“She informed me, matter-of-factly, that she was old enough to know the difference between intriguing and fucked up. ‘You should go for younger women,’ she advised me. ‘They can’t always tell.’”

—Tana French, In the Woods

All good things must come to an end, and summer is nearing its close.

Metro Nashville Public Schools teachers return to their buildings today. In 10 days, the students will join them, officially closing the door on yet another summer.

Over those next 10 days, teachers will do the multitude of things required to get ready for the upcoming school year. They’ll arrange classrooms, attend faculty meetings, decorate bulletin boards, review student information, learn new software, sit through mandated training, prepare lesson plans, answer emails, track down supplies and try to remember the password they created last May.

Somewhere in there, they may even find a little time to prepare to teach.

A chef taught me many years ago that preparation was the secret to success. The better the preparation, the more likely everything will run smoothly once the doors open and the customers arrive.

Unfortunately, teachers are frequently forced to steal that preparation time from district initiatives and state mandates. Everyone has something that teachers absolutely must hear before students arrive. Every department has a presentation. Every administrator has a priority. Every vendor has a new program that will supposedly make teachers’ lives easier—right after they complete the required three-hour training module.

This is also the time of year when district leaders like to tout having filled nearly every position.

Please don’t be fooled.

There is a difference between “every position filled” and “fully staffed.” It’s a little bit of a shell game.

Combining classrooms, discontinuing offerings, shifting staff between buildings, increasing class sizes and using candidates with provisional licenses are all tools districts can utilize to mask hiring issues. If you eliminate a position you couldn’t fill, technically you no longer have a vacancy.

See how that works?

According to Sean Braisted, chief of communications and technology for MNPS, the district has 155 teacher vacancies heading into the start of this school year.

It’s kind of amazing how that number stays roughly the same year after year.

If you listen closely to Braisted, you’ll hear confirmation of the aforementioned strategies, just delivered in prettier language.

“Our Human Resources team has worked throughout the summer alongside school leaders to recruit and hire qualified educators, and we expect to fill additional positions leading up to and after the first day of school, as is typical each year.”

“As is typical each year” is doing some heavy lifting there.

Braisted continued:

“Schools routinely adjust staffing assignments, balance class schedules, and implement other instructional strategies to ensure students have qualified teachers in their classrooms on day one while positions are being filled.”

“Adjust staffing assignments” and “balance class schedules” sound much better than “move people around” and “put more children in a classroom.”

Teacher shortages have grown over the past decade as the job has become increasingly untenable. Teachers are no longer expected simply to teach. They are expected to wear multiple hats in an effort to earn their paycheck, all while working under increased scrutiny.

They are instructors, counselors, data analysts, social workers, disciplinarians, technology troubleshooters, attendance officers, curriculum experts, test administrators and, occasionally, human shields.

Then we act surprised when fewer people want the job.

When I first started bartending four decades ago, the responsibility for a fake ID largely fell on the shoulders of the person presenting it. Over time, that changed. Now, it’s my fault if I fail to catch the fake ID.

Teaching has followed a similar path.

Where the onus to learn once rested primarily on the student, it has increasingly passed to the teacher. If a student fails to complete an assignment, the first question is often what the teacher did to encourage completion. If a student is chronically absent, the teacher is expected to document attempts to reengage them. If a student refuses to participate, educators must explain what strategies they tried.

In doing so, we fail to account for all the outside variables that go into learning.

Teachers matter tremendously. But they cannot control whether a child gets enough sleep, attends school regularly, completes assignments, has stable housing or receives support at home. They cannot overcome every societal failure during a 50-minute class period.

Still, over the next 10 days, Nashville school buildings will be full of teachers doing their best to navigate those barriers and find ways to benefit students.

For that, we are blessed.

Thank you, teachers, for your continued dedication and commitment. I hope somebody remembers to give you time to prepare.

A SIMPLE AMENDMENT BECOMES ANYTHING BUT SIMPLE

Pre-school-year board meetings are particularly interesting.

Last week, one surrounding school board passed a policy prohibiting teachers from dating former students. I’m not quite sure how you enforce that one—or why the subject rose to the level of meriting board action.

Maybe they’ve had a run on teacher/former-student relationships. If so, I’d argue that speaks to a much bigger issue.

But I digress.

This week’s MNPS board meeting brought its own bit of weirdness while also showing a not-so-flattering side of Director of Schools Dr. Adrienne Battle.

The weirdness started in the Governance Committee. MNPS likes to conduct much of its business in committee meetings, semi-shielded from public attention.

Committee members were approving changes to board policies to align with recently enacted state laws that went into effect July 1. It was a fairly rudimentary process until they reached the policy governing teacher sick leave and personal days.

State lawmakers, in an effort to reduce the burden on teachers to prove they were actually sick, passed legislation limiting the number of sick days a teacher can earn annually. However, the law puts no cap on the number of personal days a district may allow teachers to earn.

The new sick-day cap is two days lower than what teachers previously received.

MNPS hasn’t needed a specific policy covering this because the state didn’t regulate the matter in the same way. Like many districts, MNPS found a workaround to ensure teachers received the maximum number of leave days.

More recently, the number of days was addressed through the memorandum of understanding reached through collaborative conferencing.

The new law changes that.

The simplest solution—and trust me, none of this is actually simple—would be to convert two sick days into two personal days.

That was the proposal put forward by Dr. Battle. The revised board policy would mimic the language of the new law.

There was just one potential problem.

Under the proposal, teachers with 10 or more years of service could potentially lose a leave day.

Board member Abigail Tylor recognized the issue. After explaining it several times, she proposed an amendment acknowledging both the role of the MOU and the potential shortage.

It was a straightforward change. Tylor wanted to add the words “at least” before the number of personal days.

The law’s intent would remain intact, while the board would make clear that it supported teachers receiving all the leave days they had earned.

The amendment came with no immediate fiscal cost because the board would still have to approve the total number of days proposed through the MOU.

Dr. Battle was not happy with the solution.

She pushed back—hard.

Battle argued that her team had already done extensive work on the policy. At one point, she clapped her hands while addressing Tylor, much like a teacher might clap while correcting a student.

Board members often remind the public that they are responsible for only one employee: the Director of Schools.

I’m not sure I’ve ever had a boss who would have taken kindly to being addressed in the manner Battle addressed Tylor.

Eventually, Battle called on the newly hired director of legal services, Dana Osbruck, to advise the board. This apparently served as the board’s first introduction to Osbruck.

The legal director proceeded to offer legal advice and opposed the proposed amendment.

The problem is that Osbruck is the legal adviser for Dr. Battle and the district—not the elected school board.

That distinction became considerably clearer during the full board meeting when the policy was revisited.

The amendment ultimately failed in committee, primarily over what I would argue was a misunderstanding of the collaborative-conferencing process.

The MOU process is lengthy and involved. It can take years to complete, its conclusions are nonbinding, and the process itself isn’t guaranteed to remain in place. State lawmakers came close to eliminating collaborative conferencing this year, and they are likely to pursue that goal again.

Considering those factors, it might be a good idea to codify the board’s intentions.

During the full meeting following the committee session, board member Zach Young raised the amendment again.

Board member Erin Block argued that the district’s legal department had already weighed in and counseled against the amendment.

That was when Metro Legal—the entity that actually represents the board—felt compelled to interject.

Metro Legal attorney Nani Gilkerson clarified that her office had not previously provided an opinion and that Metro Legal—not Osbruck—serves as the school board’s official legal counsel.

When asked directly about the amendment, Gilerson said it didn’t believe the words “at least” were necessary but saw no legal problem with including them.

The amendment failed again.

I honestly don’t believe teachers will ultimately lose a leave day. But the argument created several new conundrums.

We now have a situation in which the board has legal counsel while the board’s sole employee has separate legal counsel.

Maybe the two legal teams will remain in step going forward, but they weren’t in this case.

Which opinion ultimately prevails when the two disagree?

Remember how I’ve repeatedly argued against intertwining the school district and city government? Remember how the Metro Charter established them as separate entities?

The school board receives its legal advice from Metro Legal, which is part of city government. There has long been a push for more representation of the Mayor’s office in Metro Schools. If the board attempts to adopt Battle’s legal director as its own adviser, how will that be received in the mayor’s office?

Dr. Battle reportedly had some pointed comments for the Gilkerson after she offered a contrary opinion. The attorney stood by her assessment, but one has to wonder how that disagreement will play out in the mayor’s office or Metro Council chambers.

There is one more wrinkle.

The board presumably had to approve the funding for a legal adviser who may now offer opinions contrary to those of the board’s existing legal adviser.

That doesn’t feel like a particularly prudent use of resources.

DEFENDING STUDENTS OR DEFENDING THE SYSTEM?

Tuesday’s meeting also saw the board consider four new charter-school applications.

To no one’s surprise, all four were rejected.

What was surprising was how openly several board members discussed their priorities. Financial impact on the district was repeatedly cited as a central reason for denial.

Vice Chair Berthena Nabaa-McKinney, who represents District 4 and chairs the Budget and Finance Committee, said her concerns were rooted in financial stewardship, equity and accountability.

She argued that approving additional charter schools would further strain district resources because Tennessee lacks a sufficient funding structure to absorb the impact.

Nabaa-McKinney talked about the fixed costs MNPS carries to serve roughly 80,000 students and how every new charter school redirects public funding away from the district.

“The decision is not about whether individual charter schools can do good or are doing good, it’s about financial reality facing our district. Those obligations do not decrease simply because of enrollment shifts.”

She isn’t wrong about the fixed costs.

Buildings still require electricity. Buses still have to run. Central-office departments don’t disappear because a school loses 10 students. A district can’t reduce expenses dollar for dollar every time a child leaves.

Board member Abigail Tylor added that Tennessee’s student-based funding formula means a traditional MNPS school losing even 10 students to a new charter school could suffer a significant financial impact.

Several board members echoed that sentiment.

But what has become increasingly clear to me is that we’ve shifted from defending the student to defending the system.

The expectation appears to be that even if those 10 students aren’t getting what they need, they owe it to the district to remain in their assigned school in order to preserve the existing structure.

The argument is no longer that the school is serving those children well. The argument is that their departure might hurt the school financially.

Those are not the same thing.

I understand the financial realities. I understand the problems created when money follows students while a district’s fixed costs remain. I understand that approving a new charter school can create ripple effects across nearby schools.

But none of that changes the fundamental question:

What does the individual student need?

If a traditional school is meeting that need, families will have fewer reasons to leave. If it isn’t, asking children to remain for the good of the system is a difficult position to defend.

Students are not funding units.

They are not responsible for protecting a district’s market share. They do not owe their enrollment to MNPS simply because the district built a financial structure that depends on retaining them.

The district exists to serve students. Students do not exist to sustain the district.

That doesn’t mean every charter application should be approved. Charter operators should face serious scrutiny. Their academic plans, financial assumptions, disciplinary policies, leadership capacity and promises to families should all be examined closely.

Some applications deserve rejection.

But “we can’t afford to lose the students” is not, by itself, a student-centered argument.

It’s an institutional one.

This distinction matters because MNPS is already losing enrollment. Families are making choices—with charter schools, private schools, homeschooling, surrounding districts and sometimes simply leaving Nashville altogether.

The answer cannot be to restrict those choices while refusing to ask why families are looking elsewhere.

The answer has to be building schools that families actively choose.

As teachers return to their classrooms, most will do exactly that. They will unpack boxes, write names on folders, create welcoming spaces and spend the next 10 days preparing to serve whichever children walk through their doors.

They’ll do it despite the vacancies, the mandates, the meetings, the legal disputes and the policy arguments happening above them.

They’ll do it because teachers remain focused on the students in front of them.

It would be nice if the rest of the system followed their example.

Because defending an institution is not the same thing as serving a child.

And that is not a position I can endorse.

SUPPORT DAD GONE WILD

If you value independent education reporting and commentary, consider supporting Dad Gone Wild.

Venmo: @Thomas-Weber-10
PayPal: Norinrad10@yahoo.com

Every contribution helps keep the coffee flowing and the questions coming. As always, thank you for reading, sharing and supporting the work.

Categories: Education