Author: Preeti Deokharan

In Part 1 of this series, I explored the importance of social-emotional learning in mathematics and how developing a positive mathematical identity can help students build confidence and perseverance. Once students begin to see themselves as capable mathematicians, we can further support their success by strengthening their foundational numeracy skills.

One of the most important aspects of foundational numeracy is helping students see numbers as flexible quantities that can be composed and decomposed in multiple ways. Developing this understanding allows students to think more efficiently, make connections between concepts, and approach problems with confidence.

From Kindergarten to approximately grade 3, we spend a lot of time focusing on the foundations of math. Creating opportunities for number talks/math talks and teaching a variety of strategies to help students solve problems quickly and build their number sense. Skills such as composing and decomposing numbers, calculating efficiently, and understanding place value are essential building blocks for future learning.

As students move into the Junior grades, the focus naturally shifts from developing foundational skills to applying mathematical thinking in more complex ways. Students arrive with a wide range of experiences and levels of understanding, and when foundational concepts are not yet secure, new learning can feel overwhelming or stressful. This presents an opportunity for educators to reflect on instructional design, consider how time is allocated for revisiting key concepts, and identify the strategies and supports that will help students develop confidence, fluency, and long-term success in mathematics.

In the primary grades, this often involves providing rich experiences with concrete manipulatives such as ten-frames, rekenreks, connecting cubes, and counters. These tools help students visualize quantities, recognize patterns, and develop a deeper understanding of how numbers are constructed and related to one another.

As students move into the junior grades, these foundational understandings continue to support increasingly sophisticated mathematical thinking. Regular opportunities to explore numbers in different ways help students develop flexibility and efficiency. For example, students can recognize that 12 can be represented as 10 + 2, 6 + 6, 8 + 4, or 5 + 5 + 2. This ability to break apart and recombine numbers strengthens mental math strategies and supports success with increasingly complex operations.

Place value remains one of the most important concepts in elementary mathematics. A strong understanding of place value provides students with a powerful tool for reasoning, estimating, calculating, and communicating mathematical thinking. It supports not only whole-number operations but also future learning involving decimals, fractions, and proportional reasoning.

One effective approach is encouraging students to represent numbers in expanded form when solving problems. Rather than relying solely on procedures, students can use place value reasoning to make their thinking visible.

For example, when solving 57 + 36, students might think of the problem as:

(50 + 30) + (7 + 6)

which can then be recomposed as:

80 + 13 = 93

Approaches such as these help students understand the value of each digit and the relationships between numbers. They encourage conceptual understanding while simultaneously supporting procedural fluency.

Foundational numeracy can be strengthened through a variety of instructional approaches. Number talks, math games, small-group instruction, problem-solving tasks, and targeted mini-lessons all provide opportunities for students to deepen their understanding of number relationships and develop efficient strategies. These experiences are most effective when they occur regularly and are embedded within daily mathematics instruction.

Professional judgment also plays an important role. There will be times when students benefit from additional opportunities to consolidate foundational concepts before moving forward to new learning. Providing this time ensures that students have the necessary understanding to access increasingly complex mathematical ideas with confidence.

When we prioritize foundational numeracy, we are setting students up for long-term success. Strong number sense helps students approach math with confidence, flexibility, and independence. When combined with a positive mathematical identity, these skills create a strong foundation for deeper learning and help students see themselves as capable mathematicians.

Over the last few months, I have been reflecting on my time spent supporting students in classrooms and working with small groups in junior grades, particularly during math instruction. Two observations have remained consistent: many students benefit from developing a stronger growth mindset in mathematics, and many are benefiting from additional opportunities to strengthen their foundational numeracy skills.

Before focusing on targeted instruction and specific mathematical concepts, one of the ways I begin mathematics learning at the start of the school year is by recognizing and drawing attention to the emotional side of learning math. Many students approach math with uncertainty, anxiety, or a lack of confidence based on previous experiences. Sometimes a seemingly small interaction can have a significant impact. A student who hears a peer quickly solve a problem and say, “That’s so easy,” may begin to internalize the idea that they are not good at math. Over time, these experiences can shape how students see themselves as mathematicians.

One of the most powerful things educators can do is help students develop a positive mathematical identity. When students believe they are capable of learning mathematics, they are more likely to persevere through challenges, take risks, and engage in meaningful problem-solving.

Strand A: Social-Emotional Learning (SEL) Skills in the Ontario Mathematics Curriculum provides a strong foundation for this work. The curriculum encourages educators to integrate self-awareness, perseverance, resilience, and healthy coping strategies directly into mathematics learning. By intentionally creating classroom environments where mistakes are valued as part of the learning process, we can help students develop confidence and strengthen their willingness to engage with challenging tasks.

So how do we create those productive opportunities?

As educators, we know that building a positive mathematical mindset develops over time through consistent modelling, classroom routines, as well as opportunities for reflection. When students begin to view mathematics as a space for exploration rather than simply arriving at the correct answer, they become more willing to share their thinking, take risks, and learn from mistakes.

Some ways to intentionally incorporate SEL opportunities into your mathematics classroom include:

• Incorporating regular reflection time through reading stories
• Using exit tickets that invite students to reflect on their mathematical experiences. Questions such as “How did you feel about math today?”, “What part felt successful?”, or “What challenged you?” can help students develop self-awareness and identify areas for growth.
• Modelling positive self-talk during instruction. Statements such as “I’m going to keep trying,” “I can work with a partner to solve this,” or “I can ask for help when I need it” demonstrate the mindset we hope students will adopt.
• Offering open-ended tasks that allow students to approach problems using different strategies and demonstrate multiple possible solutions. Open-ended tasks help students recognize that mathematics is not always about finding one correct pathway.
• Using social stories and mentor texts that model perseverance, resilience, and positive self-talk when encountering challenges.
• Celebrating learning through mistakes by encouraging students to record misconceptions, revisions, and new understandings in their math journals.

These practices help create a classroom culture where students feel safe taking risks and where mathematical thinking is valued as much as the final answer.

It is also important to recognize that math anxiety is not always rooted in mindset alone. For some students, feelings of frustration or avoidance may stem from gaps in foundational numeracy skills, language barriers, learning exceptionalities, or previous interruptions in learning. If you notice that a student is consistently struggling despite classroom supports, consider collaborating with your school’s Special Education or English as a Second Language /English Literacy Development resource teacher. These team members can help inform assessment practices, identify underlying needs, and suggest targeted supports that may help the student access mathematics more successfully.

Once students feel confident engaging in mathematical tasks and sharing their thinking, instructional focus can shift toward strengthening their understanding of numbers and foundational mathematical concepts. Students benefit from reflecting on how mathematics makes them feel and from developing a growth mindset. They also benefit from seeing what effective mathematicians do; ask questions, try different strategies, learn from mistakes, and persevere through challenges.

In Part 2 of this blog, we will explore how strengthening foundational numeracy skills can further support student confidence and mathematical success.

We have officially arrived at the beautiful part of the year where the sun is shining, students can feel the approach of summer, and you get to celebrate the culmination of a year’s worth of growth. While managing report cards, final tasks, and shifting routines takes a lot of energy, it is also a powerful time for reflection. If you are feeling this collective momentum of educators right now, you are in great company. These final weeks are a great chance to shift from wrapping things up into a period that is rich and deeply rewarding for both you and your students.

Because your classroom relationships are firmly established and students feel a sense of classroom community, you can flip your focus toward student-led experiences. I like to introduce passion projects or inquiry-based explorations where students take ownership and showcase their learning in ways that truly matter to them. Or you can also prioritize reflection over review by using digital learning portfolios where students showcase their favourite memories of the year and present them to different classrooms. Additionally, having students write letters to their future teachers or to themselves. This is also the perfect time for community building, outdoor learning, collaborative art, and cross-grade buddy activities to strengthen the bonds that make all your hard work worthwhile.

As you move into report card season, it is an opportunity to reflect on the comprehensive picture of student learning you have gathered over time. Focus on the most recent and relevant evidence, ensuring that your evaluations are grounded in a balanced triangulation of observations, conversations, and student products. Ongoing assessment and evaluation of subtasks throughout the term provides a strong foundation for final evaluation, helping to ensure that summative judgments are well-informed without the need for excessive last-minute tasks. You may find it helpful to streamline your report card writing by organizing your evidence, using clear comment structures, and refining templates that can be personalized to reflect each student’s learning accurately and professionally.

As the call of summer grows stronger, both you and your students are naturally feeling a shift in energy, which you can channel beautifully by protecting your personal non-negotiables like restorative sleep, joyful movement, and refreshing time outside. Make sure to intentionally celebrate the small wins, whether it’s a breakthrough moment for a student who has worked hard all year or a collaborative classroom moment that happens seamlessly, because these joyful highlights are some of the best parts of teaching.

This time of the year is also a meaningful time of transformation, especially for students preparing for a new grade, a new school, or exciting life changes. You can create a sense of closure and security by implementing a few thoughtful practices, such as sharing positive insights with next year’s teachers and introducing uplifting closure rituals like class celebration awards, memory books, or reflective talking circles. For students with IEPs, exceptionalities or our Multilingual language learners, consider connecting with the next year’s teacher or  hosting transition meetings ahead of the final week to ensure everyone feels confident, supported, and excited for the year ahead.

Teaching is an impactful profession, and our dedication to navigating class dynamics, workload, and student readiness is incredibly admirable. As you move through these final weeks, embrace self-compassion, celebrate your massive victories, and let go of the rest, knowing that the incredible work you’ve done this year, both seen and unseen, has made a lasting, positive difference!

A teacher friend called me the other day, and as per usual, we got right into our “teacher talk.” We have this habit of bouncing ideas off each other until we’ve basically mapped out a whole month of school. Our “quick” conversations always end up being 40 minutes or longer, you know how it is when the creative gears start turning!

In this recent conversation, we began brainstorming some great ideas for Grade 3 and 4 STEM. We were looking for a fresh way to spark curiosity, and it led me back to a topic that never fails to get kids talking: Ordinary Objects.

As teachers, we spend so much time over-analyzing our lesson plans that we sometimes forget the magic hidden in a simple pencil or a roll of tape. Inquiry-based learning doesn’t always need a complex kit; sometimes, it just needs a really good “Why?”

Thinking about this took me right back to my own “young investigator” days. I can still see myself sitting on the floor with a broken cassette tape, determined to save my favorite music. I wasn’t just fixing a toy; I was an engineer on a mission. I remember the focus it took to re-thread that delicate ribbon around the tiny plastic gears, making sure it would pull in the right direction. Hours would disappear in a blink because I was so lost in the “how” of it all.

That’s the energy I love in my classroom. Have you ever given your class a broken toaster or an old mechanical keyboard and a screwdriver? (Safety goggles on, of course!) Just to find out how it works?

As our conversation began to dive in deeper we realized that this is the ultimate bridge for our Structures and Mechanisms strand. As students unscrew the casing, they see the internal structure (the frame) and the simple machines (the gears and levers) that make it “go.” There are so many curriculum connections to be found just by un-inventing the world around us.

I challenge you and your students to look at a common object, like a backpack and “un-invent” one part of it. Think, what if backpacks didn’t have zippers? Suddenly, Grade 4 students are brainstorming pulleys, toggles, and gears, while the Grade 3s are thinking about how the structure of the bag would have to change to keep things from falling out.

When we teach kids to question the things they see every day, we are teaching them that the world is designed, and if it’s designed, it can be understood and eventually, improved by them.

What is one “ordinary” object in your classroom that your students might want to un-invent? Let’s swap some ideas in the comments!

 

At a recent staff meeting, my principal recommended Troublemakers by Carla Shalaby, a book she said would add perspective to how we think about our students. I added it to my audiobook queue, not thinking much of it at the time. But as I started listening during my daily commutes, it quickly became one of those books that sticks with you. I found myself nodding along, reflecting, and at times, feeling a little uncomfortable, in the best way.

The book introduces us to four young children, Zora, Lucas, Sean, and Marcus, who are each labeled as “troublemakers.” They resist authority in different ways and find themselves in classrooms that often expect more conformity rather than making space for their unique voices.

As I listened, I couldn’t help but think about students I’ve taught over the years, and even a few in my current school. Zora’s strong sense of self reminded me of a student who pushes back during group work when things feel too rigid. Marcus’s open defiance felt familiar too, the kind of student who tests boundaries because they’re looking for real choices, not just directions to follow. Lucas and Sean made me think of students who interrupt “on-task” time with questions that challenge what’s being taught or how it’s being taught.

These stories really made me pause and reflect on my own practice. They pushed me to think about how much space I create for student voice and autonomy in the day. One idea that stayed with me is Shalaby’s suggestion that “trouble” is often a signal, one that points to unmet needs for autonomy, belonging, or connection. It made me ask myself: am I shutting down these moments, or am I creating space for them?

Another idea that really resonated with me was “learning school.” Shalaby describes this as the hidden curriculum students have to figure out in order to succeed, not academics, but how to be in school. Things like knowing when to speak, how to sit, what kind of curiosity is acceptable, and how to show compliance in ways that adults expect.

This hit home because we see it every day. Students who are incredibly bright, curious, and passionate, but they struggle, not because they can’t learn, but because they haven’t quite “learned school.” They don’t always fit the mold of what we think a “good student” looks like, quiet, neat, and compliant. And yet, they’re often the ones asking the most thoughtful questions or standing up when something feels unfair.

Shalaby reminds us that these students aren’t the problem. Instead, it’s the system that doesn’t always recognize their resistance as something valuable, something that can actually reflect courage, identity, and a strong sense of justice.

And this is where I think it’s important to pause and acknowledge something: as educators, we do work incredibly hard to create spaces for individuality and creativity. We care deeply about our students and want them to feel seen and heard. But the reality is, we’re also managing large class sizes, tight daily schedules, the school’s schedule of events and parent communication, and the responsibility of covering curriculum expectations and much much more. In trying to balance it all, it’s easy to lose time and space for individuality and creativity to naturally surface. Many times we end up following a tight timeline just to get through the day. That gap isn’t about a lack of effort, it’s about the system.

And that’s where the real tension lies for us as educators. We want students to think critically and be themselves, but sometimes the structure of school rewards conformity more than creativity or individuality. This book has definitely shifted how I respond when a student pushes back or bends the rules. Let us see those moments as less as disruptions and more as opportunities, to connect, to listen, and to better understand what that student might need.

Let’s continue to rethink not just what we teach, but how we create our learning spaces, emotionally, culturally, and socially. I invite you take a moment to reflect on these questions and consider where small shifts in your approach might make a difference.

Reflections:

When a student challenges directions or routines, how do I usually respond and what might that behaviour be trying to tell me?

In what small ways can I create more space for student voice, choice, or curiosity within my current schedule?

Are there moments in my classroom where I might be prioritizing compliance over connection and how could I shift that balance, even slightly?

As we step back into our classrooms, I invite you to join me in a different kind of shift. Rather than doing more, focus on doing better in just one area you’ve already started. Maybe it’s something personal in your own practice, or maybe it’s connected to your class.

Like any change, this starts with reflection. Think back over the past year. What have you done that feels good and sustainable? What did you introduce that you genuinely love? Maybe you started something and slowly let it go. Now is the perfect time to bring it back and give it another real chance.

This type of shift requires an intentional pivot in our daily routines. For me, the big focus this year is student independence in the junior grades that I support. When we solve every problem for our students, we unintentionally teach them that they need us for everything. To break that cycle and reclaim my own attention, I’m leaning heavily into a classic strategy.

The “3 Before Me” rule. It sounds simple, but it can create a great shift in your classroom. “3 Before Me” is a strategy I’ve used before and one I get genuinely excited to introduce each year, but if I’m honest, it’s also one I tend to forget to consistently reinforce over time. So this year I aim to be intentional. I will teach, model, and remodel, and use anchor charts to remind myself and my students how to use it.

Here is how it will work. Once I’ve explained the task and addressed any questions, students will try the following before coming to my desk with a “how-to” question:

Check in with themselves: Check the board, the rubric, or their own notes.

Ask a Peer: Ask a neighbour for clarification.

Refer to a Resource: Look at a mentor text or a classroom anchor chart.

If a student comes to me with a question, I’ll hold up three fingers to check if they’ve done their “3 Before Me.” If not, I’ll kindly send them back to give it a try first; if they say yes, I might ask which peer they talked to or what resource they checked, just to keep the habit strong.

What makes this work for my students is that it builds confidence and fosters critical thinking. Students come to see that they can find answers on their own instead of always turning to the educator for answers. And for the educator, it reduces the constant interruptions and quick-fix questions, creating the time needed to support students more intentionally and meaningfully. It creates space for you to facilitate small groups or have deep, one-on-one check-ins with students who truly need your expertise.

As we use the “3 Before Me” strategy, we need to make sure it actually fits the learners in front of us, especially our multilingual learners and students with special education needs. That means teaching it clearly and visually. Try using simple anchor charts with icons, step cards on desks, and sentence stems like, “Can you explain this step?” or “I don’t understand this word.” Model what asking a peer actually sounds like before expecting students to do it independently. And remember, the number doesn’t have to be rigid. For some students it might be “1 Before Me” or “2 Before Me.” Build in safe exceptions for when a student is truly stuck or overwhelmed. When we scaffold it properly and choose peer partners intentionally, “3 Before Me” becomes a tool for building confidence and independence, not a barrier.

Changing your classroom culture is like breaking any old habit. It feels clunky at first. You will have to revisit your expectations and set new goals with your class. You’ll have to resist the urge to give the quick answer and you’ll have to gently point back to the “Ask 3” poster.

But remember this. Every time you don’t answer a question that a student could solve themselves, you are gifting them a bit of autonomy and gifting yourself the energy to be the inspired, present teacher you want to be.

As you look at your calendar for the coming weeks, begin by asking yourself. What is one task I do daily that my students could actually do for themselves? Where am I “performing” teaching rather than “facilitating” learning?

I invite you to make this year the year of the sustainable teacher.

As both a teacher and a parent, I get to see what engages children including my own. Lately, my daughter has been bursting through the door with this excitement, arms waving, cheeks flushed, words tumbling out faster than I can catch them.

And every time, her stories follow this simple but exciting pattern. A picture book they read in class. The outdoor adventure that connected to it and the research they did afterwards to answer the many questions they came up with.

Watching her connect all those pieces has reminded me, more clearly than ever, how powerful picture books and outdoor time truly are.

My daughter will start by telling me about the picture book of the day. Maybe something about forest animals or changing seasons. But it’s really what comes after the story that shows the power of those pages. She talks about the characters, the setting, and the questions the book planted in her mind.

As a teacher, I know picture books can spark inquiry.
As a parent, I get to see that spark ignite in my own child.
Then comes the outdoor stories. Her absolute favourite part.

Her class has been exploring the forested trails behind the school, and hearing her describe it feels like listening to a nature documentary narrated by a very excited five-year-old. She tells me about following the path, spotting tracks in the mud, and crouching down to look closely at “real evidence,” as she calls it.

Recently she came home thrilled about finding animal scat on the trail . “We found ‘clues’, Mom!” and she continued to explain the different lines pressed into the dirt and snow that a muskrat had dragged cattails and sticks to the pond. She explained it like she had been on a wildlife expedition. And honestly? Her excitement was contagious.

After their walk, she said they went back inside and looked up muskrats on Google, because, of course, she had a hundred questions. And the facts she learned came flying at me as soon as she got in the car. She told me these things with such joy that I couldn’t help but smile. The book gave her the curiosity, the forest gave her the evidence, and the research gave her the answers. That combination of story + exploration + information is what made the learning so powerful.

Watching her experience all of this has reminded me, both as a teacher and a parent, that these simple ingredients aren’t extras, they are the driving force for deep, joyful learning.

We don’t need elaborate materials or hours of planning. Sometimes all it takes is a story, a walk through the trees, and the chance to follow a question wherever it leads.

When my daughter comes home overflowing with enthusiasm, talking about trails, animal scat, muskrat homes, and underwater facts, it’s impossible not to see the magic. It is clear that picture books and outdoor time don’t just teach. They invite curiosity and make learning come alive.

This year, a part of my roles is serving as a Kindergarten Planning Time teacher. It’s a unique position, one where I drift between classrooms, slipping into the children’s day like a background melody. I’m not their “main” teacher, yet I’m a constant presence. And over the months, I’ve realized something powerful.

We talk so much about academics, routines, and expectations, but underneath all of it is something deeper. That is, what children come to believe about themselves, their inner voice. The one that will one day whisper encouragement before a big test, calm them when they are overwhelmed, or remind them that they are capable and loved.

Since September, I’ve watched a quiet transformation. When I enter a classroom now, the children greet me with familiarity, comfort, and joy. They know me. They trust me. Many of them open up in ways they didn’t at the start of the year.

It made me realize:

Even in a short period of time, even in a shared role, even in just one period a day, we matter.

Our tone, our consistency, our reactions, our presence… all of it becomes part of a child’s internal narrative.

There’s one moment that has stayed with me this year, one I think about often.

In September, every time I walked into one particular Kindergarten class at the end of the day, one little girl started to cry. It wasn’t about me; it was about the clock. My appearance signaled one thing to her:

It’s almost home time.

And for her, that transition felt overwhelming.

Every day, she cried.

Not loudly, not dramatically, just an overwhelming feeling that sat in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

I sat with her. I talked to her. I told her she was safe, that she was okay, that she was brave. In the beginning, she would repeat it back to me as a question.

I didn’t push her. I just showed up consistently with the same calm voice, and gave her the same gentle reassurance.

And slowly, so slowly at first, her inner voice began to change.

Where there was once panic, she started to build predictability.

Where there was fear, she began to find comfort.

Where there were tears, she began to show quiet strength.

Now, months later, she no longer cries when I walk in. Instead, she greets me, accepts that it’s almost home time. She gets ready calmly. She smiles. She chats. She knows she’s okay. She knows she’s brave.

And somewhere inside her, a new inner voice has formed. A voice that sounds a little bit like her… and maybe just a little bit like the reassurance she heard from me all those times.

“This is routine. I can handle this. I’m brave.”

This experience reminded me that how we greet a child becomes how they learn to greet themselves.

How we respond to their fear becomes how they learn to handle fear.

How we speak to them becomes their self-talk when we are not around.

We are not just teaching curriculum.

We are teaching self-regulation. Resilience. Self-talk.

We shape their inner voice, one moment, one connection at a time. And sometimes, it’s the smallest roles, the smallest windows of time, that make the biggest impact.

For several years now, I’ve had the privilege of being part of our school’s Eco Committee, working alongside passionate staff and students to make small but meaningful changes for our planet. This year, I had the opportunity to reflect on ‘why’ this work matters so deeply to me. I realized that my connection to nature has been a constant thread throughout my life — even as far back as grade 3, when I was proudly part of our school’s “Green Team.” Back then, we promoted recycling, reminded classmates to turn off the lights, and helped bring life back to our school courtyard. Looking back, it’s clear that this early spark for environmental stewardship has continued to guide me ever since.

Being an Eco Lead this year has been an inspiring journey of meaningful learning, connection, and discovery. Recently, I had the wonderful opportunity to attend a professional development session hosted by Peel Eco Schools in partnership with Toronto Region Conservation. The experience was rich with practical strategies and heartfelt perspectives from the Outdoor Education Team and members of the Indigenous Education Team. 

One of the resources shared was the book Treaty Words: As Long as the Rivers Flow by Amiee Craft, a powerful resource to incorporate Indigenous voices and histories into our eco work. It reminds us of the importance of our relationship to the land. A line that truly resonated with me from the book was, “she knew it was a privilege to be there”—on the land, witnessing the transitions of nature and understanding our role within those relationships.

Our afternoon was spent intentionally preparing for our outdoor space. We used materials like milk bags and newspapers to create our very own sit spots. Once we entered our outdoor space and found our quiet sit spots, we took time to reflect on our responsibility to the land. It made me think deeply about how we have a duty to care for it, to leave it as we found it, and to ensure that our presence honours the delicate balance of nature. This sense of responsibility is a living practice rooted in Indigenous teachings about respect, reciprocity, and renewal, a perspective beautifully shared through Treaty Words.

We settled into “sit spots”. Special places where we can pause, observe, and connect deeply with nature. As I sat in my spot, despite the busy sounds of traffic on Hurontario to my left and a construction truck repairing pavement to my right, I was amazed at how slowing down made me feel. I noticed the beauty in the grass, how a spider delicately moved from one leaf to the next using its web, and the countless ladybugs dotting the greenery like little jewels. After a quiet 10 minutes of connecting with the land, we were equipped with macro cameras that allowed us to zoom in on the tiniest details of life around us. The macro cameras took a simple, tiny flower that I might normally overlook and revealed stunning close-ups of vibrant colors, intricate textures, and miniature structures. A hidden world of wonder right at my feet! That tiny flower is now the wallpaper on my phone. A small reminder that even amongst the noise and hurry, there’s a world of hidden wonders waiting right at my feet.

Sit spots are more than just a quiet place outdoors. They are invitations to practice mindfulness and patience, encouraging us to observe the environment with all our senses, seeing, smelling, feeling, and even tasting where safe and appropriate. This kind of connection nurtures respect for living things and fosters a sense of belonging within the natural world.

I encourage every educator and student to find their own sit spot. Whether it’s a patch of grass at school, a local park, or a garden corner at home, taking time to slow down and really notice the smallest creatures and plants can bring unexpected joy and a renewed sense of care for the environment.

Let’s all continue to nurture our connection to nature,  because when we look closely, listen deeply, and feel fully present, we discover that the world around us is alive with stories, beauty, and lessons waiting to be learned.

As educators, we understand the importance of representation in the books we offer our students. Many of our classroom libraries have stories that reflect diverse cultures, identities, and experiences, however, one area that continues to be underrepresented is people with disabilities.

Books that portray characters with visible and invisible disabilities are not only valuable for students who share those experiences, but also for building empathy, awareness, and inclusion among all readers.

Think about it. Have you ever seen a student’s eyes light up because a character in a story uses a wheelchair, just like them? Or because the main character uses an AAC (augmentative and alternative communication) device to speak, just like their sibling? That moment of recognition can mean everything.

When students see characters who move through the world in a similar way, whether navigating hallways in a wheelchair, facing anxiety in a noisy classroom, or interpreting social cues through the lens of autism, it can validate their experiences. It tells them, You belong here. Your story matters. On the flip side, when these characters are missing, it can send an unintended message: You don’t belong in stories.

Books about disability are for everyone. Why? Because inclusive literature builds empathy, challenges stereotypes, and opens the door to meaningful conversations around inclusion, fairness, and everyday kindness.

But here’s the thing, even with a growing awareness of diversity in publishing, books that accurately and respectfully depict characters with disabilities remain limited.

So what can educators do? Evaluate and choose your books accordingly. The resource by Chloë Myers and Hank Bersani Jr. offers practical ways for evaluating whether children’s books challenge or reinforce ableist thinking. Consider the following questions to determine if the book is a good fit for your library.

Does the book promote ableism by ignoring people with disabilities? Does the book address a diverse range of characters, including children of various ethnicities, abilities, and backgrounds? For example, do the images show children in wheelchairs, wearing hearing aids or using portable oxygen tanks?

Do the illustrations promote ableism by addressing disability in stereotyped ways? For example, does the book show children with various abilities, taking on roles like playing basketball, playing on swings, climbing, singing, making choices using pictures and assistive devices?

Who in the story has agency? Are people with disabilities always the recipients of the efforts of others or are they portrayed with value? For example, are the characters depicted as engaging and contributing to their community? Does it show their abilities and strengths rather than focusing only on their limitations?

These questions are not about canceling books. They are about becoming more intentional with our choices. Every book you choose has the power to shift thinking, shape self-concept, and build understanding. Begin by exploring a title a month. Consider involving your students. It is okay to say, “I’m trying to find books that do a better job of representing all kinds of people. Let’s explore together.”