鈥淒o you know what the trigger word down here is? 鈥楨quity,鈥欌�� Joseph Cousins, a minister in Cherokee County, Ga., told me about a year ago. 鈥淭o me, equity means fairness, compassion, goodness, honesty, decency.鈥濃��
I had been reporting a story about school boards鈥� passing resolutions restricting how schools can teach about race, gender, and other topics. And, as Cousins predicted, hot on the heels of the 鈥渃ritical race theory鈥� legislative wrecking ball, equity had suddenly become a code word for scary-sounding things: race-related trainings, quotas, 鈥淢arxist鈥� theory.
A case in point: A school board member in Oregon told me a few days later that he understood equity as 鈥渢rying to force the same set of outcomes for students,鈥� which, he said, was different from giving them equal opportunities to succeed.鈥�
This story is part of a special project called Big Ideas in which EdWeek reporters ask hard questions about K-12 education鈥檚 biggest challenges and offer insights based on their extensive coverage and expertise.
As someone with many years鈥� experience writing about schools, I found this distinction puzzling, as it surely must be for anyone working in schools so far this century. That鈥檚 because the notion that schools should get students to reach a basic level of academic mastery is not at all a foreign one. It has actually been baked into federal education law for years.
Two decades ago, the No Child Left Behind law took effect. It required states to ensure that, within a 12-year period, all students in grades 3-8 would attain grade-level proficiency in math and reading. It put significant pressure on school boards and educators to reach those goals. The law was enacted with huge bipartisan support.
I feel confident in asserting that President George W. Bush, the Republican president who proposed the outline for the law, would reject the idea that his signature domestic achievement was part and parcel of race absolutism or a redistribution scheme. And the core idea was renewed in 2015, again with large bipartisan support, when Congress replaced the law with the Every Student Succeeds Act.
What does it mean that a commitment that was eagerly embraced is now so suspect?
How data help us to see inequality鈥�
The brilliant insight that equity is built into the most consequential piece of K-12 education legislation since the 1965 Elementary and Secondary Education Act is not my own. I first heard it mentioned by Luvelle Brown, the superintendent of New York鈥檚 Ithaca City school district,
Brown, a Black man, grew up in a central Virginia school district. There, he told me in a later conversation, he often felt invisible. 鈥淚 was a young person who felt marginalized and felt oppressed. I鈥檓 one of a few people who look like me [back when I was a student] who even survived school,鈥� he said.
That鈥檚 why, as an administrator, he found the NCLB law鈥攚ith its explicit requirement that schools do right by Black students, students with disabilities, and other underserved groups of students鈥攕o revolutionary.鈥����
鈥淚t was the first time, from my perspective, that the law required school districts to see us, just to see us. And to begin to hold schools accountable for seeing us,鈥� he said.鈥�
The law had plenty of well-documented problems. It never had popular buy-in. It relied heavily on testing, put scores of fussy rules in place, distrusted educators, and underemphasized how to empower teachers and administrators to meet its exacting requirements. All that engendered a lot of rage鈥攕ome of it from advocates for Black students, not just from harried administrators. Such problems often distracted from the law鈥檚 core equity promise.
But what the law did do was force a conversation about disparate achievement patterns that had been long ignored, even in supposedly integrated schools. Under the law, districts and principals were supposed to analyze and investigate these patterns and evolve solutions to fix them.鈥�
That remains a very powerful way of analyzing how schools are doing, and it鈥檚 one that school district equity officers say they follow today. They look at the budget, examine how resources are allocated, and investigate patterns of which teachers, schools, and special programs students have access to. Then, they brainstorm how to rejigger resources and patterns to help more students achieve.
This data-informed approach can be used to examine policies that rarely attract much attention鈥攍ike student lunch debt and bus routes鈥攁ll the way up to the hottest of hot-button issues, like student-discipline patterns and enrollment in selective programs and high schools.
The Ithaca district starts off its conversations about equity with the data. The district has an that crunches the numbers on graduation rates, test scores, attendance, and many more granular factors. (At the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, it even calculated how many days each school was forced back into remote learning.)鈥��
Data orient the conversations that principals have with their teams鈥攁nd that Brown has with the community, too.
鈥淲e say we鈥檙e committing to use our data to learn, not judge; that shifts the conversation,鈥� Brown said."I know how to point to data to tell a story about how schools are failing kids鈥攂ut I also know how to look at it to know how to be better for people the next day.鈥�
How much does terminology matter?
Given that using data to ask questions about obstacles to educational attainment isn鈥檛 new, why has its use in the pursuit of equity suddenly become so suspect? For one thing, political actors and think tanks have recently sought to redefine the idea of equity as somehow inconsistent with American principles.
In a recent nationally representative survey, the EdWeek Research Center queried educators on whether they saw 鈥渆quality鈥� as distinct from the term 鈥渆quity.鈥� The responses were telling.
Almost 8 in 10 educators agreed with this definition: 鈥淓quality is about giving all students the same opportunities; equity is about outcomes and giving some students, who have tended to have lower performance or higher needs, additional resources.鈥� About three-quarters of them said their districts had committed to one or both.
But the respondents were not as clear about what this meant in practice.
鈥淓quity has turned into segregation and divides people,鈥� one respondent said. Another offered this framing: 鈥淚n my view, the right wing has created a false debate between equity and equality as a means to continue to deny the most needy the support and help they need.鈥�
The definitional issue is part of the problem, one educator noted: 鈥淒istricts need to define 鈥榚quity鈥� and communicate this definition to our stakeholders, so that critics are not doing that.鈥�
This is perhaps not surprising when you consider our culture鈥檚 larger problems trying to make these distinctions tangible. Internet memes trying to illustrate the difference between equality vs. equity usually feature kids standing on boxes or next to evergreens that look suspiciously like Shel Silverstein鈥檚 Giving Tree. But it鈥檚 much harder knowing what these concepts translate to when applied to real-world problems and policies.
This was always a problem with the NCLB law, too: In its focus on penalties, it set equity goals without defining equity鈥攐r without providing a language, vocabulary, or defined skill set on how educators were supposed to reach those goals.
Many years later, studies suggest the law did prompt some positive effects鈥攅specially on young students鈥� math scores. But the law didn鈥檛 fundamentally change the fact that we continue to fail to give students a 鈥渇air playing field鈥濃�攚hether we measure that on the front end or back end. Many of our state and local education funding formulas are regressive, for example. Districts鈥� boundary lines often exacerbate patterns of housing segregation. Low-income students continue to get more underprepared and out-of-field teachers.鈥�
In today鈥檚 political environment, system leaders who take on these challenges face not only the problem of designing new policies but also in trying to communicate them without setting off a firestorm.
Equity had suddenly become a code word for scary-sounding things: race-related trainings, quotas, 'Marxist' theory.
Fabienne Doucet, a New York University associate professor who studies鈥� urban education in the context of equity, said most district leaders who prioritize equity are upfront about the work they鈥檙e doing. Given the current鈥痗limate of mistrust activist groups are fomenting鈥攍ike the recent, dangerous accusation that educators who support LGBTQ-inclusive policies are in fact 鈥済roomers鈥濃�攖hat鈥檚 a best practice.
鈥淚t鈥檚 part of a broader ethos of trust,鈥� said Doucet, who is also the executive director of the NYU Metropolitan Center for Research on Equity and the Transformation of Schools. 鈥淪mart leaders say, 鈥業 want you to know exactly what I mean, and what I鈥檓 talking about, and why I think it鈥檚 beneficial.鈥� They don鈥檛 want to be stealth.鈥濃��
Superintendent Brown agrees. He doesn鈥檛 shy away from using the term 鈥渁nti-racist.鈥� But, he said, sometimes leaders do have to talk in what might be called different registers, so that people who aren鈥檛 familiar with the ideas have a starting place. For example, he said differentiating instruction鈥攁 concept most parents agree with鈥攊s actually one form of equity, of giving each student what they need to succeed.
Often, he said, his job also means meeting critics on their terms and showing them a different way of thinking.
He recounted how one parent, who objected to steps the district had taken to affirm gender-nonconforming students, marched into a public meeting quoting the Bible. Brown, who grew up attending Sunday services with his family like clockwork, met the challenge.
鈥淪o, I had to really value and affirm this person,鈥� Brown said. 鈥淚 had to say, 鈥業 see you and I, too, love that book. It was the first text that was ever given to me.鈥�
鈥溾�楤ut I also know it was used to enslave people and my ancestors,鈥欌�� he continued. 鈥淎nd this person looked at me, and he had a hard time debating that. I could see him starting to shift, to see that these young people are human, too, and want to be seen for who they are.鈥�
The fears that drive pushback to equity
There鈥檚 one part of Rev. Cousin鈥檚 earlier quote that I haven鈥檛 yet mentioned. When I asked him why he thought people were afraid of equity, he said: 鈥淚 think they have taken it to mean someone鈥檚 going to take something away.鈥濃��
It鈥檚 a clear echo of what educators told EdWeek. And it鈥檚 born out of the idea that educating all students well is somehow a zero-sum game, in which some must fall behind so others can advance. Doucet told me those fears have deep roots in the U.S. racial and class structures that have dominated social organization.
鈥淚t鈥檚 one of those fundamental principles or tenets of the philosophy鈥攖here is scarcity and hierarchy, and order needs to be maintained for things to function as they should,鈥� she said.鈥�
But I can see why such fears also occur among those who would otherwise consider themselves鈥痵upportive of integration, fairness, and equity: Sometimes, doing so means discarding received wisdom about what 鈥渁 good classroom鈥� or 鈥渁 good school鈥� looks like.鈥�
Ithaca faced this when trying to rethink math classes a few years ago. The district decided to give all students access to a solid math sequence beginning in middle school, rather than splitting students into remedial and gifted tracks. (The difficult-to-pull-off idea hasn鈥檛 been empirically studied, and it has generated howls of criticism where it鈥檚 been tried鈥攊ncluding in Ithaca, initially, though things have since settled down.) Embracing new ways of doing things, especially when they seem inconvenient or foreign, is uncomfortable and challenging.
There are ways to overcome this: Smart district leaders are clear about what the data mean, how they define equity, and how they build up supporters of the work in their school systems, creating a critical mass to counter the critics who will never buy in. Another strategy is more pragmatic: to make the case that the new policies benefit everyone, Doucet said.
鈥淚f your logic is there are winners and losers, then somehow, [as a leader], I have to compel you that you will be among the winners, still,鈥� Doucet summarized. 鈥淚 wish that weren鈥檛 the case, that we could just appeal to people鈥檚 better angels.鈥�
Mixed feelings about equity鈥檚 place in federal law
As this suggests, the work of equity these days has largely fallen on the shoulders of committed and politically savvy leaders. The federal K-12 law was supposed to give them political cover to do hard things, but increasingly, it feels as though that shield is crumbling.
It鈥檚 not just the new state laws that seek to restrict conversations about race and gender and the chilling effect that will have on classrooms: It鈥檚 our federal commitment, too. The Every Student Succeeds Act of 2015, or ESSA, is much less heavy-handed about consequences than its predecessor, and its enforcement by the last two administrations, especially on data reporting and school improvement, has been uneven. It鈥檚 simply easier for districts and states to avoid the tough conversations.
What鈥檚 more, not many people appear to want to preserve the law鈥檚 equity features.
The EdWeek Research Center survey found that more than a quarter of educators said that there was nothing positive about the NCLB or ESSA鈥攖he most popular response of the possible choices. Thirty-eight percent of respondents cited the law鈥檚 annual testing requirement as its 鈥渕ost negative outcome.鈥�
Interestingly, about 1 in 5 survey-takers cited the laws鈥� requirements to disaggregate student data as its most positive feature鈥攁nd those data, of course, were only possible thanks to the annual testing. This dissonance is a clear sign for concern.
Perhaps the pandemic has exacerbated fatigue and dissatisfaction with our current federal accountability structure. Perhaps the explanation is simpler: an acknowledgement that the law was never enough to shore up the disparities in what kids bring to school. Perhaps, even in education, we truly are now less committed to equity.
Yet, we know that much of the work of equality or equity are things we can do now鈥攖hings we still can control.
We can ensure that all students receive, for example, early reading instruction that aligns with what we know from scientific studies. We can give them a curriculum that affirms their backgrounds and traditions while also expanding their horizons. We can ensure that they receive an instructional program that avoids fads and instead reflects cognitive science about how kids learn. And we can take steps to make sure students are taught by well-prepared teachers who are ready to deliver that curriculum.
So, let鈥檚 get to work tackling those factors, one by one.鈥�������
For now, after all, it鈥檚 the law.鈥�
