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Understanding Racial Imbalances in Special Education
Lindsay Clements
Lindsay Clements

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As another April has come and gone, so has another World Autism Month. The Light It Up Blue campaign celebrates each spring with a renewed push for greater understanding and acceptance of individuals with autism spectrum disorder.

And with greater attention to autism (hopefully) comes greater attention to learning and developmental disabilities more broadly. In the context of education, this means greater attention to the who, what, and why of special education (SPED) services.

Special education provides a public education, generally through implementation of individualized curricula, to students with intellectual, learning, developmental, and/or physical disabilities. [1]

Or does it? In the last decade, researchers and policymakers have begun to take a closer look at the students enrolled in SPED. Red flags have emerged, to say the least.

The Numbers Don’t Add Up

At the forefront of concern is evidence of substantial disproportionality in SPED enrollment. Disproportionality arises when a group, such as a racial or ethnic minority, is represented in SPED at a greater rate than they comprise within their school, community, or nation. For example, if a school is comprised of around 65% white students, we should expect that the SPED classrooms are also comprised of around 65% white students.

Yet in nearly every state, rates of SPED enrollment show evidence of overrepresentation of minority groups. [2]

Now, before delving into the possible factors contributing to such disproportionality, it is worth noting that special education is still relatively new to U.S. public education. SPED was first enacted in 1973 and has gone through several policy iterations to reach its current form: the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA).

IDEA mandates that education services for children with disabilities must meet students’ individual needs and must take place in the least restrictive environment possible (ideally with non-disabled students). As well, and perhaps most important for the current discussion, is the mandate that SPED assignment can happen only after appropriate enrollment procedures have concluded. These procedures include aptitude and achievement tests, teacher recommendations, and considerations of the student’s cultural background. [1]

Despite IDEA’s requirements, however, SPED services do not appear to be distributed equitably. [3] Enrollment data show that students of color consistently experience disproportionate inclusion in SPED, and this issue has actually come to the attention of Congress more than once. During both the 19th and 22nd Annual Reports to Congress, the Office of Special Education Programs (OSEP) and the Office of Civil Rights (OCR) reported that students of color may be being misclassified or inappropriately placed in SPED, that such placement may be a form of discrimination, and that SPED students may be receiving services that do not meet their needs. [4]

Red Flags

What kind of disproportionality are we talking about? Let’s look at a snapshot of some of the numbers and contexts that researchers have been tracking:

  • despite Black children constituting only 17% of total school enrollment, they comprise 33% of children diagnosed with mental retardation (now referred to as intellectual disability, ID) [5]
  • Black boys are, on average, 5.5 times more likely to be diagnosed as emotionally disturbed (ED) than are white girls [6]
  • American-Indian boys are, on average, nearly three times more likely than white girls to be diagnosed with a learning disability (LD) [6]
  • among students with disabilities, 57% of Hispanics are educated in partially separate or substantially separate settings and denied access to inclusive settings, compared to 45% of whites [7]
  • English language learners (ELL) are 27% more likely to be placed in special education during the elementary school grades [8]

Where to Begin?

Those are some pretty troubling statistics, and researchers have endeavored to get to the bottom of them. But as one might expect, disproportionality is a complex, layered issue.

And a potentially misleading one. For example, a natural response to reading the numbers above might be that disproportionate overrepresentation is worse than disproportionate underrepresentation. We would be remiss to take that thought as a blanket statement, though. After all, while overrepresentation may reflect heightened disapproval of minority students’ behavioral or academic performance, underrepresentation may reflect minority students’ struggles going unnoticed. And that latter possibility isn’t any better than the former.

For example, the diagnosis of Intellectual Disability in Black students has been shown to decline as poverty increases. [2] In other words, the poorest Black students may be the least likely to be identified as having ID. But, there is still a disproportionately high rate of Black children in SPED who are diagnosed with ID overall.

Such nuanced findings may suggest that Black students are being over- and under-monitored based on their socioeconomic background in addition to, or in lieu of, their academic profile.

Thus, the story that needs to be uncovered is not only the extent of disproportionality (i.e., the raw numbers) but also the forms (i.e., the diagnoses) and the causes.

What’s Happening with SPED Assessment?

Turning to causality in particular, some researchers have hypothesized that the assessment procedures required by IDEA for SPED enrollment may be less rigorous in practice than on paper. In an investigation of how qualitative factors, such as personal beliefs, may affect the rigor of psychological/educational evaluation, Harry, Klinger, Sturges, & Moore (2005) investigated community perceptions of the validity of SPED referrals throughout urban schools in Southern Florida. [9] Extensive interviews with teachers, administrators, and families uncovered a high level of confidence in school-ordered assessments.

That is, the interviewees believed that students would be referred for, and enrolled in, SPED only after a true need for such services was found. Which sounds good! But, paradoxically, this high level of confidence may actually lead to harmful results.

Because from the get-go, students may be vulnerable to inappropriate SPED placement if members of their family, school, and community are unlikely to examine a referral critically. Further, given that studies have found Limited English-Proficient students to be more likely to be placed in SPED, families that experience a language or cultural barrier to their child’s school may face particular disadvantage in advocating for their child.

These same researchers also found that teachers’ perceptions of a student’s learning difficulties, as well as their perception of dysfunction existing within a student’s family, predicted their students’ SPED assessment results. This may indicate a complex process through which a teacher’s perception of a student influences the nature of their interactions (e.g., challenging the student less due to lower expectations), which in turn contributes to lower levels of student achievement and, eventually, consideration for SPED.

Other researchers, however, have suggested that psycho-educational assessment is not the main event in SPED placement at all. [8] Rather, disproportionate referrals may arise from the ongoing failure of regular education classrooms to serve racial and ethnic minority students. They argue that it is the quality of a student’s classroom instruction, and the level of management within the classroom, that should be most emphasized during student assessment. This emphasis would allow for underachievement to be seen as the result of a poor learning environment rather than individual student failure.

What Other Factors Underlie Disproportionate Representation?

Overall, most researchers have concluded that disproportionality in SPED is the result of:

  • subjective student identification practices (e.g., teachers’ interpretation of the same behaviors differently depending on the student);
  • blatant violations of IDEA’s guidelines;
  • and antiquated systems of SPED funding based on category of disability (i.e., schools receive more money if a student is diagnosed with Intellectual Disability than if diagnosed with Dyslexia). [10]

Yet other studies have begun to take a new, ecological approach in their investigations. For example, based on the assumption that low-income students are more likely to be students of color, several researchers have asked: is poverty is associated with increased risk for SPED enrollment?

In one such study, Strand & Geoff (2009) analyzed the 2005 Pupil Level Annual School Census – a data set of 6.5 million students in England. [11] The authors found that poverty and gender explained more disproportionality in SPED enrollment than did ethnicity; but, the overrepresentation of students of color in SPED was still significant even after controlling for poverty. It appears, then, that some degree of interplay between individual (e.g., academic strengths and weaknesses, learning support at home) and environmental (e.g., socioeconomic conditions, teacher and societal beliefs) factors significantly contribute to placement in SPED classrooms.

Getting to the Bottom of it

So far, researchers seem to have a lot of pieces of the disproportionality puzzle in a lot of places. How do we put them all together–at least enough so that we can begin to do something about it?

To start, Oswald, Coutinho, & Best (2005) recommend a new research agenda. They advocate for disproportionality studies to focus specifically on disentangling social factors (such as systemic bias) from individual factors (such as differential susceptibility) as an underlying cause of over- or underrepresentation in SPED. [6]

These authors argue that studies should investigate whether students of certain racial or ethnic groups are differently susceptible to schooling contexts such as low-quality instruction, loose classroom management, or particular academic interventions. Under the theory of differential susceptibility, it is perhaps so that some students fare better in special education classrooms than others, making them more likely to be placed back into regular education.

They also advocate for assessment procedures that compare an individual’s performance to the performance of students of similar characteristics. For example, the achievement of a Hispanic female youth should be compared to the average performance of similar female students within their school or district (i.e., not their non-Hispanic classmates). If differential susceptibility to an aspect of the educational environment exists for some racial or ethnic minorities, assessment procedures that compare similar students may provide the most accurate depiction of an individual successes or challenges.

No Time Like the Present

It is clear that disproportionality exists within SPED. But what it less clear is why, or how to fix it. Given that it is a relatively new addition to public education, however, we can hope that the inequity currently seen in SPED may not yet be as deeply rooted as some of the challenges that regular education faces (e.g., school segregation).

Nonetheless, time is of the essence for new research! It is only with a better understanding of the roles that various factors play in SPED disproportionality that the development (and enforcement) of policy interventions can commence.

[Editor’s note: this post was written by Lindsay Clements. The initial byline, saying that it had been written by me, was incorrect. My apologies for the mistake.]

References

[1] U.S. Department of Education Office for Civil Rights (2010). Free Appropriate Public Education for Students With Disabilities: Requirements Under Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act of 1973, Washington, D.C.

[2] Parrish, T. (2005). Racial disparities in the identification, funding, and provision of Special Education. In D.J. Losen & G. Orfield (Eds.), Racial Inequity in Special Education (pp.15-37). Cambridge, MA: Harvard Education Press.

[3] McDonald, K.E., Keys, C.B., & Balcazar, F.E. (2007). Disability, race/ethnicity and gender: Themes of cultural oppression, acts of individual resistance. American Journal of Community Psychology, 39, 145-161. doi:10.1007/s10464-007-9094-3 [link]

[4] U.S. Department of Education (1997). Nineteenth annual report to Congress. Washington, DC: Author.; U.S. Department of Education (2000). Twenty-second annual report to Congress. Washington, DC: Author. 

[5] Losen, D.J. & Orfield, G. (2005). Racial inequity in special education. In D.J. Losen & G. Orfield (Eds.), Racial Inequity in Special Education (pp.xv-xxxvii). Cambridge, MA: Harvard Education Press.

[6] Oswald, D.P., Coutinho, M.J., & Best, A.L.M. (2005). Community and school predictors of overrepresentation of minority children in Special Education. In D.J. Losen & G. Orfield (Eds.), Racial Inequity in Special Education (pp.1-13). Cambridge, MA: Harvard Education Press.

[7] Garcia Ferros, E. & Conroy, J.W. (2005). Double jeopardy: An exploration of restrictiveness and race in special education. In D.J. Losen & G. Orfield (Eds.), Racial Inequity in Special Education (pp.39.70). Cambridge, MA: Harvard Education Press.

[8] Artiles, A.J., Rueda, R., Salazar, J.J. & Higareda, I. (2005). Within-group diversity in minority disproportionate representation: English language learners in urban school districts. Exceptional Children, 71(3), 283-300. [link]

[9] Harry, B., Klinger, J.K., Sturges, K.M., & Moore, R.F. (2005). Of rocks and soft places: Using qualitative methods to investigate disproportionality. In D.J. Losen & G. Orfield (Eds.), Racial Inequity in Special Education (pp.71-92). Cambridge, MA: Harvard Education Press.

[10] Reschly, D.J. (2000). IQ and Special Education: History, current status, and alternatives. Unpublished paper, National Academy of Sciences, National Research Council, Washington, DC.

[11] Strand, S., Geoff, L. (2009). Evidence of ethnic disproportionality in special education in an english population. The Journal of Special Education, 43(3), 174-190. [link]

What He Said
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

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In recent weeks, this blog has written about the dangerous assumption that students can just get all their information from The Google, and the implication that they therefore don’t need to know much factual knowledge. (Those posts are here and here.)

In yesterday’s New York Times, Daniel Willingham took up the same topic. If you don’t know Willingham’s work, a) you should, and b) this article will be a lovely introduction to his thoughtfulness and clarity.

Good News ! (?) College Profs Don’t Use the Untrue Learning Styles Theory That They Nonetheless Believe
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

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This story offers both good and bad news: I’ll let you sort out whether there’s more good than bad…

The bad news: according to a just-published study, 58% of college professors in Britain believe in learning styles theory. This belief persists despite considerable evidence showing that…well…the theory just isn’t true.

(More precisely: considerable evidence showing that the many conflicting versions of the theory don’t have good evidence to support them.)

The good-ish news: although 58% is too high, it’s also lower than other numbers found in surveys of British K-12 teachers.

The oddly good news: although many profs believe in this theory, relatively few of them do anything about it. That is, only 33% report using any specific techniques that they ascribe to learning styles theory.

In my view, that’s good news (because relatively few people are doing anything with a potentially harmful theory), but also bad news (because we want teachers to use the (correct) conclusions of learning science that they believe in).

In other words: in our ideal world, we want all teachers to KNOW what psychology and neuroscience can accurately tell us about learning–and we want them to USE that knowledge.

Learning Styles vs. Individual Differences

Paradoxically, many people believe in learning styles theory because they misunderstand it.

The theory says that we can divide people up into different groups of learners (“visual, auditory, kinesthetic” is the best-known version of the theory), and then teach those groups in ways that match their style. If we do so, they’ll learn better.

(Here’s yet another article showing the falsity of the theory.)

However, I think most people understand learning styles theory this way: “all people learn differently, and therefore I should present my content in different ways to be sure that all people can get it in their unique way.”

This theory a) is absolutely true, and b) is NOT what learning styles theory says.

Learning styles theory, again, says that we can diagnose distinct categories of learners, and teach people within those subgroups the same way.

This second theory–called “individual differences”–says that we all learn somewhat differently from each other.

There is no group of people who learn exactly the same way I do. I’m a learning style of one.

For this reason, we could “teach to a student’s learning style” only if everyone were tutored individually. Because schools teach students in groups, teachers should indeed teach all content in many different ways–so that each of us with our individual learning styles can grok these new ideas.

If I truly believed in learning styles theory, I should–instead–test all of my students to determine their style, and then sort them into distinct groups. After that sorting has happened, I should then teach each group differently; all people in each subgroup learn the same way, so they’ll learn best when I teach in that one style only.

What to Do with this Research?

Are you already teaching your content in multiple different ways? If yes, then you’re already following an individual differences theory (not learning styles theory). Keep doing what you’re doing.

If no, try to do so as much as possible. If your students don’t understand when you explain a concept one way, try drawing a picture. Or, use several analogies. Or, have a hands-on demo. Or, give several examples, and have students abstract a principle from them. Or, have students explain it to each other. Or, find a song that enacts the concept you want to explain. Or…

If you’re still a learning styles enthusiast, I suggest that you click some of the links above and see why psychologists just don’t believe the theory. You might also check out Chapter 7 of Daniel Willingham’s Why Don’t Students Like School?; as always, he does an excellent job of clarifying a complex topic.

You should also keep asking questions when you get to the next Learning and the Brain conference.  You’ll meet plenty of wise and well informed people who can distinguish between “learning styles” and “individual differences,” and contrast the evidence behind both.

Classroom Data to Enhance STEM Teaching
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

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Regular readers of this blog remember Scott MacClintic’s post about “data informed instruction”; quoting W. Edwards Deming, Scott notes that “without data, you’re just another person with an opinion.”

Of course, gathering the right kind of data can be very tricky.  What should we gather? How should we gather it?

Researchers at San Francisco State University have specific answers to both of these questions.

As they pondered STEM teaching, this research team asked some basic questions: how much classroom time is devoted to lecture, how much to pair discussion, and how much to reflective writing or clicker questions?

(The underlying goal: encourage more discussion and writing.)

To answer these questions–that is, to gather this kind of data–they developed a system that can listen to classroom sound and keep track of lecture time, discussion time, and silent working time.

We can hope a) that this system will be tested for other disciplines and other academic levels, and b) that it will be as handy as an app in the near future.

If these hopes come true, then with the click of a few buttons, we can get useful information about our own teaching practices, and fine-tune the balance of our pedagogical strategies.

(The “DART” is currently “under revision”; I don’t know when it will be back up and running.)

Until then, it’s good to know that–despite all the vexations that come with technology–it can still help us hone our craft and benefit our students.

A Future Without Grades?
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

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You think grades interfere with learning? You’d like to do away with them? And yet, you’d like some consistent way to measure students’ academic development? And to communicate that development to others?

You’re not alone.

The Mastery Transcript Consortium seeks to accomplish these very goals.

The plan itself is layered and intricate; if you’re interested, it’s worth your time to read this article from Inside Higher Ed.

At present, the plan is in its very early stages: no schools currently use it, because it doesn’t yet exist. But, having just gotten a $2 million dollar grant to develop it, the consortium is hopeful that they have launched a movement that can reshape the educational landscape.

[Full disclosure: this plan has been developed by Scott Looney, head of Hawken School outside Cleveland, OH. I myself was a lifer at Hawken, and have spoken with Mr. Looney about his plans. Although I have done some consulting work with Hawken faculty, parents, and students, I am not involved in the Mastery Transcript project.]

Once Upon a Digital Time…
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

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A recent study suggests that 3- and 4-year old children understand as much, and learn as much vocabulary from, digital books as from read-alouds with adults.

This study hasn’t been published–it was presented at a recent conference–so we can’t look at all the details with the specificity that we usually do. (And, skeptics will rightly be concerned that the research was funded by Amazon: a company that might well profit from its conclusions.)

At the same time, the description I’ve linked to sounds plausible and responsible, so I’m not inclined to dismiss this finding out of hand.

The authors’ conclusions conflict with some other findings in related fields. You may remember a recent blog post discussing Daniel Willingham’s conclusion that, on the whole, students learn more from books than from e-readers.

I’ve also been interested in a study by Ackerman and Goldsmith showing that students regulate their learning better with books than e-readers.

But the current study isn’t about college students trying to learn from books; it’s about pre-readers trying to follow a story that’s being read to them. In this one paradigm, the researchers have found that the right kind of e-book can do the job as well as the right kind of adult.

 

The Science of Creativity
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

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In this 20 minute video,  James Kaufman explains how researchers define creativity, and how they measure it.

He also discusses the limitations on both the definitions and the measurements.

(Note, too, the dexterous water-bottle management.)

Although he title of this video is “What Can Neuroscience Offer the Study of Creativity?”, the presentation focuses entirely on psychology: that is, the behavior of the creative mind, not the physical make-up of the creating brain. I’m hoping that subsequent videos explore neuroscience in greater depth.

Thinking Critically about Teaching Critical Thinking
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

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A friend recently referred me to this online article (at bigthink.com) about this research study: the eye-catching phrase in both headlines being “Teaching Critical Thinking.”

(The online article is even more emphatic: “Study: There Are Instructions for Teaching Critical Thinking.”)

This headline sounds like great news. We can do it! Just follow the instructions!

We should, of course, be delighted to learn that we can teach critical thinking. So often, especially in upper grades, schools emphasize teaching “not what to think, but how to think.”

Every time we say that, we are—in effect—claiming to be teaching critical thinking.

The author of the BigThink article summarizes the societal importance of critical thinking this way:

We live in an age with unprecedented access to information. Whether you are contributing to an entry on Wikipedia or reading a meme that has no sources cited (do they ever?), your ability to comprehend what you are reading and weigh it is a constant and consistent need. That is why it is so imperative that we have sharp critical-thinking skills.

Clearly, students need such skills. Clearly we should teach them.

It Can Be Taught!

The study itself, authored by N. G. Holmes and published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Arts and Sciences, follows students in a college physics course. The course explicitly introduced its students to a process for thinking critically about scientific data; it emphasized the importance of this process by grading students on their early attempts to use it.

For example (this excerpt, although complex, is worth reading closely):

“students were shown weighted χ2 calculations for least squares fitting of data to models and then were given a decision tree for interpreting the outcome. If students obtain a low χ2, they would decide whether it means their data are in good agreement with the model or whether it means they have overestimated their uncertainties.”

Early in the course, the instructors often reminded the students to use this process. By term’s end, however, those instructions had been faded, so the students who continued to use it did so on their own.

The results?

Many students who had been taught this analytical process continued to use it. In fact, many of them continued to use it the following year in another course taught by a different professor.

In other words: they had been taught critical thinking skills, and they learned critical thinking skills.

Success!

It Can Be Taught?

Sadly, this exciting news looks less and less promising the more we consider it.

In the first place, despite the title of his article, Holmes doesn’t even claim to be teaching critical thinking. He claims to be teaching “quantitative critical thinking,” or the ability “to think critically about scientific data and models [my emphasis].”

Doubtless our students need this valuable subset of critical thinking skills. And yet, our students think about many topics that defy easy quantification.

If we want our students to think critically about a Phillis Wheatley poem, or about the development of the Silk Road, or about the use of gerundives, we will quickly recognize they need a meaningfully different set of critical thinking skills.

How, for example, would a student use “weighted χ2 calculations for least squares fitting of data” to compare the Articles of Confederation with the Constitution of the United States?

To return to the examples offered in BigThink’s enthusiastic paragraph: despite this author’s enthusiasm, it’s not at all certain this procedure for analyzing “scientific data and models” will help us update a Wikipedia entry, or critique an unsourced meme.

(It might, but—unless we’re editing a very particular kind of Wikipedia entry, or reading a very statistical meme—it probably won’t.)

In brief: ironically, the headlines implying that we can “teach critical thinking” generally do not stand up to critical thought.

The Bigger Picture

Cognitive scientists, in fact, regularly doubt the possibility of teaching a general set of critical thinking skills. And here’s one big reason why:

Different disciplines require different kinds of critical thought.

Critical thinking in evolutionary biology requires different skills than critical thinking in comparative theology.

The field I’m in uses psychology and neuroscience research to inform teaching; hard experience has taught me that the fields of psychology and neuroscience demand very different critical thinking skills from their practitioners.

Perhaps your own teaching experience reveals the same pattern:

The English department where I taught included some of the sharpest minds I know: people who can parse a sonnet or map a literary genre with giddy dexterity. Their critical thinking skills in the world of English literature can’t be questioned.

And yet, many of these same people have told me quite emphatically that they are hopeless at, say, math. Or, chemistry. Or, doing their taxes. Being good critical thinkers in one discipline has not made them successful at critical thought in others.

Chapter 2 of Daniel Willingham’s Why Don’t Students Like School explores this argument at greater length.

The Smaller Picture

There’s a second reason that it’s hard to teach general critical thinking skills: knowledge of details.

To think critically about any topic, we need to know a very substantial amount of discipline-specific factual information. Finding those facts on the interwebs isn’t enough; we need to know them cold—have them comfortably housed in long-term memory.

For example: to use Holmes’s critical thinking technique, you would need to know what “weighted χ2 calculations for least squares fitting of data” actually are.

Even more: you’d need to know how to calculate them.

If you don’t have that very specific kind of detailed knowledge, you’re just out of luck. You can’t think critically in his world.

Another example. Much chess expertise comes from playing lots and lots of chess. As Chase and Simon’s famous study has shown, chess experts literally see chess boards differently than do chess novices.

You really can’t think like a chess expert (that is, you can’t engage in critical chess thinking) until you can see like a chess expert; and, seeing like a chess expert takes years. You need to accumulate substantial amounts of specific information—the Loomis gambit, the Concord defense—to make sense of the chessboard world.

Your own teaching experience almost certainly underlines this conclusion. Let me explain:

How often does it happen that someone learns you’re a teacher, and promptly offers you some heartfelt advice on teaching your students more effectively? (“I saw this AMAZING video on Facebook about the most INSPIRING teacher…”) How often is that advice, in fact, even remotely useful?

And yet, here’s the surprise: the person offering you this well-meaning advice is almost certainly an expect in her field. She’s an accomplished doctor, or financial adviser, or geologist, or jurist. In her field, she could out-critical-think you with most of her prefrontal cortex tied behind her occipital lobe.

Unfortunately, her critical thinking skills in that field don’t transfer to our field, because critical thinking in our field requires a vast amount of very specific teaching knowledge.

(By the way: twice now this post has assumed you’re a teacher. If you’re not, insert the name of your profession or expertise in the place of “teacher.” The point will almost certainly hold.)

Wishing and Thinking, not Wishful Thinking

As so often happens, I feel a bit like a grinch as I write this article. Once again, I find myself reading news I ought to find so very exciting, and instead finding it unsupported by research.

Truthfully, I wish we could teach critical thinking skills in general. If you’ve got a system for doing so, I genuinely hope you’ll let me know. (Inbox me: [email protected])

Even better: if you’ve got research that shows it works, I’ll dance a jig through Somerville.

But the goal of this organization—and the goal of Mind, Brain, and Education—is to improve psychology, neuroscience, and pedagogy by having these disciplines talk with each other deeply and knowledgeably.

And with that deep knowledge—with critical thinking skills honed by scientific research—we know that critical thinking skills must be taught discipline by discipline; and, they must be honed through extensive and specific practice.

This task might sound less grand than “teaching critical thinking skills.” And yet, by focusing not on lofty impossibilities, but on very realistic goals, we can indeed accomplish them—one discipline at a time.

Promoting STEM for Women by Requiring More High School Math. Or, not.
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

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How can we encourage young women to pursue STEM fields?

In the German state of Baden-Württemberg, school leaders tried a substantial reform: they increased the math requirement during the final two years of high school. Instead of taking math three days a week, all students had to take math four days a week.

What were the results of increasing the math requirement by 1/3 for 2 years? (That sentence sounds like a word problem, no?)

A mixed bag.

The good news: this reform reduced the gap between male and female achievement scores in math. On the surface, in other words, it seems young women learned more.

This result should be very exciting. However…

The so-so news: this additional math work did very little to increase women’s participation in STEM fields in college. Instead, it increased the STEM interest of male college students–the enrollment gap remained about the same.

And, the bad news: although the women learned more math, they felt worse about their own math abilities.

The reason for this last result isn’t clear — the author’s hypothesis honestly sounds a little convoluted to me.

But, given the size of the data pool behind this study, the conclusion seems clear: requiring more math may boost math learning, but — for women — it’s not sufficient to boost math confidence and interest in STEM fields.

At a minimum, the study suggests that we should think not only about how much math students learn, but how they learn it.

A further point: I don’t know how the math curriculum in a typical Baden-Württemberg high school compares to that of a school in the US. Before we try this intervention, we should (again) think not only about how much math students learn, but what math they learn.

 

Don’t Take the Bait
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

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Some days I wonder if I have linked to too many articles debunking claims about “brain training games.” Invariably, as soon as this thought crosses my mind, I hear another advertisement for Lumosity, and I realize that I haven’t linked to debunking articles often enough.

So, as my public service for today, here’s another study that makes this point:

People who practiced games that were supposed to improve working memory got better at the games, but they didn’t get better at other working memory tasks.

Put another way: you might decide to spend $15 a month for the fun of playing such games. But, don’t do so because you think they’ll help your cognitive functioning. So far, we just don’t have good evidence that they do.

(Just as a reminder: Lumosity was fined $ 2,000,000 for deceptive advertising.)