When discussing "failing" schools, we often skim the surface. We look at test scores, graduation rates, or the condition of the buildings. But behind all of that is a world most of us never see. It's a world full of science, research, and the mechanics of how teaching really works.
Teaching isn't just about standing in front of a classroom. It's a craft, a skill that needs to be honed over time. It's easy to forget that even though we sat in classrooms for 12 years or more, there is so much about it that we don’t know. The underlying teaching science is challenging for most of us who aren't researchers or educators. And that's okay. We don’t have to be experts; we just have to be curious.
If we want to be good citizens, good voters, and strong advocates of better schools, we must learn all we can.
That’s just being honest.
One safeguard when feeling overwhelmed by the complexities of education and the research underneath it is to KISS (keep it simple, stupid) it. I care about three things: teaching, learning, and outcomes.
On the “teaching” part, I fall down rabbit holes with research from partners like the National Council on Teacher Quality (NCTQ). Recently, I got their report, which examines teacher training in depth. It's not light reading, dense, and full of terms that most of us wouldn't use in everyday conversation, but it's important. Really damn important.
This report shows that too many new teachers are thrown into the deep end without enough training. They're left to figure things out as they go, and their students pay the price.
Think about that for a second. The first-year teacher standing in front of a classroom may be struggling. Not because they don't care or aren't smart enough, but because they need more practice. In other professions, this would be unheard of. Doctors without extensive practice wouldn't be expected to perform surgery on their first day. Why do we expect teachers to be any different?
Many don't engage with this issue because it seems out of our reach. We're not experts, so we leave it to the experts.
But here's the thing: we should care—even if it's hard or complicated. Because what's happening in classrooms across the country affects all of us. Our future, our economy, our communities—they all depend on how well our children are educated.
The NCTQ report talks about "clinical practice." I didn’t know what that meant, so I had to reach for it. All it really means is hands-on experience—the kind of experience that helps teachers hit the ground running on their first day. They're left to sink or swim without it—too often, they're sinking.
Now, it’s one thing to admire a problem. It’s another to develop solutions and offer evidence of where and how they can work.
Some schools and programs are getting it right. They're ensuring new teachers are paired with experienced mentors and given the tools they need to succeed. The results are clear: teachers who get this kind of support are more effective and likelier to stay in the profession.
For those of us on the outside looking in, this might seem like something we don't need to worry about. But if we care about the future, we should be paying attention. We don't need to become experts, but we should be curious. We should want to understand how education works. When we know, we can advocate for better policies and push for changes that make a difference.
If nothing else, we can look for these reports and research and send them to our school board members and state education officials—as their constituents; they should know we care about science more than the politics of education.
In the end, it's about being a good citizen. It's about caring enough to struggle with the things we don't understand. The NCTQ report might be a challenging read, but it's important. If we want our schools to be the best they can be, we should all be willing to dig a little deeper, learn a little more, and push for the changes that will make our schools work better for everyone.