top of page
Search

Teachers Need Opportunities to Learn, Too


ree

Hello,


In the post, "Opportunity to Succeed," I wrote about how teachers create learners, how John Hattie’s work reminds us that educators are the reason literacy rates rose from 14% to 86% over the past century. Teachers are the professionals who design opportunities for students every day.


But what about the opportunity to learn for teachers themselves?


If we believe teachers are the reason students learn, then we must also believe that teachers deserve the same opportunities to learn that they so carefully create for their students.


The Space Between Expert and Learner

When I work with teachers, I often describe them as experts, but the idea that they are an "expert" makes many uncomfortable. They’ll say, “I’m not an expert; I still have so much to learn.” That tension, the space between expertise and growth, isn’t a flaw. It’s a feature of professionalism.


In her book You Don’t Have to Be Bad to Get Better, Candi B. McKay explores this very idea. She argues that professional growth doesn’t come from remediation or deficit; it comes from curiosity. The title itself reframes improvement as something proactive and affirming: we get better not because we’re bad, but because we’re capable of more.


When teachers see themselves as learners, not because they’re lacking but because they’re leading, they create a culture where learning is expected, not remedial. That’s the mindset of a true expert, someone who knows enough to know there’s always more to know.


Interestingly, I once worked in a district where teachers appeared to resist learning and growth. When each school in the district was told they had to create an “improvement” plan, not because they were bad but because, as a district, we were focusing on growth, there was resistance.


Here’s the question: why was there resistance? Did the teachers really believe they didn’t need to improve, or was something else going on?


Learning Requires Safety

Of course, saying “keep learning” is easier than doing it. Real learning requires psychological safety, the belief that you can take risks, admit mistakes, and ask questions without fear of embarrassment or punishment.


In The Fearless Organization, Amy Edmondson explains the importance of psychological safety. The costs of psychological safety are priceless. Watch this video to better understand why this is so important.



When people feel safe, they’re honest. When they’re honest, they learn. When they learn, they improve.


The same is true for schools. Silence among staff isn’t a sign of agreement; it’s often a sign of fear. The absence of questions doesn’t mean everyone understands; it may mean no one feels safe enough to ask. Teachers need to feel safe in their learning if they’re going to create classrooms where students feel safe in theirs.


What Psychological Safety Really Looks Like

Psychological safety doesn’t begin in a single meeting; it’s built over time. It’s not created by one perfectly worded message, but through consistent daily actions that show people they are safe to be honest, curious, and imperfect.


Imagine two versions of the same improvement plan process.


In one, a leader announces, “Each team needs to write an improvement plan.” The air in the room tightens. Teachers worry that this will be used to judge, not to learn. Even if the leader’s intentions are good, past experiences—times when feedback became evaluation or questions were met with defensiveness—linger quietly beneath the surface.


In another school, that same request is met differently, not because the words are better, but because the culture is different. Long before that meeting, the leader had made it safe to speak honestly. When someone admits a misstep, it’s treated as a chance to learn, not a reason for shame. Curiosity is met with appreciation, not irritation. Appreciation is expressed often. Feedback is reciprocal. So when that leader says, “Each team needs to write an improvement plan,” teachers embrace it. They contribute ideas. They trust that an “improvement plan” isn’t code for “teachers suck,” but an opportunity to collaborate on what’s next.


The second school exemplifies psychological safety. It’s not the meeting itself; it’s all the moments before and after that make the meeting about improvement safe rather than scary.


The Opportunity to Learn for Everyone

This brings us full circle to Hattie’s point: teachers create learning. True. However, their best results come when they, themselves, are learners; when their schools provide the time, trust, and conditions for growth. Professionalism isn’t about perfection. It’s about practice. It’s about the courage to say, “I don’t know yet,” and the confidence to add, “but I’m learning.”


Opportunity to learn, for students and for teachers alike, depends on a culture where reflection is valued, vulnerability is supported, and growth is expected. When educators feel safe enough to stretch, question, and try again, they model for students what true learning looks like. That’s what turns good schools into great ones, communities where everyone, adults and children alike, has the opportunity to learn.


~Heather


P.S. This week, I’m catching my person, Melissa Laun. Today is her birthday, and that alone is reason enough to celebrate, but she’s also someone worth celebrating every day.

If you’ve watched Grey’s Anatomy, you know the phrase “my person.” It describes the person who knows you best, stands by you through everything, and loves you enough to tell you the truth when you need it most. That’s Melissa for me. She’s the steady voice, the honest mirror, the laughter when things get heavy, and the reminder that connection is what makes the work—and life—worth it.


Happy birthday, Melissa. Thank you for being my person. The world (and my world) is better because of you.


P.P.S. Please remember to...


Like and share this post

Check out other posts 


Buy and rate your copy of Engagement is Not Unicorn (It's a Narwhal)

From Amazon or Barnes & Noble


 
 
 

Comments


bottom of page