As an educator, I have the pleasure of working with folks from all walks of life. One of the lessons learned early in my teaching career is that it truly does take a village to raise a child. The relationship between home and school is vital. As such, parents, as primary educators of their child, have an awesome obligation to fulfill. Advocating for their child is near the top of the list of the responsibilities that come with the enterprise of being a parent.
For the majority of events that transpire at a school, parents, when in the role of advocate, understand that not everything is black and white. There are frequently two or more perspectives to consider. Ultimately, having their concern voiced and acted upon in a genuine manner, even if the outcome is not 100 per cent in their favour, is at the heart of their advocacy. Issues such as bullying, particularly cyberbullying, are serious and demand the full attention of all community partners. This is, however, where some parents take advocacy to an extreme and in a most ironic manner. Often they become bullies themselves by mandating unreasonable expectations for classroom teachers and school administrators.
This type of parent lands on the helipad then leads the charge for justice with their professional title. When I get a phone call or email that is prefaced with the words “I am a lawyer,” I know that I may get a one-dimensional interpretation of an event, which, more often than not, seeks retribution upon the perceived offender. I understand the parent is being an advocate for their child. I get that sometimes kids are cruel to others. What I do not get though, is what the intent of the parent is when a professional title is used at the opening of a dialogue.
Am I supposed to be impressed? Am I supposed to sit straighter in my chair? Am I supposed to treat you any differently than I would treat any other parent in my school community? Should I start prefacing my business and social interactions by stating “I am a principal?” I am not sure if that will get me through the Tim Horton’s line up any faster or get me a discount on my coffee.
Your title does not mean you can assume the role of judge, jury and executioner. You want instant justice for your child. You want the most severe consequences possible for the other party. This is not how our legal system works. Can you imagine having that attitude with a provincial court judge? It would only be a matter of minutes before Judge Judy sends that legal counsel packing.
I respect the livelihood of all community members but I do not presume to lord over them or tell them how to do their jobs. I believe that parents must advocate for their child when circumstances warrant – particularly when a child is not capable. Kids though, are more resilient than we give them credit for.
Communication is critical. Understanding, compassion, empathy and trust in processes, which strive to do what is best, are what help home and school work better together. Patience and due process trump demands for instant justice. There absolutely must be accountability. The child, our most precious villager, is also influenced by the examples set by the rest of the villagers.
This has been further instilled in me through my service in the Royal Canadian Navy, which is an environment where rank and title are very prevalent. What I learned early in my military career is that respect is a commodity that is earned; never demanded. R-E-S-P-E-C-T … truly a spelling word that applies to all walks of life.
Tim Cusack is an educator, writer and member of the RCN.
