In 2002, about the time that No Child Left Behind (NCLB) became law, New York City elected a new mayor, a self-made man who deeply believed in the transformative power of free markets to remake lives. During the next 36 months, with the help of a schools chancellor selected from outside the ranks of the education establishment, Mayor Michael Bloomberg put into motion a wholly remarkable—and to its critics, deeply troubling—remaking of the largest school system in the United States. At its center was a centralized, business-like bureaucracy and controversial, uniform curriculum designed not merely to challenge the status quo, but to end it.
A special bill approved in 2002 by the New York State Legislature made the mayor solely accountable for school performance to the New York State Department of Education (National School Boards Association, 2002). He was free to do whatever he saw fit to turn around what was widely viewed as a dated and broken system plagued by a gamut of problems that ranged from low test scores to patronage-riddled schools and districts. Ending his tenure as the founder and head of media giant Bloomberg LLC, Bloomberg became, in effect, the CEO of a new corporation of 1.1 million children, 134,000 employees, and 1,400 schools (City of New York, 2004, 2005; Pasanen, 2004).
Selected results from standardized tests administered in spring 2005 seem to indicate that the mayor's business-inspired model of school reform has been successful. State reading measures demonstrated a 9.9 percent increase for New York City 4th graders, the greatest gain since the test was initiated in 1999 (Herszenhorn, 2005a). City reading scores for 3rd, 5th, 6th, and 7th graders demonstrated even larger gains (New York City Department of Education, 2006). Fourth grade math scores for 2005 likewise rose an impressive 9.3 percent (Herszenhorn, 2005b).
These apparent gains, however, tell only part of the story. Spring 2005 scores for 8th graders in reading, math, and social studies fell to historic lows, and high school graduation rates, already depressed, remained stagnant. Moreover, it is unclear whether the gains were the result of Bloomberg's reforms or the result of pedagogically sound policies put in place over the last several years by the two previous school chancellors. Critics have also noted that across the entire state of New York, 4th grade standardized test scores in both reading and math inexplicably soared in the spring 2005 assessments (Herszenhorn, 2005a, 2005b).
Many of the mayor's critics have taken him to task on purely curricular grounds—for prescribing systemwide use of a progressive whole language curriculum (Balanced Literacy) and a matching constructivist math program, and for including hours of test preparation in the curriculum each week. The Bloomberg reformers' standardized mandate dictates almost everything classroom teachers now do—from where they stand in the classroom to how they seat students to how they teach (using textbooks or chalkboards is no longer allowed). School principals enforce these new policies, which apply to all but 250 exempted schools in the system.
Not surprisingly, the reorganization has produced strained relations throughout the chain of command as workers at all levels are forced to implement an education program whose validity many question. More than 9,000 teachers filed grievances in the first year of the reorganization (Dunkel, 2003). In June 2005, 60,000 of the system's 80,000 teachers, responding to a union poll, gave the Bloomberg reformers an F for failing to respect the judgment and professionalism of the school workforce (City Council Education Committee, 2005).
As a New York City Department of Education district administrator from 2003 to 2005, I witnessed firsthand the results of applying business-style management borrowed from the private sector to schools, teachers, and students. Such an implementation leads to the question of whether an education reform steeped in unquestioned centralized sovereignty can prosper and thrive in any school culture deeply rooted in the ideals of social service, community building, and responsiveness to the individual.
Them Versus Us
When a system is ineffective in the business world, you attempt to replace it with one that works. Bloomberg did just that. Choosing former Justice Department antitrust lawyer Joel Klein as the new schools chancellor, the Bloomberg team set about buying advice on what a totally new approach to education should look like. All key players in the reorganization planning came from outside the New York City school system; it was clear from the start that the new organizational structure would consist of policy shapers and policy followers—them versus us.
They—the policy shapers—were nonunion, highly paid, and often short on education credentials. Although they set policy, they refused to engage in any discussion of what the problems with that policy might be. Their vision was global and sweeping, envisioning that all problems could be remedied through strict, uniform adherence to policies designed by experts. They were all about the Big Picture, eschewing the daily details.
We, the policy followers, worked in district offices or as school principals or teachers. We dealt in education quagmires, such as how to meet accountability goals with students whose parents chronically pulled them out of school. Now, inexplicably, we were part of the problem.
Losing Job Ownership
Rather than measuring their professional success against such business indicators as quarterly gains or cost containment, educators tend to obtain work satisfaction from the impact that they have on their immediate work environment (Litt & Turk, 1985; Sergiovanni, 1967). Teachers and administrators thrive in environments that value staff members' input in problem solving, that enable them to work with students as they see fit, and that promote a sense of kinship in the school community. In short, teachers and principals enjoy the autonomy of their work, as well as the community recognition that comes from doing a good job (Dinham & Scott, 1998; Scott, Dinham, & Brooks, 1999).
I collectively identify these intrinsically motivating factors that educators value as indicators of job ownership. These are central to why good teachers flourish and why dedicated school principals rarely miss a day of work. When Bloomberg usurped many of these job ownership factors from the New York City Public Schools' workforce, he inadvertently caused an enormous morale implosion, which he has yet to address or correct.
Status Quote
Status Quote - Transforming New York City's Public Schools
There are two kinds of fools: One says, “This is old, therefore it is good”; the other says, “This is new, therefore it is better.”
—William Ralph Inge
Stranded
In the spring and summer of 2003, Bloomberg dissolved the school system's entire central administrative staff, located in downtown Brooklyn, as well as 32 community district offices, eliminating approximately 3,000 jobs in all (Klein, 2003; McFadyen, 2003a, 2003b). Almost everyone whom principals had relied on for routine or organizational advice—friends, mentors, supervisors, and secretaries—no longer had jobs, severely limiting the principals' ability to safely and effectively manage their schools. As a result, by September 2004, approximately one-quarter of the system's existing principals had retired, quit, or reverted back to assistant principal positions.
We who remained in the district offices were uncertain of what our jobs entailed, given the wholesale firing of our far more experienced predecessors just weeks before. We were fearful to take almost any stand without authorization from the central staff, which not only was located miles away but also had a mind-set light-years from our own. The new central administrative staff rarely returned our phone calls or e-mails, leaving us stranded in matters as important as how to manage the suspension of a dangerous student or as routine as how to order supplies.
By the start of the 2004 school year, the new district offices had begun to function in much the same way as the old, but far less efficiently. Gone were dozens of workplace fundamentals, such as resource libraries and resource centers, sufficient office equipment, and a well-functioning interoffice mail system. Further, in their rush to consolidate and centralize, the reformers had eliminated the school-based position of special education supervisor. In the process of sending the terminated administrators' files to new headquarters, hundreds of student records across the city were misplaced or mistakenly tossed out (City Council Education Committee, 2005; Condon, 2004; Winerip, 2004).
The steady exit of principals and district-level supervisors continued unabated during the next two years. The central office, which called the tidal wave of departures “retirements,” believed it was ridding the system of “dead wood.” But what I witnessed was an angry exodus of some of the system's best and most experienced school leaders and a loss of vital institutional knowledge.
The Instant Principal
The Bloomberg reformers had devised their own corporate-style training program to replace departing principals. In 2003, they launched the $75 million Leadership Academy to develop new principal talent and to reform licensure requirements. Private business supporters, notably California billionaire/education reformer Eli Broad, funded the program. The academy's purpose was to train new principals, bypassing the time-honored, up-through-the-ranks career ladder of the old system. Whereas previously a principal may have followed a lengthy service and time investment reminiscent of trade guilds, the new system would speed matters up.
With just 15 months of training, someone with as little as three years of experience in the schools could be a principal in a New York City public school. The Leadership Academy drew on the knowledge base of former top business executives, such as General Electric's Jack Welch and Covad Communications' Robert E. Knowling, to train aspiring candidates in team building, management, and leadership. Candidates received a principal's salary of $92,000 annually. In addition, aspiring leaders learned how to implement the Bloomberg pedagogies of choice—Balanced Literacy and constructivist math—and how to conduct walk-throughs to monitor for classroom compliance. Principals gained management experience through case studies, role playing, and shadowing a master principal through part of the year's training.
A recently published review of the success of the Leadership Academy (Gootman, 2005) shows that in the two years of its operations, only 113 of the 180 candidates currently work as New York City principals. And what has largely been lost in the discussion is the effect that inexperienced school leaders can have on school and community morale.
For example, in 2004, the long-time principal of a Title I school resigned. The assistant principal, who had worked at the principal's side for several years, was widely expected to succeed him. The assistant principal had more than 20 years of school experience and was well regarded by parents and staff. Further, he was respected throughout the district as a strong school leader. Over the years, he had been responsible for envisioning and implementing many of the innovative ideas and programs that had enhanced the school's reputation.
The Local Instructional Superintendent—under the reform, a kind of super-principal in charge of monitoring up to 10 schools—was in charge of installing the interim acting principal. He found himself under unexpected pressure from the chancellor's office to place a candidate from the Leadership Academy in the position rather than the assistant principal. A young and inexperienced Academy principal subsequently assumed the position, despite the angry reactions of parents and staff. During the following year, many in the school found it difficult to take direction from someone who had far less school experience than they had. Many staff members, the assistant principal included, decided to look for work elsewhere.
Of course, many principals under the old system were unfit to lead, and many teachers were unfit to teach. A strong candidate, such as the aforementioned assistant principal, could just as easily have been pushed aside under the old system by a patronage hire. Yet many had hoped that the Bloomberg reform would improve school leadership, not merely replace one problem-riddled system with another. What had begun as a bold challenge to the status quo was increasingly looking like a familiar copy dressed up in new clothes.
The Cost of Reform
Bloomberg applied the most extreme measures in disbanding an operable system that required thoughtful reform, not dissolution. His actions may have brought him the immediate results he sought—namely, strict compliance and silence from those working in his schools and districts. But these came at a heavy price. An education system built on fear, distrust, and lack of job ownership is an unlikely candidate for success.
Whatever the original intent, it seems clear that the plan to challenge New York City's education status quo has resulted in a human resources quandary. Bloomberg may have found that in education, it is easier to change practices than to change minds.
