Troy Hutchings, Ed.D.
Senior Policy Advisor, NASDTEC

"All" Means All - It Really is that Simple

The school administrator was visibly frustrated.

“I’m afraid our school board may not adopt the Model Code of Ethics for Educators because of the second half of a singular sentence,” he said during a recent workshop on educator ethics. “They would fully embrace the MCEE if Standard III.B.2 ended after the clause, ‘Respecting the dignity, worth and uniqueness of each individual student’. But it doesn’t,” he said.

Sadly, he may very well be right. The phrase “each individual student” is certainly conventional – an expected clause within any schooling document. After all, it reinforces the democratic ideal that an equal and equitable education is available to all students.

Until, of course, it is not.

And that is why it is so important for Standard III.B.2 to be read in its entirety – it explicitly identifies unique student characteristics which, in some cases, have resulted in marginalization:

Respecting the dignity, worth and uniqueness of each individual student including, but not limited to, actual and perceived gender, gender expression, gender identity, sexual orientation, civil status, family status, religion, age, disability, race, ethnicity, socioeconomic context and culture (MCEE III.B.2).

Unequivocally and with a moral clarity, Standard III.B.2 provides a not-so-gentle reminder that “each individual student” means all students.

For some, that may be a bridge too far.

Imposing personal values and beliefs into our work – at the expense of professional norms – is dangerous territory. This becomes especially troublesome when the “dignity, worth, and uniqueness of each individual student” becomes politicized.

And that’s precisely why professional norms, such as the Model Code of Ethics for Educators, are so important.

The Model Code of Ethics for Educators utilizes the word “students” 33 times without any delineation – meaning every single individual student. The Code then specifically utilizes the phrase “all students” five times to be perfectly clear on issues where there should be no ambiguity:

• Equitable educational opportunities for all students (II.A.3),
• Acts in the best interest of all students (II.C.),
• Respects the rights and dignity of all students (III.A),
• Promotes the emotional, intellectual, physical and sexual safety of all students (III.B.3), and
• Advocating for equal access to technology for all students (V.D.1).

And then, of course, the MCEE goes one step further in Standard III.B.2 – ensuring there is absolutely no question or equivocation that “all” does indeed mean all.          

Among professional educators, there should be no debate about our ethical duty to every student in our school community. Precedent-setting court cases and legislative action have clarified, and continue to clarify, the notion that “all students” means all students: 

• Gender Expression and Identity? Consider brushing up on Whitaker v. Kenosha (2017), Glouster v. Grimm (2018), Bostock v. Clayton County (2020) and the expansion of Title IX (2014) to include gender expression and Identity.

• Students with Disabilities? Google the Education for All Handicapped Children Act (1975) and the subsequent laws that are part of the authorization of the Individuals with Disabilities Act (IDEA).

• Children of Immigrants? Take some time and read Plyler v. Doe (1982). The Supreme Court declared that all young people, regardless of documentation status, have a right to public education.

• Gender? Don’t forget the oft-discussed Title IX (1972) which protects students from gender discrimination.

• Race, Ethnicity and Socioeconomic Considerations? Trace the judicial activity stemming from the 1954 landmark decision in Brown v. Board of Education.

• Equal Protection? Let’s not forget the Equal Protection Clause of the 14^th Amendment (1868) guaranteeing equal protection under the law – which of course, includes students.

And there are so many more.

If judicial and legislative activity has settled the issue – that “all” does indeed mean all – then why does the Model Code of Ethics for Educators repeatedly emphasize the importance of the “all”?

Societal acceptance of the concepts of full inclusion and equitable treatment has been, and continues to be, a protracted struggle – often unfolding in a public and agitated manner.

Just ask the school administrator from the educator ethics workshop who clearly understood the political realities triggered by the specificity of language contained within Standard III.B.2 of the education profession’s code of ethics.

Recently, I read an article which illustrates the importance of extending unconditional professional care to all students and their families:

When district superintendent Janice Adams was approached by a mother asking for support for her kindergarten child who was born male but had identified as a girl, Adams wrote: “… while I hadn’t dealt with a situation like this before, I believed every child had the right to feel safe, welcomed and valued, and I would work with the family to make sure we supported her child. I never had a political agenda; my agenda was to support our students. I worked to be an advocate, not an activist. If your experience is anything like my own, you will be in unfamiliar — perhaps even uncomfortable — territory. It is important, however, that your own personal uncertainties do not interfere with your ability to do the right thing to protect the safety and well-being of these vulnerable children.”[1]

Superintendent Adams’ narrative directly echoes the words encapsulated in the previously mentioned MCEE standards.[2] But just as importantly, she didn’t hesitate to do the “right thing” – unflinching in her care – irrespective of the situation and the uniqueness of students.

Our role as professional educators – regardless of the political realities and personal uncertainties – requires us to remain steadfast to the calling that propels our life’s work.  While decisions about the adoption of the Model Code of Ethics for Educators are often made at levels where politics is a factor, educators have an ethical obligation to all students irrespective of the Code’s formal adoption. The MCEE does not create ethical duties for educators – instead, it organizes and ratifies ethical standards that are innate to the teaching profession.

For the sake of all students.

[1] Orr A, Baum J, Brown J, et al.: Schools in transition: A guide for supporting transgender students in K-12 schools. National Center for Lesbian Rights, Gender Spectrum, HRC Foundation, the American Civil Liberties Union, and the National Education Association, 2015.

[2] MCEE Standards II.A.3, II.C., III.A., III.B.2, III.B.3

Troy Hutchings, Ed.D.
Senior Policy Advisor, NASDTEC                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                

Regardless of Role

Let’s be perfectly honest. 

It’s not very often all school district employees – classified and certified –  are provided the opportunity to join together as colleagues for a day of professional learning.

Yet, that is precisely what happened.

Every person employed by the district – without regard to position, level of education, certification or salary – participated in a recent workshop on professional ethics and the Model Code of Ethics for Educators.

Teachers and administrators were present, but so were bus drivers, food service workers, custodians, maintenance workers, school receptionists, instructional aides and office personnel. The entire district hit the pause button to participate in conversations regarding professional vulnerabilities and risks. The District Superintendent was candid in his approach: “We are educators. We are all educators.”

Does our profession’s code of ethics speak to the everyday realities of attending to the physical needs of a school’s building? Or serving lunch to middle school students? Or transporting high school athletes to a competition? Would the conversations be authentic? And what about perceived barriers that may exist between roles and hierarchical structures? Just as importantly, does the topic of professional ethics have the potential to be a ‘tie that binds’? Those were some of the questions I asked myself prior to facilitating the workshop.

But it didn’t take long to discover that remarkable similarities exist across uniquely dissimilar roles.

Custodians, as well as field trip chaperones and coaches, become holders of privileged information simply by being surrounded by students outside of structured environments. Bus drivers and teachers supervise minors while simultaneously juggling myriad high-stakes responsibilities. Food service personnel and instructional assistants often interact with students informally and holistically. School receptionists, office staff and school administrators publicly represent the school’s mission amid numerous high stress competing tensions. And in a small community, where multiple relationships exist organically, there are added layers of challenge for every single employee.

Such issues engender a range of ethical considerations – regardless of role. The collective conversations on that day were rich and meaningful, and the Model Code of Ethics for Educators became a catalyst in clarifying professional responsibilities.

And that’s just the beginning.

I couldn’t help but think about the language embedded within Standard IV.B.1 of the Model Code of Ethics for Educators: “Respecting colleagues as fellow professionals and maintaining civility …” By placing the emphasis on professional alliance, Standard IV.B.1 gives priority to shared practitioner norms as opposed to focusing on differing individual or role-specific values. This distinction underscores the responsibilities which unite all schooling employees.

It is important to note the phrase respecting as fellow professionals is paired with the phrase maintaining civility. The word “civility” is derived from the Latin word ‘civis’ which means ‘citizen.’[1] Quite literally, civility applies to one who fulfills the duty of a citizen – and as employees within the schooling community, our citizenship is rooted in shared professional norms, values and responsibilities.

But there is another aspect to professional citizenship.

It was abundantly clear the workshop participants – whether they were classroom teachers, school counselors, bus drivers, district administrators or custodians – cared deeply about the local community. The ethos of professional ethics goes well beyond merely adhering to established professional norms when making decisions. It also entails a higher threshold of responsibility – our professional commitment to the welfare and betterment of the community in which we live.

All too often we attach the label ‘educator’ only to individuals who hold licenses – or at the very least work directly with students. Certainly, there may be times when such distinctions have merit.

But thanks to a thoughtful District Superintendent, we all learned a simple but illuminating truth during that workshop. Professional ethics has the potential to cultivate agency by providing all employees the opportunity to collectively shoulder the complexities inherent to the schooling community – a shared citizenship regardless of role.

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Troy Hutchings, Ed.D.

Senior Policy Advisor, NASDTEC

The Emerging Playbook: Reexamining Professional Obligations in a Virtual Classroom

Part V – Ignorance of Technology is no Excuse

Since technological competence is routinely articulated in many of our professional standards, it would be understandable to question its relationship to professional ethics. After all, today's technology is intuitive, right? We don’t even need instruction manuals for our new computing devices.

But on a most basic level, professional ethics often asks a simple question – what could possibly go wrong?

The fallout from a technological gaffe was on full display this past month in a California community. An entire school board resigned after members of the board criticized and mocked parents in a virtual Zoom meeting not realizing their conversation was being live-streamed to the public .[i]

We all know the pace of technological innovation in education is accelerating at a seemingly staggering pace — but how often do we consider the issues likely to emerge around user naiveté, carelessness or even incompetence?

When I started teaching nearly 40 years ago, tech-competence consisted of successfully operating the most advanced pedagogical tools of the day – mimeograph machines, tape recorders, record players, overhead projectors, and what I found most difficult to master, 16-millimeter film projectors.

Missteps in utilizing yesterday’s technological tools may have resulted in a few minutes of lost instructional time, or at worst, a botched lesson plan. But rarely would they damage an educator’s career, put students at risk or erode trust in our profession. Clearly, the stakes are much higher in the contemporary schooling environment.

In Part V of our blog series focusing on ethical issues related to the virtual classroom, I asked cyber expert Frederick Lane[ii] to offer his thoughts on the risks and implications of technological ignorance.

Ignorance of Technology Is No Excuse

Frederick Lane

Schools and educators stand in loco parentis to their students and, accordingly, have an unequivocal duty to minimize the risk of various types of harm that children might suffer in school. Until recently, this duty has been more pressing for some educators than others: I look back on my high school shop classes with mild disbelief that I didn’t lose a finger to a band saw, lawnmower, or welding torch. My English and Latin classes were much less immediately threatening.

But the incredibly rapid adoption of technology has expanded the duty of care for educators and school districts. Not every classroom has a table saw, but virtually all have Internet-capable devices or wireless access for personal connectivity. Even a casual reader of the news is aware that the damage that electronic devices can inflict may be as severe—if not worse—than a mishap with shop tools.

Teachers who regularly use woodworking tools, chemistry equipment, or other potentially injurious equipment don’t do so, of course, without adequate training. But virtually all teachers are expected to incorporate or supervise the use of Internet-enabled technology into their classrooms. Unfortunately, the training teachers receive on any given piece of technology typically ranges from cursory to incomplete.

Every educator has an individual ethical obligation to ensure that their use of technology furthers their “ethic of care” regarding student health and safety. That imposes a duty on each educator to understand the technology they use in the class and the potential risks that can stem from its use. At the same time, school districts and administrators should aid teachers and staff in better understanding how classroom technology can be used or abused.

As Cicero might have put it, ignorantia technology operator non excusat.

 

There is a line in Fred’s commentary that warrants highlighting – “The incredibly rapid adoption of technology has expanded the duty of care for educators and school districts.”

Quite simply, duty of care refers to the practitioner's obligation to avoid acts which could foreseeably cause harm – to students, our own careers, our schools and our profession. Or as Fred so eloquently states, “… a duty on each educator to understand the technology they use in the class and the potential risks that can stem from its use.”

Practitioner competence in all areas – including technology – defines the context by which society enters a trusting relationship with the education profession.

After all, we act in the public’s interest in everything we do.

No excuses. Period.