I could have funded a randomized controlled trial by now if I had a $1 for each time a district asked me to conduct research on the effectiveness of our program. Even while only scholars will be able to relate to that joke, everyone in the education ecosystem—publishers, teachers, administrators, and students—is impacted by this reality.
Districts are posing pertinent inquiries. Before spending tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars on training, materials, subscriptions, and continuing professional development, they want evidence. They have the right to insist on it. In recent years, there has been a significant change in the discourse surrounding literacy. A science of reading movement that is based on decades of research and evidence has replaced the formerly widely recognized balanced literacy approach, which, to be honest, didn’t produce the outcomes that children required.
In a time when literacy outcomes are more important than ever, buying a curriculum without validated, evidence-based research is effectively taking someone’s word for it. No district can afford to take that risk. Districts must demonstrate that the programs they implement benefit their students, not merely make a good sales pitch. Evidence is not a luxury anymore. It serves as the cornerstone for impact and trust.
That’s fair, too. Actually, creating and disseminating that evidence is the focus of my entire work. The tough part, though, comes next.
We live in a time when everything is based on evidence. ESSA levels. listings authorized by the state. checklists for instructional audits. reviews of the curriculum. Research has properly taken center stage, and the pressure is real.
Here’s the problem, though. Districts desire the receipts, but the majority lack the resources and bandwidth to assist in their creation.
And it’s not that they don’t give a damn. They’re stretched, that’s why. The effects of pandemic whiplash are still being seen in schools. Teachers have too much on their plates. Competing priorities are being managed by leaders. It can seem hopeless to even consider having one more.
Therefore, we typically hear something along the lines of: We love the idea, but maybe next year when we invite a district to participate in a formal research study, even if it’s a light-lift, free one.
The field as a whole loses off when districts refuse to participate in research. We miss out on chances to grow as an industry that aims to do the right thing for students as well as as curriculum publishing companies.
Although it may appear that only the large curriculum firms provide solid research, even they encounter the same difficulties as startups or specialized solutions. It is difficult for everyone to get actual classrooms to open their doors for data collecting. Regretfully, businesses with existing evidence seem more appealing in the current environment, which ultimately promotes a rich get richer loop. However, regardless matter how successful they may be, newer or developing initiatives find it difficult to collect the data required to demonstrate their effectiveness.
The outcome? We all wind up with a limited body of data that doesn’t accurately represent what is most effective for pupils. And none of us need an ecosystem like that.
I understand the indisputable difficulties facing the educational system because of my work at Reading Horizons. Taking part in a research study can feel like just one more request on top of the many demands that administrators, curriculum directors, and instructors are already handling.
I don’t blame them either. For districts, traditional curriculum research models are frequently burdensome. They necessitate numerous layers of classroom observations, hours of teacher surveys, incessant data pulls, and little to no continuing vendor support. It’s understandable why districts are hesitant; they just lack the time, resources, and confidence that their efforts will be worthwhile.
A radical change in the research model is required, one that is designed to make research feasible and advantageous for all parties involved, rather than one that is more of a researcher-subject interaction.
This model ought to give priority to:
- A single point of contact to guide the process from start to finish
- Quick touchpoints to help define goals and stay aligned
- Light classroom observations that are short, purposeful, and unobtrusive
- One short teacher survey that takes minutes, not hours
- Built-in coaching and check-ins so teachers feel confident and supported throughout
- Custom reports schools can actually use, with data that tells their stories
Don’t simply do this for us, please. Let’s work together on this. School districts, publishers, and researchers must collaborate if we wish to improve the caliber of curricula. To improve the tried-and-true methods and eliminate the unsuccessful ones, we must support one another.
So, I’m asking all of you education leaders—principals, curriculum directors, superintendents, and others—to embrace research.
as a co-creator as well as a consumer of evidence. It’s a chance to persuasively and clearly communicate your school’s story, based on student outcomes.
Glistening marketing presentations and ivory towers won’t produce the next generation of evidence-based initiatives.
They will originate from classes similar to yours.
