Coaching with Kindness when the Truth Might Sting

Lisa Weiss contributed today's post. Click here for Lisa's previous post about coaching with kindness. Click here for all of Lisa's posts.

Last month, as I was writing my specific example about the literacy coach who asked me if I had any suggestions for how she might improve her instruction, a little voice in my head was saying: It’s easy to coach from a place of kindness when you are working with a reflective teacher who seeks honest feedback...

I get that, and although that wasn’t the point of the last blog, it brings up important thinking about honest feedback as an act of kindness, when courageous conversations become necessary. I’ve been lucky enough to have a smattering of colleagues in my life who I consider masters of brave conversations. Because of my professional relationships with these leaders, I’ve witnessed some of these crucial conversations. I share this fact because, even though I have read numerous texts on how to have critical conversations, I was not prepared to have them; it was through watching my colleagues, and being able to ask them questions (about things they did that terrified me) that set me up to use what I knew about facilitating uncomfortable conversations. Through watching these two women, I began to visualize myself emulating  those same sorts of conversations when the time came.

I have had the opportunity to provide feedback to coaches who were not meeting the standards for coaching, and/or for providing intervention to students. What I learned from each of those situations is that, even when I heard or saw things that befuddled me, I had the ability to provide honest feedback with kindness. There were two permeating questions when I saw or heard things I knew I’d need to address:

1) What is the standard or expectation?  

2) What exactly did I see and/or hear? Just the facts.

When there are clear standards set, as we have for our intervention courses, giving difficult feedback becomes much easier. I can talk from what I expected to see versus what I actually saw. I’m thinking about a teacher who I once observed teaching an intervention course. This teacher reported that she planned for the Comprehension Focus Group using a GANAG format for daily lesson planning. As I observed the lesson, I filled in a self-made GANAG, writing what I witnessed, so during the debrief I could talk through the lesson in the format this coach knew well.

Full disclosure: I had difficulty filling in the GANAG for a variety of reasons. The goal was unclear, because there were five shared at different times through the lesson. The directions for each task were unclear, and there wasn’t any scaffolding as students attempted to work. As I considered my words to this teacher in our debrief, I thought my most effective move was to ask her to take a moment and GANAG the lesson she just taught. My purpose in doing that was to have her think through what she just did (what I witnessed), and then compare our GANAGs.

It was fascinating, and yet, not difficult to hold this conversation. It was easy to have her tell me about her goal, and then show her that I had five goals recorded; additionally I could share that all five seemed to be of equal importance so I felt confused when it came time for students to independently apply their learning. We talked about each goal I heard her share. We talked about how that impacted students when they were given time to apply the lesson. We talked about what the goal for tomorrow would be based on what happened today. I was the one who had to name the problems when our GANAGs were a mismatch, but because we both knew the expectations of a GANAG’d CFG lesson, we were able to address the problem areas, so I could coach her through the planning for the following day.

If given the choice, I’d avoid these types of conversations altogether, but our purpose is far too great. I owe it to the students, and to this teacher to provide the honest feedback--to provide it kindly, and to gently coach back into the tracks by focusing on the expectations of the lesson, what happened today, and what needs to happen tomorrow and beyond. I think kindness shines in this uncomfortable interaction through the coaching that happens on the spot to plan for the next day, and through the coaching that occurs to keep the teacher on track in the future weeks/months. A coach who only gives the honest feedback is different from the coach who invests the time to stick with the teacher to support her attempts to refocus her lessons.  If I am willing to give the honest feedback, the kindest move I can play afterward is partnering with the teacher, investing time to build efficacy, to put her back in a position to shine.

I will admit that this was a best case scenario; this is what happens when the teacher recognizes the mismatches in expectations, and chooses to look at herself honestly, and is willing to take the feedback. Next month I will write about what I’ve learned from the other side of courageous conversations--what has happened when the teacher gets defensive, is not willing to acknowledge mismatches in expectations, and has justification for all actions and thinking.