How to Talk So Your Child’s Teacher Will Listen: Using Collaborative & Proactive Solutions in Advocacy

Advocacy can feel like a fight you didn’t ask for. And one you’re not sure you’ll win.

You speak up.
You write the email.
You wait.

And still, your child struggles. Alone.

When the only remaining option feels like a human rights complaint, one that could take years, it is easy to feel hopeless. But our children don’t have years. They deserve support now.

We cannot afford to wait. We need advocacy that works today. In real time. In real classrooms.

We cannot wait for the government while our children fall through the cracks. This is not about making excuses for teachers or overlooking the lack of real change in policy and funding. But while we keep pushing for systemic reform, there are steps we can take now. Small shifts in approach can move us in a better direction, and they can make a real difference for your child.

Let’s talk about how.

Start by remembering that most teachers did not get into education to harm kids. Many are caught in the same system that is failing your child. They are overworked, under-supported, and often stretched beyond capacity. But that does not excuse inaction, and it does not mean you should stay silent.

You do not have to wait for an IEP meeting to begin advocating. You do not need permission to talk about accommodations. And you do not need to pretend things are "fine" until they get worse.

Be proactive. Reach out early, before the year spirals. Send an email to introduce yourself and share who your child is: their strengths, their needs, and their diagnosis, if relevant. Don’t assume it’s already in their file or that the teacher has read last year’s documentation; often, they haven’t.

Some educators prefer to “start fresh” and get to know students before reviewing files. While well-intentioned, this can leave children unsupported during critical early weeks. For a child who has already faced exclusion or distress, starting fresh can feel like starting over.

Be clear in what you are asking for. Clear is kind. You don’t need to be passive. You can acknowledge the realities many teachers face and still state directly what accommodations your child is legally entitled to. Name the diagnosis, if there is one. Note what has worked in the past. Keep it brief but specific, and directly reference accommodations. A clear, respectful message sets the tone for collaboration. When teachers are met with early communication that balances empathy with firm expectations, it opens the door to partnership rather than conflict.

Try to keep your communication focused directly on the teacher whenever possible. You do not need to copy the entire support team on your first email. Involving the principal or other staff too early can feel like an ambush. It shifts the tone. Teachers stop listening and start defending.

It also helps to understand that the person who writes the IEP is usually not the classroom teacher. Often, the plan can feel imposed on the teacher by someone who is not in the room day to day. This disconnect can create tension, which is why it is typically best to work first with the people directly involved in your child’s daily learning.

When we approach situations by looking for realistic solutions, we are often more effective and resourceful. Solutions built in collaboration with the classroom teacher are far more likely to be implemented and to last than those that feel externally imposed. At the same time, it is important to remember that teacher autonomy does not outweigh human rights. Students’ rights to accommodation and inclusion must always take precedence.

Be respectful. If a teacher feels threatened by a parent in any way, they will involve the union. And the union will protect them. Always.

It is also important to recognize the emotional landscape of these conversations. It is easy to interpret a short email, a rigid response, or a lack of follow-up as resistance. But instead of trying to read into every reaction, focus on building a relationship rooted in empathy and mutual respect.

Just as we are learning to see student behavior as a form of communication, often shaped by stress, unmet needs, or trauma, we can apply that same lens to the adults. A terse reply does not always signal hostility. Often, it reflects the weight of an overloaded system and a person stuck in survival mode.

This does not mean we excuse dismissiveness or minimize harm. But if we respond with curiosity rather than judgment, we create the conditions for trust and collaboration. Advocacy is not about decoding every tone or defending every ask. It is about holding the relationship steady enough for growth to happen, for both the student and the teacher.

Accommodations are not a one-size-fits-all checklist. What works for one child, one diagnosis, or even one school year may not work now. The most effective supports are those that are both realistic and mutually satisfactory. They need to meet your child’s needs and also be workable within the teacher’s classroom context.

There are many well-intentioned teachers who truly care about their students, but who also have limited understanding of disability and legal rights. And yes, they are in positions of power, which means the responsibility rests on them. It doesn’t help that their employers often keep them scared and compliant by invoking fiduciary duty and using it as a threat rather than a framework for accountability.

Does the education system need a complete overhaul? Possibly. More funding? Most likely. But neither seems to be on the horizon, and our students do not have time to wait.

One approach that can help bridge this gap is the Collaborative and Proactive Solutions (CPS) model, developed by Dr. Ross Greene. At the heart of CPS is the belief that kids do well if they can. That truth also applies to adults. When teachers do not meet expectations, it is rarely because they do not want to. More often, the expectations have exceeded their capacity to respond adaptively. CPS shifts the focus from blame to problem-solving, creating solutions that are realistic, durable, and built in partnership.

Doing well means being able to meet the expectations placed on us. For teachers, that means creating inclusive environments and implementing accommodations in classrooms that are often stretched by large class sizes, inadequate support, and limited resources. In these conditions, expectations can easily exceed capacity. It is not a matter of will, it is a matter of skill. Adults need support to build those skills, but students should not be the ones paying the price while the system stalls.

If we approach advocacy as a collaborative, problem-solving conversation rather than a list of demands, we are far more likely to build solutions that work, that last, and that truly support your child.

Start the conversation early.
Speak with clarity.
Lead with collaboration.
Build partnerships.

Advocacy is not just about getting support in place. It is about teaching our children that their voice matters. When we advocate with clarity, compassion, and conviction, we show them that it is possible to speak with both strength and respect.

We empower them to understand their rights, to ask for what they need, and to expect to be treated with dignity.

Every time we speak up firmly, collaboratively, and without shame, we model what it looks like to challenge a system while holding on to our humanity. We show them that change is possible, not because we demand it, but because we believe in something better. For them, and for every child who follows.

The system is stuck. It is rigid, tangled in policy, law, and bureaucracy that often keeps real change just out of reach. But what if we could move around it instead of through it? What if advocacy did not have to mean waiting for meetings, filing appeals, or referencing legal obligations just to be heard?

Real change does not start with paperwork. It starts with people. With relationships. With collaboration.

Imagine if inclusion was not something we had to fight for, but something we built together. One conversation at a time.

When we shift the way we advocate and lead with connection instead of confrontation, we create a path forward that policy alone cannot unlock.

Sustainable progress will never come from systems alone. It must be rooted in people and in the relationships we are willing to build.