In April 2019, I flew to Vancouver Island to join forty educators from the United States and Canada participating in the Deeper Learning Dozen (DLD) project out of Harvard University. We began Chapter 1 at the DLD gathering where First Nations elders and local leaders led us through a paradigm-shifting experience that made me interrogate all of my assumptions about education, knowledge, and data. In that vibrant community of practice, I met some of the most compelling and passionate educators I have ever encountered. One is Gail Higginbottom, district principal for Aboriginal Education in Kootenay Lake District, BC. At the end-of-year DLD virtual convening, amidst the heartache and uncertainty of a global pandemic, Gail shared a story with the group:
Let me begin with a story.
I was eight years old, driving with my gramma out on an old bush road. We arrived at my great uncle’s house and there was a freshly hunted moose on the kitchen floor, skinning and butchering in place. While driving on that bumpy road, my gramma shared this with me: Drink from a straw or you will chip a tooth. I share this story as a reflective tool as I think about equity leadership and Aboriginal education in my district.
Gail went on to draw out three powerful metaphors. First, harvesting the moose: she reminded us that leading for equity is about translating our understanding of complex issues into digestible steps—common language, shared tools, individualized street-level data, and awareness. Second, drinking from a straw: Gail honored that fact that equity work is vulnerable work, and creating emotional safety is essential in working with families, communities, and students as we navigate their needs, hopes, and dreams. Finally, on that bumpy road: Gail acknowledged that her team has worked with the best intentions, and they have more work ahead to see and hear results in closing the opportunity gap between Indigenous and non-Indigenous learners. She publicly committed to continue to build trust and equity awareness districtwide (DLD virtual convening, June 16, 2020).
Close your eyes for a moment and take in the images Gail offers: harvesting the moose, drinking from a straw so that we don’t chip our teeth, navigating that bumpy road toward equity and transformation. These metaphors speak volumes about our collective need to slow down so that we can see the whole learner (adult and child), tend to every part of the system, grow our fluency around equity, and not harm ourselves and each other by moving with the “urgency,” “efficiency,” and “perfectionism” privileged by white supremacy. This is the work of seventh generation principle, based on an ancient Haudenosaunee (Iroquois) philosophy that the decisions we make today should result in a sustainable world seven generations into the future.
Our ancestors and predecessors fought to create space for the dignity and humanity of Black, Indigenous, brown, immigrant, working-class, LGBTQ+, students with learning differences, and others at the margins. We stand on the shoulders of generations of courageous, antiracist educators who refused to uphold a system rooted in oppression and the devaluation of Black and brown lives. Street data is just one more tool in this legacy of resistance—a way to unify our vision of a different world with our daily actions. We hope this book will offer you a gentle path forward to witness and uplift the brilliance and cultural wealth of your students, colleagues, and families.
We can embrace a new way of being together. We must. If not now, when?
I close with the words of my brilliant friend Denise Augustine, a secondee for Indigenous Education with the Ministry of Education in British Columbia:
Deeper learning requires first that we listen deeply. That we open our hearts and minds. That we enter into relationship.
We also need to trust the person whom we are listening to—that they know best where their learning needs to go, where their attention and energy is best spent.
All of that means little if we don’t act on what we have learned. This makes me ask myself the questions, “As a member of the leadership team, what am I doing to demonstrate that I am listening and trusting the educators in our organization? How am I showing/modeling that I value deeper learning? What decisions are we making about how resources are allocated, who we hire, whose voices we include (or do not include) in decision-making?”
Listen deeply. Trust the people. Act on what you learn. With that invocation, I invite you to walk forward on your street data journey with clear eyes and a full heart, knowing that the biggest mistake we can make is to cling to the status quo. Be brave, be bold, be visionary. We’ve got this.