How Can Top Teachers Reach More Kids? Nashville Tries Handing Them More Classrooms

There’s a stack of research that suggests all the educational innovation in the world still doesn’t hold a candle to an awesome teacher. And that’s the driving force behind an experiment at three low-performing Nashville schools to broaden the impact and boost the pay of superstar teachers.

“We’ll probably never fill up every single classroom with one of those teachers,” says Bryan Hassel, founder of Charlotte-based education consulting firm Public Impact. “How can we change the way schools work so that the great teachers we do have can reach more of the students, maybe even all of them?”

Public Impact, which also works with schools in North Carolina and New York, is helping Buena Vista and Robert Churchwell elementary schools and Bailey Middle Prep develop what the firm dubs an “opportunity culture” for teachers. It’s one part of a broader turnaround strategy at the schools, which have struggled mightily on the state’s standardized test, known as TCAP.

Meet Whitney Bradley

“That is awful,” says 8th grade teacher Whitney Bradley, pinching her nose while spraying a can of air freshener. Someone farted, setting off a moment of chaos and laughter. “They’re the most flatulent group of children.”

Bradley — which is what her students and colleagues call her — knows how to get silly with her students, and they love her for it. She also knows when to get serious.

“Let’s face it, we’ve got six weeks and one spring break before TCAP,” she told the class last month.

Tucked into the gentrifying neighborhoods of East Nashville, Bailey ranks as one of the state’s lowest in terms of test scores. Many students come from public housing, and they’re way behind. So teachers like Bradley ease into the material.

When prepping for the state’s writing test, she gets the ball rolling with a journaling exercise.

“For struggling readers and writers, they may not know a lot about Shakespeare, and they might not know about literary illusions, but they know about themselves,” she says after giving a clear and direct lesson about organizing an essay. “It’s strategic. They’re writing. And they don’t really know they’re about to crank out an essay.”

Bradley’s tactics pay off. Her evaluations place her in the top echelon of teachers statewide for student growth. She’s in the running for Tennessee’s Teacher of the Year. She’s also the kind of natural leader who’s told — and even tempted — to become a principal.

But professor Barbara Stengel of Vanderbilt’s Peabody College says Bradley is precisely the kind of talent schools should bend over backwards to retain as teachers.

“How do we create career paths for teachers, fabulous classroom teachers like Whitney Bradley, so we don’t have to make them administrators?” she asks. “They can still be in classrooms.”

Stengel advises Bailey Middle in its experiment with multi-classroom instructors. The school hires “lead teachers” to handle their own class as well as oversee roughly four other teachers. At Bailey, the teams also consist of non-certified aides and full-year student teachers from Peabody, who make roughly a half-salary.

The new hierarchy solves several problems at once, Stengel says. The lead teacher becomes an automatic mentor to the teachers she oversees. And the mid-level management position helps the school justify paying them more.

“As long as we say stuck in one teacher, one classroom, we can’t figure out how to get out of that,” Stengel says.

In The Trenches, But In Charge

The pay and new title merely formalize what a lot of great educators already do.

Whitney Bradley says mothering and mentoring come naturally for her, even at 28 years old. Her colleagues seek her out for help. Her room is a hub. Teachers duck in with a quick question. The phone rings every few minutes.

As a multi-classroom instructor, Bradley is like an infantry officer — in the trenches, but in charge. Between calls, she teaches lessons where every eye is on her. Then she lets her student teacher take over the one-on-one work. She helps a teacher next door with a discipline issue. A young man has a cartoonish, but mostly-naked woman on his hoody.

“If you wear a shirt that has boobies and bottoms on it again, I’m going to write you a referral, capeesh?” she says. The student nods in agreement after a second “capeesh?”

Bradley has incentive to assist her team members. As part of the new role, her evaluation depends on the test scores of her students and the ones of the teachers she leads.

“The weight of this 100 students is on my shoulders, but I have a team that is strong enough,” she says. “They follow me.”

Still, Bradley calls it an “awkward dance” at times. Teachers are accustomed to being the queen of their castle. Now they have a fellow teacher looking over their shoulder.

Ann Marie Dvorak, who is considered an apprentice teacher, jokes that she’s one of the “underlings.”

“We talk about how we’re equals, and we plan like we’re equals. And there are times – obviously – when Bradley will have more of a responsibility,” Dvorak says. “But honestly, I think the philosophy behind it is so important.”

The multi-classroom concept makes teaching feel a bit more like a profession with opportunity for advancement, Dvorak says.

Metro Schools’ central office has latched onto the idea. It’s proposed $1.5 million to fund more multi-classroom positions next year, with an average $6,000 stipend available per teacher.

According to budget documents, “many teachers are already serving in leadership roles, and the district wants to formally recognize and reward those roles.”