When my first child entered school, I became a parent volunteer. I baked treats, cut out bulletin boards, made photocopies for the teachers, served as an officer in the parent-teacher council, and chaperoned field trips. All very traditional parent volunteer roles. Thirteen years and two more children later, I'm still an active parent volunteer. But my work has changed dramatically.
I've surveyed, collated, and evaluated data on programs. I've facilitated a team of parents and teachers who restructured virtually every aspect of the school program, moving from a high school model with an emphasis on coursework to a middle school model that focuses on students. I've learned about team building, team learning, consensus, best practices, and the importance of vision. More recently, I've learned about dialogue, the Malcolm Baldrige model, and chaos theory as it applies to leadership and organizations. I've attended education conferences with my children's teachers and been part of several district teams that have shared our story at conferences in other states.
And while I've been busy with those tasks, other parent volunteers have participated on teams that have selected textbooks, created new courses and report cards, investigated dress codes, developed new formats for parent-teacher conferences, reinvented student orientation processes, and developed technology plans involving hundreds of thousands of dollars.
That may sound like work best left to the professionals—the curriculum directors, teachers, principals, and various specialists charged with educating children. But in Community Unit School District 300 in Carpentersville, Illinois, it's how we do business.
Shared Vision, Shared Decisions
More than 400 parent volunteers in my district have been trained to participate in our children's education through shared decision making. Working in planning teams of parents, teachers, students, administrators, and community members, each school in District 300 practices a governance model that focuses on trust building, collaboration, shared vision, and continuous improvement to effect true academic reform. We call it, quite simply, "school improvement."
District 300 is a large district 35 miles northwest of Chicago that educates about 15,200 students in eight communities, including rural, suburban, and urban settings. We are not a wealthy district: At $4,875, our cost-per-pupil expenditure is well below the state average of $6,158 and is one of the lowest in the Chicago area. Additionally, we are growing at a rate of one school a year. We're struggling to provide adequate classroom space and meet the challenges of increasing cultural diversity.
Given the district's limited financial resources and growing diversity, schools need to control their own resources based on their students' needs. Our governance model of shared decision making gives schools the freedom to do just that. It's a distinct move away from the traditional school district organization in which administrators make all hiring and curriculum decisions, and parent participation is limited to fund-raising, "teacher helper" roles, and parent-teacher organizations that lack the power to make meaningful decisions.
A Vehicle for Reform
Teams of mixed-role stakeholders at each site learn a collaborative process that focuses on creating a shared vision and continuous improvement. This school improvement model has become the vehicle for volunteerism and reform. Teams create a mission based on student needs and set goals to achieve that mission.
Our district's decision to forge authentic family partnerships between home and school reflects the nationwide trend to grant parents and community members the power to directly influence the educational process. Under this model, our schools have accomplished major academic reforms, including the adoption of high school block scheduling, a true middle school philosophy, and multi-age classrooms and looping (teachers' having classes of the same children for several years) at some elementary sites. One of the middle schools has adopted a dress code, and high schools differ in their graduation requirements.
So committed is the district administration to empowering parents to be direct participants that when voters approved a tax increase in 1994 to build a new K–8 school, a planning team of parents and community members was in place long before the principal was selected or a single brick laid. That planning team not only worked with the architects, but also developed the school's curriculum, created a long-term technology plan, chose textbooks, planned the media center, and assisted in the principal-selection process.
Challenging Tradition
Turning the district's vision of shared decision making into reality has not been easy. It can be a hard sell to tradition-bound staff used to making decisions on their own. Shared decision making has meant jarring people out of their comfort zones: principals who have called the shots for years; teachers and curriculum specialists who consider themselves the experts; and parents whose attitudes toward schools range from complacency to combativeness. Equally challenging is bringing students into a collaborative process that may ultimately change how they experience school. They can be the most resistant of all.
Our process for shared decision making strives to value all perspectives. For instance, I recall an early planning team meeting where an activity called for sharing our school's successes. Teachers enthusiastically participated, while most parents sat in silence. Many of us were new to the school and didn't know much about it. Others were inhibited at sharing in a group that included their child's teachers.
Finally, in the midst of all the praise, one brave parent said, "My child comes home from school and cries." For a moment, there was silence. Similar accounts followed. I now see that as a breakthrough moment when highly disparate individuals moved an inch toward truly listening to one another. It initiated a much-needed review of how elementary schoolchildren make the transition into middle school. Ultimately, it became a key element in defining the school's goals.
The Power of Relationships
Could data such as "need to improve transition process" and "my child cries about school" be gathered from a parent survey? Probably, and our school improvement teams do use surveys to obtain needed input. But the power of gathering people to build relationships cannot be understated. Relationships bolster our school improvement process and represent one of our district's core values.
Spending time building trust among stakeholders carries teams through the rocky patches of school reform. Our process is not easy, nor is it tidy. It requires consensus, not votes, and works hard to build bridges and dismantle walls. Everyone must be heard, and everyone must learn together. It is on this foundation that schools work to build partnership and trust rather than delegation and suspicion.
How does that happen? District 300 supports the school improvement process with continuous training efforts. Twice a year, mixed-role stakeholders from the sites attend two week-long workshops and learn about trust, collaboration, and shared vision. This training, and other professional development opportunities our district offers all stakeholders, are the backbone of our school improvement process. We do have rules that govern the process, although they're different from the rules most other districts follow. Ultimately the school board accepts or rejects each site's school improvement plan. I can't imagine how a district could successfully implement a model of shared decision making without committing substantive training efforts to support it.
Further, regular training ensures that stakeholders can learn when they're ready. At any given site, you'll find those visionary thinkers who have embraced shared decision making and leap into uncharted territory without hesitation. Many more are willing to follow in their footsteps, while others hesitate and adopt a wait-and-see attitude. And yes, others vehemently oppose site-based decision making, silently or loudly. Continuous training and adherence to the process means that the door doesn't have to close on anyone.
Building Trust
School improvement teams are not always composed of positive people who support academic reform. My experiences in reform initiatives have shown just the opposite. Sometimes stakeholders join teams with the specific agenda of halting initiatives.
That certainly happened at my daughter's high school when the planning team undertook a study of block scheduling. A parent who joined the team with the loudly proclaimed mission of preventing such a travesty eventually became one of the biggest supporters of the reform. The process gave voice to his opposition and fears; learning about alternate schedules empowered him to directly influence the educational process at his children's school. Everybody won. A process built on trust and consensus rather than suspicion and majority vote helps make that a reality for all our decisions.
In such a large, diverse district, it would be easy to lose sight of what everyone is doing. But our central administration has shifted to a service-oriented role that supports each site's school improvement efforts. Its newest initiative, Partnership for Accountability, is developing a quality review process for each site to assess its improvement efforts.
A districtwide communication council supports schools by encouraging the flow of information among sites. The council, which meets monthly, is evenly composed of community members and staff. Council members learn team-building and problem-solving strategies while monitoring district issues and national education trends and research.
School board policy and contract language further support the school improvement process. In fact, all seven members of the school board have been trained in the process, and many began their involvement in the district as members of local school improvement teams.
Breaking the Mold
I cannot think of another volunteer experience I've had that has been as meaningful as my participation in school improvement. My work counts. My voice is heard. I've made a difference for my children. Hundreds of other parent volunteers in my district have broken the mold of traditional parent volunteers and have helped shape the educational landscape of their schools.
These efforts have not gone unrecognized. District 300 has earned several prestigious awards. Although such recognition is a tremendous honor for the district, another measure of success is much more important to me. Several years ago, a divisive school board cast long shadows over our district. Board members spent more time arguing over roof repairs than taking substantive interest in education. An impending deficit, a pressing need for more classrooms, and a vocal conservative opposition to public education compounded the problem.
In efforts to reclaim the school district for the children, a grassroots citizens' group formed and successfully slated four school board candidates in a field of 17 challengers. That was in 1993. Since then, the group has successfully seated all 15 school board seats up for reelection. In 1994, Citizens Organized for Responsible Education (CORE) turned a 2-1 referendum defeat into a 2-1 victory. In November 1997, another school construction referendum attempt suffered a 2-1 defeat. CORE again went to work on a second campaign. Although the group turned 3,000 opponents into supporters, the measure still fell short by 1,300 votes. The recent defeat demonstrates that our political advocacy efforts must focus on maintaining a viable public education system. These political realities also underscore the need for schools to involve parents and community members in substantive ways.
Many of the people originally involved in organizing CORE, including myself, had participated on school improvement teams and had been trained in collaboration. Our training enabled us to bring together diverse people from across the district, which is 118 square miles, to work for the good of our district, regardless of local site issues.
For some participants, political advocacy led to joining school improvement teams. For others, involvement on school improvement teams precipitated political advocacy. That CORE even exists is a powerful testament to the commitment stakeholders make to protect our model of shared decision making, for winning elections and referendums represent difficult and complex work.
Slow Change and Parental Urgency
My one regret about our school improvement process is that considerable time can elapse before meaningful change occurs. I joined my first school improvement team when my oldest daughter entered 6th grade. She was a high school freshman when we implemented the middle school philosophy. She missed it, but my second daughter entered that year as a 6th grader and greatly benefited from the changes.
Similarly, it took almost three years to study, develop, and implement block scheduling at her high school, which began this year. My oldest daughter is now a college freshman, so she missed out again. But my sophomore reaps its benefits. My third daughter is a 4th grader. I'm confident that the academic reforms so many teams worked so hard to realize will continue to flourish for her.
My experience seeing my children move through the school system underscores a critical factor in school improvement efforts, that of parental urgency. Children slip through schools quickly. Parents don't have a lot of time to wait for schools to get it right. We want it right for our kids, and we want it that way now.
Balancing that sense of urgency with the professional concerns of the staff, which sometimes involve job issues rather than what's best for the children, can be tricky. A 7th grade math teacher, for instance, wants another year to prepare for team teaching. Or perhaps he's highly resistant to working with a team because he's taught for 20 years on his own. The parent of a 7th grader, however, once convinced of its merits, wants the team teaching to start now so her child can reap its benefits. Both have legitimate concerns. Such scenarios underscore the need for consistent training, for building relationships, and for listening to the concerns of all stakeholders while learning together and working toward consensus.
Easy? Hardly. Worth the time it takes? Definitely. In fact, I've staked my children's education on it.
