Few things will upset a teacher more than seeing a promising student deliberately fail: the bright jock who suddenly notices how too much achievement makes him stand out uncomfortably from less-capable peers; the girl who fears that being "too smart" makes it difficult for boys to like her. In many cases, patient efforts and steady resolve can coax reluctant learners back toward success.
But what does a teacher do when a primary caregiver deliberately sabotages a child's education?
"I had that happen during my very first year of teaching," says Charlie Coleman, ASCD's 2005 Outstanding Young Educator Award (OYEA) winner and the principal of Khowhemun Elementary School in Duncan, British Columbia, a school comprising approximately one-third First Nation or aboriginal (i.e., native) students. "I had a girl who was a very academically capable student, so much so that I began giving her more challenging work [in private] because she did not want to stand out from her peers." After making great strides, however, the girl suddenly stopped completing assignments.
"When I asked her what happened, she told me, ‘My auntie took away my light bulb,’" Coleman adds. "The message she got was that her family did not want her to succeed in school."
Dealing with parents whose educational experiences were unpleasant is not an unfamiliar challenge for most teachers, but the problem is often especially difficult for teachers of First Nation students because the parents and grandparents of such students often suffered abusive treatment during their own schooling. Those memories, Coleman says, contribute to a negative view of education. "Grandparents remember being taken from their homes and forced into residential schools run by the church. The goal was to rid them of their traditions and their heritage, and many of them suffered significant neglect and abuse because of it," he points out.
As a result of these experiences, many elders in First Nation (and, in the United States, American Indian) communities have a deep distrust of schools and teachers. Given the great deference afforded to elders, this presents educators with a difficult cycle to break—one made all the more difficult when one or both primary parents are absent and the student's only parental figure is an elder whose experiences were negative. "Often, the parents in our community had their children when they were very young themselves," Coleman says. "Many of them are still struggling with economic hardship and substance abuse, [so] the grandparents often step in as a support structure." As a result, negative perspectives of education are inevitably passed on to the students, making change difficult for even the most dedicated teachers.
Doing a Little Does a Lot
When asked what strategies he's found work best when addressing such challenges, Coleman is quick to say, "It's not one big thing that you do; it's all the little things you do." Like many principals, for example, he makes a concerted effort to be proactive and positive with both his students and teachers. He makes a point of being out in front of the school every morning to smile and greet every student, and his daily routine includes stopping in and visiting as many classes as he can.
But perhaps the most striking thing Coleman has done is make a prolonged and concentrated effort to reach out to the very parents and grandparents whose own experiences with schooling were so negative. Khowhemun has "Grandparents' Night," for instance, where students and elder caregivers can come to share refreshments and stories. Family movie nights are also common, as are outdoor activities like barbeques and parties. "Many of these people do not feel comfortable coming in for parent-teacher interviews," he adds. "But if their child insists that they come to a barbeque or a movie night, that's something easy and friendly," he says. The goal is to get people to come to the school and see that it is a nonthreatening place that is actually full of positive activities and interactions.
Although he admits that it takes time to see the fruits of his efforts, Coleman knows his efforts are paying off. As proof, he cites the story of the female student he "lost" many years ago. "I'm not sure, but I don't think she ever finished the 12th grade," he says. "But, 10 years later, her kids were in my school when I was a vice principal. I still saw some difficulties, but she was more supportive than her aunt was with her." He pauses. "Each generation sees some improvement; it just takes time."
