School leaders play an important role in creating conditions for teacher empowerment in their classrooms and buildings. However, the role of leaders is not to give agency, but to create conditions where agency is encouraged and realized. Leaders need to learn the context, establish the culture, and provide support and autonomy for teachers to perfect their skills and pedagogy. When this is done well, student learning and adult professionalism benefit.
At the large Boston elementary school I led for two years, I made an effort to discover the ways that teachers at the school were not seen and heard—so we could change that. After a series of listening sessions and observations, focus groups, and surveys, I realized there were three teacher groups that needed to feel more agency and belonging: special educators of students with severe disabilities, teachers of color, and paraprofessionals. I knew from my experience as a former principal and teacher that these groups of educators are sometimes marginalized in schools, and so creating conditions for them to enact their agency can have a powerful impact on school culture and achievement. My team and I developed several strategies to work with these teachers in cultivating their sense of agency and self-efficacy.
Learning from Special Education Teachers
We realized that our special education teachers had a lot of specialized knowledge that our larger teaching staff could benefit from. About 15 percent of our students were in self-contained classes for children with significant physical impairments; many of them used wheelchairs, were nonverbal, or required significant attention for basic life skills such as eating, toileting, and communicating. The teachers who worked with these children were a tight-knit group. They developed unique skills, while also having to deliver content like all other teachers. They were adept at understanding and developing nonverbal communication. They knew how to formatively track and report incremental progress. They tended to know about new computer-based interventions and had strong relationships with their students’ caregivers. In addition, they were plugged in to community- and government-based resources available for families because so many of their students and families had multiple, complex needs.
Our special education teachers had a lot of specialized knowledge that our larger teaching staff could benefit from.
And yet, these teachers had grown accustomed to sitting in school-based professional development year after year, hearing about instructional methods and management strategies that had no bearing on the work they did every day. In some ways, they were marginalized like their students. And just like their students, these teachers still needed to learn and feel like they belonged.
When I talked to these teachers, I realized they were eager to share their expertise with the rest of the staff. Although general education teachers did not teach students with such severe disabilities, they did teach inclusion classes where they periodically had students with physical impairments or who had experienced recent trauma. In these instances, general education teachers could benefit from learning some of the techniques that our special education teachers were implementing nearly every day.
To grow these teachers’ agency and authority in the school, I asked them to begin sharing their expertise. I invited them to co-lead a portion of our monthly PD sessions where they could share a communication or assessment strategy or collaborative team approach. They explained techniques and strategies such as modifying standards-based performance indicators for high-functioning students; using sensory objects and “fidget devices” to increase on-task focus; and using pictograms and images to communicate ideas and processes when oral language could be an issue. The special education team lead also started giving me feedback on the general PD planning and suggesting ways it could be more universally applicable to the whole student population. When engaged in learning walks, for example, the special education teachers explained a modified observation tool they had created and showed the ways their students demonstrated academic growth. The beauty of their enacted agency was the way they demonstrated the potential of universal design and inclusive education for students with significant needs.
These teachers soon became a valued source of pedagogical knowledge. Other teachers began to respect the complexity of their colleagues’ work, and the teams became more integrated. A few of the higher-functioning special education students were partnered with a classroom buddy in our mainstream classes, and they would attend, with paraprofessional support, a couple of classroom lessons a week. This led to a few 3rd grade students volunteering in some of the specialized classrooms once a week. Again, these teachers were the catalysts for this change. By highlighting their expertise and bringing their specialized insight into the broader dialogue around inclusive school practices, they felt more agency in their jobs and more respect in the school community.
Supporting Teachers of Color to Speak Out
Teachers of color also wanted to know their voice mattered and that I would support them in the ways they needed to grow. In the spring of my first year and the summer before my second year as principal, I sought to diversify our school’s teacher force. I recruited and hired six lead teachers of color, and most of these teachers were in their first or second year of teaching.
In addition to trying to learn the school’s culture, policy, and practices and being introduced to new instructional programs in a high-needs, turnaround school, these teachers were navigating informal power dynamics among staff. A few of our veteran teachers during grade-level meetings or in the teachers’ lounge were expressing deficit views of children, leaving some teachers of color to conclude racial or cultural bias in those views. Many teachers of color enter the profession aware of the achievement and opportunity gaps facing children of color and feel obligated to be a force for positive change in those children’s lives, which includes affirming the belief in their capability and brilliance. They’d discuss their concerns with me but did not feel empowered to speak up in meetings with their colleagues. A sole Black or Latino teacher on a grade-level team who is new to a school is generally not looking to make any waves. It is not always safe or prudent to speak up or out when you are the “new hire,” especially a person of color, particularly in instances where you are challenging established norms. Consequences can be small or large, from being bad-mouthed in the teachers’ lounge to ostracization.
I knew these teachers needed space to grow pedagogically and help shift the culture without worrying about negative consequences.
I knew these teachers needed space to grow pedagogically and help shift the culture without worrying about negative consequences. My school, like many others, needed to be a space of safety for educators of color to stretch their wings (Cormier & Scott, 2021; Gittens, Christianson, & Steiner, 2023).
Observing, inquiring, and listening was again the starting point for addressing these challenges. After learning how teachers of color felt unheard, I began to talk to all my staff about the value of diverse viewpoints in our professional learning sessions. And, as the district was promoting the use of culturally sustaining educational practices in our schools, I used the opportunity to show how asset-based thinking and holding high expectations of students aligned with those goals. My PD sessions were peppered with clips and quotes of educators and researchers of color who held asset-based views of Black, Brown and English-learner children. I also modeled vulnerability, sharing aspects of my own learner and leader journeys in staff meetings and professional learning settings. This made storytelling a norm, and my teachers of color became more comfortable sharing stories of their challenges and successes, and what made them believe in the potential of their students.
In addition, my weekly memos to the staff would highlight a new practice by a teacher, or I would invite staff to check out student work or a project displayed in a colleague’s classroom. I made sure there were regular examples of things happening in my Black and Latino teachers’ classrooms. One powerful way to promote teacher agency is to model the reciprocal flow of teaching and learning—sharing what I learn as the leader, while inviting others to be taught by some of the efforts of our newer (and browner) educators.
Treating Paraprofessionals as Professionals
Paraprofessionals were the third group of educators that I wanted to give more agency to. Many told me they wanted to be more involved in teaching and felt that classroom teachers underutilized their talents. Others felt they were overly relied upon to handle student misbehavior or communicate with combative caregivers, and they expressed concerns about not being well-versed in reading and interpreting the IEPs of students they were in classrooms to support. Most paraprofessionals are simply told by the lead teacher what the student needs and how they should go about meeting those needs. For paraprofessional agency to be enacted, there must be a shared expectation between them and the classroom teacher that the relationship is a partnership, with shared responsibility and mutual accountability. These issues, if not addressed, can lead to feelings of lower self-efficacy among paraprofessionals (Mason et al., 2021).
For paraprofessional agency to be enacted, there must be a shared expectation between them and the classroom teacher that the relationship is a partnership.
I knew these support staff needed knowledge and resources, so I invited them to our pre-opening professional development sessions—and gave them stipends to attend. In paraprofessional breakout sessions, they learned and practiced reading and understanding IEP service delivery goals, so they could better serve students. I surveyed them on their hopes and aspirations for the school year and shared that data with the staff. I also used that survey data to create a PD series specifically for paraprofessionals, which included classroom management and de-escalation strategies. We practiced “difficult conversations” with caregivers and lead teachers. I also supported paraprofessionals who wanted to enroll in teacher licensure programs with letters of recommendation and modification of their schedules so they could complete practicum requirements.
I gave support to the professionalism of their job and responsibilities, but paraprofessionals stepped into their power through their own actions once conditions were created. They participated in my data-collection surveys and focus groups, and later the PD series I developed for them. They gave feedback on how the effort was going. They shared anecdotes of teaching opportunities and more productive conversations with lead teachers. And a few of them went on to obtain licensure to become lead teachers. Our actions together communicated their value as educators and change agents in our journey toward school transformation.
Be a Catalyst for Teacher Agency
School leaders can and should create conditions for teachers to cultivate and actualize their agency. They are the culture brokers who set the tone for teacher voice to matter, through their willingness to listen and act upon their ideas and voices. In my school, yes, I had to work at improving our test scores and making sure learning happened, but more important, I had to work to create a culture of possibility, of belief in teachers’ and students’ ability to learn new and challenging things. I had to support, champion, and model listening and inquiry for all teachers. When leaders use what’s learned to provide space, time, and resources, others can realize their inherent power and agency.
