I loved school as a kid! LOVED! I enjoyed the socializing part and playing at recess and lunch. The joy I found in helping teachers to make copies, staple packets, and put up bulletin boards should have been my first clue that I might be a teacher (somehow that didn't land until later!). I even loved the learning...especially if there was a little friendly competition involved.
I loved it all...until college!
My first experience with college, besides the application, was lines. Long, long lines! Standing in various lines in the registration office as a freshman was intimidating. I wasn't sure I was in the right line or what form I was supposed to have done by the time I made it to the front of this never-ending stream of people. I was unsure and a little nervous about this new experience.
When I got to the front of the first line, the lady in the window took my paper, looked it over and noticed a missing piece.
"What is your major?" she asked curtly.
I stared at her for a moment.
"Pardon me?" (That's what Canadians say when they are confused by a question.)
"Your MAJOR!?!" She snarled.
Her look told me that I was likely lacking some essential brain cells...a little bit daft, as they say in Britain.
I distinctly remember the how I felt in that instant. I was shrinking... in stature, in intelligence and in maturity.
I became less.
Small.
Insignificant.
It wasn't that the question was bad. It wasn't even the tone, as harsh and condescending as it was. After all, I have never really been a "snowflake" kind of person, that melts when people are rude (I still consider this early preparation for an admin role!).
So what was the problem?
Simple. I didn't understand the question. Being the first in my family to go to college, I didn't know the rules about declaring a major or what type of majors I could choose from.
Actually, I didn't know what a major was.
Embarrassed, I just looked at her, unsure of what to say. She did a semi-eye-roll and said, "Fine. I'll put 'undecided.'"
That night I debated. Do I stick with this college thing or just give up now? The interaction during my first day of registration had shaken my confidence. There was clear evidence that I really didn't know what I was doing. It would be so much easier to give up, than continue to try and actually fail! Maybe this college thing was just not for me.
I came close to giving up that night. Very close.
There are barriers in education.
Bureaucracy and politics,
Policies and procedures,
Environment and historical approaches,
Philosophies that don't support all learners.
These barriers hold people back,
discourage learners,
and make it easier to quit than to try.
I didn't quit. I didn't quit, because I had reasons to continue.
I had a loving, supportive family who encouraged me along the way and taught me the value of hard work and grit.
I had a love of learning, solidly established by great teachers who believed in me.
I had the privilege of having a setting that allowed me to focus.
I had such a great support system, that I didn't run into barriers until college...and then had the tools I needed to push past them.
But they exist.
We have them at every level, every district, every site, in every classroom.
Our students may encounter barriers like:
- technology issues
- wifi access
- unclear teacher expectations
- inflexible class structures
- lack of quality feedback prior to summative assessments
- lack of quiet environment to learn
- too much homework with not enough support
- too many expectations at home to focus on learning
- a sick family member needing care while parents work
- or other issues that life brings.
Some of these barriers we have no control over.
Some of them, we do!
This week we talked with and emailed a lot of parents who are concerned about the success of their students. Some of the students are failing multiple classes, some are only failing one or two. Yet, the questions were the same.
"How do we help our child?"
"What can we do?"
"What should we focus on?"
"Is there a way to fix this?"
I hear the snarky version of an answer in my head, "It's a little late to be asking that now, more than 1/2 way through the semester!".
And as I picture that response, I see the parent and student becoming...
less,
small,
insignificant,
hopeless.
My experience in education has formed who I am and who I am not.
Today, I'm thinking of who I don't want to be.
I don't want to be that person who makes our students feel like it might just be better to give up now, rather than try... and still end up failing!
I don't want to make learning something only students with "good" homes (like mine) have access to.
I don't want to give up on students just because they are late to the game, or confused on how it is played.
I know you have experiences that have formed you, too. As successful as you have been, there have been barriers, hurdles, and set backs that you have had to overcome. Think back about what supports you had around you that allowed you to become the amazing person you are today. Maybe it was family, friends, teachers, mentors, tutors, counselors, access to finances, a place to stay, a variety of help options or even the help of a stranger.
Our students may not have these same supports.
Their pathway to success may be littered with barriers...ones from their home life...and maybe ones we have put there.
It's time to think about what we want and don't want for our students.
It's time to consider how our expectations and policies might be insurmountable barriers for some students who already have obstacles in their way.
It's time to consider the barriers students are dealing with at home.
It's time to talk about, think about and consider whether our policies align with what we want for students.
It's time to think about our students' barriers to learning.
It's time to remove them.
Kim
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