Issue Brief Outline

NCLB: Good Intentions Do Not Make Good Laws

SKELETON OUTLINE

I)       Introduction (anecdotal)

II)    Brief History of Public Education Policy

              A)     Motivation by equal rights issues

1)     Department of Education (1867)

(i)    Only an office

(ii)  Full department in 1980

(iii) Focus on equal rights in education

2)     Brown vs. Board of Education (1954)

(i)    Five separate cases

(ii)  “Separate educational facilities are inherently unequal”

(iii) Passing of the civil rights act

(iv)Precedent for Title IX and NCLB

3)     Elementary and Secondary Education Act (ESEA) (1965): financial aid to students from low-income families

4)     Title IX (1972): prohibition of gender discrimination

              B)     Motivation by a desire for increased national productivity

1)     National Defense Education Act (1958)

(i)    creation from Sputnik

(ii)  funding for improvement in math, science, and foreign language education

2)     GI Bill

(i)    financial aid to veterans for higher education

(ii)  more money to federal government

III)  NCLB’s good intentions

              A)     A desire for equal opportunity

1)     Quote from pamphlet

              B)     A need for a national improvement in educational performance relative to the rest of the world

1)     Quote from pamphlet

2)     Quote from pamphlet

IV)  NCLB’s drawbacks

              A)     Unconstitutionality

1)     unprecedented level of federal involvement in the affairs of our public schools

2)     intrusion on education, a state right

              B)     Contradictory goals and results

1)     Goal: improvement of education through competition; Result: re-segregated schools

(i)    Discrimination in charter schools

(a)   Deleware

(1)  Racial identifiability

(2)  Proficiency of racially identifiable charters

(b)  National study of charters

(1)  Racial composition

(2)  Economic composition

(3)  Low capacity for disabled students

(4)  Lack of English language learners

(5)  Pattern of segregation

(ii)  Discrimination through admissions

(a)   Limited applications

(b)  Long, English-only applications

(1)  parent and student essays

(2)  grades

(3)  test scores

(4)  disciplinary records

(5)  teacher recommendations

(6)  medical records

(c)   Requirement of presentation of social security card or birth certificate (unlawful)

(d)  Mandatory family interviews

(e)   Entrance exams

(f)    Academic prerequisites

(g)   Requirement of reporting of disabilities

2)     Goal: improvement of education for disabled students; result: overemphasis on standardized testing

(i)    Need for improvement for yardstick for disabled students

(ii)  Lack of consideration for severely disabled students

(a)   Blatant inadequacy of questions

(b)  Injury to students

(c)   Difficulty of obtaining waivers

              C)     Overemphasis

1)     Testing

(i)    Bad for students

(a)   Narrowed curriculum

(1)  Neglect of other subjects

(2)  Limited writing

(b)  Emphasis on tests over learning

(1)  Monetary incentives

(2)  Discouragement

(c)   Failure to prepare students for later life

(1)  Lack of focus on innovative thinking

(2)  Focus on test-taking strategy

(d)  Promotion of cheating

(1)  Scrubbing

(2)  ‘the Wesley way’

(ii)  Bad for teachers

(a)   Stifling effectiveness

(1)  Overuse of class time

(2)  Forces teachers to teach curricula they did not develop

(3)  Forces teachers to use materials not catered to the students in their classrooms

(4)  Forces teachers to teach strict, scripted, paced lessons

(5)  Turns teachers into parrots rather than instructors

(b)  Teacher exodus

(1)   New teacher disillusionment  

(2)  Lack of enrollment

(3)  Early retirement

(c)   Unfair evaluation and punishment

(1)  Evaluation based on immutable factors

I.        ethnicity

II.      poverty

III.    classroom size

(2)  Awarding of bonuses

(3)  Termination

2)     Accountability

(i)    Adequate yearly progress

(a)   Achievement goals

(b)  Discipline methods

(1)  Two years: better school transfer

(2)  Three years: free tutoring

(3)  More than three years: state intervention

I.        Closure

II.      Transition to charter

III.    Federal acquisition

IV.    Other turnaround method

(4)  Reservation of Title I funds

V)     Proposed changes

              A)     Basis in analysis of drawbacks

1)     Redistribution of funds

(i)    Needy schools

(ii)  Reduction of class sizes

(iii) Intensified tutoring

(iv)Other effective strategies

2)     Imposition of more strenuous teacher requirements

3)     Reduction of accountability requirements

4)     Use of NAEP

              B)     Basis in analysis of outside bodies (no particular order) research to be completed

1)     Finland

2)     Singapore

3)     South Korea

4)     Japan

5)     Hong Kong

              C)     Problems already solved (ESSA) research to be completed

VI)  Conclusion

This I believe (a better one)

This I believe: music is the universal language.

The sun beat down on the concrete and glass of the city. As we surpassed each block, we caught a glance of the yellow bridges and the sparkle of the two rivers. Ahead, the fountain at the point danced in the heat. Today, the summer music workshop was taking a small field trip to the meeting of the three rivers. 

The conversation in the small group was consistent: the importance of music, our favorite songs, our universal common ground. We moved as a unit, all of the same mind, all sharing the same passion; me, Michael, Levi, Alyssa, Melanie, and everyone else, all walking as side-by-side as we could manage, except for Adam. A passerby wouldn't have thought he was with us; he followed paces behind, eyes tucked under a baseball cap. 

He had been the final arrival at the workshop after a storm in Hong Kong had delayed his flight. We were finishing up introductions as he walked in; he stepped through the doorway intent on being invisible, sliding in front of the beige cinder block wall beside the door swiftly, thinking it might camouflage him. 

"Oh, welcome," said the head counselor as he checked his attendance sheet. "Adam Wu?"
Adam nodded his head and timidly approached the final empty seat in the circle of chairs. The fluorescent lights glinted off of his glasses, temporarily disguising his careful scan of the seated circle of young musicians. 

"Why don't you tell us a little bit about yourself?" 

He swallowed and said, quietly, in a heavy accent, "My name is Adam Wu; I am from China; I play the cello and I do not know much English." 

That night at dinner we talked about our bands back home, our experiences with playing our instruments, and our directors. Adam sat centrally at the table, doing his best to understand the conversation. We didn't hear much from him, but he kept up, nodding when he agreed and making the occasional, brief comment. Despite his best efforts, the language and cultural barrier was tangible and oppressive.

By the next morning, the morning of the trip to the point, we all knew each other well, with the exception of Adam, who was literally and figuratively a few paces behind. As we returned to the rehearsal space a wave of anticipation carried us into the room, where the circle of chairs had broken open into a crescent facing a single chair and music stand.

Our first exercise was to play alone, in alphabetical order, in front of the group to extinguish our nerves. Christie Anderson's fingers shook as she ran a scale and nervously pushed a shock of blond hair out of her eyes before playing her excerpt; we knew she had some serious stage fright and we applauded her enthusiastically after her performance.

As everyone played, we saw who they were, what we had heard about them through words translated through their fingers, ringing through the notes escaping the bells and bodies of their instruments. Finally, it was Adam's turn. Last night, under the reddish restaurant light, we had asked him how he felt about music; his reply was a taciturn "I like it very much."

As he sat in the chair, placing no music on the stand, running his hand over the fingerboard of his cello, the air in the room was still, the anticipation tangible. As he raised the bow above the strings, we all breathed in with him.

In the next instant, the rich sound of his cello filled the room, the lilting arpeggios of Bach's first cello suite ebbing and flowing like breath, like the river outside. It was profound; each note was not played, but carved out, a piece of him, of his soul, drifting into the air and into our ears. His bow called notes into being, giving them life, spectacular life, short lived but astoundingly fervent. 

In those moments, surrounded by his music, we understood the full depth of Adam's statement on his like for music. This couldn't be put into words, in English, in Mandarin, or in any language. This was a feeling only understood when played.  

I never did find out why Adam decided to come to a music workshop in Pittsburgh, but I will be forever grateful that he was there. His transcendent passion is the reason why I believe instrumental music is the universal language; it is the language of emotion, of the soul, of who we truly are, transcending the muddle of language. Where Adam could not speak to us in English, he could speak to us through his cello, telling us exactly who he was without words.

This I Believe (draft)

I don't like to post a draft, but here's my draft.

___________________________________________________________
A few years ago, I went to a music workshop in Pittsburgh. The students were mostly Pittsburghers and kids like me, from small Pennsylvania towns, so there was a lot of common ground to work with, and everyone felt included, with the exception of one guy, Adam Wu, from China. I don’t think Adam was his given name, but that’s what he told us to call him.

Adam barely spoke English, so he had a lot of trouble communicating with everyone, which was especially hard since the workshop only had about 30 kids in it and everyone knew everyone relatively quickly. No one spoke Mandarin, either, so there was an almost impenetrable language barrier around Adam at all times, and a tangible air of frustration surrounding him as a result.

We were all there to learn more about music theory and improve our playing with professionals. Sometimes we would play as a group to learn rehearsal skills, and other times we would play alone for each other to help get rid of the nerves of solo playing.

Adam played the cello, and I’ll never forget the first time we heard him play solo; he played the prelude to Bach’s Cello Suite No.1 like it was the easiest thing he’d done in his life.

In that moment we were all taken somewhere else by his bow and his string, to somewhere without words where language dissolved and was forgotten. It didn’t matter that Adam was from China and we were all from within a 100-mile radius of that music room, and it didn’t matter that none of us knew a word of Mandarin. For those two minutes Adam was speaking Bach, articulating arpeggios in the rich voice of the cello, and we were all understanding perfectly.

I never did find out why Adam decided to come to a music workshop in Pittsburgh, but I will be forever grateful that he was there with his compassionate music. Adam’s music is the reason why I believe instrumental music is the universal language; it is the language of emotion, of the soul, transcending the muddle of words. Where Adam could not speak to us in English, he could speak to us through his cello, and through it, he told us all that we needed to know. 

My Blogs Are Alive With the Sound of Music

Coming up with a good idea is easily the hardest part of writing (or doing anything, for that matter). I spend at least an hour lying in bed every night, trying to fall asleep, but inevitably being accosted by thoughts that branch off in every direction without resolution. Yet, when I sit down and devote ten minutes to thinking about what I want to write about for this course, my mind is a blank piece of paper and inspiration is essentially nonexistent. 

That might be somewhat dramatized, but it certainly proves my point. I do have ideas for both blogs and "This I Believe", however, after too much thinking. All of my ideas revolve around music.

My passion blog was probably the easiest to think about. Last semester I talked about the significance of the music from Freaks and Geeks in context with each episode and the lessons that a coming-of-age narrative inevitably conveys. Unfortunately, that ended up being stifling. My goal for this semester's passion blog is to give myself more room to be creative. My first idea involves writing about soundtracks. This would be close to what I was doing already, but would give me more of a chance to diversify my topics. I recently saw La La Land and my enthusiasm for soundtracks was reignited; the music from the film incredible in and of itself, but within the context of the plot, it becomes even more poignant. My other idea for the passion blog is an interview-based blog, where I would ask people what music means to them and how it has shaped their life. This is more of a gamble, but I think it's doable. I would interview a variety of people, from music majors to directors to performers to enthusiasts.

For my "This I Believe" essay, I want to talk about why I think music is so profound. I won't get into it too much here because I would like to save it for the essay, but I truly believe that all music is transcendental. My other idea for this essay is to talk about my belief that being good to strangers is incredibly important for being happy and fulfilled. 

As far as the civic issues blog, I'm not so sure about what I want to talk about. I definitely want to stay within the realm of education. I believe it would be interesting to delve into comparing America's educational system with that of other countries, and I think it would also be interesting to discuss standardized testing and testing in general in terms of its effectiveness in proliferating learning. I hope that I can just use education as a springboard and talk about various subjects within that topic. 

Overall, I am very enthusiastic about this semester in RCLII. If the title we chose for the class is any indication of how the semester is going to progress, I think we are all in for an interesting few months.

Get excited about Shel Silverstein and golf journalism!!!

I have only had a few public speaking experiences in the past, and by a few, I mean one, my public speaking class in high school. This class taught me that I can learn to do anything if I put my mind to it, so I would definitely like to capitalize on that when it comes to my TED talk. The class also taught me that I am bad at finding time to prepare for a speech and that I have a tendency to get nervous, so those are things that I will definitely need to improve on.

My public speaking teacher in high school said that I was a very good speaker, but that I was sorely lacking in one thing: emotion. This frustrated me to no end, because he had us reading articles about golf and Shel Silverstein poems and other things that I frankly don't get excited about. I had always considered my honesty to be an asset; if I'm not interested in what I'm talking about, then I won't sound interested in what I'm talking about. However, it seemed that my public speaking teacher really wanted us to learn how to BS with aplomb.

So I learned how to BS, and now I'm great at sounding interested in things that I care nothing about. I even read Bootsie Barker Bites so well that I got the opportunity to read it to kids at the local elementary school. Learning that I am able to fake it until I make it really helped me out in the realm of public speaking. Knowing this allowed me to overcome all nervousness, as well. I am now able to convince myself that I am totally prepared and confident just by thinking it, which is a great asset.

Though I can convince myself that I'm prepared, it really helps to actually be prepared. I have always had trouble managing preparation for assignments. I plan to improve my performance in this aspect by setting out specific times for speech writing, preparation, and practice. The best way to prepare is to over-prepare, in my opinion, so that's exactly what I'll do.

In conclusion, I believe that the TED talk will go well for me if I capitalize on my strengths and improve on my weaknesses. I already think I'll do well, and that's half the battle; the other half is with my schedule, but I plan to win.

Mae sucks, Part V (The Final Installment)

Though I'm kind of glad that our Circle blogs are coming to an end, I do have to admit that I will miss crapping all over Mae. I picked the third prompt from our final Circle post assignment because I'm glad that a some at the Times agrees with me that Mae isn't the typical protagonist. The Times review actually says that, ultimately, “Mae, then, is not a victim but a dull villain.” I've already talked about how Mae is very dull, so we agree on that point, but I never actually thought of Mae as a villain or a victim. In this post, I'd like to talk about how Mae isn't a victim and also about how she's kind of a villain, but not truly a villain.

So, the first question is: is Mae a victim? 

The answer is simple and obvious; no, she is not a victim. Though she is harmed (she loses her sense of humanity, her friends, her parents, her ex, and her only significant lover) she is the agent of her own undoing; she would be a victim if the Circle had taken her in and trapped her, if it had forced her to live there and ingrain herself in the texture of the company, if it had forced her hand on any of the terrible decisions she makes. However, she, of her own free will, makes all of the terrible decisions. Though the Circle may influence her decisions to some degree, she ultimately makes the final choices. Simply, she is not a victim.

So, if she isn't a victim, is she a villain? 

Yes, but she's a pretty crappy villain. A villain is defined as someone or something that constitutes an important evil agency in the plot of a novel. Mae isn't even the true villain in The Circle. She is just the face of the true evil, which is the Circle itself. 

Mae would be a true villain if she wasn't so damn ignorant. If she was conscious of the monopolization of almost everything by the Circle, and still continued to help the company further its goals, she might be an interesting character. There would be some opportunity to analyze why she would do such a thing; does she have an interesting backstory, a point in time event that drives her to such nihilistic ends? 

But we can't ask these questions because she isn't interesting, she isn't aware of the Circle's ultimate goals, and she doesn't consciously decide to mess up the world. She just ends up doing it because she's a coward who's afraid of being insignificant, and the Circle allows her to be significant while also using her to further its own goals.

You might have noticed, as I did, that the end of The Circle is significantly different than the bulk of the text before it. So, what is the significance of Eggers' choice to depart from novelistic conventions in Book III of The Circle? 

The abrupt ending signifies the speed with which the Circle closed. The contrast between the length of Book III and the length of previous sections of the book represents the stark difference between Mae prior to Book III and Mae throughout Book III. She has become totally brainwashed (she has the nerve to think Annie's lack of sharing, due to her comatose state, is selfish!). There is also a lot of Circle doctrine in Mae's account of what happens during Book III, showing her total immersion. 

To conclude, I'm very excited about the movie version of The Circle to be released in 2017. I can't wait to see how they portray Mae; will they keep her as she is, a dull puppet of an essentially omnipotent supercompany? Or will Emma Watson unintentionally make Mae a likable character? Who knows? I'm looking forward to it, and I hope you are, too.