Several years ago when the Testing Monster grew claws and teeth, our school administration adopted a data analysis package called the Cox Model. Our staff examined complicated matrices of “disaggregated” data based on test scores and racial, ethnic, language, and other demographic categories. I was uncomfortable throughout this process, a required staff development exercise. It felt like racism, institutionalized, and I refused to say anything after my stomach became so knotted that I could only rant and groan in the small group discussions.

When we looked at the test scores of our students, I noticed that all of my below-proficient-scoring students had histories of domestic abuse. I raised my hand and asked, “Will the administration allow us to include Domestic Abuse as a demographic category?” because it seemed like a significant variable. The whole staff was silent. My principal waited a moment for the question to sink in and diplomatically replied, “No.” The meeting continued.

This little story was prompted by a recent post in the Change Agency blog called, Data Analysis and the Four C’s of Change. Miguel applied the graphic that Stephanie used to his post, Multiple Measures of Data, asking about it’s applicability to the read/write web. Stephen Downes commented with a challenge to this sort of data analysis:

Of course, once you admit these dimensions of measurement, what is to argue against a variety of other measurements - nutrition intake, for example, local crime rate, perhaps, or per-student computer budget - into the same sort of calculation.

My experience exemplifies the problem that Stephen noted. The permissibility (or not) of specific data in school reform initiatives is a bold imposition of power and politics on children and their teachers. Data-driven recommendations for change will be useful when we all agree on whose data counts, and when we reach consensus on appropriate interventions. And that will happen when hell freezes over, an event that appears increasingly improbable.