Redefining Education Advocacy: What does it mean to be political?
By Deborah Lee, EdLoC member, Founder and CEO of Dancing Panda, and active leader in the League of Women Voters of New Jersey
I may not call myself a political person, but that doesn’t mean I’m not an advocate. I’m actually more political today than I’ve been in my entire life—though it’s not a primary part of my identity and only shows itself outside of my professional life.
I like to call myself a Jane of all trades—I’ve worked in U.S. K-12 education for close to 15 years, including as an Operations School Leader, a founding member of an education tech startup, and a Director of Talent Development for an education nonprofit. I’m also a parent.
Before the COVID-19 Pandemic, my professional and personal life collided when one of my daughters started elementary school. I realized I had no idea what she was learning in her classroom, despite working in the education field. I didn’t need to know the ins and outs of everything she was learning, but I did want to engage in her learning from home. So, I founded Dancing Panda, a service for families across the U.S. to bond with their kids through learning experiences. We send weekly text messages with 5- to 10-minute activities that reinforce what kids are learning in school while keeping parents and caregivers informed.
What I didn’t know at the time of founding Dancing Panda was that I would soon embark on my journey of becoming an advocate in my personal life. After living in New York for years, I moved to New Jersey, a new state with new politics. I didn’t have a strong sense of my new community’s issues, priorities, or players. Amid a pandemic, I knew I needed to be more informed on the education issues in my new home, so I started reading Board of Education meeting minutes—but I still needed to know more.
That’s when my friend, a former superintendent, connected me to the League of Women Voters. I joined the local Education committee in my new hometown and the state-level committee soon after. Now, I’m on the Board of Directors for the League of Women Voters of New Jersey, chair of the Board’s DEIB sub-committee, co-chair of the New Jersey State Education committee, and co-chair of my local League’s Education committee.
What started as a way for me to simply know what was happening in my community led to me becoming an advocate for my community. Being in an election year, the League of Women Voters of New Jersey is currently focused on getting the vote out. We’re working with Energizing Young Voters to support voter registration for the thousands of teenagers who are turning 18 before Election Day and want to be engaged but just don’t know how to be.
Working with youth who are starting their own political journeys reminds me of what I’ve learned since joining the League—advocacy looks different for everyone. When I first thought of a “political” person, I would say they’re someone who speaks loudly about issues they care about; they run for office; they’re an activist; or they’re someone who’s not afraid to talk about their opinions with people who don’t agree with them. I didn’t fit that mold as I have always shied away from debating issues.
My upbringing in a Chinese household influenced my disinclination for debate—I was raised to not question my elders—and definitely not to debate them—since it is considered disrespectful. Transitioning into my professional career, I struggled to become accustomed to American culture where debate is celebrated and encouraged among senior leaders.
The League provided me with a low risk place outside of work to expand my advocacy skills in this context and learn what being an advocate can look like for me. While some might call it code-switching—which can come at the expense of your own cultural identity—I have found that it is really about expanding my toolbox as a leader. I learned that sometimes it is better to hold back and listen, while at other times it’s important to advocate for yourself or an issue or your community. The League helped me gain experience in studying a policy issue, forming an opinion, and having the confidence to make a decision on where I stand. Not only that: being an advocate helped me become a more informed member of my community and taught me how to be a smarter leader.
While I still don’t see myself as an advocate in a professional sense, my work in the League has expanded my knowledge of the context in which I work professionally in the parent engagement space—from debates about “parents' rights” to book bans. There is a systemwide context that we can’t be afraid to engage with to be more savvy education leaders.
I’m saying this during an undeniably important election season. Even as most eyes are focused on the presidential race, elections at the state and local levels are what directly impact what happens in your neighborhood and school, which is why it’s so important to be informed.
I urge everyone to find out what’s happening in their own communities—and to not stop once the November election is over. It’s imperative that we stay civically engaged in our communities so we don’t lose momentum. Remember this: there will always be opportunities to be an education leader and advocate for the policies you believe in.
This article was written by Deborah Lee, a proud member of EdLoC. Deb joined her local League of Women Voters in 2020 and currently serves on the Board of Directors for the League of Women Voters of New Jersey, chair of the Board’s DEIB sub-committee, co-chair of the New Jersey State Education committee, and co-chair of my local League’s Education committee. Deb is also the Founder and CEO of Dancing Panda, an education technology startup focused on parent and family engagement.