Entry # 1: Home-school partnerships
require more than "being like me"
A couple of weeks ago I was in the drugstore waiting to pick up my vacation
pictures. While I waited in line I overheard a conversation between the
cashier and a mother and child in the next line.
The cashier was telling the little boy how lucky he was to have Mrs. So
& So for a teacher in Sept. She explained that three of her kids had
been in this teacher's class and that they had all liked her. She then went
on to tell the other mother that the teacher was "great, someone you
could really talk to, someone you could just walk up to if you needed to
talk about something that was worrying you."
I was struck by the fact that this teacher was labeled "great"
because parents could feel comfortable talking to her. I couldn't help thinking
about the other side of this story. The implication that some, if not most,
teachers are not easy to talk to, was very disturbing to say the least.
Fast forward to the IBM-Hursley Center, in England. I was sent to England
last week to closely examine the registration process for their new interactive
learning system. As a teacher, I was asked to share my perspective about
registration obstacles which parents and teachers might experience. The
designers were clear that they might be unaware of glitches because their
comfort level vis a vis tech applications is significantly higher than that
of the general community.
While I was in England the notion that the system should be inclusive and
user-friendly was underscored time and time again. I was impressed with
the willingness of these experts to respectfully acknowledge and accommodate
the varied experience levels found in our school communities.
Powerful lessons about engaging families
I took a book called Engaging
Families: Connecting Home and School Literacy Communities to England
with me. The book by Betty Shockley, Barbara Michalove and JoBeth Allen
documents their efforts to establish literacy partnerships between their
students, their first and second grade classrooms and their students' families.
Their story of the formation of literacy communities to support the emergent
literacy of their children offers some powerful lessons to anyone concerned
with teaching and learning.
Early on in the process one of the teachers asks, "What do we mean
by the home-school connection? Is it, 'Let me show you how to be like me?'
". WOW!
This teacher's question knocked me out. I couldn't help remembering my own
experience as a Home & School mom. I remembered feeling like we were
totally accepted as long as we were selling cupcakes, chaperoning trips
and basically doing what we were told to do. I also remembered the uneasiness
of some teachers when a group of us began to question the academic outlook
or plans of the school.
Teachers were comfortable with me and explained that "I was ok, but
I had to understand that all of the parents weren't like me...." I
knew then, and I know now, that the "other" parents, the parents
who had less in common with the teachers, were the ones they were worried
about.
I was uncomfortable with my semi-privileged acceptance, but I didn't really
challenge these anti-parent biases head-on. Instead, I went on to become
a teacher and heard even more of the attitudes and statements about "those
parents," the ones who could be counted on for complaints but not support.
A confusing separation between home and school
As a teacher, I tried to have better, more respectful relationships with
parents. I thought I understood that parents and family members had valuable
insights about their children's learning even if they hadn't been successful
students themselves. I knew that our racial, cultural and socio-economic
differences didn't need to separate us where our children were concerned.
I knew all this, but in retrospect, I don't think I made a break with the
"be like me/us" syndrome which plagues most of our outreach efforts
with families.
I recognized that my family had played a tremendous role in my own development,
despite the legacy of their own sometimes-unhappy experiences in school.
I loved the storytelling around my grandmother's table, the swapping of
lies or "shooting the breeze" that my father and uncles did regularly.
Was it the phonics lessons and the "Dick & Jane " reading
books that engendered my love of books or was it my family's influence?
The love and support I got from my family buoyed my confidence as I tackled
my school work. My family had high expectations for me at school, but they
never got involved. In fact, when I went to school, nobody's parents were
involved beyond making them do their homework, and ensuring our respectful
behavior.
As I got older, I understood that school was not a place where my loved
ones felt comfortable. I was saddened by this realization. I was generally
very comfortable at school, and I loved my family. The separation was confusing,
but I didn't give it a lot of thought.
As I read Betty et al's book and participated at Hursley last week, the
cashier's comments about the "great teacher" rang in my ears.
I heard myself talking about inclusive language and the varied circumstances
of our children. I think my comments were helpful, but if we change the
words, but don't challenge the underpinnings, will it make a difference?
My "sensitivity" as a teacher was appreciated by my childrens'
families, but it fell short of the mark. My goal wasn't just being nicer,
my goal was a partnership to support our kids.
Parents knew thay could talk to me. I gave out my phone number to everyone
and my door was always open, but in reality, the communication was largely
one way. I was good about explaining my expectations and not so good about
learning their expectations. Ugh.
Families have something of their own to contribute
Back to "Engaging Families" and the powerful model it recounts.
Beginning with the notion that families had something independent to contribute
to the learning process, these teachers got it right.
Family members who had their own anxieties about their personal literacy
skills were empowered to actively facilitate their childrens' learning.
They understood that helping their kids was more important than hiding their
real or imagined mistakes as readers, writers or parents.
As the kids saw the importance of reading and writing to their families,
they embraced the process as their own. As teachers and families connected,
the connections of the children to both groups was strengthened.
As I delve into my new job, a job one step removed from parents and students,
I need to refocus my efforts to involve families. I don't want to facilitate
"niceness," I want to be part of the move toward authentic partnerships
between Homes and School through the use of conversation, the use of new
technolgy, the use of any means necessary.
I'm glad that I can now count on Betty Shockley as a colleague. I will continue
to read her written accounts of her work with children and their families,
but I can write to her directly too. Betty and I were involved in the coaches'
training which I described a few weeks ago.
I'm feeling the pinch of recognizing the opportunities I've missed as a
teacher, but I'm also feeling empowered by the recognition that my commitment
to learning from my mistakes will continue to serve me well in the future.
[Editor's note: Deb will serve as co-moderator of the
new MiddleWeb listserve, which will begin early this fall.]
Read next week's entry >>>
<<< Read last year's
entries
Comment on this week's entry
Back to Deborah's 2000-2001
Diary Index