Identity theft. You hear the phrase and perhaps visions of credit cards and bank statements begin to dance in your head. But what about identity theft in our schools?

We each belong to multiple groups, whether it’s race, class, gender, ethnicity, religion, sexual orientation, language, age, disability and so on. Our identity is a unique blend of our group associations, strengths, and needs.

Yet with our need for order and organization, do our schools silence students’ and teachers’ identities and thus are inadvertently responsible for identity theft?

It sounds outlandish; some might even say preposterous. Of course our schools would never admit to such intentions.

But, if we examine our practices thoughtfully, do we expect all students to learn a certain way, do certain types of work, take certain types of assessments and the like? Do we glaze over the assets, experiences, and resources every individual has to offer and instead cater to a majority, revere certain types of learners, certain types of families, or even certain types of teachers?

The pandemic has done many things, one of which is to magnify gaps and opportunities. Gaps become glaringly apparent as schools scramble to meet the needs of their diverse populations.

Such inequalities harm both students and teachers. Some groups of students are faring far better than others and some groups of teachers are faring far better than others.

By disrupting how things are done, the pandemic provides us an opportunity to question why things are done and perhaps discover some better ways. As many traditions fall by the wayside and new ways of doing things start to arise, let us ask ourselves some hard questions.

Overarching Issues

To start, we might ask three overarching wonderings:

1. What/who do our current practices promote/support?
2. What is working and should be perpetuated?
3. What should be disrupted or discontinued?

Digging a little deeper, one might want to look more specifically at students and their families by asking questions like the following.

Do our practices support students and families:

• With multiple students in a household?
• Where students live in multiple homes?
• Who are houseless or jobless?
• Where adults hold multiple jobs?
• Who are without reliable internet services or electronic devices?
• Who are not yet proficient in English?
• With a limited support network?

And yet, while we are all here to serve our students and their families, we cannot do that effectively without taking a look at the systems and supports available to our teachers. Here are just a few questions to help get that ball rolling:

• Do our professional development services support varying levels of tech readiness?
• Do our school communications address our multigenerational workplace?
• Do our systems differentiate support for the various stages of a teacher’s career (beginning teacher, 10-plus years, nearing retirement)?

If the answer to any of the above questions is a “no” it’s a green light for growth!

My hope is that schools will leverage this moment to redefine what we want school and education to be so that we can better serve our students, their families, and essentially our communities. We must re-examine our systems and practices, building a sense of belonging to ensure that we are not only supporting individuals but also harnessing the valuable resources each has to offer.

It is through our collective strengths that we will generate innovative solutions to meet unprecedented challenges.