The Next Time You Fire Off Some Tweets…
This past weekend, I was talking to my friend, John, a fellow former teacher, about some of my ideas about parental advocacy and literacy instruction. “How will you do this work,” John asked, “without attacking teachers?”
John asked a really important question. And even though I’ve been thinking about that question a lot, I didn’t have a good answer for him at the time. I still don’t.
And that’s because I think there’s a tension between parental advocacy for a particular instructional practice and respecting teachers. When you get down to it, if parents are advocating for change in schools, they are saying “teachers are wrong to do X. they should do Y instead.” Advocacy is inherently critical, and in this case, it is critical of teachers’ knowledge and practice.
So how do you work with this tension, if you can’t resolve or dissolve it?
First, I encourage parents to extend some empathy and patience to the teachers in their district. It does not feel good to be told “you’re wrong,” no matter how gracefully that message is delivered. It’s understandable, expected even that teachers become defensive when challenged. Wouldn’t you be skpetical and incredulous if someone told you that you were approaching your life’s work the wrong way? I definitely would. So..the next time, you fire off some tweets…
Do this:
But don’t do this:
Second, I encourage parent advocates to promote more and attack less. By this I mean, instead of attacking three-cueing or criticizing your school’s use of leveled readers, frame your advocacy in positive terms. Talk about the magic of knowledge-building text-sets. Share videos like these. Analogize screening for dyslexia to screening for colon cancer (without the awfulness of a colonoscopy…ehh, maybe not the best example). This approach gives teachers positive models. It invites and includes them to ask questions and envision change. So..the next time, you fire off some tweets…
Do this:
But don’t do this:
Finally, I'd be remiss not to mention the pain and anguish parents experience, as they watch their children struggle and suffer. It’s not easy to extend empathy and grace and positivity to teachers, when your child is actively suffering and struggling because of what’s happening in the classroom. I’m not sure if I could do that. This brings me to my final point. Parents and teachers have a shared purpose here: children. The more we can ground our conversations in the child’s experience, the better. This work is not about parents. It is not even really about teachers, although it affects them. It’s about teaching as many students as possible to be fluent and capable readers. The more we return to that purpose, the more easily we’ll be able to work together to improve children’s lives. So…the next time, you fire off some tweets…
