Terms of engagement: Personal meaning and the professional lives of teachers

Across the chapters of this book, we have used the term "risk" in several ways. In the name we gave our basic developmental framework in chapter 4, it refers to "the uncertainty of outcome that children face as they make decisions about how to act within interpersonal relationships." When we speak about "risk factors," however, the term has an inherently negative connotation. These factors-poverty, disruption within the family, and racial or ethnic discrimination-when piled on the shoulders of an individual, often lead to poor life outcomes. In this context the phrase "risk-taking behavior" refers to those actions, such as chronic fighting, promiscuous sexual behavior, and addiction to cigarettes, drugs, or alcohol, that most often prove to be dangerous to the individual and to others. But when Angela Burgos uses the word "risk" in speaking of what she asks her students to do-and what she does herself as a teacher- its connotations are quite different: she is referring to the healthy risks we all must take if we are to grow as individuals and in our relationships with other people. She believes that it is a good thing for her students to stretch their academic abilities and for them-as for all of us-to dare to reveal personal thoughts and feelings. She also knows that her students need her support in taking these risks. Ms. Burgos knows that she is taking a chance in selecting a book like Felita for her class to discuss in depth. Many teachers might think the classroom is not an appropriate place for a fifth-grader to "get out" painful feelings. They might be concerned that children would become embarrassed or be put in a vulnerable position; they also might be worried that they would encounter problems they are not willing or qualified to deal with. And of course, they know that some parents might vigorously object on any number of grounds. On the other hand, selecting text materials for children to read and write about or discuss in class that they find boring and irrelevant is also inherently risky: the students may fall asleep in school and not wake up until it is too late. It should be acknowledged, however, that even when teachers work under the best of conditions-with manageable class sizes and good supports and resources-their professional lives are full of difficult choices and social dilemmas both large and small. In 1996 we asked a small group of teachers in Boston to take the risk of allowing us to observe in the classroom as they taught VLF, which was new to many of them. We also asked them to share with us their thoughts and feelings about their profession and about the effort to integrate literacy and values, that is, to connect reading and writing with the promotion of social competence and conflict resolution skills. In our conversations with these practitioners, we found that their reflections on why they had gone into teaching, and what kept them committed to it, seemed related in important ways to how willing they were to take on the challenge of an approach such as VLF-and how well they taught this curriculum. But as we entered their classrooms-and their lives-we did not yet have a firm place for any of this in our theoretical model of teachers' professional awareness. Fortunately, we did have our experience with the teachers in Reykjavík to build on.