Lunacy 500

Making more of effort generally means you’ll achieve more

Public school reform is always a contender in the Lunacy 500. That’s the perpetual foot race where policymakers run in circles promoting bright ideas that defy common sense.

This year, reformers face stiff competition from Team Pandemic. As an encore to his disinfectant and “powerful light” prescription, President Trump announced he was taking hydroxychloroquine for the COVID-19 he doesn’t have, despite the FDA caution that it “has not been shown to be safe and effective for treating or preventing COVID-19.”

The president responded with his clinical mantra, “What have you got to lose,” despite the FDA finding of nothing to worry about, unless you count “serious heart-related adverse events and death.”

As our death toll neared 100,000, the president observed that “if we didn’t do any testing, we would have very few cases.” This dazzling logic, akin to “if I hadn’t carried my umbrella as often, it wouldn’t have rained as much,” suggests that the leader of the free world could benefit from seventhgrade lessons in cause and effect.

Meanwhile, a vocal contingent of beach goers appears convinced that the Continental Army suffered at Valley Forge to preserve Americans’ right to tan closer than six feet apart. Give me liberty, or give me sunscreen.

Not to be outdone, education experts and schools are still piling on to the growth mindset bandwagon “despite scant evidence” the method or the products it’s spawned actually improve academic performance.

Professor Carol Dweck bills her growth mindset theory as “the new science of success.” In contrast to the “dangerous notion” that intelligence is “an inborn trait,” the professor preaches that “you can be as smart as you want to be.” While she’s apparently willing to ignore the role genetics plays in intelligence, she nowhere argues you can be as tall or blue-eyed as you want to be.

Anybody who thinks “innate” intelligence doesn’t exist needs to spend more time with real students in actual classrooms. You could also study adults at the supermarket. Intelligence isn’t the Tooth Fairy. It doesn’t determine our value, but it definitely exists.

Professor Dweck touts effort over intelligence, as if she had to pick one. She contends that “fixed mindset” students who believe in innate intelligence characteristically “do not like effort,” “avoid challenges” and “are devastated by setbacks.” In contrast, students who believe in a “growth mindset” purportedly “love a challenge,” regard mistakes as “friends” and “want to learn above all else.”

I don’t greet struggling students with, “Wow, are you permanently stupid.” Nor have I ever advised successful students, “Don’t bother making an effort. You’re innately brilliant.”

No matter who you are, making more of an effort generally means you’ll achieve more. It’s beyond me how anyone would expect “growth mindset messages” to have a “powerful impact” on student achievement or why any school would spend precious class time and cash on mindset kits and online programs.

Common sense aside, two meta-analyses assessing hundreds of studies found “little to no effect of mindset interventions on academic achievement for typical students.” Teaching readers to identify main ideas, for example, was “more than seven times” more effective.

Mindset “interventions” frequently “did nothing to influence students’ mindsets,” meaning reported academic gains commonly “cannot be attributed to growth mindsets.” Meta-analysts further concluded that “in most of these studies” assertions of “statistical significance” are “essentially meaningless,” that “most of the time the interventions were ineffective,” and that claims of growth mindset’s “profound” benefits “are not warranted.”

Mindset enthusiasts aren’t the only education advocates in the race. At their heels, you’ll find critics of schools’ “culture of complaining,” where teachers “banter” and vent to their colleagues. Examples of offensive “griping” include “My third period class is driving me crazy,” “Why won’t my students turn homework in,” and “When will Ben ever stop talking?”

Guess what? Some classes do drive you crazy, many students don’t do their homework, and every class has a “Ben.” I was sometimes one myself. I’m sure my teachers complained about me in the teachers’ lounge. I don’t blame them, especially if venting there made it easier to deal with me in class.

How many of you with other jobs also blow off steam to your coworkers?

I genuinely enjoy my students’ company. But sometimes it’s okay to “blame students.” That’s because sometimes students are at fault.

One instructional coach recommends eliminating “words and phrases” that allegedly “reflect low expectations of students.” Except some students “aren’t motivated,” and some parents “aren’t engaged.” Mentioning it to another teacher, whether for advice or consolation or to vent, doesn’t make it less true.

Also on the “toxic” list are laments about “this generation.” While I’ve sometimes noted signature faults common among my students, I’ve always reserved most of my generational indictments for my own generation.

Advocates offer strategies to “counter the complaining culture.” The “complaint-free challenge” involves not saying “anything negative about a student for a week.” You can also rebuke colleagues when they complain. The sample scolding begins with “I know we all love our students” and ends by asking the complainer to name “something [he’s] thankful for about [his] students.” Finally, you can suggest replacing complaints with “joy and thankfulness.”

Have you ever had something stuck in your throat, and someone tries to help by spreading sunshine?

Joy and thankfulness are fine, but sometimes first you need to talk. We’re nearing the lunacy finish line. Who’s your money on?