Are The Goals We Set for Our Struggling Learners Holding Them Back?

Dan is a 9th grade student who is into hockey, skateboarding, and horror flicks.  He has a handful of good friends, is crushing on a girl in his 3rd period math class, and can eat his body weight in cafeteria tater tots.  He also has a learning disability.  In grade 4 he was professionally assessed and diagnosed with ADHD.  His parents were told that because of limitations in his working memory, learning would be a challenge.

Dan's parents sat down with his teachers in elementary school who developed an Individualized Program Plan (IPP) to help support him in his learning.  With the help of aids, he was able to keep his head above water for the next few years, but things started going really sideways around grade 7.  He was failing classes and getting in trouble at school.  He stopped taking his ADHD meds, claiming they didn't help and that he "didn't need them and was stupid anyway, so what's the point."

As he entered high school, his IPP came along with him.  His four teachers in his four classes were given access to a digital version of the document and asked, without ever having met him, to craft some goals and expectations for this student.  They each read his background diligently and each of them make their level best attempt at writing some goals that are consistent with the background spelled out in the document and his grades history.  They write things like...

"Dan will self-advocate and identify instances where accessing accommodations will be of benefit."

"Dan will seek assistance from his classroom teachers and resource aids for help when encountering difficulties."

It is a Tuesday, and Dan has a science test.  He hasn't studied.  He hasn't handed in any of his homework from the unit.  He hasn't attended all of the classes in which the test material was covered.  He is anxious.  There is a knot in his stomach, and he can't keep his feet from wiggling.  He knows that he won't be able to focus on what the test will say, and he knows it would be easier if he moved to a quieter space.  He also knows that if he can hear the questions instead of reading them, that they'll make more sense.

But he also knows everyone in the room will look at him if he asks for anything.  He knows they'll think he's an idiot.  He knows they'll make fun of him later.  He knows that if he just sits there and says nothing, no one will look at him, no one will think badly of him, and no one will care that he doesn't understand any of what's on this test.

The teacher places the test in front of him and pauses for a moment.  He leans in and very quietly whispers,

"Dan, would you like to do this test in the resource room?"

Dan's heart is in his throat.  He can feel everyone staring at him.  His face flushes.

"No, I'm good... I-I'll be fine," he stammers.

The teacher lingers...

"Are you sure?"

"I'm fine."

Dan guesses on almost every question.  He fails.  Again.

*****

It sounds pretty bleak, but if you're thinking this is a rare and particularly fabricated tale, I'll just say that I wish it were so.  Tragically, I can admit that I have played the role of teacher in that tale, and I have taught a great many "Dans."

We come with the very best of intentions, but the execution is all too often simply not meeting the real needs of our kids.  And tragically, too many teachers, administrators, and systems people are not being sufficiently critical of their practices to move this in another direction.

We talk a pretty lofty and idealistic game about how we're going to help kids grow into strong, resilient, self-reliant young adults.  We craft high-minded phrases like "will self-advocate and identify instances" and "will seek assistance" when we imagine how students will climb that responsibility ladder and pull themselves out of intellectual poverty.  Unfortunately, those "goals" are too often the reason for why they can't or don't.

Whether it's a learning disability, a rough home life, an empty belly, or a health problem, kids are bringing hosts of factors beyond their control to school.  We might want them to have "grit," and we might hope they'll all take responsibility for their learning, but our wants and hopes don't make these things happen by themselves any more than theirs do.

It's time for us to own up to the reality that kids are falling through the cracks and that we're contributing to that.  Yes, they have homes, and lives, and histories, and genes that also contribute.  But those facts do not absolve us from doing what we can to make meaningful strides in helping the marginalized and struggling learners in our charge.

When our first conversations with challenged learners start with "goals" that our students had no hand in creating and that ultimately distill down to "try harder" or "figure it out for me," then we've failed them before they've even walked into the building.  Telling kids the only way they'll get help is to come ask for it, when it's already painfully obvious they need the help, is irresponsible.  We have a responsibility as educators to avoid creating barriers that keep kids from getting the help they need.  Heaping the responsibility for learning exclusively on to these students isn't going to build their resiliency, agency, or sense of self-advocacy.  It will (and does) build their resentment, self-loathing, and disenfranchisement.  It is our responsibility to be the care givers and to try to meet them where they are in order to help them forward, rather than to expect them to come on their own.

I won't pretend to have all the solutions.  I'm struggling with this as well, but here are a few suggestions I can offer:

• Make a very distinct point of making a personal connection with your struggling learners.  It may take longer to whittle away their walls than those of your gregarious classroom all-stars, but keep working on them.  If you can build trust, make them feel safe, make them feel cared for, you might be able to get them to drop the armor long enough to learn how best to help and support them.


• Find a way to generate one-on-one conversations with those students away from the ears and eyes of their peers.  Create private and personalized codes or signals as necessary with them so as to minimize exposure of their vulnerabilities.


• Constantly reflect on what's working and what's not for these students.  Don't assume that the accommodations that they showed up with are still serving their needs.  Try different approaches if things aren't working.  Do they need a reader?  Text-to-speech? A peer mentor or study buddy?  A different kind of desk or chair?  A meal?  A kind ear?  Don't let it leave your radar.  It's hard; I get it.  Schedule yourself an IPP check in your calendar if you think it'll fall off your plate.


• Reflect on the process by which your school generates IPPs (or whatever your particular jurisdiction calls this type of document).  Are students and parents directly involved in the creation and maintenance of these documents?  If not, become an advocate for changing that.


• Talk with the rest of the folks that teach and work with these kids to find out what they're doing and learning about them, especially the resource teachers who are specifically trained in working with kids sporting learning disabilities.  Get off the island and collaborate.


• Reflect and be critical of your practice.  Yes, accountability is a thing, and we want kids to learn to be accountable.  But that is one goal among many, and for some kids, it might not be the most important goal at that moment.  Don't let "holding kids accountable for their learning" be your "moral" justification for not helping them to learn.  Dig deeper.  Figure them out.  Ask for help if you need it, and don't be afraid to admit that you don't know what to do.  Most days neither do I.  Let's keep trying together.

For more information and resources, Alberta Education has an Inclusive Education Library that is very helpful: http://www.learnalberta.ca/content/ieptLibrary/index.html

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The Going Gets Tough - 7 Change Obstacle Dodging Strategies

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Before getting into this post, I'd like to take moment to share something based on a little constructive feedback I recently received...

While I do hope this blog will be read by others (for all of the psychological "payoffs" one would associate with authoring), the truth is that the main reason I write here is to distill and clarify my own thoughts on the process of bringing about positive change.  If you happen to find the use of the second person in my writing and my constant referring to you as the reader a bit presumptuous and forthright, please consider that for most of my writing the "you" I am communicating to in these posts is really, more than anyone else, me.

Thanks for reading.

- Jason

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TL;DR: Change is hard, and most folks would rather dance with the devil they know than the one they don't.  Identify your obstacles before they show up, be clear about your purpose and your plan, and find both the emotional and intellectual reasons for your stakeholders to support it.

Imagine for a minute that a government transportation official came on TV one day and announced that they would be overhauling all of the rules and laws for driving on roads in order to reduce the frequency of traffic accidents.  Additionally, imagine they hadn't yet fully sorted out the new rules and in their "infinite wisdom" decided that until the new rules were established, all existing rules would be null and void.  Traffic signals & such would still be functional, but no one would be required to obey any of the existing signals or rules until new ones had been established.

Firstly, consider your emotional response to such a proposal.  Granted, the scenario is ludicrous, so a realistic emotional response may be unlikely, but if you can try to imagine how you (or anyone else) would react to such an announcement, could you honestly say that your response would be one of excitement or relief?  Probably not.

The concept is ridiculous for a number of reasons, but consider for a moment what might actually happen in the days immediately following such a radical announcement.  Do you imagine the roads suddenly becoming utter chaos?  I suppose it's possible, but I suspect that what would most likely happen is that the overwhelming majority of folks would simply continue doing what they have always done until they were told to do otherwise: stopping on red, and going on green.  We might all be a lot more mindful and observant of the other drivers around us, but most likely we'd try getting around with what we already knew and were used to.

One of the reasons this is so is because change, particularly change involving uncertain outcomes, is something that we are biologically wired to resist.  Changes, especially the unexpected or ones with uncertain outcomes, trigger our most basic survival instincts.  When we're running on instinct, we tend to operate on what we know, what is familiar, and what is safe.

Now take a moment to think about this in the context of educational reform.  A teacher (or a school or a jurisdiction) is challenged with making a radical change to their operating procedures in order to produce a particular set of outcomes.  If the change has never really been tried, the path to the outcome is uncertain and its achievement is far from guaranteed.  How do most people tend to react to this?

Leadership author, Brent Filson, describes the motivational patterns of individuals in an organization as following a 20-60-20 rule:  He postulates that roughly 20% of people are highly motivated, impactful, and able to adapt to organizational or environmental change with little to no disruption.  At the other end of the scale are the 20% of people who not only tend to get less accomplished, but may also sabotage (intentionally or otherwise) the performance of others.  The remaining 60% lie somewhere between these two extremes in terms of motivation and performance and are often influenced to lean more favorably toward one of the two 20% extremes depending upon how strong or dominant one polar group is relative to the other.

In the context of educational change, we can imagine a similar set of groupings.  Regardless of how well the case for change is made, you can typically divide educators into 3 orientations toward it:

Adopters are ready, willing, and able to make the shift right away.  This is our top group, and while they might not represent exactly 20%, they will still typically be in the minority.
Opposers are not only unready, but they are actively opposed to the change and will either openly or covertly resist it.  This is our bottom group and again, depending on the change, will still probably be in the minority.
What's left is that middle 60 (give or take a few points either way).  These folks could potentially wind up going in either direction, and often the motivational and influential tug-of-war that takes place between the two extreme groups will determine the direction in which the middle majority will head.

What's important to understand here is that the middle group, like a driver on roads suddenly without rules, feels best served by what they already know -- the status quo.

Those who actively oppose change get a leg up on the adopters because most folks, even if they might be inclined to head out on the roads and test the chaos (hopefully with far less potential for vehicular mayhem than rule-less roads), will still tend to lean toward what they already know how to do.  And of course, that is not change.  So whether we're talking about teachers implementing a new initiative, parents whose children are navigating unfamiliar teaching methods, or administrators implementing policy changes in a school or a jurisdiction, more people than not are going to tend to prefer the status quo to the untried and untested.  Eventually, even the best laid plans born from the best of intentions will come under scrutiny and opposition.

So let's assume that you, dear reader, are not only an adopter of change, but perhaps even an instigator of it.  You've got your idea or your plan, and you may even have some allies who want to spur changes along with you.  However, it has occurred to you, either by foresight or an encounter, that putting your plan into motion requires getting around, over, or through challenges or barriers put up by others who are not as convinced as you are that the plan is worth pursuing.

So I present to you 7 strategies for getting your change start-up past the roadblocks that might stymie or stall it before it ever gets off the ground.  Most of these strategies are suggested with that middle 60% group in mind.  It's not to say that you couldn't or shouldn't spend time and energy on the opposers.  It's just that once the masses are convinced, once the top 20 (of which you are a part) wins the tug-of-war, the nay-saying will no longer matter.  Even if leadership or gatekeepers are in opposition, once your plan becomes a movement of the masses, no one person can remain in opposition to the majority for long.

1.  Figure out who's going to care and why.

Some might call this a stakeholder map, but whatever you name it spending the time to sort out who the change is going to impact and how it will do so is a vital exercise.  It is also worth considering who has a stake in the implementation and/or the outcomes of your change and why they are going to care about it.  Change produces enough chaos on its own without needing help from confused and uncertain stakeholders.  Will colleagues be affected by your plan?  Which ones, and to what degree?  How about parents? Jurisdiction leaders?

Take time to have a real and honest conversation with your team about what impact your proposal will have on others.  The impact might very well be an overall positive one.  But even so, if your "rollout" gives the impression that you haven't considered others in your grand designs, it will be met with even more opposition.

It's also worth thinking about what each party will want to know and why they might object to your proposal.  This exercise will serve two purposes: Firstly, it will hopefully mitigate the risk of being caught off guard with a question or a concern for which you have no reasonable response.  Secondly, it may allow you to identify real problems with your plan before you pitch it to others.

2.  Be prepared to answer a question that will likely go unasked: "What's in it for me?"

We all want to be able to say that "we're in it for the kids."  However, one needn't look very far or hard to find structures or procedures in education that serve the adults in the system more than the students.  That may seem an indictment of public education, but in reality it is simply an acknowledgement of the fact that the people in education are just that: people.  To some extent we're all looking out for number one, even when we're trying to look out for our students.

When the winds of change start blowing, each and every one of us, whether by instinct or intent, tries to evaluate how the change will impact our own lives and our own practices directly.  When that impact is unclear, the reaction is no better than one to an impact that is clearly negative.

To avoid this reaction, consider what positive effect your proposal might have on the person or group you are pitching the idea to.  Certainly you can (and likely should) come armed with informational ammunition about how your approach will positively impact students and their learning.  But people will also want to know how your change will impact them.  Will this save them time, make them more effective at their jobs, reduce their stress levels, or solve a problem in their lives?  Find what their emotional payoff could or should be and spell that out.  If you can't find one, at the very least be able to offer them as clear a picture as possible of what the impact will be.

3.  Make sure you have a clear idea of what needs to be done along the way.

You can have the most glorious and well articulated end state in mind when you go to sell your idea, but if you can't show others that you've at least found the Yellow Brick Road, they'll be unlikely to believe that you're going to make it to The Emerald City.  Change requires new behaviors.  If you can't articulate what those new behaviors will be and how you will set about implementing them, they'll be less likely to accept that the results are achievable.

It's not enough to say "we're going to increase student engagement."  That's an outcome, and it's a worthwhile one to be sure.  What your stakeholders want to know is how you're going to increase student engagement.  If you can't articulate how you hope to achieve your goals, at a minimum you should be able to articulate how you plan to find out.

4.  Find examples.

There's a very reasonable chance that you're not the first person to try this new thing that you want to try.  Who else has done what you want to do?  Has it worked?  Can you show others that it worked and can you articulate why?  If possible, can you relate that narrative to others in the form of a story?  If so, you've got a compelling recipe for overcoming objections before they are ever raised.  So take the time to do your research.

5.  Call in the cavalry.

Who else would be interested in seeing this change move forward?  Is it consistent with the long range plans of your jurisdiction, your parent council, or your government?  Are there allies whose support or endorsement may lend weight to overcoming opposition?  This may be a delicate issue, so certainly tread with care, but is there a person or organization in a position of superiority or influence to your potential opposition who would be an effective ally?  Consider that you may need to develop a support base before bringing the change to a particular stakeholder.

6.  Can it be prototyped?

If what you're proposing is, in fact, too much for a school or a department to bite off in one move, consider whether it's possible to do what you want on a smaller scale in order to demonstrate its efficacy.  Does narrowing the time frame make it more manageable?  How about the number of students/staff involved?  Can you create a "school within a school" where those who want to opt in can do so without heavily impacting those who do not?  Having a Plan B ready to go that allows you to achieve modest steps forward may be the necessary alternative to simply being told "no."

7.  Be mindful and listen.

Education reimaginer Monika Hardy encourages us to notice, dream, connect, do.  The first step in that sequence is "notice."  In her context, she encourages us to notice the problems and the needs of the world around us and to work towards filling those needs.  In this context the problems and needs of your stakeholders will be communicated to you through both their support and their opposition.  Taking careful notice of those messages and considering them mindfully (as opposed to focussing strictly on your own agenda) will allow you to navigate the challenges you will face as you attempt to bring the vision into reality.

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Change is certainly hard, but whatever happens, stick with it.  Change author Seth Godin tells us that "the way we make change happen is by being human, by being connected, and by doing things that might not work."  It's OK that it might not work.  We know that keeping the things the same ultimately isn't going to work either.  So march on.

Vive le resistance!



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