When We Say a Student Can’t Learn

Via Saved by the Bell Hooks (the site might be the best thing ever)

Teaching is a profession that can be both extraordinarily rewarding and extraordinarily frustrating–sometimes simultaneously. Sometimes we’re tempted to throw our hands up in the air and proclaim that this student just can’t learn. And sometimes we do.

And when we as educators say that a student can’t learn, we’re saying a lot of other things, even if they’re not things we really mean or believe. It’s such a tiny statement–a throwaway line when we’re frustrated–and, yet, it has a million connotative meanings that don’t even occur to us as the words escape our lips.

When we say a student can’t learn, we’re saying that we’ve given up on her.

When we say a student can’t learn, we’re saying that his needs as a learner are not a priority.

When we say a student can’t learn, we might mean we don’t know how to teach her, but we’re saying that she needs to shape up and get with the program.

When we say a student can’t learn, we’re saying that we’ve tried all the tricks in our toolbox and are afraid to ask for help. Someone might judge us, might say we’re a bad teacher, might tell us that if we were more competent, built better relationships, went to this PD, we’d be fine. Look at the teacher down the hall. She’s fine.

When we say a student can’t learn, we’re saying “I’m not a bad teacher. I’m doing everything I know how.”

When we say a student can’t learn, we’re saying that we’re scared.

When we say a student can’t learn, we’re saying “I don’t know how to help this kid and the 24 others in my class.”

When we say a student can’t learn, we’re saying we don’t care about her.

When we say a student can’t learn, we’re saying that we are tired.

When we say a student can’t learn, we’re saying he’s not my problem.

When we say a student can’t learn instead of “I don’t know what to do, and…”, “I’ve tried everything I know how, but…” or “I don’t know how to teach her, so…” we’re saying that it’s easier to put the responsibility for making sure everyone learns on the student rather than on ourselves.

When we say those words, we’re saying so many things. Deciding what we really mean and taking action will determine how successful we are in teaching that student.

When we hear someone else say those words, we need to take a step back and withhold judgement and offer our support as colleagues to help turn the discussion toward something proactive and helpful. In order to try to build a school culture where people feel safe saying “I don’t know what to do” and asking for help, we need to offer that help and support freely and without judgement. We can’t look at our colleagues and say “This teacher can’t learn,” either.

The Power of Our Words

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how we, as teachers, talk about students amongst ourselves. Quick conversations in the hall, longer ones in the staff room or in a classroom. In full-fledged meetings with our colleagues. The more I think about it, the stronger my feeling that not only does what we say matter, but how we say it matters even more.

The words we use have power. They can color the perception that we, or others we are talking to, have about the student.

And, in the moment we’re having a conversation, we have a choice. And it’s a choice we need to make every time we have a conversation about a student.

We can refer to a student who just plagiarized an assignment as “slick” and ask for him to have 1:1 supervision during the next assessment.

Or we can say we’re worried that a 6th grader felt the need to cheat and ask what’s going on with him. We can ask our colleagues. And we can ask the student.

We can label a student as lazy.

Or we can ask why she’s choosing to do the minimum work required. Are her skills low? Does the assignment not interest her? Is she afraid of failing or putting herself out there?

We can call a student emotional.

Or we can remember that the student is 12, and the mess of hormones that flow through a 12 year old’s body and all the changes those hormones cause makes it hard to regulate emotions. Then we can look for ways to embed social-emotional learning into our curriculum.

We can call a student a know-it-all.

Or we can talk to colleagues about ways to channel that student’s enthusiasm into something that will give them more positive responses from teachers and peers and help make the student a part of the classroom community.

All of that said, I’m by no means innocent of this. We all get frustrated and we’ve probably all at one point or another labeled a student in a way we wish we hadn’t. We’ve complained about a student’s behaviors and attitudes, rather than looking for the best way to help him or her. As teachers, we need to make an effort to shift our mindsets from deficit-focused to solutions-focused. And for those of us who are actively working on that, we need the courage and the grace to offer other perspectives when our colleagues talk about students in ways that may make if difficult to find a way for that student to be successful.

How do you talk to teachers who may be discussing students in ways that you’re uncomfortable with?