This blog was first published yesterday (May 14) in Valerie Strauss's Washington Post column, "The Answer Sheet." See it here.
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One
of the many frustrating things about education policy and practice in our
country is the continual search for the magic bullet—and all the hype and trite
lingo that bursts up around it. One such
bullet is the latest incarnation of character education, particularly the
enthrallment with “grit,” a buzz word for perseverance and determination. Readers of this blog are familiar with my
concerns and can read my earlier posts by clicking here,
or go to a 2014
report on character and opportunity from the Brookings Institution in which
I have a brief cautionary essay.
In
a nutshell, I worry about the limited success of past attempts at character
education and the danger in our pendulum-swing society that we will shift our
attention from improving subject matter instruction. I also question the easy distinctions made
between “cognitive” and “non-cognitive” skills.
And I fear that we will sacrifice policies aimed at reducing poverty for
interventions to change the way poor people see the world.
In
this post, I would like to further explore these concerns—and a few new ones—by
focusing on “grit,” for it has so captured the fancy of our policy makers,
administrators, and opinion-makers.
Grit’s
rise to glory is something to behold, a case study in the sociology of
knowledge. If you go back ten or so
years, you’ll find University of Pennsylvania psychologist Angela Duckworth
investigating the role of perseverance in achievement. This idea is not new in the study of
personality and individual differences, but Duckworth was trying to more
precisely define and isolate perseverance or persistence as an important
personality trait via factor analysis, a standard statistical tool in
personality psychology. Through a series
of studies of high-achieving populations (for example, Penn undergraduates,
West Point cadets, Spelling Bee champions), Duckworth and her colleagues
demonstrated that this perseverance quality might be distinct from other
qualities (such as intelligence or self control) and seemed to account for
between 1.4 to 6.3 percent of all that goes into the achievements of those
studied. (Later studies would find
several higher percentages.) These
findings suggest that over ninety percent of her populations’ achievements are
accounted for by other personal, familial, environmental, and cultural factors,
but, still, her findings are important and make a contribution to the academic
study of personality—and support a commonsense belief that hard work over time
pays off.
It
is instructive to read Duckworth’s foundational scholarly articles, something I
suspect few staffers and no policy makers have done. The articles are revealing in their listing
of qualifications and limitations: The original studies rely on self-report
questionnaires, so can be subject to error and bias. The studies are correlational, so do not
demonstrate causality. The exceptional
qualities of some of the populations studied can create problems for factor
analysis. Perseverance might have a
downside to it. The construct of
perseverance has been studied in some fashion for over a century.
But
Duckworth and her colleagues did something that in retrospect was a brilliant
marketing strategy, a master stroke of branding—or re-branding. Rather than calling their construct
“perseverance” or “persistence,” they chose to call it “grit.” Can you think of a name that has more
resonance in American culture? The
fighter who is all heart. The
hardscrabble survivor. True Grit. The Little Train That Could.
Grit
exploded. New York Times
commentators, best-selling journalists, the producers of This American Life,
Secretary of Education Arne Duncan, educational policy makers and
administrators all saw the development of grit as a way to improve American
education and, more pointedly, to improve the achievement of poor children who,
everyone seemed to assume, lacked grit.
I’ll
get to that last part about poor kids in a moment, but first I want to ask some
questions few policy makers are asking.
What is an education suitable for a democracy? What kind of people are we trying to
develop? What is our philosophy of
education? With these questions in mind,
let’s consider some items taken from the two instruments Duckworth and
colleagues have used in their studies.
The items are listed under grit’s two subscales, the factors that
comprise grit:
Consistency of Interests Subscale:
·
New ideas and projects sometimes distract me
from previous ones.
·
I have been obsessed with a certain idea or
project for a short time but later lost interest.
·
I often set a goal but later choose to pursue a
different one.
Perseverance of Effort Subscale:
·
Setbacks don’t discourage me.
·
I finish whatever I begin.
·
I have achieved a goal that took years of work.
These items are answered on a
five-point scale:
Very much like me
Mostly like me
Somewhat like me
Not much like me
Not like me at all
Let
me repeat here what I’ve written in every other commentary on grit. Of course, perseverance is an important
characteristic. I cherish it in my
friends and my students. But at certain ages and certain times
in our lives, exploration and testing new waters can also contribute to one’s
development and achievement. Knowing
when something is not working is important as well. Perseverance and determination as represented
in the grit questionnaires could suggest a lack of flexibility, tunnel vision,
an inability to learn from mistakes.
Again, my point is not to dismiss perseverance but to suggest that
perseverance, or grit, or any quality works in tandem with other qualities in
the well-functioning and ethical person.
By focusing so heavily on grit, character education in some settings has
been virtually reduced to a single quality, and probably not the best quality
in the content of character. The items
in the grit instruments could describe the brilliant surgeon who is a distant
and absent parent, or, for that fact, the smart, ambitious, amoral people who
triggered the Great Recession. (Macbeth with his “vaulting ambition” would
score quite high on grit.) Education in
America has to be about more than producing driven super-achievers. For that fact, a discussion of what we mean
by “achievement” is long overdue.
But,
of course, a good deal of the discussion of grit doesn’t really involve all
students. Regardless of disclaimers, the
primary audience for our era’s character education is poor kids. As I and a host of others have written, a
focus on individual characteristics of low-income children can take our
attention away from the structural inequalities they face. Some proponents of character education have
pretty much said that an infusion of grit will achieve what social and economic
interventions cannot.
Can
I make a recommendation? Along with the
grit survey, let us give another survey and see what the relationship is
between the scores. I’m not sure what to
call this new survey, but it would provide a measure of adversity, of impediments
to persistence, concentration, and the like.
It, too, would use a five-point response scale: “very much like me” to
“not much like me.” Its items would
include:
·
I always have bus fare to get to school.
·
I hear my parents talking about not having
enough money for the rent.
·
Whenever I get sick, I am able to go to a
doctor.
·
We always have enough food in our home.
·
I worry about getting to school safely.
·
There are times when I have to stay home to care
for younger brothers or sisters.
·
My school has honors and Advanced Placement
classes.
·
I have at least one teacher who cares about me.
My
guess is that higher impediment scores would be linked to lower scores on the
grit survey. I realize that what grit
advocates want is to help young people better cope with such hardship. Anyone who has worked seriously with kids in
tough circumstances spends a lot of time providing support and advice, and if
grit interventions can provide an additional resource, great. But if as a society we are not also working
to improve the educational and economic realities these young people face, then
we are engaging in a cruel hoax, building aspiration and determination for a
world that will not fulfill either.
The
foundational grit research primarily involved populations of elite high
achievers—Ivy League students, West Point cadets, National Spelling Bee
contestants—and people responding to a Positive Psychology website based at the
University of Pennsylvania. It is from
the latter population that the researchers got a wider range of ages and data
on employment history.
I
was not able to find socioeconomic information for these populations, but given
what we know generally about Ivy League undergraduates, West Point cadets,
etc., I think it is a safe guess that most come from stable economic
backgrounds. (In one later study,
Duckworth and colleagues drew on 7-11 grade students at a “socioeconomically
and ethnically diverse magnet public school” where 18% of the students were
low-income—that’s some economic diversity, but not a school with concentrated
disadvantage.) It is also safe to assume
that the majority of the people who are interested in Positive Psychology and
self-select to respond to an on-line questionnaire have middle-class employment
histories with companies or in professions that have pathways and mechanisms
for advancement. So the construct of
grit and the instruments to measure it are largely based on populations that
more likely than not are able to pursue their interests and goals along a
landscape of resources and opportunity.
This does not detract from the effort they expend or from their
determination, but it does suggest that their grit is deployed in a world quite
different from the world poor people inhabit.
It
is hard to finish what you begin when food and housing are unstable, or when
you have three or four teachers in a given year, or when there are few people
around who are able to guide and direct you.
It is equally hard to pursue a career with consistency when the jobs
available to you are low-wage, short-term and vulnerable, and have few if any
benefits or protections. This certainly
doesn’t mean that people who are poor lack determination and resolve. Some of the poor people I knew growing up or
work with today possess off-the-charts determination to survive, put food on
the table, care for their kids. But they
wouldn’t necessarily score high on the grit scale.
Personality
psychology by its disciplinary norms concentrates on the individual, but
individual traits and qualities, regardless of how they originate and develop,
manifest themselves in social and institutional contexts. Are we educators and policy makers creating
classrooms that are challenging and engaging enough to invite
perseverance? Are we creating
opportunity for further educational or occupational programs that enable
consistency of effort? Are we gritty
enough to keep working toward these goals without distraction over the long
haul?
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