Some
difficult conversations are worth having.
When
faced with a difficult conversation, there are many reasons we may want to
avoid it: It’s uncomfortable, it could be awkward, confrontational, or contentious,
and it might harm relationships. And since relationships are at the heart of
coaching, we need to safeguard them. We have to ask ourselves, which difficult
conversations are worth having? And how
do we move forward when a difficult topic needs addressing?
For
me, conversations about equity are worth having, even when they have the potential
to be difficult. Recently, a comment that seemed to reflect a deficit mindset
toward students was made as a group of teachers wrapped up their team meeting. I
was taken aback, because I’d never before heard a whisper of such negativity at
this school, which serves predominantly Latino/a students from under-resourced
communities. When a teacher described a recent experience she’d had at a
district GT (gifted and talented) competition and said, “I’ll never see that
kind of high-level thinking at this school,” I had to catch my breath. I felt an immediate and intense need to
respond, and I recognized that how I did so was important. I became so zeroed
in on that teacher that I have no idea how the other teachers responded, but I
knew my answer would be heard by all of them, too.
When
I replied, I mentioned the research about emerging bilingual students that
suggests that, by 3rd grade, children typically are proficient in
both languages and so they have a big, flexible language resource to draw from.
“Well, I haven’t seen that,” the teacher responded. I pushed again, gently, as
the teachers packed up to head back to their classrooms. And I was left with an
empty feeling in the pit of my stomach, knowing I had not been a strong enough
advocate for students. I knew I needed to do more.
I
needed to better educate myself about these students’ assets so that I would
have a ready answer. I found an article, “The Potential and
Promise of Latino Students,” and drilled down to the section, “Primed for ‘Deeper
Learning’ and Bridge Building,” which highlights assets of first- and
second-generation immigrants. The explanation provided was helpful for me, and
I decided to share it with the teachers, too. But I was nervous about returning
to the previous conversation. I couldn’t let the teacher’s negative comment
stand, but if I was too direct, relationships might be damaged. So I stewed
about it.
I
stewed about it, and I talked with a group of trusted colleagues (at a DEI
meeting of folks with like-minded purpose). They asked questions and offered
suggestions and helped me think through the upcoming conversation from multiple
perspectives, imagining what turns the needed conversation might take. We
considered causes that might have elicited the teacher’s problematic comment
(upcoming testing, for example). They thought with me about how teachers might
reply and prepared me with appropriate responses. One of my friends suggested I
start with a fact: the number of students at the school identified for the gifted
and talented program (which was woefully low), and a question, “Why do you
think that is?” She suggested that I take some possible responses off the table
right off the bat so they didn’t get any airtime. With the article and my
colleagues’ coaching, I felt (mostly) prepared for the conversation.
The
next time we met, I asked about the GT-program numbers, I immediately said, “I
know we don’t believe for a minute that because someone has more melanin in their
skin or fewer dollars in their bank account, they have less brain cells.” The
conversation that ensued was far-reaching, including not only GT identification
and services, but also concerns about curriculum and instruction. At a comfortable
spot in the conversation, I directly addressed the teacher whose previous comments
had provoked this conversation and asked her about the district GT experiences
she’d referenced. Her answer this time revealed a deeper commitment to
enriching instruction for all students. It will take more thinking together to
get to the specifics of what that might look and sound like, but at least the
negativity wasn’t left to stand and the team seems ready for further
constructive conversation.
As
I’ve reflected on this experience, I realized several important steps that
helped me broach the difficult conversation, and I want to keep these steps in mind
in the future: · Take a deep
breath and pause to think before responding.
· Respond so
that a deficit mindset does not linger as somehow okay.
· Do some
research; find a good resource.
· Talk with
trusted colleagues.
· Rehearse the
conversation internally.
· Create a safe
space for conversation; do not point a finger of blame.
· Start with a
fact.
· Ask a question.
· State and
negate problematic assumptions.
· Listen and
support an open conversation.
· Circle back to
concerns.
· End the
conversation with action or forward momentum.
You
may not need all of the steps above when faced with a difficult conversation. I
am not an expert on coaching for equity, so I had to be introspective and seek
guidance from research and colleagues as I thought my way forward. I was so
nervous about the conversation! However,
afterward I felt gratified; destructive comments had been addressed, potential plans
were brainstormed, and relationships seemed intact – maybe even improved because
of our honest conversation.