Will Gourley Constant Learning, COVID19, Emergency Distance Learning, General, Making a Difference Through Education, Resilience, self reflection, Year End Reflection

2020 – the roller coaster no one in education asked to ride

Please secure any loose items and keep your hands inside the car at all times.
Do not exit the ride until it comes to a full and complete stop.

Most of the time the exhilaration of a fast fun paced ride, filled with brief mind boggling G-forces, would come next. At an amusement park perhaps, but it is 2020 after all, and this ain’t your average roller coaster of a year. From the get go, it was destined to be different as it was determined to distinguish itself from the decades of other “normal” years before it. To add even more gravity to the moment, we all had take this ride, and hold on for dear life regardless of height. I want to share what it felt like for me this year.

2020 AsAroLLerCoaSTerInEdUcatIon

Instead of the fun and excitement that might normally have been anticipated, this year felt more like being in a time warped slow motion sequence while being suffocated inside of a dumpster that was on fire and rolling down a steep mountain. WEEEE! quickly gave way to AAAGHH!!!

Everytime I opened the lid of my own flaming dumpster car to look out at 2020, I saw flashes of things to grieve, endure, flee, confront, fix, stretch, and learn from.

It was as if the ride was designed to keep going non-stop and at a nauseating speed while everyone was expected to remain strapped in and trying not to lose what they brought on the ride. At times, it felt like working in a vacuum. My lungs empty of air while my mind and body rush up and over the same structure over and over again.

2020 AsAroLLerCoaSTerInEDucaTIon

A year.
A strike.
A job action.
A global pandemic.
A great deal of uncertainty.
A move to emergency distance learning.
A realization that not everything is equitable.
A lack of direction, support and resources at times.
A realization that things may never be the same again.
A new virtual space to occupy, connect, and teach within.
A nagging concern that students may not be coping with this.
A continuous uncertainty around teaching in September.
A cautious return to the classroom – or virtual school.
A heightened vigilance around masks and sanitizing.
A disruptive reorganization with new schedules.
A newly updated math curriculum added in.
A cough that clears crowded classrooms.
A constant need for mask checks.
A need to maintain distances.
A muting mask and shield.
A gasp for fresh air.
A firm resolve.
A bit of hope.
A new year.
A dream.

As this ride finally runs out of track, I’m thankful to be physically in one piece, but still in need of greater peace of mind over this winter break. Recovering from this ride is going to take time. While figuratively staggering off of this year’s roller coaster, I am already heading back to the line to wait and go again.

Looking back on the past 52 weeks of this ride, I am trying to see how this year shaped my personal practice as an educator. I mean, the 2020 roller coaster possessed all the thrilling twists, stomach churning turns, dizzying highs, and sinking lows which no one could have expected. It came as no surprise then that enjoying the ride, catching my breath, or being able to re-orient myself relative to the world around me would not come easy. Despite it all, I find myself resolved to bend, blend or break what has been my instructional practice in order to do better in 2021.

It is perhaps because of this discombobulation, I have questioned everything that I have ever done as an educator. Stay tuned to see where this goes.

In the meantime expressions of gratitude, encouragement, and optimism to all educators who held on through the tumultuous ride that was education in 2020. You have indeed been the models of grace, resilience, resolve, creativity, persistance, and integrity in our profession. You have been inspirations to me whenever I lifted the lid of my flaming dumpster car to look out and take a breath. I’m looking forward to teaching in 2021 because of y0u.

 

Will Gourley Assessment and Evaluation, Challenging Topics, Constant Learning, Differentiated Instruction, General, Modern Learning, Resources

Brutalist worksheets

Have you ever seen something that made you wonder whether it’s sole purpose was to make you feel small or insignificant? I don’t mean this in feelgood sort of humbling way like you might ponder a mountain’s majesty or an ocean’s depth. I mean, the way you feel uneasy when looking at a decades old worksheet from a resource 20 to 25 years past its pedogogical prime – where thought and creativity were never part of its iterations. I’m talking about copy after copy of soul sucking work pages given to students only to be regurgitated upon with rote facts and little, if any, critical thought. Let’s call them Brutalist worksheets because, like the architecture, they make the learner to feel small, and powerless, and the learning devoid of inspiration.

Over the years, I have found a number of Brutalist offerings left behind in the photo-copiers, and they make me shudder a bit to think that they were destined for students’ desks and to inevitable irrelevance shortly thereafter. I’d like to say this is a long distant memory, but it is still happening in 2020.

20 years into 21st Century learning and brutalist worksheets are still being shared. But first a bit about Brutalism.

Minds On

In the creative world of architecture there are several styles that have pervaded through history. We have remnants of the Victorian, Mid-Century Modern, Art Deco, and Modernist eras that occupy much of the past century and its edifices. There is another that cannot be overlooked because of it’s austere, raw, and imposing nature, Brutalism.

Brutalism, but this is a blog for teachers? Why are we having an architecture lesson? Why not? After all, design is design and the way that we construct, craft, curate, and create content for our students matters. It is inconceivable to think it can be done without consideration of the learners we are teaching or without differentiation.

Imagine a stark and unwelcoming piece of paper that seems as if it’s sole intention is to crush your spirit. Next, think of a page full of Math calculation questions that you have been handed, and are now expected to complete before the 2 or 3 minute timer goes off. Think of a different, but equally oppressive Math sheet with instructions, but no guiding example or room to show your thinking? Think of a double-sided sheet of French -er, ir, and -re verbs to conjugate. Brutal and absolutely intended as rote busy work to keep students from being their best.

I was visting a school a few years back and came across a teacher with a stack of photocopies at least 1500 pages or more in total. I asked if this was for a whole school letter to which they replied that it was for their classroom followed by, “You have to keep ’em busy somehow.” I walked away very sad at that moment and have tried to hang on to that interaction as a reminder of what not to do.

Brutalism in our profession has no business in any of our classroom resources. In fact, we need to seriously consider the function and purpose of everything we are printing for students. It starts by cleaning out the cabinets and binders that contain outdated worksheets. I know it means having to start fresh for some, but imagine the potential for deeper learning rather than a time filler destined for the recycle bin? Perhaps doing this over the course of the year will make it less daunting. With so many digital tools at our fingertips now, creating and updating content is easier than those Xerox days of yore.

Our shift to digital learning has allowed many of us to curate constructive content with links that are informative and interactive. There are also environmental and financial benefits from avoiding copy after copy too. With a suite of apps and productivity tools. Teachers can create these spaces from a trove of templates and fellow educators who are willing to share. No need for TPT here.*

Start with the incredible digital resources being shared from your school board and from a cohort of amazing educators via Twitter. I know that PeelDSB, TDSB, DurhamDSB, and YRDSB have provided many excellent resources to their staff, and am sure there are more boards out there doing the same for theirs. If you want to start your own, you can always check out Ditch that Textbook, Mathigon, Shukes and Giff, TV Ontario, and TED Ed for ideas. If you have a favourite, please share in the comments below.

All that I ask is that you resist the urge to hit the copy button without considering the content you intend to share with students. Will it make them feel insignificant and under-inspired? Then you might have a brutalist worksheet in your hands and it might be time to go back to the drawing board to design something inviting and engaging to students as modern learners.

* I always think of toilet paper when I see TPT. Sorry, not sorry.

Will Gourley agency, Challenging Topics, Equity, General, Making a Difference Through Education, Social Justice, Student wellbeing, Wellbeing

About those indoor shoes

Winter’s coming and as I share this on the eve of December and our possible first snow day of the 20-21 school year, the timing is intentional.

Recently, I had a moment of clarity while greeting students at the door of my classroom. It started out simply enough as they returned after a snowy midday recess. Amid our usual pleasantries it happened – a simple and often overlooked aspect of privilege kicked me in the thoughts as I welcomed students back inside. Although, there was nothing out of the ordinary on this particular day, all I could think about, in that moment, was indoor shoes.

You know, that 2nd pair of shoes students are expected to bring from home, that stay at school, so they can change in and out of for recess and indoor activities. The ones that every student is told they are supposed to have. The same shoes that can be found classrooms away from their owners’ personal effects after being dribbled down the hallways soccer style by budding Christine Sinclairs and Alphonso Davies’. Those indoor shoes. 

Although an extra pair of shoes might be a small issue for many of us, I wonder whether asking students to have a dedicated pair of shoes to change into for inside school exagerates the socio-economic divisions that are obvious in many of our communities. After nearly 2000 days in the classroom, I am only seeing the ability to bring a second pair of shoes as an indicator of privilege, and that got me thinking about equity.

So, I’ll ask. Do you think that requiring/expecting students to have a 2nd pair of indoor shoes is unfair to those who are unable? Have schools become too demanding to expect this considering that many families are living pay check to paycheck? How are educators working to support their learners without isolating or alienating them by their supportive actions? Don’t even get me started about winter boots.

Clearly, there is a fine line to tread and I am wondering what’s changed, what needs to change in the way we were are doing things, and what else have I/you/we been missing? 

What’s changed? 

Nothing and it is not going to either as long as our socio-political and economic structures remain the same, we will always have students coming to school from places of unearned disadvantages being asked to act like they do not.

When we know that students are in need, how do we as a school community genuinely support them equitably? Is there a way that we can help while being discrete in our actions? One way might be by intentionally looking the other way while still making a note of things like a single pair of shoes, no boots, or a lack of weather protective garments rather than confronting their lack of them outright. How do we provide help without awkward and uncomfortable moments for a child?

What needs to change?

There will always be students with needs. Even though we might have enough, and it looks like they have enough. It is easy to be fooled into inaction by the belief that their enough is actually enough. When students are sent to school with a lunch to eat at school, it’s not obvious at first look whether it is the only meal they are having each day. It starts at relationships. 

Knowing the learner is the key here. Without it, we risk allowing students to fall through the cracks. With recent restrictions to work due to the pandemic, it is becoming clearer that families are living in more precarious circumstances. That fancy car that drops students off at the kiss and ride each morning may about to be repossessed. The top dollar running shoes and brand name everything to wear seems incongruous to the jam sandwich or mac and cheese everyday that those same students are bringing for lunch. I am always hopeful that the child really likes the same lunch everyday, but am also watchful whether it is an indicator that something else is going on outside of school.

What else have I/you/we been missing?

Even though I have used indoor shoes as the soul of this post, they are not the sole indicators of unidentified needs or inequities. At-risk students are everywhere in our hallways. I am trying to pay attention to their actions, words, and body language. I never want to look back on this time and think that our students slipped through the cracks without our support. Conversations with other colleagues also help to fill in the blanks if something doesn’t seem right. It has become second nature to ask a student how their day is going. It is also important to include all of the community resources available to schools too. 

If we pay attention to the little signs, we have an excellent chance to close some of the gaps for our students. It might be as simple as connecting families with access to community supports they may not have known about. This may be a simple as ensuring that there is English language assistance for them when it comes to access. For others, it might mean ensuring there is something extra to eat available for any who are experiencing food security issues. For others it might mean an invitation to help out in class during a particularly cold day at recess. 

Whatever the circumstances, we can walk alongside students as they learn to fill the shoes that are waiting for them in the future. 

Thanks to Tim Bradford and Nicolette Bryan @ACPS for their wisdom and candour while discussing this topic. 

Further Reading:

Equity: The Missing Piece of Most Back-to-School Conversations

Will Gourley 21st Century Learning, Advocacy for change, Black Lives Matter, Building Inclusion, Challenging Topics, Constant Learning, Equity, Inclusion, Inspiring Students, LGBTQ2S

About those special days at school Pt 2.

This post is a continuation of About those special days at school Pt 1. Both seek to make sense of a number of events in and out of the classroom over the month of October. I believe it serves as an excellent snapshot of the incredible amounts of effort, organization, and attention that educators put into this calling on behalf of students even when faced with the extraordinary circumstances of 2020. In that context alone there is nothing to refute. However, my goal is to continue working through this month’s mind purge along the contiuum towards anti-racist education and equity – something that cannot be contained by a day, a month or a year. Hence…

I get it. I feel the fatigue of being an educator during a pandemic.
I see it in your eyes and via your posts on social media.

I get that not everyone is at the same place on the anti-racist continuum.
This is not a virtue signalling contest. We are not playing.

I’ve heard that we have to tread lightly for fear of offending someone’s feelings(privilege). This is not about codling your fragility or mine at the expense of someone else’s existence. There will be no emotional power plays allowed here, but that doesn’t mean we don’t hold power. In fact that has been one of the biggest barriers to authentic change in the past and now because we are part of a system that has held all of the power. I’ll let that sink in.

You, me, us have benefitted for a long time from the systems that have been created to oppress others. Don’t run away. I promise something good can come from all of this if we listen, unlearn, and work together.

I know that acknowledging and reconciling issues of systemic racism take a lot of emotional energy. I hear it directly from friends, in group chats, and through the silences about how draining and frightening it can be. There has never been a better time to recharge your batteries than by taking the next steps along the continuum with others on the same journey. You’ll find you have more stamina to overcome your fears than you thought.

Tired or not, this does not mean we cannot take on the necessary work that needs to be done to undo 400+ years of colonialism and systemic racism in our country and education system. I fear that failing to face our discomfort(fear) or to foster learning around systemic issues will be far more detrimental to the future than any ignorantly bliss days we have without it. This is not the time to sit on the sidelines of history. There is too much at stake, but with so much happening all at the same time, it is easy to see how it can be put on the back burner in our schools. It doesn’t have to mean that the heat is off though.

My October

October started at a brisk pace. If by brisk you mean tornadic and unpredicatable for students and staff in class and online, you nailed it. So, it should surprise no one that there was not a lot of time to tackle tough topics during that first week with a reorganized larger class and new schedule. Did I mention it was Islamic Heritage Month? Reminder to self. Share with students and ask them what it means to them and how should be approach learning more about it?  Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving if you celebrate that! Remember that the history of Thanksgiving has ties to settlers who broke treaties with First Nations across North America. No school on Monday.

Week 2 – routines falling into place. Did someone switch the hand sanitizer for some cheap booze? Students nearly retching as the virus killing juice splashes their hands. Wipe down markers, pencils, technology, and anything with a surface repeatedly. The realization that some concepts taught during Emergency Distance Education may not be easily recallable or cemented. Looking your way Math. Hey, don’t forget to wear purple to show support and solidarity for  2SLGBTQ+ youth who have been bullied for their identities. Reminder to self. Revist conversation about Islamic Heritage month.

Week 3 – Math, Language, AP level Sanitizing and distancing, classroom closure due to possible COVID 19 Case. Staff and students on edge. Conversations around the Mi’kmaq First Nation and  about Black Lives Matter that leave my bucket filled by students asking more questions and forming some critical connections. Don’t forget to talk to your parents about virtual meet the teacher night next week. Reminder to self. Visit board web site for resources and events for Islamic Heritage month and share with staff. Done and done. Make sure to mention the significant contributions to Math from Islamic and Indian mathematicians. Wonder how to extend learning about Islamic heritage further into future months.

Week 4 – See prior week and add in 2 sessions of virtual meet the teacher night, a morning of PD planning for our staff leadership team, an assessment or two, a realization that Friday is the day before Hallowe’en and that the place is already going a bit bonkers with the excitement. Debate over decorations or not? Not. Debate over distribution of candy in class to students and how to do it safely in times of COVID 19 while tying it into a wonderful Data Management and Number Sense activity. Done and done with a few sweet treats to spare. Send students home happy, safe, and full of treats.

Throughout the entire month we tried to tackle issues that are relevant beyond a single day. No pumpkin spiced worksheets, word searches, or TPT drivel was necessary to make the month meaningful. My only regret was not taking more time to check in one on one with my newer students a bit more. We had a few rough days that still need refining, and their resilience has been admirable despite the long shadows of COVID 19. Next month will be better.

With November smashing down the door, my class will be embracing the learning from a whole new set of special days. Many of them specific to November such as Holocaust education week and Remembrance Day. It is my goal to make each one meaningful and relevant for my students while continuing to instruct through culturally responsive relevant pedagogy and anti-BIPOC racism focus. Sorry, there will be no themed worksheets this month either.

Note to self: Complete progress reports and confirm virtual parent interviews. Stay safe. Stay strong.

 

Will Gourley Equity, General, Inclusion

About those special days at school pt 1.

The end of October finds me at an intriguing intellectual crossroad this year, and I wonder if anyone else has come to it too? You see, I have noticed that there seems to be a lot more hype around certain, let’s call them superficial things, than others this month. This got me thinking about why it is this way, and what I could do about preventing more of the same for the rest of the year and beyond?

To be clear, respect and equity are at the heart of all this. Other than the Mike Harris years, teachers at all points in their careers are overcoming challenges unlike any time in our history. So I know this post might cause a few jocular utterances and for some retrospection to occur, but it is solely written to strengthen the spirit of education and the heart and art of teaching.

Inclusion and equity.

Two incredibly important words that we hear at the start of the school year and then only infrequently afterwards. After all there is so much curriculum to teach and damn you if you miss a single specific expectation for some reason even though the meaningful and culturally relevant lessons you’re sharing mean a world of difference to students marginalized by systems of oppression such as poverty and racism. So how are you prioritizing Inclusion and equity in your classroom? I am thinking through this question too and to be completely transparent, it has its difficult moments. So I work towards what works in my practice – relationship building.

For me it starts with knowing the students beyond their assignments and test scores. This means listening, and it is harder than it seems. Especially, when educators are falsely tricked into believing that their voices are the ones to be heard the most. I have learned that the more listening that I lead in the classroom, the deeper we are able to go in our level of care towards one another, the stronger our classroom community grows, and the more committed that each student becomes towards their learning.

In order to ensure that each student is comfortable and feels included; here are a few things to consider for now and the future that have helped me when it comes to special days in my classroom.

Start at the beginning

Discuss the history behind the special days with your students. Sharing origin stories, values, and beliefs can be really engaging. It is a wonderful way to remove assumptions and to create an interactive and open space. When it comes to special days it is good to know whether learners observe these days or not. This can vary from community to community too. October is a month filled with many opportunities to build bridges in your classroom each time students are able to share. By and large though, the most prevalent are Thanksgiving, Islamic Heritage(month), Purple Shirt Day(s), and Hallowe’en.

For all the right reasons I may have intentionally bypassed Thanksgiving. Not out of ingratitude, but more out of a deeper need to remain focused on continuing our deeper inquiry into Residential Schools as an extension of Orange Shirt Day. Remember that conversations around Truth and Reconciliation do not need to be confined to a single day. In fact, my grade 4/5s extended their learning into thoughtful conversations around the injustice and racist behaviour of settlers towards the Mi’kmaq First Nation in Nova Scotia. This was a direct extension of the critical thinking work students developed as a result of not celebrating Orange Shirt Day, and will serve as a lens for future work we interleave this year.

What I found very powerful from our collective learning was how students were willing to call it like they saw it. In some ways, teachers have to be prepared for the blunt and brutal honestly of students in a way that does not lead to a perception that they are being disrespectful. It then becomes our job to refine these moments, but not censure them as behavioural or compliance issues. Students are entitled to be angry when they learn of injustices and inequities in the world around them.

Imagine how mad they were when they began to read about Black Lives Matter and the tragic deaths of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and countless other victims at the hands of racist oppressors. Here’s what mine said:

Why would anyone be racist?
Racism is stupid!
Racists are stupid! What is wrong with these people?

It took courage to say this. It took a safe place to make it happen. Grade 4 and 5 students speaking truth with clarity and wisdom that excedes many. Watching all of this unfold told me that students are more than able to process and respond to issues around systemic racism as evidenced in our discussions and responses around Residential Schools, the Mi’kmaq First Nation, and Black Lives Matter. Is it possible that we as educators have placed an invisible age barrier between our students and the world around them when we do not include them in our classrooms?

I’ll leave this part with one more question to ponder.

Is it easier to share a seasonally themed non-confrontational worksheet instead?

In About those special days at school Pt 2, I will continue sharing some of my approaches to teaching tough subject material to students and how to approach calender cliches with caution. Please click on.

 

Will Gourley Building Inclusion, Challenging Topics, General, Inuit, Making a Difference Through Education, Resources, Truth and Reconciliation

We didn’t “celebrate” Orange Shirt Day

This tweet hit me square in the brain. It was neither confrontational nor rude. It was simply a sublimely and sage sentence that stuck. I said it over and over again while researching, reading, and reflecting while preparing to teach about Residential Schools on September 30th.

“We don’t “celebrate” #OrangeShirtDay.” A simple reminder to all educators and learners.

So before we started our learning today, I told my 2 grade 4/5 English classes that “this was not a celebration.” Today was meant for reflection.

I did compliment them on their numerous orange shirts, and then we were off. The first question was “Why are we wearing these shirts today?” The responses were varied and honest. One student shared how a little girl had her orange shirt taken from her. Another few recalled bits of what they had learned last year, while others seemed like this was all new to them. We went from there?

My next question was, “Have you ever heard of residential schools?” followed by, “What do you know about them?” These two questions led to some solid conversation around the institution of school as we know it compared to the residential schools where First Nations, Metis and Inuit students were forced to attend. I shared about the living conditions, the daily routines, and the terrible food. I added that they could only speak English and would be punished when they didn’t or for a litany of other things for that matter. I wanted to guide students to the understanding that something was wrong with residential schools. They got it.

I could see their eyes and minds opening after explaining how the children were scooped up and taken away for 300 days at a time, far from home, and separated from the only family they knew. Students also learned that the RCMP would arrest families who resisted. And then the question I was hoping for;
“Why were kids taken to residential schools?” Why would they do this?

This became a pivotal point because it led us to a discussion about who “they” were? Putting the brakes on for a moment, I changed they to “colonizers”. The phrase European settlers came up too since we were talking about it. This led to the point where students found out that the government was also part of the “colonizers(they)”, and that their plans included wiping out First Nations, Metis, and Inuit culture through laws and enforcement of racist colonizer policies. The word discrimination came next, followed by a call of racism.

We talked and listened a lot. I shared some connections about how the government tried to label all First Nations as uncivilized savages in order to justify its desire to separate them from their land, their culture, and their dignity.

We talked about the importance of hearing the truth, and that there was more to learn. We promised to continue beyond Orange Shirt Day, and we sat quiet watching this video without sound and then with sound. https://www.nfb.ca/playlists/orange-shirt-day-edu/playback/#2 It was a powerful moment for students to see the images life in a residential school and then to reflect on why we were learning about it.

There were no tacky culturally appropriated mis-interpretations. Orange Shirt Day will not become a seasonal event like Halloween or Valentine’s Day in our schools. We will remember and continue exploring the truth about the legislated genocide attempted by the Canadian government on First Nations, Metis, and Inuit. We will also continue to examine how we continue to benefit from those inhuman actions to this day.

Today was not a day of celebration. September 30th was a day to listen, to become informed, and to reflect on the way that Canada has mistreated the First Nations, Metis and Inuit. We didn’t “celebrate” Orange Shirt Day. We inquired about it. We wrestled with it. We saw residential schools for the terrible places that they were to so many people. We sought to know more of its truth. We wore orange to respectfully remember.

Additional resources:

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1PlV8jUd2WtxcxrTHJK_HtZimP2Usng9k/view

Will Gourley Challenging Topics, Class Size Matters, Classroom Management, COVID19, General, Making a Difference Through Education, Mental Health, Start of the year, Teacher Working Conditions

We’re back and it feels…

  • …like a weird batch of emotions being mixed up in my head everyday. 

I use the word “weird” here as an amalgam of thoughts in order to come to grips with a whole whack of feelings. For now, let’s discuss 4 of the unique states of mind which I have been experiencing. They can be captured by the acronym C.A.G.E – confusion, anger, grief, elation. 

Confusion 

When we said our goodbyes in late June, we went home not knowing what was to come. How could we, no one did? It was a true test of the resilience of our profession as we transitioned from our physical spaces and into the virtual ones. It was emergency distance learning 101 for us all. Nobody knew how long it would go on, or how the students would respond. I recall the incredible stress of having to convert an old table and chair into a workstation at my house, the physiotherapy that came afterwards from my less than ergonomic set-up, and the (a)synchronous instructional awkwardness.

SO, after completing the balance of the academic year online and 3+ weeks of virtual summer school, I was really ready to be back in a classroom. In fact, I was elated at the possibility because things were proceeding as normally as they could as numbers declined and even though everything was up in the air when it came to education. 

At least, our tentative assignments and schedules had been shared, there was more than an air of uncertainty that things were bound to change. Daily news reports, and social media posts had us all still holding our breath. What was school going to look like after “emergency distance learning”? What was the government’s plan? What were are school boards doing to be prepared for September?

Anger

There was no shortage of sound bites and stories to fill in the gaps, and for a fleeting moment in late July, it almost looked like the numbers were dropping enough as if the winds of possibility filled the air. Things began looking positive, yet it was still relatively quiet when it came to direction from our current government when it came to education except that they had experts working on it. Come mid-August, my bubble of hope burst with news of increasing numbers of cases. Any residual confusion had given way to anger and disappointment in this educator. 

When school board emails began coming again in mid-August, the uncertainty around COVID 19 in our schools left us scratching our heads, as we did back in March. Little did we know what was about to drop on us all when school boards began surveying families about their choices for virtual or in class learning? But, that’s a topic for another post. 

It was pretty easy to get angry although it didn’t help. Yelling at the TV, like Grampa Simpson, everytime a new daily increase of cases was announced or at how someone somewhere decided that a large social gathering was a good idea without taking precautions. Seeing newsers with the Minister of Education spinning government yarns about funding increases, which they had stripped, and safety of the students raised my ire too. No wonder I spent so many hours muttering to myself while cleaning the garage in August. “Good grief!”

Grief

I’d like this to be at the Charlie Brown level when he says, “Good Grief,” but it isn’t. One of the single most powerful emotions I have been battling with since March has been grieving the way that education is now divided into B.C. (before COVID-19) and C.E. (COVID-19 Era). I am sad for my students who missed out on perennial rights of passage such as grads, sports, extra-curriculars, and trips. I feel grief for the students who had to stay at home without contact with their friends other than through blue screens. I feel for the adults who struggled to support their children’s learning while juggling their own work. Acknowledging this feeling is my way of trying to move forward in a healthy way. I know there are many teachers who are feeling something similar.

Elation

After great reflection, I chose the classroom option to start this school year. Admittedly, this is a selfish choice, as I thrive in the classroom. My wife mentioned on several occasions that I needed to be back at school too. Although, I am not sure if that was for her sake or mine? Regardless of who benefited most by my return to the classroom, the fact is I was elated to be back, but it also came with a cost. 

I now go for weekly COVID 19 Tests now that my bubble has expanded. With a 96 year old and a spouse with asthma in our home, we are proceeding with great caution. I am wearing a mask and frequently sanitizing my home, trips anywhere are only out of necessity, we are co-ordinating our schedules to reduce interactions so my father in-law does not become at greater risk, and any semblance of a social life or gatherings with extended family outside our residence bubble are now only on the camera roll of my smartphone. Yet, I think it is worth it. 

A stronger feeling of unity amongst colleagues is happening. This turmoil has given rise to a new sense of telepresent professionalism(virtual staff/team meetings). Conversations are fewer, but more meaningful. Smiles are now made more expressive as they are shared behind our masks. All of these little things have made the return to school possible despite the heavy and shifting workload.

Prepping to teach this September has matched the level of confusion and effort of my very first years. It’s tough sledding right now and more changes are ahead as we have only been through a few weeks, but even though my return to the classroom this month has me staggering, I am encouraged and challenged, in a good way, to innovate and adapt.

My head is spinning most days as I grapple to sanitize, mask up, shield up, and emotionally ramp up to teach. Yet, I cannot help, but still find some happiness in all of this each day. And although you can’t see it through my mask, seeing students and staff in real life has become the biggest reason for the smile on my face each day at school despite the CAGE. 

Stay strong. Thanks for reading. 
Will

Note: 

I had the bulk of this post ready to share our first week back, but could not do it. Something was telling me to bank my initial thoughts for a couple of weeks. Maybe I wanted to take some time for the dust to settle in order to make sense of it all. Sadly, it’s still pretty dusty around here, and based on the daily streams of educators sharing their ups and downs via social media, our collective ability to sift through the mess to make sense out of it, and let the dust settle has not occured. Yet. 

Will Gourley Celebrating Success, Emergency Distance Learning, Engaging students with online learning, General, Making a Difference Through Education, Teacher Appreciation, Why unions matter, Year End Reflection

The cold coffee song

 AKA – A parody on a familiar melody dedicated to teachers who finished as strong, after a tough year, if not stronger than the cold beverages in their cups.

Pt 1 (sung to the chorus of Escape, The Pina Colada Song by Rupert Holmes)

Yes I like drinking cold coffee!
And ignoring my chronic back pain.

I am out of the classroom,
At home by pandemic and fate

It’s really hard to be teaching,
sharing through cold blue screens.

It’s become easy to breakdown,
seeing students struggling each day.

Yup, it’s been rough one folx. We have come so far together and we all know that the journey is just beginning. When we look back to the start of the year in September 2019, no one would have believed that we would only be voting on a contract now. No one would have believed  that we would fund our sub-cost-of-living raises by standing up for our rights on the picket lines for 6 days. And no one would have believed that we would not see our students in real life this year past March Break. Judging by what has transpired already, I am pretty sure that the future will be equally unbelievable.

Without a doubt, we’ve shared many highs and lows in our profession over the past 10 months. We have stood together. We have found ways to make a terrible situation nearly tolerable. We have worked from home in makeshift offices at the peril of our own physical detriment. We are all grieving the loss of milestones (graduations, trips, community, playdays, track, and farewells) for the classes of 2020. Yet, we still came up with innovative ways to honour them.

We have parented through a pandemic, and cared for our parents too. We have watched vulnerable communities further separated from opportunities. We witnessed the inequity that exists in presumptions around access and “emergency distance learning.” In all of this we have maintained the dignity and duty of care everyday. On occasion, we even remembered to look after ourselves.

And even though direction from the elected only spilled out like water from a kinked hose, we knew what to do because we knew our students. So when the messages changed it didn’t matter that they came out at the end of the day on a Friday after hours or at all. In the end, teachers knew how to do right by their students. This even meant going on treasure hunts to find marks to fill report cards using a very vague map to cover a number of broad areas.

For my liking, I would love to have scrapped the focus on any marks for this term, and worked within a pass/not yet model.

Pt 2 (sung to the chorus of Escape, The Pina Colada Song by Rupert Holmes)

I am not into health spas.
I won’t ride on busses or Go Trains.

I am not into incomplete reporting
though the data sets must be gained.

I don’t like marking work til midnight
or going without sunlight for days.

I have been teaching from my basement,
and there’s no chance of escape.

The deeds are done and we can look back on them knowing that each teacher poured their heart and soul into their artistry as educators. Like any good gallery, the masterpieces ranged in complexity and beauty regardless of the eyes of the beholder. I’ll leave you with the last chorus to sing however you’d like.

At the heart of education,
We’ll stop at nothing to create,

To make the best of bad situations,
and challenges so hard to relate.

Can’t wait until we’re back in the classroom,
To learn, laugh, and say remember when?

It’s the year that no one planned for,
and hope will never happen again.

Thank you for all of your support over the past year. Wishing you a safe and relaxing summer. Celebrating you all with a cup of something cool and refreshing after I finish this cold cup of coffee.

 

Will Gourley Celebrating Success, Emergency Distance Learning, General, Making a Difference Through Education, self reflection, Teaching online, Year End Reflection

6 Similes to describe how it felt to teach during COVID 19 Quarantine

Teaching during a quarantine was…

Like meaning with no  I, N or G. It was just mean. There were times when it felt forced, and meaningless because I was trying to make sense out of how to do this when it seemed more about keeping students busy and less about how they were feeling. 

Education during a pandemic was…

Like an infomercial. But wait, there’s more! More to do and definitely more to worry about.  Our students went AWOL – They’d gone absent without learning because they couldn’t connect. Their worlds had been turned upside down, and the one place where they could count on from Monday to Friday had been shuttered and now they were shut out. 

Learning for students during COVID 19 was…
Like making a pizza without a crust – there was nothing to hold all of the ingredients in place for students when life’s bigger problems consumed their ability to learn from home. Students needed their teachers to keep things together when things got tough and the class pizza, with all of its different toppings, got thrown into the oven.

Emergency distance learning was…
Like an ice cream cone with a hole in the bottom – the goodness melted away fast  and ended up on your shirt. Either way what was good couldn’t last long and usually there was something to clean up afterwards. I saw my students trying to make the best out of this mess yet there always seemed to be a scoop of some new flavour that no one wanted being added to the problem of learning outside of the classroom. 

Teaching from home during a shutdown felt…
Like performing a symphony where I had to write the score, conduct, play every instrument, and stack the chairs. There were so many little things that consumed the movements and moments of my day. It felt like I was simultaneously teaching a song to 25 individual performers all locked in their own rehearsal spaces.

Distance learning was…
Like running a marathon for the first time. You knew there was a finish line, but couldn’t remember how far you’d run or where you were going once you hit the wall. There came a point where fatigue set in and I began to doubt why I took this on in the first place? Some students hit the wall after the first day while others lasted until being told that the rest of their year at school was done. Even our strongest learners hit the wall at some point. Despite all of my training as a teacher, the toll that the marathon of teaching from home took on my mind and body was significant. I can only imagine how it affected our students.

I’m tired and a bit broken. The breath was stolen from my body when our students went home on March 13th. None of us imagined that we would be away for so long. I was allowed to visit my empty classroom 3 times since then and still hope that this has all been a bad dream. Walking down an empty hall in an empty school denied it’s life breath of students and their teachers was not how any of us would have wished this time in quarantine to be. 

From the onset and onslaught of learning in quarantine we had to work together, to grow together, and to continue learning together. It took time, patience, and grace. Each moment required a willingness to work meaningfully, to seek out those who had gone AWOL, bake a crust under that pizza, put a marshmallow in that cone to stop the good stuff from dripping out, play music until our fingers ached, and get up the next day ready to run the race again. 

The summer finish line has been crossed. We made it. Now where’s that pizza and ice cream?

 

Will Gourley General

Saying, “I am not racist” is not enough pt 2

This is the second of 2 posts about anti-black racism and being anti-racist. Here is a link to Saying “I am not racist” is not enough pt 1.

We are now witnessing some of the most significant events in recent history and they are direct responses to the overtly racist actions of those whose jobs are to protect the community. This is by no means the first time, nor will it be the last – regrettably. The death of George Floyd and other recent national news events have many ideological battle lines being drawn in the fight against racism.

I am hoping that these incidents will not be in vain if they can be used as the origins of how white people see themselves as complicit in perpetuating the racism that has led up to this point through their long and loud silences and that a genuine change can begin to end anti-black racism. Hence these posts.

Years ago, Desmond Tutu shared:

“If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor. “

These words circle in my head right now as I consider how my actions as an educator, or perhaps more accurately, my inactions as an educator have allowed racism to continue without truly being aware of it? Seeing the streets filled with protesters seeking a change to a broken system has given me much to reflect on from the comfort and safety of my home far away. I am watching in fear as I see a system threatening to turn violently against them and at the racists who are using these tragedies as a tool to sew further seeds of their hatred and intolerance.

The events of the past week have amplified hundreds of years of inequality, inequity, and injustice in the social contracts of western society. Trevor Noah shared this so eloquently, that when the contracts that society pretends to adhere and uphold are continually broken, then what is keeping all of us from lashing out against the systems that are not honouring them as well? The only way I know how to answer this beyond changing my own actions is through education.

That got me looking for ideas on how to invite and be open to change. Here’s what I have gleaned from countless educators and activists so far that I am ready to do right now;

  1. Take a stand. Start by getting off of the fence. Stop saying “I am not racist”.
  2. Be prepared to be uncomfortable, to be called out, and to be challenged.
  3. Take stock of my past.
    Reflect on what needs to be done better to make a difference to stop anti-black racism.
  4. Excuse myself from having a saviour complex.
    Offering support not salvation.
  5. Ask and reflect about what are some of my privileges?
  6. Let my classroom resources reflect culturally relevant anti-racist convictions
  7. Let conversations with students turn into listening sessions where ideas and understandings can be turned into growth and deeper knowledge.
  8. Think about how I can leverage my privilege and position as a white male cisgendered educator to effect change.

I am sure there are more things to add to this list as I go forward, but I also need to be mindful of making choices and decisions that can be achievable without feeling overwhelmed or giving up the moment when things get tough. I am ready to apologize for mistakes I have made, am making, and will make. Relying on others is going to be a big part of my growth. Acknowledging that there is so much more to learn will play a huge part in going forward.

Consider the straight forward advice in this recent social media post from Mireille Cassandra Harper as a perfect place to ponder and equip for the journey to allyship.

We have the means to be on the side that helps change history. As educators, we can use our privilege of being agents of societal change and good citizenship to help change the values of students/society to be truly anti-racist. It will come with discomfort, change, and fresh perspectives that may not match past experiences. However, as change occurs, it will also come with a community capable of seeing everyone within it included, respected, and valued.

Accepting that meaningful change will not happen overnight is something else for me to work past, but I know that these are my first public steps to do so. I want all educators to understand the urgency that I share in this post and encourage you to be part of making this the change that needs to take place. It starts with saying, “I am anti-racist!”

Huge thanks to Ms E Ng for her genuine, supportive, and critical feedback in the writing of these posts.