Yes, Teachers Have Extraordinary Autonomy. And That's a Good Thing.

Demographer/author Joel Kotkin says teachers unions are “turning schools into indoctrination camps” with the “kind of education perfected in Stalin’s Russia.” Betsy McCaughey, former lieutenant governor of New York, likens public schools to “North Korea’s reeducation camps.” Conservative writer Karol Markowicz says, “Leftist indoctrination is warping kids’ development.” Central to the problem, we’re told, is teachers’ autonomy.

As much as I disagree with the current conservative assault on classroom teacher autonomy, it does revolve around something I've long thought odd about our education system–as long as you can keep your class under control, the deans aren't being called and parents aren't calling the school, and you're not failing “too many” kids, what you're actually teaching doesn’t get much attention. Administrators have neither the time nor often the expertise to do so.

Every classroom teacher position represents a hole that needs to be filled–in some ways, the job of a school’s administration comes down to filling these holes well and keeping them filled. Teaching is a tough job. If a teacher can pull off all of the above consistently, administrators can move on to other pressing issues, and are loath to tamper with a functional situation over a seemingly secondary or tertiary issue like class content. 

Also, teachers’ autonomy is protected by their unions and by state laws, though the protections offered by both vary greatly.

One result is, as perceptive conservative critic Robert Pondiscio recently explained, "nearly no category of public employee has the degree of autonomy of the average public school teacher—even the least experienced ones." 

But teacher autonomy is both good and necessary. I value the freedom to do what I know will work best for the students I have in front of me. I don't always get it right, of course, but I get it right vastly more than I would if I had to follow prescribed lessons. 

Pondiscio, a senior fellow at the conservative American Enterprise Institute, asserts, accurately, that "curriculum materials are put in front of children that have no official oversight or approval. It’s true that schools might have a state- or district-adopted curriculum, but that doesn’t mean it’s getting taught...Teachers routinely create or cobble together their own lesson plans."

I mentor young teachers and often explain to them the importance of doing exactly what Pondiscio opposes–crafting lessons that will work for their students, as opposed to following the canned lessons we are given.

I often tell them: “Never go into a class with a lesson that you don't believe in, even if it was recommended to you by an administrator or your department chair told you to use it. Remember, you’re the one who needs to be in front of those kids every day, and above all, you need to maintain their respect. None of these other people and none of the education experts at a university who developed the lesson are going to be in front of that class with their reputations on the line. 

“The lesson they've given you or recommended may well be an excellent lesson, but for it to work you need to make it your own first. And if you can't make the lesson they've given you your own, then make up your own.”

The necessity of coming up with your own lessons and of reworking the canned lessons to make them your own is a major reason why teaching is so labor-intensive.

Critics point to a RAND survey that found that 96 percent of secondary school teachers said that they use “Materials I developed and/or selected myself (including materials developed in collaboration with other teachers but not formally circulated to teachers across the district for use in classroom lessons).” This is cited to support the conservative contention that teachers are running wild with content, however, the only real surprise in this finding is that 4% of teachers don't use informally developed materials.

Moreover, the survey question is double-barreled–it fails to distinguish between using materials you “developed yourself” and using materials you developed through collaboration with other teachers. These are two very different things. And why shouldn't teachers use materials they've developed with other teachers? What better way to develop lessons that will work with that particular school’s student body?

Critics complain that teachers bring in current events and political issues that allegedly don't have anything to do with the subject that is supposed to be taught. For example, in her article, "K-12 schools need to stop brainwashing our kids on climate change," McCaughey is infuriated that, in one school, students are being taught “about the dire effects of climate change, even in gym, math and art.” 

What McCaughey is criticizing is an example of interdisciplinary studies, an educational goal that is part of the mission statement of many schools. In fact, teachers are scolded by superiors, often accurately, for too often being alone in our “silos” and not coordinating content and lessons with teachers in different disciplines. 

We can all agree on the value of teaching current events–tying the content we’re teaching to what is going on in the world right now helps students understand the content’s relevance and importance, and makes the class more interesting. 

I've often had students proudly tell me that their families saw a news item on CNN or Telemundo and didn't understand it, but because we’d discussed it in class, the student was able to explain it to their parents, grandparents, or elder siblings. If teachers are not allowed to select and develop their own materials, how are we to teach about current events? 

Beyond current events, what about impromptu lessons? Several times a month I lead off class with something I heard on conservative talk radio while driving to work that same morning. 

For example, a couple of months ago the hosts of The Armstrong & Getty Show were bemoaning “Bidenflation”, repeatedly stating that because prices have gone up roughly 20% during the time of the Biden presidency, “everybody’s net worth has dropped 20% during the Biden presidency.” 

When I got to school I challenged my Economics students to tell me what was wrong with this statement. A few of them got it–the value of people's real estate, stocks, and other investments has gone up significantly during the Biden years, so while inflation has taken a significant toll on people's paychecks, Americans’ net worth is actually slightly up since Biden became president.

I told the students, “See, you're better than you think you are. Here we have two prominent individuals saying something that several of you understood was false.” 

Impromptu additions to lessons are often inspired by the students themselves. If I'm describing a World War II battle and a kid mentions that they saw a representation of that battle in their Call of Duty game, I'll ask them to send me a link to it. I'll look at it, and might well use it to begin class the next day. In fact, students like to send me things that I can use in class and at times get competitive about whose contribution I choose. 

Do critics believe that I should have had to run any of the above by an administrator or some panel to get approval? Does anybody believe such approval would be given in a timely manner? 

Critics are correct about the unusual amount of autonomy teachers have but they fail to make the crucial connection between our autonomy and the demands of our profession. Teachers are required to have 30 or 40 young people who do not want to be controlled under our control and on-task all day every day. This isn’t easy, and if we don’t get it right, there are few professions where one pays the cost of failure so quickly. 

A classroom teacher’s primary concern is and has to be the need to have a lesson that will work when you're in front of those kids tomorrow morning. For that, autonomy is crucial.