Bad Metaphors: Achievement Gaps
The achievement gap persists as one of the most entrenched—and problematic—metaphors in education. It has been around for so long that it now functions as a naturalized way of thinking. It’s an assumed truth. But naturalized constructs and assumed truths should make us both wary and curious. What are the consequences of this particular assumption? What ways of seeing and teaching do we abandon as a result?
Building on the (now widely disputed) findings of the landmark 1983 report A Nation at Risk, policymakers and education researchers engaged in a flurry of comparative studies. These studies revealed gap after gap, magnifying public alarm at the suddenly obvious underachievement of American students. SAT scores were on the decline. U.S. performance in math and literacy lagged behind other developed nations. Stark disparities between low-income students (typically students of color) and high-income students (typically white) drew attention and concern. These anxiety-inducing trends were measured, of course, via standardized tests—and for decades, the language of achievement gaps and leaving children behind dominated public discourse. Educators, policymakers, and families began to see and speak of “gaps” everywhere.
To be fair, the metaphor did some good. Schools with low graduation rates (pejoratively but appropriately labeled “dropout factories”) were targeted for reform. Teach For America and other alternative teacher preparation programs were launched. The charter movement arose to support innovation within public education. Universities and nonprofit organizations renewed their focus on the craft of teaching and on improved assessment practices. These developments deserve recognition.
However, the language of achievement gaps has also caused significant harm. Here’s how:
Deficit thinking. Framing educational outcomes in terms of “gaps” promotes deficit-based mindsets. In this narrative, white students’ outcomes become the standard to which students of color are expected to aspire.
Testing overdose. In efforts to close measurable gaps, educators and policymakers have often adopted strategies of frequent interim testing. This overemphasis on testing has crowded out practices that cultivate creativity, critical thinking, and inner nourishment.
Oversimplification. A singular focus on the “achievement gap” ignores the broader structural variables that produce educational disparities. Schooling is just one variable in a tangled, dynamic ecosystem.
In recent years, some have shifted toward reframing the issue as one of opportunity gaps. Scholars such as Gloria Ladson-Billings have gone further, offering the metaphor of education debt to describe the long history of systemic disadvantage faced by students of color in this country. I applaud these shifts.
From a Zen perspective, metaphors that hinge on lack, comparison, or deficiency subtly reinforce dualistic thinking—the very illusion that Zen practice invites us to see through. When we frame students as "behind" or "in debt," we risk missing their wholeness in the present moment. Zen teaches us to meet what is, as it is—not as a measure against some imagined ideal. In that light, our work as educators becomes less about fixing students and more about awakening to their inherent potential, already present and unfolding.
This shift in view—from lack to presence, from comparison to encounter—is no small thing. In Zen, we train ourselves to see without overlaying judgment, to experience directly rather than through the filters of expectation or hierarchy. Similarly, in education, when we drop the lens of deficiency, we become more attuned to the specific conditions, capacities, and aspirations alive in each student. This doesn’t mean abandoning rigor or responsibility; it means rooting our teaching in relationship and responsiveness rather than in control and correction. When we meet students not as problems to be solved but as beings to be witnessed, the classroom becomes a site of mutual practice—one where both teacher and student are shaped by the encounter.
And still, I believe we might be best served by moving beyond all comparative metaphors—whether of gaps or debts. When we compare, we risk losing sight of our aspirations.
REFLECTION:
Where do you encounter ‘gaps’ in your current teaching discourse?
