The Possibilities in Understanding

What is one of the most important life skills impacting health, relationships, and achievement? Self-regulation.

Self-regulation can be broadly defined as the ability to manage and control oneself. This relates to one’s emotions (moods and feelings) as well as one’s behaviors (actions). It is recognizing when you are experiencing stress or over excitement. It is how you use tools and strategies to adjust your moods and work through feelings. It is exhibiting appropriate behaviors in spite of what you are feeling.

As educators and/or parents, we teach self-regulation to children constantly. It’s what we are doing when we help them complete a task they don’t feel like doing but should (eg. sharing and cleaning up after themselves). It’s also what we are doing when we help children work through emotions such as sadness or frustration.

It’s important to note that research is increasingly showing the connection between a child’s self-regulation and that of their adult caretakers. Meaning, we influence a child’s self-regulation not just through our teaching, but also through our modeling and practice of self-regulation skills. At any moment, how we manage our own emotions and behaviors – that show up in the words and tone we use or through the thoughtful or impulsive decisions we make – can determine how a child responds. It is a cyclical process. So, how can we as the more social-emotionally skilled person in an interaction with a child manage our own emotions and behaviors and support him/her to a favorable outcome? Breathe.

One of my favorite TEDTalks is Breathing happiness by Emma Seppälä. In this Talk, Seppälä uses examples of work with military in combat and veterans experiencing PTSD to explain how we can manage our breathing to change our mood and gain “the presence of mind” to negotiate the most difficult and stressful situations. Seppälä describes the strategy of “square breathing” (inhaling for a count of four, holding for a count of four, exhaling for a count of four, holding for a count of four and repeating) as a way to lower the heart rate and gain composure. I have found this strategy to be a helpful tool to use with students and for myself. Note: I alter the language when working with young students to “Suck in like you are drinking a juice box; hold it. Now, blow out like birthday candles.”

Self-regulation is a skill we continue to develop throughout adulthood. Square breathing is hopefully a helpful tool you can add to your belt. I wish you a wonderful school year and happy breathing!

[Cross posted on Flourish]

In a previous post, I wrote about the Four Stages of Parent Grief and what educators should know about how parents process news of their child’s challenges.  In the following posts I will outline how educators can guide parents to understanding concerns so everyone’s focus can shift to partnering in support of student needs.

Sometimes parents are not ready to see the challenges about their child being described by teachers or administrators.  Parents may make excuses for behaviors or provide evidence that appears to conflict with the claims being presented.  This is a natural response to hearing challenging information.  The human brain is wired to protect us from harm and that means responding by fighting, fleeing, or freezing.  When teachers share concerns with parents, that information can be subconsciously interpreted as an attack.  What parents hear the teacher say is that something is wrong with their child, the one they work so hard to nurture.  If something is wrong with their child, then something is wrong with their parenting practices and/or with them as individuals.  In defense of the lovely being they are working really hard to raise and themselves, they deny what they are hearing is true.

Denial may appear as excuses or rebuttals such as… Of course my child can recognize the letters of the alphabet; we read books together at night religiously.  He most certainly can pay attention for periods of time; he plays with Legos for hours.  She could not possibly have issues with peers because everyone loves her; she is constantly being invited to playdates.  Look at this piece of writing he made this weekend.  I just sent you a video of her counting to 100.  Does that sound familiar?  Have you ever said or at least thought that as a parent?

Below are some ways I have found to think about and approach parents when concerns need to be shared.

Look for patterns; they tell a story.  There are always patterns.  There are even consistencies in the inconsistencies.  Look for patterns.

My daughter has many food and environmental allergies.  I’ve known about them since she was a baby and I took her to the doctor for insight into what could be causing a perpetually runny nose and randomly appearing hives.  It turns out grits and eggs for breakfast will do that when a person is allergic to eggs.  Oops.

We’ve collectively managed her allergies for 14 years.  She does an outstanding job with the food portion, advocating for herself and protecting herself when necessary.  The environmental allergens are trickier because they aren’t always visible, and it often takes a higher level of alertness than a child might have to prevent or identify reactions to them.  So, I’ve especially helped her manage that piece for 14 years; and, still I didn’t see the pattern that led to her most recent episode.

• Week 1:  My daughter continuously complained of stomachaches, so we went to urgent care and received a diagnosis of reflux.  Me:  Where did that come from?
• Week 2:  She came home from school early several times because of headaches, so we went to urgent care and received a diagnosis of sinus infection.  Me:  Nasty weather.
• Week 3:  She crawled into my bed and cried through the night about her ears, and head, and stomach; we went to the children’s hospital and received a diagnosis of sinus infection and double ear infection.  Me:  Things are not getting better.  I don’t know what to do. 
• Week 4:  She’s miserable.  I’m desperate.  We’re both exhausted.    Me:  No more.

Finally, I took my daughter back to the doctor who treated her when she was a baby.  The first thing she said was, “Let’s step back and look at her history.”  Those words ignited a flash of memories of tests, procedures, medicine, and conversations with doctors.  After talking through a series of questions, we connected all of it, the stomachaches, the headaches, and the earaches, to her allergies.  Of course!  While some of the symptoms presented differently than they had in the past, the timing and the triggers remained consistent.  Look for patterns.

I tell this story because even veteran educators sometimes miss the patterns.  Instead, we address the symptoms in the moment and then provide parents fractured information once  we’ve reached our breaking point, maybe after being alarmed at the results of a student assessment or exasperated by a student’s most recent behavior.  Rapid firing a list of issues to parents may seem completely justified to you as the educator because you’ve been feeling the accumulation of concern over time, but it feels threatening and disjointed to parents.  Instead, we have to communicate holistically what we are seeing so parents can see it too.

Even still, no matter how well we share concerns with parents, they may still go through a period of denial.  Regardless, it is our responsibility to guide them to acceptance more efficiently.  The best way to do that is through clear and intentional communications.  Below are some methods that have worked well for me.

Communicating Concerns to Parents

Clarity

• Step back.  List or talk out instances or examples of issues you’ve noted.  Analyze what you are seeing.  Look for a pattern or trigger.  Is it around timing?  Maybe those peer conflicts seem random but are really related to difficulty transitioning from one activity to another.  Is it related to a particular subject?  Maybe a child is becoming silly and playing with friends as a tactic to avoid writing.  This may take consulting with someone who is not as close to the daily interactions or someone who has a history with the student.  Before communicating with parents, articulate to yourself the essence of the concern and why it is concerning (how it is impacting the child or class).
• Then, if you are truly concerned, use the word concern. In a person-to-person conversation (by phone or in person), explain that you have concerns that you want to share.  I placed clarity above compassion in this list because sometimes our compassion clouds our judgement and subsequent ability to communicate concisely.  This does not mean we should be callous, but veiled comments in the hallway and coded messages in progress reports do not equate to clarity.  Only teachers know what is meant by “sometimes has difficulty with” and “developing his ability to”.

Consistency

• Be on the same page.  If you are a teaching team, you must talk to each other first (and include your administrator as necessary) to develop a common understanding of the challenge and related messaging.  Putting parents on an emotional rollercoaster of mixed messaging won’t help a child receive the support they need.
• This is not a time to bombard parents with examples.  No parent needs or truly wants a daily email detailing the inappropriate behaviors their child displayed or the tremendous difficulty they had with reading – no matter what they say they want.  Go into a conversation about concerns with a plan of action.  Set a goal that everyone can work toward and agree to check in at a specified time to discuss progress and adjustments.  This might mean a weekly email or even daily goals chart, but it should be a balanced sharing of observations and reflections.

Compassion

• This is last on the list but of paramount importance.  When parents don’t see it yet, be patient.  They need to be shown the pattern and to hear a story unfold that is told in a kind and caring way, a way that says you are not judging or forecasting certain failure.  They need to feel that you are working with them on their child’s behalf.
• One way to communicate concern and hope is through the sandwich method (aka a compliment sandwich).  Dan Pink shares research in his book, When, that says people prefer to receive bad news before good news and that “given a choice, human beings prefer endings that elevate.”  (Audible clip) Yes, and I also know that parents need to feel that the teachers caring for their child each day appreciate their strengths and efforts.  Starting with concerns feels deficit focused rather than solutions focused.  That is why I think it is important to discuss everyone’s observations of a child’s strengths, efforts, and growth (good news), then share concerns (so called bad news), and end by discussing a plan for working together to support the child because that’s our ultimate shared goal (an elevated ending).

Communicating concerns is not easy for anyone, but it is necessary in order to move learning forward.  Parents may still experience anger and sadness before getting to acceptance, but clarity, consistency, and compassion will help everyone through the process.

References:

Pink, D. H. (2018). When: The scientific secrets of perfect timing. New York, NY: Riverhead Books.

When the school’s phone number pops up on the caller ID, any parent’s initial reaction is panic.  My first-born child had probably been in childcare for less than a month when they called me to tell me there was a problem.

School administrator: “Hi, Ms. Mitchell.  Donovan has conjunctivitis.”

As a new parent, I had no idea of what conjunctivitis was but it sounded terrible. Apparently, I channel my grandmother (who was known to use a few expletives) when I am not thinking rationally and responded in a less than professional way.

Me:  “No the ___ he doesn’t.  What is that, and who are you to diagnose this?”

Fortunately, the administrator was a seasoned professional that recognized the terror in a young, new mother’s voice.  She responded with a chuckle, “It’s pink eye; he just needs to go to the doctor for eye drops.”  Feeling only slightly embarrassed and mostly sad for my sweet baby boy, I set out to pick him up to address what I learned was a common childhood illness.

The feelings that surged through me during those seconds are the feelings that parents regularly experience when educators tell them their child is having developmental challenges. They are feelings of denial, anger, sadness, and acceptance – what I call the stages of parent grief.  Often sequential, sometimes cyclical, and rarely lasting a mere few seconds, these stages are important for an educator to understand so we can appropriately manage our messaging and counsel families with compassion.

In this post, I summarize the emotions and behaviors I have observed parents experience when processing messages from the school about their child’s developmental challenges.  In subsequent posts, I will share ways I have found parents and educators can work together through the stages to support students in need.

Stages of Parent Grief

Denial – In this stage, parents are not yet ready to see the challenges being described by the teachers/administrators.  Parents may make excuses for behaviors or provide evidence that appears to conflict with the claims being presented.

 
Again, I have found that these stages are often sequential but sometimes cyclical, especially during discussion about how to address challenges.  My point in sharing these stages is that without awareness of them, educators may find themselves reacting to parent emotions rather than communicating strategically to support families.  Most importantly, it is a reminder that in spite of emotions, educators and parents are on the same team and share goals of good health, happiness, and achievement for students.

Stay tuned for subsequent posts on each stage of grief and how to help families move through them.

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Early childhood mathematics development is finally getting the attention it deserves.  As researchers and educators understand more about how young children learn math, schools are implementing curricula that extend far beyond the 58 seconds of rote counting that had been casually sprinkled throughout traditional preschool days.  We now know that early number sense is crucial for later, more advanced math and that developing skills such as subitizing strengthens students’ abilities to think flexibly and truly understand the concept of quantity.  As a result, math practices have become far more robust, focusing as much on the processes of student thinking as on the accuracy of the results.

One of my favorite math games for making student thinking visible and developing the mathematical practice of constructing a viable argument is called “Which one doesn’t belong?”, originally created as a children’s picture book by Christopher Danielson.  The book contains sets of pictures that prompt students to notice the properties of shapes and then provide justification for their observations about which one doesn’t belong with the others.  The best part about the activity is that there is no one “right” answer.  There are many ways that one can justify their answer, allowing students to hear different perspectives and consider new ways of thinking.  With puzzles that extend far beyond shapes, the activity has become wildly popular.  People across academic disciplines regularly share new ideas and thinking on social media through #WODB.  It is amazing to see just how creative people are in compiling a group for comparison, and equally remarkable to witness how children of all ages can identify patterns and present arguments utilizing precise vocabulary.

I love what this activity does to develop critical thinking and communication skills.  So, I struggle with the lingering feeling of unease that I have maintained since the very first time I watched a teacher facilitate the activity with a group of young students.  It’s the language.  “Which one doesn’t belong?” is difficult to accept when looking out at a classroom full of children that are moment-by-moment authoring their identities with the language we use.  My unease became further strengthened as I witnessed a group of Pre-K students looking at a “Which one doesn’t belong” poster, and I found myself sympathizing with the one African American child in the group listening to someone say “the black one doesn’t belong because it isn’t white”.

While the shapes presented for comparison in this activity are not people, the process of identifying what is the same and different transfers easily in young minds that are building background knowledge and shaping ideas about how the world works.  As a natural process for keeping up with the abundance of information we face every day, our brains rely on what we’ve experienced or what we have come to believe is true to make decisions about new situations.  Also, natural is the desire to associate with people like us.  So with that in mind I wonder, are we inadvertently promoting the identification of and, more disturbingly, exclusion of things that are different by asking for what doesn’t “belong”?

I’ve been thinking about what else we could ask students that would still promote critical thinking, pattern recognition, and communication skills.  If we asked, “What can you find that is the same?”, students would be able to acknowledge at least one basic way that all four pictures are related before beginning to focus on their differences.  They are all shapes.  Or we might ask, “Which one is different?”, because it gives us the opportunity to talk about how everyone is different, and different is not bad.  Neither of these questions is quite as succinct as “Which one doesn’t belong?”, but I’d like us to consider them and others anyway.

As educators, we work carefully to integrate academic and social-emotional learning, because research shows that they cannot be separated.  In order to learn, students must feel safe and connected to their learning community.  Knowing that words matter in how we shape identity and view others, educators must be mindful of the questions they ask and the responses they might elicit.  So, how can we adjust this activity to be sensitive to the girl, the student of color, the non-athletic boy, or __________, who will hear a description of themselves when the class is asked to describe which one doesn’t belong?

This post is not a critique of any individual, idea, or practice.  It is an attempt to build awareness and prompt discussion about how we can intentionally use language to develop flexible math thinking and relational thinking.  I realize that after reading this, some people will naturally want to step back from the “Which one doesn’t belong?” activity out of fear or discomfort.  Please don’t.  Lean into that discomfort and be brave.  This is what being a reflective practitioner is all about.

I have very few memories of showing anyone my report card during my school years. No one checked that I did my homework or studied for a test. It wasn’t due to a lack of interest in my academic success. My family understood the importance of a quality education, and we lived in a neighborhood that provided the best public education available in the city. Grades in school were simply not their measure of success.

I do remember many talks with my family about making good choices – choices about who I considered a friend (because the answer to their question of “Who are their people?” when I mentioned a new name provided my family with all they needed to know about this person; choices in how I presented myself to others (because respect and decency came before anything else); and choices about what I did with my time (I still hear my grandmother saying “Make sure you do something with yourself.”). It was always clear to me that people make choices in life, and I was called to reflect on mine regularly.

My family collectively worked to provide me with opportunities, modeled and explicitly taught what they believed were core character traits and habits of mind, and they regularly expressed their faith in me to be my best self. The message of faith was so prevalent that it transferred to me, and I developed faith in myself.

My family’s faith built my confidence by reminding me of the skills, abilities, and accomplishments I’d worked to attain. It caused me to set goals for myself and develop a sense of responsibility. It motivated me to work through difficulties and setbacks so I could live up to the expectations that they set for me and I adopted for myself.

As parents and educators, we work to provide children with the best learning experiences and opportunities we can provide. We strive to cultivate curious, lifelong learners and often find ourselves wondering what more we can do to prepare our children to be thoughtful, contributing members of society. This question persists in my mind as a school administrator and parent of two teenagers.

As I was thinking about my grandmother recently, I found myself wondering what would happen if we were more intentional about passing along our faith to children – to our own and other’s.  I don’t mean shallow praise or fleeting compliments but empowering messages of belief and expectation.

What if we shared our faith in them and their abilities, imploring them to believe in their own worth and beauty in spite of what others may say about them? What would come of regularly reminding children of the skills they have developed and the knowledge they have acquired, encouraging them to stand firmly on their past efforts and accomplishments? What about deliberately coaching them to look to examples of those who came before them as evidence of what is possible and as motivation to persevere when times are hard? Would it build them up inside?

Then, what if we made it clear to them that our faith is not hope alone but is coupled with expectation and a history of planning, preparation, and sacrifice? How would they feel about a warning that we’ll be trusting them to do something with themselves – something greater for all of us. What if our words and actions taught them that life is full of choices and then we gave them some to practice so they would know for themselves. Would this promote a sense of responsibility and agency?

Research on locus of control and the Adlerian theory were not on my family’s reading list. Yet the ideas of choice and autonomy promoting motivation (internal locus of control or self-determination) and the need for a sense of belonging along with contribution (Positive Discipline) resonate with me as a critical part of my childhood experience. Since these practices shaped me so strongly, I will use them more intentionally in my own parenting and teaching practices. However, please note that I will continue to check progress reports.

(cross posted at http://blogs.trinityatl.org/flourish/)

Suggested Reading:

Fostering Independence in Children

Frequently Asked Questions About Positive Discipline

Have you ever heard of a hidden or secret menu?  I had not until recently.  I didn’t know that some restaurants offer items that are not advertised and only available if you know to ask.  Isn’t that like our students?  Some of the things we need to know about them are readily observable, but other things (maybe the most important things) require more effort and deeper searching to uncover.

Top 3 Hidden Menu Items

Learning preferences

• Is it important for the student to understand the big picture, or the why, of a concept before going into the details of what and how?  Or, do they prefer to just get started and work through the details in order to see how all of the parts come together?
• Do they need individual think time? Or, do they benefit from talking out an idea with others?
• Must they have a highly organized space to work?  Or, do they thrive in dynamic workspace?

Social-emotional learning skills

• Are they able to see another perspective when confronted with potential conflict or an opposing idea?
• What role do they prefer when working in a group?  How does this impact their contribution?
• Are they comfortable asking for help with something they don’t understand?

Culture

• What are the family’s implicit and explicit expectations for learning, and what is considered “smart”?
• How does the student spend time outside of school (time is treasure)?
• How is behavior managed at home compared to what the child is experiencing at school?

Here is a challenge for you.  Try to count the number of times the people wearing white t-shirts pass the ball.  They are moving around a lot, so it’s challenging, but see how close you can get to counting the correct number of passes.

How did you do?  Were you surprised by the results?  If so, you were probably highly focused on counting.  The first time I saw this video, the meeting facilitator stopped it before revealing there was a gorilla in it.  I was distracted that day and couldn’t focus on the ball passes so I saw the gorilla, but sat in complete shock as the facilitator asked people about passes without first discussing the gorilla.  I noticed a few others with confused looks on their faces, then realized most people had not seen it.

The video wasn’t a hoax.  It turns out, our brains ignore the unexpected.  It’s called inattentional blindness or selective attention.  In an effort to efficiently process tremendous amounts of information and make decisions quickly, our brains rely on schema, stored knowledge that has been grouped and organized for understanding, to fill in blanks as we perceive information.  We filter out whatever we don’t expect based on our mind’s idea of the situation.  No one expects to see a gorilla walk through the circle, so when focused on counting, most do not see it.

Why is it important to know about inattentional blindness, especially as educators and parents?  We need to know so we can actively manage our expectations of children (abilities, worthiness, potential) and for children (belief in success and achievement).

The literature on motivation and school performance in younger school children suggests that expectations shape the learning experience very powerfully. For example, classic studies in the psychology literature have found that merely stating an expectation results in enhanced performance, that higher expectations result in higher performance, and that persons with high expectations perform at a higher level than those with low expectations, even though their measured abilities are equal.  ~ Schilling and Schilling

If a great deal of student performance is attributable to our expectations, we must be intentional in setting and stating those expectations as well as in our practices of supporting and assessing achievement.  It’s easier said than done.

1. Our brains rely on our stored collection of experiences, knowledge, and understanding to set our expectations about what should or could be.  Schema: Balls. People. Movement.  
2. Our expectations determine what we see or filter out.   I don’t expect to see a gorilla.  Ignore the gorilla.
3. Our stated beliefs (high expectations for all) may not be in line with the schema the brain uses to determine expectations (high expectations for only some students).

Unfortunately, we all have unconscious ideas in our minds about what could or should be, based on experiences and messaging, that may seriously conflict with our stated beliefs (implicit bias).  For example, most parents would say that they believe their daughters are intelligent, capable beings with the same potential to achieve as boys.  However, parents are twice as likely to Google “Is my son gifted?” than “Is my daughter gifted?” and almost twice as likely to ask “Is my daughter overweight?” than “Is my son overweight?”.

The same is true of teachers.  Most teachers firmly believe they have high expectations for all students and that they do not vary how they assess or support students based on gender. However, a recent study shows students were given a math exam in which the girls outscored the boys when scored by teachers who did not know student gender, but when graded by teachers who were familiar with their names (and gender), the boys outscored the girls.

Neither of these examples speaks to the values or character of the people involved.  In fact, it’s important to know that nice, well-intentioned people have blindspots, too.  Awareness is the first step to managing our expectations.  I plan to begin by exploring the following questions:

• What are the unconscious beliefs that inadvertently lower my expectations of and for certain students?
• How are my behaviors and practices out of line with my beliefs and intentions?
• What can I do to reshape and expand my schemas?

How do I want to be and is my behavior in line with my intentions? The reason I must be aware of implicit bias. #NAISPoCC #trinitylearns

— Rhonda Mitchell (@rgmteach) December 4, 2015

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American Friends of Tel Aviv University. (2015, February 26). Teacher prejudices put girls off math, science, study suggests. ScienceDaily.

Banaji, M., & Greenwald, A. (2013). Blindspot: Hidden biases of good people. New York: Delacorte Press.

Carpenter, S. (2001, April). Sights Unseen.  Monitor on Psychology.

Miller, R. (2001). Greater Expectations to Improve Student Learning. Association of American Colleges and Universities.

Schilling, Karen Maitland and Karl L. Schilling 1999. Increasing expectations for student effort. About Campus, 4:2.

Stephens-Davidowitz, S.(2014, January 18). Google, Tell me. Is My Son a Genius?  The New York Times.