When Schools Need 'Balanced Literacy Rehab'

Even with new curricula and good intentions, old teaching habits die hard. A veteran literacy coach describes how schools can break the cycle and improve reading outcomes.

One of the animating goals of The Next 30 Years is to introduce readers—whether policymakers, practitioners, or anyone else concerned with improving student outcomes—to voices they may not yet know, but should. These are the people doing the hard, often invisible work of advancing the cause of better instruction, smarter curricula, and stronger student learning. Today’s contributor, Kristen McQuillan, is a perfect example.

Kristen is the Chief Program Officer at StandardsWork, the nonprofit sponsor of the Knowledge Matters Campaign. She brings an extraordinary range of experience to the work of improving literacy—from classroom teaching and district leadership in Baltimore, to supporting large-scale system change as a Partner at TNTP (formerly The New Teacher Project), to her current national role advising schools and districts across more than twenty states. She is a nationally recognized expert on literacy improvement, evidence-based practice, and professional development—and someone whose advice is grounded in what it actually takes to change classroom practice.

This essay underscores a point that cannot be overstated: it is tempting, especially for those who do not spend their days in schools, to assume that adopting a new curriculum or centering the “science of reading” is enough to change student outcomes. It is not. As Kristen argues here, better materials and instruction don’t gain traction unless schools take the long, hard road of changing what actually happens in classrooms. Critically, the best of intentions can be no match for deeply ingrained habits. —Robert Pondiscio

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I recently visited classrooms with an elementary school principal in a racially diverse school district in Virginia that predominately serves students from economically disadvantaged backgrounds. The school system had recently overhauled its approach to reading instruction to better meet the needs of its students. Like countless school districts nationwide, they had traded in outdated methods for a structured curriculum aligned with the science of reading. The intent is clear and admirable: improve literacy outcomes by rooting instruction in what cognitive science tells us about how children learn to read—and that’s how the district came to invite me in. My small consulting practice focuses on how to improve literacy instruction in exactly this way, at scale.

At first, the visit was heartening. The students were adorable, diligently chaining words and mastering letter sounds. But as we move from classroom to classroom, my smile began to fade. By the end of the walk, I was taking deep breaths. The principal noticed and gave me a look: “What’s wrong?” I prepared to deliver a potentially unwelcome diagnosis:

It’s time to check into Balanced Literacy Rehab.

For more than a decade, I’ve worked with educators across the country to help shift literacy instruction away from “Balanced Literacy,” a widely used but increasingly discredited approach, toward more effective, research-aligned practices grounded in how children actually learn to read.

That transition is harder than it sounds. Even when schools adopt new materials and commit to better methods, outdated instructional habits tend to persist. I specialize in helping schools identify the chronic conditions that sabotage change—and designing the long-term organizational treatment plans needed to support true recovery. This is what that work looks like.

The Promise—and Pitfalls—of Change

Adopting a new curriculum is a promising first step, but it’s only that: a first step. Real change is like training for a marathon. Buying the right gear doesn’t improve your endurance. Success comes from commitment, coaching, time, and diligent, deliberate practice. In literacy instruction, as in running, execution—and stamina—matters far more than appearances.

So how do we know when a school needs “Balanced Literacy Rehab”? In my work, three warning signs tend to recur.

1. Leaders think the new program is being implemented—but they don’t really know.

This is the instructional equivalent of saying, “I think my kid brushed their teeth.” School leaders often assume that new practices are taking hold—but lack the tools to verify what’s actually happening in classrooms.

That’s not because they don’t care. Most principals want to be strong instructional leaders. But the realities of the job—managing bus schedules, cafeteria mishaps, playground disputes—leave little time for poring over curriculum guides. Many school leaders don’t come from early literacy backgrounds. They may have started their careers teaching middle school science or directing the high school band, not decoding phonemes with first graders. Concepts like orthographic mapping or Ehri’s phases of reading may be entirely new to them.

That’s where practical tools make a difference. In my work with districts, we often develop simple one-pagers that outline “what to look for” in, say, a third-grade literacy classroom during the second quarter. Observational tools—often nothing more elaborate than a shared Google Form—can help principals tag lessons as strong, developing, or off-track. It helps to have a literacy coach like me to help in getting these systems up and running—both because it can feel new as an implementation practice, and because those leaders who aren’t as familiar with literacy instruction often need a little time and coaching to build their own literacy chops as they get started. That collaboration and use of the tools result in data that provides visibility into implementation and identifies trends by grade level, school, or district-wide. With that information, instructional leaders can respond nimbly and support teachers effectively.

You can’t manage what you can’t see. If you don’t know whether teachers are using the new curriculum—or how well—they might as well be teaching behind a curtain.

2. Teachers are using the new program…and the old one.

One of the most common issues is instructional clutter. Schools adopt a new curriculum, but teachers cling to favored materials from the old one. It’s like buying new furniture but never clearing out the old couches. The result is confusion—especially for students.

Leveled book bins from a school that has recently shifted away from Lucy Calkins’ methods—a common symptom of “Balanced Literacy Rehab.” Courtesy of the author.

This phenomenon isn’t about laziness or resistance. It’s emotional. For many teachers, guided reading groups, leveled book bins, and strategy anchor charts aren’t just materials—they’re markers of identity and years of effort. Letting them go can feel like a loss. So teachers “bargain”: I’ll do the phonics lesson, but I’m keeping my leveled library. It’s understandable—but also problematic.

Mixed instructional models send mixed messages to students—and often hurts the students who need extra support managing their executive function the most. When students engage in explicit phonics lessons in the morning, only to be told to “guess the word using the picture” in the afternoon, confusion inevitably follows. And for students with learning differences, that inconsistency can be especially damaging. About 1 in 5 students in the United States can be categorized as struggling with dyslexia, a learning disability that makes decoding even more cognitively challenging than for neurotypical children (Shaywitz, 2003). These confusing mixed signals often wreak havoc on their developing brains—and their sense of confidence as young readers.

If we want to see student growth, we need instructional coherence. That means fully embracing new methods—and being willing to let go of the old ones. In my consulting work, we’ve surveyed teachers to ask whose expertise trust the most, and the typical response is “my principal.” That means the person best positioned to lead teachers through the process of rehabilitation is their school leader, and it starts with ensuring that teachers ditch the methods that aren’t serving their students well.

3. Kindergarten through second grade looks new. Third grade and up? Not so much.

The national conversation around reading science has rightly focused on early elementary instruction. Thanks to journalists like Emily Hanford and advocates like Kareem Weaver, more schools now recognize the importance of foundational reading skills: phonemic awareness, phonics, decoding.

But decoding is necessary—not sufficient.

In too many schools, the instructional shift stops at second grade. Older grades continue to rely on outdated comprehension practices focused on “skills and strategies” rather than building the background knowledge that fuels true understanding. I sometimes joke that education has become like a baseball team obsessed with defense—forgetting that you also have to score runs to win.

Collection of “anchor charts,” which often remain in classrooms despite curriculum shifts. Courtesy of the author.

Reading comprehension doesn’t happen in a vacuum. As cognitive scientists have shown, comprehension relies heavily on a student’s background knowledge and associated vocabulary. This becomes increasingly important in upper elementary, where students encounter a surge of challenging vocabulary, including critical words and phrases that are used across subjects, but more often mean different things depending on the contexts.

If we want students to understand complex texts, we must give them access to rich, knowledge-building content—not just lessons on how to “identify the author’s purpose.” That means reading and discussing meaty texts, writing thoughtfully about them, and exploring important ideas central to those texts in depth. It means content, not just comprehension strategies.

A Long-Term Commitment

Changing instruction is hard. It takes time, tools, and support. I’ve seen the frustration of teachers overwhelmed by competing messages, and the exhaustion of principals trying to steer change while managing a hundred other demands. But I’ve also seen what’s possible when we get it right.

When schools move beyond surface-level change—when they truly adopt coherent, evidence-aligned practices—reading instruction becomes not only more effective but more joyful. Students thrive. Teachers regain a sense of purpose. And the work becomes deeply fulfilling.

The path to better reading instruction is real. It just takes a clear diagnosis, a good treatment plan, and the willingness to see it through.