Consider how it would feel to be a participant in either of the following two scenarios.

Scenario 1: A group of classroom teachers has gathered for the first faculty meeting of the year. The superintendent of schools, with a pained look on his face, convenes the meeting by saying:

I'm sure you are all aware of the governor's new educational reform plan. The new state standards have purposefully been set high, and our students have a long history of scoring well below state averages on similar standardized tests. But now the stakes have been raised! Beginning this spring, each school's scores on the state proficiency test will be published over the Internet. Worse, the date for reporting on our scores has been set just two weeks before our annual levy election. According to the statute, if more than 50 percent of our kids fail to meet standards in reading, math, writing, or science, our district will be placed on probation and will become subject to state takeover. Understand, therefore, that I'm not kidding when I say that improving academic performance needs to be the number-one priority for each and every one of you!

Scenario 2: Now imagine a group of engineers at a large aerospace company who have just been called to a meeting facilitated by the corporate CEO. With a broad smile on her face, she approaches the podium saying:

Welcome to the future! As I suspect you have all read in the company newsletter, NASA has offered us the opportunity to develop a viable plan for a manned mission to Mars to be completed in the next 10 years. This mission will present us with numerous obstacles, many of which are far greater than any we have successfully faced in the past. Succeeding with this mission will require achieving breakthroughs in computer technology, in our energy systems, in our life support systems, and in the design of the spacecraft itself. To add to this challenge, NASA is unlikely to provide a budget anywhere as large as that which was available for the Apollo and space shuttle programs. I'm sure you share my view that this is a most exciting project; one that will take all the creativity and energy we can muster if we expect to prevail. So let's get at it!

Chances are the teachers leaving the faculty meeting depicted in the first scenario would be deflated and frustrated. The superintendent's message would have overwhelmed all the excitement they had felt earlier about starting the year with a new group of kids. In all likelihood, many of the teachers interpreted the speech this way:

Our boss thinks—

• It's our fault that the students haven't been doing better.
• The primary reason for the district's history of poor performance is that we haven't been working hard enough and improving academic performance hasn't been our priority.
• If this situation doesn't change, we will be subjected to public embarrassment or worse.
• We are expected to already know all that we need to know in order to improve.

The corporate CEO's message to the aerospace engineers would likely have been interpreted very differently. The engineers probably walked away from the meeting feeling personally and intellectually challenged. They probably understood the CEO as saying something like this:

• I'm asking you to accomplish something very difficult.
• The challenges ahead are far tougher than those faced by earlier generations of aerospace engineers.
• Ultimately our success will depend upon our collective problem-solving skills and creativity.

If you were among those engineers, you would likely feel inspired as well as humbled by the realization that you were standing at the very outer limits of scientific know-how. Although you might feel anxious about the challenges ahead and realize that overcoming these challenges would require great energy and creativity, you would, no doubt, be excited about the mission and eager to get going. Acknowledging the possibility of failures and setbacks along the way would neither discourage nor deter you from accepting the challenge.

It is unfortunate that the tone of those two scenarios is so different, because in many ways the challenge placed before a “rocket scientist” is quite similar to the challenge faced by today's classroom teachers. Not infrequently, when someone appears confused about a simple endeavor, someone else says sarcastically, “Hey, this isn't rocket science!” That has become a crude shorthand way of saying that the task at hand isn't all that complex. I would argue that being a classroom teacher at the start of the 21st century is every bit as complex as “rocket science.” In truth, upon close examination and relative to public school teaching, rocket science ought to be considered pretty simple stuff!

Consider that today's typical classroom is far more diverse and complex than ever before. Learning disabled students sit next to gifted students. Students with behavioral disorders and children who began life as “crack babies” join in cooperative learning groups with students whose parents don't speak a word of English. The child of an aggressive corporate CEO may be engaged in a discussion with a child of poverty. Not only do today's classrooms contain students with a wider variety of developmental experiences than ever before, but society's expectations for student performance (as evidenced by the proliferation of standards legislation) have never been higher. Add to this mixture the fact that no one appears willing to tolerate even the slightest setback or failure as educators and schools work feverishly on restructuring.

The scenario that began this chapter isn't far-fetched. Virtually every state and province in North America now expects (through regulation and legislation) their public schools to prepare students to prevail with a high-caliber curriculum. Furthermore, they are demanding more than seat time as a measure; they want the reassurance that comes from quality assessments. These expectations can be clearly seen in legislation that demands that students demonstrate mastery or proficiency on tough new standards.

No doubt about it, the standards movement presents an incredible challenge for today's educator. Assisting every public school student to achieve mastery with meaningful standards is an enormous undertaking. Anyone who doubts that assertion should consider that, throughout the world, no school system, no country, no state, no city has ever been successful in making every child an academic success. For centuries, that easily stated but hard to achieve goal has eluded the world's best educators, much as interplanetary travel has eluded “rocket scientists.”

The question that all this raises for me is, why would being asked to accomplish the “impossible” be motivating and exciting if we were “rocket scientists,” yet frustrating to us as educators? I believe the answer lies in both the way the challenge has been posed and the way that the pioneers are being asked to accomplish their missions. I'll elaborate.

The easiest part of any endeavor is the issuing of the challenge, whether it comes from the president of the United States pledging to send a man to the moon by the end of the decade or a state legislature asserting that every child will demonstrate mastery of a rigorous curriculum by the end of high school. However, as the aerospace engineer in the example above might contend, the really exciting part comes later, when they are engaged in the experimentation that will be necessary to find the answers to those questions that once seemed so impossible to answer.

The challenges immediately ahead for public school educators are no less significant than those once asked of the scientists working on the Apollo mission. As noted earlier, never in humankind's history has any school system figured out how to enable every student to meet high standards on meaningful objectives. Is that goal potentially achievable? I think it is. Yet, unless we truly believe there has been a conspiracy to deny good educational practice to the world's children, we need to acknowledge that numerous breakthroughs, no less substantial than those that were needed to get Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin to the moon, will be required on the road to universal scholastic excellence.

In Chapter 1, I stated that in many places educators are treated more like blue-collar workers than true professionals, and “reprofessionalizing teaching” was one important reason to engage in action research. This is an important issue that deserves further discussion.

Reprofessionalizing Teaching

In the scenarios that opened this chapter, the teachers and the engineers were addressed in a very different fashion. The engineers were challenged as a group of professionals, individuals assumed to have the capacity to think their way through complex undertakings. The teachers, on the other hand, were addressed as workers, individuals who needed to be admonished to buckle down and work harder.

Although there is no single simple explanation for this distinction, the structure of teachers' work and the expectations that school systems place on teachers are major contributors to this state of affairs. In Chapter 1 and elsewhere (Sagor, 1993), I've discussed the consequences of organizing teaching in a blue-collar manner rather than as a professional endeavor. Simply put, blue-collar workers are expected to faithfully implement the directives of more “capable” and more highly trained supervisors. In jobs such as repetitive assembly line work, it is assumed that workers will perform their tasks best when isolated from distractions and other workers, and furthermore, it is widely assumed that the workers won't need a great deal of training because the tasks are rather straightforward. Basically, the assumption is that blue-collar workers' contributions to the enterprise can be measured by the extent of their loyalty and the sweat of their brows. With nonprofessional work, it is assumed that the qualities of creativity, initiative, and entrepreneurship will be supplied by the “bosses,” not the workers.

Our expectations of professionals are quite different. These people are expected to have the ability to attack nonroutine problems and to do so creatively. Therefore, they are expected to collaborate with others, to employ a variety of viewpoints, and ultimately to produce the very knowledge and insight that move their profession forward. Consequently, when the outcome obtained from a hardworking professional falls short of expectations, it is most often attributed to failings inherent in the intervention or treatment attempted, not on the merit or “worthiness” of the practitioner. In contrast, when a blue-collar worker fails to meet expectations, it is more likely blamed on worker incompetence.

Is it any wonder then that professionals tend to feel challenged when given a difficult task to perform? In fact, it is easy to understand why professionals get excited about being asked to push the “edge of the envelope.” It also is easy to understand why many blue-collar workers logically conclude that their interests are best served by “dropping out” emotionally or simply employing the safest and most risk-free strategy. Workers in bureaucratic enterprises often find it more important to get the boss off their back than to produce a quality product.

The tendency to organize teaching as if it were a blue-collar enterprise helps explain why many teachers react to the standards movement and other challenges by dropping out emotionally or becoming part of the epidemic of teacher burnout. Throughout North America, teacher bashing has become a predictable political ritual. The fact that our schools aren't more effective is blamed on “lazy teachers” or their unions. Some people argue that if society were only free from these “self-serving public employees,” and we either educated our students at home or in private schools, academic achievement would immediately soar. How long does a person need to hear the blaming and name calling before frustration and giving up take over?

Occasionally the blame isn't placed upon the teachers directly. The methods and interventions used in schools also receive their share of criticism. It may be the “new” approach to the teaching of language, math, or science, or a new strategy for integrating curriculum that receives the blame. But right below the surface of that criticism is a belief that the folks to blame are those “flaky” educators who are implementing those “bad” strategies. This isn't totally illogical. Blaming teachers for the strategies they use would be fair if the teachers played a significant role in creating curriculum or designing instructional strategies. But it is rarely the teachers who write the textbooks; they aren't the ones teaching the graduate courses; they aren't the lobbyists selling the restructuring plan to the legislature. No, it isn't the teaching profession that drives educational innovation, research, and policy; but it is teachers who end up shouldering most of the blame.

Over the past decade industry has begun to learn important lessons. Deming (1986) and others in the Total Quality Management movement have helped enlightened businesses to understand that when workers face complex problems and are denied appropriate discretion on how to complete their work, it is only logical to expect them to retreat into an excuse-making mode. This explains why, in traditional organizations, frustrated workers may argue with their managers and ask questions like these: How can you expect success when we work with these inadequate tools? How can you expect us to build a quality product if you give us such miserable raw material?

Understanding the perspective of the alienated worker makes it easier to understand why classroom teachers express sentiments like these: How do they expect us to succeed with kids from this neighborhood and from these families? With class sizes this large and saddled with an outmoded curriculum, it would take a miracle for any of these kids to learn!

When we hear workers trying to escape personal responsibility by blaming conditions outside of their control, their words provide testimony to a lack of confidence that they can prevail. Psychologists refer to this as an expression of “low efficacy.” The importance of believing in one's ability to prevail even when pitted against great obstacles is a phenomenon most of us appreciate. It's the theme of a story that parents and primary school teachers are very familiar with—The Little Engine That Could. The cliché “If you think you can, you can, but if you think you can't, you can't” underscores one of the most critical issues facing today's educator—personal and collective efficacy.

Had the engineers who worked at NASA not believed that they would prevail in getting a man to the moon, they would never have accomplished all that was required to realize that goal. Likewise, the success of legislatively mandated reforms will ultimately come down to whether or not the “engineers” in charge (the teachers) are given credible reasons to believe that they can and will prevail.

As it stands now, the sad reality is that far too many teachers, faculties, and school systems lack the belief that they can make the break-throughs necessary to achieve universal and fundamental student success. Unless or until teachers sincerely believe that these accomplishments are within their power, all these glorious legislative reforms will be doomed to failure.

Action Research as a Professional Pursuit

Even those who agree with my contention about the efficacy and morale of today's educators might still ask why I feel that systematically engaging in teacher research will improve the situation. To answer this, it is worth examining again the key differences between professional and blue-collar work as discussed above:

• Professionals are expected to attack nonroutine problems and to do so creatively.
• Professionals are expected to consider a variety of perspectives when making decisions.
• Professionals play a significant role in producing the knowledge and insights that move their profession forward.
• Professionals hold themselves accountable for using best practices.

Attacking Nonroutine Problems

When “told” to implement an “adopted” strategy and do it precisely as the instructor's manual suggests, the implication is that all students and classrooms are alike, and, therefore, one approach will prove appropriate for all situations. But teachers know by experience that this simply isn't the case. Nothing in teaching is ever routine. Just because a strategy worked second period doesn't mean it will succeed with the fifth-period class. However, when teachers have conducted action research on what has worked in their classrooms with a unique mix of students, they have uncovered ways to creatively handle nonroutine problems.

Considering Multiple Perspectives

When teachers are expected to work as loners, isolated in their own classrooms, they are being told that no more than one perspective is ever needed to make sound instructional decisions on behalf of a child. However, when teachers are encouraged to share their data on student performance and the findings of their action research, and to use these findings to construct alternative approaches for working with individual children or unique classes, they will see how multiple perspectives inevitably lead to better professional decisions.

Building a Professional Knowledge Base

It is understandable why many teachers are skeptical of educational research. Too frequently, the very voice of the researcher gives rise to practitioner suspicion. Teachers are wary of findings from people who they suspect have never been in the classroom, or who have little or no experience with the types of students who are attending their school. However, when teachers recognize their own perspective in the words and findings of researchers, when educational research truly reflects an understanding of the dynamics of today's classroom, teachers will not only find discussions around data to be relevant, but they will become eager to join in the debate with their own findings and insights.

Accountability

Most school accountability systems are predicated on assessments provided by outsiders or people occupying a higher rung on the bureaucratic ladder. The state holds school districts accountable, and principals and other supervisors assess and evaluate the quality of the teaching in their school. That isn't the norm in professional practice. My lawyer doesn't provide me with good service because she is afraid of getting a poor evaluation, nor does my physician treat me well because of fear of a reprimand from the hospital administrator. When teachers have timely data on performance and feel empowered to make appropriate changes based upon those data, then they will begin to feel greater efficacy and a greater willingness to hold themselves to the highest standards of professional performance.

In short, teachers in conventional settings often have feelings of low efficacy and lack a professional self-image. However, research has shown that teachers who regularly engage in collaborative practices, such as action research, develop high efficacy, a professional ethos, and their schools are marked by stronger faculty morale—most important, their students begin to perform better than before. Figure 3.1 is a graphic representation of my theoretical perspective on how action research relates to the school improvement process.

Figure 3.1. Action Research and School Improvement

Using Data to Build Efficacy

Activating the power of reflective practice requires two things: (1) making data on performance available and (2) providing teachers the authority to use these data for the improvement of their instruction.

By now it should be clear why the superintendent's speech presented at the start of this chapter was futile. Telling hard-working educators (or students, for that matter) to simply work harder (as though that is all that is required for success) is not the answer. Schools don't need teachers to do more work; rather, schools should be encouraging teachers to do different work. School improvement and teacher efficacy are two concepts that are inextricably intertwined. Reasonable people do not change present practice unless or until they have credible data that causes them to believe improvement will result. This is an example of the behavioral phenomenon called “cognitive dissonance”; changes in behavior are unlikely to occur without changes in attitudes and beliefs.

If what schools need from teachers is not more work but better work, where should educators go to gain the insights and learn new skills? How can schools build greater institutional capacity?

Over the past half-century, most states and local districts have focused their hopes and investments on program implementation. Policy-makers apparently believe that the secret to student success is finding and adopting the “right approach.” Once the adoption is complete, all that is required is finding ways to motivate the teachers to get on with the implementation. It shouldn't surprise anyone that this approach hasn't worked any better than it has. Programs can only do so much for so many. Just as medical researchers will never find one antibiotic that will cure all infections, educators are unlikely to find a single reading program that succeeds with all learners. The search for the “teacher-proof” solution is and always will be a futile one. Therefore, if significant improvement over past waves of reform is the goal, it is time to cool our infatuation with programs and instead escalate our investments in people. This is why integrating action research into school life is so imperative.

Whatever else action research may be, it clearly is a statement of faith in the innate capacity of working educators. When schools provide support for teacher researchers by making data available and being open to the findings of classroom inquiry, they are investing in the development of their most valuable resource—their people. What teachers learn from and about their practice never fades. Each day educators can build upon the lessons learned from the day before. When teachers are encouraged to share their learning, the collective capacity of the school grows geometrically.

The two critical factors mentioned earlier—availability of data on performance and teacher authority to use the data to improve their instruction—are the prerequisites for building efficacy. As another example, individual student athletes can do extraordinary things when they have information and the power to use it. And in the Apollo mission, the team of professionals who were empowered to combine their creativity with available data and to devise the necessary technologies were able to accomplish the “impossible.” This is the power of action research. It is means to renew the efficacy that most teachers possessed when they left college, believing they could accomplish miracles.