Permission to Talk...and Listen

Before you continue reading, I want to ask permission to discuss a very important and potentially sensitive topic.  I promise you in advance that my intent is only pure, but I also recognize this may be a difficult topic to share.  I also ask for forgiveness if I offend anyone.  Over the last year as I've been writing this blog, so many people have shared supportive comments.  Today's topic will be potentially challenging for us.  I trust our community, however, to listen, reflect, and take action...for our kids.



As a young teacher in Indiana I was deeply impacted and involved with my community's efforts to deter the racist efforts of the Ku Klux Klan.  This organization has a long history of advocating for hate, racism, segregation, and fear.  It was easy for our community to unite to stand against the KKK's form of racism.

Now, however, our generation is faced with another form of racism.  While this form of racism is not blant and intentional like the KKK, it is no less real.  Quite simply, there is an achievement gap between our African American students and other students in our schools.  Perhaps you've read about these gaps?  (While I know Wikipedia is not a scholarly journal, I encourage you to review the information shared on this page for an introductory discussion of achievement gaps based on race and other characteristics.  In fact, our district has gaps between other ethnicities as well.)  Unfortunately, these gaps are a national, state, and local trend.  The causes for the gaps are complex and not fully understood.  In some cases researchers feel like the gaps start even before children enter school.  The gaps seem to be not as noticeable in the lower grades, but they become more obvious as the students get older and progress through the educational system. 

I was made aware of the gaps in our district and county when I first became a principal about 7 years ago.  While sitting in a workshop about how to better use data, I was in disbelief.  "This couldn't be happening in my district...not in my school..not in my classroom.  I'm not racist." This workshop was the beginning of an ongoing journey self-exploration, education, and reflection on my own attitudes and beliefs.

I believe our students' achievement is impacted by the unconscious racial attitudes and sensitivities brought to school by each person in an entire community--black, white, or any other color.  As a whole, I believe our country is not comfortable discussing race on a personal level.  We say things like, "I don't see color," or "I treat everyone the same."  And yet statistics would say otherwise. All of the students in our schools are not treated the same--at least as measured by academic achievement.  Are all students afforded the same, high expectations?  If we say, "We do not see color," do we really see the student--or do we project our personal experience on a student without fully understanding that student's background?"  If we don't see the student, do we understand the student?  Are we able to have a relationship built on trust with that student?  These are difficult questions to answer.  I know.  I/we struggle with them each day.

While we don't know exactly what will close these gaps, I do know what doesn't work.  Most of all, apathy is dangerous.  Trying to think these gaps are not real or that someone else is responsible will not make a difference.  There is room for every person in our community to be engaged to help every student be successful.  Placing blame or feeling guilty does not help move us forward.  Being critical or attacking will also not work.  If we only point fingers and don't listen to learn from our mistakes--conscious or unconscious--then gaps persist.  Hiring practices to ensure we have teachers of color to match the diversity of the student body does not work.  From what I understand, having students in classes with a teacher of their race is not the deciding factor in a student's achievement.  (On a personal note, I do believe we should work to be more  inclusive in our hiring practices, but I do not feel like this is to close achievement gaps.  Rather, a more diverse staff should mirror our community.)  Stereotyping individuals does not help.  We must remember that each student-of any color-is unique and does not represent all that is negative or positive in any statistic.  Finally, fear does not help;  fear of being called a racist or even fear of offending someone. I am embarrassed to say that in the past I avoided making much-needed statements to help specific students because I worried I would be called a racist.  In fact, by treating kids differently and having different standards, I probably was being racist.

So, what should we do to make a difference in these gaps?  First, it's important to set clear goals.  It's cliche to say it, but without setting goals you don't know where you're going.  As noted in the following links, our district and county have set goals to close achievement gaps.  These goals drive our practices:

...practices like partnering with parents.  Our school district partners with many amazing parent groups and organizations, but Parents of African American Students in Novi is an official support organization as recognized by our Board of Education and is dedicated to helping all students achieve in our district.  

...practices like committing to teaching our community that each person has a voice.  We call this the social justice pillar in our district.  As part of this pillar, our K-6 schools are actively teaching students Covey's Seven Habits of Highly Effective People. Additionally, our high school students have opportunities to participate in youth dialogues on race as facilitated by the University of Michigan.  Also, our staff has opportunities to receive intensive development as facilitated by the University of Michigan's School of Social Work.  These series of capacity building workshops have transformed how many of our staff view themselves and our students.  Our superintendent recently wrote a column for our local newspaper regarding our district's commitment to social justice and diversity.
...practices like ensuring each student has a teacher or teacher who is using research-based instruction to teach and assess a rigorous curriculum.  Our district has recently aligned our curriculum.  Knowing what we are supposed to teach and making sure our teachers are as effective as possible is crucial to our students' success.  In addition to the regular support teachers receive from each other and their principals principals, our district has an instructional coaching staff who are dedicated to working with teachers to become even better teachers.

Most importantly, in addition to our goal-driven practices, what I believe our district and community needs to do more of:

• We must talk.
• We must listen.
• We must understand.

Schools, parents, communities...must become more comfortable discussing our perceptions, roles, and attitudes.  We must talk about how we can change and improve the overall system.  We must never judge someone based on one assessment.  We must reflect on how the assessments are written.  We need to not blame others-students, parents, teachers-others.  Sometimes this talk will be clumsy.  I know.  Talking about racism and achievement gaps takes courage.  You will feel uncomfortable.  I feel uncomfortable.  We will make mistakes.  We will offend.  We will potentially be offended.  Courage, however, does not mean everything will always be perfect.  Rather, courage means we will humbly ask forgiveness, give forgiveness, and persevere for our children.  Not talking about racism is like saying, "Not talking about cancer will make it go away."  I encourage everyone in our community...in your community...to find a way to unite--to talk, to listen, to understand.  Not unlike fighting against the KKK, we have a moral obligation to combat these gaps for our children..for all children.



For anyone near my school community of Novi, Michigan, please feel free to contact me if you are interested in ways to engage more in these conversations.  I have a shelf of books and articles that may interest you, and I am happy to share.  I am also connected through our school district with other professionals and community members who are working to talk, listen, and understand.  You can email me at dascher@novischools.net

A couple of titles that are great resources:

• Can We Talk About Race by Beverly Tatum.
• Are We Born Racist? edited by Smith, Marsh, and Denton.

A.P.I.

While my family and I were cleaning our kitchen after dinner last week, our middle school-aged daughters, my wife, and I were dancing and singing to music to make the job go a little faster.  The shuffle play brought up "Chain of Fools" by Aretha Franklin.  If you're not familiar with the song, you can hear it at this link. The song is a family-favorite, but I was taken back when our 8th grader responded, "You know, for the longest time I thought she was singing, 'Chain of Food.'"  We laughed,  but then I started thinking that this happens in songs all of the time.  What is heard and what is actually said are two different things.

I have different example from my childhood.

As a young child, my parents, sister, and I lived only about three minutes from my Grandma Ascher's house.  On many evenings after work and dinner with our family, my father would take my sister and me to see his parents.  (I learned later that this was to give my mother a break from us kids!)  Luckily for me and on most visits, my grandparents were still eating dinner when we arrived.  Grandma--never one to miss an opportunity to feed someone--always offered us food.  Never one to turn down food--I would sit and have another meal with Grandma and Grandpa. 

After awhile, my mother found out that I was eating two dinners a night.  My mom jokingly told me to be sure to tell my Grandma that I did get fed at home and that she didn't need to feed me again.  I reported to Grandma on my next visit, "Mom says I can't eat here anymore, Grandma."

What was said and what was heard were two different things.

Grandma, of course, quickly reached for the phone to talk with her daughter in-law on why she couldn't feed her grandson at her home.  Fortunately, mother in-law and daughter in-law clarified for each other what was really stated, and they both laughed.  In fact, this  is still a little family joke after over 40 years.  My mother was fine with me eating at Grandma's house.  Mom just wanted Grandma to understand that I was also getting fed at home.  As you can understand, a hungry boy is not always the best at delivering messages between adults.  Fortunately, my mother and grandmother have always had a trusting relationship, and I have always been well-fed at both homes!

I find some of the same miscommunications happen at school.  In this day of email, voice mail, cell phones, newsletters, social media, video conferencing, blogs, text messages, and so many other ways to share information, it seems like the real meaning or the intent of our message gets lost at times.  I was, however, recently reminded by a colleague something that really struck me.  If you always assume positive intent, the conversation will go much better.  She shortened "Assume Positive Intent" to A.P.I.

As schools we have many opportunities and responsibilities to communicate with parents and families.  Many of those communications are positive.  I'm grateful my teachers regularly call home or write notes to share successes our students are having, and I also know we can and should do more.  There are, of course, also times when difficult messages need to be shared.  Sometimes kids make mistakes or have concerns that need to be addressed.  Most are small, but some are serious.  Schools have an obligation to work with families to help children improve or to learn from their mistakes.  The messages, of course, go both ways between home and school.  In some rare cases, what is said is not always what is heard.  And then...schools and families need to re-clarify for each other.  (I personally advocate for a phone call or an in-person conversation.  It's hard to hear empathy over an email.)

When we assume positive intent I find this clarification much easier.  Plus, I genuinely believe the intent of any communication is to help the child.  Schools only want the best for their students, and parents only want the best for their children.  It's what we do.  There are always a few missteps along the way, but in this season of spring parent-teacher conferences, I encourage all teachers and parents to assume only positive intent.  It's what our kids deserve.

Sometimes You Have to Do It

In a previous entry on this blog, I shared that I stutter.  For whatever reason, I struggle with specific words.  The most troubling word happens to be...library.  It's crazy.  I know.  And--talking on the phone about a library puts this stutterer almost over the edge!  As you can imagine, I have nothing against libraries.  I actually love libraries.  My family is an active supporter of our public library where we live.  My wife served on the library board.  I've been on a visioning team for our libary, and our entire family uses the services our library has to offer all of the time.  It's no surprise that when asked to be on a citizens committee to help pass an operating millage for our library, I volunteered.  The final task our little committee had to do was to run a phone bank to call potential voters to remind them to vote to support the millage.  So, I had to call complete strangers and ask them to support our library.  You can't imagine how many times I had to stumble through that crazy word...on the phone!  I've learned to laugh, but really....I won't be signing up soon to serve on any library phone banks! :)


Do you ever have to do things that you don't like to do?  Of course.  Everyone does.

I've been working with a class of fourth graders who have been learning to master long division. This class happens to meet at a time of the day when my schedule is usually flexible. After visiting, the teacher welcomed me to be an extra pair of hands for future lessons. I genuinely miss the close relationship classroom teachers build with a small group of students, and being able to directly help-even just a bit-helps keep me in touch with the real work in my school--teaching and learning. Plus, it's fun to work with the kids.

I'm lucky. Teachers in our school help make topics like long division fun through rhymes, chants, pneumonics, and a general "We can do anything if we put our mind to it" attitude.  In fact, I'd say most of these kids actually enjoy doing the long division, but there are a few students who would prefer to not have anything to do with division or math for that matter. And yet, we persevere with them. We teach them that they can do something they don't like to do. Even more, we expect them to do things that make them reach or make them feel just a little unsure of themselves.

Supporting libraries matters to me.  I want our daughters to understand that you need to actively support causes that matter...even if it means you have to stumble through your fears or troubles.  I also want our students to understand that even if you're not super-excited to learn a topic, sometimes you need to just do it. 


PS--The millage passed, and...our students were successful with their division test.