I couldn’t believe it when I got the call. Although, hopeful and eager, I knew the odds of getting my dream job right out of Teachers’ College was not likely. So, when that call came in for a homeroom class of Grade 1 students in a school close to home, I was ecstatic. That first year was full of learning, not only for my students, but for myself as well. As I settled in, my classroom became my second home. As we know, educators often spend more waking hours at school than at home. And, I loved my job, my students, co-workers and community; I landed my dream job and I wasn’t going ANYWHERE. 

Or was I…

I still remember going home so upset that dreadful day in early spring when I received a letter from my school board indicating that I was redundant.  What does this mean? Redundant? How did this happen? I thought. I was confused with the process and what it all meant. The staffing process can be overwhelming, confusing and a little bit scary for new and even experienced teachers. Gratefully, my Local was there to support me through the process. If you’re working through the staffing process of your board right now and unsure of anything, remember to reach out to your Local and ask questions. 

Since that first year, I experienced many other unplanned changes to my job assignment depending on the needs of the school. One year, as a result of being surplus, I took a junior homeroom teacher position with the hopes of getting back into the primary division, preferring Grade 1. Although initially unwelcomed, that change, among others, opened my eyes to the variety of teaching roles within my board. 

Intermediate Student Success Teacher, Music, Physical Education, and Dance teacher, and recently providing preparation coverage/planning time to our Special Education, Self-Contained Classrooms are not roles I ever thought I’d do. Truthfully if some of those initially unwelcomed changes early in my career didn’t happen, who knows if I would have taken those opportunities as they came up. When I started my career I had little interest in teaching anything other than primary homeroom. I certainly didn’t want to work outside a traditional classroom setting. 

Experience in different teaching roles throughout my career has allowed me to truly grow and learn as an educator. While the changes, especially early in my career, were hard to accept, I am glad I did and now embrace these changes and challenge myself in learning new roles. In fact, in September I will take on yet a different role within my school and look forward to learning and growing with my students. 

If you are new to teaching or have been doing the same thing for years, I encourage you to explore other teaching roles and see what is out there  – You might surprise yourself!

Created in 1939, the NFB is a federal agency under the Department of Canadian Heritage. Its mandate is to create, produce, and distribute distinctive and original audiovisual works that reflect the diverse realities and perspectives of Canadians, and to share these works with the people of Canada and the rest of the world.  Source

Using audiovisual media with our students helps create a dynamic learning environment. As Canadian educators we can inspire our students by promoting Canadian filmmakers. Canada’s National Film Board provides many examples of film and video across all subject areas and age groups. Here are some examples of NFB content that are particularly suited to elementary educators. Please explore the NFB Education page and the NFB Blog for many more films to use in your classes. If you would like to work with other Canadian educators who promote the use of NFB content, then consider applying to be part of the NFB Educator Network.

Private Eyes Ages 6-9

Why is it important to respect individuality and encourage independence?

Topics: Independence, Physical Disabilities, Visual Impairment, Blind, Senses, Braille, Companion Pets, Communication, Confidence, Self-Worth, Challenges, Resourceful

Film Length: 14 minutes 26 seconds

Overdose Ages 6+

How does stress impact your life?

Topics: burnout, stress management

Film Length: 5 minutes 30 seconds

Elbow Room  Ages 7+   

How can you express your emotions to others?

Topics:  conflict resolution, emotion, dialogue, compromise

Film Length: 8 minutes 30 seconds

Big Mouth Ages 8-10

Is telling the truth always the right thing to do?

Topics: Truth, Communication, Social Relationships, Empathy, Unique Character Traits, Differences, Poetry

Film Length: 8 minutes 20 seconds

Star Wars Kid: The Rise of the Digital Shadows   Ages 12+

How has the rise of social media and digital technology used entertainment and sensationalism to overshadow responsibility, human dignity and human rights?

Topics: Consent, Social Media, Technology and Innovation, Cyber-bullying, Identity, Self-Esteem, Media Ethics, Privacy, Online Relationships, Digital Environment

In Full Voice  Ages 11+ (In French with English subtitles)

How can we deconstruct and disrupt anti-Muslim racism by understanding the specific and diverse experiences of Muslim women?

Topics: Muslim women, Islam, Islamophobia, diversity, identity, religion, gender, spirituality, stereotypes, culture, intersectionality

Film Length: 52 minutes

Warnings: It is important to take a trauma-informed approach to this learning. It is not uncommon for Muslim students to experience Islamophobia in various aspects of their lives. Non-Muslim students may not be aware of the challenges Muslim students face. It will be helpful to inform and prepare Muslim students, with care, that this film may bring up some difficult emotions. It will also be helpful to remind all students of class guidelines and agreements about the discussion of difficult topics.

Hi-Ho Mistahey  Ages 12+ 

Why isn’t the right to a quality education universal in Canada?

Topics: Treaties with First Nations, Indigenous Rights, Oral Promises, Constitutional Rights, Indian Act, Underfunding, Departments of Aboriginal Affairs

Film Length: 1 hour 40 minutes

Professional reading for educators tends to be rather prosaic, focusing on how to do things, such as taking a new approach to teaching or reinforcing specific strategies. While these books are certainly important to read, it can be highly stimulating to look outside the realm of education for new perspectives and ideas. For this reason, autobiography is one my favourite genres of writing. Reading the everyday, exceptional and relatable lived experiences of others is fascinating, inspiring, and empowering at the same time. As the publishing industry has diversified, the range of voices we can choose from as readers is broader than ever. In my own reading and exploration, I have found that many autobiographies I have helped me to enhance my work in becoming a more culturally responsive educator.

One particular autobiography that stood out for me this year is Son of Elsewhere: A Memoir in Pieces, by Elamin Abdelmahmoud. I initially picked up this book because I had been following Abdelmahmoud for his journalistic writing, but quickly learned that it was an excellent text for enriching for my teaching practice as well. Throughout this book, Abdelmahmoud shares his lived experience of Canadian school and society as a Black newcomer student learning English and a plethora of different cultural norms.

Abdelmahmoud’s book describes his journey from Sudan to Canada as a child, interweaving the turbulent colonial history of Sudan and “Operation Infinite Reach” with the numerous culture shocks that came with moving to the largely white community of Kingston, Ontario. Both informative and reflective, Abdelmahmoud’s writing tenderly intersects geopolitical, migration, and coming-of-age narratives. The concept of “elsewhere” forms the foundation of Abdelmahmoud’s storytelling. He writes: “elsewhere is an orientation, an emotional frequency, a chaotic compass that waits until you take a step in one direction, then immediately points in the direction behind you.”

Abdelmahmoud’s developing sense of identity is a central theme of the book. He discovers that he has “become” Black when he arrives in Canada, and grapples with the expectations and stereotypes that are ascribed to his skin colour in Canada. He describes the Islamophobia that surrounded his upbringing in Kingston, and the suspicion his community faces after the horrific 9/11 attacks. He also delves into what secondary school life was like as an English language learner, sometimes humorously exploring what that meant for his dating and social life.

Music and pop culture fans of the early aughts will also appreciate Abdelmahmoud’s reflections on country music and his complex connections with Linkin Park, WWE wrestling the OC. Personally, I found his thoughts on adolescence incredibly relatable and heartwarming. The tensions he describes between his parents’ Sudanese cultural values and Canadian society will likely be incredibly relatable for anyone who has grown up in a cross-cultural home.

Son of Elsewhere: A Memoir in Pieces is a worthwhile read for educators reading for work, recreation, or both! It is also available on audiobook, and is read by the author himself, which I highly reccommend.

I have always loved drama. And not just the flashy productions that come to mind when we think of school theatre — although those were fun too. No, I liked the smaller stuff.  

When I was a teenager, our drama classroom was tucked away in the basement of the school. In my opinion, though, it was the brightest spot in the building. If memory serves, we usually had about 15 or so students in our class. I think one year it got down to twelve — which as I write this seems an impossibly, wonderfully low number.  The room was carpeted, grey and worn from years of stocking feet running over it in fast-paced chase games, scene studies, and interpretive movement. The walls were painted black, and they faded to an inky void when the fluorescent school lights were switched off and theatre lights shone, illuminating our tiny performance space in little gold pools. Each day, we entered this open space, free of desks and chalkboards and every other thing usually found in classrooms. It was gloriously empty, waiting to be filled with creation.

We were a mixed bag of students, different backgrounds and friend groups. And yet through drama, a new community seemed to spring to life effortlessly.  Even teenage cool could not repress delighted squeals during fox-and-rabbit tag, could not stifle laughter at mishaps and happy accidents as we desperately tried to guide each other out of tangle games, could not shatter the silent connection that can happen during performance, when a classmate conveys something new and beautiful in a bit of script or line of music, bringing it to life with body and voice. That was the good stuff. Essays and exams did not convey our insights and perspectives — movement, expression, and even simple tone of voice did.  And when so much else in our academic lives seemed grounded in sitting still and using comparatively few ways to communicate learning, the multimodal physicality of the drama room offered a freeing alternative.

But what I loved most about drama class was the way in which it allowed us to see one another, in ways I almost never did in other classes. There was something so immediate and personal about drama. Our ideas were alive in the performance space, communicated to one another in fundamentally human ways. It didn’t feel so much like sharing answers as sharing a part of ourselves.

I have often thought back to those classes in my own career as a teacher, and tried to create similar learning experiences for my students. Before my current role, I often used drama to teach elements of the Language curriculum — and one unit was particularly memorable. I used a simple picture book which contained, as so many of them do, rich themes and complex issues to engage readers of all ages. Specifically, this text featured themes of difference and environmental degradation. But when I considered asking the class to show what they had learned in our unit, I knew some of my students would not be able to fully express their thoughts if my tasks were pencil and paper-based: multilingual language learners in the early stages of English acquisition, students with learning disabilities, dyslexia, dysgraphia … there were a number of intelligent and insightful students whose contributions would be cut short or stopped altogether by verbal-linguistic barriers.

So instead, I had students explore the text through tableaux. For those new to drama, tableaux are images students create with their bodies, a series of still-frames that represent a particular scene or moment in a narrative, as if someone snapped a photograph of the characters in action. Tableaux can offer an interactive, multimodal, and accessible way to explore texts: it can be used to re-tell the sequence of a story, to highlight critical plot points, to express character motivation and feelings, to predict storyline, to illustrate possible solutions to problems presented in the story, and to make connections to similar issues in our world and lives. It’s just that instead of doing all of these curriculum-based tasks on paper, students use physical and emotional expression to communicate their thinking. 

One tableau my students created was particularly beautiful. There were about 6 students in the group, all with unique learning needs. As I watched the group plan, one student placed herself in the middle of the scene, sadness in her face as she gazed at the ruined land surrounding her, but making hope visible in her outstretched arms, still attempting persuade people to help her. Some students in the tableau were turned away defiantly; some were looking back, considering; others walking to join her, uncertainty but also bravery in their strides. The group’s creation encapsulated the character conflict in devastating stillness. 

All groups presented at the same time, one after the other, creating live fade-ins around the classroom. And in the three seconds it took this group to freeze in tableau, I knew instantly that the students had understood subtext, made emotional connections to characters, and accurately conveyed motivation. You could see it all in a heart beat.

As always, drama techniques such as tableaux are just one possible tool to engage all students and enable diverse learners to fully participate. It is one of many tasks and activities that allow multiple entry points. In my experience, tableaux is an exercise pretty much everyone in the class can do — and the learning is no less rich for it. In fact, sometimes, it is even more so.

In my previous blog I spoke about the joy of not being able to “find” multilingual language learners (and other diverse students) as we look across classrooms, because the tasks and learning spaces are designed for everyone to have an entry point, for everyone to have a voice and meaningfully participate. This drama activity is always one in which I am willing to wager, if someone walked in during the lesson, they would find themselves stymied by that most wonderful challenge.

As we head into the last few months of the school year, I am reflecting on how messy education can be. From staff changes throughout the year, families moving in (or out); holidays or assemblies interrupting the flow of a unit, I’m often feeling as though things are messy, and a little chaotic. 

I’m reminded of the fairy lights: 

I had this really long string of fairy lights at my trailer that I took down and brought home to repurpose. As careful as I was removing them and transporting them, they inevitably, quickly became a big tangled mess. As I turned them on to ensure they still worked, I contemplated throwing the tangled bunch into a vase or clear glass bowl. 

But I could use a lesson in patience and untangling them certainly provided an opportunity for me to practice patience. So I set to work on them one Friday evening and over the course of five hours, these lights, once tangled, yet bright, were quite the opposite ~ untangled but dull. The pulling and hours of manipulating damaged the delicate wires and they no longer worked.  As I chuckled at the irony, I thought to myself, “I guess that’s the lesson here”. I saw the learning was maybe not in patience after all, but in the beauty of a tangled mess.

 Sometimes we are in a rush to get it all untangled and figured out or maybe we only see the chaos and messiness of the situations we are in – personally and professionally. I’m sharing this story because it serves as a reminder for me that sometimes I’m not where I want to be, maybe I feel a little tangled; and maybe you feel that way sometimes too. And it’s that’s ok. Learning to let some things untangle on their own or maybe just appreciate them as they are is ok too.  

As we head into the final two months of our school year, remember that everything won’t be untangled and neat in education or in life. I hope you see and appreciate the beauty in the tangles.