I am a high school English teacher at Abington Heights High School in Clarks Summit, Pennsylvania. In March 2021, I had a brutally honest conversation with my superintendent about our English language arts curriculum. “We have no written curriculum,” I complained, explaining that our department only had anthologies that were board-approved over 25 years ago. None of us knew what the other grades were doing.
We are a high-achieving district, so no one had prioritized curriculum in a long time. During years of cost-saving cuts, any curriculum-related administrative positions had disappeared. We had been riding on fumes, and our laurels, for too long.
The situation was becoming untenable, despite our high scores on state tests. Books were repeated over grades, knowledge gaps had opened, and standards were never discussed. Each year, more students needed additional academic support beyond regular classroom instruction. In addition, other issues around curriculum had begun to arise; increasingly, teachers had to defend their book choices to parents. Someone in our community had even started a social media page dedicated to critiquing our curricular choices, singling out teachers by name.
We needed order, transparency, and support.
Analyzing the Curriculum
My superintendent agreed to let me have a shot at revamping our ELA curriculum. In addition to being a veteran teacher, I have a doctorate degree in curriculum and was eager to put into practice what I had learned. I spent the 2021-22 school year as a Teacher on Special Assignment and stepped out of the classroom to record and analyze our high school English curriculum at all grades and levels.
Here are the steps I took.
Step 1: Teacher Survey and Mission Statement
My first action was to survey our department of 12 to gather everyone’s perceptions about the curriculum. The survey confirmed that teachers did not fully know what other classes were teaching, what standards were covered and when, and how reading and writing skills progressed through the grades. Teachers did talk to each other informally and had some general ideas about each other’s classes, but the most cited indicator of knowing other teachers’ classes? Having one’s own child go through the school! Obviously, this was no way for a department to run.
On the survey, I included other concerns that I wanted the department to address. Did we have diverse representation of authors across the grades? Did we focus on global skills such as intercultural competence, authentic speaking and writing, and self-awareness? Were we trying to go beyond our classroom walls into the community? Did students meaningfully engage in online platforms, and were we sufficiently teaching them media literacy? According to the survey results, most teachers did not know, or felt we were not doing enough as a department in these areas. In addition to all these gaps, the survey revealed that no one knew if we had a department mission statement or if we did, where it would be. I shared the results of the survey with everyone, and we all agreed the work needed to be done.
In our next department meeting, I had everyone write on an index card the top three goals of each of their classes. I used this information to craft a new mission statement for the department. I then developed a flow chart to map out my thinking. This chart (see the PDF) helped everyone visualize the purpose of the project and how it would unfold.
Step 2: Recording the Operational Curriculum
The next step was the heaviest lift—having the teachers record their operational curricula. No written curriculum existed—to be fair, one teacher did produce a dusty binder from 1998, but it bore little resemblance to what was happening in our classrooms in 2022—so we had to begin with what was actually being taught. Turns out our classes had retained their original shapes from the 1980s and 90s—a survey of American and British literature in 9th grade, world literature in 10th, American literature in 11th, and British literature in 12th—but teachers had developed the text selections, pacing, and activities all their own. When one teacher left, an anthology and a smattering of materials was passed to the next. It was a decades-long “whisper down the lane” situation. And we all know how that game ends.
I reread Heidi Hayes Jacobs’ work on curriculum mapping (2009) and created a curriculum template that fit the needs of my district. To give teachers time to write everything out, I substituted for them, scheduling half days with teachers, as many as they needed. I asked them to record their essential questions, texts, activities, and assessments, mapped out in monthly increments. The standards I would do myself. Many teachers found the exercise clarifying and helpful, but it was also time-consuming. However, we remained focused on the outcome, and by December, I had curriculum charts for all classes.
Step 3: Analyzing for Standards
Next, I spent about two months analyzing everyone’s charts in relation to the Pennsylvania Core Standards. I wanted to do this analysis myself for two reasons. First and foremost, I wanted to remove that burden from teachers. Second, I wanted a consistency of thought and an even application of the criteria; as the sole analyst, I could immerse myself in the meaning of each standard and look for trends both in our strengths and our weaknesses as a department.
As I worked, I wrote notes for each teacher. I let them know if a certain standard seemed to be missing or only partially apparent. During our spring PD day, I gave everyone time to work alone and in collaboration to address these gaps. The discussions were collaborative, informative, and fruitful.
Even though we are a high-achieving district, there were some real-world skills missing from our collective repertoire. The biggest one was around public speaking. We had whole-class and small-group discussions in our classes, but speaking assignments that were intentional, persuasive, or researched were sparse. While I balk at the thought of the traditional individual presentation, where one student at a time painfully and dryly presents some information and the rest of the class watches, I knew we needed some new ideas about how students could more effectively engage in speaking activities. My colleagues helped me adapt some activities, such as Socratic Seminars and Fishbowls, for my own class.
Another gap involved incorporating technology in meaningful, authentic ways, including publishing student work. The younger teachers in our department shone in this area. They talked about using apps like Blooket and how they built Google Sites to showcase student work. We talked about having students publish book reviews on Goodreads and how students might create podcasts. We also discussed what we were currently doing to help students become more media-literate, and we traded ideas about how to most effectively improve these efforts.
Even though we are a high-achieving district, there were some real-world skills missing from our collective repertoire.
We had several discussions like these as a department, scaffolded around the investigation of meaningfully incorporating the standards. At times, these discussions became heated, even tense. Teachers felt like they were being asked to make changes without being given the time to do so. I could not dispute that. But I also knew that we were all dedicated professionals who were devoted to our craft. Whether we arrived at immediate solutions for everyone or not, we progressed toward our goals of understanding each other’s classes and leveling up as a department.
Step 4: Analyzing for Representation
Using the written curriculum charts that teachers gave me, I produced spreadsheets on author representation, around both ethnicity and gender. I used color coding to indicate what percentage of our core, full-length texts were by white authors (90 percent), male authors (73 percent) and straight authors (98 percent). Our teachers found this analysis eye-opening. While we had more representation in our shorter texts—poems, short stories, articles, and excerpts—the heart of our curriculum was lacking diversity. Incorporating more diverse texts and exploring culturally relevant teaching became a priority goal for the future.
In the months after these discussions took place, several teachers added texts to increase representation, such as Nella Larsen’s Passing as a counterpoint to F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, and Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart as a counterpoint to Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness. In addition, one of the core novels in our ninth-grade curriculum, Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird, was replaced with Colson Whitehead’s Nickel Boys after an extensive search process that included administrators, teachers, and students.
Not all teachers participated in major swaps or additions, but no one strongly objected to the changes. We debated the merits as well as the costs of keeping the “classics”; we debated the merits and costs of replacing them. Although we had different opinions, no teacher was given a directive to change, and this reduced the potential for pushback.
Step 5: Curricular Revisions
For the final two months of the school year, teachers worked on adding activities and assessments for missing standards, clarifying activities for partially represented standards, and improving activities to include more speaking and technological engagement. A few teachers added new assignments with an eye to social and cultural skills. Others added or changed texts to increase author diversity, as described above. Some changes were big, and most were smaller, but all of them were in the right direction.
Seeking Approval
Once our work mapping the new curriculum was done, our superintendent created a Curriculum Committee comprised of himself, the assistant superintendent, one of our elementary school principals who had worked on the K-8 ELA curriculum for our district, three school board members, and me. The goal of the meeting was to present the curriculum to the committee, answer any questions, and if everyone was amenable, get committee approval. From there, we would seek full board approval the following week.
The committee was delighted with the results of the project. However, the board members subsequently had some questions, not about pedagogy, but about book choices. For example, inquiries arose about the age-appropriateness of some of texts selected, including a few we had taught for years. As a teacher, and as the coordinator of the project, I found this a bit frustrating: The operational curriculum that the department had worked for the past eight months was the result of years—in some cases, decades—of teaching, refining, trial-and-error, studying, attending conferences, reading and thinking. I thought to myself, We know what we’re doing! How dare we be questioned! But I quickly realized that this reactiveness was something I needed to work on. I knew the board members wanted to support us, and that they were proud of our district and our work. And the times we live in will no longer sustain teachers existing in a silo, relying on our individual professional judgment. We are all in this together. I answered every question and offered to further discuss any and every concern, and in the end, they approved the document as it had been presented to them.
One week later, our full board approved it as well. As a teacher, I cannot express what this meant to me. Every day in the news, we see book banning, teacher bashing, and attacks on public schooling. To know that my community supports the work of our department is an incredible morale boost as well as a relief. Teachers believe in our work—it is our life’s work, our purpose, our contribution to this world—and now we know that our community stands by us.
A Fresh Start
Now I am back in my own classroom, teaching six periods of world literature to sophomores each day. But I am not the same teacher as when I left. I now fully know what my colleagues teach, what they emphasize, and how my class fits with theirs. I know how our classes and departmental mission shape our students. And what I don’t know, I can look up.
I answered every question and offered to further discuss any and every concern, and in the end, they approved the document as it had been presented to them.
I will continue this work as our department chair. I will search out books that can guide us as we strive to become more proficient in teaching speaking activities, media literacy instruction, cultural competence, and global skills. I will support teachers as they rewrite parts of their classes to include more diverse texts. I will seek out speakers and other supports to help us grow as professionals.
Meanwhile, my district liked our work so much, they decided to replicate it: This year, a math teacher has taken a sabbatical from the classroom to do the same work. Of course, the work will look different than the English department’s, and their department will have different issues that need to be addressed. But with teachers, administrators, and board members working together, it will progress. And ultimately, it is the students who benefit.
One element that I emphasized all year to my administrators, and then to the Curriculum Committee, is that the work will never be complete. Curriculum is a living event, one that breathes, grows, outgrows, and constantly changes. Teachers must have an opportunity to revise and improve it every year. Give us opportunities for meaningful leadership and a voice at the table. And yes, this will necessitate more committee meetings, discussions, debates, and renewed approvals. This is how it should be.
