Author: Sharon Ethier

As I think more about assessment in conversations and observations, I recognize that I need to cultivate more intentional time and space for conversation together. Decentering myself as the teacher and allowing students to share their ideas and thoughts with one another may be as important for myself as it is for them.

Using photos and illustrations is a great tool to supplement classroom discussions, to use as assessment, or to layer learning experiences. There’s a variety of pictures available online to evoke conversation, such as ones published in the news or art. For example, if you are looking for ways to support and engage students in thinking about global citizenship and sustainability in the science curriculum, you may choose to use advertisements or piece of artwork that provoke thought about climate justice. You might choose to share an illustration with the class at the beginning of your unit to open conversations or you might use it as a tool to introduce vocabulary and ideas that they might need for the unit. The health curriculum has many expectations in different grades and strands that open conversations about identity, mental health, bullying, etc. Choosing to analyse an artist’s work depicting mental health struggles would be a great conversation starter if you are teaching about mental health and wellness in health classes.

Promoting discussions between students and facilitating a safe space for sharing in the classroom is a must. In these sessions, students are to do the majority of the talking and the educator guides with questions and in conversation. Starting with deciding on norms or shared agreements is necessary when engaging in courageous conversations. When you are unpacking these ideas with the students, ensure to offer space to gather student input. It takes time! So be aware that forefronting the time to set these in place together with some practice and preparation for difficult conversations will give you a better opportunity to continue the conversations even when topics are challenging. As educators, we are listening to students’ thoughts and ideas gathering assessment and meeting students where they are at in their understanding. What I love most about facilitating conversation is that students can all enter the space of discussions to learn with and from one another, focussing on their brilliance instead of waiting for me to give them the ‘right’ answer.

These are just a few reflections that I have been exploring conversations in the classroom. As a strategy to help build my understanding and to provide space for student voice, I find conversation to be a vital part of my teaching practice and for developing my own critical thinking skills. Give it a try and see how it goes! It might surprise you to hear the brilliant voices of your students!

Food is my mother’s love language. She meticulously prepares cultural meals, searching for hard-to-find ingredients that are only sold in Asian stores – or sometimes that are only found growing in our garden or in the gardens of family friends. It was the aroma of family recipes from far away islands that greeted us coming home from school that expressed the extent of her love. Even long, exhausting days at work didn’t stop her from standing over bubbling pots and woks, stirring and mixing and frying. It was this love that assured us of all she did to nourish our bodies and souls.

In school, all of that was hidden. This love language translated into something that mirrored the dominant culture – peanut butter and jam sandwiches, apples and orange slices – something that was presentable and acceptable in public. The fluffy white rice was traded in for sliced bread and the light, delicate pancit bihon made space for cheese and crackers. The message that sometimes love had to look and sound and smell differently in different spaces and sometimes that’s how love protected us from teasing and comments that might make us feel like we did not belong. Sandwiches didn’t mean that we weren’t loved, it just meant that we were loved more freely at home when we were together. At home we could love one another in any language we chose.

I like to think that these things have changed since those days, but I see my nieces and nephews from the Philippines not eating their lunches at school. During supervision, I sometimes catch the comments at lunch hour from students who don’t understand the impact of their words and I see the reaction of those who are hurt by them.

My first attempt to counter this was to read a book about other cultures to my students. I thought if we could just read about culture, traditions, and foods, it would be enough to build empathy and help everyone to feel welcome and included. Simply reading a book would help us all understand food and belonging and love in a way that would change our community. However, I noticed that even the best books needed to be accompanied by conversation and community building. Beautiful stories and illustrations wouldn’t be enough without the invitation to humanize ourselves and others. Conversations would open the space for us to all share and build connections with one another.

Once I chose a book to read, I started by inviting the children into the conversation with my intention. This invitation sounded like, “I have some favourite foods that are important to me. I really love it when my family gets together because we like to eat spring rolls and pancit and those foods remind me of how much we love each other. Does anyone else have food that reminds them of their family?” This guided conversations around the idea of how important and special things are to each person, even when those things are different. Next, I introduced the text by saying, “In this story, we’re going to learn about one character’s special food. I want you to listen and see if you can find out what makes that food special.” Focussing their attention on what I was looking for helped us to stop during the reading and make notes of what we were reading.

The first book we read helped to celebrate foods and family, called Cora Cooks Pancit. We talked about and wrote about our important foods, using describing words about the flavours and textures and anything else we could brainstorm. The second book we read highlighted a misunderstanding between friends who were judging one another’s lunches, called The Sandwich Swap. We read this book with the intention of deciding together how we should treat each other, what we can do when we make a mistake, and how we can move forward when that happens. We learned how to be respectful when something is different from our experiences and how to help everyone to feel comfortable in class.

Finding the right book is challenging, but sometimes we don’t always need a text to navigate these conversations. Sometimes it’s a photo, a video, or a song that can spark how we engage in community conversation together. Sometimes it’s just sharing a story about my own life that the students can connect with and that allows for conversations to begin. In any of these opportunities to build an understanding of each other’s humanity, children are learning and sharing about themselves while they are learning about others.

It’s an imperfect solution to building belonging, but I think it’s a good place to start. I still dream of schools being accepting places where masking identity doesn’t feel necessary, where celebrating the entirety of ourselves is encouraged. I imagine a space where parents don’t have to learn a new love language and can hold onto traditions and cultural norms tightly, sending their children to school wrapped securely in comfort and confidence in their identity. I hope that these intentional decisions move us one step closer and that we can, by modeling and sharing, let all students know we care. I like to think, as an educator, that is my love language to students and families. We see you and celebrate you. You belong here.

Every summer, ETFO hosts a number of different Summer Academy sessions across the province and hosted by different ETFO locals. This past July I had the pleasure of attending a Summer Academy hosted by ETFO Niagara Teachers’ Local. This three day learning workshop was a definite highlight in my professional learning.

The topic of this Summer Academy was ‘Digital Literacy: Student Led Podcasts’. The fabulous duo, Chey and Pav, were the session leaders. These elementary teachers from Toronto have their own podcast called “The Chey and Pav Show: Teachers Talking Teaching” and shared with us ways in which we can bring podcasting to the classroom. We started the first day learning about what podcasting is and thinking about why it is important. Podcasting can be a way for students to find their voices. They can share about issues that are important to them, such as social justice issues or items they’ve learned about in the news. Podcasting is also so creative in that one can add music, video, or pictures that can help enhance the storytelling experience. It offers students a multitude of ways to utilize the writing process in a way that is practical; helping to develop writing and editing and critical thinking skills in a meaningful context.

The first day was so important in setting the stage to build a safe community, learn about one another, and feel comfortable in sharing our own voices. By the second day, we began to learn how podcasting could be used in schools. It was fascinating to think of all the possibilities, from engaging with the school and parent community to providing ways for students to engage in the creation of their own podcasts. By day three, we were writing our own scripts and becoming familiar with using a variety of equipment and software.

I loved that this learning experience provided educators with learning that was practical and allowed us to gain the confidence to try something new in the classroom. There were real life examples of how podcasting looked, ideas on why it is engaging for students, and gave us the time to gain hands-on practice with a variety of equipment. Learning was accessible and shared by teachers with experience for all the educators to be comfortable with our new found skills. In addition, participants were encouraged to build community with other teachers through conversation, project work, and feedback. It was also exciting to learn that the equipment needed could be as simple as chromebooks or as advanced as a full podcasting studio. I loved being the ‘student’ so that I could remember what it was like to be a new learner in a new situation and to think about what I needed to help me become more comfortable to take risks.

I have been to many ETFO professional learning opportunities over the years, such as after school professional workshops at our ETFO local office, women’s programs delivered by ETFO Provincial, and more. Each time I return from professional learning inspired and empowered to think more deeply about my practice and try something new. This year, I encourage you to reach out to your local ETFO office or keep your eyes peeled for ETFO Provincial professional learning opportunities. It’s a fantastic way to connect with other educators across the province, take part in some fabulous learning, and gain the courage to try something new.

Perhaps you’ve heard the story of the legendary Tina Turner. Although she was born Anna Mae Bullock and had been crowned the Queen of Rock and Roll, the name she fought to keep was her stage name Tina Turner. As the story goes, her first husband gave her this stage name thinking that if she ever left the band he would be able to replace her with another ‘Tina Turner’. Upon leaving the marriage, keeping her name was so important to her that she had it included in her divorce agreement. Tina knew that she had built that name and stage presence and it encapsulated her hard work, talent, and determination to succeed. Ultimately, she won that right.
I’m reminding you of this story because I think it captures exactly how important our names are to people. Names are a huge part of our identities. At times they link us to culture and family while other times they represent the parts of us that we know deeply and personally about ourselves. They can demonstrate a transition or change in our identities – sometimes changing surnames, for example, due to marriage, divorce, adoption, or choice. Sometimes that looks like changing a first name, using a different version or a name that better fits one’s gender identity. Other times people may choose to be recognized by their nicknames or terms of endearment. In fact, in my Filipino culture it is common for people to have their birth name and another name that is more commonly used. I have some cousins that we fondly call ‘Bong’ and ‘Nene’, for example.
When we honour students’ names, we are telling them how important they are to us. It creates a classroom environment where students can feel seen, acknowledged, and respected. It models acceptance for the other students in the class and we are being given a gift of knowing a child for who they know they are and want to be. We may know students who will change their names several times throughout their schooling and it’s important that they feel supported and accepted.
How do we honour students’ and their names, whether they are chosen or given or changing? The first step is to be approachable and open minded. Know that students may have names you have never heard before; ask them to teach you how to say their names properly. This shows them how important it is to you, as the educator, that they have advocacy over how they want to be addressed at school. Should students decide they want to be called a different name than what appears on their school registry, abide by their wishes. Sometimes that’s a change in name and it’s okay to ask whether they want you to share this information with the class or if they are just inviting you to know them. It’s our job to keep them safe and to respect their privacy and wishes.
Discuss varied and real life examples of why people change their names. Share your own story if you’re comfortable! I often share my story of how it is common for people to change their names after they marry, but I chose to keep my name because it reminds me of how close I am with my own mother. It’s important to allow space for students to understand that identity can be determined in different ways, including conscious choice of what feels right or best for oneself. Share the public stories of famous people who talk about their names to build understanding as to why it’s important to honour and respect one another.
Ultimately, using the right names with correct pronunciation are a way we show care and respect for ourselves and each other. That can set the tone for the classroom spaces we cultivate. It’s important for students to feel seen for their authentic selves and as the educator in the room, we can model that explicitly. Names are so powerful and so deeply necessary for all of us to feel seen and validated. As the late, great Tina Turner said, “I’ll give up all that other stuff, but only if I get to keep my name. I’ve worked too hard for it.”

We who cultivate
come from homes and histories
diverse and the gardens of
orchids and hibiscus,
marigolds and plumeria,
peonies and plum blossoms
blanketing our lands in rich tapestries of color.

This past May, a beautiful picture book by author Joanna Ho and artist Amanda Phingbodhipakkiya was released called We Who Produce Pearls: An Anthem for Asian America. Both of these amazing Asian women have worked so hard to amplify Asian identity throughout their work in different modalities. As a children’s author, Joanna Ho invites us to learn about Asian heritage through beautiful stories that celebrate culture, family, and identity. Artist Amanda Phingbodhipakkiya’s vibrant and inspiring artwork has reclaimed space in museums, galleries, at protests and rallies, on buildings in classrooms and even on the cover of Time magazine. Seeing these two wonderful artists collaborate on this book was so inspiring!
You may have read some of Joanna Ho’s stories, Eyes that Kiss in The Corners, Eyes that Speak to the Stars, and Eyes that Weave the World’s Wonders, but We Who Produce Pearls has a very different celebratory flavour. It isn’t a linear picture book story with a defined plot; instead, it celebrates each page with a poetic proclamation brought to life through Phingbodhipakkiya’s bold style. The artists have striven to give the reader a view of the contributions and historically cultural identity of the diversity among Asian Americans while drawing connections between the shared histories.
While this is a picture book, I have used this in junior and intermediate classes. I have found that it’s lyrical style and vocabulary lends itself more to older grades for analysis and reflection. The illustrations have such a myriad of representation and expression that students are able to recognize emotions in the portraits. Although each page has a different stanza beginning with ‘We who…” the book is lengthy and when using it, I recommend investing the time with your classes to build their understanding. One strategy might be to read the book together, sharing your wonderings and thoughts about the illustrations and stanzas. Remember to be responsive to the children, I’ve found that reading picture books a few pages at a time with intentional conversation can cultivate better engagement and learning over reading a book in it’s entirety then revisiting.
What I really love is that at the end of the book, there is “An Invitation to Dig Deeper and Continue Learning”. Each stanza has it’s own set of guiding questions and suggested starting points for learning and research. These include so many options, such as historical events, people, textiles, and more. While it is American-based, the shared histories are so important in shaping how Asian Canadian experience has been influenced by world events. There are many parallels to be drawn out in conversation or research about Asian Canadian history. Both educators and students can benefit from this section – researching and discussing more information that helps us to understand the author’s intention in her writing. Perhaps extending this to sharing the information with one another or highlighting their favourite page or illustration.
At the end of the book is a beautiful call to dream about the future. It inspires Asian Americans to embrace their cultural heritage, understand the influence of their ancestors, and continue to grow in brilliance. It’s a beautiful way to celebrate Asian Heritage Month or to analyse a different way to express one’s own identity.

“We have always risen up, spoken out, stepped into our power, shaped our space.”

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.