"Ewww. Poor kid."
Recently, I read a Facebook post where a Michigan tutor was working in a study room at her local library. Another tutor was working with a student and using Orton Gillingham and that was the poster's first thought. The second thought was, "That mother is wasting her money." Her third thought was, "I wonder if I can find her and tell her?"
If that isn't a textbook case of hubris then I don't know what is.
This tutor, who also stated that she has a background in public education, knew nothing about that particular student's learning challenges or background. Nor did she know anything about the tutor's background, years of experience, training or credentials and yet, she felt justified in expressing disgust over what she casually witnessed in her post.
This legislation in Michigan would require a dyslexia-trained (i.e. Orton-Gillingham) teacher in every school, but EBLI proponents are asking that the O-G language be removed. The program's creator argues that Orton-Gillingham doesn't work for every dyslexic student and that the state shouldn't mandate one particular approach.
Well . . . why don't they apply that same logic to their own program?
I'm not suggesting that tutors shouldn't feel strongly about the methods they use. I certainly do. And program fidelity is particularly important when you're inexperienced. You need to understand an approach thoroughly before deciding which parts warrant questioning.
But fidelity isn't blind faith.
The more experience I've gained, the more questions I've asked—not fewer. That's what expertise should allow us to do.
And that's what I find so troubling about what I'm seeing. If you're supremely confident that your program works, why would hard questions about it be threatening? Why would criticism need to be discouraged? A strong instructional approach should be able to withstand scrutiny.
When questions themselves become a threat, we're moving away from professional inquiry and toward ideology.
I don't want that for our field. I want tutors who can defend what they do, explain why they do it, recognize when they don't know something and remain willing to question even the approaches in which they've invested considerable time, money and training.
Blind faith doesn't make us better tutors. Hard questions do.
