In my new book, , I note the hard-won cynicism with which so many parents and teachers greet talk of 鈥渟chool reform.鈥� Leaders will say, 鈥淚 get it. People are skeptical. I have to earn their trust.鈥� But I find that these leaders too rarely appreciate the true scope of the challenge.
(By the way, for a lively conversation on all this, check out the video of the book launch , in which Louisiana state schools chief Cade Brumley, D.C. chief Christina Grant, Partnerships Schools Supe Kathleen Porter-Magee, and I dig into these challenges.)
The toughest thing in the world, especially when we鈥檙e enamored with promising new ideas, may be to understand why someone else 鈥渄oesn鈥檛 get it.鈥� This applies to everything from social and emotional learning to new tutoring systems.
Most parents and teachers have seen plenty of 鈥渢ransformative鈥� education leaders, reforms, and technologies come and go. Heck, the education reform landscape is littered with the disappointing detritus of once-hailed innovators (and their once-acclaimed innovations).
The reality is, when a new principal rises to give that rousing charge in their first faculty meeting (鈥淭his is a new day! What鈥檚 come before is prologue. Everybody gets a clean slate!鈥�), that principal is usually the only one in the room who believes it. The same applies to every superintendent who鈥檚 ever unveiled their bold, new strategic vision. For many teachers, it鈥檚 the second or third (or seventh) time they鈥檝e heard such a speech. They鈥檝e learned to tune it out and tell each other, 鈥淭his too shall pass.鈥�
How do you break through that? Well, you won鈥檛 do it by insisting that this time 鈥渢hings really will be different.鈥�
You cannot assume that others will agree this time is different. Trust has to be earned. Leaders earn it by making parents and educators feel like their concerns are being heard and taken seriously.
Sit with a teacher, and they鈥檒l tell you how hard they work, how unappreciated they feel, and how much energy they devote to helping their students succeed鈥攂ut also how often 迟丑别测鈥檙别 hampered by meddling principals.
Sit down with a principal, and they鈥檒l tell you how hard they work, how long their days are, and how much energy they put into helping their teachers and students succeed鈥攂ut also how often 迟丑别测鈥檙别 hampered by the meddling clowns in the central office.
Talk to a superintendent or those 鈥渕eddling clowns鈥� in the central office, and they鈥檒l tell you. ... You get the idea.
When it comes to putting all this to work, especially in a time of intense polarization and after three years of educational disruption, the most important (and easiest to overlook) lesson I鈥檝e learned over time is that everyone involved in schooling thinks 迟丑别测鈥檙别 the hero of the story.
Those who don鈥檛 get that are constantly wondering why so many mean-spirited people are standing in their way. But savvy leaders know those same 鈥渙bstructionists鈥� are wondering why 测辞耻鈥檙别 in their way. Whether it鈥檚 about revamping a program, modifying gender policies, or altering school choice policies, those on both sides are sure 迟丑别测鈥檙别 right.
In public schooling, where kids, values, and big sums are at stake, emotions run hot. Parents can lash out at proposals to change start times or revamp familiar programs. Teachers can experience proposed reforms as a personal attack or a threat to their autonomy. Trying to 鈥渨in鈥� these debates by shaming or outmuscling doubters tends only to fuel bitter backlash. The veterans of the fights over No Child Left Behind or the Common Core can share some stories on that score.
Leaders who dismiss parental concerns as selfish or uninformed only inflame the opposition. Waving away teacher concerns by insisting the new policy is the 鈥渞ight鈥� thing to do will only foster skepticism.
If you appreciate that everyone thinks their heart is in the right place (and that 测辞耻鈥檙别 the problem), you recognize that hectoring is a dead-end strategy. Insist that the 鈥渞esearch鈥� is on your side, and they鈥檒l just answer by pointing to research of their own. Tell them that 测辞耻鈥檙别 鈥渇or the kids,鈥� and they鈥檒l just answer by insisting, 鈥淣ope, I am.鈥�
How do we break this cycle? Rather than selling our preferred solution, it can help to start by asking what鈥檚 not working and what we might do differently. That allows room for a different dynamic to emerge. If a program or contract provision made sense in 1975, so be it. That鈥檚 cool. No judgment. Does it still make sense today? Asked this way, there鈥檚 more room for problem-solving and less for table-pounding. If we want school improvement to play out differently over the next 20 years than it has over the past 20, we need to make that happen.
