It’s difficult to ignore the increasing level of angst among many educators in New Zealand at present – some of which is about to spill over in forms of industrial action, such is the level of frustration being felt. Conversations in schools, staffrooms, and leadership circles are dominated by the latest set of mandates about curriculum, assessment, and teaching practice, adding to an ever-increasing sense of overwhelm and frustration.
The pressure is real. Each new directive seems to arrive pre-packaged, leaving little room for debate or adaptation. Teachers feel undervalued and under-appreciated, their experience and expertise ignored. It’s no wonder that so many feel like they are being swept along in a tide of top-down reform.
I get it. The issues that drive these mandates are not unimportant. Headlines about declining achievement in literacy or mathematics, or concerns about consistency in assessment, grab attention and provoke a strong sense of urgency. But here lies the danger: when we allow the tyranny of the urgent to dominate our focus, we risk sacrificing something much more important – our why.
In the leadership development programmes I run with my colleague Maurie Abraham, we always begin with a deep dive into our ‘why’ – our core beliefs and values. We explore this with participants by asking questions such as; “what do we believe about education? About pedagogy? About our learners as unique individuals with potential?” Without clarity on these things, our responses to change are inevitably reactive, shaped by whatever external demand shouts the loudest. With clarity, however, we are more likely to hold steady – engaging with change in ways that reflect our core beliefs and values, rather than abandoning them.
This tension isn’t new. It’s what keeps our minds sharp, our practice continuously evolving, and the experience of schooling remaining relevant and engaging for all who attend.
I’ve written before about the contrast between John Dewey’s vision of a learner-centred, constructivist education – where students actively construct knowledge through experience and interaction – and E.D. Hirsch’s focus on the transmission of a common body of knowledge. The latter appears to be strongly influencing the current direction of ministerially directed mandates, while the former reflects what we’ve experienced over the past 30 years during which our curriculum and teacher education programmes have leaned into a largely constructivist approach. The current push feels very different – pre-determined, top down, and driven by a particular set of beliefs about knowledge and compliance that run counter to what many teachers hold dear, even if they haven’t always put those beliefs into words.
I’ve also written about the inherent dangers of over-emphasising the sort of success that rewards the accumulation of knowledge and how pursuit of this can quickly tip to perfectionism, and a habit of needing to ‘be right’ instead of being prepared to learn from making mistakes.
None of these things are binary issues. There is no particular ‘right or wrong’ in these tensions, and great educators will regularly be weighing up the options as to which strategy to employ to meet the needs of a particular individual or cohort. Of course there are certain areas of knowledge that provide the foundation for further thought. And of course we’d love to see all of our learners motivate to achieve success in what they’re doing. Decisions about how to achieve these things, what approach(es) we need to take, however, are where our educational philosophies may vary.
The problem is that when we haven’t articulated our shared beliefs, resistance becomes fragmented. We end up attacking the symptoms – criticising a new assessment process here, or lamenting the latest curriculum approach change there – without addressing the deeper cause: a clash of beliefs about what education is for, and how learning happens best.
Take assessment as an example. A belief shaped by urgency might drive a school or system to introduce more tests in an effort to lift achievement data quickly. By contrast, a belief shaped by a future vision (e.g. where all learners thrive, and where equity and fairness matter) would ask different questions. How do we ensure our assessments are fair to all learners? How do they help us understand not just what students know, but how they are growing as thinkers, creators, and collaborators? These two approaches might both claim to address “achievement,” but the difference the experience of learning and in outcomes for learners is stark.
The same is true in classrooms every day:
- If I believe that learners construct knowledge through experience, I will design opportunities for them to explore, question, and test their ideas, rather than simply listening to me explain.
- If I believe every learner has unique potential, I will offer different ways for them to show their understanding, rather than forcing them into a single mould.
- If I believe education is about human flourishing, not just compliance, I will invite my students to reflect not only on what they’ve learned, but on how they’ve grown.
None of these practices are about ignoring standards or neglecting accountability. They are about anchoring practice in beliefs – so that when the waves of mandates come (and they will keep coming), we are not tossed about without direction.
The urgent will always demand our attention. But the question we must keep asking ourselves is this: “are we simply reacting to the urgent, or are we acting from our core beliefs about the kind of future we want for our learners?”
This is why it’s not enough for each of us to privately hold our own convictions. We need to take the time, as schools and communities, to make our shared beliefs visible. That might mean gathering staff to co-create a statement of what we believe about learners and learning. It might mean testing each new mandate against that statement: “does this align with who we are and what we value?” It might simply mean pausing regularly to remind ourselves of the future we are working towards.
Because in the end, mandates will come and go. What endures – what truly matters – is whether we remain grounded in our why. If we can hold to that, then even in the midst of change, we can respond with integrity, creativity, and hope.
Something to think about.
Here are some questions that might be useful for you to ponder individually, or to use in a staff meeting as you work these ideas through…
- What do I most deeply believe about how my learners grow and thrive?
- Where in my current practice do those beliefs show up most clearly? Where do they feel compromised?
- When faced with a new mandate or urgent demand, how can I pause to ask: Does this align with my core beliefs, or is it pulling me away from them?
- As a team, school or community, how do we make our shared beliefs about learning visible, so that they guide our collective response to external pressures?
- How might holding equity and fairness as core values change the way we approach issues like assessment, curriculum, or reporting?
And some questions specifically for principals or school leaders…
- As a leader, how are you ensuring your school’s shared beliefs about learning guide decisions, rather than simply reacting to external pressures?
- What concrete actions can you take to help your staff pause, reflect, and align new mandates with the school’s core values and vision for learners?
- How can you, as a leader, stand in the gap between external mandates and your staff’s practice, ensuring responses reflect your school’s values rather than simply complying?
