What is Success?

As the concept of expectations and definitions of success continue to rattle around my mind, the question that propels itself to the top with the most force is What's wrong with a white, middle class mother having white, middle class expectations for her children?

I have to say: nothing.

Yesterday I was giving thought to the differences of expectations of expectations I have for my own kids. People have often mistakenly accused me of pushing my kids, when in fact all I do is listen to their interests and support them the best I can. This usually means they get the most support in literacy and inquiry because these are my two strengths. Many of the things they are interested in are typical of white, middle-class because this is our culture. So why do I feel like this is wrong?

I came to see that it's not. My family is white, we are middle class. I was feeling like a bad guy for having and perpetuating this culture until I took the time to acknowledge that this is our culture and our heritage.

And yet my children are also interested in kapa haka and learning te Reo, so we have te Reo books at home. They're interested in bush craft and Maori knowledge of the bush is far superior to my own.

Being white and having a white, middle-class culture isn't wrong or bad. It's just different.

What is wrong is when we try to purport that other people are failures for enjoying success in their culture. It's wrong to ignore individuality and force an identity onto people. It would be wrong of me to tell my children they should not be interested in learning te Reo. It would be a shallow understanding and knowledge of bush craft we'd have it we only used a white botanical construct. We need Maori voice - the Waitakere rahui is an excellent example of this. They care about our natural resources. They are about our history. We're lucky we have Maori people who are holding onto their Maoridom - all over the world we see indigenous peoples making a far better job of being kaitiaki of the land than white people. They know the land and how to respect it in ways I - for one - do not. If nothing else, it makes sense for our survival to make sure Maori voice is heard.

My husband was challenging me last night, asking what if our #3 wanted to be a race car driver? My tummy tightened and my jaw clenched at that. It's not something I want my intelligent little girl to do.

As we've been walking around MOTAT today, my husband takes every opportunity to challenge my thinking and my perceptions. The Dig It exhibition is on this weekend, so there are construction-themed activities everywhere. "You should be a stop-go girl", he said to #1, with a swift swat from me. "She'll earn lots of money", he said. "You could be a digger driver and ear lots of money" he said to another - again with another swift flick from me.

See, there's nothing wrong with money. Nothing wrong with having money or earning money. With money you can do a lot of good and help a lot of people. But money isn't my measure of success. Maybe that's because I was raised in a white middle class family. I read an article a while ago that suggested people who were raised in white middle class families accounted for a significant proportion of conceptual degrees - Arts degrees and the like. The reasoning the writer put forward was that people from these families weren't in need of anything so they didn't study skills-based qualifications to learn how to do something specific. Building, mechanics, engineering for example. They studied thinkgs that were interesting to them because they weren't driven by an economic need. So if my definition of success isn't an economic one, and it's not necessarily an academic one, then what is it?

I think my definition of success has more to do with an intrinsic sense of purpose. My #1 child has a dream of being a scientist, so if she wound up being a digger driver I don't think she'd feel successful. She may enjoy learning how to drive a digger, and she may enjoy using one on the weekends to dig holes to build gardents, but I don't think she'd feel successful. Not unless she was researching the physics of the machines and innovating a green, sustainable replacement. On teh other hand, my #2 child was stoked to be driving a digger today, and maybe that's something that would give him a feeling of success and satisfaction. On the other hand, it may not because he has the goal of becoming a nurse.

Some would see - and do see - teachers and nurses as being unsuccessful because we get paid so little. It's certainly not a career you get into if you're looking for a 6-figure salary right off the bat (although that would be nice, thanks government). Yet teaching leaves me immensely satisfied. I see changes in people's skills and thinking everyday. I see young people journey from being children to young adults. I'm home with my kids in the holidays and after school. I have a consistent flow of learning available to me. I can push boundaries and find new ways to engage teenagers in their learning - and their world. I never have the same day twice.

So I feel that my definition of success actually still remains. I will be a successful teacher if every students (and colleague) feels valued and supported to explore the things that matter most to them. That means my Maori students feel that their culture and their stories are valuable and valued. My musical students feel supported to express their teenage angst in their writing. My dyslexics feel confident and competent sharing their understanding using pictures and audio rather than writing everything down if that's what they need to do.



And maybe the Maori students just need me to stand out of their way. Maybe I present them with a range of texts to study and bring in Matua or Whaea to help them unpack the Maori texts in a genuine way. Maybe I need to change my pathway to success. Maybe then I can authentically say I'm providing a space that allows Maori to achieve AS Maori.

What REALLY makes a CoL a Kahui Ako?

Teacher Only Day - Whiriatetangata Kahui Ako Day #1

Storified session Tweets



Challenging.
Disruptive.
Mental Assent.

Words to describe my experience of today's teacher only day - the first for the Whiriatetangata Kahui Ako.

I say every child deserves an equal opportunity.
I say success looks different for everyone.
I can give mental assent to cultural sustainability and to equity; to having a different version of success for everyone - but do I really mean it? I had a great couple of colleagues press me on this today - and found that as much as I espouse these ideas, my underlying prejudice says otherwise. I say these things, but what I really mean is:

You can have equal opportunity - but only if you agree with what I think is important and valuable.
You can have your version of success - and I can look down on you and celebrate your success from a position of superiority because my children have true success.

I was challenged: What does success for my children look like to me?
Competent and capable to do what it is they want to do.
But what about kindness? Happiness?
Kind people can get used as doormats, I'd rather they were assertive.
Happiness comes from being competent and capable.
But does it really?
Well, I certainly feel happier now that I don't feel incompetent and incapable every day of the week.
What does success for your children look like for you?
My #1 is academically very capable and aspires to be an innovative and inventive scientist. My #2 was given a 1% chance of life, and now he's beaten the odds and progressing. #3 is flying along enjoying learning and enjoying people, while #4 is happy cruising, exploring, and just being in the world.

If I'm truly honest - I struggle daily with the fact that my #4 just doesn't seem as motivated to learn as the others, and worry that she's not as smart as the others.

So what's my measure of success for my children? I can't say it's academic success, because I don't expect #2 to reach any lofty academic goals. He aspires to be a nurse, and I feel that a health care assistant might be a more appropriate goal for him. Yet, academic success is what I expect from my girls and worry when my #4 aspires to be a frog and a bulldozer and barbie, and Hulksmash...

What I can say is that I have a different measure for success for each child. I can say that I have never pushed my kids into being something or doing something - I've just supported in the best way that I can. When that has meant bringing home friends who are cleverer in Maths than I am to play maths games with my 3-4 year old because that was what she was loving, and I have no idea how to do that, that's what's happened. When that's meant searching high and low to find reading material that is suitable for my bookwormy children who have a higher reading age than what emotionally their minds can handle, that's what's happened.

Perhaps it's easier in my family because we're all the same culture, colour, ethnicity, background. I'm sharing with my kids my values and beliefs because that's my job as a parent.

So what's my job as a teacher?

To be culturally responsive?
But that doesn't just mean stick Maori labels on things and tick the box. I was heading more in the culturally sustainable way when I had my te Reo learning goals up on my whiteboard and my Maori ako gave me feedback on my learning.
It also doesn't mean chuck in some Maori authors.
I've never agreed with the idea of focusing on Maori (or anyone) as targeted, priority learners, because I've always fought for treating every student as an individual, and finding ways for the student to succeed. My late high school principal said "if the student isn't learning then the teacher isn't teaching" and I took that to heart. So if my students are not achieving the success they deserve, then what is it that's missing?

When everyone can achieve success in a way that is meaningful for them - is that when a Community of Learning can authentically call itself a Kahui Ako?