Author: Devon Clarke

In my previous post I shared a definition of background knowledge. I then provided insight to how background knowledge differs from prior knowledge, and I briefly explained why part of our work as educators involves helping student gain the background knowledge they need to engage with the texts we use to teach. I also explained how when students learn new vocabulary and information because of reading one text, it further expands the background knowledge they need to read other texts. In this post, I’ll share two instructional strategies I plan to use to support students in gaining the background knowledge they need to read. I’ll also share a quick and easy assessment strategy to gain insight to students’ background knowledge on a topic. My hope is that the ideas and information I provide may be useful for other educators. The tips below are in no specific order.

1. Read Aloud to Students to Help Build their Background Knowledge and Vocabulary

In the book, What the Science of Reading Says about Reading Comprehension and Content Knowledge, authors Jennifer Jump and Kathleen Kopp explain that decades of research highlight how regularly reading aloud to students helps them to build the background knowledge and vocabulary needed to support learning about a topic. They further go on to say when selecting a text for a read-aloud educators should choose texts that are challenging and rigorous to expose students to new vocabulary and information.

Jump and Kopp note that while students may struggle to decode and comprehend the text independently, having them listen and not decode reduces the cognitive load for students so they can focus on making sense of the story and/or information. As a result, the listening experience provides students with opportunities to engage with rich content, exposes them to new vocabulary, and adds to their knowledge about a topic. This year, read alouds will be a central part of my classroom program for the reasons mentioned above. To support, I’ll use the Read Aloud Routine for Improving Vocabulary and Comprehension resource that I found on the ONlit.org website; this resource provides educators with a step-by-step read-aloud guide to help them with their read-aloud routine.

2. Use Coherent and Cohesive Texts

In the article, The Role of Background Knowledge in Reading Comprehension: A Critical Review, researchers Reid Smith, Pamela Snow, Tanya Serry and Lorraine Hammond explain that the cohesion and coherence of a text determines how much background knowledge a reader needs to understand it. They go on to say that low-coherence and low-cohesion texts requires a reader to possess more background knowledge to understand it because the author or authors are writing for an audience that they assume possess enough knowledge about the topic to understand the contents so they spend less time explaining the meaning of certain words or clarifying certain ideas. On the opposite side, texts with high-coherence and high-cohesion requires less background knowledge because the author or authors make direct connections between concepts and ideas that connect sentence with paragraphs that span the entire text. Meaning, they spend more time defining vocabulary and clarifying ideas for readers.

To support all students in my class, but particularly those who may have low-levels of background knowledge and gaps in their foundational reading skills, I plan to use texts with high-coherence and high-cohesion to support building their background knowledge on a topic. One text that immediately comes to mind is the young readers edition of The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind by William Kamkwamba and Bryan Mealer. In this memoir, the authors chronicle Kamkwamba’s experience as a 13-year-old boy who constructs a windmill out of scrap material to bring water and electricity to his rural village in Malawi. Because the authors use a lot of scientific and technical vocabulary to describe Kamkwamba’s process of constructing the windmill and the memoir is intended for an adolescent audience, the text is written in a highly coherent and cohesive way to ensure it is accessible to young readers. While the Science and Technology curriculum is not part of my teaching assignment, I think helping students acquire the rich vocabulary and information about the scientific process may be useful for other texts that I may use with them during the year.

3. Pose Questions to Assess and Activate Background Knowledge

Again, in the book, What the Science of Reading Says about Reading Comprehension and Content Knowledge, Jump and Kopp write, “Before reading any text, teachers can and should first activate students’ background knowledge”. Activating students’ background knowledge honours the knowledge that they bring to the classroom, provides teachers with insight to what student already know and what they need to learn, and reveals potential misinformation that needs to be clarified. Posing questions is one way that educators can assess and activate students background knowledge on a topic.

For example, when thinking about my history program which is a language-based subject, I’m thinking about using the book 21 Things You May Not Know About the Indian Act: Helping Canadians Make Reconciliation with Indigenous People a Reality, by Bob Joseph. I think this book will help me to explicitly teach overall expectation A3. Understanding Historical Context: Events and Their Consequences where students will need to describe how various people and events contributed to the development of Canada between 1850 and 1890. Some the events listed in the overall expectation include the development of the Indian Act and the establishment of treaties between Indigenous Nations and the Crown. To gain insight to what students already know about the Indian Act or treaties, I may ask them simple direct questions like, has anyone ever heard of the Indian Act or a treaty? Or tell me one thing you have heard or know about either the Indian Act or a treaty? I may choose to do this as a whole class discussion or have students work in small groups so they can discuss and build on their collective knowledge before sharing their responses. From their individual and collective responses, I’ll gain insight to what next steps I need to take to inform my lesson preparation and instruction. Meaning, what background knowledge do students need to acquire before we/they read excerpts from the book.

In my previous post, I shared a definition of critical consciousness, along with insights on how it is similar and different from critical thinking skills. I also shared why I think providing meaningful opportunities for students to develop their critical consciousness is important. In this post, I’ll provide an example of how I supported students in exercising their critical consciousness while also helping them to develop their writing skills.

Years ago, while living overseas, I worked as an English foreign language teacher. During that time, I recall working with a diverse group of adolescent students who helped me to understand the importance of providing meaningful opportunities for students to exercise their critical consciousness. While working with this group of students, I routinely began classes with what I called, chats and check-ins. Our chats and check-ins involved engaging students in conversations about how they spent the previous evening, their plans for the week, or current events. This served multiple functions. Some of them included establishing and nurturing relationships with and between students; helping me gain an understanding of student interests, experiences, cultures, and identities so I could create a program that supported their learning needs; nurturing a community of care, and providing meaningful opportunities for them to practice their oral communication skills.

During one of our morning chats and check-ins, some students began complaining about the school facilities which sparked a whole class discussion. Students complained that the WIFI and other computer technology rarely worked, the textbooks we used were dated, the facilities appeared old and shabby, the washrooms were unclean, and the list went on. Listening to their concerns I empathized with them because their concerns were valid. I also knew that many staff members shared similar complaints. I recall one student questioning how he and others were expected to learn within an environment that lacked essential resources or be expected to academically perform within such an uninviting physical space?

Recognizing the validity of their critiques and wanting to support them in exercising their agency, I suggested they write a formal letter of complaint to the school administration. I explained to them that within communities, formal letters of complaint to political leaders had the potential to effect change due to concerned citizens taking the time and effort to draw attention to a community issue and demanding the issue be resolved. I also explained that identifying or complaining about the issue is not enough; they needed to identify what they want to see changed and recommend solutions. I concluded by saying, if they wanted to write a letter of complaint to our school administration, they needed to identify the issues, explain why the issues are concerning then request what they want to see changed and offer possible solutions.

They liked the suggestion. Then for the next week we spent most of our class time drafting, revising, and editing their letters of complaint. To support students, I helped them to define the success criteria, modeled the letter writing process and format, and provided both oral and written constructive feedback at all stages of their writing process. When all students had completed their letters, I delivered them to the school administration.

Weeks later, one of the school administrators visited the class to thank the students for their letters and further discuss their concerns. At the end of the conversation, she committed to working with the school administration team to rectify the issues. In the proceeding months improvements were made to the school. The WIFI worked more consistently, new and updated textbooks were added to the school, and the washrooms were regularly cleaned.

In one of our morning chats and check-ins following these events, we had a discussion where students shared that they were both happy and surprised to see that their complaints were taken seriously and that their letters worked to effect change.

From the experience, I came to better understand that adolescent students are often engaged in serious thinking about their lives, communities, and the spaces where they live and learn. They are also thinking critically about the inequities and injustices present within their lives and communities. The experience also taught me that students need support in understanding that the inequities and injustice they witness and experience need not be tolerated because they possess a critical consciousness that can aid them in effecting change. I see my role as teacher and the role of other teachers is to help student develop their critical consciousness so they not only think critically about the status quo but understanding they can change it through intentional actions.

To better understand how to support the creation of safer schools for two-spirit, lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, questioning, and additional identities (2SLGBTQ+) educators, this past spring, I enrolled in a course titled Gender, Sexuality and Schooling. This twelve-week course consolidated into six-weeks focused on matters of equity, inclusion, and school reform in relation to sexual orientation, gender identity, and gender expression among students, families, and educators in Ontario elementary and secondary schools.

During the course, I intentionally chose to focus on learning ways to support 2SLGBTQ+ educators rather than students or families for two reasons. First, as a member of the community I understand that 2SLGBTQ+ educators working within publicly funded school boards do not receive the same or similar levels of support as 2SLGBTQ+ students or families; I believe this in large part may be due to the position that 2SLGBTQ+ educators occupy. Meaning, because they are university educated adults, employed by a publicly funded school board, and part of a union, some may think 2SLGBTQ+ educators already have the knowledge, skills, and support needed to navigate homophobic, biphobic, and transphobic school spaces. Others may see no need to offer support if there are no known 2SLGBTQ+ educators on staff.

Second, from personal and professional experiences in addition to reading the findings from a  2020 Ontario Ministry of Education Review of my school board and a 2023 Employment Systems Review also of my board, I knew that 2SLGBTQ+ educators within my school board were likely to experience forms of homophobia, biphobia, and/or transphobia that negatively impacted their working conditions. As a result, in general, 2SLGBTQ+ educators have deemed schools in my board to be unsafe spaces for them to be out.

In this post, I’ll share an insight that I gained from my course that focuses on the significance of a legislation and policies. I’ll also explain why legislation and policies alone are insufficient supports when it comes to creating safer schools for 2SLGBTQ+ educators. My hope is that the ideas contained in this,  post will aid others who strive to support the work of creating safer schools for 2SLGBTQ+ educator colleagues.

To begin, I’ll clarify the phrase safe schools. To support, I’ll draw on a definition of safe school planning from an article I read during my course titled, Safe, Positive, and Queering Moments in Teacher Education and Schooling: A Conceptual Framework by Tara Goldstein, Vanessa Russell, and Andrea Daley. In the article the authors share that, safe school planning is defined as systematic process to create and maintain a place where students can learn, and teachers can teach in a warm welcoming environment free from intimidation or fear. They further go on say that in the province of Ontario, the Safe Schools Act exemplifies this approach.

Thinking about the safe school planning definition above in collaboration with other institutional documents, I recognize that Ontario schools have the potential to be warm welcoming environments free from intimidation and fear for 2SLGBTQ+ educators due to the Safe Schools Act, ETFO policies, and the human right’s policies and procedures that are part of each school board’s operational guides. For example, under the School Rules: Provincial Code of Conduct section of the Education Act, it states that all students and community members must respect and treat others fairly regardless of their sex, gender identity, gender expression, or sexual orientation.

Policy 88.1 focused on the 2SLGBTQ+ community in ETFO’s Policy Statement document advocates that school boards update their current policy and procedures to ensure the safety and prosperity of 2SLGBTQ+ educators, students, parents, and guardians. ETFO’s policy 88.2 also advocates that members who are 2SLGBTQ+ have the right to an inclusive and respectful working environment that adheres to the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms and the Ontario Human Rights Code.

Within my school board, policy 51, focused on human rights, outlines the board’s commitment to providing an inclusive learning and working environment that is free from prejudice and discrimination, upholds the Ontario Human Rights Code, takes intentional steps to actively encourage and foster a culture of respect, dignity, and acknowledges the inherent worth and value of all people and communities.

If the legislation and/or policies I mentioned above are new or unfamiliar, you may consider reviewing them beginning with your board’s human right’s policy because every educator has a responsibility to know and uphold human rights. Your board’s policy should be easily accessible by doing a quick search in your board’s internal employee website. Your principal and/or superintendent should also be familiar with this document, and either be able to provide you with a copy or provide guidance on where you can obtain one.

The significance of this legislation and these policies is that they ensure the human rights of 2SLGBTQ+ educators are protected because they recognize the historical hurt and harm that educators from these communities have experienced in the absence of legislation and policies being in place within and beyond schools. Legislations and policies further remind all educational stakeholders that forms of homophobia, biphobia, transphobia, and an intolerance for diverse forms of gender identity and expression are intolerable within Ontario’s publicly funded schools.

Yet, while I recognize the inherent value and need for legislation and policies to be in place to protect 2SLGBTQ+ educators, I also understand that legislation and policies alone are insufficient without them being put into practice. Meaning, for legislation and policies to be effective, educators from within and beyond the 2SLGBTQ+ community must work to ensure that laws and rules become institutionalized through practices so that educators from these communities can work within schools in the absence of intimidation and fear.

Our union is committed to the work of creating warm, welcoming, and inclusive school spaces for  2SLGBTQ+ members and allies; this is evident from the spring 2SLGBTQ+ Members and Allies Conference, where ETFO leaders created an opportunity for ETFO members from across the province to come together to discuss 2SLGBTQ+ issues with the goal of removing barriers, challenging stereotypes, and addressing discrimination. ETFO leaders also facilitated a non-binary discussion group to support amplifying the voices and specific support needed for non-binary members who experience disproportionate amounts of discrimination and prejudice for not conforming to binary gender constructs and/or expressions.

I think it’s vital that we remain mindful that supporting 2SLGBTQ+ colleagues is an ongoing process that will change as social and political contexts change and that 2SLGBTQ+ educators are the primary group who can determine whether school spaces are warm welcoming environments free from intimidation and fear; therefore, any conversation regarding the cultivation and maintenance of safe schools for 2SLGBTQ+ educators must involve them in some capacity.

In my previous post I shared two resources that helped me to examine my beliefs about race and other identity markers as an initial step towards becoming an anti-racist educator. I also shared those resources in the hope that they could be of use to others who are also striving to become anti-racist educators. In this post I’ll share another resource that guided me in taking another step towards becoming an anti-racist educator. Again, with the hope that the resource may be of use to others.

In the second chapter of the book Anti-Racism Education: Theory and Practice, Canadian/Ghanian scholar George Dei outlines 11 basic principles of anti-racism education to help readers in their work towards effecting systematic change in relation to racism and other interlocking forms of social oppression. Some of the principles Dei outlines include, recognizing the social effects of race despite the concept’s lack of scientific basis. Recognizing that one cannot understand the full social effects of race without examining how race intersects with other forms of social oppression, such as gender, class, and ability. Interrogating white male power and privilege, and the rationality for their dominance in society. Problematizing the marginalization of certain voices and delegitimatizing the knowledge and experience of minorized groups in education systems. Acknowledging the traditional role of the education system in producing and reproducing racial, gender, sexual, and class-based inequities in society.

What I found useful about the principles outlined in this chapter, were that they provided a list of essential considerations for employing anti-racist practices when teaching along with a clear rational for each principle. For example, the first principle of anti-racism education focuses on recognizing the social effects of race, despite the concept’s lack of scientific basis. Following this statement, Dei goes on to explain that there are powerful social meanings associated with race which have real consequence to human lives that can be seen in how some human lives are more respected and valued over others. Therefore, to employ anti-racist practices one must recognize that human beings with minoritized racial identities have different social experiences primarily due to the colour of their skin and that those social experience may be harmful or jeopardize their overall safety and well-being. To combat systems and structures that allow inequities and injustices to exist we must learn to respect others who look like us and those that are different and normalize different ways of knowing and being in the world.

In my work with students and other educators, I often use books written by diverse authors, current events, and policies as entry points for conversations about race, racism, and anti-racism. I find the use of texts provides a way to facilitate discussions about race related issues and gets students and educators to think critically about race, racism, and anti-racism, with the goal that discussions lead to actions that support the creation of more equitable and just communities for all.

To conclude, while I have shared some resources and insights in this and my previous two posts regarding my work towards becoming an anti-racist educator, I would be remiss if I failed to acknowledge the reality that anti-racism work is contextual, nuanced, challenging, and messy. Meaning, while I’ve committed to doing anti-racist work by striving to become more anti-racist in my thoughts and practices, I still make mistakes. Mistakes are part of the work. Yet, learning from experiences, striving to avoid the mistakes of the past, and continuing to do the work is what I believe to be most important and what I strive to do and encourage others committed to anti-racism work do as well.

Also see:

Striving to Become an Anti-Racist Educator Part I: A Call to Action

Striving to Become an Anti-Racist Educator Part II: The Importance of Self-Examination

In my previous post, I shared my rational and motivation for striving to become an anti-racist educator. In this post I’ll share one step I took towards building my capacity to do anti-racist work along with a video resource and a book resource that guided my step forward. To reiterate what I communicated in my previous post, my hope is that the insights and resources I share, will help other educators who are striving to infuse their work with anti-racist practices; and by doing so, support the cultivation of a community of anti-racist educators.

In 2021, while collaborating with a colleague to create a series of professional learning sessions for in-service educators on culturally relevant pedagogy (CRP), my colleague suggested we use the short video titled, The Archeology of the Self prior to discussing CRP. My colleague wanted to use the video to help educators think about their positionality prior to thinking about pedagogy.  In the video Dr. Yolanda Sealy-Ruiz defines the archelogy of the self as a deep self-examination to uncover how issues of race, class, gender, religion, and other prominent identity markers live within a person. In the video, Dr. Sealy-Ruiz goes on to explain that if people, particularly teachers avoid doing a deep self-excavation to uncover their own archeology prior to working with racialized and marginalized student population then intentional or not, they will exact harm. Meaning they will say, do, and/or teach in ways that are racist, sexist, homophobic, or perpetuate other forms of oppression.

Watching this video, then for the first time, I realized the importance of first interrogating what I believe to be true about race among other identity markers prior to engaging in anti-racist work because I understood how those beliefs informed my thinking and practices within the classroom. When I began asking myself questions and thinking about what I believed to be true about race and other identity markers, I was surprised, disturbed and at times disappointed by what I discovered. I was also alarmed by recognizing how my beliefs manifested in my thoughts and teaching practices. Yet I understood this at times challenging and uncomfortable self-examination work to be a necessary step towards becoming an anti-racist educator.

Months later, this time working alone preparing to create and facilitate a different professional learning session for in-service educators on how to support the language and literacy needs of students from diverse linguistic and cultural communities, I read the book, Culturally Responsive Teaching and the Brain: Promoting Authentic Engagement and Rigor Among Culturally and Linguistically Diverse Students by Zaretta Hammond. In the fourth chapter titled, Preparing to Be a Culturally Responsive Practitioner, Hammond writes,

“[…] [I]f teachers want to be successful in their work with culturally diverse students, they must first accept and understand themselves as cultural beings. This self-knowledge acts as a set of reference points that shape our mental models about teaching, learning, and dependent learners of color” (p. 56).

This quote resonated with me because I saw parallels between Dr. Sealy-Ruiz’s idea regarding the importance of understanding my archeology to avoid exacting harm on racialized and minoritized students; and Hammond’s idea regarding the importance of understanding my cultural reference points and the way they inform how I see, treat, and teach students, particularly racialized students.

Yet what I appreciated about Hammond’s chapter, that wasn’t captured in Dr. Sealy-Ruiz’s video, was that Hammond included instructions and a list of questions to guide me in thinking about my cultural reference points and by direct extension engage in a deep self-examination to gain insight to my cultural identity.

Some of the questions Hammond poses that helped me to interrogate my beliefs about race and the cultural frames I wear to inform how I see the world include: How did your family identify ethnically or racially? Who were the heroes celebrated in your family and/or community? What got shunned or shamed in your family? What earned you praise as a child? What physical, social, or cultural attributes were praised in your community? Which [physical, social, or cultural attributes] were you taught to avoid?

Note that I didn’t try to answer all these questions at once but rather gave myself time and space to deeply reflect on each question. I think educators who are committed to anti-racist work may find Hammond’s questions useful in helping them to gain insight to the cultural frames they wear to see and interpret the world and in so doing help them potentially progress in their work towards becoming an anti-racist educator.

In my third and concluding post, I plan to share another resource that helped me to identify principles of anti-racist education and how that resource guided me in taking another step towards becoming an anti-racist educator.

This post is one of three where I will share reflections and insights from my work towards becoming an anti-racist educator. In this post I’ll communicate my rationale and motivation for intentionally taking up anti-racist work in my role as an educator. In the next two posts I’ll provide insights and resources that have informed my current thinking and practices in the hope that they will be useful to others who are also striving to become anti-racist educators by infusing their work with anti-racist practices.

I’ll begin by explaining that I’m striving to become an anti-racist educator because I understand that my beliefs about race inform the way I see, treat, and teach students. I also understand that race matters. Meaning, while racial differences are socially constructed and have no scientific basis, a persons’ perceived race will impact how they navigate different communities. Their perceived race will also inform how they are seen and treated by others from within and beyond their communities. Therefore, I believe that if I opt to adopt a colour-blind politics by pretending that I don’t see the racial profiles of the students I teach or recognize how my racial profile informs what and how I teach, I risk exacting harm on students; particularly Black and other racialized student populations who in general have questionable schooling experiences.

Further, I use the verb striving to describe my work towards becoming an anti-racist educator because I understand that learning to employ anti-racist practices is a continuous and ongoing process that changes depending on a series of factors. Some of those factors include the context in which I work, the students and colleagues with whom I work, the curriculum contents, and the socio-political climate in which the teaching and learning are situated.

I began striving to become an anti-racist educator in 2020 following an Ontario Ministry of Education review of my school board that found anti-Black racism to be systemic issue penetrating every level of the board. A few key findings from the review include some board trustees using derogatory terms to identify schools with large Black populations. Administrators disseminating harsher punishments to Black students for undisclosed reasons; and some educators disproportionately streaming Black students into non-university bound tracks without adequately informing students and parents/guardians of the consequences to their secondary and post-secondary pathways.

What I found particularly disturbing from the review and what compelled me to action were the comments from Black students. During the review many Black students shared that they felt they were streamed into lower academic tracks due to misperceptions about their cognitive and academic abilities, and that they noticed that they received harsher punishments than their non-Black peers for similar misconduct.

Wanting my work as an educator to more purposely support identifying then removing barriers to Black student engagement and learning, I committed to infusing my work with anti-racist practices. I think that any educator who commits to infusing their work with anti-racist practices receives a call to action; a moment when they make a conscious decision to become part of the change that they want to see within schooling then take intentional steps to make that change a reality. I also think that it is imperative that we as educators at any stage in our career remain mindful that we have a sphere of influence where we can effect change.

In my next post, I’ll share one of the steps I took to change my practices. I’ll also share two resources that helped me to take that step by interrogating my beliefs about race in addition to other identity markers and the importance of interrogating inherent personal biases prior to engaging in any anti-racist.

In my previous post, I began by retelling a brief story to provide readers with insight to my motivation for studying grammar. I then shared the strategies I used for developing my grammar knowledge so I could better support students learning the discipline. While sharing some strategies, I mentioned a resource, (englishpage.com) that I found useful in building my knowledge. I concluded the post by identifying three insights I gained from the experience that I believe could be useful for other teachers.

In this post, I’ll share an experience that prompted me to reconsider how I teach grammar. I’ll also share insights and considerations for teaching grammar using a culturally relevant pedagogical approach (CRP); with a specific focus on the building students’ cultural competencies tenet found in CRP framework. My goal is to help teachers affirm and integrate the diverse grammar competencies of the students they teach. My hope is that this work helps to aid students in developing their understanding of how to leverage their cultural knowledge combined with their knowledge of grammars to compose diverse texts for diverse audiences.

Last year, I attended a professional learning session on how to teach grammar and syntax to students in intermediate grades. I was there to support a colleague in the central literacy department who facilitated the session.  During the session my colleague shared the article, The Histories and Mysteries of Grammar: Supporting Elementary Teachers in the Time of the Common Core by Lauren B. Gartland and Laura B. Smolkin (2016). She then provided time for educators to read the article then engage in discussion. To participate in the activity, I too read the article and engaged in the discussions.

While reading, I learned that Gartland and Smolkin define grammar as a set of rules to explain how a system operates. In a language, this system typically refers to syntax, morphology, and semantics. This definition along with a few additional details helped to consolidate my understanding of grammar as the vocabulary speakers and writers employ to create well-formed sentences to effectively communicate their ideas to intended audiences.

Yet it was their definitions of descriptive and prescriptive grammars that provided the essential insight I needed to rethink teaching grammar from a CRP stance. Gartland and Smolkin define descriptive grammars as presenting language as it is used by speakers in different contexts and settings, while prescriptive grammars describe how people should speak and write. I quote these researchers at length below because it was the following passage that prompted me to shift my thinking. They write,

“Prescriptive grammars privilege standard English (SE) as the correct variety of English, whereas descriptive grammars characterize SE as one variety of English (albeit an important one) without valuing it above others. SE is the type of grammar presented in the Common Core [or the revised Grades 1 – 8 Language curriculum (2023)] because it is the grammar that’s associated with long-term success in public schools, completion of higher education, and employment with opportunities in professional advancement and financial rewards. Adding this type of grammar to children’s repertoires can open the door to educational success and socioeconomic mobility. The word adding is where much of the controversy lies. If we can come to view SE as appropriate to employ in particular settings and situations and other forms as appropriate for other situations, we move away from the idea that there is a single correct way to speak and write. And we move into the realm of descriptive grammars; this recognition of the legitimacy of other dialects will be the key to successful grammar instruction” (Gartland and Smoklin, 2016).

What resonated with me from this passage was the additional clarification of descriptive and prescriptive grammars, along with the reasons that prescriptive grammars are privileged.

I also appreciated the call for teachers to move away from the idea that there is a single correct way to speak and write. Rather appropriate ways depending on the setting, situation, and I’ll add audience. Thinking about the diverse languages, cultures, identities, and values of the students and teachers with whom I work, two questions that immediately emerged for me were: Who decides what is considered an appropriate way to speak and write for the setting, situation, and audience? And how do those individuals and groups decide? I share these questions for additional considerations others like me may want to ponder as they continue the work of applying CRP approaches to their language programs in general and grammar programs specifically.

Additionally, I valued the recognition and legitimization of non-standard English dialects, and I’ll add other languages in school, in addition to offering opportunities for students to utilize them when speaking and writing. Too often in my former role as a special education support teacher, I recall sitting in meetings with some educators including some administrators who relegated the English language skills of immigrant children from Caribbean nations inferior with the English language learner (ELL) label. When I questioned why the ELL label was ascribed to these students when English was the only language they spoke, the response was often something about dialect, accent, and questioning the quality of education prior to entering Ontario’s publicly funded school system. While I understood that standard English is the language of instruction in Ontario’s publicly funded school system, and that the students mentioned above may have benefited from some remediation from entering a different education system, my concern emerged from the label being ascribed to the students without consulting the student or parent(s)/guardian(s) and without a clear explanation to both. I believe that it is in the absence of choice and clear explanations that systems of education exact harm on racialized and vulnerable student populations that leads to a distrust of the system that is meant to serve and protect students.

Finally, I respected the evidence that Gartland and Smolkin shared to refute claims that children need to shed their uses of descriptive grammars in school to experience academic achievement. This evidence also highlighted the value of students maintaining and further developing their descriptive grammars while adding prescriptive grammars to their repertories. Inviting and teaching students to utilize their knowledge of descriptive grammars in school is one way that I believe educators can apply a CRP approach to their instructions.

Beyond understanding the difference between prescriptive and descriptive grammars and the place for both in school, the use of mentor texts is an additional way to support explicit instruction in both grammars. With the use of mentor texts students see how skilled and published writers employ the use of descriptive and prescriptive grammars to convey their ideas to their intended audiences.

Months later, in a series of professional learning sessions I facilitated for teachers working with students in grades 6, 7, 8, I shared and discussed the Gartland and Smolkin article. I then modeled how using excerpts from a book like True True (2023) by Don P. Hooper could support providing students with explicit examples of descriptive and prescriptive grammars in use.

During the session I first shared that Hooper employs the use of Jamaican patois, Hattian Creole, African American English, and standard English to tell the fictional story of Gill. I then provided a brief synopsis of the book where I explained that Gill is 17-year-old high school student from Jamaican descent who lives in Brooklyn, New York with his family. He is a devoted grandson, a loyal friend, and he has a passion for three things: coding, robotics, and karate. The story follows Gill as he transitions to an elite robotics school on the upper east side in Manhattan, the anti-Black racism he experiences while attending the school, and the physical and psychological toll that anti-Black racism takes on him as he seeks more equitable learning conditions.

I then read and analyzed a passage where Hooper utilizes descriptive grammars found in Jamaican patois and standard English to add a layer of depth and meaning to the story. I concluded this portion of the session by inviting teachers to reconsider how they currently teach grammar by thinking about how they could invite students to leverage their cultural competencies found in their knowledge of descriptive grammars along with their knowledge of prescriptive grammars to better communicate their written ideas to diverse audiences.

To read Part 1 and Part 2 click below:

Part 1: Teaching Grammar Part I: Reflecting on My Lack of Experiences Learning Grammar in School 

Part 2: Teaching Grammar Part II: Closing Gaps in My Grammar Knowledge