The parent-teacher alliance

My child and I hold hands on the way to school,

And when I leave him at the first-grade door

He cries a little but is brave; he does

Let go. My selfish tears remind me how

I cried before that door a life ago.

I may have had a hard time letting go…

…My child has disappeared

Behind the schoolroom door. And should I live

To see his coming forth, a life away,

I know my hope, but do not know its form

Nor hope to know it. May the fathers he finds

Among his teachers have a care of him

More than his father could. How that will look

I do not know, I do not need to know.

Even our tears belong to ritual.

But may great kindness come of it in the end.

— excerpt from the poem “September, First Day of School” by Howard Nemerov

As this poem highlights, as a parent, a high level of faith and trust must often be placed in the hands of your child’s school and teachers.  And, as a teacher, an enormous sense of responsibility is felt by wanting to meet the diverse needs of the group of young people who walk through your classroom doors each morning.  The intensity of these hopes—from parents and from teachers—to do well by each child and student makes the relationship between these adults one that can be just as ripe for conflict as it is for partnership.

I’ve been reminded of the complexity of the parent-teacher relationship while re-reading portions of the book The Essential Conversation: What Parents and Teachers Can Learn from Each Other by Sara Lawrence-Lightfoot.  In the book, Lawrence-Lightfoot explores the good and the bad that can emerge from the thousands of parent-teacher interactions that take place in schools every year, the reasons behind these emotions, and ways in which parents and teachers can navigate these emotions to form a productive alliance for students.

For any number of reasons, individual communication between a parent and a teacher (and vice versa) usually is triggered by some sort of problem.  Misbehavior in class.  An assignment that seems unclear.  A story about school told by a student at home that raises eyebrows.  In this mode of communication, even the best of us can become defensive.  And so, as a school and as parents, we need to both learn how to communicate about problems in ways that seek to understand and solve (rather than look for blame) and also to find occasions to reach out to one another and celebrate successes (rather than waiting until an “issue” arises).  By enriching our interactions beyond simply those times when it seems necessary, we move closer to establishing a working relationship that rises above emotions to what is best for a student.

In a similar vein, as a school, we must offer opportunities for communication and interactions that can complement the more formal means—emails, blogs, conferences.  In these informal conversations, again, greater opportunity exists to build an ongoing partnership.  To do this means shifting priorities so that teachers have the time and space to make these moments possible without sacrificing the many other commitments they have.  As Lawrence-Lightfoot says, “This stance of alliance rather than competition, of bridge building rather than boundary drawing, must not be seen as a distraction from teaching and learning—the central agenda of the school—rather, it must be seen as a necessary dimension of building successful relationships with children that will ultimately support their academic success.”  As a school gets larger, class sizes get bigger, and the communication demands increase, this certainly becomes harder to do, so we must do all we can to make meaningful contacts with parents possible, even if it means giving up time for some other areas.

To a certain extent, the work of a school is one of customer service, with students and parents as the customers we aim to serve.  However, this view doesn’t mean following some sort of “the customer is always right” mantra and politely nodding even when we disagree as you might in a retail store in order to complete a sale.  As an educator, there are ways to clearly yet respectfully provide a different perspective to a parent, especially during those times when a parent’s interest in his or her child do not take into account the needs of the whole class of which the teacher is aware.  Being “customer service-oriented” also doesn’t mean everything about what happens in a school is open for discussion.  For instance, decisions about pedagogy, curriculum, the operational procedures of the school—these are areas that must be the purview of trained and experienced educators because of the professional judgment and expertise required.  In fact, we do our “customers” a disservice by not being clear where these lines are drawn and creating confusion and uncertainty.

At ANCS, I believe there is much to lift up as evidence of the power of collaboration between teachers and parents—the school itself would not exist if not for it.  And I also know, as a school, we have room to improve in creating a stronger alliance with parents, by building skills in teachers and parents to effectively communicate and collaborate, developing different practices to allow that communication and collaboration to take place, being clear about where parent input is needed and where it is not, and by approaching our work together in a spirit of understanding even when it might be fraught with emotion.  Near the end of The Essential Conversation, Lawrence-Lightfoot writes “productive dialogue requires that both teachers and parents…see the necessary and crucial claims of each other’s position.  Each must respect and value what the other knows and sees; each must attend carefully and listen deeply to the perspective and wisdom that the other brings.”  This empathy and partnership between parents and teachers can help lessen the feeling of a parent that “my child has disappeared behind the schoolroom door” while still giving teachers room to carry out the skillful work they do each day with all of their students.