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Texas Families say Remote Learning isn’t Working

A summer of delay and inconsistency from state political and education leaders left Texas schools little time to prepare for an academic year with millions of students learning from home. Now many of those kids are failing through no fault of their own.

By Aliyya Swaby, The Texas Tribune

Almost midway through the school year, it has become increasingly clear that virtual learning is failing a sizable number of Texas public school students whose parents decided to keep them home as COVID-19 grips the state.

The disturbing number of students posting failing grades while trying to learn in front of computer screens has also brought into sharper focus the failure of state education and political leaders to prepare for an academic year they knew would be like no other.

Over the last month, The Texas Tribune has interviewed more than 30 educators, students, parents and experts across the state about their experiences with remote learning. Parents and students describe a system in which kids are failing, not necessarily because they don’t understand the material, but because the process of teaching them is so broken that it’s difficult to succeed.

Teachers say they are scrambling to retool education, creating new videos and online lessons from scratch and struggling with new demands and limited time. They blame state leaders for squandering valuable months over the summer by delaying key decisions, frequently reversing course and sending conflicting messages to educators on the ground.

Instead of immediately giving local school officials the guidelines and tools needed to prepare, state leaders waffled on policies that school communities needed to make their decisions. They challenged local health officials over who had the authority to keep classrooms closed in areas with high coronavirus infection rates, feeding uncertainty about when and where students would return to classrooms.

By the time the fog cleared, school officials had mere weeks to roll out plans for the fall semester, including training teachers, students and parents on new technology; designing ways to keep track of students falling through the cracks; and upholding some semblance of academic rigor.

The Texas Education Agency indicated it has done the best it could in limited time, working throughout the pandemic to continue providing resources for districts thinking about remote, hybrid and in-person instruction.

Students are now paying the price, and the highest is being exacted from students Texas already struggled to educate. According to a Texas Tribune analysis, school districts with mostly Black, Hispanic and low-income students have higher shares of students learning from home. And state data showed those students were less likely to be engaged in online learning in the spring, when all schools were online.

“There’s just a level of fatigue with this that, given the way that the distance curriculum is being structured, is just wearing on kids and families in a way that’s really untenable, especially in those communities that were already disadvantaged before this,” said Benjamin Cottingham, who has studied the quality of remote learning in California and put out recommendations on how districts can improve.

A squandered summer 

Confusion and uncertainty have marked Texas’ response to the pandemic across all fronts.

Constantly changing, confusing top-down guidance from Gov. Greg Abbott this spring eventually led to surges in the number of Texans hospitalized and dead from COVID-19. As the Trump administration aggressively pushed schools to reopen their doors — seeing it as the key to invigorate a slumping economy — Abbott and Texas Education Commissioner Mike Morath decided all Texas schools would be required to open their doors to all students who wanted to return in person, but must also be prepared to teach remotely those who did not want to return.

But the guidelines on how to do both those jobs effectively and safely were delayed for weeks this summer as Abbott reconsidered his hands-off approach to the pandemic. By late June, the TEA had promised it would keep state funds flowing to districts for the students who attended remotely, and it began offering districts a little more flexibility as it became clear the pandemic was getting worse. In July and August, state leaders publicly bickered with local health authorities who wanted to keep classrooms closed during COVID-19 spikes, eventually taking away some of their authority to make those decisions.

As state leaders put out conflicting mandates, school superintendents attempted to prepare for the fall ahead. They repeatedly surveyed families, trying to figure out how to cater to two groups of students, some coming to school in person and others staying home.

Some districts considered having two corps of teachers — one for students in classrooms, the other for virtual learners — thinking the bifurcated approach might improve education for all the kids. But there was no money to essentially double the staffs of each school, and there weren’t enough classrooms to socially distance all those teachers.

After holding listening sessions with superintendents, the TEA offered districts free access to a virtual learning system, which 400 school districts educating millions of students have adopted. The agency also contributed hundreds of millions in federal stimulus money to subsidize bulk orders of computers, Wi-Fi hotspots and iPads. But in some cases, supply chain issues delayed shipping for months. Texas has also provided online course materials schools can use for free — but some courses are still being rolled out midway through the year.

“The better time to have rolled all this out would have been last June, last May,” Morath acknowledged this week at a State Board of Education briefing. “But we are moving as fast as we can, all things considered.”

Delayed starts to the school year allowed districts to spend more time planning, but some struggled to use that time wisely. “We could have used another month or two of planning and training and figuring things out,” said Mark Henry, superintendent of Cypress-Fairbanks Independent School District outside of Houston. “But parents had the opportunity to declare whether they were going to be face-to-face or remote until two weeks before school started. We didn’t know what our numbers were going to be until 10 days before school would start.”

Returning from a chaotic summer, teachers had to create new classes for virtual learning with almost no time to plan, while instructing kids in person and online at the same time. Texas funds districts for remote students if they can show those students engaged with their lessons that day. A simple task like taking attendance now lasts more than twice the usual time, as teachers hunt for evidence that a student reached out or completed an assignment.

Most districts have required teachers to come to the classroom daily, even denying many stay-at-home requests from those with medical conditions. “If we’re fearful of COVID and stressed out by these mandates and inflexibility, our effectiveness is going to be diminished as well,” said Lori Wheeler, who retired from Austin ISD in early November, worried about the health risks of working in person. “We had three weeks to learn a completely different job.”

Thoroughly preparing for an academic year such as this one would have taken at least a year in the best of circumstances, educators and experts said. But the delays at the state level left teachers with mere weeks to plan for the fall. “I think teachers were kind of flying blind in the sense that they were kind of making it up as they went, trying to do their best in terms of how much planning time the teacher has and how effectively they thought they could conduct lessons,” said Christopher Williams, a teacher in Houston ISD, the state’s largest school district and one of the last to bring students back in person. “These online platforms are new to us.”

Frustration hits home

The stress and lack of preparation teachers experience trickles down to students and parents. Parents and guardians told the Tribune that teachers have often not made clear to them which class assignments are required and which are just suggestions. Sometimes parents tell their children not to bother completing assigned work at all, worried the stress will overwhelm them and have long-term effects.

Candace Hunter’s daughter Hezekiah, who is 11, used to love school as a straight-A student. Now, she is inundated with mundane assignments from multiple classes, leaving her despondently working into the evening to clear the backlogs. The sixth grader at Austin ISD’s Lamar Fine Arts Academy asks her mom if she can stay out of school.

Hunter, a veteran teacher who now privately trains teachers, said the school has not adjusted its teaching policies to be more flexible. In a normal year, teachers ask students questions throughout a lesson and give them homework to get proof they understand each skill or lesson. Replicating that method on a virtual platform has been disastrous, resulting in dozens of emails and messages that students and parents must sort through each day, she said.

Candace Hunter’s children are home-schooled due to the pandemic and have been struggling to manage the onslaught of assignments that come with remote learning. Hunter and her children are photographed here in Austin on Nov. 17, 2020.
From left: Candace Hunter’s children Hezekiah and John-Mark are home-schooled due to the pandemic and have struggled with remote learning. Credit: Amna Ijaz/The Texas Tribune

“Why not create a system that will draw people back to you? Like, ‘We thought about who needs this program the most … and each campus has created a program especially for their population that is going to be engaging and robust.’ That’s not happening,” Hunter said.

Eventually, she told her daughter’s teachers, “If this continues, we’re going to start cherry-picking our assignments.”

With more low-income students and students of color learning remotely, existing disparities in education are exacerbated. A Tribune analysis showed that in majority low-income districts, an average of 64% of students are learning from home. That rate climbs to 77% in majority Hispanic school districts and 81% in majority Black districts, according to the data collected in late September by the TEA and Department of State Health Services. By contrast, in majority white school districts, 25% of students are learning from home.

Remote learning is working for some students, but often requires an immense amount of time from guardians and parents. Natasha Beck-King, a history graduate student with coursework of her own, transferred her son to a San Antonio ISD school from a local charter school when it was clear the charter did not have a long-term plan for remote learning.

Beck-King stays up late with her children to verify they have completed their work and feels like parents should spend more time doing the same. “If your kid is failing and they’re not in tutoring, and you’ve communicated with the teacher and the teacher is communicating back with you … that is not on the school,” she said.

Some schools had the resources to prepare earlier. Marysa Enis, a former school psychologist at Austin ISD, said remote learning is going well at her son’s school, the Liberal Arts and Science Academy, which used its own money to pay teachers to plan over the summer.

But some families lack the resources for online learning to ever be successful this year, through no fault of their schools. Georgina Pérez, a Democratic member of the Texas State Board of Education, lives in the southeast corner of El Paso County, a border region where broadband access is limited. Her youngest children, fifth grade students at San Elizario ISD, received computers and hotspots from the district, but couldn’t get a signal and eventually gave them back. Now, Pérez drives to the school every Tuesday to pick up paper packets, assignments on material the children learned more than a year ago.

Pérez knows her children may need to repeat the fifth grade next year and believes they will eventually catch up, but she worries about the students in families without as many resources. She blames the situation on state delays, not just to get control of the pandemic, but also to get its most vulnerable communities connected to the internet. “How many years have we studied the needs for broadband infrastructure in Texas?” she said. “Twenty years ago, we already knew what we needed, but we just didn’t do it.”

Carrots and sticks

The TEA has used both carrots and sticks to encourage school districts to follow certain guidance.

Despite significant outcry, Texas plans to administer STAAR standardized tests to students this spring and use those scores to rate schools and districts, which could lead to sanctions for some. Looming accountability ratings have spurred administrators to increase the difficulty of courses and push teachers and students to get back to normal in a year that is anything but.

“If we don’t push our kids, if we water down the curriculum and make it easier, I guess, then they won’t be where they need to be when it comes to accountability testing in the spring,” said Linda Parker, assistant superintendent at Eagle Mountain-Saginaw ISD in North Texas. “We’re trying to operate in a world that is so different than what we’ve had before.”

And the threat of lost state funding due to drops in enrollment has been a specter for superintendents already spending up to millions to COVID-proof their buildings.

In late July, as state leaders battled local health officials over who was in charge of school reopenings, Texas said it would provide funding for schools that kept their classrooms closed only if they did so for state-approved reasons. Districts took that as a threat that their funding would be yanked if they listened to local health officials who said in-person school wasn’t safe.

Recently, Texas announced it would fund school districts for declining enrollment through the first semester, instead of just the first 12 weeks. The announcement was met with tempered relief from superintendents who are waiting to hear if they will receive that financial reprieve for the entire year. The suspense has left teachers and staff wondering if they will still have their jobs months from now, adding yet another layer of tension.

In response to complaints from parents and educators, the TEA and superintendents tinkered with their requirements for schools. In October, the TEA said schools were required to have qualified staff instructing or supporting students face-to-face in classrooms if they wanted to get funding, which it said clarified existing guidance.

That clarification ruled out a system Austin ISD and others had been using, in which students remained in the same classroom and learned virtually while supervised by a teacher. Austin ISD had to start from scratch and announced that its middle and high schoolers would physically transition between classes and receive face-to-face instruction starting Nov. 2.

Many educators used the well-worn idiom “building the plane as you fly it” to describe the summer and fall. Parker took the saying a step further in describing how schools are responding to shifting state guidance. “It’s actually like, ‘Guess what, pilot? Here’s your plane, but we’re going to change the motor. Now we’re going to change the structure. ... Then, as the year starts, we’re going to change your plane. We know you don’t know that much about it, but you’ll be fine.’”

“Throw ’em an anvil”

At times, the response to the pandemic has been like a massive game of telephone, with the TEA giving guidance to school superintendents that scrambles by the time it reaches teachers and parents.

This summer, the TEA explained to districts the online programs available to help them manage classroom tasks and monitor student progress. Lily Laux, a deputy commissioner at the TEA, told the Tribune she wanted districts to understand that remote learning would be easier with the higher-end programs, since teachers would be able to easily track whether students were engaging with the lessons. But she said she was not mandating a change.

In an email to staff at the end of June, obtained by the Tribune, Pflugerville ISD Superintendent Doug Killian announced that the district would be pivoting to Canvas, a program used frequently in higher education that teachers describe as challenging to learn. He explained that “guidance from TEA requires a more robust system for instruction, more in-depth online instruction, and necessary tracking of students online for attendance and funding purposes.”

The district did not launch training for the program until Sept. 4, with the goal of phasing it in for students and parents from mid-October to January. District leaders plan to extend that time for teachers who need it, said spokesperson Tamra Spence.

“That’s like throwing someone in the deep end of the pool, and when they don’t drown, throwing ’em an anvil,” said Don Fisher, a former Texas A&M-Kingsville lecturer on student media, who has taught and designed online classes for more than a decade.

Confused and frustrated by the late rollout of the new program, some teachers said it was the result of top-down decision-making that lacked foresight and left them out of the process. “There was no organized, centralized, deliberative initiative from school districts to professionally develop their teachers and increase their proficiency on these … platforms,” said Cuitlahuac Guerra-Mojarro, who teaches engineering in the district. “Had there been foresight and leadership and understanding about what the future is, we would have been more prepared.”

And ultimately students pay the price. Alexis Phan, a sophomore at Pflugerville High School, stares at a screen for at least eight hours a day and feels like her teachers are moving at too fast a pace. Some of her classmates have lost friends to suicide or shootings and are struggling to focus. One week in October, Phan had six tests in electives and core subjects. She is passing all her classes, but her grades are lower than they used to be, and she spent weeks staying up until 1 a.m. doing homework.

Sophomore Alexis Phan does her Algebra 2 homework remotely, from her home in Pflugerville.
Sophomore Alexis Phan does her algebra homework remotely from her home in Pflugerville. Credit: Jordan Vonderhaar for The Texas Tribune

Phan spends most days at home alone, with her father at work every other week and her sister and mother at work. She feels sad and lonely often, “just doing work alone with so much work just piling up constantly.” But she visits her grandparents regularly and worries going back to school in person could bring the virus back to them.

“Honestly, I wish that some teachers could be a bit more understanding with us. They should be a little more understanding that just because we’re in a pandemic or have a three-day weekend that they shouldn’t give us more work than what they would normally do,” she said. “It’s just harder to learn online.”

Awaiting a fix

Medical and education experts say remote learning should continue to be an option for families that don’t feel safe sending students to classrooms.

But instead of trying to improve virtual learning, dozens of districts are already bringing all students back in person. Texas recently changed its guidance and allowed districts to require failing students to return in person or find another district. But with COVID-19 cases rising in many regions, some administrators are being forced to temporarily shut down schools for weeks at a time and rely on their remote-learning programs to keep students up to speed.

From mid-September into October, Gunter ISD, in rural North Texas, had to quarantine 190 students after they had been in close contact with someone who tested positive, according to Superintendent Jill Siler. About 91% of the district’s students are learning in person, and the other 9% use online programs that Gunter ISD purchased, with classroom teachers providing support for younger students.

For now, Gunter ISD will keep remote learning since some students are successful and because an increase in COVID-19 cases would require the district to educate kids remotely. “If we’re still in December and in as much struggle as we are now, that decision [to cut remote learning] in December may look different,” Siler said.

Siler and other school administrators are working to learn from mistakes and improve their virtual learning programs. Hays CISD administrators gave teachers more time to plan lessons and created a help desk for parents or teachers, said Superintendent Eric Wright. They have also considered reducing the number of required assignments after getting feedback that it was “overwhelming.”

The TEA continues to provide updated guidance and offer training for the free virtual learning systems and technology tools. At a legislative hearing last week, Morath told lawmakers that Texas needed to “reengineer the school experience so students reach high academic outcomes” in 2021, including changing how instruction works, addressing disparities among students and investing in teachers.

Cynthia Ruiz, who quit her job as an attendance specialist in Austin ISD in October, said schools should change their expectations of what instruction looks like during a pandemic. They could shorten the school day or school year, free up time for teachers to connect with their students and build in more time for mental health check-ins.

“To try and mimic the school day in the way we’ve always done it was their first mistake,” she said. “One reason why we have low grades is because we’re saying everything is important, and when you’re saying everything is important, nothing is important.”

Mandi Cai and Chris Essig contributed to this report.

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Teacher Divides her Time Between "Roomies" and "Zoomies"

Third grade teacher Abigail Boyett is responsible for simultaneously educating 10 students in person and 11 at home. It's a challenge many Texas teachers face this fall as schools adapt to the pandemic.

By Aliyya Swaby, The Texas Tribune

“Ms. Boyett! Ms. Boyett!”

When the squirming third graders sitting six feet apart in her classroom tried to get Abigail Boyett's attention, she pointed to the pair of leopard ears sitting on her head.

Months into the school year at San Antonio’s Northside Independent School District, the Lewis Elementary School third graders knew the fuzzy headband meant their teacher was focused on the other half of the class, the students sitting at home tuning into the lesson through Zoom. Both “roomies” and “zoomies” were supposed to be working independently on multiplication assignments, while Boyett pulled aside two who had struggled to grasp the concept.

“My friends in my classroom, I’m putting on my cat ears. When I have on my cat ears, we ask three before me,” she reminded them last Thursday, looking out at the room of masked 8-year-olds sitting behind plexiglass partitions. “You ask three of your friends before me.”

The rhyme is one of many tools Boyett has devised during the pandemic to teach two groups simultaneously, her attention divided between 11 students on screen and 10 in the room. She is responsible for solving technological issues for her “zoomies,” reminding her “roomies” to stay six feet apart and ensuring each child understands the lessons.

The continual push and pull for attention is familiar for thousands of urban and suburban teachers at a time when 3 million Texas public school students are learning remotely and another 2 million are showing up in person. “I try to treat them as equal as possible, but my roomies sometimes get a little more slack because they are in my classroom. I can see what they’re doing,” Boyett said. “It’s really hard.”

Teachers across the country are struggling to adapt to hybrid classroom approaches cobbled together in response to the enduring pandemic. Many say they’re having trouble reaching the students who need their help the most.

“That model is so brutal for teachers. It’s not fair to students. It’s not fair to parents,” said Benjamin Cottingham, who has studied the quality of remote learning in California schools. “I’m afraid that you’ll lose those people in education just permanently if they don’t change anything.”

Most Lewis Elementary teachers did not want hybrid classrooms. Principal Kendra Merrell estimated that 70% preferred being assigned to solely remote or in-person students, instead of a mix.

But the school didn’t have enough teachers to separate each class. “There was no way that logistically we could make that happen. There were too many kids coming back in person for us to be able to accommodate the in-person learners with the amount of staff we have,” she said. Currently, a little more than half the students in the majority-Hispanic school are learning in person.

Still, Boyett prefers teaching this way during the pandemic. She thinks it gives her a better shot at building long-term relationships with each student, rather than having some come and go if they switch between remote and in-person learning during the year. “We wanted our own classroom because we wanted our kids to get used to us. We wanted our kids to get used to each other,” she said. “Also, if they started with someone else and then came to me once they were in-person, I would have to do everything all over again.”

Amy Moreno worried that her daughter Isabella would be “heartbroken” if she started with Boyett and had to change midyear. She is grateful the school decided to keep a hybrid system. Isabella learns from home, in a room alongside her mother and two brothers. At first, the third grader felt jealous and left out watching her in-person classmates on screen, but she has since gotten used to it.

“She’s doing really well. She’s adjusted to the online experience,” Moreno said. “My husband and I are open to reconsidering it when they go back in January.”

The strength of Boyett’s relationships with her students was apparent Thursday. Students eagerly raised their hands to answer questions and sometimes interrupted to tell moderately relevant personal stories. Boyett once muted a student singing to herself during a lesson, but generally acknowledged those who wanted to talk to her, even when it was distracting.

“Is your face shield more better than the mask?” one student asked, as Boyett tried to transition into a writing activity.

“It’s because you can hear me clearly. I can speak better and you can hear my words clearly,” she responded patiently.

Plexiglass and six feet of distance between each desk keep students socially distant in Abigail Boyett's third grade classroom.
Plexiglass and six feet of space between each desk keep students socially distant in Abigail Boyett's third grade classroom. Credit: Alejandra Casas for The Texas Tribune
Students in Abigail Boyett's third grade class use Zoom to stay in sync with her teaching, as well as with the remainder of their classmates that attend class from home.
Students in Abigail Boyett's third grade class use Zoom to stay in sync with her teaching, as well as with the remainder of their classmates that attend class from home. Credit: Alejandra Casas for The Texas Tribune
First: Plexiglass and six feet of space between each desk keep students socially distant in Abigail Boyett's third grade classroom. Last: Students in Abigail Boyett's class use Zoom to stay in sync with her teaching, as well as with the remainder of classmates that learn from home. Credit: Alejandra Casa for The Texas Tribune

Both groups of students spend most of their days looking at computer screens, the easiest way for Boyett to teach everyone at once. She guided them through finding their assignments on the learning management system the school uses, explaining which buttons to click and which virtual folders to enter. In the morning, students pledged allegiance to the Texas and American flags while watching a pre-recorded video of the day’s announcements. When they left for the bathroom or their daily art or music courses, Boyett reminded them to wipe down their desks and sanitize their hands.

When she asked for quiet focus with the classic elementary school “1, 2, 3, eyes on me,” all students visible in the Zoom grid clapped “1, 2, eyes on you” and fell silent. The majority of students had their cameras on, a choice Boyett left to them. At times, siblings or parents could be seen walking through the home or even dancing and pointing at the camera. One student, distracted close to lunchtime, rolled around on his couch at home. And during another lull, a student in the classroom stood up and danced near his desk.

Though Boyett appears to possess endless wells of patience and energy, she was scraping the bottom the day before, as students on screen and in the room repeatedly called out her name. “I was like, ‘OK, Ms. Boyett is one person,’” she recalled. “‘I need y’all to start raising your hands. Students online, don’t forget, I have students in the classroom. Students in the classroom, don’t forget I have students online.’”

On Thursday, Dallas Bassford, who is 8 and usually attends in person, was absent because her family was driving to a wedding in Florida. But she was still able to attend class from the car on her iPad, while headphones barely kept out the highway’s rumble. During the afternoon’s science lesson about the dangers of polluting, Dallas’ answers were repeatedly swallowed by a faulty Internet connection.

Her mother Katy Bassford said Dallas is able to focus more at school, a benefit that outweighed the health risks of sending her in person. “That is one question I asked the teacher before. I asked, ‘Is it going to be like a prison where they just sit there and can't do anything and they’re on the computer?’ Ms. Boyett said, ‘I’m going to try to make it as fun and interactive as I can,’” she said.

Like most teachers, Boyett had little time to plan for this fall after Texas repeatedly delayed and changed guidance for school reopening throughout the summer. She is still teaching parents how to use online programs or how to tell which assignments are required. And she is trying to plan more interactive lessons to keep students interested and engaged, instead of relying on worksheets or online assignments.

Third graders are the youngest students that will have to take Texas’ reading and math standardized tests, or STAAR, in the spring — and those tests are still going forward this academic year.

Boyett doesn’t talk to her students much about the standardized tests coming up, not wanting to stress them out too much. But she has seen their reading fluency decline, with students who are supposed to be reading 100 words per minute reading about 60. “When I conference with parents and tell them, OK they’re lacking a little in fluency, they will own up to it,” she said. “They’ll tell me, ‘You know what? During COVID, we didn’t read. We didn’t do anything. I’m sorry, but we will get back to it.’”

The split in the classroom also takes away valuable learning experiences from students. During the last period of the day, Boyett worked with two students who had not understood how to use a number line to create a multiplication sentence. One sat in front of her at a desk and the other sat at home, a crying baby audible somewhere behind him.

Boyett pulled up a colorfully decorated number line and asked the student in front of her what numbers he would multiply. But he had muted his audio, and while his teacher was able to hear his answer, the other student heard nothing.

“Why do we want kids to have a conversation? Because we’re hoping a kid listens to the other kid and the way they explained it makes more sense,” Merrell said, reflecting on that challenge of a hybrid classroom. “We’re cheating them out of that experience and that conversation and that ability to learn at a deeper level.”