Thursday, October 25, 2012

Parents


A number of years ago at NAIS, I paid to attend one of those pre-conference workshops.  Actually, my school paid.  Michael Thompson was the presenter and I think he is simply amazing.  I have heard him numerous times; you may have, too.  You probably know the name: he’s a guru in the independent school world and a god in the boys’ school world for his expertise as a school psychologist. 

His workshop was aimed at teachers about how best to understand and work with independent school parents, particularly around the all-important parent/teacher conference.  I assumed there was something I could extrapolate to our world and to the all-important parent/admissions meeting and relationship.  It was excellent!  23 years in education and it remains one of the best things I have ever attended.

For all of you who haven’t heard Thompson speak about this, he has now co-authored with Alison Mazzola a small book on this very topic: Understanding Independent School Parents.  It’s less than 100 pages with big font and I read it cover-to-cover in less time than it took to fly from London to Moscow.  I highly recommend it and now the entire administrative team at my school is reading it.

The book is in roughly three sections.  1. Understanding independent school parents.  2.  Working with the 95% who are sane and rational.  3.  Tips for working with the insane and irrational!  I think it behooves all of us and our offices to understand in particular who are our parents and what is their perspective.  Less helpful but still worth the read is the strategies for working with them.  Teachers simply have different relationships than we do with parents. 

So, some highlights:

Thompson reminds us that our parents make up the smallest, wealthiest, most successful people in America.  They are highly educated and one, if not both, is highly successful.  They exercise a great deal of control, are often the smartest person in the room, and others typically report to them or defer to them. 

And then they show up at our schools.  And on the topic of children, education, developmental readiness, and curriculum, they are no longer the smartest person in the room, we are in control, and they must defer to us to help them understand their child in the context of education.  This is unfamiliar territory for them, they can easily become uncomfortable, and they may struggle with news or decisions they don’t like (e.g. denied admission, doing poorly in school).

What can we do?

Thompson recommends three steps for the 95%.  1. Engage them about their child.  Ask them about their hopes and fears and then be a good listener.  If you invite them and successfully get them to speak intimately with you about their child, you will create a bond and forever alter the dynamic of your relationship with them.  2. “Claim the child.”  As we all know from the research of NAIS, a good deal of the value added independent schools provide is that each child is “known”.  Demonstrate that you have read the application and supporting documents and that to you their child is a person and you “know them” (as best you can at this point), not just another applicant or a number in your database.  3.  Be professional.  These parents are professionals and so are you so don’t let them forget it.  Just because they may make exponentially more money, doesn’t make you less a professional.  Start and end on time, be prepared, and follow up as needed.  For Lower School admissions folks or teachers, Thompson goes so far as to suggest you be sure to dress the part of a professional and not like someone who spends their day sitting on the floor leading reading circles or playing with dragons.  (Again, that was Thompson, not me!, saying that, dear Lower School admissions colleagues.)

At the end of the day, Thompson reminds us that these are parents we want: they have chosen to allocate their resources for their child’s education.  We have all worked with wealthy parents who could afford our schools but who won’t give up the shore house or the boat or the annual family ski trip to Switzerland and their kids remain in public school. 

Our parents made a different choice, a better choice.

Sunday, October 7, 2012

Diversity

Diversity.  I hate the word.  Don’t get me wrong: I’m not anti-diversity.  Just the opposite.  I proudly helped bring the Steppingstone Foundation to Philadelphia when I worked there and I think boarding schools are the best opportunity for diversity and it’s why I work in one.  I believe in the broadest sense of the word and feel it is our moral obligation to be sure it’s a cornerstone of any proper, thoughtful education.

But I hate the word diversity.  I’d like to rid it from the vernacular and require everyone to articulate exactly what they mean instead of hide behind this catchall word.  I’ve seen far too many charts and reports and accountings under the umbrella of diversity that are either insufficient or superficial.  Or both.

And what does that look like?  Well, first of all, it doesn’t look like anything.  If you think you can look through the window of a classroom door and count the number of diverse students, then you need to get your head out of the early 1990’s.  Students who appear different can be very similar and students who look similar can be very different.  It is only in opening that door and spending time in that classroom that you can truly appreciate the kaleidoscope of experience made rich by the students found therein.

You can check off the easy categories that jump to mind: race, religion, economic means, sexual orientation, and geography (by zipcode for day schools or by countries and states for boarding schools).  But what about sexual orientation of parents?  But why do we assume parents to be plural?  A student from a mother/father home brings a different perspective than a student from a father/father home or a student who was raised by only one parent or no parent at all and has been raised by another relative.  How about students whose family emigrated from another country?  Maybe their parents don’t speak English at home.  How about the white, urban kid who wakes at 6am in order to take two busses and a subway to get to school who sits next to the white, rural kid who wakes at 6am to work on the family farm before coming to school?  And there are differences in learning styles, personalities, abilities, interests, passions, etc.

The list goes on and I’m sure as you read this a category jumps to your own mind that did not cross mine.  But isn’t that the point?  Isn’t the diversity of diversity the challenge?  It requires a school and an admissions dean to determine exactly what they desire and what they value, and then what they will measure.

Students and education and all of us are made better, made stronger by finding our voice and vocabulary to share our unique perspective, and our values and faith and beliefs are made stronger when we must explain if not defend them to others.  We are made further better and stronger by an openness to “other” and not simply to hear or even appreciate but to be willing to be shaped and changed by other, such that other is now part of us.  The exchange must be two way.  In a strong school setting, each student will find their own voice so that they may share and help others learn as well as develop their capacity to change so that they my learn from and be developed by others.

As ones who have the opportunity to orchestrate the social engineering of our schools, we are obligated to do more than fill charts and check off boxes of diversity.  We are obligated to generate and perpetuate the discussion of what a 21st century school and education should reflect and to be sure we are doing so from within the classroom and not simply through the looking glass of the classroom door.