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III. CURRICULUM OFFERINGS AND STUDENT ASSIGNMENTS: FINDINGS FROM OUR FIELD WORK



In this section we describe what we learned during our year of fieldwork about the curriculum and the dynamics of student assignment at the three schools. Most striking in what follows is how similar our schools were in their curriculum priorities and in the factors that
influence the various paths students take through the curriculum--in their cultures of curriculum differentiation. Within the overall pattern of sameness, however, we see important differences--differences that relate to characteristics of the students that each school serves.


CURRICULAR SIMILARITIES

Given the many differences among Coolidge, Washington, and McKinley High Schools and their students, we were struck by a number of curriculum similarities among them. All three schools had a strong commitment to the comprehensive high school that pressed them to offer a wide array of academic courses ranging in difficulty level from remedial to advanced placement. Each school offered vocational programs that ranged from those allowing students to earn credit for work experience or school service programs to highly technical and occupationally specific training. Although not comprehensive, vocational programs at each school included both general/nonoccupational subjects (e.g., cooking, parenting, typing) and job-specific training (e.g., auto shop). Students at all three schools also had access to a wide variety of courses as part of a state regional occupational program.

At all three schools, however, the "squeeze on elective programs" resulting from increased graduation and university admission requirements had reduced the number of vocational offerings. Their vocational programs were less comprehensive than in the past and constituted a relatively small percentage of the total curriculum. None has or purports to have a cohesive, comprehensive vocational "program." Rather, except for business-oriented classes and the occupation-specific programs offered by the regional centers, vocational education was a loose configuration of classes offering the most general, often introductory skills. Many courses suffered from equipment shortages or used "antiquated" equipment. At Coolidge, one administrator told us that the shops' equipment and technology were basically unchanged since being built in the 1950s. And, at all three schools we encountered similarly negative perceptions of the role and quality of the vocational curriculum, of the faculty who taught those courses, and of the students who took them. Despite these similarities, however, the curriculum at the three schools differed in ways that followed national trends. The more "advantaged" the school in terms of its student population, the more advantaged was its curriculum.

The schools were also similar in that each had a well-articulated set of policies and procedures for determining the best match between its students and the courses it offered. However, at each school, more subtle, informal processes also worked to affect students' assignments to various classes. As we describe below, both the formal and informal processes seemed to limit the curriculum opportunities of the least advantaged students in the schools.


PREDICTABLE CURRICULUM DIFFERENCES

Consistent with national data, the curriculum at affluent Washington High was the richest of our three high schools in both the academic and vocational domains. Although Washington offered somewhat fewer academic classes overall, it offered more advanced-level and honors courses than did either Coolidge or McKinley and fewer low-level academic courses. The lower percentage of academic courses in the total school curriculum (46 percent compared to 58 percent at the other two schools) also reflected the school's effort to provide all students with a comprehensive program by requiring two courses in "practical arts" for graduation. Practical arts courses were defined as either general or occupationally specific vocational education courses or computer science. In addition to their on-campus offerings, access to a well-developed regional vocational center enhanced Washington students' vocational education opportunities far beyond what could be supported by the school alone.

In rather striking contrast to Washington, the curriculum offerings were the least well developed at McKinley, our low-income, high-minority high school. McKinley's 65 scheduled vocational classes contrasted sharply with Coolidge's 28 and Washington's 36. Yet, despite the greater number of classes offered, McKinley's program was far less developed or articulated than Washington's. McKinley's seven two-year course sequences compared unfavorably with Washington's seven two-year sequences and four longer ones. Moreover, although McKinley was connected to the same regional vocational school as Washington, two school policies constrained students from attending. First, of all three of our schools, McKinley required the greatest number of academic courses for graduation. These requirements made freeing up the three-hour blocks required by the regional center a near impossibility for students. Second, a generally chaotic atmosphere on campus prompted administrators to discourage students from leaving for any reason--even to attend the regional center. In spite of these constraints, the greatest overall vocational coursetaking took place at McKinley.

Opportunities at Coolidge, our school with a mixed population, fell somewhere in between the other two. Although the school listed a diverse array of vocational courses, its stringent academic graduation requirements prevented many of these courses, especially the advanced sections, from being offered. The offerings in the regional occupational program to which Coolidge is attached were somewhat more limited than at the center serving the other two schools, but counselors reported that a slightly larger percentage of students at Coolidge took advantage of these opportunities.

In general, our study schools are quite like their "comparison" schools--schools serving similar student bodies--in the total number of credits they require for graduation, in their core academic requirements, in the percentage of academic courses meeting college entrance requirements, and in the proportion of the academic curriculum devoted to honors and advanced placement courses.[23] In none of our study schools were vocational courses permitted to substitute for academic classes in meeting graduation requirements. Both Coolidge and Washington followed the pattern of the majority of schools in their comparison groups. McKinley, on the other hand, was unlike many other high-minority, high-poverty schools in that it did not allow students to take vocational courses in place of academic requirements (only 9 of the 22 schools prohibited substitutions). Both McKinley and the other two schools, however, offered similar types and numbers of vocational classes on campus as did those schools with whom they were compared.

The larger groups of schools also reflected the same differences in their vocational programs that we found among our three case study schools. The group of schools at the low end of the socioeconomic spectrum was generally more likely to enroll their students into large numbers of beginning-level vocational courses and general academic courses than were other schools. In contrast, the more affluent groups of schools tended to offer students a richer mix--more rigorous academic courses and richer, better developed vocational course sequences. Consequently, we believe that the curriculum at our case study schools is quite representative of schools with similar student bodies, and that the differences among these school types are fairly typical.

Not only did we examine these quantifiable characteristics of the curriculum at our case study and comparison schools, we also examined staff expectations for the students and their perceptions of the range and quality of their curriculum. Additionally, we considered other features of the schools likely to affect both the range of course offerings and staff perceptions of curriculum quality: organization and style of management, the morale of faculty and staff, and local traditions or history. These more subtle features also suggested that the greatest curriculum advantages were available to students in the most advantaged schools.[24]


THE DYNAMICS OF STUDENT ASSIGNMENTS

All three schools had well-defined, formal placement policies that relied on judgments about students' abilities and decisions about their educational needs. A mix of students' coursetaking history, grades, test scores, and students' own course preferences served to determine the best curriculum path for each student. In the attempt to involve students and their families in the decisionmaking process, counselors at each school articulated alternatives to feeder junior high schools and to individual families. Additionally, at the end of each year we had students indicate their course preferences for the following September. Usually this involved meeting with students in their classroom and asking them to fill out forms indicating their choices.

Despite these formal procedures, counselors at all three schools expressed considerable discomfort with the placement process. The large number of students assigned to each counselor, the activism of parents of college-bound students, and the severe personal and
academic problems that many students face combined to erode the time counselors had to spend ensuring fair and appropriate assignments for all of their students. Consequently, the guidance and placement structure at each school seemed to serve least well untroubled students who were not college-bound. Additionally, at each school administrators, counselors, and teachers told us (with considerable regret) that the counseling and placement processes seemed to result in race and social-class differences in the composition of various classes and programs. Below, we examine the dynamics at the three schools that contributed to these patterns.


Perceptions That Ability Is Fixed

We were struck by the pervasiveness of the belief that by the time students reach senior high school (and probably long before), their abilities and aspirations are fixed. We found little evidence that educators at any of the three schools thought that the courses students took could or should attempt to increase students' abilities or raise their expectations.

Coolidge's faculty and administrators' comments about the expectations of and for the students, their sense of student needs, and their perception of the role of schools in meeting those needs clearly illustrate this core belief. The principal, for example, told us that kindergarten teachers can accurately identify those children who will be "at-risk" in high school, conveying his own sense that the high school is largely powerless to interrupt predictable patterns. His views were almost universally held among faculty. One Coolidge counselor reported that high school teachers generally believe that once a student gets to high school, he or she is either intrinsically motivated or not, and this level of motivation cannot be changed.

To test the extent of this assumption, we asked respondents at all of our schools to give us an example of a student "who comes to this school with low-level skills and makes fairly dramatic improvements--for example, moves from general to college-prep classes." Of 20 Coolidge teachers interviewed, only six could recall such a student. A teacher with a long tenure at the school recalled one student "probably 25 years ago." Another said this sort of improvement "is rare, . . . real problem kids are neglected here, . . . hidden in slow classes. The good kids are taken care of." One teacher said students could move if they were placed in the "wrong level, . . . not the true level of the student," indicating that she believed students have relatively immutable ability levels, and that mobility between classes at different levels results from selection errors, not student change. Sharing this belief, another teacher predicted that his average students, although they might be successful once they left high school, would never move to the college track, and that they would raise kids just like them--that is, kids who also disliked school.

Comments at the other two high schools further demonstrated the pervasiveness of this view. At McKinley, only two of the twelve teachers interviewed supplied specific instances of students who made dramatic improvements, although a few teachers identified classes or groups that had made exceptional progress in specific courses. Teachers' perceptions of the likelihood of a student actually making such an improvement ranged from "slim to impossible" to "rare" to "possible." Several teachers commented that help was available, but that it was up to the individual student to take advantage of it. One teacher attributed his pessimism to this very reliance on student initiative, saying, "the commitment to individuals is not here. A student who is failing has to get involved with the school's program before the school will invest in the student."

Seven of the 18 Washington teachers cited examples of individuals who had improved. Here, though, teachers' estimates of the likelihood of student improvement varied more. A number pointed to the quality of Washington's program and to the supportive, "nurturing" nature of many teachers as factors that increased students' opportunities for improvement; but many of them also emphasized that students must want to achieve and must put forth effort before improvement was possible. Many who gave examples attributed improvement to the students' development of a (serendipitous) interest in a particular subject, to maturity, or to exceptional effort resulting from a strong desire to attend college. A number of teachers held little hope for improvement, either because students lacked essential basic skills or because the students held negative attitudes that "were difficult to break through." As one teacher put it, "[of those] kids who learn to fail early . . . the majority never pick themselves up." These comments suggest a corollary to this proposition: To the extent that schools recognize the potential for improvement in a high school student, the responsibility for improvement is on the student.


Tailoring the Curriculum to the Student Body

It is not surprising, given this perception of stability in students' intellectual capacity, that the schools saw their job as developing curriculum offerings that accommodate their students' abilities and needs. This accommodation seems to happen in two ways. First, within the constraints of state policy requirements, educators try to offer courses in academic and vocational subjects that match their view of the student body's needs as a whole. The overall differences in the three schools' curriculum offerings that we noted above stem, in part, from the effort by the schools to offer what they perceived their student bodies to need.

Second, providing different "tracks" or "ability levels" of classes in academic subjects was seen by the schools as the most appropriate way to accommodate students' various capacities and needs. Because the prevailing view was that high school students' abilities are virtually intractable, lower-level classes were not talked about as providing opportunities for students to "catch up" with their higher-achieving peers. To the contrary, these classes were considered places where students with less ability would have a chance to succeed because the material was at their "level."

On the vocational side of the curriculum, counselors and vocational educators told us that college-prep students were most likely to take general skills courses such as typing, or business courses such as accounting. However, widespread negative perceptions about vocational education, combined with the absence of an aggressive counseling system for non-college-bound students, acted synergistically to drain the little remaining vitality and cohesion from other vocational offerings and to cluster those students in the lowest positions on the academic side of the schools' curriculum in more mechanically oriented vocational courses. For example, a surprising number of administrators, counselors, and teachers confessed that they sometimes considered their on-campus courses like auto and wood shop to be "dumping grounds" (a term heard frequently during our study) for low-level students, especially those with behavior problems. As a result, some classes were overloaded with problem students, which stigmatized the course and, in turn, lowered its ability to attract higher-level students. The generally low enrollments in vocational education compounded these problems because vocational teachers felt pressure to accept any student assigned, whereas other teachers were more likely to fail students or refuse them admission to their classes.

These patterns of vocational enrollments seem to bring about more tracking than originally intended. Numerous respondents identified groups of students who proceeded through the day together, although most agreed that such grouping was not intentional and that few, if any, students were identifiable as "voc ed students," in the sense that they were pursuing a coherent sequence of vocational courses.


Judgments of Merit and Motivation Drive Track Placements

The educators we talked with almost uniformly attributed student assignments to students' own choices, motivation, and prior school performance. At each school, students were asked to indicate their preference for academic, vocational, and other elective courses. This choice-making process was most elaborate as students made the transition from junior to senior high school. Parents were often involved through evening meetings at the feeder junior highs, wherein the high school counselors would explain the various options in the curriculum and the prerequisites for various classes. Students' choices were added to a store of information about them that, as a whole, determined where they would be placed. However, as the counselors discussed the placement process with us, students' choices played little role in their final placements. As described below, when courses had established academic prerequisites, a combination of test scores, grades in prior courses, and teachers' recommendations were used to determine whether a student had met them. In courses without academic prerequisites, students' choices were honored.

Counselors at Coolidge routinely placed incoming students in their academic classes on the basis of the student's eighth grade Comprehensive Test of Basic Skills (CTBS) scores, grades, and their prior teachers' recommendations. Middle-school teachers recommended fast-, medium-, or slow-track placement in English, social studies, and science, and recommended placement in a specific math course. When a disparity existed between other criteria and the teacher's recommendation, the teacher's recommendation prevailed.

Placement procedures at Washington and McKinley followed similar processes. Counselors at Washington considered the same information as those at Coolidge. Test results and grades affected Washington placements directly for some courses: In eighth grade and all subsequent grades, students failing a portion of the district proficiency exam were placed in remedial lab classes, and students passing an admissions test were placed in honors classes. (However, the honors test is waived for students earning an A in the previous honors course, and sometimes for students whose parents specifically request honors placement.) Test performance in one area guided placement in other subjects. For example, students enrolled in the reading lab (on the basis of their English proficiency) were placed in remedial social studies. Similarly, math test performance guided science class placement, a practice that often led to erroneous placement according to the science teachers interviewed.

As at Coolidge, Washington counselors also obtained teachers' recommendations for placements in math and science courses, and for honors, remedial, or ESL placement in English and social studies. Middle-school teachers evaluated students on the quality of their work, study habits, and any special aptitudes (e.g., arts, athletics, leadership). At Washington, test results received more weight than teacher recommendations, but in borderline cases teachers' recommendations were weighted "very highly."

At McKinley, 8th graders met with their counselor to complete their fall schedules. The counselor used achievement test scores and the teacher's course recommendations to guide the student. After the freshman year, course grades formed the primary basis for placement, although teachers could recommend placement in core subjects.


Track Placements Remain Stable

Once placed in a particular track or ability level of a course, students tend to be placed similarly in subsequent years. At Coolidge, more than one respondent told us that track movement, when it occurs, is usually from a higher to a lower track. For instance, Coolidge offers an extended, two-year version of algebra 1 called introductory algebra. The math teachers interviewed estimated that 20 percent of the students moved down to life math or business math after the first year; whereas less than 10 percent went on to the algebra 2 course after completing the two-year introductory algebra series. These teachers also described systematic placement into math courses based on test results and teacher recommendations. When students wished to enroll in higher-level courses than the level indicated, their parents were required to sign a waiver eliminating teacher responsibility and agreeing to the stipulation that an F received in the course would stand. For students wishing to move to a lower-level course, teachers discouraged such moves, but the student made the decision. Teachers in other areas also told us that honors and AP students dropped courses because the courses were "too tough" or students feared lowering their GPA.

The likelihood of any track mobility being in a downward direction was most prevalent at Washington and McKinley, although differences were observed between the three schools. Judging by our interviews with faculty and administrators, Washington appeared to have a less-rigid tracking system than Coolidge, perhaps as a consequence of their more homogeneous student population. A number of teachers provided examples of students making dramatic improvements. English teachers said that most of the remedial students routinely moved into regular courses upon passing the proficiency examination. One counselor described looking for students with high test scores whose grades start dropping and her efforts to intervene to get them out of remedial classes. Nonetheless, movement between tracks was uncommon. One student commented that "the average person just stays in the same level all the way through." Teachers expressed reluctance to move students out of remedial classes or tracks. For example, completion of remedial U.S. history often led to automatic placement in remedial economics. One teacher estimated that only "three or four times during the past seven or eight years" were requests made to transfer students out of his remedial classes. He observed as many instances of honors students requesting downward transfers in half as many years--requests he attributed to students' fear of failure. Likewise, in science downward movement was more frequent than upward movement. Of students completing the biology class, a middle-level science course, approximately 40 percent take a comparable-level physics course, 60 percent move to a lower-level fundamentals of physics course, and one or two students move to honors physics.

McKinley's system of course offerings was less hierarchical than at Coolidge. Even so, ability grouping persisted, even after a "no tracking" policy was enacted during the 1988-1989 school year. In English and social studies, all courses met university admissions requirements, but there was differentiation between AP, honors, regular, and ESL classes. Math and science courses were differentiated into levels by course names. Since these departments had the most stratified programs, cross-track mobility usually affected math or science placement. Again, movement seemed to be rare, and when it occurred, the direction generally was downward rather than upward.

Curriculum sequences and prerequisites limited students' opportunities as well. Although many of the examples of students making dramatic improvement involved foreign students, we learned from a counselor at Coolidge that these students faced difficulties in meeting college admissions requirements because they must complete ESL courses before moving on to courses that qualified for college entrance. A Washington counselor described access to college-prep science courses as highly competitive. Because many students signed up for the courses, and the science teachers were senior faculty with a great deal of influence, the screening process is stiff. Students placed in the general track classes had little opportunity to develop "the discipline of study habits," and therefore were less likely to be placed in the more rigorous course. Lack of prerequisites limits students' access to high-track courses at McKinley as well. For instance, placement in general chemistry, an 11th grade course, is contingent on successful completion of algebra and physical science. However, students taking Math A and Math B did not take algebra until 11th grade and, as we mentioned above, only a small percentage of these students actually went on to algebra.

In addition to barriers erected by course sequences and prerequisites, barriers to students' track mobility may be raised at the district or state level. For example, a math teacher at Washington described a district-mandated modification in course offerings to meet state model curriculum guidelines. One change was the revision of a low-level general math course from a two-year to a one-year course. The teacher noted that the two-year sequence had given a number of students the necessary algebra foundation to move to college-track math, and that she currently had two students in her trigonometry course who had made such a gain. To move into the college-prep track, these students took the two-year course in 9th and 10th grades, geometry in 11th grade, algebra 2 in summer school, and then were enrolled in trigonometry in 12th grade. This teacher was concerned that the new one-year course would not allow adequate time for students to absorb the amount of theory necessary to shift into the higher math tracks.

One teacher at McKinley described an even more troubling policy barrier--one that had recently limited summer school to remedial courses open only to those students who failed classes during the year. This policy, she reported, permitted a small group of students who had failed geometry and retaken it in summer school to become interested in math. However, such a policy precludes the type of improvement the students were able to make at Washington. Thus, this Coolidge teacher lamented the district's failure to reinstitute a comprehensive summer school, in place of the present remedial one, so that students would have more opportunity to move up.


Race, Social Class, and Student Assignments

At each school, perceptions of students' suitability for classes at various track levels were confounded with race, ethnicity, and social class. As a result, at each school racial groups often became identified with particular tracks--a circumstance perpetuated by the stability of students' placements throughout their high school years.

Most striking, Asians, nearly uniformly considered highly capable and motivated, were strongly identified with the high tracks at all three schools. One Coolidge honors class teacher observed, for example, that his current class was almost three-fourths Asian, that over the years he had had fewer and fewer white students, and had not had a Latino student in the class for more than seven years. This association was not unique to Washington. At McKinley, where Asians constituted a very small fraction of the student body, teachers also identified Asians with college-prep and AP academic courses. Latinos, almost always judged as the least well-suited for academic work, were most often associated with low-track academic courses and vocational programs. For example, most teachers at Coolidge reported a disproportionately large number of Latinos in the ESL, remedial, and low-level courses and a disproportionately small number of Latinos in the upper-level courses. White students at Coolidge and Washington seemed to rank somewhat below Asians, and at both Coolidge and McKinley, blacks were typically viewed as more able to handle academic courses than Latinos.

On the vocational side of the curriculum, business courses were seen as attractive to and appropriate for a wide range of students. A number of respondents told us that many white, middle-class, college-prep students took business courses to acquire the general typing and computing skills they would need for college. But, in general (and in concert with the lower academic expectations for low-income, African American, and Latino students), other types of vocational courses, particularly general shop classes and those training for specific occupations such as cosmetology, were thought to be most appropriate for low-income, Latino, and (to some extent) African American students, because these groups were not seen as college-bound. Interestingly, at all-minority McKinley, a number of teachers associated Latino students, rather than African Americans, with vocational education, noting that for this group employment after high school was a major goal.

Many teachers denied any direct link between race/ethnicity and course placement, or, as a McKinley teacher put it, "If there is, it is not deliberate." Such assertions are not entirely unfounded. Latinos, as a group, did score lower on standardized tests than did other groups at the two schools. And Asians, as a group, at both Coolidge and Washington, outscored other groups in mathematics achievement. But, global judgments made about students who belong to these groups went far beyond students' past achievement. At their most extreme, these judgments reflected stereotypical views about differences between racial groups.

Most respondents explained the relationship between students' race and social-class characteristics and their course assignments in terms of group differences in support, motivation, and interest. For example, one Coolidge teacher linked wealth with increased parent involvement, which does affect placement. "Poverty does tend to make a difference because the parents are less involved in the child's education." A Coolidge administrator told us that although wealth was not related to academic placement, having a "two-parent strong family" (a factor affecting student wealth) increased the likelihood of kids being in the tougher academic classes.

Many faculty attributed Asians' placement in higher-level classes to effort. For example, at Washington High School, which has a large and growing cohort of Asian immigrants (Asians constitute almost 30 percent of the student population), one teacher commented: "I love classes with lots of Orientals; there are no discipline problems, they are motivated." Another teacher said that he was the "only Caucasian in the classroom--all the white kids went to the beach," while the Asians attended his summer school classes. One Coolidge teacher noted "[they] work longer and harder . . . they study seven hours a day, six days a week." This teacher, along with a number of others, attributed the Asian students' work ethic to "cultural expectations." A science teacher at Washington made a similar judgment about recent Asian immigrants. He had recently asked that immigrants from Brazil and French-speaking Canada be transferred into lower-level classes because their poor English skills made the material difficult. However, he believed that Asians with limited English-speaking skills should be retained in the class, since they would "network" to keep up with the material. At all three schools, we were told of the extraordinary motivation and abilities of Asian students. Faculty seem to assume that these students will attend four-year colleges and universities.

Latino students suffered the most negative judgments about their culture's impact on school effort and motivation and, as a consequence, on their class placements. Educators at all three schools characterized Latinos as having poor basic skills and low interest in school, and as being culturally disinclined to aspire to postsecondary education. One Coolidge teacher said that Latinos, as a result of the way they were raised, do not want to learn and view school only as something to get away from. Another attributed their low representation in higher-level courses (and minority students' failure to work up to their potential, generally) to their home environment and lack of parental support. Other teachers and administrators mentioned the transiency of the Latino population at Coolidge. One administrator estimated that 20% of the students were highly mobile or frequently absent because of family obligations.

One counselor at all-minority McKinley attributed the disproportionate representation of Latinos in vocational education to the value placed on vocational education by the Latino community. In a similar vein, a teacher at the school blamed students' self-perceptions, noting that minority, particularly Latino, students were "prejudiced within themselves about their expectations for themselves . . . they feel there is an ethnic path chosen for them." As an example, he related the story of a student who thought she should become a secretary, so the counselor accepted this choice and steered her on a secretarial path despite the student's high potential. Another McKinley teacher expressed his frustration with Latino students with college ability who appeared to have their minds set on entering the workforce immediately after high school. However, one McKinley teacher distinguished between two groups of Latinos on campus--one group characterized as large and highly motivated, and a second, smaller group of less-motivated students. A few others identified Latinos with AP courses. Perhaps this mix of perceptions relates to the fact that across the entire student population (large numbers of whom drop out between grades 10 and 12), we found only small differences in tested achievement between African Americans and Latinos who remained in school through the 12th grade.

At Washington, little mention was made of the academic track placements of the few African Americans or Latinos. However, one teacher noted that the African American and Latino students did not fit the gang member stereotype because of their high socioeconomic status and that both groups "did all right." However, another teacher, who was half Latino, commented on Latinos' absence from higher-level courses and their "invisibility" on campus.

A number of respondents at both Washington and Coolidge cited the lack of effort and academic motivation among white students as a primary factor in determining their course placement. One Coolidge administrator, referring to white students, described a "type" of student in low-level courses as the "able but lazy" student. A second Coolidge administrator characterized middle-class white kids as apathetic, "smart, but spoiled . . . never had to apply themselves." A Washington teacher observed that white students' "interests seem to lie more outside of academic achievement than the Asian kids'."

Global judgments about the capacity and educational needs of various racial groups were particularly evident when Coolidge and Washington faculty described how curricular changes follow, or should follow demographic changes in the school population.

As noted above, Coolidge's student body consisted almost entirely of white, upper-, and upper-middle-class students in the 1970s (30 percent immigrant and second-generation Latino, 14 percent African American, 12 percent Asian, and 44 percent Anglo). During these changes faculty have been relatively stable, with many current members having taught at Coolidge throughout this period. Some faculty saw the increase in ethnic diversity as providing, in the words of one teacher, a "marvelous mix," whereas others are less positive. Nearly all, however, perceived a decline in student ability and motivation and thought that curriculum changes had accommodated this decline. One Coolidge teacher told us that there used to be two fast-track classes to every slow one, but now the ratio was reversed. A counselor echoed this perception, stating "What we now consider [to be an] average [class] used to be slow."

These changes at Coolidge have generated much discussion about what constitutes the "appropriate" curriculum or range of curricula--both vocational and academic--for the schools' new group of students. Most faculty and students believe that Coolidge provides a consistently high-quality program for college-bound students. At the same time, there is growing concern that this curriculum no longer serves the needs of many students.[25]

However, the Coolidge staff members were not uniform in their view of the types of curriculum changes needed to respond to the new mix of students. One teacher suggested that outdated policies promoting honors classes needed to change with the times, meaning that more "slow" classes should be made available. Another teacher identified discrepancies between the state's model curriculum and the number of "lower"-level courses offered at Coolidge but felt that it was "difficult to raise standards because of the kids." One counselor said that he was trying to implement a program of more vocationally oriented academic courses. Despite this mix of views about what changes were needed, nearly everyone agreed that changes to date had been slow and unresponsive to students' needs. One district official described Coolidge's resistance to curriculum change as a "valley of inertia."

At Washington, both administrators and teachers attributed an increase in the number of math and science courses offered, especially upper-level courses, to the influx of Asian students. Also, teachers reported that Asian parents did not support student coursetaking in sports, practical arts, or vocational education, and pushed to have their children removed from ESL courses. For example, a group of mostly Asian parents and students opposed the one-year practical arts requirement at Washington; their opposition resulted in a policy change whereby students could receive practical arts credit for completing computer courses offered by the math department. Such changes were clearly a response to demands placed on the school. But it was also clear that these changes were made willingly, in part, because the parents' wishes coincided with prevailing school assumptions about the abilities and needs of Asian students.

Despite the predominant view that race and social class affected student assignments only indirectly--through group differences in parent support and student motivations and effort--some faculty felt that the tracking system permitted blatant discrimination. One English teacher showed us a list of students who, according to their previous teacher, were "misplaced" in the fast track. She considered the previous teacher prejudiced, noting that many students on the list were Latino and "50 percent of the kids on this list belong in the fast class, they're doing the work." On the other hand, she had identified a number of white students with "glaring deficiencies" whose names did not appear on the list.


Ambivalence About Tracking

Despite the prevailing view that tracking was necessary to accommodate students' differences and the widespread conviction that assignments were made fairly, many at the schools felt considerable discomfort about how the tracked curriculum and assignment criteria promoted race- and class-related differences in course placements. Others expressed considerable ambivalence about tracking practices generally.

The obvious links between course assignment and students' status characteristics caused ambivalence and discomfort for some. As one Coolidge counselor put it when asked about students from different groups enrolled in different tracks, "I don't like the words coming into my head." One Coolidge teacher, after describing the predominantly white and Asian composition of her honors English class, said "Of course, anyone can take the course, because it is a student decision theoretically . . . [but other minority students are] smart enough to know if they are prepared or not for a class."

However, ambivalence about tracking extended beyond concerns with race and social-class sorting. This became apparent in administrators' and counselors' comments related to tracking reforms, a curriculum issue that was salient at all three schools.

Some discomfort was triggered by the likely political consequences of efforts to eliminate tracking. An administrator for Washington described many in the district as "committed to equity," and agreed with the district's plan to eliminate tracking "slowly, but dogmatically." However, she anticipated teachers' and parents' resistance to initial efforts to eliminate tracking of English classes at the high school level. Her expectation was based on the district's experience at the middle school, which had recently detracked. However, strong parent opposition forced the school to retain separate classes for students identified as "gifted."

Other ambivalence stemmed from their uncertainty about the effects of various grouping schemes on students. A McKinley counselor told us that she personally supported grouping most students by ability but believed that students with low ability benefited from a nongrouped system. One Coolidge teacher said that, although heterogeneous grouping was beneficial, since bright students could help the poorer ones, she could give more assistance to low-functioning students in grouped classes. Also, she feared that she would be forced to teach to the middle if all ability levels existed in the same class. Another teacher described herself as being "philosophically against tracking"; however, she worried that her remedial students who made excellent progress in the lab setting would be lost in a regular class. A McKinley teacher, experiencing his first year teaching heterogeneously grouped classes, reported that the effect on his teaching was "devastating." He said he covered less material and found that the lower-level students were "lost" and the higher-level students were "bored." When asked if there were any positive results from the elimination of tracks, he identified the reduction in elitism on campus generally and improvement in the functioning of the below-average students (but not the exceptionally low student).


State Policies Emphasizing Academics Influence Assignments

As noted above, all three schools offered a similarly full range of academic and vocational courses. The similarity in the overall percentage of academic courses offered seems to have had two sources: the state's emphasis on academics and college preparation and the schools' interest in maintaining a comprehensive program. At each school, administrators and counselors took pride in the school's ability to offer both a strong college-preparatory program and an array of other courses, arguing that this arrangement allowed all of its students to follow a path best suited to their abilities and aspirations.

However, some of our respondents felt that these mission-related pressures on the curriculum inhibited their attempts to make the best matches between students and courses. For example, one Coolidge counselor stated his support for the state superintendent's emphasis on every students' right of access to a college-prep curriculum, but countered this support by saying, "not every kid can handle it . . . every kid has [a] right to [the] courses they should be in." One McKinley math teacher lamented the school's insistence on offering calculus given the limited number of qualified students. Even at affluent Washington, one teacher criticized the effects of the state's curriculum emphasis as "unrealistic," since not every kid is college-prep, and not all kids can use higher-level thinking skills.

Despite individual misgivings, state policies affected not only the structure of offerings, they affected students' placements. At both McKinley and Coolidge, respondents indicated that the curriculum structure pressed students who otherwise might be in low-level classes to enroll in college-preparatory courses--a phenomenon that some felt provided minority students with greater access to academic classes. At all-minority McKinley, for example, the principal, assistant principal, and college counselor consistently emphasized the school's enactment of the state's interest in college as the desired postsecondary goal for students. This
focus influenced the school's graduation requirements, course offerings, and the grouping
system. As noted above, the school had instituted a "no tracking" policy, and the college counselor (herself an African American) had worked energetically to have all of McKinley's academic courses meet university entrance requirements. She expressed enormous pride that her actions ensured minority student participation in high-track classes.[26]

College-prep courses constituted the vast majority of the academic courses at Coolidge as well, attributable, in part, to the state's priorities. Even so, because so many of the staff did not see the schools' diverse student body as prepared for college-prep courses, they instituted a range of "levels" of college-preparatory courses. For example, English, social studies, and some science courses are internally classified as fast, medium, or slow college-preparatory sections. These designations (although not recorded on students' transcripts) guided grading practices: students can earn no more than a B in a medium section and no more than a C in a slow section. This policy (albeit hidden from parents and the public) helped teachers feel more comfortable about enrolling "slower" students in college-preparatory courses.

And, as noted above, state policies raising academic requirements for graduation and holding schools accountable for enrolling students in advanced academic courses have been a factor in the decline of vocational education offerings. As a result, schools are less able to assign students to vocational programs, even when they believe (or students believe) that such programs best match their abilities and interests.


DECLINING RESOURCES CONSTRAIN SCHOOLS' CURRICULUM DECISIONS

External changes such as demographic shifts and declining enrollment create resource difficulties that further constrain schools. The problems caused by declining enrollments and reduced funding had the greatest effect on the vocational programs at each of our three schools, but declining resources also affected the ability of the school to pay careful attention to student assignments in both academic and vocational courses.

All three schools felt the "squeeze" of reduced electives because of increased state graduation requirements, a change that has been particularly detrimental to vocational education. This squeeze has taken the form of reduced enrollments in vocational courses, and as a consequence, fewer teacher resources and less funding. At all three schools, the need to maintain minimum enrollments has forced counselors and teachers to abandon prerequisites, to combine introductory and advanced sections, and to retain disruptive students; the decline in resources has meant that the schools have had to make do with outmoded equipment. One administrator pointed to how these changes had led to a discrepancy between philosophy and practice: He noted that district philosophy called for vocational courses that reflect the labor market, but because of "the reality of program survival," classes in electronics, metal, and graphic arts--areas for which there is a market--had been reduced or eliminated, whereas the avocational woodworking classes were maintained and a new woodworking teacher was hired. These classes persisted because they required the least new equipment and because they were seen as more accommodating of students with low ability and behavior problems.

In the face of resource shortages, administrative preferences can exert a powerful influence on curriculum. This was particularly evident in the vocational area where programs had fallen generally out of favor. At our three schools, administrative disposition toward vocational education ranged from supportive at Washington, to more laissez-faire at Coolidge, to hostile at McKinley.

At Washington, the administration responded by creating the two-course "practical arts" requirement, which ensured the preservation of at least some of the schools' vocational offerings. At Coolidge, however, although many perceived their students as needing vocational rather than college preparation, no administrator championed the high school vocational program, neither with policies promoting student enrollments nor by seeking a share of state monies available for special programs. Consequently, individual teachers were forced to take the initiative in obtaining state and local support to maintain existing programs or develop new ones. The end result is a very haphazard program with inconsistent quality.

At McKinley, the principal's outright lack of support for vocational education weakened the program considerably. For instance, one teacher said, "Woodshop is dead." Later we learned that the woodshop teacher was on sick leave and the class had been closed for the semester. Instead of hiring a substitute, the principal had students placed in study hall where they
received credit for woodshop. The principal, in his words, "took out the career placement center" to focus more attention on college preparation. The courses in the regional program,
regarded favorably by many, had lower participation at all three schools, because the off-campus courses entail significant travel time. However, McKinley students' participation was curtailed by the principal, who refused to provide information on off-campus courses or to allow buses on campus. (The campus had been closed during lunch to keep out neighborhood gang members.)

Teacher shortages affected the type of courses that could be offered. For example, one administrator attributed problems in vocational education to poor quality teachers and teaching. He argued that capable college business majors would select a more lucrative field than teaching. Respondents also described assigning vocational educators to academic courses. This practice permitted vocational teachers to keep their position but relied on their having an academic credential. In addition, this type of joint appointment usually entails more preparations each day and can undermine the quality of both the academic and vocational programs.

Finally, counselor loads severely limited the extent to which they could advise students about courses. At each of the schools in our study, counselors played an important but difficult role. Responsible for placement, career guidance, and scheduling, counselors have tremendous influence on the matching of students and curriculum. However, the counselors we spoke with were frustrated by the large number of students assigned to them. Counselors were each responsible for 450 students at Coolidge and for 400 students at Washington, assigned alphabetically. At McKinley, counselors were assigned to students in the 9th grade and stayed with them for four years. Because of the school's high attrition rate, their caseloads ranged from 350 to 700 students each. Counselors described spending large portions of their time on scheduling issues, which left them with inadequate time for assisting students. The time they did spend with students frequently addressed crisis issues rather than long-term counseling in terms of the student's future career.


AN UNEVEN DISTRIBUTION OF ADVANTAGE

As the previous subsections make clear, the schools were not always able to make the curriculum decisions they thought best for students. In some cases policies interfered; in other cases resources constrained schools' choices. However, the constraints the schools faced in developing an appropriate curriculum for their students and in making appropriate matches between students and courses affected students on different curriculum paths differently. Those in the highest status, academic curriculum appeared to have the best defined and most carefully sequenced programs available to them, partly because of the policy priority given to these programs and to the special attention these students garnered.

State policies governing college admissions requirements and the college-prep track at all schools left little room for deviation in the courses to be taken or in the course sequence. Moreover, teachers reported that the curriculum of the college-track courses was better defined and the sequencing of courses better articulated. Certainly, in the AP courses teachers strictly covered the material needed to receive college credit. In addition, the "better" teachers were assigned to these classes, because, as one counselor told us, mastery of the material necessitated it.

These same high-achieving students were given additional time and consideration by counselors. At two of our schools, a counselor was specifically designated to assist the high-achieving students, and this counselor generally served fewer students than the other counselors. At Coolidge, the "pull-out" counselor was assigned to high-ability students, and at McKinley, one extra counselor was hired to assist college-bound students only.

Although not assigned to a special counselor, students at the very bottom were given more attention than those students falling in the middle academically. Low-functioning students received special attention when placed in remedial labs, especially when class size was reduced--a benefit mentioned by many respondents. However, unless eligible for special education, the low-functioning student generally had access to few coherent programs (especially in vocational education). In direct contrast to the teacher assignment policies for high-achieving students, "slow" classes were more likely to be assigned a less-qualified teacher. As one counselor put it, the "PE teacher who doesn't have enough classes." Judging from the lack of track movement, these students were likely to experience less-qualified teachers throughout their high school careers, especially in academic courses.

Students in the middle level, however, appear to have had the least coherent and least stable programs. Counselors reported spending little time with these students. One counselor told us she sees about 75 percent of her students during the semester, but rarely sees the rest. The 75 percent includes the "top students" and "the problems." A number of counselors recognized that students "fall through the cracks," especially the poor to average student who is passive or undecided about his or her future. These are the very students for whom counseling may be most important.

Further, because more courses were available and the course sequence was less rigid at the middle level, these students were less likely to receive a coherent program--a problem exacerbated by the inadequate counseling most of these students receive. These students are more likely to have an empty slot in their schedule filled with any available course. Although this serendipitous placement might result in a higher-track placement, generally the prerequisites associated with these courses precluded it. Thus, the scheduling process operated haphazardly for these students, and did not lead to greater opportunity.

Not only did the schools establish more responsive systems for the high-achieving student, but the students in this group and their parents were more efficacious. All three schools accommodated parent preferences with regard to placement, even when the school's initial placement differed. And at all three schools, the high-achieving, affluent (largely white and Asian) parents and students were the group that faculty reported as most willing to "push the system." The low-achieving and midrange students (often non-white or of lower socioeconomic status) frequently had less-involved parents and were less willing to challenge the system. If they did, they often met resistance and skepticism. At both Washington and Coolidge, parents were asked to sign forms waiving the school of responsibility for students' failure in higher tracks. The clear message was that the school lacked confidence in those students' ability to succeed, but that parents could assume the risk if they wished. Such messages often serve to discourage all but those most certain about their ability to help their children negotiate the bureaucratic and academic demands of school. And typically, these are the most educated and wealthy parents at the school.

The picture of curriculum offerings and student assignment practices that emerged from our field study in the three high schools is based largely on documentary evidence about course offerings and placement routines and on our interpretation of what administrators, counselors, teachers, and students told us about these processes. In the remainder of this report, we elaborate on this picture by examining how these processes played out for students at Coolidge, Washington, and McKinley high schools in terms of the courses they took. By doing so, we can determine whether and to what extent the patterns described by our respondents are borne out.


WHAT CAN THE TRANSCRIPT ANALYSES ADD?

By examining the the actual coursetaking experiences of students in the 1988 senior class at the schools, we can trace de facto as well as de jure decisions schools make regarding students' assignments to various courses, and we can explore intended and unintended outcomes of those decisions at each school.

In particular, we address the following research questions:

First, are there identifiable links between students' race, social class, immigrant status, and various curriculum paths that correspond to the beliefs of our case study respondents about the capabilities and aspirations of different students?

Second, to what degree are these associations "explained" or mediated by differences in students' academic performance, as believed by most school adults?

Third, is vocational education a "dumping ground" for students with behavioral or academic problems, as many at our schools believe? Does this characterization apply to all vocational education?

Finally, do the patterns and associations that emerge from the analysis of questions 1-3 differ systematically for students who attend different schools?

We turn to these questions in the following section.

[23]See the description of the comparison schools in Sec. II.

[24]For further detail about the differences in the curriculum and overall climates of the schools, see Selvin et al. (1989).

[25]However, one teacher suggested that Coolidge must have done something right, since test scores have stayed about the same in spite of the population change.

[26]Interestingly, despite the designation of McKinley's academic courses as college-preparatory, several teachers reported that they believed the content of these courses to be very low level.

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