Jun 25, 2017
Home Early years

El cambio ocurre de forma desigual entre las unidades de la federación y no es suficiente para garantizar la universalización del acceso

Del Todos Pela Educação

El acceso a la Educación Básica para niños y jóvenes de 4 a 17 años ha crecido de forma constante en Brasil en la última década -de 89,5% en 2005, para 93,6% en 2014- según análisis hecho por el Todos Pela Educação desde datos de la Pesquisa Nacional por Amostra de Domicílios (Pnad), realizada anualmente por el Instituto Brasileiro de Geografia e Estatística (IBGE) para acompañar el progreso de la Meta 1 del movimiento: Todo niño y joven de 4 a 17 años en la escuela. En ese escenario, merece destaque el hecho de que el mayor avanzo en el ingreso se concentra en la Pre-escuela para niños de 4 y 5 años, etapa que pasó a integrar la Educación Básica luego de la aprobación de la Ley de Directrices y Bases de la Educación, en 1996. En los últimos diez años, el porcentual para ese grupo etario varió de 72,5% para 89,1% -una evolución de 16,6 puntos porcentuales-, como se puede observar en la tabla siguiente.

Fuente: IBGE – PNAD 2005, 2013 y 2014. Nota: Los cálculos llevan en cuenta la edad en años completos en 31 de marzo, o la edad escolar. En la tasa, se excluyen de la población de 4 a 17 años y de la población de 15 a 17 aquellos individuos que ya han concluido la Enseñanza Media.

“Hay evidencia de que los niños que frecuentan una Educación Infantil de calidad tienen un camino escolar con más aprendizaje y una vida adulta con mucho más oportunidades. Invertir en la niñez es, por tanto, la mejor estrategia para superar la desigualdad que todavía es muy alta y persistente en el país”, señala Priscila Cruz, presidente-ejecutiva del Todos Pela Educação.

Los datos también evidencian el avanzo en el ingreso de individuos entre 4 y 17 años. Del 2005 al 2014, la tasa ha subido 4 puntos porcentuales en la media brasileña.

Aunque se haya observado tal elevación en los últimos años, Brasil todavía enfrenta el desafío de la universalización del acceso en toda la Educación Básica, condición para el cumplimiento de la Emenda Constitucional nº 59, de 2009, que estableció el plazo hasta el año 2016 para que se garantice la matrícula escolar para todos los niños y jóvenes brasileños con edades entre 4 y 17 años.

Actualmente, de un total de 44,3 millones de niños y jóvenes de 4 a 17 años, 2,8 millones (6,2%) se encuentran fuera de la escuela -hace diez años, estos eran 5 millones (ver el gráfico abajo). A cada año, la tarea de incluir los que permanecen afuera del sistema se vuelve más desafiadora, pues recae sobre la población más pobre, sobre las minorías étnicas, sobre los niños y jóvenes con deficiencia, y sobre los habitantes de locales de difícil acceso.

Via @reduca_al

Original posted by: Reduca

0 1057

The British glass floor, part 1

Here’s a stubborn mathematical fact: each quintile can only contain 20 percent of the income distribution. If you want more people rising into the top quintile, you need more people falling down.

Just as there is intergenerational stickiness at the bottom of the income distribution, there is also stickiness at the top. A number of factors, combining to create a glass floor, prevent kids born at the top from falling, even those who are less skilled. A new study from the UK’s Social Mobility and Child Poverty Commission,Downward Mobility, opportunity hoarding, and the ‘glass floor,’ probes this question.

Abigail McKnight, from the London School of Economics, examines the relationship between income and social class at birth; and income, social class, and educational attainment at age 42. She draws on data from the British Birth Cohort Survey, which follows roughly 17,000 people born during a single week in 1970. Her paper also explores the distribution of skills at ages five and ten, and other childhood factors, to see how far they influenced outcomes at different points on the income distribution.

Smart five-year-olds are richer 40-year-olds

McKnight shows that measures of cognitive ability as early as five years of age are strongly correlated with adult outcomes, including income:

There is also a strong association between these early cognitive scores and social background. Children from the highest social class were almost five times more likely than those from the lowest class to score in the top quintile in terms of cognitive capacity at five:

So, having better-off parents predicts higher test scores at age five, which in turn predicts higher adulthood income.

How less-smart but advantaged kids become well-paid adults

But McKnight is seeking an answer to a more interesting question. How and why do kids scoring poorly on ability tests at the age of five still go on to prosper as adults? Specifically, she uses a series of regression models to examine the relationship between ‘low’ cognitive scores at age five (in the bottom 40 percent of the distribution) and being “successful” at 42 (defined as being in the top quintile for hourly labor income). Five factors seem to explain why low-scoring kids from affluent backgrounds are more likely to succeed as adults:

  1. Educated parents. Low-scoring five-year-olds with a college-educated parent are 13 percentage points more likely to succeed as adults, for example, compared to those with uneducated parents;
  2. Math “catch-up” by 10. Children from a better-off background are much more likely to do better in math at the age of ten, even if they did poorly five years earlier;
  3. Stronger non-cognitive skills. Kids from more privileged backgrounds score higher on a “locus of control” measure administered at age ten; conversely, they had fewer reported behavioral problems reported;
  4. Private education. Attendance at a fee-paying school makes a big difference, even allowing for other factors;
  5. College degree. Kids struggling at five but going on to get a college degree were 17 percentage points more likely to succeed as an adult than those ending up with low levels of education.

So, is the better performance of the initially low-scoring kids from more affluent backgrounds unfair? That depends on your definition of fairness, which we will discuss in part 2 tomorrow.

  • Richard V. Reeves is a senior fellow in Economic Studies, co-director of the Center on Children and Families, and editor-in-chief of the Social Mobility Memos blog. His research focuses on social mobility, inequality, and family change. Prior to joining Brookings, he was director of strategy to the UK’s Deputy Prime Minister.

Original posted by: Brookings

Veronica Luque is taking time to sit down at the kitchen table with her son, Angel. He’s a real cutie-pie, this round-faced, 10-year-old. His mom wants to know what every parent wants to know after school: How’d it go?

Veronica Luque works hard to stay involved in her children's education.
Veronica Luque works hard to stay involved in her children’s education. (Jeremy Raff/KQED)

“¿Qué pasó hoy en tu paseo de la escuela?” she asks in Spanish. What happened on your field trip?

Angel looks up at her eagerly, trying to respond. But he keeps slipping into English, which his mom doesn’t understand very well. And she corrects his Spanish grammar along the way. He slumps, frustrated.

“Matemáticas y como … I can’t say it,” says Angel. “Um, it’s, um, how… how do you say multiplication? It’s hard to say it.”

Angel Luque does homework after school.
Angel Luque does homework after school. (Jeremy Raff/KQED)

If Angel were literate in Spanish, he’d probably be more proficient in English by now. But he’s not proficient in either language, so he’s heading into fifth grade on the verge of becoming a  Long-Term English Learner, a term used for kids who have been in U.S. schools for more than six years and still aren’t fluent in English.

His older sister, Lidia, is in high school. She knows what he’s going through. When she started school, she had to learn English, too.

“It was difficult because I would always try to get other people to understand what I was saying,” says Lidia. “But then they would try to get me to understand and I would get really confused. So I would just go be by myself or with someone else who spoke Spanish.”

Lidia at least had her Spanish to fall back on. She’s the oldest child, having moved to the U.S. with her parents when she was a baby. But her four younger brothers were all born in San Jose. Jose is in eighth grade, Angel in fifth, Bryan in first and Valentin in kindergarten.

The boys have only had English in school. Even so, Angel is still struggling to prove he’s academically proficient in it.

“Sometimes I get bad on the tests,” says Angel. “And sometimes I forgot to turn in my homework.”

One in four california students are still learning English. Almost all of them go to classes where it’s the only language their teachers know. By law these students are supposed to get the same educational opportunities as everyone else. For thousands of kids, however, that’s not the case.

From kindergarten to third grade, Angel’s scores on the state’s English proficiency test barely budged. In fact, he was stuck at the same level for three years.

He’s at an age now where the right teaching could make a big difference.

In his fourth grade classroom at Luther Burbank School in San Jose, Angel looks up at an interactive whiteboard. His teacher, Janet Plant, uses the screen to go online and add photos and videos to her lessons. Plant says it’s crucial to make words visual.

“It’s the same kind of idea of a visually rich classroom for preschoolers and kindergarteners,” she says. “Because they’re learning in all these different modes.”

The essentials of strong teaching — project-based learning, getting kids to participate and discuss what they are doing, kids showing that they understand — is even more critical for English language learners, who must practice speaking and interact with their teacher in class in order to learn English.

“So we’re going to have a writing assignment today about Sophie,” Plant says to the class. “So what could we write about, a Sophie adventure story?”

Angel answers, “Her and her dog friends on a quest.”

Plant says she often sees her fourth-graders talking in English with friends and answering questions fairly clearly.

“And yet when it comes to the academic language … that’s where they’re totally lost. Test taking, also, words like “evaluate” and “solve” being the same thing. If they have to answer the question, ‘Could you please tell us why this happened in the story and give us some clues?’ Instead of telling us why, they’ll tell us what happened.”

Veteran teachers at the school like Plant have gotten frustrated as programs have come and gone over the past 30 years. There was bilingual education until California banned it in 1998. Now it’s English-only.

Angel and sister Lidia outside their apartment.
Angel and sister Lidia outside their apartment. (Jeremy Raff/KQED)

Some schools get waivers to do dual immersion or bilingual programs. But not Luther Burbank — it does what is mandated, pulling Angel and other English language learners out of class to get 30 minutes a day of English language development.

“Which usually works out to 25 minutes once they get seated and get their workbooks,” says Plant. “So I have this very quick lesson, which is academic vocabulary and experiential situations. It’s not enough.”

Research shows a lot of teachers just don’t understand how to teach English language learners.

“Teachers mostly don’t know how to teach language,” says English-learner researcher Laurie Olsen. “They teach subjects or curriculum, but they don’t know how to listen to what’s happening with language, they don’t know how to model language. That has been a huge problem.”

Piloting a New Model

Yet we do know what works.

Miner Elementary in South San Jose’s Oak Grove School District is one of more than a dozen Bay Area schools piloting a model called Sobrato Early Academic Language, or SEAL. It was developed by Olsen. The first thing you notice here  are visual strategies — colorful posters, words and diagrams — in every classroom.

Teachers have ditched the workbooks. They want students to lead discussions and talk — a lot. Every lesson puts language first. The bigger the words, the better.

Teacher Julie Federman coaxes a shy kindergartener named Alfred to show off his new marine biology knowledge.

“Could you tell me about the food chain? And we’ll start with the kelp at the bottom. What happens?”

“Well, the kelp is eaten by the crab,” says Alfred. “Then the octopus eats the crab. Then the octopus is eaten by the whale.”

Alfred came to school speaking hardly any English. Now, he’s using big words like “octopus” and speaking in complete sentences. Federman says she doubts he would have made this much progress with the school’s old, more traditional methods.

“I can see so much growth and mostly engagement, student engagement. Everybody’s excited about learning,” says Federman.

The goal of the SEAL model is to make kids fall in love with language. And not just English. In this approach, parents are also encouraged to keep building their kids’ first language, reading to them at home to help them become truly bilingual.

But perhaps the most important — and challenging — piece of the new model is retraining teachers.

“It’s over a two-and-a-half-year period,”says Paula Cornia, the English learner administrator for the Oak Grove district. “And it’s very intense, but it’s very successful. I’ve never seen a program this successful.”

Just last year, California adopted a new framework for English learners. It calls for all teachers to chip in to a “whole school” effort, like the one at Miner Elementary. This could give English learners a lot more practice in using academic language.

“To have English language development within the content itself, as core in your content classes and demonstrate to teachers that they really need to attend to language as they communicate their content, that’s a nuance that had not been so prevalent, so noticeable, so blatant,” says Elena Fajardo, administrator for the state Department of Education’s Language Policy and Leadership Office. “The extent to which it is necessary has become very clear.”

Counties and districts across the state are retraining teachers on how to deliver language instruction while teaching other subject matter.

The Luque siblings walk home from school. From left, Valentin, Jose Daniel, Angel, and Lidia.
The Luque siblings walk home from school. From left, Valentin, Jose Daniel, Angel, and Lidia. (Jeremy Raff/KQED)

That could be good news for younger kids like Angel. His mom, Veronica Luque, is counting on her children’s schools to help secure the family’s future.

“The best legacy that we can give them is helping them in their education, so they can go to college and have a good job and not struggle in the hot sun like their dad does, just to pay the rent and buy food,” says Mrs. Luque in Spanish. “I want them to have an office job or the option to work from home if they want to and earn money without struggling.”

This year, the Luques’ youngest son, Valentin, started kindergarten. He’s one of thousands of new English learners entering the system: another chance for the state to get it right with this next generation of Californians.

This the third story in a three-part series about what it will take for California to succeed with the nearly one-and-a-half million students in public schools who are learning English as a second language.

To read about Angel’s oldest sister Lidia and her success in school, go here.

To read about Angel’s eighth-grade brother, Jose Daniel, and his struggle to be considered proficient in English, go here.

This story was reported in collaboration with Renaissance Journalism’s Equity Reporting Project: Restoring the Promise of Education, with funding from the Ford Foundation.

Zaidee Stavely contributed to this story.

 

Original posted by: KQED