Today, I pick up the conversation with Sandra, the Algebra 1 team leader, where we left off last time. She comes to see me about a week later, having thought more about her aborted attempt to introduce a new method of factoring into the Algebra 1 team’s teaching.

Sandra begins, “I thought a lot about your comment that my solution was searching for a problem and that my approach was putting the problem all on the shoulders of the students. It seems to me that our teachers are not fully taking responsibility for the factoring problem because they are not yet thinking about what they should do differently. If my idea didn’t happen to grab them, for some unknown reason, then they would forget about it as soon as they left the meeting. So, what do I do?”

The truth is, I don’t know how to solve the factoring problem. I probably can’t factor a polynomial myself. But my job is not to give Sandra the answer, even though that is the role into which most of us cast leaders. “You’re in charge, you fix it.” I can’t accept that role even if I were tempted to do so. I simply don’t know enough about high school math curriculum and instruction. Instead of taking on the responsibility of giving teachers “best practices,” I am better off remembering my aspiration to lead learning for lasting results. I need to think through how to help Sandra move from problem articulation though action planning, assisting her along the way.

“Sandra,” I ask, “do the Algebra 1 teachers think that factoring polynomials is a problem?” “There you go again,” she replies. “The problem is so obvious. We’ve got large proportions of students earning D’s and F’s and we complain in nearly every meeting that the students don’t know how to factor.” “Ok, let me put this differently,” I say. “Do the teachers on your team* own* the problem? Do they think they have a role in creating it?” “Oh, no way!” Sandra bursts out. “They think it goes back to middle school and the kids not learning basic operations, math concepts, and on and on. They can fill an entire 45-minute meeting pointing out what our students didn’t learn in middle school. In the last few minutes they will all agree that the Algebra 1 curriculum is a mile wide and an inch deep, so they need to rush on and can’t deal with students’ learning gaps along the way.”

The puzzle for Sandra is to get her teachers to stop blaming circumstances outside of themselves and their classrooms for the factoring problem. The student context is real and must be considered, but progress will not be made until teachers look at what they *do* influence. Preaching won’t work. The teachers will not listen or, worse, they will stop attending team meetings. Here is where data become important. Osterman & Kottkamp (2004) write persuasively about how to use data to unpack teaching problems that no one wants to own. The collaborative processes involved make the work a little more complex than it may seem on the surface, but for now it is important to give Sandra an anchor for working with her teachers.

“I would like to suggest,” I say, “that you mine the data on factoring that you have from the past couple of years of Algebra 1 common assessments. If you find little or no growth in students’ ability to factor *after* they come to our high school, then it seems to me that puts your team on the road toward understanding the teaching problem.”

Sandra sits in silence for several moments, then replies soberly, “I think we have the information sitting around, but getting access to it and organizing it is a big job. I don’t know where I’ll find the time. I’m not the department chair so I don’t even have a released period.”

Now we come to a point of reckoning for me as principal. I’m brought face-to-face with the fact that I may be asking teachers to do something—analyze common assessment data for a specific learning problem—without having built the organizational and personal capacity for them to do so. I have a responsibility either to wrest some additional full-time equivalent (FTE) for my teacher corps from the central office or find it within my existing staffing formula to provide on-site data assistance if I want busy teachers to do this work. In the meantime, I’ll need to patch something together to help Sandra.

“Sandra, I understand your time dilemma and I want to help. If you trust the mathematics curriculum specialist from the central office, I’m going to ask the assistant superintendent for instruction to give us some of her time to help you mine the data. She knows how to use the district’s data warehouse and I think she could save you a lot of time. I don’t want her to give you answers. I just want her to give you data you and your team members can analyze, possibly with some additional help from the specialist.”

“That would be great,” Sandra replies, “but I see this taking a long time. Everyone has a busy schedule and meanwhile large numbers of kids continue to fail in this all-important gateway course.” “I understand the urgency, but it will take time to bring your teachers around to understanding the problem anyway and we know we won’t do any *worse* in the meantime. Let me rough out a timeline for working on this problem and you let me know if it makes sense. It’s now just past the middle of February. I think if we can get the specialist working with you in the next week or so, there is enough meeting time for you and your team to gain a deeper understanding of the problem and maybe some of the root causes by the end of the school year. I will pledge workshop money to you and your team to spend a couple of intensive weeks during the summer to create a strategy for strengthening teaching and learning of factoring by the beginning of the next school year. How does that sound to you?”

Sandra smiles. “You’re ever the optimist, David. I’m willing to give it a try. I think that one or two of my teachers will work with me on understanding the problem and we might pull in one or two more with the incentive of workshop pay. If you get me some help, I’ll take another run at this. I really think we can do better.”

As Sandra leaves, I pick up the phone to call the assistant superintendent for instruction. Fingers crossed, I’m hoping I can deliver.

References

Osterman, K., & Kottkamp, R. (2004). *Reflective practice for educators: Professional development to improve student learning* (2^{nd} ed.)*.* Thousand Oaks, CA: Corwin Press.