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I love the way the light looks different in every season. The frozen skies of winter, sunsets muted with pearl and pink. Soft spring skies, new green and gentle rain.  And of course the fiery blue of summer.  But by the end of summer, the light always starts to look a little bit different. A little less fierce, as if making way for the grand finale.

The light in September, in my opinion, can often combine the best of the other seasons … The brilliant and still-warm blue of summer remains, the leaves that began in spring still edging its horizons, only now with brilliant bursts of colour. And the sunsets of winter can be seen at the end of ever-shortening days, whispers of colder days to come.

September reminds me of beautiful things, and makes me grateful for each one. And I’m particularly grateful for all the gifts, experiences, and hopes of students, for their bright anticipation of the coming year.

I wish every one of them community and belonging, and learning relevant to their lives. And I know educators will support them throughout.

What an amazing role we have, what a chance to make a difference. May each one of you have a wonderful start to the school year, and enjoy every moment of this glorious September light.

It can seem overwhelming to have emergent speakers of English in your mainstream classroom, especially when you are balancing the needs of the rest of your class. As we have explored in the previous two parts of this blog series, it is critical to leverage the learning environment and student peers as part of your program. The third element involves critically examining and tweaking your direct instruction while always keeping language development in mind.

So what does the instruction you provide as a teacher look like when you have newcomer ELLs in your class who are just starting to learn the language of instruction? While there are many ways to approach this topic, I will focus on how to reframe content based instruction for all learners.

Critically Examine the Content you Plan to Teach

Re-examining the content you are going to teach, especially if you are a teacher of intermediate ELLs, is important. A few key questions to consider are:

• What are the language demands of the content?
• Will an early STEP ELL be able to understand the texts and media resources of the lesson?
• What can be done to make the content more comprehensible?
• What can I do in my teaching to make the content comprehensible?

When the learning is content based (Ex. Science or social studies), and reading is involved, encourage early STEP ELLs to use tools like multilingual dictionaries or translation tools. When students have literacy in their home language, it is an important and critical skill they can leverage to access the curriculum and continue building their literacy skills.

Offer simplified versions of the content when possible, or bring in media resources like videos and audio. Slow the pace of the video or audio, and use subtitles and text forms so that students can follow along as best they can develop phonological awareness in English.

Set Appropriate Learning Expectations to Assess

Setting learning expectations for ELLs that are aligned with STEP will help you be more intentional with your instruction and also provide you with a starting point for assessment. When you have a sense of which learning goals will support and challenge your ELLs, you can design tasks, report and assess with purpose.

To do this, consider where the student is on the STEP continua in the areas of reading, oral communication, and writing. Your school should have this information documented, or you can start by printing out the continua (you can find the different continua with a quick search or check out www.ergo-on.ca).

Then, consider the curriculum expectations you are teaching and plan to assess and develop an appropriate learning goal for the student. Here is an example:

Grade 7: Syntax and Sentence Structure

B3.1 use their knowledge of sentence types and forms to construct sentences that communicate ideas effectively, including using and creating complex sentences that combine phrases and clauses to express relationships among ideas.

Modified for a STEP 1 (Writing) student:

“Student will communicate their ideas using translanguaging tools and scaffolds like models and sentence frames to create simple sentences in English.”

Once you adapt learning expectations a few times, it becomes much easier to understand what you can do to scaffold instruction for ELLs.

Provide Ample Opportunities for ELLs to use Academic Language

ELLs will often acquire social or practical language first through play, conversations, and regular interactions with people in and outside of school. Academic language, or the use of words and vocabulary that are not often heard outside of a school context, can be a challenge for ELLs to acquire because these words are not heard as frequently.

Providing ample opportunities for ELLs (and all the students in your classroom) to speak and write less frequently used words is imperative for their academic success. You can do this by posting word walls or charts, providing sentence frames where they can utilize transition words, or structured group projects and presentations that will get students using academic language with purpose.

Here are some examples of activities that will enable students to use academic language in meaningful ways:

• Create a podcast with an interviewer and “expert”
• Script and perform a news report
• Write a blog post or news article
• Develop a game with science/social studies vocabulary for that unit

Here are a couple of resources that you can use to get ideas for sentence frames and questioning.

Blooms Taxonomy for ELLs:

Sentence Frames (created by S. Kim)

Monitor Progress in Language Acquisition

With the learning environment, peers, and direct instruction set up to support English language acquisition, you can monitor for growth and change using the STEP continua.

Keep in mind that language acquisition will vary depending on the student – each student is on their own unique and individual journey.

How will you know if an ELL is progressing? Remember that conversations, observations, and products – also known as triangulated evidence – will give you a sense of where they are. Notice when they respond differently in conversations, take risks in writing and speaking in class, and start socializing more with others.

Summing it Up

We are of course just scratching the surface when it comes to providing instructional support for ELLs in this short blog post. You will find no shortage of ideas on the topic from a number of prolific educators in the field, such as Tan Huynh, Diane Staehr-Fenner, and Oscar Corrigan, and Andrea Honigsfeld just to name a few.

What will you focus on to adapt instruction for the ELLs you are teaching?

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.”

This summer we are travelling up the St Lawrence. A road trip. We’ve been meaning to for a while and this was the year we finally cemented plans and took the leap. Starting out in Ontario and making our way east, we are travelling first to Montreal, then Quebec City, Saguenay, Tadoussac and beyond … 

We have not yet made it out of Quebec yet as I write this. And my time in this beautiful province has not only afforded me rich opportunities to learn about the history and culture and surroundings in each region I visit, but also the language. 

Although I am not bilingual, as an ESL teacher I am very used to using other languages every day … to speak with students, to scaffold learning tasks, to support students as they use and expand their first languages simultaneously with English acquisition and curriculum content. And now I find myself using many of these same strategies during my summer trip.  I am constantly learning new phrases, checking the meaning of unfamiliar words on google translate, using context and gestures to aid communication … and others are doing the same for me. As the days go by, street signs, menus, pit stops, and shopping trips all become unconventional language teachers, bringing about new interactions, inviting in new words.

But one thing, above all others, has provided the most opportunities to communicate and connect with others in French. 

We got a new puppy this year and, perhaps a bit too ambitiously, we decided to bring him along. He is 6 months old now, with floppy ears and the softest black and caramel-coloured fur. He has bright white paws that make him look as though he is wearing mittens. His eyes are a solid ice blue — except for the right one, which has a little brown in it too. He is full of puppy-bright energy, sometimes pulling too hard on the leash, but always on the lookout for cuddles and treats.

He goes everywhere we go on this trip … down centuries-old cobblestone streets; onto sun-warmed patios for slow afternoon meals; down forest trails lined with pine-dotted cliffs on one side, and deep fjord blue on the other. And no matter where we bring him, it is our little puppy that has started the most conversations. I have learned how to answer delighted inquiries in French about his age, what type of dog he is, if he is friendly, and if it is alright to pet him. I somehow managed to have a short conversation about Samoyeds with a woman whose puppy took a liking to ours, both of us moving back and forth between English and French (with a lot of gestures) to communicate. I listened quietly to a lovely couple who approached and told us, using simple French and a little English, that they had just lost their dog, and saw something of him in ours. 

I love the connections that come through embracing other languages, and in using all the tools we have as human beings to communicate. And I love how my world gets a little bigger with every gesture, every sought-after word, every conversation … every time I see someone’s knowledge, personality, and feelings flow with their language — even if I do not understand everything they are saying. Whether it is during the school year when working with students and families, or on long summer trips like this, using different languages and ways to communicate is always a gift. 

As September approaches, these August days remind me at every turn of the importance of using first languages in school …  in learning, in lessons, in the way we move through the day. This fall, may you and your students discover your own new and beautiful words. 

At the end of May, I had the opportunity to attend a “Language Friendly School” conference in Hamilton. It was hosted at Glendale Secondary School, as it is the latest school in Canada to achieve this designation. There are member schools around the globe, however, including The Netherlands, Suriname, China, Germany, the UK, and others. I was particularly excited to attend this conference at Glendale, as it is the eventual destination of many students I support across the system.

I have walked these halls many times, touring with excited grade 8s and their families, and have seen the many ways both teachers and students embrace, use, and celebrate multiple languages in learning. It is not dissimilar to many elementary schools I visit, which are quite “language friendly” themselves!

The official designation of “Language Friendly School”, however, is a distinguished one. According to its website, “the Language Friendly School is both a label and a global network of schools that embrace and value all the languages spoken by their students … they actively foster an environment where these languages thrive within the school community.”

Two guest speakers from this organization presented at our conference, and discussed all the reasons why including multiple languages in schools is critical for student learning and well-being. They were the ones we are all familiar with: that students learn faster and better in their first language; that language is an inseparable part of identity, and to exclude it from the classroom is to in many ways exclude students themselves; that multilingualism benefits everyone, not just students learning English; and that first language maintenance is essential not only for strong English acquisition, but also for the vital connection to family and culture, to say nothing of future education and employment opportunities.

The presentation was full of celebratory speeches, examples of students’ multilingual learning and what a Language Friendly school looks like, as well as a moving multilingual performance by the Glendale school choir. Yet there were somber moments as well. Perhaps one of the most impactful occurred during the slide presentation, when a quote attributed to a former principal at Silver Creek Public School in Mississauga appeared on the screen:

“I went into school with two languages. I left with one. This is the exact opposite of what education should do: it should add things, not take away things.”

And there it is. This statement, in its stark simplicity, is a devastating reminder of what can happen out of sight, out of anyone’s notice, when we use only English in our schools.

Perhaps this is why the Language Friendly Schools website has a similarly brief yet poignant objective:

Language as a resource.

Language as a right.

A right, indeed. Language is who we are. To exclude it, consciously or unconsciously, from the school environment is antithetical to our most sacred duties as teachers.

(On happier note, the above school, Silver Creek Elementary in Mississauga, is also designated a Language Friendly School.)

I look forward to detailing in subsequent blogs all the ways in which the elementary schools I support are language friendly. For now I will leave you with a quote that was lovingly scrawled in colourful chalk in one of the classrooms at Glendale:

Language is the blood of the soul, into which thoughts run and out of which they grow.

– Oliver Wendell Holmes

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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.