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American Educational Research Journal
Fall 2004, Vol. 41, No. 3, pp. 557–603
Are We Creating Separate and Unequal

Tracks of Teachers? The Effects of State
Policy, Local Conditions, and Teacher
Characteristics on New Teacher Socialization
Betty Achinstein, Rodney T. Ogawa, and Anna Speiglman
University of California, Santa Cruz
This article explores the possibility that state educational policies, involving
accountability and instructional reform, and local district and school condi-
tions interact with teachers’ personal and professional backgrounds to shape
two tracks of new teachers that reinforce existing educational inequities. The
present 2-year study incorporated mixed methods and a multilevel design that
included state policy, local conditions, and teachers’ beliefs and practices,
highlighting two cases from a larger database. The authors report how differ-
ences in district capital shape responses to state policy, influence teacher
recruitment, interact with teacher characteristics, and create learning oppor-
tunities for new teachers that suggest the creation of two classes of teachers
for two classes of students. While previous researchers have identified student
tracking as reproducing inequities, this article examines the largely unexplored
terrain of new teacher tracking: the sorting and socialization of novices.
KEYWORDS: accountability, instructional policy, teacher socialization, tracking
I n this article, we explore the possibility that state educational policies,

involving accountability and instructional reform, and local district and
school conditions interact with teachers’ personal and professional back-
grounds to shape two tracks of new teachers, tracks that reinforce existing
educational inequities. It is widely documented that student tracking repro-
duces inequities across lines defined according to race and social class
(Oakes, 1985; Page, 1991); other research reveals that teachers who are
assigned to low-track classes suffer from a lack of resources and control over
instruction (Talbert & Ennis, 1990). We extend the examination of educa-
tional tracking by exploring the emergence of a system that sorts and social-
izes new teachers into two tracks.
We did not enter this study with teacher tracking in mind. In fact, the
emergence of that theme came as a surprise. The present study was part of
a research program sponsored by the New Teacher Center at the University
of California, Santa Cruz (www.newteachercenter.org). The center’s research
Downloaded from http://aerj.aera.net at PENNSYLVANIA STATE UNIV on April 8, 2016
Achinstein et al.
examines the effects of mentoring and support on the induction of new
teachers. Initially, the purpose of our study was to assess the impact that dis-
trict and school organization has on teacher induction. Specifically, we com-
pared the induction of teachers in districts that control curricula and
instructional practice with the induction of teachers in districts that encour-
age teacher autonomy. We employed differences in districts’ approaches to
literacy instruction as a window through which to view this topic.
Our initial findings replicated the results of previous research: Socializa-
tion works; new teachers express beliefs and enact practices that reflect their
districts’ approaches to literacy instruction (Grossman, Thompson, & Valencia,
2002). Subsequent data analyses suggested a more complex, multilayered phe-
nomenon: Other district and school characteristics, state educational policies,
and teachers’ backgrounds interacted to shape the socialization of new teach-
ers, apparently resulting in two relatively distinct tracks of teachers. Thus, what
began as a study of the impact of organization on teacher socialization evolved
into an exploration of a multilayered system that unintentionally produces two
tracks of teachers that reproduce inequities contributing to the well-docu-
mented achievement gap observed along the lines of race and social class. As
the following quotations from Liz and Sam1 illustrate, if this study’s findings
are correct, teachers in the two tracks differ in regard to their sense of profes-
sionalism, conceptions of students, and approaches to teaching.
The literacy program in our school and district is pretty structured and
intense. It’s set up so that there are certain things we do each day and
there’s not a whole lot of leeway for teachers to kind of make up their
own things. . . . It tells me what we’re going to be learning, what I’m
going to ask the students, and what I want students to say.
—Liz, a new teacher
In my district . . . we have more freedom to find out where the kids

are and meet their needs. The message to us is “we believe in your
capabilities.” I think that expresses trust in the teachers. It has built a
community in the school and in the district. We’re professionals.
We’re educated people. We’re here for the students.
—Sam, a new teacher
BETTY ACHINSTEIN is a Researcher at the New Teacher Center, University of Cali-

fornia, Santa Cruz, 725 Front St., Suite 400, Santa Cruz, CA 95060; e-mail bettyach@
ucsc.edu. Her areas of specialization are new teacher socialization, mentoring and
induction, professional communities, and equity.
RODNEY T. OGAWA is Chair of and a Professor in the Education Department, Uni-
versity of California, Santa Cruz, 1156 High St., Santa Cruz, CA 95064; e-mail rtogawa@
ucsc.edu. His areas of specialization are school organization, educational reform, and
leadership.
ANNA SPEIGLMAN is an intern with the New Teacher Center, University of Califor-
nia, Santa Cruz, 725 Front St., Suite 400, Santa Cruz, CA 95060; e-mail annas@ucsc.edu.
Her areas of specialization are educational tracking, literacy, and community studies.
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Teacher Tracking
This study is significant in two ways. First, we explored the intersection
between teacher socialization and educational tracking (Finley, 1984; Talbert
& Ennis, 1990), positing that teacher socialization in the current policy envi-
ronment, which emphasizes accountability and instructional reform, produces
two relatively distinct tracks of teachers. These tracks can be distinguished in
three ways: (a) distinctions based on social class, race and ethnicity, and per-
haps gender; (b) levels of inputs, including professional development oppor-
tunities, instructional control, organizational resources, and curriculum and
pedagogy; and (c) outcomes in the form of teachers’ sense of competence
and efficacy, and their teaching beliefs and practices. Second, we attempted
to determine how the consequences of policies that emphasize accountabil-
ity and instructional reform, the amount of capital that districts possess and
spend, and teacher characteristics may interact to form a system that produces
two tracks of teachers.
We begin by reviewing research on teacher socialization, because it pro-
vided the framework that initially guided this study. After describing the study’s
design and procedures, we report our findings, which highlight a comparison
of two new teachers’ induction experiences. We expand the study’s scope by
employing data from the larger research program to document the beliefs and
practices of other new teachers, draw comparisons between the two districts
in which the focal teachers work, and report statewide comparisons of districts
and schools. Our analyses of these data enabled us to assess how teachers’
backgrounds, district and school conditions, and state policies combine to
affect the socialization of new teachers. We then draw on previous studies of
educational tracking, which suggest that the patterns we uncovered indeed
reveal a system of teacher tracking. We close by considering implications for
future research, policy, practice, and theory.
Related Literature
Initially, the study’s conceptual framework was informed by research on the
socialization of teachers. Merton, Reader, and Kendall (1957) defined social-
ization as the process by which individuals acquire the values and interests,
knowledge and skills, and culture of the group, which in the present case is
the teaching profession. Research has identified three spheres that shape the
socialization of new teachers: teachers’ backgrounds, local contexts, and state
policy environments. This is in keeping with the interpretive and interactional
traditions of research on teacher socialization, according to which both indi-
viduals and institutions shape socialization patterns (Lacey, 1977; Lawson,
1992; Zeichner & Gore, 1990).
Teacher Background
Teachers’ personal and professional backgrounds directly and indirectly influ-
ence their socialization. Teachers’ cultural, racial, and class backgrounds and
personal histories influence their professional socialization in three ways.
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Achinstein et al.
First, teachers’ personal backgrounds shape their worldviews (Weick, 1995),
or cognitive frameworks, which in turn color their socialization experiences.
Second, teachers’ personal backgrounds affect their selection of the schools
in which they work and their connections with students, which shape the
context for their socialization experiences (Delpit, 1995; Lankford, Loeb, &
Wyckoff, 2002; Metz, 1990). Third, according to Lortie (1975), teachers serve
an “apprenticeship of observation”: They learn about teaching by observing
their own teachers.
Teacher socialization is also affected by preprofessional preparation.
Although some research reveals that teacher education has a weak influence
on new teachers (Richardson & Placier, 2001), other research shows that pre-
service programs, especially those with strong visions of teaching, influence
the instructional practices of their graduates (Darling-Hammond, 2000;
Kennedy, 1999), inform culturally competent teaching (Ladson-Billings,
2001), and facilitate the development of pedagogical content knowledge
(Grossman, 1990).
Local Context
Two elements of the local context in which new teachers work influence their
socialization: professional culture and levels of capital. Teachers are social-
ized within cultures formed by the multilayered professional communities in
school and district contexts. Professional communities affect new teachers’
beliefs and practices (Gallucci, 2003; Hill, 2001; McLaughlin & Talbert, 2001;
Spillane, 1999), influence their retention in the profession and sense of suc-
cess (Ingersoll, 2001; Johnson, 2004; Johnson & Birkeland, 2003) and thus
exert a career-long influence (Coburn, 2001; Grossman et al., 2002). In addi-
tion, the professional cultures of districts influence the amount and quality of
professional development opportunities afforded to new teachers (Grossman
et al., 2002; Spillane & Thompson, 1997).
School districts possess four forms of capital: (a) human capital, which
includes professional knowledge and skills, commitments and dispositions to
learn about reform, and views regarding learning (Spillane & Thompson,
1997); (b) social capital, which involves relationships, a sense of trust and col-
laboration with colleagues, and ties to outside experts and professional net-
works (Spillane & Thompson, 1997); (c) physical capital, which includes
financial resources, time, and materials (Marsh, 2002; Spillane & Thompson,
1997); and (d) cultural capital, which reflects the influences stemming from
student and parent communities’ access to the cultural attributes associated
with privilege (Bernstein, 1990; Bourdieu, 1977; Metz, 1990). The amount of
capital that districts possess and how they use it can influence the socializa-
tion of new teachers in several ways. Districts with less capital, which typically
serve low-income and minority communities, are more likely to hire teachers
who lack experience, credentials, and competitive university backgrounds
(Lankford et al., 2002; Shields et al., 2001). Districts with greater capital can
provide more professional development opportunities for teachers. Low-
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Teacher Tracking
capital districts tend to face greater pressure from educational accountability
measures because their schools generally perform below state-defined stan-
dards (see, for example, Technical Design Group of the Advisory Committee
for the California Public Schools Accountability Act of 1999, 2002). Conse-
quently, low-capital districts are more likely to adopt state-mandated instruc-
tional programs, which emphasize direct instruction and scripted lessons to
improve students’ performance on standardized achievement tests (Ascher,
1990; Hoffman, Assaf, & Paris, 2001; McNeil, 2000; Moon, Callahan, & Tomlin-
son, 2003). The instructional orientations of school districts, which result from
compliance with state instructional policies, provide new teachers with partic-
ular perspectives on instructional issues through both direct and informal poli-
cies and professional development opportunities (Grossman et al., 2002).
State Policy Environment

A growing body of evidence suggests that state policy can influence teacher
learning and, thus, the socialization of new teachers (Cohen & Ball, 1990;
Resnick & Furman, 1998). Coburn (2001), who has traced how shifts in read-
ing policies shape teachers’ beliefs and practices, reported that new teach-
ers are especially prone to adopting instructional “logics” embedded in state
instructional policies. Policies that specify instructional practices and are tied
to assessments of outcomes can have an especially potent impact on teacher
practice (Ogawa, Sandholtz, Martinez-Flores, & Scribner, 2003; Rowan &
Miskel, 1999). This has particular salience in the current policy environment,
in which many states, including California (the site of this study), have adopted
accountability systems that align curriculum standards and instructional reforms
with standardized testing programs (Chatterji, 2002).
The ongoing debate over educational policies that prescribe instructional
approaches and emphasize school accountability includes discussions of the
effects of these policies on new teachers. Advocates argue that instructional
policies that specify standards, curricula, and pedagogy allow teachers greater
certainty about what and how to teach (Schmoker & Marzano, 1999), which
raises the quality of instruction, improves student achievement, and thus pro-
motes equity across educational settings (Slavin, 2002). Specifically, advocates
argue that these programs provide guidance to teachers in low-capital dis-
tricts, which tend to employ more underqualified and inexperienced teach-
ers and may suffer from low expectations and high turnover among both
teachers and students. In these challenging conditions, new teachers may be
particularly agreeable to being guided by policies and programs that direct
how they teach, because many are “lost at sea” in areas of curriculum and
instruction (Kauffman, Johnson, Kardos, Liu, & Peske, 2002). Moreover, advo-
cates argue that when academic standards and accountability provisions are
well developed and implemented systemwide, they can lead to greater coher-
ence and more challenging curricula, build collaboration among teachers,
raise the quality of teaching, and focus attention on improving achievement
(Gandal & Vranek, 2001; Smith & O’Day, 1991).
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Achinstein et al.
Critics contend that accountability and prescriptive instructional policies
can narrow teachers’ professional discretion, discourage effective instruction,
and focus on lower order learning opportunities (Darling-Hammond, 1997;
McDonald, 1992; McNeil, 2000). They note that because low-capital districts
and schools are more likely to adopt such instructional approaches, pre-
scriptive programs compromise opportunities for students from low-income
and minority backgrounds to pursue higher order knowledge and skills, thus
increasing, not reducing, inequities. Furthermore, critics argue that these
policies may conflict with inquiry-oriented teacher learning opportunities
that focus on building a flexible knowledge base described in research on
teacher education (Berliner, 1992; Darling-Hammond, Wise, & Klein, 1999;
Shulman, 1987; Sykes, 1999).
Initial Framework
Research on teacher socialization and related topics provided the framework
that initially guided the present study. As mentioned, this framework features
three general domains that interact to influence teacher socialization: the
teacher, the local context, and the state policy environment. Teachers’ personal
backgrounds shape their worldviews, which color their early socialization by
affecting their “apprenticeships of observation” and influence their selection
of where and how to pursue preprofessional preparation and where to work.
Where new teachers work provides the local context for their professional
socialization. The instructional cultures embodied by the professional com-
munities that new teachers encounter in their schools and districts can exert a
profound influence on their professional beliefs and practices. Another char-
acteristic of the local context is the amount of human, social, physical, and cul-
tural capital that districts command. District wealth (i.e., amount of capital
available) affects at least three conditions that interact to influence the social-
ization of new teachers: the professional backgrounds of teachers hired, the
availability and quality of professional development opportunities, and district
vulnerability to state policies, particularly policies involving school account-
ability and instructional programs. Ultimately, then, state educational policies
frame the socialization of new teachers, especially when policies prescribe
instructional practices and assess outcomes and the conditions resulting from
a lack of district capital prevail.
The Present Study

This study stemmed from a program of research examining the induction expe-
riences of 20 new teachers (see also Achinstein & Barrett, 2004; Achinstein &
Villar, in press; Strong & Baron, 2004). We initially intended to examine how
the organization of schools and districts, as reflected in their literacy programs,
shapes the socialization of new teachers, and our original design reflected
this initial interest. The study evolved to explore how the interaction of state
policies, local conditions, and teacher characteristics might form a system of
teacher tracking.
562
Design
We chose a comparative, purposive case study design to explore the social-
ization of teachers in different contexts (Patton, 1990; Yin, 1989). This 2-year
study incorporated mixed methods and a multilevel design (six novices situ-
ated in schools, districts, and the state). Although case study findings are not
generalizable, they provide opportunities to generate hypotheses and build
theories about relationships that may otherwise remain hidden (Hartley, 1994;
Yin, 1989).
Because we initially sought to examine the influence of district organi-
zation, as reflected in literacy programs, we purposively selected (Patton,
1990) two districts according to three criteria. First, the districts employed
contrasting approaches to literacy instruction (different programs and levels
of curricular control). Second, the districts participated in the New Teacher
Center’s teacher induction program, which provides mentors who observe
lessons and offer feedback. Third, the districts seemed similar on the surface
in that they are located in the same region, have roughly the same number
of elementary students, and have relatively similar demographic characteris-
tics (see Table 1). As discussed later, however, during the course of the study
we came to see some salient differences between the two districts.
Because the initial purpose of this study was to examine the effects of
district and school organization on the socialization of new teachers, we
selected two teachers to serve as the foci of our case studies. We selected
these teachers on the basis of the following criteria: (a) Each teacher taught
Table 1
Demographic Characteristics of the Two Sites
Site A Site B
District District
2,455 students, 4 elementary schools 1,948 students, 3 elementary schools
3,550 students, 2 middle and
3 high schools
Per-pupil expenditure: $5,422 Per-pupil expenditure: $6,499
57% free/reduced lunch 33% free/reduced lunch
56% minority 43% minority
8% of schools ranking 6–10 on API 80% of schools ranking 6–10 on API
(10 = high) (10 = high)
Field School Hill School
K–5; 564 students K–5; 444 students
74% free/reduced lunch 41% free/reduced lunch
62% minority; 57% Latino 47% minority; 38% Latino
2002 API: 653 2002 API: 727
2003 API: 697 2003 API: 755
Liz’s class Sam’s class
3rd grade, 20 students (White, Latino, 5th grade, 27 students (White, Latino,
African American, Asian) Filipino, Sri Lankan)
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Achinstein et al.
in one of the districts selected for participation in the study; (b) both had
taken part in the New Teacher Center’s induction program; (c) both were
members of the cohort of 20 teachers involved in the broader study of teacher
induction, which provided data on these teachers’ backgrounds and first year
of induction; and (d) both taught in the upper elementary grades (to control
for grade-level effects and because the elementary grades explicitly focus on
literacy).
To assess the impact of teacher background against the impact of school
context on teacher socialization, we selected two additional teachers, one each
from the two schools in which the focal teachers were employed. Similarly, to
assess the impact of school context against the impact of district context, we
selected two more teachers (for a total of six) who taught in a different school
in the same district in which each focal teacher was employed. These addi-
tional teachers were also selected because they were elementary teachers who
had participated in the New Teacher Center’s induction program and were
involved in the broader study of teacher induction.
Data Sources
We drew data from four sources: interviews, classroom observations, school
and district documents, and documents regarding state policy and district/
school textbook adoptions across the state (see Appendix A for details on data
sources). We conducted 66 semistructured interviews of 29 respondents to
gather data on new teachers and on school and district contexts over a period
of 2 years (see Appendix B). Recorded and transcribed interviews addressed
professional and personal backgrounds, beliefs and practices regarding liter-
acy, and school and district approaches to literacy and professional cultures
(see Appendix C for samples).
We interviewed each focal new teacher on eight occasions for 45–90 min-
utes to explore his or her beliefs and perceptions about what had influenced
his or her socialization. For the same purposes, we interviewed each of the
four other new teachers included in the study on two occasions for 45 min-
utes. We interviewed the mentors of the focal teachers on eight occasions for
40–90 minutes and interviewed the mentors of the other new teachers on two
occasions for 40 minutes. We employed a snowball sampling strategy to col-
lect data on school and district contexts. At each school, we interviewed the
principal, other new teachers, grade-level colleagues of the focal teachers, and
other veteran colleagues. At the district level, we interviewed a superinten-
dent, assistant superintendents/directors of curriculum and instruction, literacy
coaches, and resource specialists.
To capture the instructional practices of the new teachers, we videotaped
literacy lessons (1–2 hours each) of the six new teachers over 2 years:
11 observations of each of the focal teachers and 2 observations of each of the
other new teachers, totaling 45 hours. We collected school and district docu-
ments regarding student performance and demographics, teacher charac-
teristics, hiring practices, professional development, and literacy instruction.
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Teacher Tracking
We collected mentoring documents and examined the results of a district-
disseminated induction survey sponsored by the teachers’ induction program
and administered to all new teachers in the districts.
Finally, to situate our cases and explore statewide trends beyond the two
districts, we solicited a list of district adoptions of reading programs from the
two textbook companies approved by the state and examined state databases
that described the demographic characteristics of the districts. We also exam-
ined state policy documents describing accountability and instructional reform.
Data Analysis
We analyzed the qualitative data on three levels (Miles & Huberman, 1994). In
preliminary coding, segments of data were categorized according to the social-
ization forces identified in the literature: teacher background and preparation;
school and district contexts, including professional culture and capital; and
state policy environment. We also coded for a pair of socialization outcomes:
(a) teacher beliefs about students, teaching literacy, and professionalism and
(b) teacher practices.
At the second data analysis level, we compiled the two cases and identi-
fied emergent themes. This involved the use of constant comparative methods
(Strauss & Corbin, 1990) in an iterative process designed to generate, revise,
and regenerate categories and codes (Miles & Huberman, 1994). We wrote
extended descriptive case memorandums for each of the focal teachers and
their districts, including representative vignettes (Miles & Huberman, 1994)
from their classroom practice and representative examples from interviews and
documents. From these cases, we identified emergent themes regarding the
nature of and linkages between socialization forces and outcomes.
We traced the influence of each of the socialization factors on the beliefs
and practices of the focal new teachers. This analysis revealed interactions
among the influencing factors, including relationships (a) between teacher
background/self-selection and district capital/recruitment practices, (b) be-
tween district professional cultures/learning opportunities and teaching prac-
tices, and (c) among state policies, district capital, and district responses to
state policies.
Third, we conducted a cross-case analysis. Using the case studies, we
developed matrices and other displays to further condense the data and draw
comparisons (Miles & Huberman, 1994). This allowed us to compare the cases
in terms of each socialization domain (teacher background, local context, and
state policy environment) and outcome, which suggested two tracks. Finally,
we conducted member checks by sharing memos and hypotheses with key
participants and then incorporated feedback in revised findings (Eisenhart &
Howe, 1992; Miles & Huberman, 1994).
We analyzed classroom observations by transcribing lessons and scoring
them using a rubric adapted from the “Standards Performance Continuum”
(SPC; Tharp, Estrada, Dalton, & Yamaguchi, 2000). The SPC assesses the pres-
ence of the elements of effective pedagogy identified and validated by Tharp
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Achinstein et al.
and his associates (Doherty, Hilberg, Epaloose, & Tharp, 2002; Tharp et al.,
2000; Tharp & Gallimore, 1988). It has been widely applied to linguistically
and culturally diverse student populations. We adapted the instrument to
focus on the nature of classroom discourse, an area also identified by other
researchers as a distinguishing characteristic of teaching practice (see Bloom,
1956; Burbules & Bruce, 2001; Cazden, 1986). In adapting the SPC, we solicited
feedback from expert practitioners and from two senior researchers work-
ing with the center that developed the original SPC. The adapted rubric
focuses on five instructional dimensions: (a) teacher questioning habits
(teacher’s questions develop higher order, divergent thinking), (b) teacher
uptake (teacher responds to students’ comments in ways that extend think-
ing), (c) opportunities for student talk (teacher provides opportunities for
active student participation in academic conversation that promotes think-
ing), (d) literacy development (teacher promotes development of language
and literacy expression that is cognitively complex), and (e) variation (teacher
varies or modifies instruction, flexibly diverging from or extending the cur-
riculum in response to students). We scored each dimension on the following
scale, which represented increasing levels of enactment: 0 = no evidence, 1 =
emerging (lower level of enactment), 2 = developing (midrange enactment),
and 3 = enacting (higher level of enactment). Across the five instructional
domains, the highest total score a teacher could receive would be 15 (Level 3
on five domains).
Two researchers reached a 90% interrater reliability level before scoring
the videotaped lessons. We calculated mean scores for each focal new teacher
on each instructional dimension and conducted t tests to determine the statis-
tical significance of differences in the two focal teachers’ mean scores for each
dimension. We also calculated the means for the three new teachers in each
district on each instructional dimension and conducted t tests to determine the
statistical significances of between-district differences.
When patterns of teacher tracking emerged from the case studies, we
questioned if the patterns extended beyond the two districts involved in the
study. Thus, to assess the relationships between districts’ demographic pro-
files and literacy program adoptions, we collected and analyzed data from the
California Department of Education and the publishers of the two elementary
literacy programs adopted and sanctioned by California. We identified district/
school demographic profiles from the state database, highlighting the free/
reduced lunch and minority student percentages in districts across the entire
state of California that had adopted the different literacy programs. We also
analyzed data from a random sample of schools (n = 34) in the Los Angeles
Unified School District to compare the literacy adoptions of schools with dif-
ferent demographic profiles.
Results
To explore the socialization of new teachers, we begin with the teachers and
move outward into the environment. We start by examining the beliefs and
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Teacher Tracking
practices of two new teachers in two districts. We explore the impact of
socialization forces, beginning with the teachers’ backgrounds and their selec-
tion of schools and districts. In addition, we investigate other new teachers in
the districts and find similar patterns. We then move to local conditions, high-
lighting recruitment strategies and differences in capital, professional cultures,
responses to state policy messages, and performance on accountability mea-
sures. Finally, we describe California’s recent accountability and instructional
policies that inform district practices and explore the multilevel processes
that can create conditions for two different induction experiences for new
teachers.
Two Teachers’ Beliefs

Liz and Sam were new elementary teachers working only 30 miles apart, yet
held very different beliefs regarding students, learning, and teaching. Liz’s con-
ceptions of students were linked to ability, motivation, family background, and
on-task behavior. She distinguished between students in the following way:
“In my class, some students are gifted, some need a lot of extra help, some are
always on task, and some are hardly ever on task.” When asked to describe
her third-grade students, Liz responded, “Some students have very supportive
families and value education. These students seem more motivated to work
hard than those whose parents show less support.”
Liz also noted, “I’ve definitely experienced feeling uncertain, especially
since I wasn’t credentialed when I started teaching. I was kind of learning as
I was going.” She developed her ideas about teaching literacy by “sticking to
the [district-adopted, Open Court] literacy program. I just started teaching the
reading program the way [the Open Court coaches] taught me to teach it.” A
coach met with Liz during lunch breaks to answer questions and model
instruction. Liz liked to teach literacy primarily “through direct instruction and
then some independent work time.” She relied on the district-adopted literacy
program’s teacher guides, scripts, and teacher tool cards. According to a grade-
level colleague, Liz stuck “closer to the script” than some teachers. Liz
explained how the text “is very step by step. It’s definitely in a routine, so each
week I’m doing pretty much the same things. The kids know what to expect.”
She appreciated the structure:
The fact that it’s really structured I think has been really good for me
as a new teacher because there’s so much to plan as a new teacher.
Everything’s pretty much planned for me. I just need to kind of pre-
pare and look over it. But it’s not like I have to come up with a lesson
plan all on my own.
In contrast, Liz found it difficult to teach social studies because the program in
that subject “was not as structured. I had to think of things on my own about
what I wanted to do.”
Sam described his approach to teaching as “student centered.” He
sought to make “personal connections” with his fifth-grade students in order
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Achinstein et al.
to “bring kids’ own lives into the classroom.” Sam emphasized the impor-
tance of creating a “community of learners” and stressed the significance of
“empowering students with choice.” Sam explained that he “figures out
where the kids are, their skills and abilities, and then I help them to
improve.” Sam described his approach to literacy as “balanced literacy,”
which incorporated reading, writing, and word study, including in each an
“element that is modeled by me. . . . There is a shared component where we
do it together. . . . There’s an independent part where kids show their levels
of understanding; I get my assessment from this. For those who are not inde-
pendent, there is a guided level.”
Sam described himself as a person who learns from personal chal-
lenges as well as formal professional development opportunities. In describ-
ing his first year of teaching, Sam noted that “I struggled. But there’s a quote
somewhere that says, ‘through strife comes success and confidence and self-
assurance.’ So I feel like, because I had to go through those trials by fire, I
have a better understanding of what I’m teaching and why.” Sam also exper-
imented with strategies he had learned in professional development activi-
ties. For example, his exposure to writer’s workshop approaches and a
network on leadership in literacy changed his conceptions of teaching writ-
ing by offering him a philosophy that mirrored his hopes for his own and
his students’ learning: “The students have much greater opportunity for
choice, creativity, and it really helps them in the development of their own
personal voice, to know themselves and realize what they bring as writers,
and where they want to grow. They think of themselves as writers.”
Sam valued his autonomy and expertise: “I like having my freedom to
teach in my own way. I don’t want the district to say this is our program and
you are going to follow it.” Moreover:
I don’t think I’d be in the profession if [I had to do a scripted pro-

gram]. I have more respect for myself than to have somebody tell me
how I have to teach. I’m a pretty well educated person. I’m pretty
intelligent. I worked hard to get enough education so that I could
teach well.
Sam also commented on the challenge of having to construct his own pro-
gram. The “amount of time and thought” put into his planning and teaching,
in Sam’s words, was “absolutely astronomical.”
Teacher Practices
Liz and Sam engaged in very different instructional practices that reflected their
beliefs as well as their schools’ and districts’ curricular choices. Two examples
of their teaching illustrate these differences. Both teachers employed a “writer’s
workshop.” The following excerpt from Liz’s lesson demonstrates her focus on
the routine mechanics of writing and student behavior. In her interaction with
Maria, a Latina student (S. = student), Liz was teaching paragraphing, gram-
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Teacher Tracking
mar, and indentation skills and monitoring off-task behaviors (T. = teacher).
She veered little from the script and pacing guides.
T.: Maria, is that what you’re supposed to be doing? OK. Then you can’t have
this anymore [teacher takes a paper away]. What should you be doing right
now?
T.: Are you ready for someone to read it? Is the story finished?
S.: Yes.
T.: Have you done your paragraphs? Have you edited it to make sure every-
thing’s exactly right? Spelling, paragraphs, grammar, everything? Where are
your paragraphs? Where does your second paragraph start? OK, what you
need to do, because I’m not seeing paragraphs, is you need to go through
and show me where your paragraphs are going to start. I don’t get it. . . . Do
you know what paragraphs are? What is it?
S.: It’s, umm, a sentence and another sentence and then you make a paragraph.
T.: OK, how many sentences are in a paragraph? Three, four, or five. Once you
get to the end of your paragraph, how do you start a new paragraph? What
do you do when you start a new paragraph besides a capital?
S.: [silent]
T.: You indent. How do you indent?
S.: Finger space.
T.: One finger space. So I’m not seeing indentations in places that they need
to be. . . . Maria, leave your shirt alone and focus on your story.
In contrast, Sam employed “writer’s workshop” to situate students as

authors, brainstorming ideas and supporting students’ efforts to extend their
ideas. He set the tone in his class for creative thinking that generated choice
and opportunities for students to write about their own lives. Sam read a story
he wrote about his own grandmother to model. He also worked to create a
community of learners, encouraging collaboration among the students. He
adjusted the curriculum to the needs of the students, deviating from plans
when a small group was challenged to come up with a topic. Finally, Sam
worked with an English-language learner, Manuel, using the student’s own
language, story, and assets, to build his writing confidence.
T.: Tell me about the story you are thinking of, Manuel.
S.: It’s about this music.
T.: Is that a trumpet. . . . Are they shaped like this? Draw a picture. . . . What’s
the Spanish word? Write that down.
S.: I don’t know that.
T.: I’ll write it: “trompeta.” What made you think of that story? Did your dad teach
you how to play trompeta? Does he have any stories about the things that
happened when he was playing it?
S.: My dad did play it with his friends for money, and he showed me.
T.: Really? Let’s talk about all the parts of this seed of your story—how you and
your dad used to play trompeta with friends, played for money, taught you
how to do it.
Liz and Sam also differed in their approaches to reading instruction. In

October, Liz’s students were learning the routines of a reading program that
569
Achinstein et al.
involved word recognition before a choral read of an excerpt from their
anthologies. They spent 20 minutes responding collectively as Liz sat next to
an overhead projector holding her teacher’s edition.
T.: I’m going to write some words up here that you might know or you
might not know. As I write it I want you to sound it out in your
head, and then when I say “What’s the word?” you say it. What’s the
word?
Students: [in unison] Skimming.
T.: Word?
Students: Wrapping.
T.: What’s the word?
Students: Switching.
T.: Word?
Students: [repeat word]
T.: Good. I’m going to point to words randomly and I want you to say it
out loud please. Eyes up here. Word?
Students: [repeat word]
The students were learning how to blend the words and went on to try to
identify their meaning through context clues in the text they read chorally.
This was the routine that began the introduction of each new story they read.
In the following days, they would read excerpts chorally and respond to
closed-ended recall questions that often solicited one-word answers.
In contrast, in October, Sam sat with a group of six students who leaned
forward in deep discussion about Nightjohn, a book about the Underground
Railroad and slavery.
S. (Carla): I think it’s bad that they punished Nightjohn like that.
S.: I disagree because that’s just how it was back then.
S.: I also disagree with Carla, because he must have done something to
deserve a punishment like that.
T.: What do you think he had to do to get a punishment like that?
S.: Something really bad. My dad says to get a punishment it must be
really bad.
T.: I think that’s interesting. Because this book is about slavery, right?
Slavery was really unfair and I don’t think that the punishment always
did fit the crime.
S.: He must have done some crime to get the punishment.
T.: What did he do?
S.: [looks to book] He was reading.
T.: And did that deserve the kind of punishment he received, do you
think? Nat, what do you think? . . . Now, back then that was the way
things were. But was that fair? What do you think? Say what you think.
Here’s the thing, are you [Nat] the same as she [Carla] is? As me? No.
This is why getting a group together can be so powerful. You can
hear lots of different opinions.
This conversation captures how Sam encouraged his students to interpret and
question their “reading” of literature. They learned about multiple perspec-
570
Table 2
Liz and Sam: Mean Classroom Discourse Scores (Item Scale: 0–3)
Opportunities
Teacher Teacher for student Literacy Variation of
questioning uptake talk development instruction Total
Liz 1.1* 0* 1.3 1.2* 0.1* 3.6*

Sam 2.1* 1.6* 1.5 2.5* 2* 9.8*
Note. 0 = no evidence, 1 = emerging, 2 = developing, 3 = enacting. “Total” represents sum of

all five categories, with the highest possible score being 15.
*p ≤ .001.
tives from their peers, challenged each other, and developed their thinking
in relation to literature.
These excerpts reflect the teachers’ dominant instructional stances, which
were revealed in observations of 11 literacy lessons 1 to 2 hours in duration
over the course of 2 years (for each teacher). Using a scoring rubric adapted
from the SPC, we compared the two teachers’ practices. We found significant
differences in the teachers’ questioning (see Table 2): Sam asked more higher
order questions than Liz. Sam also demonstrated more extension of students’
comments in teacher uptake. While some of the variation in teacher ques-
tioning might be attributed to differences in the third- and fifth-grade curric-
ula, Liz’s uptake was dominated by brief evaluation and no extension. We also
found significant differences in literacy development and variation. Liz em-
ployed routine literacy drills with lower cognitive levels of complexity and
rarely varied or modified her instruction in response to students. Sam included
opportunities for challenging thinking in relation to literacy development and
varied his instruction to meet students’ needs.
Sam also demonstrated greater change in his practice over 2 years. Along
the rubric, of a possible 15 points representing the highest level of enactment,
Sam’s total score increased from 8.5 to 10.2, while Liz’s score increased from
3.0 to 3.78 (see Table 3).
Liz taught toward subject matter standards and employed explicit and
direct instruction. Repetition and routine characterized her teaching. Students
recited passages, read chorally, and employed the language and routines of
Open Court. Liz, holding her teachers’ guide, stood by the overhead projec-
tor or roamed the room to check whether students were following along with
the group. She paid explicit attention to preparing her students for stan-
dardized testing, taking them through test reviews. She reported that, in the
case of the teachers at her school, “everybody is just so used to [this testing],
it’s like a routine.” The lessons we observed tended to emphasize lower
order thinking skills: recall, memorization, and decoding. One rare occasion
in which Liz considered individual students’ needs arose from her recognizing
that “higher performing students were bored.” However, Liz continued to
employ direct, scripted instruction to teach to the whole class.
571
Table 3
Liz and Sam: Changes in Mean Classroom Discourse Scores
(Item Scale: 0–3)
Opportunities
questioning uptake talk development instruction Total
Liz
Year 1 1 0 1 1 0 3
Year 2 1.1 0 1.3 1.2 0.1 3.78
Change 0.1 0 0.3 0.2 0.1 0.78
Sam
Year 1 2 1.5 1.5 2 1.5 8.5
Year 2 2.1 1.7 1.6 2.7 2.1 10.2
Change 0.1 0.2 0.1 0.7 0.6 1.7

all five categories.
Sam was also teaching to the standards but was more student centered
and less tied to one particular instructional approach than Liz. This is reflected
in his choice of instructional strategies, attention to individual students, and
incorporation of student talk. Sam experimented with a variety of teaching
methods and configurations of students. For example, he regularly led litera-
ture circles in which he employed different student groupings and differenti-
ated instruction. In working with groups, Sam was often concerned with his
lowest performing students and how he might best help them. He also varied
his instruction in responding to students’ comments. He continually turned to
students who needed more scaffolding, including checking for understanding
and translating instructions into Spanish for second-language learners. Sam
often posed questions aimed at stimulating students’ higher order thinking. He
asked students to explain, interpret, and at times engage in original and eval-
uative thinking with each other.
Individual Influences: New Teacher Backgrounds

What might explain the contrasts in these new teachers’ beliefs and practices?
We first turn to the teachers’ backgrounds to explain these differences. Liz is
a White woman in her early 20s who attended an elementary school in the
district and a private Catholic high school in the same community in which
she teaches and now lives. Liz became a teacher because she “enjoyed work-
ing with children.” She attended a state university in her community, where
she was briefly introduced to ideas about “teaching the sounds of letters, mul-
ticultural education, and ideas about grouping students.” Although she lacked
a credential, Liz worked as a long-term substitute at Field Elementary and was
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Teacher Tracking
hired as a full-time teacher at midyear. After securing her position, Liz pur-
sued a credential through a program offered by a university located in another
part of the state. During her first 2 years of teaching, she took one or two
courses a term at night and on weekends. She applied to teach in the district
because she had attended school there and was living nearby. She said, “I
wasn’t recruited, I just kind of applied.” When asked what makes a good
teacher, Liz noted “patience and just a desire to help others.”
Sam is a White man in his mid-20s who grew up in an affluent com-
munity in northern California, where he attended both public and private
schools (Montessori). While most of his schooling was “pretty traditional,”
he described a pivotal experience in the fifth grade that shaped how he
thinks about teaching literacy and highlights his commitment to building a
community of learners and constructivist teaching. “Being a part of a litera-
ture circle in which we read Fahrenheit 451 was a defining moment in think-
ing about teaching and learning and teaching kids literacy. . . . Instead of
reading aloud round robin, I got to talk with my peers and with the teacher
as a peer rather than a teacher telling us this is how it is.” Sam earned his
teaching credential and master’s degree at the research university adjacent
to the district in which he teaches. Its program emphasized literacy and
reflective practice. Sam explained that he “felt recruited by the district and
principal” to teach at Hill School after the principal was made aware of him
from his student teaching site’s principal. He noted that good teachers can
“empower students to lead richer lives with literacy.”
Aspects of Liz’s and Sam’s backgrounds seem consistent with and even
foreshadow their professional beliefs and practices. Liz’s lack of credential
made her district’s scripted reading program appealing because it provided
extensive resources and directions. Her Catholic school experiences may
have contributed to her beliefs and practices about teaching that focused
on structure and routines. Liz began working at Field School as a substitute
teacher because she lives in the area. In contrast, Sam’s background in a
more affluent community and private school, as well as his “pivotal” edu-
cational experience, may have shaped his student-centered, higher order
focused teaching beliefs and practices. His teacher credential program at a
research university reinforced his progressive educational views. Finally, his
teacher education program connected him to Hill School, where he would
take his first teaching job in part because he was comfortable with the dis-
trict’s educational philosophy.
Other New Teachers

Thus, it is possible that Liz’s and Sam’s professional differences can be traced
to differences in their personal and professional backgrounds. To further
explore this point, we analyzed the instructional practices and professional
backgrounds of four other new teachers: one at Liz’s school, one at Sam’s
school, one in Liz’s district but at a different school, and one in Sam’s district
573
Table 4
New Teachers in Districts A and B:
Mean Classroom Discourse Scores (Item Scale: 0–3)
Opportunities
District questioning uptake talk development instruction Total
District A
(3 teachers) 1.0 0.17* 1.17 1.33 0.17* 3.84*
District B
(3 teachers) 1.67 1.0* 1.33 1.83 1.5* 7.33*

all five categories.
*p ≤ .05.
but at a different school. The classroom observations of the set of three new
teachers in District A and three new teachers in District B revealed patterns
replicating the differences in Sam’s and Liz’s instructional practices. The
teachers in District B, where Sam taught, employed uptake that extended stu-
dents’ thinking and varied their instruction in response to student needs far
more than teachers in District A, where Liz taught. District B had a higher
total mean classroom discourse score than District A (see Table 4).
We also explored the educational backgrounds of the other novices who
took part in our study. Again, we uncovered patterns suggesting differences
in the districts’ teacher workforces. For instance, two of the three new teach-
ers we studied in Sam’s district held master’s degrees and had attended
research universities. The other one had attended a private university. None
of the three new teachers we studied in Liz’s district held master’s degrees,
and all had attended less prestigious state universities. These differences
between the instructional practices and educational backgrounds of the teach-
ers in the two districts suggest that district and perhaps school contexts may
also contribute to shaping the socialization of new teachers.
District and School Contexts

The two new teachers featured in this study worked in school and district
contexts that differed on four related dimensions. First, the districts’ hiring
practices differed. Second, the districts possessed different amounts of cap-
ital. Third, they were characterized by different professional cultures. Fourth,
they differed in regard to performance on state testing and accountability
measures. All four aspects influenced how the districts recruited teachers,
provided professional development opportunities, and responded to state
accountability and instructional policies, thus directly and indirectly affect-
ing the socialization of new teachers.
574
Table 5
District A and B New Teacher Survey
Responses Regarding Background
Background District A (n = 10) District B (n = 9)
Ethnicity 5 Latino, 2 White, 2 Asian, 7 White, 2 no response

1 no response
Credential status 20% clear credential 77% clear credential
70% preliminary credential 22% preliminary credential
10% emergency credential 0% emergency credential
Highest education 10% master’s degree 44% master’s degree
Note. Responses were from a new teacher induction survey administered through the mentor-
ing program.
The two districts differed in their recruitment practices and, consequently, the
types of teachers they hired. Both are attributable, in part, to differences in the
districts’ capital and professional cultures (a point we pursue later). According
to district administrators, District A worked to “grow our own” by recruiting
individuals from the local community. “We want our teacher ranks to more
reflect our student demographics, so we’re really bringing back our own peo-
ple that have graduated from our own high school. . . . They’re usually 25% of
our staff.” Often, this meant hiring local products who, although they reflected
the racial and linguistic diversity of their students, may have lacked extended
preprofessional preparation or complete credentials (see Table 5 for demo-
graphic data on new teachers). Moreover, the school and district had approx-
imately 80% fully credentialed teachers (Table 6).
In contrast, District B’s recruitment strategy drew on its relations with
sources outside the district. As a district administrator explained:
Basically we have very close connections to the universities, espe-

cially to [a research university with a master’s/teacher education pro-
gram]. So we tend to send feelers out to get the best people that we
can initially. We also have two teachers who are on loan from our
district to work in the university as supervisors. So we try to tap into
them to siphon off the best people for ourselves. So we do a lot of
active recruitment.
District B employed this strategy to recruit teachers whose philosophy was

consistent with the district’s professional culture. According to a district
respondent, “When we hire somebody new we let them know . . . our phi-
losophy and what our program is all about, and if it’s a mismatch then we
don’t hire them. So it’s kind of almost like there’s this culture of this district
that we’re known as the staff development district and people come here for
that reason.”
575
Table 6
Percentages of Fully Credentialed Teachers
at District and School Sites
Level Site A Site B
School 80.6 96.3

District 82.1 93.0
Note. Data include all teachers (i.e., new and experienced).
Cross-district comparisons revealed that differences in hiring practices led

in turn to substantial differences in the districts’ teacher workforces. A higher
proportion of District A’s new teachers were from minority backgrounds, while
a higher proportion of District B’s new teachers had earned clear credentials
and master’s degrees (Table 5). More generally, District B hired a higher pro-
portion of teachers, both new and experienced, with clear credentials than did
District A (Table 6).
The two new teachers on which this study focused reflected these hiring
patterns. Liz was hired, despite lacking a credential, in part because she was
a “local,” had subbed at the school, and fit the “grow your own” philosophy.
By contrast, Sam matched his district’s philosophy and possessed a credential
and graduate degree from a research university with which the district had a
strong relationship. Thus, the types of teachers employed by the two districts
were the result of an interaction between the new teachers’ backgrounds,
which affected their educational and employment choices, and the districts’
hiring practices, which were aimed at hiring teachers such as Liz and Sam by
Districts A and B, respectively.
Capital
The two districts differed in the amounts of physical, human, social, and cul-
tural capital they possessed. District A had lesser amounts of all types of
capital than did District B. Differences in capital contribute to differences in
districts’ hiring strategies, instructional cultures, and responses to state policies,
all of which color the socialization of new teachers.
District A’s relative lack of physical capital is most directly reflected in
its spending 20% less per student than District B (see Table 1). District A was
hit hard by the state’s budget crisis and often lacked resources for profes-
sional development. As a result of these budget concerns, Liz was released
at the end of her second year of teaching, although eventually she was
rehired. In the past, District A had received a grant from a foundation that
solicited the district’s involvement in a particular reading program. The dis-
trict targeted its Title I, II, and III funds toward adding human capital by pay-
ing for professional development. Professional development in literacy was
limited to providing teachers with a few days of workshop training from the
textbook publisher, program coaching, an induction mentor, and monthly
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Teacher Tracking
articulation days to discuss implementation of the program. Thus, profes-
sional development focused on implementing the district-adopted literacy
program, learning common practices, and examining test results. After the
most recent cuts, the district could no longer afford the kind of coaching pre-
viously offered in its literacy program.
District A’s social capital is reflected by its inward focus, which tended
to foster collaboration within and across schools rather than beyond district
boundaries. The cultural capital of Liz’s district is reflected in its relatively high
percentage of students from low-income (57% free lunch) and minority (56%)
backgrounds. A district administrator reported that a subsidized housing proj-
ect changed the community’s demographic profile from being “about 30%
Latino to close to 70% Latino. . . . A lot of Anglo and non-language minority
families moved out and were replaced by Latinos.” She reported that families
of about one third of the district’s students were migrant farm workers.
Indeed, district data revealed a 28% student mobility rate. This shift reduced
the district’s cultural capital because, as one district respondent explained,
“we tend to find with immigrant families . . . there’s a reverence toward the
school personnel, but there’s also this ‘I don’t have much to contribute.’ ”
By comparison, District B possessed a greater amount of capital in all
of its forms. Despite the state’s budget crisis, District B employed a full-time
grant writer to build physical capital. According to a district administrator,
“We look for every kind of funding source that we can that fits our ends. It’s
one of the reasons why we’re the only district in the county that is econom-
ically viable.” As a result, District B’s literacy program was supported by mul-
tiple foundations, and, as reported subsequently, the district was inventive
in its use of state funds. District B invested its physical capital to expand
human capital through professional development and teacher leadership.
The district targeted its funding from Title I, III, and VII federal programs
toward professional development in literacy that brought literacy experts to
work with teachers. In addition, it released experienced teachers to work as
literacy coaches and induction mentors. Grade-level inquiry and learning
teams met weekly. Teachers were involved in leadership development in lit-
eracy through a network. District B was a demonstration site for Reading
Recovery, employed several nationally board-certified teachers and coaches,
and promoted action research groups.
District B’s social capital is reflected in an outward focus that engaged
literacy experts in California and other states throughout the country, as well
as Australia and New Zealand, who connected the district to a dense net-
work of reform-minded, professional groups, including a nearby research
university. A district administrator explained that he “was able to push a
foundation sponsoring a literacy teacher leadership network to work with us
as a partner district even though they weren’t working in our geographic
area.” While District B served students from diverse backgrounds, its per-
centage of students from minority (43%) and low-income (33%) backgrounds
and its student mobility rate (15%) were lower than those of District A,
reflecting a difference in cultural capital. Indeed, respondents described
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Achinstein et al.
District B as serving families ranging from some with low incomes to some
in the middle and some in the high range, who lived in beachfront homes.
Thus, the districts in which Liz and Sam worked possessed different lev-
els of capital, which, as explained later, contributed to differences in the social-
ization of new teachers. Liz’s district had less physical capital and could invest
less in professional development and, thus, human capital. Sam’s district used
its physical and social capital to engage outside experts and their divergent
perspectives, thus adding human capital. However, the greatest impact of cap-
ital on teacher socialization may be indirect, in that district wealth (amount of
available capital) affects three important socialization factors: teacher hiring
strategies, district professional culture, and district response to state policy. As
noted earlier, school systems, such as District A, with less capital (and a “hard-
to-staff” status, a need to limit costs, and an interest in recruiting teachers from
local communities) tend to hire teachers with limited preparation, while higher
capital systems, such as District B, employ their capital to recruit new teach-
ers who have received extensive preprofessional preparation and are fully
credentialed.
Professional Culture
Differences in capital are also reflected in the districts’ professional cultures,
which promoted divergent conceptions of learning and teaching. Cultural
differences were reflected in districts’ views of new teachers, quantities and
qualities of professional development, and opportunities for collaboration.
District A was marked by a culture in which teachers were viewed as
accountable to externally defined policies. As noted by one administrator,
state and district accountability raised the bar from “whatever I’ve been able
to scrounge up and put together from my program to we have a structured
program, agreed upon assessments, and standards.”
District A respondents emphasized structure, routines, and control. Liz’s
colleague described the first learning task of novice teachers as “learning how
to get off and on the bus. That is, you have to learn how to follow the pro-
cedures of the school.” Liz’s principal identified the two programs that had
the greatest influence on his thinking about new teachers’ needs: Madeline
Hunter on structured lesson plans and Lee Cantor on classroom management.
Both emphasize routine, structure, and control. Using a technical metaphor,
the principal explained that the adoption of the scripted literacy program was
important for new teachers because it “gives teachers all the resources and
tools they need, filling their tool belt.” The literacy coordinator agreed that
novices could simply enact the curriculum without having to understand it.
District A offered Liz limited professional development, almost all of
which focused on implementation of the district-adopted reading program
sanctioned by the state. Collaboration meant “getting on the same page” as
one’s grade-level colleagues. Liz explained that the textbook was her great-
est source of information for teaching literacy. Because she entered teaching
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Teacher Tracking
as a substitute, she never received formal workshop training in Open Court
but did have an Open Court literacy coach who answered questions about
implementation. Liz participated in a teacher induction program that pro-
vided a mentor during her first 2 years. Liz’s mentors had worked in her
school or district and understood the local context. They did not focus on
instructional matters. Instead, they discussed student issues (when Liz had a
new set of students), parent concerns, and problems about being rehired. In
Year 2, Liz noted, “I don’t think I needed so much from my mentor because
I finished my credential program. I knew how to set up my program.”
In her first year, Liz reported having approximately 10 contacts with her
literacy coach, including 10-minute sessions at lunch. In her second year, the
coach taught Liz’s class once and observed Liz twice to help her learn Open
Court strategies. Liz also participated in semimonthly grade-level meetings
and biannual district articulation days during which cross-school, grade-level
teams met. In these meetings, teachers rarely focused on instructional dilem-
mas. Rather, they coordinated instructional schedules to “make sure we’re
doing everything the same way.” Liz noted of her grade-level meetings, “We
look at our calendar for the year and look at the times when we’re not going
to be able to teach the program . . . when we’ll end this unit and start the next
unit. We try to generally stay in the same place.”
In contrast, the professional culture of District B, which employed Sam,
emphasized “creativity,” professional autonomy, thinking, and capacity build-
ing. In describing what the district wants in new teachers, Sam’s principal
explained, “Teachers that we hire are very creative and capable. We need to
give teachers opportunities to use their creativity to really think about their
teaching and kids.” The district literacy coach concurred: “Teachers are intel-
ligent human beings and go into the profession because they love to learn.
They have creativity.” Sam’s literacy coach viewed the absence of a scripted
reading program as a plus for Sam: “Not having a lock step program afforded
him the opportunity to explore what he was going to do and think that through
by looking at the students.” Sam’s principal also saw “leadership potential” in
Sam and expressed an interest in “developing this capacity.” Even though Sam
was a new teacher, the principal had him assume the “acting principal” role
when she was away from the building.
District B’s emphasis on capacity building was evident in its investment
in professional development. Sam enjoyed numerous professional develop-
ment activities that emphasized inquiry and co-construction of knowledge.
District B used social and physical capital to develop a dense infrastructure
that contributed to the development of teachers’ human capital. Professional
development resources included consultants, embedded and sustained
coaching, team collaboration, reading academies, action research groups,
membership in reform networks, and university affiliation. The district had
long encouraged teachers to bring professional development into the district,
built capacity with outside experts, and developed teacher leadership.
According to Sam’s mentor, “We are extremely knowledgeable and infused
579
Achinstein et al.
in a literacy world beyond our district. . . . We have people in staff develop-
ment in Arkansas, Ohio, Australia, New Zealand, and all over the world.”
One of Sam’s colleagues, who also taught at the university, explained
that new teachers are attracted to the district because they “know they’ll get
the professional development support they need.” Sam worked with a district
literacy coach who was released half time from her classroom to support
other teachers. He also participated in the teacher induction program, which
provided mentoring during his first 2 years in teaching. In addition, the pro-
gram enabled Sam to observe teachers in other schools and districts, which
was his most powerful source of professional development. He experimented
with approaches he observed. One of his mentors in this program was nation-
ally board certified and a district literacy expert. Weekly, they co-planned
lessons, developed literature circles and writer’s workshops, and discussed
literacy theories in relation to Sam’s students.
When Sam began teaching at Hill School, he, along with the whole fac-
ulty, participated in monthly Extended Early Literacy Learning professional
development. At these daylong meetings, Extended Early Literacy Learning
frameworks were explored, lessons were modeled, the program’s philosophy
and supporting research were discussed, inquiry was fostered, and opportu-
nities were provided for teacher practice and reflection throughout the year.
Sam was also involved in a network that sponsored bimonthly writer’s work-
shop seminars. This network provided books and articles and involved visits
to demonstration sites. Sam was involved in Saturday literacy and technology
workshops as well.
In addition, Sam participated in monthly grade-level meetings at which
teachers discussed the state’s literacy frameworks. In staff meetings, teachers
debated approaches. Fifth-grade teachers in Sam’s school held daily, informal
meetings wherein Sam worked closely with two of his colleagues, Amy and
Ted. The three designed lessons, debated ideas, and generally challenged
each other.
Liz and Sam are coming to learn what it means to be a teacher in two dif-
ferent cultures that (a) provide different resources for students and teachers,
(b) differ in regard to the quality and quantity of professional learning oppor-
tunities, (c) have different expectations for students and teachers, and (d) pro-
mote different instructional practices. Liz is viewed as a novice who needs to
learn procedures and is in need of routines, skills, and tools; Sam is viewed
as autonomous, creative, and a leader. Sam received extensive professional
development from both external and internal sources, providing a variety of
perspectives and opportunities for experimentation; Liz received textbook-
focused support and collaboration around a common program. These dif-
ferent professional cultures involve trade-offs for new teachers: using an
already-developed program versus developing an instructional repertoire and
seeking instructional coherence with other teachers versus co-constructing
knowledge and debating ideas with colleagues. Liz and Sam each felt sup-
ported in their districts’ cultures, but their socialization resulted in their having
very different beliefs and instructional practices.
580
Responses to state policies
Another dimension on which the districts differed was their response to state
instructional policies. According to District A’s superintendent, “When the
state said get on the train, by God, you got on a train or else.” In contrast, Dis-
trict B buffered itself from and even challenged state instructional policies that
did not align with its instructional commitments. A district resource teacher in
District B explained, “Such a knowledge base and depth in literacy meant that
we didn’t have to worry about shifting gears under state changes. . . . We see
through the politics and feel grounded in where we are.”
The difference in the districts’ responses to the policy environment was
illustrated well by their 2002 textbook adoptions. In the spring of 1996, a
team of teachers in District A had selected a textbook. They returned in the
fall to find that administrators had rescinded their decision and chosen Open
Court because its adoption was supported by a foundation grant. The foun-
dation specified Open Court; it also stipulated strong control mechanisms of
accountability and monitoring by coaches. One teacher noted that some
teachers initially saw these coaches as “ ‘Open Court Police,’ making you stay
on the same pace and on text.” Teachers eventually supported the program
because it improved the test scores of primary-grade students. The director
of curriculum and instruction reported that “once we got over the hump,
people were really seeing we had gains in student achievement on tests; they
said maybe there’s something about this.”
District A was keenly aware of state and federal accountability measures.
According to Liz’s principal, “The state accountability came into play. You’re
talking about API [Academic Performance Index], where you’re performing
relative to other schools and now you got it coming from the federal gov-
ernment with No Child Left Behind. It’s critical that we’re preparing kids for
tests.” Educators saw the adoption of Open Court as a way to both improve
the academic performance of underserved students and address state and fed-
eral accountability measures. Liz’s principal noted that, before Open Court
was adopted, “there just wasn’t a coherent system going on at any school, at
any particular grade level that made sure that at minimum kids were receiv-
ing important skills to develop their reading.” The district readopted the series
in 2002, when the state provided funds to purchase one of two state-approved
programs, a decision reinforced by the district’s lack of capital.
District A’s adoption of Open Court exerted a profound influence on Liz’s
socialization. This program emphasizes “teacher-directed instruction” and “sys-
tematic sequencing” aligned with state standards. Teachers’ experiences with
Open Court mirrored the routine it provided students, that is, curriculum-
centered, direct instruction emphasizing high levels of routine. Liz was given
10 teacher guides with procedures for directing student activities. Liz’s mentor
noted, “Open Court is so scripted, it tells teachers exactly what to do. But when
I’m doing it I don’t know if kids aren’t getting it. There is no stopping to check
for understanding.”
Although District B faced the same policy pressures, it responded by
refusing to adopt either of the state-sanctioned literacy programs and instead
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Achinstein et al.
reinforced its own approach to literacy instruction. According to a literacy
coach, the district replied to an invitation from the foundation sponsoring the
adoption of Open Court by asking “How about you give us the money and
let us do what we want? Then let us measure the results over time to com-
pare.” When the foundation responded that only Open Court was acceptable,
District B declined the invitation.
In describing the most recent round of textbook adoptions, respondents
in District B expressed pride in not having adopted a state-adopted literacy
program that did not fit their instructional philosophy. A district-wide team
investigated the two reading programs approved by the state to assess the
“fit with their literacy approaches.” The team decided that neither of the two
programs adopted by the state added to the district’s approach but did pur-
chase a few books from the Houghton Mifflin series (one of the state-adopted
programs) to augment existing materials. Team members were clear about
“not buying the teacher guides.” Sam’s mentor observed that the district’s lit-
eracy program may be “conflicting with the political climate and the direc-
tion that the state’s going right now.” However, he added, “To tell you the
truth, we kind of like that. Our district has always been a little bit different
and we’re kind of proud of that.” According to another teacher:
Two things did not jibe. One was the students in the class are all on
the same book at the same time and that’s totally against what we
believe as far as reading. We know that the kids all have different
needs; we’re really into differentiating curriculum. The other thing is
that the teacher guides were very specific on what you do and when
you do it. We do not believe that’s the way to administer programs.
A district literacy coach agreed: “Teachers are insulted by scripted programs.”

To resist state policy pressures, District B drew on capital reserves not
available in District A. District B, with its somewhat higher amount of physi-
cal capital, could reject state dollars targeted for purchasing reading texts. Fur-
thermore, a decade earlier, District B had revised its approach to literacy
instruction to improve the reading achievement of its students. Teachers
enhanced the district’s social and human capital by seeking out literacy experts
from around the world, who provided new ideas and connected the district to
professional networks including the Early Literacy Project (Fountas & Pinnell,
1995), the California Early Literacy Learning and Extended Early Literacy Learn-
ing Program (Klein, 1997), and Reading Recovery from New Zealand (Clay,
1987). Drawing on their new knowledge, or human capital, teacher leaders
developed a “balanced literacy approach” that involved multiple strategies,
including modeled, guided, shared, and independent reading and writing. This
approach emphasized comprehension and meaning making. The district’s
commitment to these principles enabled it to resist state instructional policies.
The director of curriculum and instruction also explained how the district’s
human capital enabled it to reject the state’s programs by contrasting his situ-
ation with other districts in “high poverty situations, unable to get highly qual-
582
Teacher Tracking
ified teachers” where the “scripted programs may work.” “We’ve never had a
problem attracting high-quality teachers to our district and we’ve really had
this focus of consistently high-quality professional development programs for
literacy, so we feel like, why would we go with something different?”
This stance is evident in the inventive approaches District B took to
accumulating physical capital to develop and enhance its literacy program.
The director of curriculum and instruction described an interesting twist on
“being designated [as] underperforming” by the state. He and others noted
that Hill School, where Sam teaches, “chose to become” involved in a pro-
gram for underperforming schools (although the school’s growth scores
placed it “only a smidgen under the mark”) in order to gain resources then
used for professional development in the district’s own literacy approaches.
Performance on State Testing and Accountability Measures

The districts’ responses to state policies were also shaped by their performance
on state testing and accountability measures. Students in District B outper-
formed students in District A on state-adopted standardized achievement tests,
as indicated by their Academic Performance Index (API). District A’s lower per-
formance on these measures resulted in greater pressures to improve. Only 8%
of its schools were ranked 6–10 (10 is high) on accountability measures, as
compared with 80% of District B’s schools (see Table 1). District administra-
tors and the Site A principal noted the importance of addressing the “political
realm” of testing and accountability. Liz’s principal explained, “Because it all
comes out in the newspapers and that’s the thing the parents look at: How is
my school doing in API? How are they doing in standardized testing?” The
assistant superintendent in District A noted how accountability was connected
to recent testing pressures and federal legislation: “Right now we’re looking at
benchmarks on kids and whether they meet benchmarks. They put all the data
on kids on the walls . . . the next step is we expect X amount of growth per
year per child. We wouldn’t have gone there if it weren’t that No Child Left
Behind is pushing us to . . . but it’s a good thing, not entirely bad.” This pub-
lic pressure to improve test scores made the state-sanctioned texts all the more
appealing. When District A respondents discussed Open Court, they high-
lighted the program’s ability to raise test scores.
District B’s higher API scores may have afforded it greater latitude in
rejecting state literacy texts. Sam’s principal noted the consistent improve-
ments in student achievement scores in the school and district. Furthermore,
district leaders set the tone for responding to state accountability and testing
policies. As one administrator explained, “It’s my leadership and the teacher
leaders in our district that take a deep breath. There’s not that much on these
tests, it’s actually pretty low-level knowledge. . . . My belief is that the best
preparation you have is high quality instruction.”
Differences in their districts’ accumulation and allocation of capital, pro-
fessional cultures, responses to state policies, and standardized test perfor-
mance resulted in different socialization experiences for Liz and Sam. Liz
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Achinstein et al.
taught in a district with lower capital, which had important consequences. It
limited opportunities for professional development and contributed, along
with the “underperformance” of many schools, to the district’s vulnerability
to state instructional and accountability policies, resulting in the district’s
adoption of a scripted reading program. All of these factors shaped a profes-
sional culture in which Liz learned that being a teacher meant developing her
delivery of scripted lessons. In contrast, Sam worked in a district with higher
levels of capital that enabled it to provide extensive professional development
and establish its own literacy program. These conditions and the relatively
strong performance of its schools, as reflected by their API scores, enabled
the district to resist the adoption of a state-sanctioned reading program. Thus,
the district’s professional culture reinforced Sam’s identity as a teacher who
creatively draws on an expanding instructional repertoire to respond to stu-
dents’ needs. These comparisons reveal that state policies can influence dis-
tricts in ways that ultimately affect the socialization of new teachers.
The State Policy Environment

In the past 5 years, California has increased and tightened its accountabil-
ity and instructional policies. These policies were intended to improve edu-
cational equity by establishing standards, by administering a standardized
testing program, providing incentives to adopt instructional programs that
improve achievement, identifying underperforming schools, supporting
school improvement efforts, and sanctioning schools that fail to meet stan-
dards. However, because these measures place greater pressure on under-
performing schools, which typically serve high percentages of students from
low-income and minority backgrounds, they may have produced an un-
intended consequence: the creation of a class of schools and districts with
pedagogical approaches emphasizing routines and direct instruction that
affect the socialization of new teachers, contributing to the formation of two
teacher tracks.
In 1999, California adopted the Public Schools Accountability Act (PSAA,
SB1X), which established a statewide assessment and accountability system.
That system annually ranks schools on the API, which is tied largely to scores
on the state-adopted standardized achievement test, and specifies sanctions
for schools that chronically “underperform.” The state also enacted the Imme-
diate Intervention/Underperforming Schools Program (II/USP), which provides
grants supporting underperforming schools’ efforts to assess their conditions
and develop improvement plans. Data clearly demonstrate that the state’s
accountability system bears most heavily on districts serving high proportions
of students from low-income and minority backgrounds. According to the
Technical Design Group of the Advisory Committee for the California Public
Schools Accountability Act of 1999 (2002, p. 5), schools’ APIs are negatively
correlated with three demographic characteristics of their students: (a) per-
centage of students who are Latino (−.803), (b) percentage of students who
584
Table 7
Districts Statewide: Literacy Program Adoptions
According to Percentages of Minority Students
and Students Receiving Free/Reduced Price Lunches
0%–25% 26%–50% 51%–75% 76%–100%

minority minority minority minority
Houghton Mifflin 30.2 28.1 17.8 23.9

Open Court 21.6 12.7 28.4 37.3
0%–25% 26%–50% 51%–75% 76%–100%

free meal free meal free meal free meal
Houghton Mifflin 19.4 33.3 29.7 17.6

Open Court 17.9 25.5 35.8 20.8
Note. Values are percentages. Data exclude Los Angeles Unified School District.
receive free or reduced-price lunches (−.887), and (c) percentage of English-

language learners (−.754) (n = 4,057). Alternatively, schools’ API scores are
positively correlated with percentage of White students (.748). Following
closely on the heels of PSAA and II/USP, in 2001 federal lawmakers adopted
the No Child Left Behind Act, which requires that states implement account-
ability systems to ensure that schools demonstrate adequate yearly progress
(AYP) and that all students are proficient in math and English by 2014.
Schools that fail to reach AYP goals for a specified number of successive
years face sanctions, including possible restructuring and state takeover.
Beginning in the late 1990s, California adopted educational policies that
define content standards, align curricula with standards, and regulate text-
book adoption. The effects of these measures differed across districts and
schools depending on their student populations. Schools serving higher per-
centages of students from low-income and minority backgrounds tend to
adopt more prescriptive programs that emphasize direct instruction. In 1997,
the state adopted English-language arts content standards, and in 1998 it
adopted the reading/language arts framework (California Department of Edu-
cation, 1999). In 2002, the state further defined literacy instruction by adopt-
ing only two literacy programs for elementary schools—Open Court and
Houghton Mifflin—and offered financial incentives for their local adoption.
These selections were based on criteria, including standards-driven criteria,
with embedded assessments, instructional planning, and support (California
Department of Education, 2002). All respondents involved in this study,
including those who used Open Court, characterized that program as “more
scripted,” routinized, and rooted in phonics-based learning and direct instruc-
tion than the Houghton Mifflin program.
Our analysis of data from the California Department of Education and
textbook publishers revealed that, across the state, districts with higher per-
585
Table 8
Los Angeles Unified School District: Percentage of Schools
Adopting Open Court According to Demographic Characteristics
0%– 26%– 51%– 76%–

25% 50% 75% 100%
free 0%–25% free 26%–50% free 51%–75% free 76%–100%
meal minority meal minority meal minority meal minority
% Open
Court
adoption
schools 20.6 5.9 8.8 14.7 17.6 14.7 52.9 64.7
Note. Data were derived from a random sample (n = 34).
centages of students from low-income and minority backgrounds were

more likely to adopt Open Court. Nearly two thirds (66%) of the districts
that adopted Open Court served mostly minority students (51%–100%), as
compared with 42% of districts that adopted Houghton Mifflin (see Table
7, top). In addition, almost 57% of districts that adopted Open Court
served mostly low-income students (51%–100% free-lunch students), as
opposed to 47% of districts that adopted Houghton Mifflin (see Table 7,
bottom).2
This pattern was even more pronounced in the Los Angeles Unified
School District, where each school adopted a reading program. Examining
the adoptions of a random sample (n = 34) of elementary schools, we found
that 79% of the schools adopting Open Court serve a majority of minority
students and that 71% serve a majority of students receiving free lunches (see
Table 8).
Accountability and instructional policies focus on districts and schools
that are deemed “low performing.” In California, the site of our study, such
pressures fall disproportionately on high-poverty and minority districts. These
districts also tend to lack capital, which makes them more vulnerable to
instructional policies promoting directive, routinized approaches to instruc-
tion that promise to enhance test scores. State pressures may also create a cli-
mate of teacher learning in these settings characterized by control-oriented
stances. We found that California districts and schools with higher percent-
ages of minority students and students receiving free lunches tended to adopt
the most scripted state-sanctioned literacy program. The economic and racial
distribution of state instructional policy implementation reinforced the likeli-
hood that districts such as Liz’s, as opposed to Sam’s, would adopt the most
prescriptive programs for both teachers and students. Thus, the state policy
environment reveals another level of interaction with district and teacher
backgrounds reinforcing the differences between Liz and Sam.
586
Discussion
The significance of the present study does not reside in its finding that teach-
ers’ personal and professional backgrounds, local contexts, and state policy
environments shape the induction of new teachers, because this simply repli-
cates the results of previous research on teacher socialization. Rather, its sig-
nificance lies in revealing a broader and more troubling pattern: Current
conditions in these three domains that affect teacher socialization may be inter-
acting to form a system that results in the unintended creation of two teacher
tracks that reproduce inequities contributing to the well-documented achieve-
ment gap along lines of race and social class. In this section, we draw on
themes from previous research on educational tracking to frame our descrip-
tion and discussion of this possible system of teacher tracking.
Educational Tracking
Considerable research has documented the existence of educational track-
ing and its deleterious effects on the academic performance of students from
poor and minority backgrounds (Anyon, 1994; Oakes, 1985; Page, 1987, 1991;
Talbert & Ennis, 1990). This body of work has focused on student tracking and,
more recently, teacher tracking within schools but not on the system of teacher
tracking that we posit in this article. However, by identifying conditions that
indicate the presence and outcomes of tracking, previous research has pro-
vided rough benchmarks for determining whether the process and results of
teacher socialization described here form a type of tracking system. We rec-
ognize that the bulk of the research on student and teacher tracking has been
conducted in secondary schools, while our study focused on elementary
schools. Although this raises the question of the direct applicability of some of
the previous tracking research, we found the themes to be instructive.
Research on student tracking highlights two important themes: (a) a
strong relationship among tracking and class and race and (b) clear differ-
ences in learning opportunities, curricula, and pedagogy across tracks. Rist
(1970) found that a kindergarten teacher divided students into reading
groups along class lines and that these divisions persisted through the 3 years
he observed the students. Spring (1989) characterized schooling as “the sort-
ing machine,” in that tracking selects and trains students for different areas
of the labor market. Indeed, poor and minority students are disproportion-
ately assigned to lower academic tracks (Haberman, 1991; Oakes, 1985).
Research also demonstrates that tracking limits learning opportunities for
students assigned to low-level academic tracks (Anyon, 1994). Students in low
and high tracks are held to different expectations, are exposed to different
curriculum content, and receive different types of instruction. Those in lower
tracks experience a “pedagogy of poverty” (Haberman, 1991) that emphasizes
low-status knowledge, basic skills, behavior management, routines, and drill-
like tasks (Gamoran, 1986; Haberman, 1991; Oakes, 1985; Page, 1987, 1991).
Higher tracks emphasize high-status knowledge, critical thinking, problem
solving, and creativity (Gamoran, 1986; Oakes, 1985).
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Achinstein et al.
Although research on teacher tracking is relatively sparse and defines
tracking as assignment of teachers to low- or high-track classes within a
school, it projects themes similar to those in the literature on student track-
ing: relationships among tracking and race, gender, and status; differences in
resources, learning opportunities, and control between tracks; and different
outcomes across tracks. Teachers in lower tracks are viewed as being of lower
status than their colleagues in higher tracks. Finley’s (1984) case study of a high
school English department indicated that low-track teachers believe that
administrators and colleagues hold them in lower esteem and that teachers
generally prefer the higher tracks because they are associated with higher sta-
tus students and knowledge. Talbert and Ennis’s (1990) analysis of High School
and Beyond, a longitudinal data set drawn from a representative national sam-
ple, revealed that low-track students are taught largely by teachers assigned
only to low-track classes, revealing that teachers are tracked. In addition, they
found that tracking is more prevalent in schools with higher proportions of
minority and female teachers, suggesting a relationship among gender, race,
and teacher tracking.
Research has also documented a relationship between the tracks to which
teachers are assigned and their access to resources and control over instruc-
tion. Talbert and Ennis (1990) found that teachers of low-track courses had
less access to organizational resources for professional growth than their
higher track counterparts. Finley’s (1984) study showed that low-track teach-
ers, in part as a result of their lack of status, were less likely than their high-
track colleagues to take advantage of professional development opportunities.
Talbert and Ennis (1990) also found that high-track teachers reported higher
levels of instructional control.
Finally, research suggests that tracking affects teachers’ work outcomes.
Finley (1984) noted that teachers’ sense of competence suffers with repeated
exposure to low-track classes. Talbert and Ennis (1990) similarly reported that
low-track teachers perceive a lower sense of efficacy than their high-track col-
leagues, in part owing to their limited access to resources for professional
growth and their relative lack of instructional control.
Research on educational tracking converges on a few important themes
that reveal that tracking works to the disadvantage of students and teachers
assigned to lower tracks. First, tracking is tied to social status, and distinctions
are drawn according to class, race, and perhaps, in the case of teachers, gen-
der. Second, low and high tracks differ in terms of organizational input, includ-
ing opportunities to learn, curricula, pedagogy, resources, and teacher control.
Finally, low and high tracks differ in regard to outcomes for both students and
teachers: Low-track students are confined to low-status knowledge and basic
skills, while their teachers sense a lack of competence and efficacy.
Conclusion: Tracing a System of Teacher Tracking

Through New Teacher Socialization
The findings of this study, together with the literature on educational tracking,
suggest that state educational policies, local district and school conditions, and
588
Teacher Tracking
teachers’ personal and professional backgrounds may combine to form a sys-
tem of teacher tracking. To explore this possibility, we summarize our find-
ings in light of themes drawn from previous research on educational tracking.
Reversing the sequence in which we reported our findings, we begin with the
state policy environment and move through the local context to the teachers.
State Policies
State educational policies frame the socialization of new teachers, especially
when these policies prescribe instructional practices and assess outcomes. Cal-
ifornia, like many states, enacts educational policies that meet both conditions,
particularly in the area of literacy. First, it adopted frameworks and two ele-
mentary reading programs, of which Open Court is the more prescriptive. Sec-
ond, its accountability legislation created a system that annually ranks schools
largely on the basis of scores on the state-adopted standardized achievement
test and specifies sanctions for schools that chronically “underperform.”
California’s instructional and accountability policies bear two marks of
educational tracking. First, by focusing on “low-performing” schools, these
policies provide a frame for educational issues, including teacher socializa-
tion, that emphasize distinctions related to class and race, the reason being
that “low-performing” schools in California serve higher proportions of stu-
dents from low-income and minority backgrounds (Technical Design Group,
2002). This is ironic, because these policies clearly seek to close the achieve-
ment gap between low-income and more affluent students and between
minority and White students. Second, the state’s adoption of a highly pre-
scriptive reading program provides an educational input for local schools
and districts that, as we discuss subsequently, distinguishes low and high
teacher tracks. We found that high poverty and minority districts in Califor-
nia tended to adopt the most prescriptive reading program.
Local Context
Local school and district contexts exert a profound influence on teacher social-
ization both directly and by mediating the impact of state instructional and
accountability policies. We identified four interrelated factors that directly influ-
enced teacher socialization and, thus, the formation of two teacher tracks. First,
District A possessed lower amounts of physical, human, social, and cultural
capital than District B. This had several consequences. District A spent 20%
less per student than District B and provided fewer professional development
opportunities. In addition, District A emphasized internal collaboration within
and across schools, while District B employed its external, professional net-
works. District A also reflected a higher poverty, minority, and immigrant com-
munity with lower status than District B.
Second, district capital affected the districts’ teacher-hiring practices.
Whereas District A worked to “grow its own” teachers by recruiting individ-
uals from the local community, and hired a higher proportion of minority can-
didates, District B employed its social capital to recruit new teachers, from
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Achinstein et al.
leading universities in the region, with a higher proportion of full credentials
and graduate degrees. Third, the districts’ professional cultures promoted dif-
ferent conceptions of learning and teaching, one emphasizing the use of
structured instructional programs to attain state-mandated standards for aca-
demic performance and the other promoting the creativity and autonomy of
its teachers. These philosophical differences were reflected in the districts’
views of new teachers, professional development, and teacher collaboration.
In District A, new teachers were expected to “learn and follow the procedures
of the school,” the limited professional development activities focused on
implementation of the district’s reading program, and when teachers met, they
coordinated instructional schedules. In District B, by contrast, new teachers
were expected to be creative, the extensive array of professional develop-
ment opportunities emphasized inquiry and co-construction of knowledge,
and teachers collaborated in a variety of configurations to share and challenge
instructional ideas. Fourth, schools in District A were outperformed by their
counterparts in District B on the state-adopted, standardized test.
These differences in district wealth, hiring practices, professional cultures,
and school performance combined to influence the districts’ vulnerability
to and thus compliance with state policies. District A was more vulnerable to
state accountability measures because its schools performed less well on the
state standardized test. In addition, it lacked the physical and human capital
that District B invested in creating its own literacy program, making District A
more willing to adopt a program promoted and paid for by the state and other
key stakeholders as a means to improve students’ academic performance, a
choice reinforced by District A’s instructional culture. Finally, the scripted read-
ing program served the needs of the relatively high proportion of teachers in
District A who lacked preprofessional preparation and credentials.
The impact that these differences in local context had on the socialization
of new teachers reflects several marks of educational tracking. For example,
the levels of several educational inputs differed across the two districts. Most
obviously, District A lacked the capital commanded by District B, which
resulted in District A hiring less qualified teachers, spending less per pupil, and
offering fewer professional development opportunities. Resulting in part from
different levels of capital, the districts employed literacy programs that differed
in the status associated with their content and pedagogy. District A adopted
the scripted program that was promoted by the state and touted as a promis-
ing approach to improving test scores. This program and its enactment (as
reflected in classroom observations and scores) arguably reflect the basic skills,
routines, and drill-like tasks associated with lower academic tracks (Haberman,
1991; Oakes, 1985). District B used its capital to develop a literacy approach
and practices reflecting the high-status knowledge, critical thinking, problem
solving, and creativity associated with higher academic tracks (Gamoran, 1986;
Oakes, 1985). Similarly, the opportunities for teacher learning available to Liz
and Sam were distinguished by the status of knowledge promoted: learning
to implement a program versus critically thinking and reflecting on theories
and a repertoire of teaching practices.
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Teacher Tracking
Assessing the efficacy and appropriateness of these different approaches
to literacy instruction for different student populations was beyond the pur-
pose of this study. Some research suggests that high-status instructional
approaches that highlight student-centered, active learning may not necessar-
ily improve the education of underserved populations (Rubin, 2003) because
they privilege the cultural capital of students from more affluent backgrounds
(Bernstein, 1990; Delpit, 1995). Other research highlights how more prescribed
skills-based programs result in achievement for underrepresented students
(Slavin, 2002). Our point is as follows: Regardless of the relative effectiveness
of the approaches to literacy instruction employed by Districts A and B, they
reflect curriculum and pedagogy that, according to a substantial body of
research, distinguish low academic tracks from high tracks.
Furthermore, the level of teacher control over instruction differed be-
tween the two districts. In District A, teachers, including novices, were expected
to employ the instructional procedures and adhere to the instructional sched-
ule dictated by the adopted literacy program. In District B, teachers were
expected to be creative in employing a variety of instructional strategies to
meet the needs of students. Finally, social status and race were reflected in the
districts’ teacher-hiring strategies. District A recruited teachers from the local
area, while District B recruited teachers from teacher education programs at
respected universities in the region. This resulted in the districts hiring teach-
ers who differed in their personal and professional backgrounds: District A
hired higher proportions of teachers who were from minority backgrounds
and lacked credentials, while District B hired higher proportions of teachers
with full credentials and graduate degrees.
Teacher Background
Teachers’ personal backgrounds shape their worldviews, which in turn color
their early socialization by affecting their “apprenticeships of observation” and
influence their selection of where and how to pursue preprofessional prepa-
ration, as well as where to work. This contrasts with student tracking, because
students often have little say in their placement. However, as we have noted,
teachers self-select the districts in which they seek employment. We have
explained how Liz and Sam, the new teachers on which this study focused,
have different personal backgrounds, which influenced their “apprenticeships
of observation.” Their personal backgrounds also affected their choices of
teacher preparation programs and places of employment, both of which
shaped their professional socialization.
The impact of teachers’ personal and professional backgrounds on their
socialization bears three related marks of educational tracking. First, Liz and
Sam embody distinctions along lines of status, class, and gender. Liz attended
schools in a working-class community, while Sam was educated in an upper-
middle-class suburb. Liz attended a lower status university, whereas Sam
attended a research university. In terms of gender, the findings of this study
are merely suggestive. Liz, a woman, is being socialized in the lower teacher
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Achinstein et al.
track; Sam, a man, is being socialized in the higher track. This seems con-
gruent with Talbert and Ennis’s (1990) finding that academic tracking is more
prevalent in schools with higher proportions of female teachers. Second, the
two teachers employ approaches to literacy instruction that reflect lower and
higher status curricula and pedagogy. Liz, who began her career without a
teaching credential, finds comfort in her district’s prescriptive reading pro-
gram, which, as noted, reflects low-status content and pedagogy. Sam, who
began his career with a master’s degree and full certification, is satisfied to
work in a district whose literacy program reflects high-status content and ped-
agogy. Third, Liz and Sam have different conceptions of what it means to be
professional that reflect higher and lower status. Liz sees herself as account-
able for implementing an externally designed program to raise achievement
and as someone who coordinates schedules with colleagues. Sam sees him-
self as a creative, autonomous thinker who challenges and is challenged by
colleagues. Again, assessing the efficacy and appropriateness of these two
teachers’ approaches to literacy instruction for their students or conceptions
of professionalism is beyond the scope of this study. The salient point is that
Liz and Sam embody low and separate (low and high) teacher tracks.
Thus, we arrive at a working definition of teacher tracking as an inter-
action among teacher background, local context, and state policy whereby
teachers are socialized into two distinct paths associated with social differ-
ences among both students and teachers. The tracks are distinguished by the
nature of inputs, with teachers experiencing different levels of resources,
learning opportunities, instructional control, and expectations that result in
their beliefs and practices being aligned with lower or higher status.
Implications
Because this study was based principally on intensive case studies of two
teachers, its findings are more suggestive than conclusive. However, what
these findings suggest is deeply troubling and thus warrants the attention of
researchers, practitioners, policymakers, and theorists.
Research
The advantage of a comparison of two intensive case studies is that it enabled
us to deeply explore the experiences of new teachers and their work settings.
The disadvantage is that we cannot be sure our findings are applicable to
other settings, although we did find comparable patterns in the experiences
of the two teachers with those of other new teachers in the same districts and
examined statewide data to determine whether districts serving higher pro-
portions of students from low-income and minority backgrounds were more
likely to adopt a scripted reading program. Yet, we recognize the need for
more research to verify these patterns and improve our understanding of con-
ditions that deepen or reduce teacher tracks. For example, it would be use-
ful to develop case studies in settings that reflect combinations of instructional
approaches and capital that differ from those in the two districts in our study.
592
Teacher Tracking
Instances of teacher, school, and district resistance to the patterns suggested
in this study also warrant future investigation. In addition, a longitudinal study
could assess longer term socialization effects of tracking.
Policy
This study revealed how accountability and standards-based instructional poli-
cies intended to foster equity inadvertently constrained the socialization
experiences of new teachers working in a school district that serves a high
proportion of students from low-income and culturally/linguistically diverse
backgrounds. Our findings extend what McNeil (2000) argued is a contradic-
tion in accountability-based policy reform. She found that accountability-based
control systems exacerbated the very problems the reform was intended to
correct, reducing the quality of education for those who scored lowest on stan-
dardized assessments. She also found that, in the name of equity, teaching
shifted from intellectual activity to test preparation, students no longer con-
tributed to classroom discourse, and deskilled teachers were limited to scripted
lessons.
Moreover, the tracking of teachers, set against a backdrop of account-
ability, may legitimate educational inequities by diminishing overt expression
of control (McNeil, 2000). We found that underqualified new teachers were
encouraged to rely on scripted programs to instruct underperforming stu-
dents, ostensibly “leveling the playing field” and increasing accountability.
Conversely, in the more affluent and better performing setting, more quali-
fied new teachers were encouraged to apply professional discretion to foster
students’ independence and creativity. In the name of greater equality, such
policies may serve to reproduce the social divide through differential teacher
socialization. Our study also highlights how conceptions of minority students
as “other people’s children” (Delpit, 1995) who have different needs and expec-
tations may produce different conditions and expectations for “other people’s
teachers.” Thus, some teachers receive scripted, basics-focused teacher train-
ing, while others experience creative, co-constructed teacher education.
Practice
New teacher tracking is a critical issue for practice because, in the first 10 years
of the 21st century, more than 2 million new teachers will be needed in the
United States. Moreover, the first few years of teaching are an influential
“imprinting” period of induction, socializing teachers into a possible 40-year
career. While research on teacher induction has documented the efficacy of
programs that provide support to novices (Feiman-Nemser, 2001; Odell & Hul-
ing, 2000), it has not examined how local contexts shape the content or con-
ceptions of teacher and student learning embedded in teacher induction
programs. Our study raises concerns about induction’s role in reproducing
inequities across districts. Educators who work with new teachers may see
their role as “local guides,” enculturating novices by explaining local policies
and practices (Feiman-Nemser & Parker, 1993). If they contribute to the “track-
593
Achinstein et al.
ing” of teachers, however, local school and district contexts make induction a
problematic activity.
Our findings add to a growing body of evidence that district contexts
deeply affect teacher learning (Grossman et al., 2002; Spillane & Thompson,
1997). Specifically, we found that districts’ professional culture and capital can
influence the education of novice teachers and thus affect teacher quality. Dis-
trict leaders might ask themselves several questions: What conceptions of pro-
fessionalism are embedded in the district’s teacher induction, professional
development, and curriculum reform? What kinds of capital does the district
possess, and how is it used for developing new teachers? How do the dis-
trict’s responses to accountability pressures shape learning opportunities for
new teachers and students? In what ways do these conceptions and responses
reproduce or challenge inequities among new teachers and their students?
Theory
This study also raises issues that extend social reproduction theory to the
socialization and tracking of teachers. Bowles and Gintis (1976) developed a
correspondence theory linking the socialization of students to preserving soci-
ety’s economic, social, and political inequalities. Socialization includes the
types of knowledge and access to learning available to students, how they feel
about themselves and school, and what they expect in their future. Teacher
tracking performs much of the same sorting function as student tracking in
terms of reproducing inequalities in society. We appreciate that such a corre-
spondence theory may be viewed as overly deterministic. Giroux (1983)
reminded us about the roles of power, resistance, and human agency in chal-
lenging such reproduction theories. Liz and Sam’s cases should thus be viewed
with an understanding of individuals’ agency within organizational contexts.
Yet, we found similar patterns of “correspondence” in our analysis of
teachers’ knowledge, access to learning, and conceptions of themselves as
professionals. Thus, socialization of novices may produce high and low tracks
of teachers whose instructional beliefs and practices enact inequities in the
socialization of high- and low-track students. These tracks correspond with
the capital of the district, thus ensuring that the “rich” (high capital) get richer
and the “poor” (low capital) get poorer. This method of reproducing inequal-
ity is less obvious than student tracking but all the more troubling. The rea-
son is that teachers, the trusted purveyors of education, embody and enact
curricular and pedagogical inequities. New teachers, under current socializ-
ing forces, can become agents in the reproduction of social inequality. Thus,
two classes of teachers for two classes of students and communities emerge.
Notes
We wish to express our gratitude to the participating educators in this study, partic-
ularly the new teachers who shared so generously. We wish to acknowledge the support
for this research provided by the New Teacher Center at the University of California, Santa
Cruz; Ellen Moir, its executive director; and the entire staff at the center. We particularly
thank Michael Strong for his guidance, support, and continuous feedback on numerous
drafts. Special thanks go to Stephen Fletcher for his technical support and feedback
594
Teacher Tracking
throughout the study. We thank Adele Barrett and Anthony Villar for their roles in data
collection and ongoing feedback. We acknowledge Gary Bloom and Kitty Dixon for their
ideas. We appreciate Joan Talbert’s thoughtful commentary. Thanks to Larry Cuban and
Judith Warren Little for their feedback. Finally, we thank Scott Thomas, the guest editor,
and the anonymous reviewers for their extensive comments that shaped this work.
1
All individual and school names are pseudonyms to protect confidentiality.
2
The Los Angeles Unified School District was excluded from Table 7 because text-
book adoptions were reported by individual schools rather than for the entire district.
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599
Appendix A
Data Collection by System Level
Level Interviews Observations Documents
State Superintendent Policy documents &

level Assistant superintendents/ reports
directors of curriculum State legislation
& instruction Demographics
Resource specialists Literacy adoption
Literacy specialists:
1 or 2 60–90-minute semi-
structured interviews
each
District Mentors of 2 focal new Policy documents
level teachers: 8 40–90-minute Professional develop-
interviews each ment materials
Mentors of 4 participat- Induction survey
ing new teachers: Demographics
2 40-minute interviews Textbooks
each Mentoring confer-
ence transcripts
Accountability/
testing documents
School Site administrators: Professional develop-
level 60–90-minute ment materials
interviews School report card
Colleagues: Demographics
45-minute interviews Mission statement
2 focal new teachers: Accountability/
8 45–90-minute testing documents
interviews each
New 4 participating new Focal new teachers: Student work
teachers teachers: 2–4 45-minute 11 observations samples
interviews each in 2 years, Collaborative logs
60–120 minutes with mentors
each
Participating new
teachers: 2 obser-
vations, 60–120
minutes each
600
Appendix B
Participants and Numbers of Interviews (Total: 66)
Participant Site A Site B
District
Superintendent 1
Assistant superintendent/director of
curriculum & instruction 1 2
Resource specialist 2
Literacy coach 1 1
District-wide mentor 1
Focal school
Site administrator 1 1
Focal new teacher 8 8
Mentor 1 4 4
Mentor 2 4 4
Veteran colleague 1 1
Novice colleague 1 1
Other 1
Nonfocal new teacher 2 2
Mentor 1 2 2
Mentor 2 2
Other school
Nonfocal new teacher 2 2
Mentor 2 2
Total 32 34
Appendix C
Sample Interview Protocols
New Teacher Initial Interview

1. How did you come to choose a career in education?
• Please describe your own background in education.
• Why did you want to become a teacher?
• Can you tell me about your district and school’s hiring process? Why
did you choose this school?
2. How have things gone so far at your school?
• What is it like to work at this school?
• What is it like to be a new teacher at this school?
• Describe your relationships with your administrator, colleagues, parents,
and students.
• Describe your students (demographics of your classroom).
3. What kind of preparation/professional development have you received in
literacy?
• Please describe any preservice preparation in literacy (describe
approaches).
601
Achinstein et al.
• What kind of professional development in literacy have you received
this year?
• Who/what at the school do you talk to/learn from about literacy?
• What kind of professional development and support is best for you?
4. What do you think are the best ways to teach literacy in your grade?
• How do you teach literacy? Describe a current unit and lesson.
• How do kids best learn literacy?
• Where did you develop these beliefs/approaches?
5. Please describe the approaches to literacy (and programs/curriculum) pro-
moted by your school and/or district.
• To what degree do your own beliefs about teaching literacy correspond
with your school’s literacy program/approach?
• To what degree do you follow closely the methods of your school lit-
eracy program/approaches?
• To what degree do your colleagues follow the methods of your school’s
literacy approach?
• We are interested in hearing about all the different influences on liter-
acy instruction and teacher professional development about literacy.
Can you describe these influences in your present situation?
• Are you aware of any instances where teachers disagree with the prin-
cipal or district? If so, how does the teacher deal with it?
6. What challenges do you face in learning to teach literacy? What supports do
you get or lack?
7. Who else should we interview in this school about literacy instruction, new
teacher learning, and organizational contexts? What is your relationship to
this person?
8. Anything else you would like to add?
District-Level Literacy Coach Interview

1. Please describe your own background in education.
• Please describe your experience in teaching and coaching.
• Please describe your current role in relation to the school, literacy
program, and the new teacher.
2. Please describe what it is like to work in your district and school.
• Please describe the students, parents, administrator, colleagues, and
district.
• What is it like for new teachers at your district and school?
• Please describe the district culture, including its professional develop-
ment opportunities.
3. What do you think are the best ways to teach literacy (reading and writing)?
4. How would you describe your district/the school’s approach to literacy and
professional development about learning to teach literacy?
5a. How has the district responded to recent state policies about literacy?
5b. We are interested in knowing how different stakeholders are responding to
this literacy approach. Can you tell me about the district, principal, teachers,
and your own responses?
5c. Do you feel there are consistent or conflicting messages about literacy
instruction and professional development that new teachers receive (from
school, district, state)? If so, how do they differ?
602
Teacher Tracking
6. What kinds of challenges or supports do new teachers experience in learn-
ing to teach literacy in this context (of literacy program, with colleagues, the
school, the district)?
7. Please describe your role and relationship with the beginning teacher in this
study. How do you support him/her? How has this relationship changed
over time? How have you supported his/her literacy instruction?
8. Who else should we interview in this school about literacy instruction, new
teacher learning, and organizational contexts?
9. Anything else you would like to add?
603

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American Educational Research Journal

Fall 2004, Vol. 41, No. 3, pp. 557–603

Are We Creating Separate and Unequal

KEYWORDS: accountability, instructional policy, teacher socialization, tracking

I n this article, we explore the possibility that state educational policies,

In my district . . . we have more freedom to find out where the kids

BETTY ACHINSTEIN is a Researcher at the New Teacher Center, University of Cali-

State Policy Environment

The Present Study

Two Teachers’ Beliefs

I don’t think I’d be in the profession if [I had to do a scripted pro-

In contrast, Sam employed “writer’s workshop” to situate students as

Liz and Sam also differed in their approaches to reading instruction. In

Liz 1.1* 0* 1.3 1.2* 0.1* 3.6*

Note. 0 = no evidence, 1 = emerging, 2 = developing, 3 = enacting. “Total” represents sum of

Note. 0 = no evidence, 1 = emerging, 2 = developing, 3 = enacting. “Total” represents sum of

Individual Influences: New Teacher Backgrounds

Other New Teachers

Note. 0 = no evidence, 1 = emerging, 2 = developing, 3 = enacting. “Total” represents sum of

District and School Contexts

Background District A (n = 10) District B (n = 9)

Ethnicity 5 Latino, 2 White, 2 Asian, 7 White, 2 no response

Basically we have very close connections to the universities, espe-

District B employed this strategy to recruit teachers whose philosophy was

Level Site A Site B

School 80.6 96.3

Note. Data include all teachers (i.e., new and experienced).

Cross-district comparisons revealed that differences in hiring practices led

A district literacy coach agreed: “Teachers are insulted by scripted programs.”

Performance on State Testing and Accountability Measures

The State Policy Environment

0%–25% 26%–50% 51%–75% 76%–100%

Houghton Mifflin 30.2 28.1 17.8 23.9

0%–25% 26%–50% 51%–75% 76%–100%

Houghton Mifflin 19.4 33.3 29.7 17.6

receive free or reduced-price lunches (−.887), and (c) percentage of English-

0%– 26%– 51%– 76%–

Note. Data were derived from a random sample (n = 34).

centages of students from low-income and minority backgrounds were

Conclusion: Tracing a System of Teacher Tracking

Level Interviews Observations Documents

State Superintendent Policy documents &

Participant Site A Site B

New Teacher Initial Interview

District-Level Literacy Coach Interview

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