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When we drive by a school and see a person in a bright vest with a stop sign in hand, we look out for children being helped to cross the road. Although the main role of crossing guard is safety, I have been lucky to know crossing guards who make students more comfortable with their friendly and caring manner. A warm greeting in the morning can help a student feel welcome and reduce their anxiety about going to school. I appreciate the important role of crossing guards in our communities!

I was excited to have the book, A Practical Present for Philippa Pheasant by Briony May Smith, recommended to me because it features a crossing guard who wants to help forest animals cross the road safely. Published in 2022 by Walker Books in London, England, this story is targeted at grades K-3, although I will always advocate to read more picture books to older students, including this one!

Pre-reading Discussion

Ask the students if they have had experience with a crossing guard. Do they think crossing guards are important community helpers? Why or why not?

Vocabulary

Given that this book was written in England, some terms will need explaining. 

Lollipop Person – crossing guard (the lollipop refers to the hand help stop sign)

Zebra Crossing – the common term for a crosswalk in the United Kingdom

Torches – the term for flashlights in the United Kingdom.

Other words that may need explaining: peculiar, triumph, fowl, distraught, ordeal, roused, preening, and nocturnal.

During Reading

When the mayor is introduced, we may need to guide younger students to understand his role and that he is jealous of the attention Phillipa is getting. When he decides to award a present to Philippa, we can ask, “I wonder if our crossing guard has ever had a present?”

After Reading

The Ontario transportation council recognizes School Crossing Guard Appreciation Week June 1-5, 2026. Some municipalities and school boards also recognize March 23rd as an appreciation day for school Crossing Guards. Teachers, we can show appreciation any day of the school year so here are some suggestions and cross-curricular activities. 

Writing Thank You Letters: Depending on your grade level this could be shared writing or completed in partners or independently. Have the class brainstorm what it’s like for crossing guards to be out in all kinds of weather, meeting different people, and stopping all those vehicles. We can thank them for their kindness, bravery, and perseverance. For older students this could include making a slide deck with photographs of the crossing guard at work.

 Drama: Creating a Crossing Guard Skit: Invite the crossing guard to see your class perform skits that they have created about the job. The skits could each have a different plot such as close calls with drivers who are not paying attention until the whistle blows, children who are rescued when they fall down, or short conversations while waiting for traffic that help students have a good day at school.

Visual Art: Create a wordless picture book with student drawings of the crossing guard at work. Encourage a variety of styles of pictures in different weather and clothing. Some pictures could be close up portraits while others could be the landscape of the street featuring the crossing guard.

Media: The National Film Board produced a vignette called Crossing Guards in 1978. I recommend showing it to the class to compare the job to the current day. Do they see similarities? Differences?

Social Studies: Grade 1, The Local Community: In a class discussion, review the role of a crossing guard and how this position is helpful in the community. What would happen if crossing guards did not exist?

No Crossing Guard at the school? We can show appreciation to custodians, secretaries, educational assistants, and DECEs. 

Happy Reading and Happy Celebrating!

Brenda

As I continue my Structured Literacy journey, today’s post focuses on Oral Reading Fluency. To see other shifts I’ve reflected on, check out the series below:

• Shift # 1: Explicit Instruction
• Shift # 2: Morphology Instruction
• Shift # 3: Progress Monitoring
• Shift # 4: The Power of Self-Talk

Oral reading fluency (ORF) refers to how smoothly, accurately, and expressively students read connected text. More often we are only focused on speed. But truly, it’s about reading in a way that supports meaning. When students read with appropriate pace, accuracy, and expression, their comprehension improves.

Fluency sits at the intersection of decoding and understanding. When decoding is slow or laboured, students have fewer mental resources left for making meaning. Likewise, when students read quickly but inaccurately, they miss key ideas.

Some routines that supports oral reading fluency includes (but not limited to):

• Decoding practice with connected text
• Repeated readings
• Modelling fluent reading through read-alouds
• Partner reading or echo reading
• Texts that match a student’s current decoding skills
• Reader’s Theatre
• Small, frequent fluency checks (progress monitoring)
  

Benefits I’ve Noticed in My Classroom

Since intentionally supporting oral reading fluency, I’ve noticed:

• Improved comprehension—students understand more 
• More confidence when reading aloud
• Better transfer of decoding skills from isolated practice to real text
• Increased reading stamina
• More expressive, meaningful reading during shared reading and guided practice

A Few Notes

Fluency instruction is an equity practice. By monitoring fluency regularly, we can gain insight into whether a student needs decoding support, vocabulary instruction, or additional practice with connected text. This ensures we provide targeted, timely support so all students—regardless of background knowledge or language experience—can access grade-level text meaningfully.

How do you support oral reading fluency? Do you use any of the practices higlighted above?

My little group of retired teacher friends and I get together a few times a year.  We love to play a card game called Dutch Blitz.  You might have heard of it.  It’s a super fast paced, card counting game that uses a unique deck of cards.  It’s a lot of movement and reflexes. When we’re playing we are super competitive and the laughs abound!

There are, however, many nights when I feel at a disadvantage in this game. It takes me awhile to get into the swing of things.  I come straight from work most nights and have to get up early the next day to head back to work.  My kids are still young-ish and definitely still reliant on me for some things.  My contributions to the appetizer potluck are usually store bought; I’m sometimes the last to arrive or sliding in late and barely shifted out of work mode. I always need a reminder of the rules of the game I’ve been playing for over a decade. By the time I get to our card nights I’m tired!

Life is busy and sometimes there are things that are just out of our control.  We don’t always make the rules of life, but we can accommodate and help each other to feel welcome.  At different phases of my career, I’ve felt the same way in the classroom.  Family obligations, time off for a variety of reasons, and feeling like I’m always playing catch up can be so stressful.  What got me through those times?  Staff and colleagues who were willing to co-plan with me, offer a listening ear, remind me that we’re supporting each other without judgement. A little empathy for others can go a long way. 

This year, take a moment to notice those children who are arriving at school a little late, running for the bus, forgetting their indoor shoes, lunches, and homework. Let’s extend that empathy toward them as well. Understanding that they might be figuring out their own breakfasts or lunches and packing school bags after a night with little sleep or babysitting siblings. Maybe they’ve forgotten their pencil crayons and rulers at home – it’s happened to me more than once!  Offer some empathy over penalty; let them borrow materials, ask them how their day is, tell them you’re glad they made it. We don’t control the rules of the game, but we can all be a listening ear and remind them that we support and care for them at school. 

I can’t remember the last time I won a game of Dutch Blitz – hey, some days I can barely remember the rules. In over ten years I think I’ve won a handful of times and that’s probably all the times we’ve played in partners.  But I do remember the laughs and the camaraderie. The feeling of belonging and that my friends extend understanding to me when I need it most.  And that’s the unspoken rule that keeps me in the game.

Over the winter holiday break I had the opportunity to visit the NASA Space Center in Houston and naturally, I looked up the user reviews to see if it was really worth the trip. One review gave the centre a single star, largely arguing that most of the information could be found on the internet or in a Youtube video.

The review made me pause and wonder: why go and learn anything anywhere then, when you could just “Google it” or turn to artificial intelligence? What is the point of having an “in person” experience when you can learn from the privacy and comfort of your own home?

In the end, we did go to the Space Center and while there was certainly information that could easily be found online, there were experiences that were absolutely meant to be had in person. Walking beside impossibly huge rockets and engines made me realize the level of innovation and ambition it took to engage in space travel; touching one of the eight pieces of moon rock on display in the world was awe-inducing. In one exhibit, a volunteer was explaining how rockets work. A large crowd had formed around the speaker, who grew increasingly animated as he talked, using a model and a globe to support his explanation. Kids and adults listened with rapt attention, and though I had read much of what he explained in the exhibit, I think I learned so much more from listening to the speaker’s storytelling.

It occurred to me in that moment how special it was to learn in a human-centred way. School provides children (really people of all ages) with those critical moments of interaction and lived experience where curriculum content is not just received, but put into context through discussions, realia, and materials across the senses. And while it would be impossible to make every day of teaching a trip to the museum, it doesn’t take a whole lot of creativity and planning to make learning more real and visceral.

It’s hard to ignore the proliferation of artificial intelligence and digital technology in today’s world, and school is no exception. As technology compels us to re-think the way we teach and prepare students for an unpredictable world and economy, it is more important to remember that teaching is a human endeavour. Educators and schools bring so much more to learning than the delivery of curriculum content: they bring information and knowledge to life, and create spaces where authentic relationships and trust are built. one. When teachers build connections with students, they create conditions for risk-taking, curiosity, and persistence. Students are more willing to ask questions, attempt challenging tasks, and recover from mistakes when they trust that their teacher is invested in their success.

There has never been a more important time to recognize the human element of education – it is what we bring to the table as teachers in schools.

I really struggle to imagine a world in which knowledge and information is reduced to a Chat GPT prompt, or where teaching is rooted in artificial intelligence. It is painful, for me, to watch entire AI-driven dialogues occur on professional learning discussion boards, and to hear from other educators the extent to which students use AI to write their work. Losing sight of the power and impact of individual voices, complete with spelling errors, mistakes, and misconceptions, is something I hope we never devalue.

It was lunch time, and I was sitting in the little room outside the office prepping materials for an assessment. I was just about to get up and grab some pencils when a teacher passed by and looked in.  “Oh it’s nice to see you!” came her bright greeting, and it was undeniably nice to see her too. I’ve had the opportunity to work with this educator a couple of times now; my system role sees me moving about quite a bit, and at each new school it’s always a bonus to run into people I have collaborated with in the past.  She’s a dedicated teacher, always on the go and brimming with positive energy, someone you always feel better for having spoken with.

Today she seemed a little different, though. A little quieter.

Our conversation lasted about twenty minutes, the third period bell sternly enforcing its end. But while we were chatting, she spoke about how much her students would be able to do if they had adequate supports, and I could hear the frustration in her voice. She had multiple needs in her class, and as the only educator in a room of 30 students, along with vanishing funding for special education and ESL, her worry for her students was palpable.

Such situations are far from isolated. Every day teachers show up and give their best for students, and despite all the challenges still manage to accomplish incredible things. But let’s face it: no matter how devoted the educator, no matter how skilled their pedagogy, the underfunding of our school system can sometimes create an unshakeable type of stress, when we routinely see students who do not have the specialized supports and manageable class sizes they need to truly thrive. Couple that with the worries and struggles we may have in our personal lives, set it all against the backdrop of our roiling world, and you have the perfect recipe for stuckness.

Ugh, stuckness. I loathe it. Stuckness is the worst.  That trapped feeling, like boots you can’t pull out of squelchy mud.  Where solutions to our problems seem so out of reach, so distant, that we feel that we aren’t really making any progress at all.

But – as I discovered not too long ago – there is sometimes a way to make the worry a little more manageable.

It was a couple of years ago now, and I was telling a friend about a problem. It had been bothering me for some time and I felt, well, stuck.  That there was no solution to my dilemma and never would be.  That I was doing absolutely nothing to get to where I needed to go.

But what my friend said next helped, at least a little bit. She told me to imagine I was driving a car, and while not at my destination quite yet, it was important to recognize that I was headed in the right direction. Contrary to what I felt, I wasn’t doing ‘nothing’: I had a list of steps I’d already taken, and I had a plan for steps I’d continue to take. I was aiming for my goal, doing what I could do. And sure, unruly passengers might occasionally climb aboard with me, squawking and screeching and doing their best to remind me I wasn’t there yet (thank you very much, unhelpful thoughts).  But, my friend said, you don’t have to listen. They can spew doom all they like, because you know where you’re going and you have the skills to get there. So instead of absorbing the panic and helplessness, I could continue on, perhaps with a little more self-compassion, knowing that although I hadn’t arrived at the solution yet, I was headed the right way.

So as we continue the cold trudge through February, whenever I feel myself trapped in stuckness I’m going to think of that gradual, winding road trip. It’s the right image for me; it may or may not be the right image for you. But if there is a challenge you are facing in your day-to-day teaching, it is my hope that you can see all the things you are doing, all the little steps moving you forward, knowing you are making a difference in children’s lives every day. And that as we continue to care for students, as we continue to collaborate and help one another, and as we continue to advocate for the supports our students need, we are headed in the right direction together.

The night sky is mesmerizing. We gaze up into the vast darkness seeing the moon and stars but we can also look for planet parades, meteor showers, the Aurora Borealis and even see the space station circling around the earth. Canadians have had a significant role in space exploration since the 1950’s. This influence continues with astronaut Jeremy Hansen from the London/Ingersoll area. Jeremy’s path to becoming an astronaut is outlined in an article by CTV news which includes photos of him in childhood showing his interest in space. His dreams of becoming a pilot and exploring space started early, when he was in elementary school.  His childhood treehouse included buttons and knobs imitating a rocket ship and this idea was included in an illustrated e-book called, Explorers Club: To the Moon!  from the Canadian Space Agency. The book also features Canadian female astronaut, Jenni Gibbons, who is a  backup astronaut and capcom on the Artemis II mission. 

The Canadian Space Agency website has a section devoted to education with cross-curricular ideas for elementary classrooms where students are learning about space and the contributions of Canadians to space exploration. There are experiments to encourage students to think about how to survive in space. We can also learn about astronauts at NASA who are working on the Artemis mission, including Jeremy Hansen and Jenni Gibbons. 

Another source of inspiration is former Canadian astronaut, Chris Hadfield who created fascinating videos while on board the International Space Station.  Students sent in questions and he demonstrated how to brush your teeth in space or wringing out a cloth in space. 

The excitement and curiosity about exploring space and living in a no-gravity environment  makes learning very engaging. The Artemis II mission involves taking their spacecraft, Integrity, around the moon and back to earth as part of their ten day mission. The astronauts are trained to test this new type of space vehicle as part of the overall Artemis plan which includes landing on the moon in the next phase. 

The mission is worthy of research and debate with our older students. There are important questions to address:

-How is  the Artemis Mission valuable to Canadians?

-What views do Indigenous Peoples have on space exploration?

-How does the Artemis program and the Canadarm 3 inspire STEM education?

-What is the Lunar Gateway project and how are Canadians involved?

-How will the Artemis program influence our society?

For younger students, I highly recommend reading The Darkest Dark by Chris Hadfield. He recalls his experience of watching the lunar landing as a child in 1969 and how it inspired his career as an astronaut. Jump ahead to today and we can wonder how our students will be influenced by the Artemis program, which includes doing research on the moon’s surface and having the Gateway station orbiting the moon to support this research. 

Since the science curriculum supports learning about the impact of Canadian scientists on the world, I plan to include information about the Artemis mission in my teaching. There have been many brilliant Canadians leading the way in space research and we have the opportunity to nurture that love of learning in our students. I remember seeing the first female Canadian astronaut, Roberta Bondar, after her space mission. As a woman, I was energized by her accomplishments, commitment, intelligence, and humour. 

I can’t help but ponder the Artemis mission and its implications for the future. 

Brenda

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ask a Peer: Ask a neighbour for clarification.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’ve learned so much this year while working with colleagues in the early learning department. They always leave me with some new learning to ponder in relation to my practice. Recently, we’ve had a conversation about Dr Jean Clinton and her work around something called the C:D:C ratio. For many Designated Early Childhood Educators this is the basis of their work; however, for me, this was a different framing of the student and educator relationship. 

The C:D:C ratio is short form for Correct:Direct:Connect.  Dr. Clinton’s work emphasizes the importance of relationship building between educators and students.  Connection, she says, is key.  The relationships educators build with students can positively transform learning and how students see themselves in the classroom environment. Dr. Clinton encourages educators to think about the ratio of time we spend correcting students, directing students, and connecting with students.  

Correcting might sound like verbal cues “Stop speaking out” or “You’ve made a mistake here”.   It might even appear in non-verbal ways, such as eye contact or moving closer to stop certain behaviour. I stopped to reflect on what this looked like in my teaching; how many times do I correct students?  Are there any students that I correct more often than others?  What reasons do I ‘correct’ (e.g., academic errors, classroom rules, or something else).

Directing students involves directing accepted actions or behaviour.  Perhaps this manifests instructionally, for example, telling students “It’s time to do some math now”. It might also indicate acceptable behaviour, such as “Thank you for raising your hand before speaking out.”  I wondered how many times I directed students in the classroom.  How do my own expectations and biases about a ‘good’ classroom affect our relationship in ways I haven’t noticed before? 

Connecting with students is really where the educator intentionally builds meaningful exchanges with students.  How does this happen authentically in the classroom space?  Dr Clinton offers some guidance by modifying suggestions from the Center on the Social and Emotional Foundations for Early Learning.  

A few of those suggestions are as follows: 

• Be at the child’s level for face-to-face interactions 
• Use a pleasant, calm voice and simple language while making eye contact  
• Help children understand your expectations by providing simple but clear explanations (not by directing) 
• Take the time to engage children in the process of resolving problems and conflicts, rather than reiterating classroom rules
• Be genuine in acknowledging children for their accomplishments and effort by clearly saying what it is they have done well 

It feels to me like the connecting part is about building relationships with students.  It’s partly how we interact with them (eye level, eye contact, face to face) and it’s partly how educators are intentional about engaging with students (resolving problems, genuinely acknowledging efforts, trying to understand behaviour).  Directing and correcting seem to be more about student compliance.  We know that students thrive when they feel seen and heard and valued – all of which is expressed through connection.  Dr. Clinton’s research tells educators that if we spend more time on connecting with children, there is less need for correction and directing. 

Dr. Clinton’s work is based in early learning, but her appeal for educators to reflect on their C:D:C ratio speaks to educators at all levels in schools. Of course there are times throughout the day when correcting and directing are necessary; however, it’s valuable to reflect on which interaction is most prominent and why that is. 

There’s so much to learn about in Early Childhood Education.Even if you are not a kindergarten teacher I urge you to read and listen to some of these brilliant researchers.  I promise you’ll learn a lot. 

Learn more about Dr. Jean Clinton’s work by exploring: 

https://etfopley.ca/jean-clinton-well-bring-relationships/

https://drjeanclinton.com/

The Power of Positive Adult-Child Relationships: Connection is the Key

In an age of Artificial Intelligence (AI) platforms and large language models (LLMs) that generate clear and lengthy texts at the click of a button, it’s not difficult to see how the act of writing may be changed forever. For students, it is all too easy to turn to tools like Copilot or Chat GPT to create a research report, to analyze a poem, or to write a current events article assignment. Adults similarly turn to these tools to make their workflows easier, whether it is writing emails, presentations, or a report.

You may even be wondering if what you are reading right now is an authentic piece of writing, or generated by a prompt. To clarify, I wrote this article but also prompted an LLM to write an article about the topic – as I often do to support and accelerate the work I do as an educator and as a content creator.

To be transparent, the LLM gave me a ton of great ideas, summarized succinctly in seconds. It reminded me that AI has provided educators with “a huge opportunity: we can teach better writing and better research habits by showing students how to use AI as a thinking partner rather than a shortcut.” In fact, the prompt gave me so many good ideas it made me realize how little I really know about leveraging AI effectively in a literacy classroom. It made me realize that while I can’t truly write a fulsome article on using AI in the writing classroom, I can reflect on what human-generated texts really mean to me.

I have always considered myself to be a writer, and after reading so many AI generated texts I’ve really started to deeply appreciate the insights, mistakes, and voice that only us perfectly flawed humans can make when we write. And while I truly believe educators need to lean into AI (as my AI generated text encouraged me, “teach it” don’t “ban it”), I hope there is also a mindset shift toward valuing the very human action of writing as a function, an art, and process of learning and creativity that is unique and special.

Writing is hard work. It only gets easier when we write frequently, and become skilled at spontaneously applying verb tenses, drawing from text forms, and leveraging punctuation and sentence structure to add variety to a draft. It’s easy to see why many kids and adults dislike writing longer texts or being tasked to write a paragraph, and find AI tools so alluring.

As educators and teachers of language and literacy, I think we can play a unique role in helping students to become more aware of what makes human-generated texts so important as a source of enjoyment, a way to express creativity, and a valuable skill that helps us to become more effective communicators and readers. Through human-driven writing, we learn new information and how to use new words.

How can we teach students to use AI effectively in their writing? Here are a few tips that were generated by my Chat GPT prompt:

Create an “AI Use Policy” with students in plain language. Include:

• What AI is allowed for: brainstorming topic ideas, building question banks, outlining, planning research steps, language clarification, vocabulary support, examples of structures (e.g., thesis, counterclaim), and feedback on clarity.
• What is not allowed: submitting AI-generated drafts as one’s own, fabricating sources or quotes, bypassing assigned readings, using AI to misrepresent understanding.
• Non-negotiables: protect privacy (no personal data), verify facts, and always disclose when AI materially assisted the work (“AI Acknowledgment” note at the end).
• Equity check: ensure every student has access to board-approved tools for teacher and student use (in boards that have policies around the student use of AI) or school devices during structured time so policy doesn’t advantage only those with home access.
• Post norms as an anchor chart; revisit them before major tasks.

To be honest, these tips are actually much better than anything I probably could have created about using AI!

While we may be saying goodbye to “old” ways of communicating, I think its exciting to contemplate what the future of writing will look like with so many new tools at our students’ fingertips. It’s also important to remember that guidance does exist for us as we navigate this new and evolving realm: be sure to check the members section of the ETFO website for AI advice, in addition to your board’s own AI policies. And as educators, we should always try to remember that we have the privilege and responsibility of teaching students the value of human-centred writing.