College and Career Ready E-Book

David T. Conley

• Herausgeber: John Wiley & Sons
• Kategorie: Bildung
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 549

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2010

Beschreibung

Giving students the tools they need to succeed in college and work College and Career Ready offers educators a blueprint for improving high school so that more students are able to excel in freshman-level college courses or entry-level jobs-laying a solid foundation for lifelong growth and success. The book is filled with detailed, practical guidelines and case descriptions of what the best high schools are doing. * Includes clear guidelines for high school faculty to adapt their programs of instruction in the direction of enhanced college/career readiness * Provides practical strategies for improving students' content knowledge and academic behaviors * Offers examples of best practices and research-based recommendations for change The book considers the impact of behavioral issues-such as time management and study habits-as well as academic skills on college readiness.

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Preface

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Introduction

SHOULD AND CAN TODAY’S HIGH SCHOOLS PREPARE ALL STUDENTS FOR COLLEGE AND CAREERS?

COLLEGE READY AND WORK READY: ONE AND THE SAME?

THE NEW CHALLENGE

WHAT WE MEAN BY “READY FOR COLLEGE AND CAREERS”

Part One - Redefining College and Career Readiness

CHAPTER 1 - The Four Key Dimensions of College and Career Readiness

GENERAL ELEMENTS OF A MORE COMPREHENSIVE DEFINITION OF COLLEGE AND CAREER READINESS

CURRENT MEANS TO DETERMINE COLLEGE AND CAREER READINESS

AN EXAMINATION OF THE FOUR DIMENSIONS OF COLLEGE AND CAREER READINESS

DIFFERENCES BETWEEN HIGH SCHOOL AND COLLEGE COURSES

OPERATIONAL EXAMPLES OF COLLEGE READINESS

CHAPTER 2 - Ways to Develop Key Cognitive Strategies and Key Content Knowledge

FOCUSING ON THE “BIG IDEAS”

ALIGNING COURSES AND EXPECTATIONS BETWEEN HIGH SCHOOL AND COLLEGE

FORMATIVE ASSESSMENT FOR COLLEGE READINESS

CHAPTER 3 - Ways to Develop Self-Management Skills and “College Knowledge”

ELEMENTS OF SELF-MANAGEMENT

“COLLEGE KNOWLEDGE”-CONTEXTUAL SKILLS AND AWARENESS

CHAPTER 4 - Key Principles of College and Career Readiness

PRINCIPLE 1: CREATE AND MAINTAIN A COLLEGE-GOING CULTURE IN THE SCHOOL

PRINCIPLE 2: CREATE A CORE ACADEMIC PROGRAM ALIGNED WITH AND LEADING TO COLLEGE ...

PRINCIPLE 3: TEACH KEY SELF-MANAGEMENT SKILLS AND ACADEMIC BEHAVIORS AND EXPECT ...

PRINCIPLE 4: MAKE COLLEGE AND CAREERS REAL BY HELPING STUDENTS MANAGE THE ...

PRINCIPLE 5: CREATE ASSIGNMENTS AND GRADING POLICIES THAT MORE CLOSELY ...

PRINCIPLE 6: MAKE THE SENIOR YEAR MEANINGFUL AND APPROPRIATELY CHALLENGING

PRINCIPLE 7: BUILD PARTNERSHIPS WITH AND CONNECTIONS TO POSTSECONDARY PROGRAMS ...

CHAPTER 5 - Case Studies of Schools That Succeed

ALTERNATIVE SCHOOL: UNIVERSITY PARK CAMPUS SCHOOL, WORCESTER, MASSACHUSETTS

MAGNET SCHOOL: FENWAY HIGH SCHOOL, BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS

COMPREHENSIVE HIGH SCHOOL: CHERRY CREEK HIGH SCHOOL, GREENWOOD VILLAGE, COLORADO

CHARTER SCHOOL: MINNESOTA NEW COUNTRY SCHOOL, HENDERSON, MINNESOTA

EARLY COLLEGE HIGH SCHOOL: MANHATTAN HUNTER SCIENCE HIGH SCHOOL, NEW YORK, NEW YORK

COMPREHENSIVE HIGH SCHOOL: GARLAND HIGH SCHOOL, GARLAND, TEXAS

MAGNET SCHOOL: POLYTECH HIGH SCHOOL, WOODSIDE, DELAWARE

PRIVATE SCHOOL: CRISTO REY JESUIT HIGH SCHOOL, CHICAGO, ILLINOIS

CHAPTER 6 - Putting It All Together

DEVELOP A PROFILE OF THE SCHOOL’S COLLEGE READINESS CAPACITY

IDENTIFY OUTCOME MEASURES OF SUCCESS

ASSESS THE DISTRICT CAPACITY TO SUPPORT IMPROVEMENTS

INSTITUTE SPECIFIC PROGRAMS TO ADDRESS THE FOUR DIMENSIONS OF COLLEGE AND ...

INSTITUTE PROFESSIONAL DEVELOPMENT TO SUPPORT COLLEGE READINESS

RECOGNIZE THE IMPORTANCE OF CULTURE AND CHANGE CULTURE

GAUGE THE PROGRESS OF CHANGES IN THE HIGH SCHOOL

WHAT ARE THE EFFECTS ON STUDENT PERFORMANCE IN COLLEGE?

Part Two - Steps on the Road to Readiness

CHAPTER 7 - Steps High Schools Are Taking to Make More Students College and ...

SMALL SCHOOLS AND HIGH SCHOOL CONVERSIONS

CAREER ACADEMIES

ADVANCED PLACEMENT AND INTERNATIONAL BACCALAUREATE PROGRAMS

EARLY COLLEGE HIGH SCHOOLS

DUAL CREDIT

LEARNING FROM THE NEW MODELS

CHAPTER 8 - Steps States Are Taking to Make More Students College and Career Ready

STATE ACTIONS TO DATE

EXAMPLES OF STATE ACTIONS

STATE COLLEGE READINESS STANDARDS: THE EXAMPLE OF TEXAS

CLEAR MESSAGES STATES CAN SEND TO THE SECONDARY SYSTEM

CLEAR MESSAGES STATES CAN SEND TO THEIR POSTSECONDARY SYSTEMS

CONCLUDING OBSERVATIONS

Afterword

Appendix A - Two Examples of Tasks That Develop and Assess Key Cognitive Strategies

Appendix B - Example Items from the School Diagnostic

Appendix C - Resource List

Index

ALSO BY DAVID T. CONLEY

Copyright © 2010 by David T. Conley. All rights reserved.

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Conley, David T., 1948-

p. cm.

Includes index.

eISBN : 978-0-470-59326-4

1. Universities and colleges. 2. Education, Higher—United States—Evaluation. 3. College graduates—Employment. 4. School-to-work transition. I. Title.

LB2822.82.C667 2010

371.2’270973—dc22

2009037350

HB Printing

To Herb Kohl, my inspiration to become a writer; to Dave and Vera Mae Fredrickson, my mentors and role models; and to John and Jaye Zola, who challenge us all to be better educators.

Preface

I am the first in my family to go to college. My maternal grandparents came from southern Italy at the turn of the twentieth century and settled in Toledo, Ohio, where my grandfather became a house painter and my grandmother raised nine children. My paternal grandparents were born and raised in central Ohio and lived much of their adult lives in Toledo as well. My grandfather was a machinist for the railroad, my grandmother a housewife. I am not certain of the level of formal education my grandparents attained (this was not a topic discussed in my family), but I’ m pretty sure no one finished high school.

My own parents did complete high school but were unable to go on to college. My mother was midway in birth order through the nine children in her family and was needed to help raise the younger children. My father, who graduated at the height of the Great Depression, took on a series of blue-collar jobs and then went into the army shortly before December 7, 1941. After the war, when they married and began their baby boom family, my parents both worked steadily but did not cultivate careers. My father, using his army experience as a starting point, was lucky to get a job after the war as a warehouseman, a position that was followed by a succession of positions that required little or no formal training or certification. After my brother and I began school, my mother got her real estate license and began selling tract homes in the rapidly growing Santa Clara Valley in California, now known more commonly as Silicon Valley.

We were able to live a comfortable life in a succession of what appeared to me at the time to be nice middle-class neighborhoods, in part because such neighborhoods were still possibilities for a family with one solid blue-collar income and a supplementary secondary income. The differences between my family and those of my friends, many of whose fathers worked at the newly opened IBM plant down the valley, were never readily apparent. As far as I knew, I was just another middle-class kid. My parents’ occupations and education levels did not mark me in any discernable way.

My brother and I attended reasonably good schools, many of which were brand new when we attended them due to the influx of baby boom children. Partly because I am a good test taker, I was always placed in the highest groups at each grade level in these schools, which always seemed to have well-defined tracks. School came easily to me, and it never seemed very difficult to do well in class.

Although the warning signs were clearly there in middle school, it wasn’t until high school that trouble began in earnest. My freshman year saw the beginning of a series of bad decisions and choices on my part and by those around me. I ran with a crowd a bit older and quite a bit rowdier than I had in elementary school. In my ability-tracked high school, I was placed initially into the top track, while my friends all ended up in the middle or bottom track. Needless to say, this was distressing to a young person who was most interested in hanging out with friends.

My solution, after getting kicked out of a few classes for correcting teachers, interjecting my version of clever remarks and observations, and generally exhibiting what was listed on my record as “defiant behavior,” was to march into my counselor’s office and demand that I be placed in a lower academic track. Mind you, I was initiating this, not the school. My counselor, a mild-mannered man and by all indications a good person and citizen (he served on the local city council), barely missed a beat in agreeing with me and then reworking my schedule, with copious input on my part, to get me into classes with most of my friends. In his defense, he did give me the obligatory speech about being able to perform at a higher level if I would only work up to my potential, which, he said, was very high, but that whole line of reasoning meant little to me. I had no idea what my potential was, let alone what I would have to do to work up to it.

To say I was crushingly bored in the middle-level track would be an understatement, but I amused myself by helping my friends, many of whom were a grade ahead and had already flunked the class in question at least once. It wasn’t until a chance encounter during lunch in the second term of my sophomore year, when progress reports had been issued to all students, that an event took place that caused me to question myself and the whole situation into which I had gotten. My social group prided itself in doing as poorly as possible in school, and as each person showed up at lunch with his progress report (yes, all guys), he announced the number of Fs he had received. Each announcement was made with a combination of pride, amusement, and defiance.

I remember one young man enthusiastically exclaiming that he had five Fs. His bravado elicited a rejoinder by someone in the group who suggested this might be the result of his not being very bright (I’ m rephrasing the exact language used to express this sentiment). The young man replied somewhat indignantly, “Hey, I could get all A’s if I wanted to; I’ m just not working up to my potential.” Well, that sounded very familiar to me, so I asked him, “Who told you that?” “My counselor,” he replied.

And then I knew the terrible secret. The counselors must be telling everyone that they could do well if they only worked up to their potential. This sent a chill down my spine. Could I do better, or was my assortment of Cs, Ds, and Fs a reflection of the fact that I really wasn’t so bright after all? Being the quintessential Type A personality underneath it all and extremely competitive even when no one was really competing with me, I resolved to get straight As the next term just to see if I could do it.

I wouldn’t be writing this if I hadn’t been able to do so, but that’s not the end of the story and not really the point. Getting good grades in the middle academic track is not a tremendous accomplishment and not enough to prepare a student for college who would be first in his family to go beyond high school. My parents certainly supported and valued education, but they were not at all clear about what specifically I should be doing to prepare for life beyond high school or, for that matter, what they should be doing to help me. College would be a good thing, they both agreed, and I was always encouraged to consider it.

But what did that mean? In the crowd I ran with, no one was preparing to go to college (in fact, almost no one in my crowd went beyond high school). Counselors were people to see only if you wanted something, say, to get lunch period changed to, you guessed it, hang out with friends. The administration considered me vexing and would have liked to have gotten rid of me (and tried to do so a couple of times). My teachers were all very well intentioned, and I think they did the best they could, but none of them seemed to have a handle on what I should do beyond completing their classes successfully—and not giving them too hard a time in the process. I wish I could say I had that one teacher who took the time to set me straight and inspire me to reach my potential, but I didn’t. I did have a Spanish teacher who had, he said, been a Formula 1 race car driver, and he had lots of good tales to tell (unfortunately all in English), but that’s another story altogether.

I did get the word that there was this thing called the SAT and that you needed to sign up to take it, and that it was given on a Saturday, if you could believe it, at 8 o’clock in the morning. So I signed up, and that was about it. I had no preparation whatsoever, and apparently I forgot to set my alarm clock on the night before the test was to be given. My mother was gone for that weekend, so it fell on my father to be in charge of the kids. Waking me up for the SATs was apparently not on his list of responsibilities, so I slept until 7:55, when I just happened to look over at the clock through drowsy eyes. It didn’t take me long to realize I wasn’t going to be able to get dressed and drive to the test site in five minutes, so I rolled over and went back to sleep. That was the last we heard about the SAT.

This small logistical error ended up being much more important when, during my senior year, I considered, however briefly, my post-high school options, of which there were few that I found attractive. Not wanting to make a career of my part-time job at a local gas station or to enter the military at that time, I saw community college as basically my only other choice. In my case, “choice” meant doing nothing before showing up the first day of fall classes to register. Enrolling in what was left of the courses, I managed somehow to end up in the Associate of Arts baccalaureate transfer program, a stroke of luck for which I have no direct explanation or attribution. The transfer program gave me some much-needed structure because I had fewer chances to continue making bad decisions. I had only to complete a designated set of requirements and would be eligible for admission to the state’s four-year universities. In California, this included the University of California at Berkeley. Was it possible that someone with my rather meager academic credentials and lack of foresight would be able to be admitted and graduate four years later, after a total of six years in postsecondary education, from one of the top universities in the nation? As it turned out, the answer was yes.

I will be forever grateful to Clark Kerr, the author of California’s Master Plan for Higher Education. That plan, which envisioned a multitiered postsecondary system, allowed students the opportunity to truly reach their full potential by being able to have a second chance that led to higher education. It gave me the opportunity to make up for the many missteps I had made throughout high school (I have chronicled only a few of them here). California policymakers at the time believed that a college-educated citizenry paid dividends to the community, state, and nation, and I hope I have been able to repay the faith of those visionaries in some small way throughout my postbaccalaureate career.

I am one of the few from my high school who somehow navigated the high school-to-college transition, however poorly and inefficiently. My concern, and the reason to some degree that I conduct the research I do and that I wrote this book, is that many, many young people are still allowed to make the same mistakes I did. An ever-increasing number will not have the second chance I had. Those who do often find it much more difficult now to make a successful transition to postsecondary education and complete a college program of study.

These young people will be affected much more than my grandparents, parents, or even my cohort by not being able to achieve their full educational potential. The world they are entering is far less forgiving of someone without high levels of formal education, certificates, and degrees, not just experience. It is incumbent on those of us who are able to do so to change the system so that secondary students cannot make bad decisions and have every opportunity to achieve their potential, whether or not they fully understand what that potential is.

Acknowledgments

This book contains findings accumulated over a long period of time and to which many people have contributed, directly or indirectly. My research in the area of college readiness began in earnest in 1994 with the adoption by the Oregon Board of Higher Education of the Proficiency-based Admission Standards System (PASS), which I directed and was one of the first systems designed to admit students to college based on demonstrated proficiency rather than grades from required high school courses. Many great people were part of the success of PASS, including Shirley Clark, Christine Tell, Mark Endsley, Rick Dills, Bob Olsen, Lynda Rose, Anne Stephens, Robert Roberts, Cecelia Hagen, and Bob Brownbridge.

The work done on PASS led eventually to the Standards for Success project, sponsored by the Association of American Universities and the Pew Charitable Trusts, which produced one of the first and most comprehensive sets of college readiness standards in the United States. Of the multitude of people who contributed to the success of that project, several stand out, among them Terri Ward, April Smith, Amy Radochonski, Shauna Handrahan, Ron Latanision, Kathy Bailey Mathae, Andrea Venezia, Mike Kirst, and Rich Brown.

Standards for Success led to the foundation of the Center for Educational Policy Research (CEPR) and then the Educational Policy Improvement Center (EPIC). These centers have been blessed with a profusion of talented people, to all of whom I owe a debt of gratitude. I mention here only a few of the original group that worked on some of the initial research studies: Katharine Gallagher, Holly Langan, Kirsten Aspengren, Odile Stout, Gretchen Bredeson, Tim Meredith, and Tris O’Shaughnessy.

I want to acknowledge individually one colleague, no longer with us, who helped and inspired me in many ways over the past decade. Mike Riley was a true educational leader and visionary. He sought me out early in the Standards for Success project when he was a superintendent of the Bellevue, Washington, schools, long before the standards had received prominent attention. From that point on, we began a collaboration that continued until his passing and helped influence my thinking on the issue of college readiness. He was a wonderful collaborator and a true friend, and I miss him almost daily.

To this book in particular, several people have contributed in a variety of ways. Mary Martinez-Wenzl, along with a number of colleagues including Kathryn Rooney, assembled the school profiles featured in Chapter Five. They, along with Adrienne van der Valk, identified some of the examples that I use to help illustrate the key principles contained in Chapter Four. Lindsay Bradley helped proof the manuscript and, more important, helped keep me on track, focused, and productive. Andrea Venezia and Sheri Ranis read early versions of the manuscript and provided helpful feedback and suggestions. Support for the original paper in which the four dimensions of college readiness described in Chapter One were first presented and for the research on the schools described in Chapters Four and Five was provided by the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation.

As with my other Jossey-Bass book, I am in debt to my editor, Lesley Iura, who works with a light touch and communicates a great deal in a few words. She and her team have been patient and supportive as I have struggled to complete what became an evolving piece of work. I also want to extend special thanks to the three external reviewers contracted by Jossey-Bass to review the draft manuscript. I hope they will be able to see the many changes I have implemented in response to the multiple issues they raised and suggestions they made.

Finally, let me be sure to acknowledge the one person without whom I would not have been able to accomplish any of this. Thanks, Judy.

About the Author

David T. Conley is professor of educational policy and leadership and founder and director of the Center for Educational Policy Research (CEPR), both at the University of Oregon, and founder and chief executive officer of the Educational Policy Improvement Center (EPIC) in Eugene, Oregon. These centers conduct research on a range of topics related to college readiness and other key policy issues through grants and contracts with a range of national organizations, states, school districts, and school networks. This line of inquiry focuses on what it takes for students to succeed in postsecondary education. His preceding book, College Knowledge: What It Really Takes for Students to Succeed and What We Can Do to Get Them Ready, outlines how high schools can help students succeed in entry-level university courses. He received his B.A. from the University of California, Berkeley, and master’s and doctoral degrees from the University of Colorado, Boulder. Before joining the University of Oregon faculty, he spent twenty years in public education as a teacher, building level and central office administrator, and state education department executive.

Introduction

College and career readiness for all students seems to be an idea whose time has come. At the federal level, in state legislatures and school districts, and in an increasing number of high schools, the focus of improvement is on preparing more students to pursue learning beyond high school, generally in a postsecondary education environment. Although the idea that high schools should prepare students for college and careers is hardly novel, what is new is the notion that essentially all students should be capable of pursuing formal learning opportunities beyond high school. This is a radical departure from the comprehensive high school model that was designed to funnel students into tracks that led to very different futures and potential careers—some that required additional education and many others that did not.

SHOULD AND CAN TODAY’S HIGH SCHOOLS PREPARE ALL STUDENTS FOR COLLEGE AND CAREERS?

Should all students be prepared to go to a four-year or two-year college? This straightforward yet potentially volatile question yields strong emotional reactions from high school educators, parents, and business leaders throughout the country. Although no one wants to be accused of closing off opportunities to young people, many educators observe that their students do not seem interested in doing the work necessary to be ready for postsecondary studies. Perhaps it makes more sense to help these students prepare for productive lives in endeavors that may not necessarily require education beyond a high school diploma.

The dilemma that this point of view highlights is that a choice is being made about a student’s life and future. We expect students to make conscious choices whether to pursue college eligibility early in high school, essentially at age fourteen or fifteen. Those who do not choose courses wisely in their freshman and sophomore years find it difficult, even impossible, to be eligible for many colleges. Students make these choices with little guidance from adults and even less awareness of the long-term consequences of these choices. The real underlying issue is whether a decision of this nature should be left solely or primarily to students in the first place and whether the adults really know enough about student potential and capabilities to make such choices for them.

This does not necessarily mean all students should be compelled to pursue a single educational pathway, although a strong case can be made for a set of common core expectations for all students. The question is whether high school programs can be designed in a way that no matter what decision a student makes, the result will be that the student is eligible to pursue a two- or four-year program of postsecondary study and will be likely to succeed in such a program.

Throughout most of the twentieth century, the American high school was carefully and systematically designed to offer students a range of equally valuable choices (the more idealistic spin) or to track students into distinctly different futures (the more cynical spin). The fundamental assumption of the comprehensive high school model, the backbone of the twentieth-century American secondary school, is that students have different interests and abilities and that high schools should offer a range of programs in response to these differences. Students then make intelligent choices guided by an enlightened sense of self-interest and an understanding of who they are and what they want to become.

Unfortunately, the model never quite worked this way, or, more precisely, it worked this way for only a select subset of secondary students. Many young people were just as likely to build their schedules and make their class choices based on what time lunch was served or which classes their friends were taking as they were to use the opportunity to explore interests or pursue carefully considered goals.

A more serious flaw with the model was the tendency for entire groups of students within high schools to be assigned to particular programs. This led to self-fulfilling expectations about the capabilities and interests of these different groups of students. These groupings over time came to comprise students of the same race and ethnicity, income, or gender. Once assigned to a program of study, it was the rare student who could cross the lines to a different program, particularly when crossing the line meant joining a program composed of students with different demographic characteristics. Sometimes this occurred as a result of overt tracking, but just as often, the tracks emerged based on other factors, such as the availability of “singleton” courses that then drove all students needing that course to be grouped into several other courses together as well.

This system worked in the sense that few viewed it as seriously flawed, largely because the economy and society accommodated the output of these tracked high schools reasonably well. Young people had sufficient opportunity, and even those who left high school with minimal academic skills could look forward to some limited upward social mobility without additional formal education.

Today that dream is disappearing, with little likelihood of returning. The economic and political forces behind this change are familiar to all. The implications of a global knowledge economy appear almost constantly in the media and in daily dealings, for example. Evidence of the transformation of the U.S. economy is everywhere to be seen. Not everyone is happy with these changes, but few deny they are occurring or that they are significant.

The problem is that today’s high school diploma qualifies students only for jobs that do not require what we like to think of as a high school education. This is testament to how low public expectations for the diploma have fallen and how bifurcated the job market has become. No one seems to assume that a high school graduate is particularly well educated. The hope is that the graduate can read and write at a rudimentary level or, lacking those skills, will at least show up for work on time, follow directions, and not take drugs.

The jobs open to those with a diploma are only marginally better than those available to individuals without one. In fact, many employers view the diploma more as a measure of social compliance than academic skills: the student followed the rules well enough to stay in school and graduate, which is very desirable from an employer’s point of view, particularly for low-level jobs. But it is not a resounding endorsement of the skills of such an applicant.

While many, perhaps most, high school graduates certainly exceed these minimal expectations, many do not. More important, we have no real way to know the minimal level of skill that all diploma recipients have attained. State exit exams offer some clues, but many are given at the tenth grade and measure middle school-level academic content. In those cases, we know that high school graduates are capable at least of eighth-grade work. It’s no surprise that a high school diploma is not a particularly good measure of college and career readiness.

COLLEGE READY AND WORK READY: ONE AND THE SAME?

One of the great debates taking shape nationally, in states, and even within high schools is not only the degree to which college readiness and work readiness are similar, but also the specific ways they are the same or different. This distinction was embedded into U.S. high schools during the early twentieth century when vocational education programs were introduced on a wide scale. Students needed to make a choice whether to pursue an academic or vocational future. In fact, large urban districts had high schools that were devoted entirely to vocational programs and drew students from across a city to receive highly specialized training in well-equipped settings.

In the intervening century, the U.S. economy has transformed from manufacturing to service and knowledge work. In addition, the range of jobs and industries has mushroomed. It is no longer possible to teach students a specific set of technical skills that prepares them for a wide range of jobs. Increasingly, that responsibility has fallen to the nation’s community colleges and employer-sponsored on-the-job training programs.

The question then becomes: Is there a broader, more foundational set of knowledge and skills that spans school and work, and, if so, can this be taught to all students? For those advocating higher expectations for all students, an affirmative answer to this question would be convenient, because it would be possible to devise one set of standards and assessments for all students and one program of study for all.

In fact, a great deal of evidence does point in the direction that students can and should develop a core set of skills and knowledge and that this set of skills will transfer well across a range of postsecondary and workforce settings. These are sometimes described as soft skills and include attributes such as the ability to work independently and as a member of a team, follow directions, formulate and solve problems, learn continuously, analyze information, have personal goals, take responsibility for one’s actions, demonstrate leadership as appropriate, take initiative and direct one’s own actions within an organizational context, and have a perspective on one’s place within an organization and in society.

To these soft skills are added academic competencies and capabilities that include the ability to communicate in writing; listen well; read technical documents; use mathematical understandings to interpret data and formulate and solve problems; develop understandings of scientific concepts, principles, rules, laws, and methods to develop greater understandings of the natural world and apply those understandings in a variety of ways; comprehend social systems and historical frameworks in order to provide perspective on activities undertaken in today’s society; speak a second language and understand better the culture associated with that language as a result of learning the language; and develop aesthetic sensitivities, appreciation, and skills in order to engage in artistic pursuits and integrations of aesthetic elements into other areas.

The challenge educators face when trying to unify the two concepts is that they must sort out what is distinctive and what is common between the two concepts of college and work readiness. A helpful first step in addressing this challenge is to think in terms of postsecondary readiness, not college admission, and in terms of career readiness in place of work preparedness. These two distinctions are not merely semantic in nature. Thinking about postsecondary readiness opens the door to the myriad certificate programs at community colleges and a range of formal training programs that are offered after high school. Students will still need high skill levels to participate in these programs, along with a set of work habits and self-knowledge not much different from what is required of a student bound for a baccalaureate program.

Similarly, focusing on career readiness in place of work preparedness opens the door to setting standards for all students at a level that would enable them to proceed on a career pathway, not just be trained to get a job. Career readiness skills are at a level that would enable the student to qualify for and be capable of eventually moving beyond an entry-level position within a career cluster. It encompasses the ability to select an occupation that does in fact have a career pathway associated with it rather than simply taking the first job that comes along. For most career pathways, the requisite knowledge and skill requirements are highly compatible with the soft skills and core content knowledge referred to above.

In short, it is possible to conceive of a high school program that prepares all students for postsecondary learning opportunities and career pathways and not require students to make a choice between pursuing additional learning and not doing so. However, it can be devilishly difficult to create and put into practice a program of study that fully reflects this model. The foundation of U.S. high schools, as noted, is based on students’ choosing between educational programs that lead to different futures or having the choice made for them by adults. Creating a true core program that embraces a common set of high expectations tied to academic performance will be difficult indeed for many high schools.

THE NEW CHALLENGE

Given the tremendous variance in the academic skills of high school graduates, it is no surprise that many struggle academically when they seek to advance their education beyond high school. Some are lucky enough to have completed a technical program that has trained them for an occupation, but they will not be able to advance very far along a career pathway in their field without the capacity to continue learning and acquiring skills. And they will not be well equipped to change occupations should economic conditions require them to do so. As adults, they will struggle with any type of training that requires reading, writing, mathematics, or thinking skills such as complex problem solving, analysis, interpretation, reasoning, and, in many cases, persistence.

Some who enter the workforce immediately after graduation may try to resume their education at a later date, only to confront the reality that they must begin by taking multiple remedial courses before they can progress toward their goal, be it a technical certificate or a bachelor’s degree. In addition to lacking core academic knowledge, they may find that they do not know how to learn: they lack the ability to focus; organize their thoughts; process anything more complex than simple, unambiguous problems; structure their time to study; and persevere when faced with a difficult academic task.

The new reality is that students need a program that integrates high academic challenge with the exploration of a range of career options and opportunities. All students need to reach high levels of achievement and have opportunities to apply the knowledge and skills they are learning and mastering in relevant real-world settings. The challenge is to design high schools in ways that ensure that their instructional programs are doing one thing exceedingly well: focusing on a core set of knowledge and skills and then ensuring that all students have the opportunity to master the core at a level sufficient to enable them to continue learning beyond high school.

Selecting the core knowledge and skills is a critical first step because it requires that the faculty in the school agree on what is important for all students to know and be able to do. This common frame of reference then serves as the space within which high-quality, challenging programs are developed and implemented for all students. Such programs should be highly engaging and appealing, allowing students to apply learning in real-world contexts and to learn through a variety of interactive modes. The core learnings need not be abstract in a traditionally academic way, but they must be carefully calibrated to develop key knowledge and skills. They cannot be diluted for some groups of students under the guise of making them relevant or applied.

Change of this nature will be difficult for schools accustomed to following the comprehensive high school model. As many educational reformers and critics have noted, school change of any sort is complex, and high schools have proven to be the level of education most resistant to change. One problem is that high schools tend to accumulate geological layers of policies and practices. Each new policy or program is laid down on the previous ones, like successive strata, with little ever being taken away. These overburdened institutions have a great deal of difficulty adapting or changing their practices without experiencing great stresses and strains on the fault lines that run through them.

The movement to high schools with strong core programs that result in the vast majority of students being successfully prepared for life beyond high school will be positively tectonic in nature, sweeping away many previous programs and practices—a situation that will challenge the adults in the school to agree on and teach to a common core, deepen their own content knowledge, and adapt instructional methods so that more students can succeed. Why, then, should they undertake actions that might not be in their own best short-term interests? A partial answer is that they must understand the importance of the change, have a vision of what needs to be changed, be shown how they will be successful in any new model, and have access to the tools they will need to be successful.

An additional challenge to making this sort of transition in the purpose of high school is that the educational system is not designed to support any radical redistribution of resources, skills, priorities, practices, and programs. Local school boards and central office administrators do not want angry parents complaining that their son or daughter doesn’t have access to a prized program or class. The idea of open enrollment for all courses is disagreeable to some parents, who see this as diminishing the accomplishments of their own children in some way. In schools with large concentrations of students from low-income families, it may be the community itself that calls for more job training and is suspicious of more college or career preparation opportunities. High schools will need a plan to communicate how a retooling oriented toward college and career helps local students more than simple job training does.

Policymakers send mixed messages regarding the standards that high schools should meet. A few states have been successful in implementing a set of graduation requirements that include some sort of higher credit requirements and a reasonably high exit exam score and then sticking to it long enough for high schools to attempt to prepare students to achieve the required level. But most states have gyrated from one set of standards, exit exam, or graduation requirement, and cut score to another, while simultaneously altering implementation time lines and consequences. All of this policy churn tends to reinforce the position of those educators and others who argue that this too shall pass. Passive-aggressive resistance is perhaps more difficult to combat than out-and-out defiance or anger over a new program or requirement. Sustained policy direction is necessary to support a new direction and new core expectations for high schools.

Postsecondary institutions, for their part, provide little help when high schools seek to raise expectations for their graduates. Entrance requirements themselves are relatively rudimentary at all but the most selective universities and colleges. At almost all the rest, students can be admitted through multiple methods, including some that allow them to bypass completely information on high school courses taken and grades received. The fact that many of these students end up in remedial education is not necessarily viewed as a problem that either the high school or college needs to address. It is now the student’s responsibility.

Employers might be expected to hold the line for high standards, but most do not even examine students ’ high school transcripts. Organizations that do gauge applicant knowledge level often use their own basic skills tests, and they rely on testing thousands of candidates to identify a handful to whom they then offer employment. Few high school educators, or students for that matter, get the message that employers require high skill levels from applicants for entry-level positions because, in practice, employers rarely do, or they simply skim the pool for the few who do meet their requirements.

Given this lack of reinforcement by a range of institutions for the value of a high school diploma, how can high schools alone enforce new, clearer, higher standards and expectations? Is there some magic formula high school administrators and educators have been overlooking? Is there a silver bullet that will magically transform high school education so that all students are adequately prepared for a twenty-first-century society and economy?

The answer, unfortunately and predictably, is no. This dilemma is not resolved simply, neatly, and amicably. However, high school educators and administrators can take specific actions, many of which are explored in the chapters in this book. The starting point on this journey is a common understanding of what it means to be ready for college and careers if this is going to be the new functional goal for a high school education.

WHAT WE MEAN BY “READY FOR COLLEGE AND CAREERS”

In this book I talk of college and career readiness in tandem. But it’s worth examining what I mean by each in a bit more detail. College readiness—in particular, in the context of the U.S. educational system—can mean many different things to many different people. What, then, is a fair standard to which high schools should or could be held when we say we want all students prepared for college? Perhaps the best way to interpret what this means is as follows: High schools should be considered successful in proportion to the degree to which they prepare their students to continue to learn beyond high school. By “learn,” I mean the ability to engage in formal learning in any of a wide range of settings: university and college classrooms, community college two-year certificate programs, apprenticeships that require formal classroom instruction as one component, and military training that is technical in nature and necessitates the ability to process information through a variety of modes developed academically, such as reading, writing, and mathematics.

This definition encompasses a range of possible futures for students and, potentially, a range of possible means by which high schools might prepare students for these futures. But at the heart of this definition is the concept that students must possess a key set of skills, many of them commonly and perhaps erroneously associated more with college readiness and success than some of the other options open to students after high school.

I have detailed the type of knowledge and skill more fully in a previous book, College Knowledge, and I present in this book in Chapter Eight an example of a set of college readiness standards developed and adopted by a state. Furthermore, work at the national level to develop and implement common core standards for college and career readiness is ongoing and serves as a useful reference point. I also provide examples in subsequent chapters of how schools organize themselves to ensure that a wide range of students is being challenged and expected to develop these core academic skills and capabilities through many innovative and motivating programs and strategies. We do know a great deal about what students should be able to do to continue their learning beyond high school, and we have many successful models to which we can turn for insight and guidance.

Returning to the topic of what it means to be ready for learning beyond high school, some people, and many media outlets, take this to be ready to go to Harvard or some equally selective institution. Similarly, when defining the ability to afford college, costs are presented for the most expensive tier of postsecondary institutions. From the very beginning, we have a skewed sense of what it takes to go to college—one that does not represent the complexity and variance present in the forty-two hundred two-year and four-year postsecondary institutions in the country.

Similarly, media, parents, and even some educators tend to judge a high school’s success in preparing students for college by the number of graduates who gain admission to one of the most selective institutions in the nation. Unfortunately for high schools, getting students admitted to these colleges and universities is so competitive that their admissions processes are as much art and craft as science. A student’s admissions folio may be reviewed two, three, or up to seven times under close scrutiny by admissions professionals. Running this gauntlet successfully is as much or more a function of what the university is looking for to round out its incoming freshman class as it is a judgment on the high school’s ability to prepare students for college. High schools cannot reasonably be expected to prepare students for this idiosyncratic process, which is designed as much to weigh a student’s character as to gauge academic potential.

Interestingly, even these institutions choose on occasion to admit some students who are not adequately prepared in some subject areas. Although these cases are rare, they do exist. These colleges and universities know they are able to devote significant resources to ensuring that all the students they admit receive the help and support they need to succeed. That support can include special tutoring, close monitoring, academic labs, writing centers, designated advisors who check on student progress regularly, assignment to study groups and support groups, and carefully designed entry-level courses that provide scaffolded support to students initially to ensure they are able to succeed. Even students who are well prepared on paper often take advantage of these services at the most selective institutions, much to these students’ advantage.

Large state universities represent a second tier of college preparation. Although their requirements may be superficially similar to the more selective institutions, they differ in several important respects. First, they pay much less attention to each individual’s credentials beyond reviewing the course titles present on their transcripts, calculating grade point averages derived from course grades, and considering admissions test scores. Second, they tend to accept a much higher proportion of applicants. Notable exceptions to this generalization can be found at state flagship research universities, but even here, admission rates for in-state students are generally significantly higher than at the most selective private universities.

Third, public universities have a number of trap doors available to them that allow them to admit students on the margins or for whom some legitimate reason exists to grant an exception. Part of this is motivated by the desire not to exclude any potentially successful student, and part is dictated by the reality of needing to fill the freshman class each year, regardless of the composition of the applicant pool. This is not to say that state universities admit unprepared students necessarily, only that they draw from a pool consisting of students with a much wider degree of variance in their preparation than do colleges and universities in the more selective tiers. High school grade inflation, well documented by transcript studies conducted by ACT and others, has resulted in most entering students achieving high school grade-point averages that exceed 3.0 on a four-point scale. Yesterday’s C is today’s B, and, as a result, it is much more difficult to know which students are actually prepared for college based on grades alone.

Fourth, although many of these institutions make a show of not admitting students who are in need of remediation, all have some significant provisions to address the remedial needs of newly admitted students. In essence, they are prepared to admit students they have reason to believe are unprepared to succeed in at least some areas of study. Institutions that claim not to offer remedial courses often require students to take such classes at a local community college, and they may restrict the access these students have to certain credit-bearing courses at the institution until they complete remedial requirements.

What is more common, however, is to admit a student with the requirement that a remedial course be taken before beginning studies in a particular area, generally composition or mathematics, and then allow the student to determine when to take the remedial course. The result is that some students wait, sometimes for several years, before completing the remedial requirement and moving along to the credit-bearing course. In other cases, it may be possible to avoid the subject area where remediation is required altogether, particularly at institutions where a bachelor’s degree can be earned without meeting significant mathematics requirements.

In fact, state colleges and universities do not really determine if entering students are fully prepared to succeed in entry-level college courses. Instead, they rely on probabilities for success in first-year courses gleaned from studies of the correlations between high school courses taken, grades received, scores earned on admissions tests, and grades in those freshman general education courses. These measures certainly are valid to the degree to which they explain a proportion of the variance associated with potential success. They also leave much unexplained. Into this gap fall many students who seem on paper to be ready for college but cannot pass placement tests or struggle mightily in entry-level college courses, often doing poorly enough that they change institutions in an attempt to find one that is consistent not only with their interests but with their level of academic preparation and performance. This movement among postsecondary institutions, particularly by lower-division undergraduates, is labeled “churning” by scholars and policy analysts who study this phenomenon.

The next tier in the U.S. postsecondary system consists of the community colleges, which are distinguished and defined by their open enrollment policies. They are often known as second-chance institutions—places where students can recover from mistakes they made and opportunities they missed in high school. Community colleges in the United States are somewhat unique in the world in that they offer programs of preparation for both the baccalaureate degree (through a two-year associate degree transfer program designed to meet general education requirements) and for technical certificate programs designed to lead directly to employment in a variety of fields. These certificates can vary from cosmetology to nursing, from automotive technician to computer-assisted design, from security guard to accountant. Many have no prerequisites, but some are very demanding regarding the academic preparation necessary to be admitted to them and are, in fact, quite selective. Community colleges are generally charged with being responsive to regional economic conditions and opportunities and providing services and programs geared to local needs and priorities.

The downside of this openness is the variance in readiness found among students choosing to attend community colleges. While many, perhaps most, of these students are potentially quite capable academically, for a variety of reasons they failed to master many of the rudimentary academic knowledge and skills necessary for postsecondary participation, or they faced other life challenges that precluded consideration of postsecondary education immediately out of high school. The community college often takes on a triage role, trying to sort among students who seem capable of being ready to move on to four-year programs and those ready for certificate programs from those who require significant support and development before being ready for any academic studies whatsoever.

The needs of American high school students for remediation after high school have become a matter of increasing interest and concern among policymakers, although few legislatures have done much about it yet. To do so would threaten the cherished open enrollment policies of community colleges, which themselves tend to resist any initiative that might establish minimal knowledge and skill expectations for entering students. While most community colleges do make extensive use of placement tests and restrict access to particular programs, the open enrollment ethos is a cornerstone element of the community college mission and identity.

The unintended consequence of this entirely laudable commitment to accept all comers is that many high school students labor under the impression that they need to do little in high school yet can still show up at the community college and essentially make up for not taking high school seriously. This is a major miscalculation because community colleges do restrict access, based on a student’s academic qualifications, to many of the programs leading to a four-year college degree and to a range of highly prized certificates.

The other related problem for students with this strategy is that they end up placing into remedial courses that largely repeat content taught initially in high school (or earlier) and for which the students receive no credit but for which they must pay tuition. This extends their time to completing the program and often leads to disillusionment, frustration, and discontinuation by students who recognize the distance they have to go to develop their academic skills to levels required to continue in many high-demand postsecondary programs.

Beyond the formal postsecondary sectors described here lies a range of other environments in which students can acquire key knowledge and skills necessary for success beyond high school. These include proprietary programs (for-profit technical institutes and others); apprenticeship training programs in the trades, often sponsored by unions or business associations; military training, which increasingly means technical and occupational skill development; and other opportunities, including starting a business or traveling for personal growth during a gap year as a means to find out which career path to pursue. These diverse options offer opportunities to young adults for whom enrollment in traditional postsecondary education is not necessarily the best choice at this time in their lives. Although these choices help ensure that students have multiple opportunities to pursue when they are ready to do so, none can be accomplished successfully without a core set of academic skills, dispositions, and knowledge.

What, then, does it mean to be “ready for college” in the American educational system? At one level, it means completing a prescribed sequence of courses. At another level, though, meeting this criterion has little meaning because the American system accommodates almost everyone who has any interest in pursuing education beyond high school, even if they are not ready to do so.

The challenge is not simply to get students into postsecondary programs, as daunting as that challenge might be in some high schools and communities. It is to prepare them to succeed in those programs. In essence, it means students ready to learn beyond high school, not simply to complete high school. A high school diploma awarded to a student who is not capable of performing successfully in any formal learning program beyond high school amounts to a false promise to its recipient. Focusing high school solely on awarding diplomas to students is to ignore the reality of the world into which those graduates enter. That world demands specific knowledge and skills, not a certificate that has come to reflect attendance and perhaps perseverance for many students but not any identifiable level of performance in areas key to full participation in the economic and social systems.

Federal and state education officials spend an inordinate amount of time specifying the means to determine how many students have graduated from high school and how many have dropped out. High school administrators and teachers suffer angst and frustration over the reported graduation and dropout rates for their schools. Herculean efforts are made to improve graduation rates and increase student retention through to graduation. But seldom is equivalent effort devoted to ensuring that students who do receive diplomas are ready for what awaits them after high school and throughout the rest of their lives because we don’t have the means or proclivity to measure these important outcomes.

To their credit, many high school educators have begun instituting programs that require students to demonstrate their skills, generally during the senior year and often through some sort of culminating process, and several states have made it a requirement that all high school students do so. More often, though, states have implemented a test that purports to ascertain whether students have reached a level of knowledge and skill that the state designates as adequate.

Several problems exist with using state-based tests as the sole or primary gauge of readiness for college or life. When compared to a consistent nationwide measure such as NAEP the proportion of students deemed to meet a standard of proficiency differs dramatically across states. On other measures, such as the SAT or ACT, moderate correlations can be found between the state measures and these admissions tests, but little evidence exists to demonstrate that performance on the state test is preparing students to perform better in college, that the state tests are particularly good measures of college readiness, or that schools are doing much specifically targeted to get students ready for college as a result of the state testing requirements. To the contrary, many schools essentially abandon a college preparatory focus in favor of intensive test preparation in order to get many students ready to meet state requirements, particularly when those requirements are tied to public accountability systems and the awarding of high school diplomas.

As we shall see later in this book, postsecondary readiness requires specific skills and capabilities that are not being developed in the head-long rush to increase graduation rates or to create accountability for high schools and their students. The goal of more college-ready students cannot be achieved without much closer coordination between high schools and colleges, a point that is taken up in the chapters in Part One of this book.

This, then, is the challenge facing American high schools. Can they be reengineered so that they offer programs designed to enable as many students as possible to be prepared to participate successfully in formal learning beyond high school in a variety of settings, but with the majority going on to some form of postsecondary education either immediately after graduation or within several years? Can high schools shed their current deep connections to reinforcing social stratification by graduating students equally prepared for a range of challenging, rewarding futures? Can the compulsion to judge and sort be overcome by the impulse and drive to empower all students to pursue additional education beyond high school? Can we believe we should expect this of all students? Can we believe this is right? Can we believe this is possible?