How do we empower teachers to “buy in” to school-wide professional development? Often, schools have an annual theme for the entire school to focus on in their instructional practice. Just as often, school leadership comes together to brainstorm and finalize a topic or theme, while the voices of the teachers who are asked to solve these problems of practice are absent.

I have taught at four different public schools, some Teacher-Powered Schools and some not. This past school year, after starting at a new school, I noticed something different. Although we did not have a school-wide professional development theme, we had a district theme: scaffolding for rigor. At several of the schools where I have taught, staff have used inquiry cycles for professional development.

My mathematics department started by creating a “menu” of instructional math strategies for us to try and collect data on. This is a solid practice, as teachers have a choice in which instructional strategy they feel comfortable trying, collecting data on, and analyzing publicly with the department. Zones of proximal development apply to teachers, too! I remember being willing to try a new strategy, but not necessarily excited. As mentioned, the theme for the inquiry cycle was a top-down, predetermined decision. Did I feel empowered? Not quite yet.

Early in the school year, I noticed something I hadn’t quite noticed before: teachers stopping by each other’s classrooms before, during, or after class to debrief different lessons, connect about students, and simply check in.

“How are you doing?” one of my colleagues asked at the end of my first week at the school.

“How did that lesson go for you? What should I know going into the next period?” another colleague asked in October.

“Do we still want to do the card sort activity for tomorrow? I’m worried we won’t have time,” a third teacher asked.

Evidently, relationships were being built not only as we showed up as teachers, but also as humans first. We began checking in regularly, in small bites between classes. These bite-sized moments meant we had a pulse on each other’s well-being and knew how to take care of one another in this hard and heart work.

In February, on one of the first sunny days of the year, the other Algebra teachers and I went on a “walk and talk” during our shared prep period. We looped around a couple of classrooms, and each of us spent one minute sharing our teaching dilemmas, emotions, and even personal bits of our lives. After each person shared, there were no questions and no reactions. Just listening.

As our inquiry cycle continued throughout the year, we asked questions like, “Are you willing to try this strategy?” There was a strategy I had never tried before, but two other teachers wanted to try it. Because I had a positive relationship with my two colleagues, I was willing to try this strategy. I had “bought in” and even felt empowered because I knew that if the strategy didn’t go well or if I struggled to implement it, my colleagues would collaborate constructively with me to reflect on what happened and how to improve next time. I knew there would be no judgment of my ability as a teacher. I knew my colleagues would be there to catch me if things didn’t go as planned. The relational aspect of teacher improvement is embedded in teacher empowerment.

At the end of the year, my school had an obligatory showcase of our inquiry work from the year. Attendance at school-wide professional development had already been spotty throughout the year. Instructions for the showcase were unclear, and expectations for the presentation were not well-defined. In all honesty, I was not excited to participate in the showcase. I had grading, lesson planning, and a host of phone calls to make to families.

“Michelle, we would love your help with the introduction and conclusion of our inquiry presentation for this year,” one of my math teacher colleagues shared. I was being invited to contribute! But this didn’t feel like an invitation to do the work for the sake of doing the work. Because of the relationship I had built with this colleague throughout the year, I knew my ideas and contributions were valued. I felt invested and even empowered to share and represent my department’s learning from the year.

On the day of the showcase, a couple of teachers from each department showed up to present. But in the math department, every teacher showed up, either to present or to listen to others’ presentations. This speaks volumes about the importance of the relationships we had in the math department, where everyone felt the need to show up and support one another, even as audience members. As a presenter, I knew that if I forgot to mention something important, another colleague would jump in to offer additional reflections. Relationships matter.

When relationships are there, teachers buy in. We choose to show up for each other, not simply to check off an item on a list, but to take care of one another. That is where teacher-powered learning happens.