The case for overhauling the Ohio State Board of Education
In That State Up North, a debate is brewing over the state board of education.
In That State Up North, a debate is brewing over the state board of education.
In That State Up North, a debate is brewing over the state board of education. Several Michigan lawmakers recently introduced a resolution to abolish the board via voter approval in a statewide referendum. Proponents’ main argument is that the change would create greater clarity around which state-level authority is in charge of public schools.
There are also some rumblings in the Ohio Statehouse that something should be done about the State Board of Education (SBOE). We don’t know what legislators are thinking—no bill has been introduced—or their reasons for bringing the issue up. But it’s possible that some might be frustrated with the board’s foot-dragging on making important tweaks to charter sponsor evaluations or its championing of embarrassingly low expectations for Ohio’s graduates. Or maybe, like legislators in Michigan, Ohio lawmakers are simply hoping to reduce the number of cooks in the education policy kitchen.
Whatever the motivation, lawmakers would be right to consider changes to the SBOE. One radical option would be to dump it. But like Michigan, Ohio legislators would not only need to pass legislation to do this but also gain voter approval via statewide referendum. (The state constitution calls for the existence of SBOE and voters would need to approve an amendment to eliminate it.) Given these hurdles, abolishing SBOE is no easy lift. That being said, three other states—Minnesota, New Mexico, and Wisconsin—govern their K-12 schools without a state board of education, and many Ohioans (and school leaders) might welcome one less layer of bureaucracy.
If Ohio lawmakers don’t try to scrap the SBOE, there are a number of other important statutory changes that could still bring significant reform to this institution. The following two would be a good place to start.
Reduce the size of the board
Ohio has a whopping nineteen-member board—eleven elected members and eight appointed by the governor. This is the second largest board of education in the nation; only Pennsylvania, with its twenty-one-member board, has a larger number, according to the National Association of State Boards of Education. As the chart below shows, most states have a seven-, nine-, or eleven-member board of education (32 out 47 states).
Chart: Number of states by the size of their state boards of education
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Source: National Association of State Boards of Education
In certain circumstances, boards the size of Ohio’s SBOE could make sense. For example, nonprofits might seek a large membership to develop wide connections in their communities or share fundraising responsibilities. Yet small, tight-knit boards might be the optimal approach when communication and decisiveness is required. An interesting analysis from the Wall Street Journal suggests that businesses might perform better under smaller boards. The theory is that those bodies are more responsive to opportunities and threats compared to large, lumbering boards where arriving at decisions could take significant time. While we may not want public decision-making bodies to move as quickly as businesses—thoughtful deliberation on policy tradeoffs is often necessary—they also shouldn’t be paralyzed by a need to reach consensus among an inordinate number of members.
Downsizing the SBOE to a manageable size—more in-line with other states—would be a step in the right direction. Clearly, the SBOE is not a fundraising body nor is its mission to generate grassroots support. Rather, its job is primarily decision making—most notably, setting standards for schools and students, and selecting a state superintendent. A smaller board should allow for a more free-flowing dialogue between its members, hopefully driving better decision making.
Move to an all-appointed board
As mentioned above, Ohio has a hybrid board with both elected and appointed members, a practice only three other states have adopted (Nevada, Washington, and Louisiana). Meanwhile, the large majority of states—thirty-seven of them—have appointed boards.[1] In most cases, the governor selects all of the members, though sometimes the legislature holds at least one appointment. Just seven states have boards entirely elected by popular vote.
Why should Ohio move to a board entirely appointed by the governor? Let me offer two reasons:
First, it would send a clear message that the governor is fully responsible for selecting SBOE members and accountable for their decisions. This would be an improvement over the status quo in which the public may not know whether SBOE decisions should be attributed to their elected member or to the governor. But under an appointed board, Ohioans would know with certainty that votes for governor will affect the makeup of the board. And though the views of SBOE and a sitting governor may not align perfectly—e.g., there may be “holdover” appointees from a prior administration—Ohio voters would be able to express their displeasure at the general direction of the board through their gubernatorial choices. For instance, voters could withhold a vote for an incumbent governor based on the course that SBOE is taking.
Second, shifting to appointees would likely encourage more top-notch leaders to serve on SBOE. Given the antagonistic nature of elections, many people won’t want to put themselves through grueling political campaigns. But if tapped by a governor, Ohio’s most talented and respected leaders might consider serving in this role. For instance, The Ohio State University’s board of trustees—a board appointed by the governor—consists of CEOs, entrepreneurs, and civic leaders. Why not aim to build an SBOE of a similar caliber through an appointment process?
Some will inevitably say that moving to an all-appointed board would diminish the people’s voice from education policy. It’s true that this would mean that some SBOE seats would no longer be filled via direct vote. However, there is little evidence that Ohio voters know much about their elected board member and actually hold him or her accountable through the ballot box. Further diluting the public voice is the influence of teachers’ unions whose interest is to win as many board seats as possible. As a result, SBOE elections might reflect more union priorities than those of the broader electorate. In contrast, if governors appointed the state board, they would be held accountable by a broader voting base that is apt to be better informed about their positions on education.
* * *
The performance of SBOE is somewhere between mediocre and dysfunctional. Yet Ohioans shouldn’t have to accept anything less than excellence from this decision making body. To create the conditions for a better-functioning SBOE, state legislators should overhaul it by downsizing its membership and moving to all-appointed board. These structural changes should enable the board to act decisively, while also being held accountable to the governor and those who elect the state’s chief executive.
[1] In a few cases, an elected state superintendent is a member of an otherwise appointed board; in one case, two statewide elected officials serve on an otherwise appointed board. Since the vast majority of the board members are appointed, these instances are considered “appointed” boards.
NOTE: This article has been updated to identify Washington's state board of education as a hybrid.
For the first time in their lives, my twin daughters are attending separate schools. It was a hard decision made after a lot of research and soul searching. My wife and I think both schools are good ones, but I’d be lying if I said I was 100 percent confident. The national debate over whether and how parents can know best when it comes to school choice has me wondering if we’ve chosen well. I am somewhat comforted by the fact that we had full information and access to many options, but I know that’s not the same for every family. That should be the debate on parental choice. Perhaps the process that my family went through—and the differences between the schools we ultimately chose—can help shed light on the larger discussion.
The school that both girls attended through ninth grade last year is an odd one, to be sure, and not just because of its sixth-through-twelfth-grade orientation. As a standalone STEM school, it is more like a charter than a traditional school, but it has no sponsor or elected board; it is supported by a consortium of higher education, philanthropic, and district leaders. As a public school, however unusual, it had a bevy of data for us to look at when we first considered it five years ago: test scores, proficiency and growth data, graduation rates, college-going numbers, teacher education levels, student and teacher diversity information, etc., all of which were impressive, especially given the dismal outcomes for the district’s middle and high schools that my wife and I had investigated and decided against. A school visit to observe classes and talk about educational philosophies left us energized and excited for the possibilities this unusual option could provide.
But there were items on the con side too. The school was very small and had minimal arts and language options, no sports or organized extracurriculars, no auditorium, no busing for us, and no music programs. Accelerated curriculum and early college tracks took the place of more recognizable AP and honors courses. The alums brought out to talk about how great the school is were first-generation college goers who did not look like my daughters. Would they fit in? Would they be motivated? The school is so academically focused it seemed barely able to muster enthusiasm for two social events per year. Most of the people we talked to about our options had never heard of the place. Heck, its lunch program was an array of vending machines.
Did we make the “right” choice? If you are a data-driven decision maker, you might think so, despite the many down sides. If you think student achievement as measured by annual tests is important, you might also approve of our choice. But if you are more inclined to value school culture, a fully rounded socio-emotional experience, some impressive names among the list of alumni, or perhaps a winning football team complete with a homecoming dance, you might argue we made a mistake. Perhaps you may even think that we harmed our children by our choice due to what our chosen school lacked.
One daughter has thrived in this environment and will likely remain there until the end of high school–although the rapid pace and mastery focus has allowed her to complete nearly all of her high school requirements already. Unfortunately, the rapid acceleration and relentless STEM focus led our other daughter to hit a wall last year and thus we needed to make yet another choice for her.
The school to which we moved her this school year is another odd duck: a secular private school of more recent vintage than most. It shares traits with the more familiar prep school model but seemed to us to be a bit more down-to-earth when we investigated. As an independent private school, it had no historical test score data to share, and no academic ranking to compare. In fact, staffers and parent liaisons were adamant that these things shouldn’t really matter. To them, its reputation as a good school was most germane. The quality of its faculty seemed based on how long they had been teaching or where they received their degrees, but the list of school founders was impressive and familiar. The campus was lovely, secluded, and well-appointed. The theatre production we attended was quite good, and there was no escaping the schoolwide excitement over the basketball team’s current run, the impending study trip to Russia, and the quiz bowl team’s fine year. Alumni names dropped regularly in conversation. Dining room, commons, library. Interestingly, this school also eschewed AP, IB, and honors classes, which were replaced by independent study and research projects in students’ junior and senior years, designed and conducted by the students themselves. What constitutes “A” work on such a project? No one seemed to know or care. That was not the point.
Did we make the “right” choice here? Reputation and school culture were the marketing angles, the exact opposite of our previous choice. In the end, we chose this school largely because our daughter had nearly completed her high school requirements—as determined by end of course exams per Ohio law—at the public STEM school and would be able to take advantage of “extras” in the new private school.
We have experienced ups and downs at both schools and questioned our decisions multiple times. Both schools we chose are featured prominently in a recent article about what the future of education in Columbus should look like, which is something of an affirmation, but it’s not proof. So far, our children are learning, growing, and thriving to our satisfaction whether or not we have data to prove it. Even this far into high school, however, there are other options we can explore should the current schools prove ineffective for either of our daughters. That, to me, is the essence of school choice.
The current national debate on parental choice seems to me to lack the nuances illustrated by my family’s story. First, even families with lots of information and access to options struggle with decision. Reputation or data or both? Perhaps other non-academic factors will prevail. Second, families like mine are advantaged over others who don’t immediately have the same resources and systemic familiarity. For their sake, the national debate cannot yet be “parents know best” versus “policy wonks know best.”
School choice supporters must continue to push for multiple options to be fully and freely available to all families regardless of zip code, skin color, and income. Inter-district open enrollment, charters, vouchers, and even standalone schools must be expanded to all who need it. Most importantly, supporters must make sure that as much data as possible is available on all aspects of school “goodness,” both quantitative and qualitative. Solid data are valuable, as are a well-deserved reputation and spending time in a prospective school to see if it passes the eye test. Data should be easily accessible, understandable, and comparable across as many school types as possible.
Until that is a universal reality, all parents can’t know best, and those who have information and access are advantaged over others. The national debate must change to reflect this reality.
Although researchers have yet to render the definitive verdict on preschool as the possible key to Kindergarten readiness, better K–12 outcomes, and life success for children, more findings are being added to the pool every month. One case in point is a new longitudinal study that examines academic and socioemotional outcomes for students participating in a Montessori preschool.
For those not familiar with the method, the American Montessori Society’s list of attributes reads: “Multiage groupings that foster peer learning, uninterrupted blocks of work time, and guided choice of work activity. In addition, a full complement of specially designed Montessori learning materials are meticulously arranged and available for use in an aesthetically pleasing environment.”
For the purposes of the present study, Montessori was chosen as an alternative to what the researchers define as default or “business-as-usual” versions of preschool: “teacher-led and didactic or else…lack[ing] academic content.”
Angeline Lillard and her research team used lottery-based Montessori magnet schools in Hartford, Connecticut, to create treatment and control groups. The treatment group comprised seventy students who won the lottery to attend one of two public Montessori schools; the control group consisted of seventy-one students who lost the same lottery and attended a variety of non-Montessori public magnet, traditional public, and private schools over the study period from age three through six.
The study measured students’ academic achievement, theory of mind (the ability to attribute mental states to oneself and others and to understand that others’ mental states can be different from one's own), social competence, executive function (via two different tasks), mastery orientation (whether a child is a “persister” at a difficult task or will settle for another, easier task), relative enjoyment of school (as compared to relative enjoyment of more obviously “fun” activities), and creativity (via Guilford’s Alternative Uses task). All students were assessed on all components at four points in time over the three years—once in the first semester after starting school, and again at the end of years one, two, and three of the study.
As might be expected, healthy and growing children advanced in all measured areas. In the areas of social competence, executive function, and creativity, there was little to no overall variation among Montessori students versus “business-as-usual” students. Kids will be kids, perhaps? Montessori students, however, were more likely to exhibit a mastery orientation by the end of their preschool years and to express more enjoyment of school than their business-as-usual peers.
But let’s not beat around the bush: Despite the researchers’ assertion that Montessori education carries no extrinsic rewards and is therefore different than “business-as-usual” preschool, Montessori students did far better on the academic achievement measure than their control group peers. Controlling for variables such as household income and initial executive function level isolated the effect of the Montessori “treatment” as most predictive of academic growth than any other variable. More importantly, income-based achievement gaps were much smaller for Montessori students than for control group students.
By the final measurement point in the study, lower-income Montessori students were far outpacing their lower-income control group peers. The same pattern held true for gaps in executive function: Students with lower executive function at the outset were faring far better academically than were comparable control group students by the final measurement point. Bottom line: two pernicious sources of academic achievement gaps seen in older children—household income and student executive function level—were seen to be ameliorated by the Montessori preschool as studied here. Seems like a big deal worthy of further study.
As for why Montessori preschool have such positive effects, researchers cite specialized materials, multi-age classrooms, the multi-sensory approach to math and English language arts, specialized teaching skills, student-centered activities, and encouragement of activity repetition. But this is just speculation. Variations between Montessori and “business-as-usual” preschools are numerous and would require larger and more focused studies before any answer could be confirmed.
It is important to note, however, that whatever boost Montessori preschools do provide could easily fade out once students move into K–12 schooling if elementary schools are not of the same rigor.
SOURCE: Angeline S. Lillard, et al, “Montessori Preschool Elevates and Equalizes Child Outcomes: A Longitudinal Study”, Frontiers in Psychology (October, 2017).
It feels more than a little tone-deaf to say this right now, given the dumpster fire that is the current state of our national affairs, but education reform is having a pretty good year.
That’s certainly not what many of us predicted twelve months ago. We worried that Donald Trump’s support for charter schools and school choice would make those issues toxic on the left; growing polarization would sound the death knell for any hope of centrism and bipartisanship, both of which have been essential for the ed-reform project for the better part of two decades; and populist attacks on data and reason would make it that much harder for our arguments to win the day.
And indeed, some of this has come to pass. Reformers on the left, especially, feel forced to declare their allegiance to “The Resistance” on a daily basis, lest Randi Weingarten and others succeed in painting any Democrat for Education Reform as Betsy DeVos in sheep’s clothing.
And yet, in the arena where it matters most, education reformers have had a remarkable year. As one reform funder noted privately last week, “the world is falling apart, and the center is not holding, but 2017 was the best year for legislative victories in history.”
That’s surely true when it comes to charter school policy. Not only did Kentucky finally pass a charter school law—and a good one at that—several major states made huge strides in bringing charter funding closer to parity with traditional public schools. That includes Colorado and Florida, which gave charters access to local property tax levies; Texas, which gave charters state funding for facilities for the first time; and Illinois, which passed a comprehensive overhaul of its school finance system that brought greater equity to school statewide, and created a new tax credit scholarship program to boot. This rightfully earned Illinois reform advocates the coveted “Eddie” award from the Policy Innovators in Education Network for “game changer of the year.”
This is all incredibly important, and promising. Ten years ago, you could argue that the biggest priority for charter policy was improving quality control, especially in a handful of “wild west” states. Since then, there’s been lots of progress, especially in Texas and Arizona, and more recently in Fordham’s home state of Ohio. (Yes, it’s still early there with some bad actors still fighting for survival, but the reforms enacted in 2015 are starting to work.) There are still some states in need of a clean-up, but in most places, the pressing priority is to close the enormous funding gaps between charters and traditional public schools. More than anything else, that’s what’s keeping high quality charters from growing and replicating. It could explain some of the low quality of schools as well. Gaining access to local property taxes has been the Holy Grail of the Indiana Joneses of charter policy. No more.
We are also in much better shape on accountability than we could have expected a year ago. To be sure, some reformers are disappointed with the shape of states’ ESSA plans, and the Trump Administration’s willingness to rubber-stamp them. But they are missing the forest for the trees. States could have eviscerated their accountability systems, doing the bare minimum under the federal law by identifying their very worst schools, and staying mum about the other 90 or 95 percent. And by our count, ten states (out of fifty) decided to do so, opting not to rate any school except for those identified for interventions.
The biggest and most important of these states is California, and other large ones include Michigan, Minnesota, and Virginia. Reformers in those locales have every reason to be disappointed, and will have to work double-time to inform parents and the public of the relative performance of all of their states’ schools.
But this also means that forty states and the District of Columbia decided to go well beyond the bare minimum and continue to apply ratings to every school. And on the whole these ratings are clearer than ever before, with more states using A–F grades, five-star ratings, or 1–100 scores. And while we wonks will continue to squabble over the minutiae of how these ratings are determined, in every state they are dominated by student achievement. These are huge victories for reformers, and losses for the teachers unions and other advocates of hiding the truth from parents and the public.
And can any reformer look at the coming Janus Supreme Court case and not smile at the prospect of the NEA and AFT having dramatically less money to spend on politicians who put the interests of adults over the needs of kids?
Now maybe our luck is about to run out, as the past twelve months take their toll on the political system and policymaking apparatus. I certainly worry about moderates of both parties getting wiped out in the 2018 midterms, especially gubernatorial candidates and state legislators. The risk is especially high in the few remaining blue states, such as California, where a reform-friendly governor has kept his legislature from going off the reservation. Will his replacement do the same?
So we can’t let down our guard, nor can we ignore the many other problems facing our country, and our kids, today. But we can enjoy some satisfaction in the fact that child-friendly education policies are still winning. Go ahead, let yourself smile.
Has William Phillis, head of the Ohio Coalition for Equity and Adequacy of School Funding and long-standing charter critic, been watching too many horror films this month?
This is no stretch. A Morning Journal article recapping a retired teachers’ meeting at which Phillis recently spoke reads more like a review of the wildly popular Stranger Things series than an honest depiction of Ohio’s charter sector.
As the Journal reports,
The birth of charter schools in the late 1990s created a monster and that monster is becoming a ferocious creature, William Phillis… said Thursday.
And
He said state officials, through House Bill 2, were able to “slow the monster” through more accountability for performance, but believes it is “still running wild.”
And
The curses of deregulation in education are profound, ugly, and scary, he said.
Moreover, he accuses Ohio charters of “finding ways to control all branches of government to further their growth” and calls one particular chain of non-profit managed charters—which was cleared by a statewide investigation of all accusations wielded against it, by the way—as a “national security threat.”
According to Phillis, Ohio’s charter sector is basically Stranger Things’ Shadow Monster, the evil creature that...SPOILERS FOLLOW...occupies the Upside Down realm, chases one of the show’s main characters until coming to possess his body and mind, and can only be defeated by Eleven, the show’s main protagonist (a 13-year old girl with amazing psychokinetic powers).
While Phillis’s language to describe Ohio’s charter schools is certainly hyperbolic, this comparison is not. As you can see in the scientific analysis below, Ohio’s charter sector as described by Phillis shares nearly every dangerous trait with Stranger Things’ demonic, world-threatening force.
Similarities between Ohio’s charter sector (according to Phillis) and Stranger Things’ Shadow Monster
All joking aside, I find Phillis’s claims to be truly frightening—given the fact that such misinformation has a negative impact on real children and families seeking out high-quality educational alternatives who have been historically denied them.
Phillis’s claims are predictable but nonetheless false—the notion that House Bill 2 was a mere “slowing” of the monster (rather than true landmark, bipartisan reform cheered on by many folks on Phillis’s philosophical team), and the truly frightful idea that charters are parasitic to districts by “taking” their funds when children and their families elect to go elsewhere.
For better analogies, charter critics may want to consider watching Get Out, a brilliant 2017 horror film that depicts the true monster as liberal racism and hypocrisy. Phillis and other Ohio charter opponents who continue to demonize choices set up to primarily help Ohio’s low-income families and students of color would do well to consider how monstrous that is, and defend high-quality educational opportunities no matter the type.
NOTE: The House Education and Career Readiness Committee of the Ohio General Assembly is hearing opponent testimony this week on House Bill 176, a proposal that we believe would significantly affect the standards, testing, and accountability infrastructure of K-12 education in Ohio. Below is the written testimony that Chad Aldis gave before the committee today.
Thank you, Chair Brenner, Vice Chair Slaby, Ranking Member Fedor and House Education Committee members for giving me the opportunity today to provide testimony in opposition to House Bill 176.
My name is Chad Aldis, and I am the Vice President for Ohio Policy and Advocacy at the Thomas B. Fordham Institute. The Fordham Institute is an education-focused nonprofit that conducts research, analysis, and policy advocacy with offices in Columbus, Dayton, and Washington, D.C.
We’ve long believed that high standards, rigorous assessments, and a strong accountability framework are key components in a quality educational system. For the most part, Ohio excels in each of those areas. The legislature and this committee in particular deserves much of the credit for that and ensuring that every student in our state has the opportunity to receive an excellent education.
House Bill 176, as introduced, would severely weaken Ohio’s education infrastructure. Here’s how:
Replacing the current standards
HB 176 prohibits the use of the Common Core standards. Because Ohio’s math and English language arts standards were based upon the Common Core, this bill would require the state to adopt a new set of academic standards. This is despite the state having recently completed an extensive revision process—led by local teachers and open to public feedback—that made the standards Ohio-specific. It also ignores the fact that Ohio districts, schools, and educators have been working with these standards for years, starting all the way back in 2011. While a few education leaders may testify for changing the standards, most are likely to argue for consistency and to be left alone to carry on with their job of educating Ohio students.
Even worse, the bill seeks to replace our current, Ohio-specific standards with standards from another state: Massachusetts’s pre-2010 standards. This move suggests a belief that by adopting the Bay State’s old standards, Ohio will place itself on the road to dominating the education sphere just as Massachusetts routinely does. Unfortunately, that’s not likely to happen. Why? It’s true that Massachusetts had very good standards, but its success didn’t happen solely because of its standards. A host of other policies and reforms shaped it into an education powerhouse. These policies included implementing challenging criterion-referenced tests, rigorous graduation requirements (two policies eliminated by this bill), teacher licensure reform, and school funding related changes.
There’s nothing wrong with Ohio policymakers wanting to model the Buckeye State’s K-12 sector on that of Massachusetts. But this bill does not accomplish that. Instead, it takes advantage of Massachusetts’s reputation when it comes to standards while veering far afield from the reforms many experts suggest propelled the state’s stellar performance.
Requiring new assessments
Another significant problem with HB 176 is that it would require the state to adopt an entirely new system of assessments—assessments that were used in Iowa prior to 2010. The first problem with this is that these assessments aren’t aligned to the bill’s proposed standards from Massachusetts—meaning Ohio would administer assessments that aren’t aligned to the standards its teachers would be teaching and students would be learning.
The second problem is that those assessments are norm-referenced. A norm-referenced test determines scores by comparing a student’s performance to the entire pool of test takers. Each student’s test score is compared to other students in order to determine their percentile ranking in the distribution of test takers. A criterion-referenced test, on the other hand, is scored on an absolute scale. Instead of being compared to other students, students are compared against a standard of achievement (i.e., a “proficiency cut score”). Ohio has long used criterion-referenced assessments because they give every student the opportunity to do well and can better gauge what students know.
In education, there’s room (and a need) for both of these types of tests. Do we really want the scores of these tests to be based on what other students know, instead what our students should know? Comparing students is useful, but it doesn’t offer a complete picture. Think of it this way: you could be the richest person in your city, but that doesn’t mean you have enough money to pay your bills. It’s a cold comfort to know that you’re better off than your neighbors if you still can’t buy groceries and pay your electric bill.
Other changes of note
Model Curricula—the bill prohibits ODE from developing model curricula. Ohio law already leaves it up to districts as to whether “to utilize all or any part” of the model curriculum, so there’s no reason to abolish it. Doing so would make implementation much harder for districts as they wouldn’t have anything to build upon
Graduation Requirements—the bill eliminates the requirement for a student to complete a graduation pathway to receive a diploma. It’s fair to debate whether we’ve gotten it exactly right with our current graduation requirements, but getting rid of any requirement is a different matter altogether. At a time when thousands of jobs are sitting vacant because there aren’t enough qualified applicants, more and more young people can’t meet the military’s enlistment requirements, and too few Ohio graduates are prepared to take college level courses without remediation, can we really say no requirements for graduation is in the best interest of our young people?
***
Overall, House Bill 176 makes a number of changes that will weaken the state’s educational system. The proposed changes to standards and assessments are particularly worrisome. Calling for yet another set of standards will force schools, educators, and students into another period of transition and turmoil. Meanwhile, requiring the state to utilize norm-referenced assessments will rob Ohio families of the ability to discern whether their students are truly college and career ready. For these reasons, we stand in opposition of House Bill 176. I’m happy to answer any questions that you may have.