I asked an unhappy educator why she kept these feelings to herself. I promised I wouldn’t identify her. She told me this:
“I don’t complain to supervisors because I’m concerned about retribution. There is the overall sense among a lot of teachers, myself included, that if you don’t play ball, then your administrators will not support you and have your back when it comes to things like troublesome parents or disagreements with colleagues. I’ve actually seen teachers who don’t conform be scrutinized and targeted to the point where they leave the school.”
“I’ve also learned that complaining doesn’t do any good and nothing ever changes,” she said. She said the faculty advisory committee created at her public school to respond to teacher questions and concerns usually concludes that whatever the teacher wants won’t work.
She said her request for help with a disruptive autistic student was rejected because of lack of staff equipped for such problems. It also took three weeks to get heat for her room. So, she said, when students express frustration with some new policy, she suggests they get their parents instead of her to complain to administrators.
I have never given much attention to teacher reluctance to challenge their bosses. Perhaps I have absorbed their feeling of hopelessness. The evident harm from the new grading rules led me to ask teachers around the country what they thought of this teacher’s opinion, since they are experts on what, if anything, could be done about such problems.
Michael Garbus, recently retired from a D.C. high school, said he, too, has urged students to complain to their parents if they want administrators to fix something. He said recommendations by his school’s faculty advisory committee were regularly ignored by management.
During his 23 years in his district, he has seen a big change in administrative behavior. “When I started, it was as if they didn’t care about what teachers did in the classrooms,” he said. “As time went on, it shifted to a very tight central control with decisions made without regard to what principals and teachers wanted.”
As an English teacher in San Diego four decades ago, Mary Catherine Swanson found the only way to get support for her innovative approach to tutoring and improving study habits was to leave her big district and work in a separate system of county-run schools whose leader liked her ideas. She created the Advancement Via Individual Determination organization. It now has more than 2 million students in 8,000 schools, the largest college preparatory program in the country.
The only hope for frustrated teachers, she said, is to organize themselves into groups that push for change. “That is the cornerstone of the work we do with schools,” she said.
It is what happened at Hillsdale High School in San Mateo, Calif., my alma mater. That ordinary suburban campus transformed itself when imaginative teachers and administrators started working together for change.
Greg Jouriles, a former teacher union representative who is still active in the Hillsdale group, said the teacher who told me why she didn’t complain described accurately the power dynamics involved. “The administration has the authority, is centralized and is not spending most of its time teaching kids,” he said. “Teachers tend not to be fighters by personality. We are often obedient and conforming, accepting authority, nurturing and caring, and, frankly, lacking some self-regard or the awareness that we truly can assert ourselves and have more of a say.”
Working with administrators who encouraged collaboration and creativity, the teachers at Hillsdale developed a system where their opinions counted, where they worked together to align their methods and where big projects — like an annual re-creation of a 1915 World War I…