Learning is Change

I don’t think it is overstating it to say that we don’t always speak the same language in Education. Aside from the more literal language barriers, the barrier of multiple definitions for critical problems holds us back from ever solving them. If we believe that teaching and learning is a craft to be honed, the skills require consistent and well understood definitions. Sometimes it feels as if we are chefs and each of us has a different definition of how to Chiffonade with our knives. It is little wonder when our dishes come out different.

I was in a meeting yesterday talking with an RTI expert that was mostly exploratory in nature.  We didn’t have a concrete outcome for how both sides would support each other, but we were getting there. And then it happened. Something that almost never happens in meetings of this nature, much less in education conversations in general.

Adena Miller, from the office of Teaching and Learning, defined her terms clearly and unambiguously. It was as if our entire conversation suddenly came into sync and we were able to look at the problem with the same eyes. She handed me a definition of RTI that didn’t use a loose metaphor of a triangle for supporting children. It didn’t speak about all of the different ways in which we can blur the lines of IEP, ILP, 504 and other “plans” we can use with children. It made clear and strong knife cuts, showing what was at the core.

It wasn’t that the definition was something overly unique, but rather that it existed. It wasn’t that it just gave a single statement that gave meaning to the initialism of RTI, but rather it spoke to what RTI was and was not. RTI is “NOT an Accommodation or Consequence.” RTI is “supplemental instruction that narrow the focus to address specific skill deficits.” Adena was quick to point out that this definition was not hers alone, but was based upon the work of The Standards-Based Teaching & Learning Guide. To me, this shows that our definition of terms can come from research and still be coherent. They can be descriptive and not be destructive to change.

It was this clarity that most of our conversations both lack, and are desperate for. In defining our terms, we can move forward from the alphabet soup of acronyms and initialisms, the inside jokes of our educational conversations. But, how often do we stop a meeting or a conversation and define just what it is that we are talking about? How often do we make a space for understanding of expectations and bias? In my experience, not often enough.

And that is what made this meeting so special. It is what makes this work so important. It is what makes me think of what is possible when we are all using the same language.

The origin story is essential. It both defines us and sets our biases. And, the more that we understand our origins, the more we can move on from what made us to what we can make together.

I am impressed whenever I see a well articulated origin story. One that knows its own power and can be trusted to inform the future. One such story comes from a teacher at Bruce Randolph Middle School. Charla Agnoletti knows where she came from and what she must do because of it.

Her experience in DPS schools from the student perspective is both extensive and pretty typical. She attended Park Hill Elementary, Columbine Elementary, Hill Middle School, and East High School. It wasn’t the mere fact that she attended those places and experienced education from the inside of DPS, but what she noticed while she was there. She noticed segregated education everywhere she went, and she resolved early on to do something about it.

As someone who was heavily “tracked” into G/T and Honors classes, she saw the reverse side of that coin. She knew that the only way to shift those lowered expectations was to work for social justice. And in becoming a teacher, she has found her voice for change. It is this voice, the act of speaking out loud about things she cares about, that let me hear her story. It allowed me to see how her own personal history affects her current work with 7th grade Language Arts students.

Her voice and her story lives in her reflective blog.

She also made a beautiful video of her origin story to demonstrate the power it has on her work and why she is so passionate about changing DPS school culture, bending it toward equality.

It makes me think that more of us should wear our origin stories on our sleeve like this or make our own videos about why we do the things we do. For me, the power of a compelling story trumps all of the rhetoric for what we “should be doing.” Perhaps if our origin stories knew each other, and our voices for change spoke together, we would start to tell a new story: The origins of equity in DPS.

All of this is to say, my origin story is forthcoming. I hope yours is too.

Choice is the true trump card that parents have to play in educating their children. Many parents agonize over their school choices and advocate for specific options to become their chosen reality. There is passion behind these choices and fervor in their rhetoric. But, vocal support of choice doesn’t look like just one thing. It isn’t just a rabid interest in charter schools or an emphasis on “Reform.”

To one DPS parent, Leigh LaFon, choice “requires community devotion to Education.” As an advocate for Public Montessori schools, Leigh goes out of her way to debunk the myth that there is only a right of center perspective on choice. And she does so publicly by drawing upon Denver’s long history of choice.

She references Dr. Martha Urioste as a “personal heroic figure” for establishing Denver’s first Public Montessori in the early 1990s. But for Leigh, the connection to DPS and school choice is much more personal than that. Her daughter is a graduate of Denver School of The Arts and it is clear that her education experience was a powerful and positive force in both of their lives.

So, why does this perspective matter?

It matters because those who want to create “community devotion to education” are concerned with more than just one school. They are concerned with more than just one choice. They are working toward a future of learning that includes all of us. When Leigh LaFon says that she sees “pockets [with] huge potential,” she wants to be a part making sure it comes to fruition.

And this is the other side of the conversation, the stakeholder that is rarely at the table when decisions are made. If parents truly have choice in where to send their children to school, then their voices should factor in when the schools are designed or guiding pedagogy established. The passion for education among parents who advocate for a supportive community is only matched by the passion of the educators within DPS. But we don’t use this ‘other half’ of passion. We don’t (typically) engage in the conversations that are taking place daily about choice.

But, it isn’t hard. All it took was for me to ask one question: “@DenverElle I’d love to hear more about your experience with non-charter innovation in DPS.”

It was the asking that mattered, the engagement that allowed for the conversation to take place. I want this community to exist and so does she. We owe it to the district to ask and to answer, to engage and to collaborate. DPS will grow stronger or weaker based upon these kinds of “choices”.