Author: Sharon Ethier

If you’ve ever had the chance to listen to Dr. Vidya Shah speak, you’ll know why she’s one of my favourite activist educators. As an associate professor at York University’s Faculty of Education, her commitment to racial justice and equity is clear every time I listen to her speak about her research in leadership, schools, and community.
Recently, I was able to hear her speak at an ETFO event and she referenced The Tragic Gap, something Parker Palmer, an American author and educator, explores. Imagine holding two separate ways of knowing – the idealist who dreams about the possibilities of all change and how the world should be. On the opposing side is the cynic who is skeptical and possibly defeatist; they are only able to see the negative reality of a situation without seeing any possibilities.
I’ve been standing on both of these sides at different points in education. I have dreamt about the possibilities of how my ideal classroom and school would look, sound, and feel like. I have dreamt of the resources that would be available for students, families, and schools. But I’ve also found myself on the cynical side, wondering if there will ever be enough time to make all of those dreams a reality. I imagine these viewpoints as physically standing on two different cliffs, overlooking the same landscape and interpreting two different ways of understanding what I see. On the idealist side, I would see the beauty of nature, tall, lush trees and rolling waters. On the cynic side, I would see challenging mountains to climb and dangerous rapids.
What is interesting about these seemingly opposing viewpoints is that they are both actually creating inaction and dishonesty. Simply dreaming and imagining the ideal without a plan creates a place of inaction. Just as being cynical and only seeing impassable obstacles fosters disengagement; we will never be able to climb higher or move fast enough to avoid the dangers and pitfalls.
However, there is a third way of seeing and knowing. The space of learning and activism is where we hold the tension between these two spaces in order to stand upright and maintain our balance. This is The Tragic Gap. It’s acknowledging the reality of the obstacles we face while striving toward our idealist goals. The Tragic Gap is the mindset of honesty and reality balanced with a vision for creating a better space. In this tension of opposites, we don’t get caught up in idealist visions without action and we also don’t leave space for ourselves to become so cynical that we are paralysed with inaction.
What does all this theory look like in the classroom? Why is it important for teachers to stand in the gap?
I’ve been doing a lot of dreaming this year – radically dreaming and reimagining education. I’ve dreamt of relationships based on trust and partnership, spaces where students feel safe to be their authentic selves, and school as purposeful communities. I’ve spent time thinking about what culturally sustaining means to me and all of the necessary components that allow children to also define who they are without fear of judgment. So many radical dreams this year!
However, in this journey I have also learned that dreams can be a lofty goal. They sometimes seem impossible to achieve and that can lead me to only see the barriers. Of course we all want students to see themselves through books in the classroom and libraries, but books are expensive and libraries need weeding and new books need purchasing…. It takes time and resources to make all of these radical dreams a reality.
Coming to the end of this year, I’m reflecting on what those dreams are and how I have moved toward making them a reality. Educators are always a reflective bunch; it’s hard not to be in a job where assessment and next steps are built into every day. What I have learned this year is that it’s the small actions that will keep me grounded. Intentionally using one book to draw out conversation and emphasize depth of learning, to hold myself accountable to create connections with students, notice who needs to be centered and who always is, to find joyful moments together that build our community to be as safe as possible – and to know what to do when it isn’t.
The end of the school year doesn’t signify the end of my radical dreams for education. Rather, I can stand in the gap between my dreams and reality holding onto that space of learning and growth to continue learning and growing as an educator. This will likely continue happening for the rest of my career – and likely beyond. And I bet the view from this tragic gap will be beautiful.

Having a supporting role in equity, inclusion and anti-racism, I am often involved in supporting anti-bias conversations. Working with kindergarten teachers this year, was such a joyful learning experience. Using picture books, we decided that we want to make space to challenge biases and stereotypes while also remembering that students are children. Their views and thoughts are shaped by the world around them, including systems of oppression that they can’t yet recognize through their daily interactions with media, social media, conversations, books, and even the way the clothing section is organized where they shop. Our goal in having these conversations isn’t to create discomfort, it is to create a safe space where we can learn about and celebrate all identities in a respectful way.

I’ve learned through this process that things don’t always go as planned. At times, even as young as kindergarten, we have to have some difficult conversations with students. As educators and adults in the room, our responses to these difficult conversations and statements can set the tone of safety in the classroom. It’s challenging!

Spending time with teachers anticipating and preparing for these conversations was helpful. We anticipated what might be said and just as importantly we prepared our responses. We recognized how we feel in the moment and reminded ourselves the intention is to maintain the safety and integrity of the space. It’s important to interrupt harmful language and statements – every time we see or hear them – both for those who are saying hurtful things and for those affected or hurt by them. However, we also want to make sure that we don’t leave it at interrupting or correction. Ideally, we want to engage in conversation with the children, explicitly equip them with skills on how to come back from mistakes, and help to explain why it was harmful. A tall order for early learners!

A resource we found that was really helpful is a text named Start Here, Start Now: A Guide to Antibias and Antiracist Work In Your School Community by Liz Kleinrock. This text addresses many of the questions and challenges educators have about getting started with antibias and antiracist work, using a framework for tackling perceived barriers from a proactive stance and was invaluable in helping us to frame our response to difficult conversations.

On pages 44-45, Kleinrock addresses the question, “How can I hold space for difficult conversations in my class?” She describes three possible ways the educator could react when engaged in difficult conversations, a knee jerk reaction, an interrupting strategy, or a call in conversation. A knee jerk reaction is the reaction we first give from a place of shock or emotion while an interrupting strategy stops the harm from happening in the moment. A call-in conversation is one that invites students to reflect on the impact of their words and works collaboratively to determine how to do better. As an educator, I could relate to all three of these reactions and reflecting on these possible ways to respond really helped us to centre ourselves in the intention of the moment.

For example, one of our conversations was about the story “The Sandwich Swap.**” When planning with this book, we anticipated that students might say something like, “Ew! I hate stinky foods, too!” In fact, we acknowledged that we had heard students saying something similar at the nutrition table in the past. How were we preparing to respond? How did those types of comments make us feel and make the other children in the class feel? How did the other students in the class react – did anyone join in and agree or empower those comments or did someone call out those comments? And we had to acknowledge how we’ve already responded to those types of comments in the learning space.

Using Kleinrock’s framework, we recognized the following types of possible reactions:

Knee jerk reaction: “Don’t say that! That’s mean!”
Interrupting strategy: “Lots of people like different foods. It’s not okay to put down what other people enjoy.”
Call in conversation: “I understand that people like different things. When we say things like “Ew! Or Gross!” It’s hurtful to others and can make them feel sad or embarrassed about foods that are special to them. What is something we can do or say that can help to lift people up instead of putting people down?”

This framework helped us to determine which of these responses made most sense for us. We could feel more confident entering that conversation understanding our purpose: making space for students to learn how to navigate their emotions, words, and impact on others.

My biggest learning from this experience was how valuable it is to prepare for conversations. Taking the time to think about what to say in the moment helped me to feel ready to engage in “call in conversations” rather than be overwhelmed and unprepared resulting in a knee jerk reaction. While it’s hard to find the time to prepare for every conversation, remember the necessity of interrupting in the moment. Revisiting conversations later with the individual or as a whole class can re-open that call-in conversation in a meaningful way.

**The Sandwich Swap by Rania Al Abdullah and Kelly DiPucchio. In this story, best friends Lily and Salma always eat lunch together; Lily eats peanut butter and Salma eats hummus. After saying some hurtful things about each others’ lunches that were lovingly made by their parents, their friendship is at risk.

Talking about mathematics is one of my favourite things to do with my class. I think it’s such an important way to build community amongst students and it gives them an opportunity to articulate their thinking and to engage in wondering together. When the class engages in discussion with one another it also means that the space is theirs. I’m not the sole knowledge holder; the students have the space as mathematicians.

I tend to think intentionally about the space when we engage in math talks. Sometimes I’m recording their ideas and standing at the easel with chart paper and markers. Other times we are walking around the room and looking at different representations of math. My preferred way to engage in math talk, though, is by sitting together in a circle. I find this way, the space is changed and we’re all positioned as learners in conversation with each other.

There’s a few different resources to use for math talks and they build different skills, however, the essence is the same: I want to get the children to talk about math! It’s important that I don’t always give them the ‘right answer’ and it’s important for them to hear ideas from their peers. The children might be building connections and strategies during discussion. They might be predicting and anticipating or they might simply be wondering about a problem.

I would often pose a question featuring my colleague, ‘Mr B’ and it would look something like: Mr B thought the following equation was true: 4 x 5 = 25. Do you think he is correct? How can you prove your thinking?

I intentionally gave an incorrect equation here and I’m hoping that the students, through thinking and learning together, will discover that the equation is incorrect. However, what I’m most interested in is how they can prove their thinking. I want them to speak about and explain their ideas, I listen to learn more about them as learners and mathematicians:

What do they see in their minds?
What are the strategies they can use to check and double check what they think might be true or mathematically possible?
Can they apply what they understand to different situations?
Can they use what they know to understand errors?

So much information can come from talking about math. What I love about these kinds of questions is that it doesn’t just ask students to give an answer, it allows the opportunity to wonder and engage in the thinking over the product. Listening to student thinking and conversations also gives space for me to intentionally assess while we’re learning. I can think about who is speaking and who isn’t sharing at all. I can scaffold some of those connections and processes to build student confidence with mathematics. .

If you’re looking for some online resources to support math talk, check out some of these cool sites:

Stevewy Borney: https://stevewyborney.com/

Math for Love: https://mathforlove.com/lessons/openers/

Estimation 180: https://estimation180.com/

Number Talk Images: https://ntimages.weebly.com/photos.html

I see you, educators, during these stressful days. Working hours on report cards, planning engaging lessons, thinking about graduations, end of year celebrations, and maintaining all of this with a smile each day.

I feel your joyful moments, educators, during these sunny days. Finding moments of shared humour with students, laughing with them during classes and letting them know how much you care. Cultivating relationships with your colleagues where you can support one another through this last month of the school year.

I know it’s hard, educators, during these demanding days. It’s hard to imagine the work will ever be done, deadlines will ever be met, and that in a few short weeks we will be saying good-bye to students who occupy a space in our hearts and lives.

I share your excitement, educators, during these inspiring days. Reflecting on how far the students have come, their growth, and their friendships. Seeing the difference you have made this school year as you have worked shoulder to shoulder with children to help them realize their potential.

I understand your wonder, educators, during these evolving days. Some of us are taking on new roles or challenges in your school board or union and wondering what the next year will bring. Some of us are retiring and wondering about what life will be like in September without school bells and announcements to guide our days. Some of us are moving to a new school with curiosity and excitement about what change will bring. Some of us are in the same positions and already reflecting and planning ahead about what we’ll do differently next year.

I recognize myself in each of us, educators, during these very full days. I, too, am making lists so I don’t forget anything. I’m writing notes and sticky notes and putting them in places to remind myself of things I want to think about when I have some time later. I’m using my timer to make sure I schedule in enough work time – but also enough break time – and stocking up on soooo many snacks and caffeine and sparkling water to get me through the next few weeks.

I’m embracing emotions with you, educators, during these June days. Embracing all of the range of emotions we both feel, similarly and differently, each June. I’m holding space for the messiness, for the chaos, for the joy, and for every beautiful moment while knowing that it’s all just a few weeks before it ends.

This past March, I was able to attend the workshop Educating for Social Justice at the ETFO Provincial Office. It was an incredible experience! Sharing space and learning with other like minded educators is always so cup filling. The connections and conversations with other women were so meaningful over the course of the workshop.
To me, social justice in education is multi-faceted. It includes the way we interact with and care for students. It is a mindset that values diversity, equal opportunity to tell one’s story, and celebrates all identities. In this workshop we had so many examples of how to embed social justice in the daily classroom.
Dr. Stephanie Fearon, from York University, was the incredible keynote speaker. Her address was titled “It’s More Than Just Teaching: Storying Liberatory Learning Spaces”. She focused on storytelling and it’s importance in the classroom. I loved the way she used storytelling to share about her own family and identity. She invited us to be active learners in her presentation, and to critically think about how we tell stories and how we might unintentionally perpetuate stereotypes.
Something that I really appreciated was how Dr. Fearon framed the critique circle for us. She demonstrated a lesson for us and asked us to critique the lesson. She had us repeat that we ‘do this in service of the educator’ to ensure that everyone knew a critique was different from criticism. The idea that educators should seek critique of their work when we are striving to better our teaching practice was at the heart of the idea of a critique circle. We are all seeking to improve our practice and build trust in our fellow educators to give feedback that is meaningful and important.
Next, was a presentation by Jen Matsalla titled “Who Am I? Using Visual Arts to Explore Identity”. In this interactive workshop, we had a wonderful community building activity with open ended questions and the opportunity to think and explore our identities and the identities of others. I loved that everyone could have an entry point and it was low risk art activities that would be accessible to every student. Each table created a collaborative arts piece and we put them all together on the floor to make a large, beautiful collage of art.
We had the opportunity to listen to Michelle McKay’s presentation “Engaging in Teaching and Learning About Truth and Reconciliation in the Elementary Classroom”. This incredible early years educator shared with us her experience of working in kindergarten to provide opportunities to build students’ relationships with the land in a meaningful way. The activities she shared helped students to see themselves as stewards and in partnership with the land and community in their neighbourhood. She also shared a video clip with us of students as activists, appealing to Prime Minister Justin Trudeau for better care of the environment. It was so inspiring!
Lastly, we participated in a series of hands-on activities thanks to Gail Bedeau and Helen Vlachoyannacos. Their workshop, “Teaching Critical Literacy through a Social Justice Stance”, had us thinking about all kinds of texts, from visual designs to short stories and poetry. Using a variety of different strategies, these educators had us work through different tasks to experience and consider how we might use these strategies in the classroom at different grade levels to have students interact meaningfully with texts that share identities and social justice themes.
This conference is a must for educators! As an educator, it was a wonderful opportunity to learn with and from others’ experiences. I came away so inspired by Dr. Fearon’s presentation, with a full toolkit of strategies to use in the classroom, and great connections with colleagues across the province. If you’re looking for the chance to really think about how you can embed social justice into your classroom and teaching practice, this is a great place to start. Hope to see you there next year.

I first heard about First Chapter Friday, while listening to The Spark Creativity Teacher Podcast. It can be challenging to get students to take the first step in choosing a book to read independently, try out new authors or genres, or to get excited about new books in the library. Betsy, from Spark Creativity, says whether you call it First Chapter Friday, Meet a Book Monday, Too Many Books Tuesday, We Love Reading Wednesday, or Thoroughly Into Books Thursday the premise remains the same: introduce students to a variety of different books for independent or self-selected reading.

I always loved reading the first of a series with students in my class. I would carefully choose books I loved, read the books with students and watch with joy when I saw them reading the next books in the series. I now realize that I introduced them to books I loved, Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief, Among the Hidden, The Wild Robot, Princess in Black etc. Most of them featured similar characters and exciting adventures, but I know now that something else was missing: student voice and choice, a variety of identities and topics, different themes, etc. Maybe I, too, should have taken part in First Chapter Fridays for educators!

To prepare for this activity, choose a variety of books from your classroom or school library. In my experience, librarians always have a great list of new titles and authors and love the opportunity to co-plan with classroom teachers. Some school boards have a central lending library where you can borrow a box of different books for three or four weeks with a variety of titles or themes as an option. Then, ask yourself a few questions when choosing books to share.

Do I have books from a variety of genres? I didn’t realize my love of exciting adventure books was factoring into what I thought made a good read for the students in my class. When I looked around at the books students were reading independently, I saw that they loved comedy – Diary of a Wimpy Kid, Dear Dumb Diary, Dog Man, etc. Be sure to include something similar to what they are already drawn to as well as some new genres and authors they might not have met yet.

Is the language and content accessible for students at this grade level? Have a peek through the book yourself, look up suggested age range levels, or find familiar authors you know in order to make some informed choice about reading levels and content. We definitely want students to try new stories, but we also want them to feel successful and excited about reading! Ensure that during your activity, you are offering books at reading levels that everyone can access.

Do these books offer an opportunity for students to learn about themselves and others? Are there a variety of identities and experiences represented? I suggest checking to ensure that the author is writing from a place of ‘own voice’ or is, at least, working with a member of that community to tell a story or build characters. If you’re not sure which identities to look for, try looking at the different heritage months or days of significance that are celebrated here in Ontario and Canada as a place to start. Find out the identities of the students and families in your school community. Seek out student voice: who or what events the students are interested in learning about.

Once you’ve chosen a few books to highlight, get ready for reading! Plan to read the first chapter of each book out loud to the students and while they are listening, they may be sketching or writing some of the key points of the book or story so that they can keep track of the details for each book. Remember, it’s not an assignment, it’s practice for students to use as a possible way to track their thinking. I like to think of this as another way for students to engage with reading and for them to find the method (sketching, jot notes, drawings, lists) that works best to express their ideas.

What I love about First Chapter Friday is that it reminds me of the importance of connecting students with reading and using it as a practice of interacting with text. When the educator reads the text aloud, it allows all students access to the story and opens the lines of discussion as a whole class as opposed to reading being an isolating activity. Thinking about the texts with students helps to build community and model curiosity and a love of reading. Whichever day you choose, introducing students to new books and new worlds can help build a community of readers.

There are some memories about school that are crystal clear in my mind. One such memory is when I was in first grade with a friend of mine (I’ll call her Beth). The most prominent memory I have of us is when we were reading with the teacher. She told us that we would be able to choose our own books from what I now understand was the levelled reading room . We went down the hall together and when she opened the doors it was like a bright light that shone in our eyes and a choir singing in the background. We saw so many BOOKS. These were different books than you would find in the library in the primary section – there were chapter books, picture books, and long books and books with lots of different characters in them. We could choose and exchange any books we wanted to read from this special room.

In retrospect, I know there wasn’t theme music or bright lights (unless it was the sun coming through the window). The books probably would be boring by today’s standards and were likely more dusty than I remember, but it remains a defining moment for me. I am still a voracious reader. I love a good story and I aim to develop a love of reading with students.

I think there’s something to be said for building a love of reading. When I was young I read books that were fun. As I grew older, I went through all the genres; scary books, romance books, literary canons, non-fiction, etc. I discovered what I love most about reading is the way I can learn about the world and the people who live in it.

I’m going to go out on a limb and say that despite the fact that I learned to read in school, it isn’t the phonics worksheets that developed me into a reader. It wasn’t the focus on sounding out the alphabet and consonant blends that made me want to visit the local library and get the newest book from a favourite author. Of course, all of those things are important in the science of reading; developing decoding skills and a knowledge of words, but today there’s so much more opportunity for students to gain experience in developing these skills. Using audiobooks, thinking about text images to introduce vocabulary and ideas before engaging in print, technology, videos, and even music are all helpful in allowing so many students access to reading and language development. What I loved most, as a student, is the books coming alive. I remember my grade one teacher reading aloud to us and having us imagine (then vocalise) the sound effects for the stories she read to us. We would make knocking sounds when someone knocked on the door or big sighs when we saw a character’s emotions on their faces. This interactive way of engaging with reading helped me to understand that reading is also important because of the way we make sense of texts and ideas.

It was also the autonomy to choose books that meant something to me, ones that I thought were interesting or fascinating. I could spend time learning about myself and what I liked to read. It was the opportunity to talk about things that were interesting to me with my teachers. It was finding a voice and learning the words to express ideas and emotions and thoughts in a small reading group when I was painfully shy to raise my hand in class.

One of the main goals of the revised language curriculum is “to encourage students to experience the joy and possibility that literacy learning can ignite.” It sounds like such a beautiful learning experience. What if we made sure to create joyful literacy moments for every student? What possibilities would they dream of? What would inspire them to become readers and to love reading a good text – whether it be books or movies or an instructional manual – or to love creating one? Think about the possibilities that literacy learning blocks can bring when we consider learning to read and reading to learn a purposeful partnership. Maybe those are the core memories of joy and possibility we can cultivate for students.

At the beginning of the school year in each class, we always spend a lot of time getting to know one another. The first term starts with engaging in conversations with the students and asking them to trust me, learn with me, and learn about themselves. We’re doing team building activities and I’m giving them time to explore who they are in this new space together.

But, there’s also something special about the second term in elementary school. It’s a time when I feel like we’ve built a classroom community, know one another, and the students are ready to dive in. Maybe because the days are starting to get brighter or maybe it’s because I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting on each students’ strengths and next steps while writing report cards, but I always feel like we’re in a different stage of our relationship. We’re building a trusting relationship with each other where we can all feel comfortable and safe.

It’s so important to build that trust. In times of challenging learning, the student-teacher relationship can be key to students feeling like they are not alone in their learning journey. Educator Zaretta Hammond, author of Culturally Responsive Teaching and The Brain, likens this trust to another familiar relationship. When we are with a physiotherapist, they give us exercises to help our bodies to move better physically. Sometimes those exercises stretch us to our limits, but we trust our care to these professionals. They assess and watch how we move and encourage us to continue getting stronger. Much of this ability to grow is based on trust; I know that I trust this person to do the best for me and provide care for me. Similarly, we help students to learn in class. We ask them to stretch their thinking, learn and attempt to master new skills, and take risks for their own growth. They trust us to guide them, provide them attainable next steps, build on their strengths, and be the person who helps create a safe place for them to learn.

Lately, I’ve also been thinking about the importance of building a space where students also trust each other. It’s difficult to host any space where there are so many different people together; many who come from different backgrounds and experiences and whose personality traits differ greatly from one another. How do we build trust between all of these students?

First we can define what that safe, trusting space looks like, sounds like, and feels like for each of us. We might have already done this activity together, but term two is a great opportunity to revisit those ideas. We might look at the original ideas if I’ve got a copy on chart paper or digitally and see how everyone feels as a whole or allow students to reflect individually and anonymously. I might ask if there’s anything to add, perhaps students have better language or understanding of what they are looking for in the learning space.

As the educator in the room, it’s also time for me to reflect personally on the ultimate goal of this learning community. This year, I’m radically dreaming of the possibilities for our classroom communities. I want students to feel safe and cared for by me, but I also want them to feel safe and cared for by each other. I want less division amongst social circles and more inclusion of everyone not because they are simply present in the space with us, but because we trust that we all belong here. I want all students to feel safe sharing their thoughts and to know that they don’t have to be perfect. This, too, all seems built on trust; that students trust one another to be respectful and trust that they will be kept safe.

Teaching is so challenging. There are so many things to think about; meetings, curriculum, deadlines, and more. It’s hard to trust that building belonging is essential for learning and wellness. In my year of radical dreaming, I’m remembering that at the centre of each day is a trusting, positive, and exciting experience for students in my care. I wonder what that looks like, sounds like, and feels like for all of us.

A friend of mine introduced me to a New Year’s trend a few years ago. Instead of making a New Year’s Resolution you choose one word to focus your intentions for the year. I’ve always made the obligatory eat healthier, less screen time, move more resolutions and they usually go by the wayside around March. The resolutions I made were about performing an action, however, using one word to set intention is about exploring and practising a mindset.

I think this year, I’m a bit late on choosing a single word. Last year was a tough one filled with a lot of challenges, loss, and change for me. I wanted a word with an intention that may centre myself. One that could evoke emotions that would lead me to remember that challenging times are temporary. Last night, I finally decided on the word “Embrace”.

The word embrace brings me comfort. It’s like a hug for times that are emotional and challenging, both celebratory and in consolation. Embrace reminds me that I can embrace each moment, even when difficult and find a way to be present and at peace. I embrace where I am in my journey and where I am in my understanding of work and life balance. I embrace my imperfections with love and care and embrace my growth to become better, even while remaining imperfect.

Educators have so many responsibilities and so much of our day can be spent working while still feeling like the work is never done. We are pulled in so many different directions at work – planning, assessing, caring for children and each other, report card writing, professional learning, personal growth. Then we return home and fulfill many caregiving duties for our own families and ourselves. It’s hard to remember that it’s okay to do our best, even when imperfect, and to take the time we need to rest and recharge.

I think about these periods of high stress with impending report card deadlines, assessments, and term two beginning. For me, it’s important to embrace this moment in a way that I can lean in mentally and emotionally to hold space for myself and know that this stress is temporary and I can get through it all. I wonder what it would be like for educators to embrace themselves with as much compassion as they give to others. I know that this year I will be reminding myself to do exactly this and exploring ways to treat myself with kindness and humanity.

I also think about my own personal journey to decolonize my own identity, to reclaim and rebuild what education means to me, and to create new identity affirming and sustaining spaces. It seems so daunting at times to work in social justice and anti-racism and I often wonder about my own impact on systems of oppression. Embracing each small step of the journey in 2024 this year may be the way to find joy in the struggle and to find moments of celebration with friends and allies.

Finding the one word to centre my intentions for 2024 isn’t the easy answer to healthier habits or a ‘new year, new me’ philosophy. It is a journey of self-reflection and exploration. Some people I know chronicle their journey using photos or quotes or journaling. Others I know take mindful moments of affirmation and focus. For me, I look at intention as a way to make meaning of my own goals for exploring my humanity; there are no rules, no one right way. Perhaps instead it’s many different moments and ways of honouring each one as they occur.

If you could choose your one word for 2024, I wonder what it would be.

When I first started teaching, I was always looking for The Thing. The Thing that was going to help students to learn best. The Thing that would make the lesson stand out in students’ minds. The Thing that would be the right fit for all students. Don’t we all wish we could find that one magical Thing?

In my search for The Thing I used a number of different graphic organizers. I had my KWL charts for every science strand, Venn Diagrams at different points, and collaborative Sequence Charts, Mind Maps, Brainstorming, etc. As time went on, my collection of graphic organizers continued to grow and morph from chart paper to include digital apps. I think this is really where I started to think more about The Thing and what it’s purpose was for our community of learners. Were they something physical we needed to have? Did they need to be visual in the classroom all the time? Which ones could we display on the screen and put away to revisit for the next time?

Sometimes I wanted to do some collaborative brainstorming. Students would be able to learn with and from one another; building upon their ideas and practising collaboration skills. I thought The Thing for this particular goal would be graphic organizers such as Mind Maps where students could see the relationships between pieces of a certain idea, topic, word, etc. We could track our ideas together if I wanted to activate some prior knowledge, take the temperature of the class as a whole about a specific concept in science or social studies, or even to help develop a deeper understanding of vocabulary for word work.

Sometimes I wanted to create an anchor for us as a class. Perhaps we were engaging in shared reading and we wanted to keep track of our thoughts or the events in the text. We might use a sequence chart or a timeline so that we could remember what had happened, how we felt or thought about what was written, or even to reflect back on how our thinking and opinions had changed. These anchor charts needed to be displayed, continually revisited, and always turned out to be messy and imperfect for the first few drafts – we were adding things, changing things, there were arrows pointing from one idea to another, and it documented our thinking. In the final review of this collection of thoughts, events, and ideas we could organize a neat, final draft but I always felt it was necessary for students to see that thinking was a messy process, it didn’t need to be perfect the first time around – or even the second!

Students always seemed to like using Venn Diagrams. Maybe it was the fun circles or the visual appeal for them. Trying to extend our thinking and explore different visual models, we used three and four circles to push our thinking; we looked at a variety of funny venn diagrams to interpret the creators’ ideas and we tried to create fun ones ourselves. Venn diagrams became a way of playing with our ideas, sorting and re-sorting what we saw and understood to know that there were many different ways of knowing and that learning could change and be seen from different perspectives.

Sometimes I wanted to really focus in and see what students were thinking. We would use Concept Circles or a Frayer Model and have students demonstrate their thinking with words or without. This would give me the chance to help students communicate their ideas in a variety of ways – using manipulatives, drawings, sketches, images, etc. Seeing students express their thinking in different ways helped those who were still attaining language or vocabulary and it also helped me to be intentional as a teacher in seeing their thinking, asking them questions, and talking to them about their ideas.

These are all really Great Things to use with students, but they weren’t The Thing. They were tools for learning; a visual way to engage with student thinking and allow space for student learning to be valued in the classroom. One of the biggest lessons throughout my years of teaching has been that it’s rarely about The Thing. It wasn’t the graphic organizer that the kids loved – although they did enjoy watching me make spelling mistakes or sounding out tough words. Rather, it was engaging in real collaborative thinking and learning. The messy ideas, the moment to be learning with one another was The Thing. I used to think that just giving them a graphic organizer would be The Thing to do and sometimes it still is. But now I also think of it as an opportunity to engage in critical thinking, to allow students to speak and voice their ideas and allow space to celebrate when their ideas change and develop and mature. In the end, maybe that’s The Real Thing.