Lucky

The other day, while H was playing with her new kitchen, she was saying in her baby voice "I so lucky. I so lucky."

I really can't think of any exposition that can improve upon that sentence.

Having it All on the other hand

Also entitled "In which I vacillate aloud for your (or my) entertainment"

Baby H is two. Let's be honest, she will be "Baby" H at least until we have a new baby, which does not seem to be anytime in the near future. And on the one hand, she seems so old, so much her own person, not at all that baby we pretended was a toddler those long twelve months ago. She knows she is her own person, and likes to answer "no!", even when she means yes and cries and screams "yes!" and "no!" until sometimes, if we ask again nicely, she will answer honestly that yes, she would like milk and she would like socks and she would like help and now she needs a hug, too.

And on the same hand, some days I am so ready to send her off to Montessori school and pay for it with the money I'll get from my new full-time job. Though getting that job might be harder than it is in my imagination. I probably won't find out for a while, because on the other hand, I wonder who will give her milk, and put on her socks, and help her, and give her a hug now that she needs one? And then, I think, of course, of course her lovely teacher would, and H would love her as much as she loves Miss L, the librarian, who in H's world is the rock star above all rock stars, who stamps hands and sometimes will say hello if there aren't too many other kids watching who will need hellos too. (Once shy H, surprised by seeing L there on her day off, was distracted from playing and was staring and when I asked her what she was doing accidently shouted "MISS L!" and was a little embarrassed but then thought it worked out great when Miss L invited H over for a sticker. And now they are BFF.)

But as I was saying, I guess this comes down to the eternal question of moms of our time, about Having It All and what All are we having, anyway? It's true, in ways it wasn't, that you can have it all, if that means having a job and a family, and enjoying them both. It's not true, in the way people wish it was, that everyone can be the toddler milker-socker-helper-hugger all-day-every-day (except when Dad's home, sometimes) and have a successful, meaningful career. Or maybe it's just me that wishes that. Obviously, there are lots of Alls between and around and in those options, and everyone chooses their own All with their own mistakes and successes and failures and trade-offs, and most of those ways are good in the end.

So we are choosing ours. And with the Montessori, I'm stuck on the other hand, and I just can't and just haven't, even though some part of me wishes I was so passionate about something as to go out and get a job about it. It's true that the more I stay home the more I think daycare is great, a totally good way to structure your family for both the parents to work and kids to have their own little world where they're cared for and loved and do fun things all day, not just go to T*rg*t and play while Mama does the dishes. So I reserve the right to re-evaluate, and might do just that, any second. Really, she'd be fine, she is two, she is ready for college any day now. Though on the other hand, now that I think about it that way, maybe I'll wait a few more years.

Library Day

Oh Library Day, how I love thee. Of all of our weekdays, you are blessed, because Baby H and I both enjoy your activities. Just when we are starting to get crazy- which sometimes is as soon as the library opens- we get to leave our house! And go somewhere! With entertainment, provided by others! Mama gets to look at some books, for about 4 seconds. If it's a really good library day, there will be holds for us. (I have them pull holds for me even if they were at the library to begin with, so I don't have to drag poor Baby H though the adult section and look at books with one eye and half a brain while the other half watches H pull books off shelves and the the other eye checks for judge-y patrons/ scolding librarians.)

Then we head back to kiddie land, and I follow H around, until it's time to secure our spot in The Mosh Pit, aka the story time area. We have to get a good seat so we can be up close and personal with Miss L, the best storyteller ever. (Really, that part is totally true.) Once we fight off the camp and daycare hoards, story time can start. H tries to avoid falling asleep on my lap while I enjoy the feeling that I'm being a good parent while doing absolutely nothing. Win! Then, H gets to practice her social/pushing skills while she goes to get a stamp on her hand. If we came early, Mama is usually tuckered out of supervising, and we head home for lunch. And nap. During which I have new reading material! And then, the day is half over! Now, the only question is about the afternoon activity....

One Year Here

We're alive! It's summer! We've already abandoned our latest church, since our friends left with their new baby. Can you believe their nerve? They spend their whole pregnancy here, and then they whisk that baby off before she's even two weeks old. Or something like that. (No hard feelings, guys. We do miss you, though!) We're now attending sporadically at a different Catholic church, and we're just gonna wait it out until we move again. Unless someone awesome invites us to their awesome church. It could happen.

Baby H is all toddler. Examples:

Talking: Every morning when she wakes up, and anytime sleep of any kind is mentioned: "No, plaaaaaayyy!"

Opinions: "Baby H, are you ready to go?" (This has always been rhetoric before.) "No, pooping." Well then. We were a few minutes late.

Emotions: We got a new book from the library. She cries big, real, sad cries every time we get to the line about soap in the eyes. If it's bedtime, she doesn't quite recover before falling asleep.

Gross motor: What?! This is the child who didn't roll over until 14 months. Nothing impressive going on here. She can climb into a chair now, though.

Relationships: She remembers people better than we do. Honestly.

Chronology: She's started saying "Two Auga" when asked how old she is. She must have heard us answer a few times.

Favorites: Pool time, other people, laughing, running in circles, babies, nakey time and animals. Soccer, reading, "tackling," and fake nap time are high on the list also.

Eating: I made us a box of mac & cheese for lunch. I think she ate at least half. I was still hungry.

I could go on, but I have to save some material for next time. Soon, for reals.

Church in the Land of Strangers

So, lest my last post left you feeling all doom-and-gloom, let me first assure you that we are attending a church full of (as far as week can tell) terribly lovely people. This church hunt was our most discouraging, and I am now totally on board with all those people who decry the state of church in America. I'm so sorry for ever judging you.

Second, to all who attend churches who do not deserve to be placed in that decried state, let me plead with you: Please, please, please say hello to the new family. If you're not sure if they are new, you can always ask how long they've been coming. If you want to tell them about your awesome nursery, cool. If they demure, emphasize how lovely it is to have families worship together in the sanctuary. (If you don't think this..... well, that's a whole other post.) I'm hoping I can keep up with my own advice.

By the way, to our church in Small Town, Midwest- we miss you. We love you. You are so awesome. We were actually a little creeped out by your friendliness the first time we came. That's the way to do it. I might cry right now thinking about your awesomeness.

We tried what feels like many, many churches here. At least two we left partway though the service. Now, as I said before, we are certainly picky to a fault- but still. Both of the ones we left early, it was because no one seemed to be engaged in the service. Our current church has faults too (*cough* the music), but everyone has been perfectly lovely (i.e. they notice we exist), and it seems like they have a really nice community. It's a very small congregation, and they seem very committed to the church and one another. They have yet to invite us for dinner, but some people have been making some noises, so I think it's on the horizon. Everyone knows Baby H's name, even if people are still learning ours. (She is the only child under 4, so that does help.) It took a few weeks for anyone to mention how lovely it was to have her in the service, but I think that's only because they were so worried we would not figure out they had a nursery (it's usually not staffed, since we don't use it and Baby H is the only one under 4.)

The pastor is young, and sometimes seems to struggle to reach his congregation, but he tries hard and they encourage him. He says hello to us (win!) It's some crazy denomination that barely has communion and- fun fact- their baptism is not recognized by the Catholic Church. I kind of think that might be because they don't baptize... Phew, a quick Google search reveals that they do baptize believers. It could be worse. So yeah, their theology isn't really my favorite, but it's nothing crazy, and they work hard to put their faith into action. Since we're only here for two years, I can overlook some different theology.

But, the real reason we joined the church was that our friends did. K & B were friends with two sets of friends of ours from college- so while we never met them before we both moved here, we quickly became friends. We did some church hunting with them, and when we were down to two, we chose this one, because we already would have community there. Even though they'll be leaving long before we do (sniff), it's been so wonderful to go with them. We even have a tiny small group with them every other week! So, in addition to some other factors, and in spite of a few more (not just the music), that's why it's our new church home. It's good to settle in, start focusing on the positive instead of evaluating earnest work, and start working on building relationships.

Catholic Fail

E and I grew up Catholic, and we liked it. We entered non-denominational and Protestant groups quietly and naturally, because we liked them, not because we hated Catholicism. We like Catholicism. We do seem to have trouble liking Catholics.

Now, this is probably partly E's and my fault. We are not the most patient, long-suffering of people. Probably some of those Catholics we struggle with are beating our tushies in the game of long-suffering, just by putting up with the likes of us for five minutes. But up until recently, I have always been able to say we left the church very amicably, and that we might return someday. We found more vibrant, active, community centered churches outside of Catholicism, but I always hoped if we found the right community and put in some long-term effort (difficult when you move every 2 years), we'd settle into a vibrant, active, parish with a strong community.

Catholicism here in our new town seemed so promising. I heard good things about the (relatively distant) history of the parish here, so we started attending. No one said hello. It was overcrowded. There was no coffee after, or Bible study groups to get to know people or hear from Jesus. It's a good thing we knew the liturgy, because Catholic churches never come with cheat sheets- I can't believe a non-Catholic would ever come for a second visit, to be honest, after sitting awkwardly through the first (probably while everyone else is standing or kneeling.) Compared to seeker-friendly Protestant churches, things did not look good, but whatever- we grew up Catholic, so I can't say I was surprised. But then, we tried to join two different types of groups for families. We had to find them, and call, and call again. And then, they had no openings for us.

I'm gonna say it again- They had NO OPENINGS for us! And this, in the end, is what made me unable to say Catholicism and I parted ways amicably. My time in Protestant Land taught me one thing about evangelism- when some one ASKS to be closer to people and Jesus, you MAKE ROOM. I love Catholicism for the liturgy, the history, the awe, the focus on what God did rather than our response. I think people need the seasons, the rules, the vast community and body that is there. But, I think it will die unless they can make some room.

Maybe, one day, I'll be part of the church to encourage them in this. But, I don't think it will be here.

So, what do you do? Research Revealed

Friends and family often ask me “So, what are you working on?” Such kind-hearted questions of loyal interest usually cause a cacophony of reactions in any academic’s brain: How should I answer? How many details do they really want about my research? Are they prone to narcolepsy?

Since I started my research fellowship, I’ve gotten many more questions about what types of research I’m working on and what, if anything, I’m learning. As we near the end of the fall semester, and the halfway point through the first year of my fellowship, I thought it might be a good time to take stock of what I’ve learned. Perhaps others will find the following few bullets of results more enlightening and interesting than I’m sure many of my in-person responses to such questions have been in the past.

 

1. To probably no one’s surprise, tuition costs at public colleges and universities have been rising ever more rapidly over the past decade or so. Just how fast you might ask? By nearly 200 percent since 1992 – which is much much faster than inflation (represented by the CPI-U line below):


And this figure tells us it doesn’t really matter which type of public college you look at – prices were on the climb everywhere. Underlying these trends are huge year-to-year increases in tuition and fees (often in the ballpark of 15 to 20 percent!) at public institutions across the country (e.g., California riots!?). Such increases were especially prevalent after the year 2000.

With a colleague, I’ve learned that large increases in the cost of attending 4-year public institutions of higher learning are causing college-going students to do at least two things: (1) Substitute down within state systems of higher education – they become less likely to go to the top, flagship schools, and more likely to go to less selective 4-years or 2-year institutions; (2) Go out of state to college, rather than attend local 4-year schools that have become relatively more expensive. Further, these effects are largest among low-income student populations. Both findings hold potentially deleterious implications for college completion rates and the robustness of local labor markets.

2. For a while now, economists and policymakers have been concerned about the effects mandatory high-stakes high school exit exams might have on student dropout. Using district-level dropout data from 1998 to 2008, I find that the existence of an exit exam is associated with an increase in the high school dropout rate of about 0.55 percentage points, relative to if no consequential exit exam policy were in place.

Turns out, this effect is concentrated among 12th grade students (1.44 percentage point increase), minority groups, and is almost exclusively driven by states in which students do not have access to alternative graduation pathways (i.e., replacement educational experiences for those unable to pass some or all of the state’s exit exam).

To put these findings in context, you might ask what average dropout rates looked like over this period of time… and if you did… I could happily show you:


Perhaps the silver lining to such findings is that, if alternate ways, beyond retest opportunities, for students to demonstrate mastery of state standards mitigate the increases in dropout rates otherwise observed when students are exposed to high-stakes, rigorous exit exams, this suggests that such state-level policies may be able to reduce some of the social costs associated with high school exit exams. Nevertheless, this assumes at least two important things: First, the alternate graduation pathways crafted by states are indeed adequate proxies for the educational experience and skills students would have received if the goal were still to help them successfully pass the exit exam; and second, teachers, schools, and administrators are not strategically funneling underprepared or minority students into alternate graduation pathways and thereby sub-par high school educational experiences. These two points are worthy targets for future research.

3. For those of you interested in K-12 research… I discovered an interesting impact of the main sanction embedded in the No Child Left Behind (NCLB) law on school-level student performance: In terms of math and reading proficiency, schools performed worse the year after being labeled as “failing to meet adequate yearly progress” IF the reason for failure was that the school missed the aggregate student achievement goal (e.g., only 53% of the school’s students were proficient in math, when the goal was 62%). But, if the school met this aggregate benchmark, but failed to make progress solely because of a particular student subgroup (such as special education students, African American students, Asian students, Limited English Proficient students, etc.) – students within the failing subgroup performed better the following year.

So, schools that meet achievement targets for the aggregate student group, yet fail to meet at least one demographic subgroup’s target see between 3 and 6 percent more students in the failing subgroup score proficiently the following year, compared to if no accountability pressure were in place. I see this as a story of scope: Broad failure leads to little improvement, whereas focused failure allows schools to more effectively direct scarce resources. For all its negative aspects, NCLB did shine a spotlight on traditionally underserved student populations – and it looks like it increased their performance (at least in one state).

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If you’ve made it to this point, congratulations. Thinking about some of the major things I’ve learned over the past year or so, as a function of being engaged in research concerning the economics of education and education policy was helpful for me – and I hope that some of you loyal readers found this write-up interesting, provocative, and policy-relevant at best… and an acceptable substitute for Nyquil at worst. I’d love to hear thoughts, impressions, or questions that this raised for you. Also, I promise more riveting posts from my better half soon.