
Entry # 8: Gaining a foothold
with a small core of teachers
My thoughts are fragmented at the moment, and I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed.
I need to draft individualized plans for each of the 12 schools in our Cluster.
There are only three of us on our team and we cannot devote full time to
school visits because we have meetings to prepare for, and attend. In fact,
I can't really count myself as a third person since I'm only available about
half of the time, sometimes less.
So here I am, a half person, trying to draft plans that will service 12
schools in a meaningful way. It seems we need to balance our overall goals
for the schools with the goals that the schools are stating for themselves.
In some instances, these goals mesh nicely, but in others there's a disconnect.
Some schools have very clear needs for staff development in order to get
new programs up and running. Some administrators want support for new staff
members, almost a quasi-mentorship. These needs are real and we will try
to address them, but it can't be all we do.
My question is how I/we can respond to the schools' immediate needs for
support around Balanced Literacy or Everyday Math, while simultaneously
building a deeper awareness of the need to go beyond this or that particular
model or program.
Many educators are operating on autopilot
We have to get at the larger questions. We need to move beyond the fix-it
mode and into building leadership capacity in all of our schools. So, how
do we do that? How do we share our passion for going deeper, with our colleagues
in the classrooms?
My new position has afforded me a greater opportunity to study, to read,
to think about, both the causes of our teaching and learning problems, and
the interventions we might attempt. But my study and ideas won't amount
to a hill of beans, if I can't get past our biggest problem, which as I
see it, is a fairly basic confusion about our ability to effect change.
Most of the teachers and a fair number of the administrators that I've met
seem to feel less than hopeful. Citing examples of bureaucratic roadblocks,
insufficient funds, time constraints, lack of parental supports, and the
notoriously overworked "these kids" lament, many educators are
operating on autopilot.
Don't get me wrong, even "autopilot" takes a fair amount of energy
and skill. Running a large class, keeping things under control, maintaining
a civil climate, and presenting information to students is not easy, but
I'm not sure it's quality teaching, either.
Are you really teaching if students aren't learning?
A year or so ago, I got to questioning whether I could call myself "really
teaching," if my students weren't learning. I was clear that I was
working, even working hard, but without the payoff that only increased student
achievement could provide, I felt I wasn't teaching.
My recognition of this disconnect in my classroom served me well. I didn't
find all the answers, or achieve instant teaching success, but I did change
my approach. I began to look at my teaching through a new lens.
I recognized that I couldn't effectively reach my students if I didn't collaborate
with other teachers. I took my responsibility to reflect upon my teaching
much more seriously. I understood that no amount of isolated, hard work
was going to move us forward qualitatively.
I also came to see that new programs -- even flashy interventions like integrating
computer technology -- would not do the trick if we didn't shift the overall
structure and approach of our dealings with kids.
I understood that I needed to listen more closely to the strengths and the
needs that my students brought to the mix. I began to confront my assumptions
about who they were and what they needed from me, and I did that by opening
up the process.
Making my teaching and learning public was the key to pushing the envelope
for me. Looking at student work closely with colleagues on a regular basis
ensured that these changes were systemmatic and ongoing.
Taking these steps renewed my commitment to teaching. My sense of the possibilities
in our classrooms, of my own power in the process, was refueled. I didn't
work harder, but I did begin to work better.
So how can I get other folks to take themselves more seriously? Where's
the spark that will rekindle the fire that led them to teaching in the first
place?
I want teachers to take responsibility for their own learning, too
These questions aren't really that different from those I had to begin asking
my kids. I wanted them to take responsibility for their own learning, and
in a way that's what I want my colleagues in the schools to do, too.
I know I can't force them to drink from the well of teacher collaboration.
I realize that no protocol can yield results, if the participants don't
first buy in to the process, and yet, in a way, I've been trying to do just
that.
I have been operating as if I could skip the foundation-setting, the team
building, and just dive right in to the deep end of the process, dragging
my new colleagues in with me.
Because I have administrative support, I have tried to use it as a wedge
to get peoples' attention. It's almost as if I've forgotten the lessons
of my classroom.
I know all too well that having a captive audience is a far cry from capturing
the hearts and minds of that same audience.
Gaining a foothold with a small core of teachers
Now, I'm thinking that our initial plans, the ones I have to draft this
afternoon, will necessarily focus on the immediate needs that the schools
have put forward. Beyond that, I/we'll try to introduce some aspects of
the broader conversation in our leadership meetings and our individual conversations.
I need to gain a foothold with a small core of teachers in each building,
and I should have learned by now that there aren't any shortcuts for that
kind of trust building.
Patience is definitely not one of my virtues. I need to take a step back
and deal with the fact that it's my first year again. I'm the new kid on
the block, and I'm definitely being viewed with skepticism. Folks have a
wait-and-see attitude about me. They're waiting to see if I too shall pass.
Given all the upheaval in our system, I guess some skepticism is a healthy
sign. Hopefully, our consistent responsiveness as individuals, and as a
whole team, will begin to open some doors. Time will tell.
I may not always be patient enough with myself or others, but I am plenty
stubborn. It took me a long time to leave my classroom -- to go out and
try to do good work at this level. I don't intend to burn out quietly or
quickly. I have a lot to learn, but I think I'm ready.
[Editor's note: Deb is co-moderator of the
new MiddleWeb listserve.]
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