Sense of Purpose — i.e. relationships

A matter of harmony

Not long ago I came across Third World, a Jamaican group that made a cover of Sense of Purpose a while back. The fascinating thing about their version of The O'Jays' song is how they improved on the original. They call themselves a fusion band because of how they draw from reggae, funk, soul, disco, and pop to create something entirely new. That is the true definition of fusion in music. And, perhaps, in teaching.

(Cochran, n.d.).
As teachers, we often need to fuse. Or at least to coexist and collaborate. Unsurprisingly, our relationships aren't always jolly like Third World's music. The sheer size of our communities makes them far more complex: we almost never choose the people who teach alongside us or manage our work and, as a rule, we do not choose our students either. We have minimal input on how institutions are run or policies made, and often collaboration is expected but not delineated. 

Researchers like A. Hargreaves (1991) have noted a need for collegiality in the pursuit of effective teaching and the fostering of learning communities. This is because of the vast evidence pointing to how collaboration is crucial for building "professional growth and internally generated school improvement" (p. 1480). But he also warns against the pitfalls of externally imposed changes which tend to disempower teachers and students to make relevant decisions about school life, something he calls contrived collegiality. (p. 1483). The mistake is to assume that collegial work will necessarily result in close, productive relationships. A culture of real collaboration must be fostered through purposeful strategies over considerable time. 

Having practiced in different countries, educational systems, and schools, I've experienced both the autocratic and the permissive styles of collegiality. I've benefited from a great deal of independence and also interdependence and can say that I unequivocally prefer the second, provided I can also have the first.


My first year teaching was no picnic

But my first year at Pak was even harder. And this was despite being experienced and knowing myself lucky: I had found a job a stone-throw away from home. Kids were polite. All people were polite. We had less periods, longer breaks and more holidays; and being a one-teacher Department implied that I could run the show however I liked.

Still, a month in and I felt like I could barely cope.

I cannot imagine how I would have survived if not for my buddy: Ms M, the new teacher of Chinese. She soon became the source of all knowledge, my creative partner, my best friend. To date, she remains all three. She was keen to help when I couldn't figure out Kamar, the Watson, Core meetings, Lines, Sets, House Assemblies, and why people kept saying, "check with the Dean." (I hadn't imagined that a school could have a dozen Deans that popped up unexpectedly in all manner of conversations.) 

It was the one hundred small differences that made the change so overwhelming and frightening, not the teaching itself. Not the environment itself.

I readily leaned on her because I knew that relationships plus time would make things right. So did my HOF, who made sure I had a buddy and insisted that she found it confusing still. And so did the other teachers who regularly offered their time, their anecdotes, and their kind words. Being an introvert, I tend to stay in my room with my thoughts but their constant show of support made a difference. And it is this school's determination to make relationships the core of the ethos that makes it outstanding too. 

Times, they are a-changin’

After a much easier second year, 2020 came along and threw a spanner in the works. Having to migrate online so abruptly has been a schooling in itself for teachers everywhere. And has made it even more obvious that the landscape of education is changing — and not just for the season. Adjusting to a new medium for delivery can be challenging but fostering relationships online is harder still, and also more important.

Looking back, I live for the relationships I've forged through teaching. The ones I developed with colleagues, staff, and students over the last twenty-odd years are often the reason I get up in the morning. They serve as an antidote to sadness or anxiety and propel every creative endeavour, but one has to "learn" to work with others — and for them too. This is particularly true of the partnership we establish with our learners.

As it happens outside the classroom, associations with students are often expressed and experienced as relationships of power; particularly where learning environments are strongly hierarchical or conservative in their underpinning philosophy. (Hargreaves, 1991). But, is that how it should be?

And, if there need be a chain of command within the class, where should I actually stand?

When you know, you know

If anything I've realised this year, it is that I could do more to nourish meaningful relationships.

Despite what I stated before and the fact that schools have been the seeding ground for most significant relationships in my life, I know myself to be naturally reserved. I am friendly — loving, even — with my young students and with colleagues. I am encouraging, empathetic and forgiving, but I have never prioritised relationship building as part of my practice. I put this down to my personal struggles as a shy child living in an adult body, which has required a great deal of strategizing over the years just to cope with everyday life. Even if I seem like a people person while I'm out in the world, I know that opening up does not come naturally to me. I am very reserved even with my family despite how profoundly I love them. 


Mā te kimi ka kite, Mā te kite ka mōhio, Mā te mōhio ka mārama Seek and discover. Discover and know. Know and become enlightened.


With the first lockdown, this shortcoming became evident. Having to call or even zoom with students was painful. It made me very anxious. I felt as awkward as my thirteen year-old students probably did. As I once did at their age. I made the necessary phone calls (that I had to script beforehand) and found ways around just to feel safe. But my students needed more from me and I knew it. They needed to hear my voice (to practice pronunciation if nothing else!), and to receive my feedback face to face, and to know that I was there for them from my actions. 

They needed me as much, or even more, than I have needed others to face the hundred differences that make “new normals” so frightening.

Monkey see, monkey do 

Since then, I have been increasingly paying attention to this dimension of my practice, starting with having a closer look at what other teachers do. With the second lockdown, opportunity knocked on my door again to try new things. This time around I relied a lot more on Flipgrid and Loom to provide asynchronous feedback, comments, suggestions, and praise. I used Gimkit (with Zoom integration) for gamification. I used Google Classroom “Ask a question” to survey their engagement and understanding of the task. 

Slowly, it began to feel like we were a class again, albeit it not quite the same class (one can hardly keep up with every student when they are on a unique learning trajectory). Still, we were somewhat connected to one another and that felt like a truly precious thing. It made me think of how many students across the country (or the world) would fall through the cracks of systems lacking that sort of glue. It stressed the need to intentionally creating moments of connection. 

And that is the bottom line: as we adapt to changes and new environments, relationships will need to be redefined too. Even without quarantines in place, the slow migration online reveals the impossibility to replicate the spaces and routines of real life school. Meaning that all available class time should be exploited to strengthen the bonds we can later use as springboards when shifting our focus from "remote teaching" to "remote learning." How else can belonging and cohesion be fostered and guaranteed for every learner otherwise? (Sewell, 2019)

Reimagining school in this way, could give rise to more equitable, blended communities that are also culturally responsive. In drawing, for instance, from wisdom present in Maori culture they might create innovative spaces where symbiotic relationships hold the learning together; where ako runs deep and is the primary ethos. (Saunders, 2018). And framing education within the larger human experience would foster wellbeing and diversity. 

Scary as it is sometimes, I find it also promising and encouraging. I look forward to seeing the effect of sustained conversations in my Spanish student’s engagement over time. Partially because it implies that students will be afforded the chance but also the responsibility to step up. They will need to take ownerships of their learning and revise how they relate to others and to authority. They will have to become our and each other's partners. And they might need to become more independent, resilient, and curious as well. 

And isn't that we have been hoping for?

Takeaways:

  • Harmonic environments make all contributions visible so they may add up to create a unique learning approach.
  • A culture of collegiality and collaboration needs clarity of purpose and time to come to fruition.
  • In learning communities, relationships can become an asset and also a propeller for change.
  • Modern environments will need to redefine relationships to provide successful models for future learning.
  • Models with strong relational ethos are empowering and transformative for everyone involved.

 

References:


Cochran, J. (n.d.). Giving Tuesday [Illustration]. Https://Eben.Com/New-York-Times-Giving-Tuesday. 

Hargreaves, A. (1991). Contrived Collegiality: The Micropolitics of Teacher Collaboration. In S. J Ball (Ed.), (2017), Sociology of Education II: Major Themes: Vol. III, (pp. 1480–1503). Routledge. Shortened URL

Martin, J. (2009). Relationships of power: exploring teachers' emotions as experienced in interactions with their peers. (Doctoral Dissertation). Retrieved from Shortened URL

Saunders, K., Averill, R., & McRae, H. (2018). “I can’t wait to get to maths”: Ako in mathematics teaching and learning. Set: Research Information for Teachers, 1, 11-18. https://doi.org/10.18296/set.0097

Sewell, A; Smith, J; & Kennedy, M.(2019). A community of learners: Creating a culture of learning together. In M. Hill & M. Thrupp (Eds.) The professional practice of teaching (6th Ed.). Cengage.

Thompson, Christy L., (2016) Collaborative Work Environments: Development and Sustainability. Electronic Thesis and Dissertation Repository. 4290 Retrieved from https://ir.lib.uwo.ca/etd/4290

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