Eight months. That’s how long I went without writing. I lost all confidence after joining some teacher “collaboratives” that purported to empower teacher-writers. Instead, I found my voice silenced by a subtle and patronizing attempt to co-opt authentic teacher voice as a tool to promote the corporate education policy agenda.
I joined these collaboratives because of my understanding of the word “collaborate”. Collaboration suggests to me mutual support and growth, like I experienced in the teacher blogging community when I was writing in the UK. Teacher bloggers there have formed collective blogs like The Education Echo Chamber, and use dedicated education forums like staffrm.io to post ideas and extend their dialog through long streams of comments and responses. Then, they share and discuss each other’s blogs on Twitter, engaging in honest, funny, and often rancorous debates about education issues.
The edublogging community has influenced UK education policy, and even been accused of exerting too much influence on the political process. I think they were able to do this because their community was formed by teachers without the “support” of corporate donors and foundations.
Here’s my story of what can happen when teacher voice is being “elevated” by a corporate sponsored entity, with a surprise twist ending that contradicts everything I’ve said so far:
One such collaborative asked me to share a draft post with one of their mentors, so that she could give me feedback. I was dubious, since mentorship does not fit my definition of collaboration, but I was compliant, as a good teacher should be. I shared a draft of a piece I’d written that detailed how I had been passed over for a SCORE teacher fellowship in favor of candidates with less experience, and included my overly-honest and not-in-line-with-the-corporate-agenda answers to the highly leading questions on the SCORE application.
One of the collaborators, whose role was to elevate my voice, suggested: “Consider writing full posts like this and sharing them with a trusted colleague or friend (or one of us at NBC). Then, consider revising the post to make your points without being accusatory.”
Sorry, but censorship is not part of my definition of collaboration, either.
Another advised: “Since your expertise is with special education and advocacy, we’re guessing you would have stronger pieces if you stick to topics on which you are clearly an expert and remind yourself of the purpose of every post.” and “Additionally, if you decide to provide solutions, think about extremely realistic and reasonable suggestions that any reader could walk away and take action on. This is how we will bring change to the issues in education that we value the most.”
In case you didn’t catch the meaning, here’s my translation: “You are just a teacher. Your decades of experience in your field give you no authority to comment on larger issues of education policy and reform. Leave that to the big boys, like Bill Gates and John King. Stick to the minutiae of your daily teaching activities. Your readers should only be teachers, who should be realistic about their limited ability to affect change, who should only be interested in small, reasonable changes within their capacity.”
The mentors then stopped replying to my follow-up questions. Put squarely in my place, I quietly retreated to my classroom for the next eight months.
Remember that I promised a surprise twist ending: Recently, I took those same SCORE application responses and reworked them for a teacher voice fellowship with America Achieves, expecting the same results I had from SCORE, especially since, while I have never (until now) publicly criticized SCORE, I have included criticisms of America Achieves in my past articles and blogs. To my surprise, I was accepted into their statewide fellowship, and attended a supportive and informative convening to learn how to more effectively advocate and elevate my voice. The America Achieves organizers were shockingly open to diverse opinions, and I have to give them some credit for helping me to recover my voice.
So, I guess the “extremely realistic and reasonable suggestions that any reader could walk away and take action on” are:
1. Stay true – there are some entities that now seem to be receptive to authentic teacher advocacy, and I suspect it’s happening because others didn’t succumb to the self-doubt I did. Teachers who have elevated their own voices and refused to parrot the talking points of the reform machine have not let up, and the message is finally getting through: We don’t need anyone to tell us what’s wrong with current education or how to change it. We just need some of those wealthy and powerful non-educators to quit undermining our voices.
2. Be wary – doublespeak abounds in the education policy world and it’s easy to fall victim to false teacher elevation claims. Despite my recent positive experience, I wouldn’t have lost my voice in the first place had I been more wary early on.
and, above all:
3. Collaborate – no sponsors needed. Let’s create our own forums and meet-ups to elevate our voices and share our expertise without corporate sponsorship or guidance. I welcome honest and open comments here, especially if you’ve had experiences with sponsored teacher elevation groups that have been different from mine.
I’d like to hear your voice.