Duncan, with charter-school students in Washington, is rallying states to compete for lots of cash.
(2 of 4)
To the powerful teachers' unions, however, the idea that their jobs could hinge on a set of standardized-test results is anathema, in part because many teachers believe the tests are unreliable indicators of student performance. "Our disappointment is clear," says Kay Brilliant, director of education policy and practice for the National Educators Association, the nation's largest teachers' union. "If it's going to be more of the same, more NCLB [No Child Left Behind], more testing and minimal support, then we're not interested." Duncan admits he is tackling the Everest of entrenched interests with this particular reform. "It's pretty controversial," he says of the rule. "But to say that great teaching doesn't matter and should be disconnected from student outcomes, to me, is ludicrous."
As states get ready to apply for funding, the opposition is still strategizing. "Are the unions going to tell legislators that they're dead ducks if they support this?" says Chester Finn, president of the Thomas B. Fordham Institute and a leading education reformer. "I bet not. But they'll definitely work hard to soften the RTT language and then work to undermine the implementation." The Administration believes it can overcome resistance to its plans. Eight states have amended or removed laws to make themselves friendlier to charter schools, partly in anticipation of Duncan's pot of gold. And California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger is pushing hard to drop a law that prevents state officials from using student data to evaluate teachers.
Duncan's approach has also scrambled the once predictable politics of educational reform. Republicans typically favor reform. But Duncan's top-down approach, with Washington telling states how to behave, makes some conservatives nervous. "When you're talking about that much money and you're using the language that the Secretary is using, then you get states already starting to change some of their laws before any money has actually been given out," says Representative John Kline, the new ranking Republican member of the House Education Committee. "I'm not completely comfortable with that."
After-School Special
Duncan, 44, is no stranger to occasional discomfort. He grew up in Hyde Park--the tony South Side enclave that's home to the University of Chicago--but played a lot of basketball in one of the rougher neighborhoods nearby. Often the only white player on the court, he became adept at figuring out when to be aggressive and when to hang back. In the early 1960s, Duncan's mother started an after-school tutoring program in an inner-city neighborhood following her discovery that few of the 9-year-olds in her Bible-study class could read. "In Chicago at the time, you didn't see many white people around black neighborhoods unless they were selling insurance," says Michelle Gordon, who attended the program as a teen and now works in a North Carolina law-school library.