“Findings from many studies suggest that participation in a professional community with one’s colleagues is an integral part of professional learning that impacts positively on students” (Timperley, 2008, p. 19)
“Well-implemented professional learning communities are a powerful means of seamlessly blending teaching and professional learning in ways that produce complex, intelligent behavior in all teachers” (Sparks, 2005, p. 156).
Professional learning communities provide opportunities for professional staff to look deeply into the teaching and learning process and to learn how to become more effective in their work with students” (Morrissey, 2000).
We know the research. We know that working together has so many benefits for us, for our lessons, for our sanity, but ultimately for our students. Why is it so hard? What makes fruitful, purposeful collaboration so difficult?
Some might argue, “Well, we don’t have enough time.” Or, “We don’t really know what our mission is or why we’re meeting.” Or some (ahem...perhaps myself included) might even say, “I just prefer to work alone. I can accomplish by myself in 10 minutes what we could accomplish together in 45.” In any given situation, some of this may actually be true, but may I throw out there that our ability to be vulnerable is what allows us to collaborate successfully.
This summer I spent time reading the book Daring Greatly by Brene Brown. She uses a portion of FDR’s “Citizenship in a Republic” speech as a springboard to say that we could sit outside of the arena and watch OR we could jump into the arena. We could get messy. We could fail. We could get hurt. We could experience life to the absolute fullest by being willing to be vulnerable, because being vulnerable allows us to grow and become all that we were meant to be. She calls this “whole-hearted” living.
For us as educators our “arena” could be our classroom, our PLC, our hallway, our leadership position within the building, or all of the above. In any of these arenas, we (individually and as a collective whole) will only get better by being vulnerable. Brown states, “Vulnerability is not weakness, and the uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure we face every day are not optional. Our only choice is a question of engagement. Our willingness to own and engage with our vulnerability determines the depth of our courage and the clarity of our purpose; the level to which we protect ourselves from being vulnerable is a measure of our fear and disconnection.”
Stepping into the arena is scary. We risk feeling judged, embarrassed, or unworthy when we ask for help, admit to failure, share an idea, respectfully disagree, rely on someone else to carry a part of the load or provide an idea, call a colleague or friend who is going through something tough, stop in to say “hi” to a new colleague. Brown says, “Experiencing vulnerability isn’t a choice--the only choice we have is how we’re going to respond when we are confronted with uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure.”
Vulnerability is the birthplace of creativity and innovation. As educators we want our students to be creative and innovative, but we ourselves sometimes lack that ability to be vulnerable enough to be creative and innovative. In our District we have several goals that we are working toward. We’re working on the Gradual Release of Responsibility, we’re working with Mentor and Model teachers and Instructional Coaches to collectively be the best we can be for kids, we’re meeting in PLC’s to develop essential standards and common formative assessments, we’re bringing our classroom data back to a group of colleagues to say either “Yes! They got it!” or “Nope, they’re not there.” Facing these situations of vulnerability is inevitable. It’s how we choose to respond that matters, and most importantly, it matter for our students.
Well said and written!
ReplyDeleteA few reactions: I've worked with teachers in the past who love to brag and pretend they have it all figured out. They have the perfect and ultimate curriculum that needs no readjusting. They have no classroom management issues, which is something I've always felt insecure about throughout my entire career. (And ironically is something that's always noted in my evaluations as above excellent.)
I still have those "teacher nightmares" at the beginning of the school year, and I'm standing in front of a class I cannot control. This has never once occurred, but that fear is very real and inside me. Over my 13 years of teaching, I've learned I cannot control what other students do, only how I react to what they do. And to pretend you've never had a student do something, say, inappropriate or have had a group of students who, classroom chemistry-wise, are just a little "rowdier" than the average class--to pretend you never encounter that because you're an "expert teacher"---it's a big lie. And for that matter, there is no "expert teacher" even though those labels exist.
Showing our vulnerabilities is the strength that empowers us to grow. Someone once told me "you cannot grow until you feel uncomfortable". I think there's truth in that, and we have to let down our guard and be honest. If we can't do that, we get stuck--and what isn't growing is, by definition, dead.
Have you taken your pulse lately? Have you looked at your practice and evaluated what you're doing or had someone come in and watch you teach---engaged in a reflective conversation? If not---well, consider this---if there is no growth, there can only be death---and how many teachers are in the dying process? It sounds a bit extreme, I suppose, but it's nonetheless a reality teachers must face. I wouldn't even mean this for teachers. I think this could apply to people in all professions.
I agree. The power of vulnerability is what makes us better. It's the water for which we need--the required nutrients we must possess in order to arrive at the next level.
My two cents...for what it's worth. :-)