BEHAVIORAL SUPPORT PLANS

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Behavioral Support Plans

[WLOs: 1, 2, 3] [CLOs: 1, 2, 3, 4]

Prior to beginning work on this assignment, review section 10.1 in your textbook and read Behavioral Support Plan Tools & Tips (Links to an external site.).

Behavioral support plans are a great way to build a plan that helps shape, replace, or reduce challenging behavior. These plans often rely on use of behavioral data to identify key trigger behavior information. Additionally, these plans may include things such as ways to deepen relationships, ways to improve parent communication, ideas to impact environmental changes, and strategies to improving the behavior. These plans also identify goals and members of the behavioral support team.

For your Final Paper, you will create a behavioral support plan utilizing behaviors found in Jose and Olivia. Pick either Jose or Olivia and review their behaviors. Select three challenging behaviors from your chosen student to complete the behavioral support plan. Your behavioral support plan will include things such as trigger, problem behavior, consequence, function, desired behavior, maintaining consequences, preventions, teaching, goals, data collection, and parent involvement.

Utilize the ECE 201 Week 5 Final Project template to complete the behavioral support plan. After you have completed the document, be sure to write a reflection on the process and answer the following prompts:

  • Explain the purpose of behavior management in early childhood educational settings and why it is important to think proactively.
  • Explain how you think your student will react to this behavior plan.
  • Describe what else you would do to encourage positive behavior that does not “fit” on the plan.
  • Summarize the conversation you will have with next year’s teacher in regard to your student’s behavior plan.

The Behavioral Support Plan Final Paper

  • Must be eight to 12 double-spaced page in length (not including title and references pages) and formatted according to APA style as outlined in the Ashford Writing Center’s APA Style (Links to an external site.)
  • Must include a separate title page with the following:
    • Title of paper
    • Student’s name
    • Course name and number
    • Instructor’s name
    • Date submitted

For further assistance with the formatting and the title page, refer to APA Formatting for Word 2013 (Links to an external site.).

  • Must utilize academic voice. See the Academic Voice (Links to an external site.) resource for additional guidance.
  • Must include an introduction and conclusion paragraph. Your introduction paragraph needs to end with a clear thesis statement that indicates the purpose of your paper.
    • For assistance on writing Introductions & Conclusions (Links to an external site.) as well as Writing a Thesis Statement (Links to an external site.), refer to the Ashford Writing Center resources.
  • Must use at least two scholarly sources in addition to the course text.
    • The Scholarly, Peer-Reviewed, and Other Credible Sources (Links to an external site.) table offers additional guidance on appropriate source types. If you have questions about whether a specific source is appropriate for this assignment, please contact your instructor. Your instructor has the final say about the appropriateness of a specific source for a particular assignment.
  • Must document any information used from sources in APA style as outlined in the Ashford Writing Center’s Citing Within Your Paper (Links to an external site.)
  • Must include a separate references page that is formatted according to APA style as outlined in the Ashford Writing Center. See the Formatting Your References List (Links to an external site.) resource in the Ashford Writing Center for specifications.

 

Required Resource

Text

Kaiser, B., & Sklar Rasminsky, J. (2017). Challenging behavior in young children: Understanding, preventing, and responding effectively (4th ed.). Retrieved from https://content.ashford.edu

  • Chapter 12: Working With Families and Other Experts

Article

Linsin, M. (2011, June 4). How to talk to parents about their misbehaving child (Links to an external site.). Retrieved from https://www.smartclassroommanagement.com/2011/06/04/how-to-talk-to-parents-about-their-misbehaving-child/

  • This article discusses ways to communicate with parents about their misbehaving children and will assist you in your Teacher’s Role discussion forum this week.
    Accessibility Statement does not exist
    Privacy Policy (Links to an external site.)

Web Page

Behavioral support plan tools & tips (Links to an external site.). (n.d.). Retrieved from http://www.communitycareinc.org/for-providers/behavioral-support-plan-tools-tips

  • This web page provides information about behavioral support plans and will assist you in your Behavioral Support Plans Final Paper this week.
    Accessibility Statement does not exist
    Privacy Policy (Links to an external site.)Running head: BEHAVIORAL SUPPORT PLANS 1

     

    ASSESSMENT CASE STUDY

    Week 5: Behavioral Support Plans

    Your Name

    ECE201: Introduction to Early Childhood Behavior Management

    Instructor’s Name

    Date

     

    Hint: Delete all of these green boxes before submitting the paper to your instructor.

    To delete the boxes: click on the edge of each box and press delete.

     

    Behavioral Support Plan:

    Name of Child:

     

    Date of Plan Creation:

     

    Length of Plan:

     

    Challenging Behavior #1:
    Behavior:

     

    (One sentence)

     
    Trigger:

     

    (One sentence)

     
    Consequence:

     

    (One sentence)

     
    Function:

     

    (One sentence)

     
    Desired behavior:

     

    (One sentence)

     
    Maintaining consequence:

     

    (One sentence)

     
    Reward? (Y/N and describe)

     

    (One sentence)

     
    Reminder or private signal:

     

    (One sentence)

     
    Short-term goal:

    (One sentence and be specific)

     
    Long-term goal:

     

    (One sentence and be specific)

     
    Data to be collected to support the plan (Method #1):

     

    (One sentence and be specific)

     
    Data to be collected to support the plan (Method #2)

     

    (One sentence and be specific)

     
    Teaching: Ways to make problem behavior inefficient (teach new skills)

    (One paragraph)

     

     

     

     

     

    Preventions: Ways to make problem behavior irrelevant (environmental redesign)

    (One paragraph)

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Challenging Behavior #2:
    Behavior:

     

    (One sentence)

     
    Why Is This Behavior Challenging?

     

    (Two or Three sentences)

     
    Why Do You Think Behavior Has Not Improved?

     

    (Two or Three sentences)

     
    Steps Teacher Has Taken to Improve This Behavior:

     

    (Bullet point steps the teacher has tried)

     

     
    One Positive Reinforcement Technique That Could Be Implemented:

     

    (One sentence)

     
    One Consequence That Could Be Implemented:

     

    (One sentence)

     
    One Verbal Cue the Teacher Can Give the Child:

     

    (One sentence)

     
    One Non-Verbal Cue The Teacher Can Give the Child :

     

    (One sentence)

     
    Short-term Goal Teacher Should Set in Place:

    (One sentence and make sure it is measurable)

     
    Long-term Goal Teacher Should Set in Place:

     

    (One sentence and make sure it is measurable)

     
    How Should Data Be Collected to Measure Your Short-Term Goal ?

     

    (Hint: think of how you can assess this goal)

     
    How Should Data Be Collected to Measure Your Long-Term Goal?

     

    (Hint: think of how you can assess this goal)

     
    Teaching: As the new classroom teacher, what strategy would you implement that the teacher hasn’t thought of trying (teach new skills)?

    (One paragraph)

     

     

     

     

     

    Preventions: With this child’s challenging behavior, do you think changing the classroom design would or would not improve classroom behavior (environmental redesign)?

    (One paragraph. Be sure to explain your reasoning)

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Challenging Behavior #3:
    Behavior:

     

    (One sentence)

     
    Where Does Behavior Occur:

     

    (One sentence)

     
    When Does Behavior Occur:

     

    (One sentence based on observation)

     
    What do you think is the child’s motivation for this behavior:

     

    (One sentence)

     
    Impact of the Child’s Behavior on the rest of the class:

     

    (One sentence)

     
    What More Appropriate Behavior Should the Child Display:

     

    (One sentence)

     
    Strategies Teacher Has Already Implemented to Try and Improve Behavior:

     

    (List in bullet form)

     
    Strategies Teacher Should Try to Improve Behavior:

     

    (One sentence on a strategy that hasn’t been tried yet)

     
    Short-term goal to improve behavior:

    (One sentence and be specific)

     
    Long-term goal to improve behavior:

     

    (One sentence and be specific)

     
    What New Appropriate Behavior Is Trying to be Taught?

     

    (One sentence and be specific)

     
    How Will This New Behavior Help the Child Be Successful?

     

    (One sentence and be specific)

     
    Teaching: If the problem behavior occurs again after plan has been implemented, what other strategy will you try ?

    (One paragraph)

     

     

     

     

     

    Analysis: What criteria will be used to evaluate progress? What data will be collected? How will it be recorded, and by whom?

    (One paragraph)

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Members of the behavioral plan team:

    (Name titles)

     

     

     

     

    Describe the plan to include parents within this plan:

    (One paragraph)

     

     

     

     

    How long will you implement this plan before meeting again?

    (List length/duration)

     

     

     

    Reflection

     

    Explain the purpose of behavior management in early childhood educational settings and why it is important to think proactively

    (One paragraph)

     

     

     

     

     

    Explain how you think your student will react to this behavior plan:

    (One paragraph)

     

     

     

     

    Describe what else you would do to encourage positive behavior that doesn’t “fit” on the plan:

    (One paragraph)

     

     

     

     

    Summarize the conversation you will have with next year’s teacher in regard to your students’ behavior plan:

    (One paragraph)

     

     

     

     

     

     

    References

    Use APA format to cite and reference at least three scholarly sources, in addition to the course textbook. Remember, you MUST include in-text citations throughout your paper to show your reader what information you used from these outside sources.

     

    Hint: Ctrl + Click FORMATTING YOUR REFERENCES LIST for help.

     

     

    *In the final version of your assignment, be sure that you have removed all of the hints (green boxes) within the template.

White Supremacy, Racism And Racial Formations

Decolonization:  Indigeneity,  Education  &  Society   Vol.  1,    No.  1,    2012,      pp.  1-­‐40

 

2012 E. Tuck & K.W. Yang This is an Open Access article distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution Noncommercial 3.0 Unported License (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/3.0), permitting all non- commercial use, distribution, and reproduction in any medium, provided the original work is properly cited.

 

Decolonization is not a metaphor

Eve Tuck State University of New York at New Paltz

K. Wayne Yang University of California, San Diego

 

Abstract Our goal in this article is to remind readers what is unsettling about decolonization. Decolonization brings about the repatriation of Indigenous land and life; it is not a metaphor for other things we want to do to improve our societies and schools. The easy adoption of decolonizing discourse by educational advocacy and scholarship, evidenced by the increasing number of calls to “decolonize our schools,” or use “decolonizing methods,” or, “decolonize student thinking”, turns decolonization into a metaphor. As important as their goals may be, social justice, critical methodologies, or approaches that decenter settler perspectives have objectives that may be incommensurable with decolonization. Because settler colonialism is built upon an entangled triad structure of settler-native-slave, the decolonial desires of white, non- white, immigrant, postcolonial, and oppressed people, can similarly be entangled in resettlement, reoccupation, and reinhabitation that actually further settler colonialism. The metaphorization of decolonization makes possible a set of evasions, or “settler moves to innocence”, that problematically attempt to reconcile settler guilt and complicity, and rescue settler futurity. In this article, we analyze multiple settler moves towards innocence in order to forward “an ethic of incommensurability” that recognizes what is distinct and what is sovereign for project(s) of decolonization in relation to human and civil rights based social justice projects. We also point to unsettling themes within transnational/Third World decolonizations, abolition, and critical space- place pedagogies, which challenge the coalescence of social justice endeavors, making room for more meaningful potential alliances. Keywords: decolonization, settler colonialism, settler moves to innocence, incommensurability, Indigenous land, decolonizing education

 

 

 

2        E.  Tuck  &  K.W.  Yang

 

Decolonization, which sets out to change the order of the world, is, obviously, a program of complete disorder. But it cannot come as a result of magical practices, nor of a natural shock, nor of a friendly understanding. Decolonization, as we know, is a historical process: that is to say it cannot be understood, it cannot become intelligible nor clear to itself except in the exact measure that we can discern the movements which give it historical form and content.

-Franz Fanon, The Wretched of the Earth, 1963, p. 36

Let us admit it, the settler knows perfectly well that no phraseology can be a substitute for reality.

-Franz Fanon, The Wretched of the Earth, 1963, p. 45

Introduction

For the past several years we have been working, in our writing and teaching, to bring attention to how settler colonialism has shaped schooling and educational research in the United States and other settler colonial nation-states. These are two distinct but overlapping tasks, the first concerned with how the invisibilized dynamics of settler colonialism mark the organization, governance, curricula, and assessment of compulsory learning, the other concerned with how settler perspectives and worldviews get to count as knowledge and research and how these perspectives – repackaged as data and findings – are activated in order to rationalize and maintain unfair social structures. We are doing this work alongside many others who – somewhat relentlessly, in writings, meetings, courses, and activism – don’t allow the real and symbolic violences of settler colonialism to be overlooked.

Alongside this work, we have been thinking about what decolonization means, what it wants and requires. One trend we have noticed, with growing apprehension, is the ease with which the language of decolonization has been superficially adopted into education and other social sciences, supplanting prior ways of talking about social justice, critical methodologies, or approaches which decenter settler perspectives. Decolonization, which we assert is a distinct project from other civil and human rights-based social justice projects, is far too often subsumed into the directives of these projects, with no regard for how decolonization wants something different than those forms of justice. Settler scholars swap out prior civil and human rights based terms, seemingly to signal both an awareness of the significance of Indigenous and decolonizing theorizations of schooling and educational research, and to include Indigenous peoples on the list of considerations – as an additional special (ethnic) group or class. At a conference on educational research, it is not uncommon to hear speakers refer, almost casually, to the need to “decolonize our schools,” or use “decolonizing methods,” or “decolonize student thinking.” Yet, we have observed a startling number of these discussions make no mention of Indigenous

 

 

Decolonization  is  not  a  metaphor    3

 

peoples, our/their1 struggles for the recognition of our/their sovereignty, or the contributions of Indigenous intellectuals and activists to theories and frameworks of decolonization. Further, there is often little recognition given to the immediate context of settler colonialism on the North American lands where many of these conferences take place.

Of course, dressing up in the language of decolonization is not as offensive as “Navajo print” underwear sold at a clothing chain store (Gaynor, 2012) and other appropriations of Indigenous cultures and materials that occur so frequently. Yet, this kind of inclusion is a form of enclosure, dangerous in how it domesticates decolonization. It is also a foreclosure, limiting in how it recapitulates dominant theories of social change. On the occasion of the inaugural issue of Decolonization: Indigeneity, Education, & Society, we want to be sure to clarify that decolonization is not a metaphor. When metaphor invades decolonization, it kills the very possibility of decolonization; it recenters whiteness, it resettles theory, it extends innocence to the settler, it entertains a settler future. Decolonize (a verb) and decolonization (a noun) cannot easily be grafted onto pre-existing discourses/frameworks, even if they are critical, even if they are anti-racist, even if they are justice frameworks. The easy absorption, adoption, and transposing of decolonization is yet another form of settler appropriation. When we write about decolonization, we are not offering it as a metaphor; it is not an approximation of other experiences of oppression. Decolonization is not a swappable term for other things we want to do to improve our societies and schools. Decolonization doesn’t have a synonym.

Our goal in this essay is to remind readers what is unsettling about decolonization – what is unsettling and what should be unsettling. Clearly, we are advocates for the analysis of settler colonialism within education and education research and we position the work of Indigenous thinkers as central in unlocking the confounding aspects of public schooling. We, at least in part, want others to join us in these efforts, so that settler colonial structuring and Indigenous critiques of that structuring are no longer rendered invisible. Yet, this joining cannot be too easy, too open, too settled. Solidarity is an uneasy, reserved, and unsettled matter that neither reconciles present grievances nor forecloses future conflict. There are parts of the decolonization project that are not easily absorbed by human rights or civil rights based approaches to educational equity. In this essay, we think about what decolonization wants.

There is a long and bumbled history of non-Indigenous peoples making moves to alleviate the impacts of colonization. The too-easy adoption of decolonizing discourse (making decolonization a metaphor) is just one part of that history and it taps into pre-existing tropes that get in the way of more meaningful potential alliances. We think of the enactment of these tropes as a series of moves to innocence (Malwhinney, 1998), which problematically attempt to reconcile settler guilt and complicity, and rescue settler futurity. Here, to explain why decolonization is and requires more than a metaphor, we discuss some of these moves to innocence:

1 As an Indigenous scholar and a settler/trespasser/scholar writing together, we have used forward slashes to reflect our discrepant positionings in our pronouns throughout this essay.

 

http://www.reuters.com/article/2012/02/29/us-navajo-urbanoutfitters-idUSTRE81S2IT20120229#http://www.reuters.com/article/2012/02/29/us-navajo-urbanoutfitters-idUSTRE81S2IT20120229

 

4        E.  Tuck  &  K.W.  Yang

 

i. Settler nativism ii. Fantasizing adoption iii. Colonial equivocation iv. Conscientization v. At risk-ing / Asterisk-ing Indigenous peoples vi. Re-occupation and urban homesteading

Such moves ultimately represent settler fantasies of easier paths to reconciliation. Actually, we argue, attending to what is irreconcilable within settler colonial relations and what is incommensurable between decolonizing projects and other social justice projects will help to reduce the frustration of attempts at solidarity; but the attention won’t get anyone off the hook from the hard, unsettling work of decolonization. Thus, we also include a discussion of interruptions that unsettle innocence and recognize incommensurability.

The  set  of  settler  colonial  relations

Generally speaking, postcolonial theories and theories of coloniality attend to two forms of colonialism2. External colonialism (also called exogenous or exploitation colonization) denotes the expropriation of fragments of Indigenous worlds, animals, plants and human beings, extracting them in order to transport them to – and build the wealth, the privilege, or feed the appetites of – the colonizers, who get marked as the first world. This includes so-thought ‘historic’ examples such as opium, spices, tea, sugar, and tobacco, the extraction of which continues to fuel colonial efforts. This form of colonialism also includes the feeding of contemporary appetites for diamonds, fish, water, oil, humans turned workers, genetic material, cadmium and other essential minerals for high tech devices. External colonialism often requires a subset of activities properly called military colonialism – the creation of war fronts/frontiers against enemies to be conquered, and the enlistment of foreign land, resources, and people into military operations. In external colonialism, all things Native become recast as ‘natural resources’ – bodies and earth for war, bodies and earth for chattel.

The other form of colonialism that is attended to by postcolonial theories and theories of coloniality is internal colonialism, the biopolitical and geopolitical management of people, land, flora and fauna within the “domestic” borders of the imperial nation. This involves the use of

2 Colonialism is not just a symptom of capitalism. Socialist and communist empires have also been settler empires (e.g. Chinese colonialism in Tibet). “In other words,” writes Sandy Grande, “both Marxists and capitalists view land and natural resources as commodities to be exploited, in the first instance, by capitalists for personal gain, and in the second by Marxists for the good of all” (2004, p.27). Capitalism and the state are technologies of colonialism, developed over time to further colonial projects. Racism is an invention of colonialism (Silva, 2007). The current colonial era goes back to 1492, when colonial imaginary goes global.

 

 

Decolonization  is  not  a  metaphor    5

 

particularized modes of control – prisons, ghettos, minoritizing, schooling, policing – to ensure the ascendancy of a nation and its white3 elite. These modes of control, imprisonment, and involuntary transport of the human beings across borders – ghettos, their policing, their economic divestiture, and their dislocatability – are at work to authorize the metropole and conscribe her periphery. Strategies of internal colonialism, such as segregation, divestment, surveillance, and criminalization, are both structural and interpersonal.

Our intention in this descriptive exercise is not be exhaustive, or even inarguable; instead, we wish to emphasize that (a) decolonization will take a different shape in each of these contexts – though they can overlap4 – and that (b) neither external nor internal colonialism adequately describe the form of colonialism which operates in the United States or other nation-states in which the colonizer comes to stay. Settler colonialism operates through internal/external colonial modes simultaneously because there is no spatial separation between metropole and colony. For example, in the United States, many Indigenous peoples have been forcibly removed from their homelands onto reservations, indentured, and abducted into state custody, signaling the form of colonization as simultaneously internal (via boarding schools and other biopolitical modes of control) and external (via uranium mining on Indigenous land in the US Southwest and oil extraction on Indigenous land in Alaska) with a frontier (the US military still nicknames all enemy territory “Indian Country”). The horizons of the settler colonial nation-state are total and require a mode of total appropriation of Indigenous life and land, rather than the selective expropriation of profit-producing fragments.

Settler colonialism is different from other forms of colonialism in that settlers come with the intention of making a new home on the land, a homemaking that insists on settler sovereignty over all things in their new domain. Thus, relying solely on postcolonial literatures or theories of coloniality that ignore settler colonialism will not help to envision the shape that decolonization must take in settler colonial contexts. Within settler colonialism, the most important concern is land/water/air/subterranean earth (land, for shorthand, in this article.) Land is what is most valuable, contested, required. This is both because the settlers make Indigenous land their new home and source of capital, and also because the disruption of Indigenous relationships to land represents a profound epistemic, ontological, cosmological violence. This violence is not temporally contained in the arrival of the settler but is reasserted each day of occupation. This is why Patrick Wolfe (1999) emphasizes that settler colonialism is a structure and not an event. In the process of settler colonialism, land is remade into property and human relationships to land are restricted to the relationship of the owner to his property. Epistemological, ontological, and cosmological relationships to land are interred, indeed made pre-modern and backward. Made savage.                                                                                                                           3 In using terms as “white” and “whiteness”, we are acknowledging that whiteness extends beyond phenotype.

4 We don’t treat internal/external as a taxonomy of colonialisms. They describe two operative modes of colonialism. The modes can overlap, reinforce, and contradict one another, and do so through particular legal, social, economic and political processes that are context specific.

 

 

6        E.  Tuck  &  K.W.  Yang

 

In order for the settlers to make a place their home, they must destroy and disappear the Indigenous peoples that live there. Indigenous peoples are those who have creation stories, not colonization stories, about how we/they came to be in a particular place – indeed how we/they came to be a place. Our/their relationships to land comprise our/their epistemologies, ontologies, and cosmologies. For the settlers, Indigenous peoples are in the way and, in the destruction of Indigenous peoples, Indigenous communities, and over time and through law and policy, Indigenous peoples’ claims to land under settler regimes, land is recast as property and as a resource. Indigenous peoples must be erased, must be made into ghosts (Tuck and Ree, forthcoming).

At the same time, settler colonialism involves the subjugation and forced labor of chattel slaves5, whose bodies and lives become the property, and who are kept landless. Slavery in settler colonial contexts is distinct from other forms of indenture whereby excess labor is extracted from persons. First, chattels are commodities of labor and therefore it is the slave’s person that is the excess. Second, unlike workers who may aspire to own land, the slave’s very presence on the land is already an excess that must be dis-located. Thus, the slave is a desirable commodity but the person underneath is imprisonable, punishable, and murderable. The violence of keeping/killing the chattel slave makes them deathlike monsters in the settler imagination; they are reconfigured/disfigured as the threat, the razor’s edge of safety and terror.

The settler, if known by his actions and how he justifies them, sees himself as holding dominion over the earth and its flora and fauna, as the anthropocentric normal, and as more developed, more human, more deserving than other groups or species. The settler is making a new “home” and that home is rooted in a homesteading worldview where the wild land and wild people were made for his benefit. He can only make his identity as a settler by making the land produce, and produce excessively, because “civilization” is defined as production in excess of the “natural” world (i.e. in excess of the sustainable production already present in the Indigenous world). In order for excess production, he needs excess labor, which he cannot provide himself. The chattel slave serves as that excess labor, labor that can never be paid because payment would have to be in the form of property (land). The settler’s wealth is land, or a fungible version of it, and so payment for labor is impossible.6 The settler positions himself as both superior and normal; the settler is natural, whereas the Indigenous inhabitant and the chattel slave are unnatural, even supernatural.

Settlers are not immigrants. Immigrants are beholden to the Indigenous laws and epistemologies of the lands they migrate to. Settlers become the law, supplanting Indigenous                                                                                                                           5 As observed by Erica Neeganagwedgin (2012), these two groups are not always distinct. Neeganagwedgin presents a history of the enslavement of Indigenous peoples in Canada as chattel slaves. In California, Mexico, and the U.S. Southwest under the Spanish mission system, Indigenous people were removed from their land and also made into chattel slaves. Under U.S. colonization, California law stipulated that Indians could be murdered and/or indentured by any “person” (white, propertied, citizen). These laws remained in effect until 1937.   6 See Kate McCoy (forthcoming) on settler crises in early Jamestown, Virginia to pay indentured European labor with land.

 

 

Decolonization  is  not  a  metaphor    7

 

laws and epistemologies. Therefore, settler nations are not immigrant nations (See also A.J. Barker, 2009).

Not unique, the United States, as a settler colonial nation-state, also operates as an empire – utilizing external forms and internal forms of colonization simultaneous to the settler colonial project. This means, and this is perplexing to some, that dispossessed people are brought onto seized Indigenous land through other colonial projects. Other colonial projects include enslavement, as discussed, but also military recruitment, low-wage and high-wage labor recruitment (such as agricultural workers and overseas-trained engineers), and displacement/migration (such as the coerced immigration from nations torn by U.S. wars or devastated by U.S. economic policy). In this set of settler colonial relations, colonial subjects who are displaced by external colonialism, as well as racialized and minoritized by internal colonialism, still occupy and settle stolen Indigenous land. Settlers are diverse, not just of white European descent, and include people of color, even from other colonial contexts. This tightly wound set of conditions and racialized, globalized relations exponentially complicates what is meant by decolonization, and by solidarity, against settler colonial forces.

Decolonization in exploitative colonial situations could involve the seizing of imperial wealth by the postcolonial subject. In settler colonial situations, seizing imperial wealth is inextricably tied to settlement and re-invasion. Likewise, the promise of integration and civil rights is predicated on securing a share of a settler-appropriated wealth (as well as expropriated ‘third-world’ wealth). Decolonization in a settler context is fraught because empire, settlement, and internal colony have no spatial separation. Each of these features of settler colonialism in the US context – empire, settlement, and internal colony – make it a site of contradictory decolonial desires7.

Decolonization as metaphor allows people to equivocate these contradictory decolonial desires because it turns decolonization into an empty signifier to be filled by any track towards liberation. In reality, the tracks walk all over land/people in settler contexts. Though the details are not fixed or agreed upon, in our view, decolonization in the settler colonial context must involve the repatriation of land simultaneous to the recognition of how land and relations to land have always already been differently understood and enacted; that is, all of the land, and not just symbolically. This is precisely why decolonization is necessarily unsettling, especially across lines of solidarity. “Decolonization never takes place unnoticed” (Fanon, 1963, p. 36). Settler colonialism and its decolonization implicates and unsettles everyone.

7 Decolonization is further fraught because, although the setter-native-slave triad structures settler colonialism, this does not mean that settler, native, and slave are analogs that can be used to describe corresponding identities, structural locations, worldviews, and behaviors. Nor do they mutually constitute one another. For example, Indigenous is an identity independent of the triad, and also an ascribed structural location within the triad. Chattel slave is an ascribed structural position, but not an identity. Settler describes a set of behaviors, as well as a structural location, but is eschewed as an identity.

 

 

8        E.  Tuck  &  K.W.  Yang

 

Playing  Indian  and  the  erasure  of  Indigenous  peoples

Recently in a symposium on the significance of Liberal Arts education in the United States, Eve presented an argument that Liberal Arts education has historically excluded any attention to or analysis of settler colonialism. This, Eve posited, makes Liberal Arts education complicit in the project of settler colonialism and, more so, has rendered the truer project of Liberal Arts education something like trying to make the settler indigenous to the land he occupies. The attendees were titillated by this idea, nodding and murmuring in approval and it was then that Eve realized that she was trying to say something incommensurable with what they expected her to say. She was completely misunderstood. Many in the audience heard this observation: that the work of Liberal Arts education is in part to teach settlers to be indigenous, as something admirable, worthwhile, something wholesome, not as a problematic point of evidence about the reach of the settler colonial erasure.

Philip Deloria (1998) explores how and why the settler wants to be made indigenous, even if only through disguise, or other forms of playing Indian. Playing Indian is a powerful U.S. pastime, from the Boston Tea Party, to fraternal organizations, to new age trends, to even those aforementioned Native print underwear. Deloria maintains that, “From the colonial period to the present, the Indian has skulked in and out of the most important stories various Americans have told about themselves” (p. 5).

The indeterminacy of American identities stems, in part, from the nation’s inability to deal with Indian people. Americans wanted to feel a natural affinity with the continent, and it was Indians who could teach them such aboriginal closeness. Yet, in order to control the landscape they had to destroy the original inhabitants. (Deloria, 1998, p.5)

L. Frank Baum (author of The Wizard of Oz) famously asserted in 1890 that the safety of white settlers was only guaranteed by the “total annihilation of the few remaining Indians” (as quoted in Hastings, 2007). D.H. Lawrence, reading James Fenimore Cooper (discussed at length later in this article), Nathaniel Hawthorne, Hector St. John de Crevecoeur, Henry David Thoreau, Herman Melville, Walt Whitman and others for his Studies in Classic American Literature (1924), describes Americans’ fascination with Indigeneity as one of simultaneous desire and repulsion (Deloria, 1998).

“No place,” Lawrence observed, “exerts its full influence upon a newcomer until the old inhabitant is dead or absorbed.” Lawrence argued that in order to meet the “demon of the continent” head on and this finalize the “unexpressed spirit of America,” white Americans needed either to destroy Indians of assimilate them into a white American world…both aimed at making Indians vanish from the landscape. (Lawrence, as quoted in Deloria, 1998, p. 4).

 

http://web.archive.org/web/20071209193251/http://www.northern.edu/hastingw/baumedts.htm

 

Decolonization  is  not  a  metaphor    9

 

Everything within a settler colonial society strains to destroy or assimilate the Native in order to disappear them from the land – this is how a society can have multiple simultaneous and conflicting messages about Indigenous peoples, such as all Indians are dead, located in faraway reservations, that contemporary Indigenous people are less indigenous than prior generations, and that all Americans are a “little bit Indian.” These desires to erase – to let time do its thing and wait for the older form of living to die out, or to even help speed things along (euthanize) because the death of pre-modern ways of life is thought to be inevitable – these are all desires for another kind of resolve to the colonial situation, resolved through the absolute and total destruction or assimilation of original inhabitants.

Numerous scholars have observed that Indigeneity prompts multiple forms of settler anxiety, even if only because the presence of Indigenous peoples – who make a priori claims to land and ways of being – is a constant reminder that the settler colonial project is incomplete (Fanon, 1963; Vine Deloria, 1988; Grande, 2004; Bruyneel, 2007). The easy adoption of decolonization as a metaphor (and nothing else) is a form of this anxiety, because it is a premature attempt at reconciliation. The absorption of decolonization by settler social justice frameworks is one way the settler, disturbed by her own settler status, tries to escape or contain the unbearable searchlight of complicity, of having harmed others just by being one’s self. The desire to reconcile is just as relentless as the desire to disappear the Native; it is a desire to not have to deal with this (Indian) problem anymore.

Settler  moves  to  innocence

We observe that another component of a desire to play Indian is a settler desire to be made innocent, to find some mercy or relief in face of the relentlessness of settler guilt and haunting (see Tuck and Ree, forthcoming, on mercy and haunting). Directly and indirectly benefitting from the erasure and assimilation of Indigenous peoples is a difficult reality for settlers to accept. The weight of this reality is uncomfortable; the misery of guilt makes one hurry toward any reprieve. In her 1998 Master’s thesis, Janet Mawhinney analyzed the ways in which white people maintained and (re)produced white privilege in self-defined anti-racist settings and organizations.8 She examined the role of storytelling and self-confession – which serves to equate stories of personal exclusion with stories of structural racism and exclusion – and what she terms ‘moves to innocence,’ or “strategies to remove involvement in and culpability for systems of domination” (p. 17). Mawhinney builds upon Mary Louise Fellows and Sherene Razack’s (1998) conceptualization of, ‘the race to innocence’, “the process through which a woman comes to believe her own claim of subordination is the most urgent, and that she is unimplicated in the subordination of other women” (p. 335).

Mawhinney’s thesis theorizes the self-positioning of white people as simultaneously the oppressed and never an oppressor, and as having an absence of experience of oppressive power                                                                                                                           8 Thank you to Neoma Mullens for introducing Eve to Mawhinney’s concept of moves to innocence.

 

http://www.collectionscanada.gc.ca/obj/s4/f2/dsk2/tape15/PQDD_0008/MQ33991.pdf

 

10        E.  Tuck  &  K.W.  Yang

 

relations (p. 100). This simultaneous self-positioning afforded white people in various purportedly anti-racist settings to say to people of color, “I don’t experience the problems you do, so I don’t think about it,” and “tell me what to do, you’re the experts here” (p. 103). “The commonsense appeal of such statements,” Malwhinney observes, enables white speakers to “utter them sanguine in [their] appearance of equanimity, is rooted in the normalization of a liberal analysis of power relations” (ibid.). In the discussion that follows, we will do some work to identify and argue against a series of what we call ‘settler moves to innocence’. Settler moves to innocence are those strategies or positionings that attempt to relieve the settler of feelings of guilt or responsibility without giving up land or power or privilege, without having to change much at all. In fact, settler scholars may gain professional kudos or a boost in their reputations for being so sensitive or self-aware. Yet settler moves to innocence are hollow, they only serve the settler. This discussion will likely cause discomfort in our settler readers, may embarrass you/us or make us/you feel implicated. Because of the racialized flights and flows of settler colonial empire described above, settlers are diverse – there are white settlers and brown settlers, and peoples in both groups make moves to innocence that attempt to deny and deflect their own complicity in settler colonialism. When it makes sense to do so, we attend to moves to innocence enacted differently by white people and by brown and Black people. In describing settler moves to innocence, our goal is to provide a framework of excuses, distractions, and diversions from decolonization. We discuss some of the moves to innocence at greater length than others, mostly because some require less explanation and because others are more central to our initial argument for the demetaphorization of decolonization. We provide this framework so that we can be more impatient with each other, less likely to accept gestures and half-steps, and more willing to press for acts which unsettle innocence, which we discuss in the final section of this article.

Moves  to  innocence  I:  Settler  nativism

In this move to innocence, settlers locate or invent a long-lost ancestor who is rumored to have had “Indian blood,” and they use this claim to mark themselves as blameless in the attempted eradications of Indigenous peoples. There are numerous examples of public figures in the United States who “remember” a distant Native ancestor, including Nancy Reagan (who is said to be a descendant of Pocahontas) and, more recently, Elizabeth Warren9 and many others, illustrating how commonplace settler nativism is. Vine Deloria Jr. discusses what he calls the Indian- grandmother complex in the following account from Custer Died for Your Sins:

9 See Francie Latour’s interview (June 1 2012) with Kim Tallbear for more information on the Elizabeth Warren example. In the interview, Tallbear asserts that Warren’s romanticized claims and the accusations of fraud are evidence of ways in which people in the U.S. misunderstand Native American identity. Tallbear insists that to understand Native American identity, “you need to get outside of that binary, one-drop framework.”

 

http://www.collectionscanada.gc.ca/obj/s4/f2/dsk2/tape15/PQDD_0008/MQ33991.pdf
http://www.collectionscanada.gc.ca/obj/s4/f2/dsk2/tape15/PQDD_0008/MQ33991.pdf
http://www.collectionscanada.gc.ca/obj/s4/f2/dsk2/tape15/PQDD_0008/MQ33991.pdf
http://www.boston.com/community/blogs/hyphenated_life/2012/06/the_myth_of_native_american_bl.html

 

Decolonization  is  not  a  metaphor    11

 

During my three years as Executive Director of the National Congress of American Indians it was a rare day when some white [person] didn’t visit my office and proudly proclaim that he or she was of Indian descent… At times I became quite defensive about being a Sioux when these white people had a pedigree that was so much more respectable than mine. But eventually I came to understand their need to identify as partially Indian and did not resent them. I would confirm their wildest stories about their Indian ancestry and would add a few tales of my own hoping that they would be able to accept themselves someday and leave us alone. Whites claiming Indian blood generally tend to reinforce mythical beliefs about Indians. All but one person I met who claimed Indian blood claimed it on their grandmother’s side. I once did a projection backward and discovered that evidently most tribes were entirely female for the first three hundred years of white occupation. No one, it seemed, wanted to claim a male Indian as a forebear. It doesn’t take much insight into racial attitudes to understand the real meaning of the Indian-grandmother complex that plagues certain white [people]. A male ancestor has too much of the aura of the savage warrior, the unknown primitive, the instinctive animal, to make him a respectable member of the family tree. But a young Indian princess? Ah, there was royalty for the taking. Somehow the white was linked with a noble house of gentility and culture if his grandmother was an Indian princess who ran away with an intrepid pioneer… While a real Indian grandmother is probably the nicest thing that could happen to a child, why is a remote Indian princess grandmother so necessary for many white [people]? Is it because they are afraid of being classed as foreigners? Do they need some blood tie with the frontier and its dangers in order to experience what it means to be an American? Or is it an attempt to avoid facing the guilt they bear for the treatment of the Indians? (1988, p. 2-4)

Settler nativism, or what Vine Deloria Jr. calls the Indian-grandmother complex, is a settler move to innocence because it is an attempt to deflect a settler identity, while continuing to enjoy settler privilege and occupying stolen land. Deloria observes that settler nativism is gendered and considers the reasons a storied Indian grandmother might have more appeal than an Indian grandfather. On one level, it can be expected that many settlers have an ancestor who was Indigenous and/or who was a chattel slave. This is precisely the habit of settler colonialism, which pushes humans into other human communities; strategies of rape and sexual violence, and also the ordinary attractions of human relationships, ensure that settlers have Indigenous and chattel slave ancestors.

Further, though race is a social construct, Indigenous peoples and chattel slaves, particularly slaves from the continent of Africa, were/are racialized differently in ways that support/ed the logics and aims of settler colonialism (the erasure of the Indigenous person and

 

 

12        E.  Tuck  &  K.W.  Yang

 

the capture and containment of the slave). “Indians and Black people in the US have been racialized in opposing ways that reflect their antithetical roles in the formation of US society,” Patrick Wolfe (2006) explains:

Black people’s enslavement produced an inclusive taxonomy that automatically enslaved the offspring of a slave and any other parent. In the wake of slavery, this taxonomy became fully racialized in the “one-drop rule,” whereby any amount of African ancestry, no matter how remote, and regardless of phenotypical appearance, makes a person Black. (p. 387)

Kim Tallbear argues that the one-drop rule dominates understandings of race in the United States and, so, most people in the US have not been able to understand Indigenous identity (Latour, 2012). Through the one-drop rule, blackness in settler colonial contexts is expansive, ensuring that a slave/criminal status will be inherited by an expanding number of ‘black’ descendants. Yet, Indigenous peoples have been racialized in a profoundly different way. Native American- ness10 is subtractive: Native Americans are constructed to become fewer in number and less Native, but never exactly white, over time. Our/their status as Indigenous peoples/first inhabitants is the basis of our/their land claims and the goal of settler colonialism is to diminish claims to land over generations (or sooner, if possible). That is, Native American is a racialization that portrays contemporary Indigenous generations to be less authentic, less Indigenous than every prior generation in order to ultimately phase out Indigenous claims to land and usher in settler claims to property. This is primarily done through blood quantum registries and policies, which were forced on Indigenous nations and communities and, in some cases, have overshadowed former ways of determining tribal membership. Wolfe (2006) explains:

For Indians, in stark contrast, non-Indian ancestry compromised their indigeneity, producing “half-breeds,” a regime that persists in the form of blood quantum regulations. As opposed to enslaved people, whose reproduction augmented their owners’ wealth, Indigenous people obstructed settlers’ access to land, so their increase was counterproductive. In this way, the restrictive racial classification of Indians straightforwardly furthered the logic of elimination. (p. 387)

The racializations of Indigenous people and Black people in the US settler colonial nation-state are geared to ensure the ascendancy of white settlers as the true and rightful owners and occupiers of the land.

In the national mythologies of such societies, it is believed that white people came first and that it is they who principally developed the land; Aboriginal peoples are presumed to be mostly dead or assimilated. European settlers thus become the

10 Native American, then, can be a signifier for how Indigenous peoples (over 500 federally recognized tribes and nations in the U.S. alone) are racialized into one vanishing race in the U.S. settler-colonial context.

 

http://www.boston.com/community/blogs/hyphenated_life/2012/06/the_myth_of_native_american_bl.html

 

Decolonization  is  not  a  metaphor    13

 

original inhabitants and the group most entitled to the fruits of citizenship.” (Razack, 2002, p. 1-2; emphasis original.)

In the racialization of whiteness, blood quantum rules are reversed so that white people can stay white, yet claim descendance from an Indian grandmother. In 1924, the Virginia legislature passed the Racial Integrity Act, which enforced the one-drop rule except for white people who claimed a distant Indian grandmother – the result of strong lobbying from the aristocratic “First Families of Virginia” who all claim to have descended from Pocahontas (including Nancy Reagan, born in 1921). Known as the Pocahontas Exception, this loophole allowed thousands of white people to claim Indian ancestry, while actual Indigenous people were reclassified as “colored” and disappeared off the public record11.

Discussion 2: Securing Accountability

The push toward accountability seen throughout the P-12 educational settings is now evidenced within teacher preparation programs, ensuring that universities and colleges are adequately preparing future teachers for the task. Such pressures are even more rampant within the field of special education. Special education teachers are tasked with the responsibility of not only ensuring students, individual needs are being met with meaningful curriculum and instruction, but that they are making adequate progress toward their goals and objectives. Student learning rests at the core of accountability within educational systems (Fullan & Quinn, 2016). While internal accountability focuses on individuals’ and groups’ efforts at continuous improvement and success for all students, external accountability focuses on leaders’ responsibility to be transparent with the public about the system’s ability to meet expectations and requirements. Both internal and external accountability are integral to the Coherence Framework, strengthening the vision and collaboration of the organization, thus establishing deepening of learning goals. For this Discussion, you will analyze both internal and external accountability and their role in whole systems change. As the special education leader, how will you secure accountability?

To Prepare:

  • Review Chapter 5, “Securing Accountability,” in the Fullan and Quinn text, focusing on the aspects of internal and external accountability. How would you distinguish between internal and external      accountability?
  • Reflect on the Norman and Sherwood (2015) article, considering how internal and external accountability measures have shaped teacher preparation programs.
  • Reflect on the plans you have created for the case scenario viewed in Modules 2 and 3 so far and reflect on how you would secure accountability if you were a leader of the staff in this scenario.

An explanation of how you would build internal accountability based on the case scenario. What steps would you recommend to ensure effective implementation of external accountability? Include an analysis of each concept and evidence from the case scenario, as well as other learning resources to support your rationale.

Learning Resources

Required Readings

Fullan, M., & Quinn, J. (2016). Coherence: The right drivers in action for schools, districts, and systems. Thousand Oaks, CA: Corwin.

  • Chapter 4, “Deepening Learning” (pp. 77–108)
  • Chapter 5, “Securing Accountability” (pp. 109–126)

Fullan, M. (2015a). Leadership from the middle: A system strategy. Education Canada55(4), 22–26. Retrieved from http://www.cea-ace.ca/education-canada/article/leadership-middle

Leadership from the Middle: A System Strategy by Fullan, M., in Education Canada, Winter 2015. Copyright 2015 by Canadian Education Association. Reprinted by permission of Canadian Education Association via the Copyright Clearance Center.

Norman, P. J. & Sherwood, S. A. S. (2015).  Using internal and external evaluation to shape teacher preparation curriculum: A model for continuous program improvement.  New Educator, 11(1), 4-23. Doi: 10.1080/1547688X.2015.1001263

Leko, M.M., Brownell, M.T., Sindelar, P.T., & Kiely, M.T. (2015). Envisioning the future of special education personnel preparation in a standards-based era. Exceptional Children, 82(1), 25-43. doi: 10.1177/0014402915598782

Liu, P. (2015). Motivating teachers’ commitment to change through transformational school leadership in Chinese urban upper secondary schools. Journal of Educational Administration, 53(6), 735–754. doi: 10.1108/JEA-02-2014-002

Rock, M.L., et al (2016). 21st century change drivers: Considerations for constructive transformative models of special education teacher development. The Journal of the Teacher Education Division of the Council for Exceptional Children, 39(2), 98-120. doi: 10.1177/0888406416640634

Required Media

Grand City Community

Laureate Education (Producer) (2016c). Tracking data [Video file]. Baltimore, MD: Author.

Go to the Grand City Community and click into Grand City School District Administration Offices. Review the following scenario: Tracking Data.

Required Media

Grand City Community

  • Laureate Education (Producer) (2016b). Mandate meeting [Video      file]. Baltimore, MD: Author.

Go to the Grand City Community and click into Grand City High School. Review the following scenario: Mandate Meeting.

Chapter 5

Securing Accountability

Earlier we called accountability the big bugbear, and it is. And when you think of it, sorting out accountability is as basic as humankind (think of raising your children, relationships between spouses, your own personal sense of responsibility). People in charge have tried to solve the accountability problem directly (put out the garbage or you will be grounded Saturday night). As we saw from Daniel Pink, the “carrots and sticks” approach does not work for anything that requires initiative, judgment, and ongoing commitment.

We have been working for years on how to position accountability to be an effective component of school and system change. Recently, we brought these ideas together in an article on collective accountability (Fullan, Rincón-Gallardo, & Hargreaves, 2015) and for individual accountability (Fullan, 2015). We draw heavily on these accounts in this chapter.

The argument is this: If you want effective accountability, you need to develop conditions that maximize internal accountability—conditions that increase the likelihood that people will be accountable to themselves and to the group. Second, you need to frame and reinforce internal account- ability with external accountability—standards, expectations, transparent data, and selective interventions. This chapter describes how this internal- external dynamic works and the evidence that this is the best approach for the fourth component of the Coherence Framework: securing accountability (see Figure 5.1).

Internal Accountability

Simply stated, accountability is taking responsibility for one’s actions. At the core of accountability in educational systems is student learning. As City, Elmore, Fiarman, and Teitel (2009) argue, “the real accountability system is in the tasks that students are asked to do” (p. 23). Constantly improving and refining instructional practice so that students can engage in deep learning tasks is perhaps the single most important responsibility of the teaching profession and educational systems as a whole. In this sense, accountability as defined here is not limited to mere gains in test scores but on deeper and more meaningful learning for all students.

Internal accountability occurs when individuals and groups willingly take on personal, professional, and collective responsibility for continuous improvement and success for all students (Hargreaves & Shirley, 2009).

External accountability is when system leaders reassure the public through transparency, monitoring, and selective intervention that their system is performing in line with societal expectations and requirements. The priority for policy makers, we argue, should be to lead with creating the conditions for internal accountability, because they are more effective in achieving greater overall accountability, including external accountability. Policy makers also have direct responsibilities to address external account- ability, but this latter function will be far more effective if they get the internal part right.

Existing research on school and system effectiveness and improvement (DuFour & Eaker, 1998; Marzano, 2003; Pil & Leana, 2006; Zavadsky, 2009) and our own work with educational systems in the United States and internationally (Fullan, 2010; Hargreaves & Fullan, 2012; Hargreaves & Shirley, 2009) suggests that internal accountability must precede external accountability if lasting improvement in student achievement is the goal.

Richard Elmore (2004) conducted a series of intensive case studies of individual schools—some that failed to improve and some that improved their performance. Relative to the former, schools that failed to improve were not able to achieve instructional coherence, despite being in systems with strong external accountability. A minority of schools did develop internal coherence together and showed progress on student achievement. The main feature of successful schools was that they built a collaborative culture that combined individual responsibility, collective expectations, and corrective action—that is, internal accountability. Transparent data on instructional practices and student achievement were a feature of these cultures. As these cultures developed, they were also able to more effectively engage the external assessment system. Highlighting the fundamental role of internal accountability on school improvement, Elmore (2004) pointed out the following:

It seems unlikely to us that schools operating in the default mode—where all questions of accountability related to student learning are essentially questions of individual teacher respon- sibility—will be capable of responding to strong obtrusive accountability systems in ways that lead to systematic deliberate improvement of instruction and student learning. The idea that a school will improve, and therefore, the overall performance of its students, implies a capacity for collective deliberation and action that schools in our sample did not exhibit. Where virtually all decisions about accountability are made by individual teachers, based on their individual conceptions of what they and their students can do, it seems unlikely that these decisions will somehow aggregate into overall improvement for the school. (p. 197)

Internal accountability is based on the notion that individuals and the group in which they work can transparently hold themselves responsible for their performance. We already know that current external accountability schemes do not work because, at best, they tell us that the system is not performing but do not give a clue about how to fix the situation. As Elmore (2004) observes, if people do not know how to fix the problem and so cannot do so, then the following will occur:

Schools will implement the requirements of the external account- ability system in pro forma ways without ever internalizing the values of responsibility and efficacy that are the nominal objectives of those systems. (p. 134)

Elmore (2004) then concludes this:

“Logically precede,” yes, but more to the point of our framework, internal accountability must strategically precede engagement with external accountability. This is why focusing direction, cultivating collaborative cultures, and deepening learning precede accountability in our Coherence Framework.

There are two messages here: One is that policy makers and other leaders are well advised to establish conditions for developing cultures of internal accountability. The second is that there are things other people can do when the hierarchy is not inclined to move. The answer is to “help make it happen in your own situation”—that is, develop collaborative work with your peers and push upward for this work to be supported.

The history of the teaching profession is laced with assumptions of and conditions for isolated, individual responsibility. But atomistic responsibility, detached from any group, can never work. In a nutshell, the cultural shift needed is to shift to collaborative cultures that honor and align individual responsibility with collective expectations and actions.

Elmore discusses several schools that he and his team studied. Most of them exemplify the individualistic model. Teachers work away on their own and periodically grapple or clash with external accountability requirements. But Elmore also discusses two cases where the schools have developed more or less “collaborative” cultures. The first case is St. Aloysius Elementary School:

Without exception, teachers described an atmosphere of high expectations. Some stressed a high priority on “reaching every child” and “making sure that no one is left behind” while others referred to a serious and supportive environment where everyone is expected to put forth excellent work. (Elmore, 2004, p. 164)

It sounds ideal, but what happens when things don’t go as expected? At another school, Turtle Haven, Elmore (2004) asked teachers, “What happens when teachers do not meet the collective expectations?” He reports that “most teachers believed that a person who did not meet . . . expectations, or conform to a culture created by those expectations would first receive a great deal of support from the principal and other colleagues” (p. 183).

If this approach failed to produce results, most Turtle Haven teachers said that the teacher in question would not be happy at the school and eventually would either “weed themselves out [or] eventually . . . if there was a sense in the community that a certain number of children were not able to get the kind of education that we say we’re committed to providing . . . we would have to think whether the somebody belongs here or not” (Elmore, 2004, p. 183).

This kind of culture is not foolproof, but we would say it stacks up well against the external accountability thinking that creates demands that go unheeded or can’t be acted on. In the collaborative cultures, the internal accountability system is based on visible expectations combined with consequences for failure to meet set expectations.

Such cultures, says Elmore (2004), are much better equipped to deal with external accountability requirements, adding that a school with a strong internal accountability culture might respond to external assessments in a number of ways, “including accepting and internalizing it; rejecting it and developing defenses against it, or incorporating just those elements of the system that the school or the individuals deem relevant” (p. 145).

What is coming through in this discussion is that collaborative cultures with an eye to continuous improvement establish internal processes that allow them to sort out differences and to make effective decisions. At the level of the microdynamics of school improvement, Elmore (2004) draws the same conclusion we do at the system level: investing in the conditions that develop internal accountability is more important than beefing up external accountability.

The Ontario Reform Strategy, which we discussed in previous chapters, offers an illustrative example of the importance of internal account- ability preceding external accountability systemwide. The Canadian province of Ontario, with 4,900 schools in 72 districts serving some two million students, started in 2004 to invest in building capacity and internal accountability at the school and district levels. The initial impulse for the reform came from leadership at the top of the education system—Dalton McGuinty, the premier of the province at the time—through the establishment of a small number of ambitious goals related to improvements in literacy, numeracy, and high school retention. However, the major investments focused on strengthening the collective capacity of teachers, school principals, and district leaders to create the conditions for improved instructional practice and student achievement (Glaze, Mattingley, & Andrews, 2013).

There was little overt external accountability in the early stages of the Ontario Reform Strategy. External accountability measures were gradually introduced in the form of assessment results in grades 3 and 6 in literacy and numeracy, and in high school, retention numbers, transparency of data, and a school turnaround support-focused policy called Ontario Focused Intervention Program (OFIP) for schools that were underperforming. This system has yielded positive and measurable results in literacy that has improved dramatically across the 4,000 elementary schools and in high school graduation rates that have climbed from 68 percent to 84 percent across the 900 high schools. The number of OFIP schools, originally at over 800, has been reduced to 69 schools even after the criteria to identify a school as in need of intervention had widened to include many more schools (Glaze et al., 2013; Mourshed, Chijioke, & Barber, 2010).

An evaluation of the reform strategy in 10 of Ontario’s 72 school districts that concentrated particularly on the special education aspects of the reform pointed to significant narrowing of the achievement gap in writing scores for students with learning disabilities (Hargreaves & Braun, 2012).

Concerns were expressed among teachers who were surveyed about some of the deleterious consequences of standardized testing in grades 3 and 6— that the tests came at the end of the year at a point that was too late to serve a diagnostic function, that they were not sufficiently differentiated in order to match differentiated instructional strategies, and that principals in some schools placed undue emphasis on “bubble kids” near the baseline for proficiency rather than on students who struggled the most with literacy. Perhaps predictably, administrators who were surveyed at the school and system levels were more supportive of the standardized assessments.

The most intriguing finding though was that special education resource teachers, whose role was moving increasingly to providing in-class support, welcomed the presence of transparent objective data. They saw it as a way of drawing the attention of regular classroom teachers to the fact and the finding that students with learning disabilities could, with the right support, register valid and viable gains in measurable student achievement. Together, these findings point to the need to review the nature and form of high-stakes assessments—more differentiated, more just-in-time, and more directed at the needs of all students, perhaps—but also to the value of having transparent data that concentrate everyone’s attention on supporting all students’ success along with diagnostic data and collaborative professional responsibility for all students’ learning, development, and success.

A similar approach to whole system improvement can be found in U.S. districts that have been awarded the prestigious Broad Prize for Urban Education, granted to urban school districts that demonstrate the greatest overall performance and improvement while reducing achievement gaps based on race, ethnicity, and income. In her in-depth study of five such districts, Zavadsky (2009) finds that, while diverse in context and strategies, these districts have addressed the challenge of improving student performance systemwide following remarkably similar approaches: investing in, growing, and circulating the professional capital of schools (what they term building capacity) to improve instructional practice by fostering teacher collaboration and collective accountability. These successful schools set high instructional targets, attracting and developing talent, aligning resources to key improvement priorities, constantly monitoring progress, and providing timely targeted supports when needed.

The solid and mounting evidence on the fundamental impact of internal accountability on the effectiveness and improvement of schools and school systems contrasts sharply with the scarce or null evidence that external accountability, by itself or as the prime driver, can bring about lasting and sustained improvements in student and school performance. There is, indeed, a growing realization that external accountability is not an effective driver of school and system effectiveness. At best, external accountability does not get its intended results. At worst, it produces undesirable and sometimes unconscionable consequences, such as the cheating scandal in Atlanta (Hill, 2015).

We frequently ask successful practitioners that we work with how they themselves handle the “accountability dilemma” (direct account- ability doesn’t work; indirect may be too soft). What follows are a few responses that we have personally received to this question: What is effective accountability? Not surprisingly, these views are entirely consistent with Elmore (2004):

Accountability is now primarily described as an accountability for student learning. It is less about some test result and more about accepting ownership of the moral imperative of having every student learn. Teachers talk about “monitoring” differently. As they engage in greater sharing of the work, they talk about being accountable as people in the school community know what they are doing and looking to see what is changing for students as a result. And as they continue to deprivatize teaching, they talk about their principal and peers coming into their classrooms and expecting to see the work [of agreed-upon practices] reflected in their teaching, their classroom walls, and student work. (Anonymous, personal communication, November 2014)

Teachers and administrators talk about accountability by deprivatizing their practice. If everyone knows what the other teacher or administrator is working on and how they are working on it with students, it becomes a lot easier to talk about accountability. When everyone has an understanding of accountability, creating clear goals and steps to reach those goals, it makes it easier for every- one to talk and work in accountable environments. (Elementary principal, personal communication, November 2014)

I spoke with my staff about accountability versus responsibility in brainstorming, about what is our purpose and who is responsible for what . . . being explicit and letting teachers collectively deter- mine what our responsibilities are. (Secondary school principal, personal communication, November 2014)

We are moving to define accountability as responsibility. My district has been engaged in some important work that speaks to intrinsic motivation, efficacy, perseverance, etc., and accountability is seen as doing what is best for students . . . working together to tackle any challenge and being motivated by our commitment as opposed to some external direction. (Superintendent, personal communication, November 2014)

When you blow down the doors and walls, you can’t help but be evermore accountable. (Superintendent, personal communication, November 2014)

I do believe that a lot of work remains to be done on building common understanding on the notion of accountability. Many people still believe that someone above them in the hierarchy is accountable. Very few take personal accountability for student learning and achievement. There are still those who blame parents and students’ background for achievement. (Consultant, personal communication, November 2014)

In one school, the talk about accountability was pervasive as the school became designated as underperforming. The morale of the school went down significantly, and the tension was omnipresent at every meeting. The team switched the conversation to motivation, innovation, and teamwork and the culture changed. The school is energized and the test scores went up in one year. The team is now committed to results and continuous improvement. (Consultant, personal communication, November 2014)

In short, internal accountability is far more effective than external accountability. The bottom line is that it produces forceful accountability in a way that no hierarchy can possibly match. We have shown this to be the case for teachers, and we can make the parallel argument for students. If we want students to be more accountable, we need to change instruction toward methods that increase individual students’ responsibility for assessing their own learning and for students to work in peer groups to assess and provide feedback to each other under the guidance of the teacher. We still need external accountability, and we can now position it more effectively.

External Accountability

External accountability concerns any entity that has authority over you. Its presence is still essential, but we need to reposition external accountability so that it becomes more influential in the performance of individuals, groups, and the system as a whole. We first take the perspective of external authorities and then flip back to local entities.

External Authorities

The first thing to note is that if the external body invests in building widespread internal accountability they will be furthering their own goals of greater organization or system accountability. The more that internal accountability thrives, the greater the responsiveness to external requirements and the less the externals have to do. When this happens, the center has less need to resort to carrots and sticks to incite the system to act responsibly.

Dislodging top-down accountability from its increasingly miscast role has turned out to be exceedingly difficult. People at the top do not like to give up control. They cling to it despite obvious evidence that it does not work. And attacks on the inadequacy of top-down account- ability have failed because they have only focused on the “from” side of freedom. Critics seem to be saying that accountability requirements do not work, so remove them. That is not the complete solution because it takes us back to nothing. The answer is found in our argument in this chapter—rely on developing the conditions for internal accountability and reinforce them with certain aspects of external accountability. In particular, central authorities should focus their efforts on two inter- related activities:

1. Investing in internal accountability

2. Projecting and protecting the system

By the first I mean investing in the conditions that cause internal accountability to get stronger. The beauty of this approach, as we have seen, is that people throughout the system start doing the work of accountability. Though indirect, this form of accountability is really more explicit, more present, and, of course, more effective. We have already suggested its components:

• A small number of ambitious goals, processes that foster shared goals (and even targets if

jointly shaped)

• Good data that are used primarily for developmental purposes

• Implementation strategies that are transparent, whereby people and organizations are

grouped to learn from each other (using the group to change the group)

• Examination of progress in order to problem solve for greater performance

The center needs to invest in these very conditions that result in greater focus, capacity, and commitment at the level of day-to-day practice. They invest, in other words, in establishing conditions for greater local responsibility. In this process, the center will still want goals, standards, assessment, proof of implementation, and evidence of progress. This means investment in resources and mechanisms of internal accountability that people can use to collaborate within their units and across them.

With strong internal accountability as the context, the external accountability role of the system includes the following:

1. Establishing and promoting professional standards and practices, including performance appraisal, undertaken by professionally respected peers and leaders in teams wherever possible and developing the expertise of teachers and teacher-leaders so that they can undertake these responsibilities. With the robust judgments of respected leaders and peers, then getting rid of teachers and administrators who should not be in the profession will become a trans- parent collective responsibility.

 

2. Ongoing monitoring of the performance of the system, including direct intervention with schools and districts in cases of persistent underperformance.

 

 

3. Insisting on reciprocal accountability that manages “up” as well as down so that systems are held accountable for providing the resources and supports that are essential in enabling schools and teachers to fulfill expectations (e.g., “failing” schools should not be closed when they have been insufficiently resourced, or individual teachers should be evaluated in the context of whether they have been forced into different grade assignments every year or have experienced constant leadership instability).

4. Adopting and applying indicators of organizational health as a context for individual teacher and leader performance, such as staff retention rates, leadership turnover rates, teacher absenteeism levels, numbers of crisis related incidents, and so on, in addition to outcome indica- tors of student performance and well-being. These would include measures of social capital in the teaching profession such as extent of collaboration and levels of collegial trust. Outcome measures for students should also, as previously stated, include multiple measures including well-being, students’ sense of control over their own destiny (locus of control), levels of engagement in learning, and so forth.

 

The Perspective of Locals

 

We have drawn on numerous relatively successful examples in this book. They all established strong degrees of internal accountability (people being self and group responsible) that served them well in the external account- ability arena. Such systems strengthened accountability by increasing focus, connecting dots and otherwise working on coherence, building capacity (so people could perform more efficaciously), being transparent about progress and practices, and engaging the external accountability system.

 

As districts increase their capacity, they become stronger in the face of ill-advised external accountability demands as the following two extended examples reveal from Laura Schwalm, former superintendent of Garden Grove.

 

Example One: garden grove Handles External Pressure

 

In the words of Laura Schwalm: Shortly after we completed our audit and instituted a districtwide mandate and system to place students in college prep (a–g) courses, Ed Trust and several other advocacy groups, with sup- port from the California Department of Education (CDE), began “calling out” the low college readiness statistics in large urban districts in California. Every large urban district, including Garden Grove, was called out (rightfully so) with one exception of a district in the north, which was held as a model solution due to the fact that they had made the a–g requirement mandatory for every student and claiming they had eliminated all other courses with absolutely no effect on their graduation rate. Based on this example, the advocacy groups started a very public campaign and got a majority of school boards, including LAUSD, to adopt the policies of this northern district with the pledge that they would achieve 100 percent a–g achievement with no increase in dropout rate within four to five years. When Garden Grove refused to comply (Long Beach did as well), we were more strongly targeted and pressured (the approach we had adopted was to not eliminate all support courses that were not college prep but rather to eliminate a few and to align the rest in a way to provide an “on ramp” to college prep courses while at the same time using individual student-by-student achievement data, rather than the former practice of “teacher recommendation” for placement in college prep courses) (one of the shameful things our audit revealed, which did not surprise me, was that if you were an Asian student with mean achievement on the California Standards Tests, you had about a 95 percent chance of being “recommended for placement in a-g courses”—conversely, if you were a Latino male with the exact same scores, you had less than 30 percent chance of being recommended for placement in these courses).

 

As the pressure continued to adopt a policy of mandating an exclusive a–g curriculum, I met with a few of the key advocates and explained that while we shared the same goal of increasing our unacceptably low a–g completion rate, we strongly felt the approach they were suggesting was ill advised. Putting students in a course for which they were absolutely not prepared, based on very objective data, and then expecting them to pass the course with a grade of C or better was unfair to both students and teachers. They kept focusing on the district up north, which led me to point out to them that the data from that district did not support what they were claiming. If their approach was truly working, then their achievement scores, as measured by the state, should be outperforming ours, and in fact, they fell far short of ours, for all subgroups. Additionally, a neigh- boring district that had adopted the same policy now claimed a 90 percent a–g completion rate, yet 65 percent of their high school students scored below the mean on the state standards test. It clearly pointed out that all was not as it looked on the surface, and while I had no desire to criticize another district’s approach, I was not about to follow it. That caused the advocates to pause and finally to leave us alone. Our rate, both in terms of a–g completion and student achievement data by subgroup, continued to climb. Within a few years, we surpassed all the others, and over time, the policy the CDE and advocates had pushed into districts quietly vanished. Unfortunately, in many places where it vanished, a robust and fair system did not replace it, and those districts continue to struggle with this problem (L. Schwalm, personal communication, 2014).

 

Example Two: Garden Grove Deals With the Bureaucracy

 

Again in Schwalm’s words: Another example occurred during one of the CDE’s three-year systemwide compliance reviews. While I accepted the state’s responsibility to oversee that we were not using specially designated funding for inappropriate uses, as well as to assure we were following laws around equity and access for all students, the process they had was unnecessarily burdensome, requiring us to dedicate significant staff to collecting, cataloging, and preparing documentation that filled dozens and dozens of boxes. When the state team came—usually about 10 to 12 people, each looking at different programs with one person loosely designated as team lead—the expectation was that you treat them like royalty and that they had enormous authority. My view was somewhat different. I respected that they had a job to do, but just because they did not like the way we displayed something did not mean we needed to do it differently or because they would have used another approach—our approach, if appropriately supported with data—was not out of bounds. At one of the first reviews early on in my superintendency, we drew a particularly weak but officious team with a very weak lead. They came up with some particularly lame findings (i.e., one team member commended us on how we used data to identify areas of focus for targeted groups of students, while another team member marked us as noncompliant in this area because we did not put it on a form that she had developed—and other equally ludicrous examples). At the end of the process, the superintendent was required to sign an agreement validating the team’s findings as well as a plan and timeline to bring things into “compliance.” I very professionally told them that I did not agree with their findings and thus could not sign either document—I was not going to pretend to fix something that I had no intention of doing because there was nothing wrong with it in the first place. What I did do was sign a document, which we drafted, acknowledging that the team had, in fact, been there and that we agreed to a couple of specific areas where we needed to and would make some changes, but I did not agree with the majority of the report and would not agree to take any action other than what was previously specified. This seemed pretty fair to me, but apparently it shocked them and the system, which was the beginning of my unpopularity with many in CDE. Probably this was made worse when the story got out (not by my telling), and other super- intendents realized that they could do the same thing (although I advised those who contacted me—and a number did—that their life would not be particularly easy for awhile and also that they should have the data and results to back their stand) (L. Schwalm, personal communication, 2014).

 

You can see why in another book (where I cited an even more egregious example of defiance) I referred to Laura as a “rebel with a cause” (Fullan, 2015). There are two lessons here with what I have called both the freedom-from problem and the freedom-to problem. You need to attend to both. The freedom-from problem is what Laura did—refusing to comply with ridiculous demands. But she was backed up by her freedom- to actions in which she built a culture of coherence, capacity, and internal accountability. If you do the latter, you are in good shape to contend with the external accountability system, including acting on external performance data that do show that you need to improve.

 

In California as a whole, they currently face the freedom-to problem. The wrong drivers are on the way out the door. Jerry Brown, the governor, has suspended all statewide student tests for at least two years on the grounds that it is better to have no tests than to have the wrong test. So far so good, but getting rid of bad tests is not enough for securing account- ability. New tests—Smarter Balanced Assessment Curriculum (SBAC)— are being piloted relative to CCSS. Districts would be well advised to use our Coherence Framework to build their focused accountability. They will then perform better and be in a better position to secure their own accountability as they relate to the ups and downs of external accountability. External accountability as wrong as it can get sometimes is a phenomenon that keeps you honest. Leaders need to be skilled at both internal and external accountability and their interrelationship.

 

Final Thoughts

 

In sum, local leaders have to play their part in establishing internal accountability and in relating to the external accountability system. The most direct way of understanding what is needed for internal accountability is to work diligently on the first three components of the Coherence Framework: focusing direction, cultivating collaborative cultures, and deepening learning. In many ways, this is tantamount to establishing the conditions for individuals and the group to be accountable to themselves. Part and parcel of internal accountability involves discussing it among staff: what are we trying to do, how well are we progressing, how we define accountability among ourselves, and so on.

 

In addition, it is essential to engage the external policy and accountability system. This does not mean you follow orders; we mentioned earlier about the need to “move unproductive compliance to the side of the plate,” and, certainly, Laura exemplifies this quality. But it does mean that you take the state vision seriously; you track your progress relative to state goals and to other schools and districts. A good, basic way to address the outside is to participate in it. This means being part of networks, presenting at regional and state conferences, and contributing to the betterment of the overall system through helping others. It means being plugged into what is happening on the outside.

 

Securing accountability is not about pleasing the system (although there is nothing wrong with that) but about acting in ways that are in your own interest. In other words, if you address the sequence of internal and external accountability as we have discussed it in this chapter, you will be furthering your own ends. Think of accountability as integral to the Coherence Framework. It is not something you do as an after- thought. If you address accountability explicitly as we have set out in this chapter, you will be strengthening focused vision (to be accountable is to be precise about what you are doing), building better collaboration (because it is for a measurable cause), and deepening learning (because the agenda these days has shifted to 21st century learning goals that have been hitherto neglected).

 

Throughout the chapters, we have talked about leadership. It is now time to step back and to address it in its own right. What do you need to know and do to lead for coherence? More importantly, how can you cultivate such leadership in others? Effective leaders must help the entire organization cultivate the Coherence Framework in its daily culture.

 

Review Infographic 5 to consolidate your knowledge about Securing Accountability.

A description of each controversial or non-research-based method;

In Topic 6, DQ1 you identified two controversial or non-research-based methods to help build communication skills among nonverbal students. Identify two additional controversial or non-research-based methods, and then create a six-panel brochure for teachers and other practitioners in which you explain and outline the following for each method:

  • A description of each controversial or non-research-based method;
  • Explain why each method is controversial and or/not considered valid; and
  • Explain why use of each method could be inappropriate for individuals with ASD.

In light of the myriad of articles and information on ASD and related strategies, how would you advise practitioners and teachers to determine whether the strategies are evidence based? Provide specific examples.

Support your analysis with 3-5 scholarly resources.

Prepare this assignment according to the APA guidelines found in the APA Style Guide