From: atdhb@acad2.alaska.edu
Newsgroups: misc.education
Subject: Ability grouping
Date: 15 Aug 92 03:16:52 GMT
Organization: University of Alaska

This past spring the Anchorage School District was embroiled in a
number of controversies.  Lost in the headlines of deposed school
board presidents, flamboyant superintendents, lawsuits, teacher
strike negotiations and school board recall efforts has been the
erosion of the honors program at one of the high schools.  The
middle school concept has been creeping upward and has now
infected the ninth grade at Service High.

Perhaps "infected" is too harsh a term, because I approve of much
about the middle school concept.  I attended a week-long
middle-school seminar/workshop and took a three-credit graduate
level course called "Middle School--the Transcecent Years."  I
know about teaming and interdisciplinary studies and thematic
units and core groups and all that.  For the most part I think
middle school a pretty good idea. 

But middle-school student teams tend to be heterogeneous, for one
reason or another, and as a specialist in teaching gifted
students, I support homogenous ability grouping.  It's not that I
think that all kids can't learn (as has been charged), it's
simply that students learn differing amounts of material at
different rates, and have differing abilities in regards to
divergent, abstract and critical thinking.  While at least some
of these abilities are more developmental in nature than genetic,
gifted children tend to be better and faster at these mental
skills than average children (that's how they came to be labeled
as "gifted").  And even for the developmental skills (such as
abstract thinking), gifted children tend to mature earlier.  In
short, gifted learners need a special environment, the same way a
retarded or learning-disabled learner needs a special
environment.  Many states, recognizing this need, have instituted
laws requiring differentiated education for the gifted.  One of
the best ways to ensure that gifted kids (1) receive a high level
of challenge; (2) feel a sense of belonging and worth; and (3)
take part in high-level discussions where their views are
understood and taken seriously is in homogenous, gifted-only
classes under the tutelage of a facilitator trained in gifted
education.

If middle school (and its high-school incarnation) conflicts with
ability grouping, then I would have to lean toward ability
grouping unless it could be shown that all students could receive
appropriate learning opportunities in heterogeneous classes.  At
the present time, there is not enough funding to ensure this, at
least not in Anchorage.

Back to Service High:  I'd like to run down the history of the
last few months. 

The heterogeneous-grouping program was conceived by a pair of
ninth-grade English teachers at Service High School.  They stated
that their concern was that 30% of the incoming freshmen were
failing ninth-grade English, and that a new, interest-based
program would lower that failure rate.  The principal bought into
the plan as part of a new push toward site-based management.  So
far, so good.  

The plan calls for replacing traditional freshman English with
any of four special-interest courses: LA-9H (Humanities Approach;
English teacher teams with SS teacher to combine LA and World
History); LA-9D (Drama Emphasis; drama and speech);  LA-9R
(Reader Response Emphasis, using writing and group discussion
techniques [Paideia seminar] to analyze literature); and LA-9T
(Traditional approach; a balanced presentation from the
ninth-grade Scope and Sequence).   The student decides which
course interests her the most, and, if the theory is correct,
will put out much more effort in such a class than she would in a
traditional, stuffy old English class.  Still sounds kind of
exciting, innovative and progressive.

In early spring, a public meeting was called to unveil the new
plan, scheduled for implementation in the fall of '92.  Almost as
an afterthought, it was quietly mentioned that the English 9
honors classes would be eliminated, since students would be
signing up for one of the emphasis courses instead of the
traditional English 9, Honors English 9 or Remedial English 9. 
As part of the overall egalitarian thrust of the program, other
honors classes (other subjects, other grades) were targeted for
elimination as well in the years to come as the principles of the
middle-school concept swept the school.  Ultimately, the planners
see the school as becoming one big happy family, with all
students working together in a stigma-free school in which each
child could have access to choice and to the level of challenge
and participation s/he chose.  As the students' self-esteem
soared, so would grades and SAT scores.

Brings tears to your eyes, doesn't it? 

Naturally, parents of the incoming honors-level students (last
year's seventh and eighth grade gifted students) were upset, not
only about the elimination of the honors classes but about not
being told about it.

Service High School is in an affluent neighborhood and has a high
percentage of gifted and honors students.  It produces far more
than its share of National Merit Scholars.  Its parents are, for
the most part, professional people with high expectations for
their children and they are not to be trifled with.  They
mobilized to save the honors program.

As a teacher of the gifted in Hanshew Middle School, Service's
only feeder school, I was recruited for the effort.  I wrote
position and research papers and spoke to the school board about
how difficult it is to implement a challenging, meaningful
program for gifted and high-achieving kids in a heterogeneous
setting.  I told of how I had to work long hours to individualize
instruction in my homogenous classes, with students who ranged in
ability from about 125 IQ up to 166.  I expressed my doubts about
how a regular classroom teacher could effectively serve a class
of students with a range of abilities of six or seven standard
deviations when I, as a specialist, had to hump to do it for a
class with a range of two or three.  I recited the literature
that shows gifted kids do not automatically flourish in just any
educational setting simply because they're gifted; that quite the
contrary they desperately need (some experts say _must_ have) a
differentiated program in order to approach their potential.  I
pointed out that the gifted were not being served at Service
(last year, only about seven percent of Service's gifted students
were in the mentorship program, which is the sole method
specifically designed to serve the gifted in Anchorage high
schools).  I told them that the honors program, inadequate though
it may be, was their only hope to approach a level of instruction
commensurate with their abilities.  (Honors classes are
"inadequate" because gifted students need classes designed for
the gifted, not honors classes, which are primarily designed for
college-bound high-achievers.  The two groups overlap, of course,
but not completely--an estimated one-third of all gifted students
chronically underachieve and quite a few honors students are not
gifted intellectually.  But in the absence of a true gifted
program, honors classes are a distant second best.)

Meanwhile, the parents took this tack:  "All we ask," they said,
over and over, "is a choice.  Your new program sounds great, but
many of us feel we have been shut out of the process.  Please
leave us a couple of honors classes so that we may evaluate the
new program without sacrificing our children in the experiment."

The principal replied, "I will take your request under
consideration, but if the teachers feel the new program is
jeopardized by removing the most able students and putting them
in honors classes, then I will not let that happen."  In other
words, no sale, for the teachers who had instigated the
program--one of them the ninth-grade honors teacher--had already
stated that they must have the bright kids in the heterogeneous
classes in order for the program to work.  

"But how will our children be served and challenged in this new
environment?" the parents wanted to know.

"Because of the new structure," said one of the teachers, "we
will be able to raise the standards for all our students."

"Raise the standards?" asked the parents.  "Wasn't the primary
reason you started all this in the first place to lower the
failure rate?  How does raising the standards lower the failure
rate?"

"Students will rise to the level of expectation," the teachers
said.

"Then why don't you just raise the standards and expectations in
the regular classes, and leave things alone?"

"Look, this new program will work.  Please give it a chance."

"That's fine for you to say, but we feel you're experimenting on
our children with an unproved method.  Some of our kids have
aspirations for colleges that are highly competitive.  How can
they get in without honors courses on their transcripts?"

"Well, we have a portfolio option.  Any child who wants to can
create a portfolio, and at the end of the year he submits this to
a team of teachers.  If the portfolio warrants it, the child will
be given an 'H' for honors after the course name on his
transcript."

"You're kidding.  You should know that 'more work' is not the way
to individualize for high-ability students."

"It's not merely 'more work.'  We'll grade those portfolios
according to rigorous standards.  It will have to be high-quality
work to earn the 'H'."

"All we ask is a choice for our children..."

"Trust us.  This way is better.  You'll see."


So the new program will begin in a few weeks.  Someone has
charged that the reason for the whole thing is that one of the
instigating teachers--the one who taught honors English--was
simply sick and tired of teaching the same way after 15 years and
wanted a change.

My concern is not with the idea of the program itself--I think
teaming and interdisciplinary and thematic units are
terrific--I'm worried about my kids--my gifted students who will
soon be going into those heterogeneous classes.  I'm worried
about Aaron, an extremely high-IQ kid with interests in science
and science-fiction and who voices such really weird, strange
ideas that the regular students will tease him unmercifully and
the teacher will think he's a trouble-maker and a kook; and I'm
worried about Kelly, who is quiet and keeps to herself but whose
mind runs 900 miles per hour, and who must be constantly observed
and coaxed to bring out her blazing intellect at just the right
moment--how can a teacher do that if s/he has to stop every seven
seconds to restore order or explain a concept for the umpteenth
time?  Kelly's mind will wander; she'll lose her insight (or
maybe she won't--but the rest of the class will, and that's just
as tragic).  I'm worried about Helen, who talks all the time and
will quickly make an enemy of any teacher who hasn't been trained
in dealing with highly-verbal gifted kids.  I'm worried about
Amanda, easily the most gifted writer I've ever seen in middle
school but who is on the verge of dropping into the world of
drugs and sex and black leather and Marlboros and Miller Lite. 
Will the next teacher see her as a gifted writer or a slut?  I'm
worried about Dan, a highly-metacognitive future lawyer whom the
teacher will think is manipulative when all he's doing is trying
out his new powers of abstract thinking.  I'm worried about Tim
and Brad and Jessica and Lizzie, all of whom speak their minds
readily when they know their divergent ideas will be thoughtfully
considered and respectfully challenged and fairly supported; what
will happen when they get groans and laughter and snide remarks
from those who can't understand?  Will they fall silent?  Will
they chain their minds in order to fit in with the multitude?

But mostly I'm worried about Erin, and those like her, who will
sit in boredom and sigh and stare at the wall and draw flowers in
the margins of her notebook and wither.  In a room of her
intellectual peers, with a teacher trained in the ways of gifted
learners, this isn't likely to happen.  How can Erin be
challenged and nurtured in Service High?


Don
ATDHB@acad2.alaska.edu
Newsgroups: misc.education