When I was student teaching, my mentor teacher introduced me to the format she used for parent/teacher conferences. Conferences can be tricky; we want to make sure we convey as much as possible about a student, in a positive yet honest way, in a limited amount of time. We also want to make sure we factor in enough wiggle room to hear and address families' questions and concerns. My mentor teacher used the following format: Begin by sharing some of the student's strengths, then address their biggest challenges at the moment (including how we're supporting those challenges). Lastly, set some goals together with the student's family for the next part of the school year. I had the opportunity to sit in on two rounds of conferences, watching my mentor teacher use this strategy, and it seemed to work so well that I vowed to use it myself when the time came for me to organize conferences. They were balanced, relatively comprehensive, and generally productive.
So I have been using this format for the last ten years, and the conferences have gone amazingly well. But the longer I teach (and parent!), the more I run into a bit of a conundrum.
The strengths and challenges are often the very same things.
It happens time and time again. I'm effusively sharing a list of strengths when I feel the need to point out a few times that they actually became a challenge. Or vice versa - as I'm explaining a challenge, I can easily think of examples when that very same characteristic or quality worked to the student's advantage. One child may sometimes struggle to accept limits; but he also perseveres when things are challenging. Another may cry easily and need frequent teacher reassurance; but she is also beautifully empathetic and sensitive to others' feelings. I see it in my own children, too. I see it in one daughter who cares deeply about her work and holds herself to high standards, which manifests in incredibly detailed masterpieces. The flip side of that is that she often needs more time than her peers to finish her work and has a hard time managing her disappointment when she doesn't meet her own high standards. I see it in my other sweet girl who feels all emotions intensely and passionately, in ways that seem unusually profound for her age. However, that translates to expressing rage and sorrow as readily as expressing love and joy.
Isn't it true of ourselves, too? I have a top-notch work ethic, but I sometimes push myself too hard. I love learning new things, but I sometimes feel overwhelmed because I haven't filtered the constant stream of information. Maybe the truth is that we're all beautifully complex and unique individuals, with qualities that can contribute to being our best and our worst selves. Maybe it all just depends on how we channel those qualities, and how we choose to see them.
Recognizing this dichotomy has helped me a lot as a teacher and a parent. When I'm feeling frustrated with a particular behavior, I take a breath and ask myself, "How could this actually serve the child? How can I help them channel this into something that will make the child feel better about themselves, instead of worse? How can I provide the conditions to turn this into a strength, rather than a challenge?"
So often, it all starts with how I choose to see it.
So I have been using this format for the last ten years, and the conferences have gone amazingly well. But the longer I teach (and parent!), the more I run into a bit of a conundrum.
The strengths and challenges are often the very same things.
It happens time and time again. I'm effusively sharing a list of strengths when I feel the need to point out a few times that they actually became a challenge. Or vice versa - as I'm explaining a challenge, I can easily think of examples when that very same characteristic or quality worked to the student's advantage. One child may sometimes struggle to accept limits; but he also perseveres when things are challenging. Another may cry easily and need frequent teacher reassurance; but she is also beautifully empathetic and sensitive to others' feelings. I see it in my own children, too. I see it in one daughter who cares deeply about her work and holds herself to high standards, which manifests in incredibly detailed masterpieces. The flip side of that is that she often needs more time than her peers to finish her work and has a hard time managing her disappointment when she doesn't meet her own high standards. I see it in my other sweet girl who feels all emotions intensely and passionately, in ways that seem unusually profound for her age. However, that translates to expressing rage and sorrow as readily as expressing love and joy.
Isn't it true of ourselves, too? I have a top-notch work ethic, but I sometimes push myself too hard. I love learning new things, but I sometimes feel overwhelmed because I haven't filtered the constant stream of information. Maybe the truth is that we're all beautifully complex and unique individuals, with qualities that can contribute to being our best and our worst selves. Maybe it all just depends on how we channel those qualities, and how we choose to see them.
Recognizing this dichotomy has helped me a lot as a teacher and a parent. When I'm feeling frustrated with a particular behavior, I take a breath and ask myself, "How could this actually serve the child? How can I help them channel this into something that will make the child feel better about themselves, instead of worse? How can I provide the conditions to turn this into a strength, rather than a challenge?"
So often, it all starts with how I choose to see it.
