Recently I received a memo to remind me of John Hattie’s research
on collective teacher efficacy, the number one influence, according to his
mega-analysis, on student achievement:
Collective teacher efficacy (d = 1.57). This is a factor that
can be manipulated at a whole school level. It involves helping all teachers on
the staff to understand that the way they go about their work has a significant
impact on student results – for better or worse. Simultaneously, it involves
stopping them from using other factors (e.g. home life, socio-economic status,
motivation) as an excuse for poor progress. Yes, these factors hinder learning,
but a great teacher will always try to make a difference
despite this, and they often succeed.
There are so many questions no one seems to ask. First,
how do we know this is true? So often we are handed this nugget of information
as though it were fact. Hattie’s famous
list of influences is a meta-analysis of 800 meta-analyses of more than
50,000 quantitative studies of variables affecting the achievement of students. But what does that mean? Despite the large numbers, it means that
Hattie selected only those studies that focused on factors that he argues can
be influenced in schools, so topics like class, poverty, health in families,
and nutrition are excluded. Thus, although he says teachers should not use
those factors as an “excuse,” he does not calculate their impact on learning. He
includes only quantitative studies, that is, studies that measure what can be
measured, test results, for example. Anything that documents the experiences of children and teachers, their
joy, their anguish, their hopes and fears is excluded. He includes or excludes
further studies based on his beliefs about the quality and motives of the
research. These 50,000 chosen studies, then, conducted in the past, are stirred
in the pot of statistical analysis, place, gender, culture, age, ability all
blended, amalgamated, averaged and then summarized to give us the list of
influences.
I keep wondering why we accept this list as though numbers so
derived matter more than common sense. Children who are hungry, who don’t know
where they are going to sleep at night, whose parents are suffering in the grip
of generational poverty and trauma are not going to magically “improve” when we
use concept mapping (effect size 0.64) in our classrooms. Although schools
can’t “influence” poverty, our time and resources are used to heal, at least in
small ways, the effects: we have food programs, extra clothing, washing
machines and showers, counseling for children who are angry, hurt, grieving; we
send home grocery cards, Christmas hampers, used laptops; we have after-school
programs, organize funding for running shoes, and to pay costs so all the
children can attend field trips or get extra music lessons. When we shush a
child who is talking during the announcements, and he tells us to fuck off,
pushes over his chair, and storms out of the room, we understand that it’s very
possible he didn’t sleep last night, because he shares his room with two
brothers and his aunt’s baby who often cries most of the night; we know he came
late to school and so missed the breakfast program and likely hasn’t eaten
since we fed him lunch yesterday; we understand that anger is a response to
frustration, hurt, pain. We feed him; we love him. But it doesn’t help us teach
him math. This is not an excuse. A teacher cannot be responsible for the
success of a child. Even a great teacher.
But then, what is a greatness in a teacher? With the
Olympics on right now, we know what great athletes are. Still, even a great
snowboarder like Mark McMorris is excused when gusts of wind shift his balance.
Even a great skater like Nathan Chen is excused when the complex, impossible to
measure factors of heart, nerve and confidence destroy his poise.
Most of us are just ordinary. Still, I’ve never met a
teacher who didn’t try. I see
day-to-day miracles from ordinary teachers who try, try, try every day, without
fan support, without a coach helping from the sidelines, without the resources
they need, despite ludicrous lists that tell them to simply try harder, despite gusting winds and
broken hearts.
I wonder why we continue to listen to the statistical
machinations of an Australian academic rather than the teachers in our own community
who say, please help.
