How to raise student achievement by speaking up

By Marijke Conklin

(Oakland, January 15 2007) When I testified at the Oakland Board of Education meeting last November, I was nervous.

The last time I testified at a public meeting was over ten years ago.  As a student in District of Columbia Public Schools (D.C.P.S), I asked if Mayor Marion Barry could provide us with textbooks.  And permanent teachers.  And potable water.  I had lived and traveled abroad and I knew that some conditions in D.C.P.S  (like some in O.U.S.D.) resembled those of exploited countries.  A self-important teenager, I didn’t notice who else was there.  I just knew what private schools across the land already know: students need materials and services to learn.           

Flash forward to Oakland.  This time, I was a school employee.  The new State Administrator and the Executive Director of Special Education were present.  I saw board members and press.  As an intern,  I felt vulnerable.  Would there be repercussions for speaking publicly? Would my competence be questioned?  Would speaking out turn the bureaucracy against me, and affect my ability to raise student achievement?     

As I stood in line pondering these questions, I began to think about what my students were missing.  Mario(*) excelled with sustained individual attention.  In a small group, Adil performed above grade level.  Huong sits and listens with an adult seated by him on the rug.  These are students designated as having special needs.  According to academic research and the law, they need more than an overachieving teacher to achieve high expectations.  They need services. 

In short, I stopped thinking about district politics and myself.  I started thinking about my students.     

I imagined workshop time, center activities and 1:1 opportunities.  I imagined one adult calming excitable students while I continued instruction uninterrupted.  I imagined recess working with small groups while the assistant helped with paperwork.  I imagined eating lunch.

Just before I reached the microphone, I remembered the phrase coined by teacher and activist Audre Lorde: “Your silence will not protect you.”  I realized my silence could never protect my students — only hurt their academic achievement.  

Whether our students need clean rooms, a caring adult, heat, appropriate curriculum, computers, a custodian, an Instructional Assistant, speech therapy, psychological services or other educational scaffolds guaranteed by IDEA and the Williams suit, teachers must be responsible for reaching beyond our classrooms to get those things.  After my turn to speak, Phyllis Harris, the Executive Director of Programs for Exceptional Children, approached me.  She said she had no idea we didn’t have an Instructional Assistant.  She said PEC wants to hear about it when our students need something.    

The next week, both vacant positions at my school were filled by qualified assistants. I heard from others who spoke that Instructional Assistants had come to their classrooms too. 

Coincidence or consequence?  I’ll never know.  But I believe there are repercussions to speaking out.  Really excellent ones.  And my students are now reaping the benefits. 

*All students’ names have been changed to protect their privacy