"The Rubber Room" - An example of systemic dysfunction in NYC Schools

I don't want to veer too far from the topic of concern - this is a blog about social work, not schools. But it is about social work in New York City; a lot of social workers work with kids, and if we're working with kids we're going to be involved with NYC school system.

The day after writing my last post on the educational system, I read this article in the New Yorker about what happens to teachers deemed too bad to be in a classroom.

Essentially, teachers who work for the NYC school system get tenure after three years. Once they have tenure, they can't be fired because the United Federation of Teachers, through intensive lobbying, has a stranglehold on the state legislatures ability to reform the system.

What do they do with a really terrible or possibly dangerous teachers who can't get fired? (as well as to innocent teachers who are accused of being terrible or dangerous) They these teachers to a sort of purgatory called the "Rubber Room," where they do nothing, get paid (one person getting $100,000 a year), and wait for arbitration of their case, which can take years. Some will get to retire and collect their pensions (which can be 50% of salary) before their case is ever resolved.

Are these teachers really terrible? Most of the ones interviewed claim to be victims of administrative wrath - written up for speaking their mind. Others point to race as a factor. I'm sure those sitting in the Rubber room are a mix of terrible teachers who screwed up and good-decent oneswho got falsely accused of something.

Frankly, most of the teachers quoted in this article sound like they have some serious personality disorders that they should be dealing with (I know that's not "strength-based," but this is my blog so I can engage in a little armchair diagnosis).

The sympathies of the author, Steven Brill, are clearly with the administrators, and not with the problem teachers and the U.F.T., which comes across quite badly.

Still, even if we accept that in many cases the teachers are the victims, we can agree, can't we, that this is a prime example of how screwed up the educational system is? We are talking about billions of dollars, and a teachers union that has the power to keep people getting paid not to teach. The system of arbitration is endless and byzantine.

This article demonstrates clearly how a system can morph develop a life of its own and become malignant- eventually it exists to perpetuate itself, not to fulfill its original intent.

It doesn't even resemble what it purports to be. And amid that mess, some kids still manage to learn things, and (most) teachers manage to teach them.

I hate the educational system

I hate our educational system. I have a visceral, emotional reaction when look over a (child) client’s report card, with its check marks and its numbers, or when I read an IEP (Individualized Educational Plan), or when I even think about standardized tests for 4th graders.

I respect those who work in the public school system, but I don’t ever want to be in such an environment. I think my (otherwise somewhat repressed) anarchic, anti-authoritarian impulses emerge in the face of any effort to mess with a child, and for me, schools are the biggest perpetrators of this. (In my personal vocabulary, mess with has a very specific meaning – it is the opposite of supporting the child for who he or she is – it is imposing an idea of what he or she should be, and, through this, denying what he or she really is).

Kids get messed with all the time in school, by school. Part of this stems from the way the institution of school has evolved. Many problems in our society stem from conscious or unconscious hypocrisy: we say we are doing something for one reason, but we are really doing it for another. This process works on an individual (“I think/say I want to help but I really want admiration”) and on a societal level.

A good example is the prison system – in theory prisons are for prevention and punishment, but when we look at how the system works, they are for many other purposes, such as the control of given class of people deemed threatening to the social order; the provision of jobs in the region; even to bump up the census count and ensure federal funding for a given congressional district, without having to deal with the convicts' pesky votes.

Similarly, schools: The general assumption is that the purpose of schools is to educate children, and that educating children is important. But if we look at how the education system is supported, funded, and administered, we cannot really continue to believe this, and it becomes clear that schools exist in order to keep kids off the street, and to socialize. How they are socialized is based on what social class they belong to. Wealthy children in rich areas are socialized to collect degrees and become leaders. Poor children are socialized to become content consumers and workers, and not to become criminals. If we really wanted children to be educated we would pay for it. It is important to clarify that many or most individuals in the educational system (social workers, teachers, administrators) do want to educate children (although many have given up considering how this could best be done). It is the institution as a whole that has other aims – and like many social structures, it has a life and a momentum of its own.

Now you know where I stand, and perhaps you strongly disagree with me. But I need to explain my perspective on schools so that I can move on to discuss some challenges to doing social work with kids. I also want to acknowledge that everything I have written about education could also apply to social work. This is not a new idea; to some extent I agree with it, and I will probably explore this question in the future.

I am not a fundamentalist about this, so I am aware that my perspective is problematic both theoretically and practically. First, I do not have a well thought out idea of what education should look like, especially within our current social order, in large metropolises like New York. Any improvement would have to involve a radical rethinking of what education is – a tweak here and there wouldn’t do it. Since I don’t know specifically what would work better, my critique is not particularly constructive – my “theory of education” is woefully incomplete, and verges on just “bitching and moaning.”

From a practical (or, more appropriately, a practice) perspective, I work with children as a social worker and I am aware that children will probably benefit from going to even a terrible school and graduating from high school. So as a family worker (which I am) I have an obligation to support that process, even when I see it as an assault of the inner essence of the child.

I am currently struggling with the challenge of reconciling all this. It touches on the “big question” of social work, that comes up in so many class discussions, of whether we should work on a macro- or a micro-level. Clearly the system is fucked up. What do we do? (More on this issue, and a parsing of the [possibly misguided question itself] some other day.)

I find that I don’t have a tidy way to wrap up this post. In a nut shell, the best I can do is to consider the child and the family from the most holistic perspective possible, including what is best for the “true self,” and for the person-in-environment. This involves supporting the kid to receive the best education possible, but at the same time not putting so much emphasis on education that the message communicated to the child is: “Your education defines you,” or “Get used to jumping through hoops because that’s what life is about.”

In other words, my goals (until I find some better ones – and suggestions are welcome) is not to add to the damage, to hope they’ll get through high school with some dignity, self-esteem, and support them in other ways so that they can get the benefits of school while avoiding the soul-crushing oppression as much as possible. Sounds pretty easy, right?