Learning from Parents

Ayers writes, “Parents are too often made to feel unwelcome in schools and we too often dismiss their insights as subjective and overly involved.  In fact, the insights of parents—urgent, invested, passionate, immediate—are exactly what we need” (52).  It is very true that we as educators can be very dismissive of parents.  At my preschool, we often complain about the interference of parents and especially of the overbearing ones who check in on the camera several times a day and call to give the teachers directions for their child.  It seems like the parents either care too much or don’t care enough.  I easily got caught up in the negative discourse the teachers and administrators had about parental involvement.  Oftentimes, I don’t think we even realize that we are being negative, feeling instead justified in our defense.  However, now that I can take a step back and look at the situation through Ayers’ lens, I can better evaluate the situation. 

In one example, we have a student who is very stubborn and will refuse to follow classroom rules if they don’t suit his needs or desires.  His communication skills are limited and once he starts getting upset, his stress level prevents him from hearing even the simplest instruction.  His mother seems very blasé about his behavior and focuses most of her concern on his eating habits.  She packs an enormous amount of food every day for him, all without an icepack to keep the food fresh.  She complains about our snacks being too salty or loaded with carbs while she packs him beef jerky, pizzas, crackers, and muffins (all in one lunch by the way).  She complains that he didn’t eat his proteins (cold pizza or pepperoni sandwiches), though he ate the two baggies full of fruits and veggies, 3 oranges, and tub of yogurt that she packed for him.  Her odd obsession over his eating habit made it easy for us to dismiss her as a reliable source of helpful information about her son. 

Since reading this chapter of the Ayers’ book, I decided to take more notice of how she interacts with him.  I noticed that when she comes to pick him up, he gives her the same “no!” he gives us.  However, instead of insisting on him putting his toys away and getting ready to go home, she distracts him by tickling him and holding him upside down while he picks up his toys.  Before, I might have dismissed this simple ritual as more coddling and giving in to his self-indulgent behavior.  Now I decided to look at this as a really useful way to communicate with and engage this particular student.  I wasn’t planning on tickling him and holding him upside down, but I took his laughter as a cue that humor was the way into his heart and mind. 

Today he wanted to run around and scream instead of getting his coat and shoes on for recess like the rest of the kids.  So instead of picking him up, kicking and screaming, and carrying him outside, I held out his shoes and gave him an option.  I said, “Would you like your purple shoes or your pink boots?”  He said, “No, black and red shoes, black boots!”  I said, “No, these are purple shoes and pink boots!”  He said, “No, yellow boots, green shoes!” “Ok,” I said, “which ones do you want to wear?”  He said both, so I gave him one shoe and one boot.  Then he put on his coat and lined up with the other children. 

Things don’t always go this smoothly with this child.  Sometimes I don’t have the time or the chance to play out these humorous dialogues with him.  Sometimes, nothing works.  But I feel like I understand him a little better and that our relationship is more grounded.  I have his mother to thank for unwittingly offering me this insight.