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.
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.
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