Category: General

I’ve been reading “Tacky the Penguin” at the beginning of the school year for decades. This story goes from uproarious laughter to fear and tension and ends with our unlikely hero, Tacky, saving the day. This picture book can be read over and over with the same results, children will ask for it again and again.  It’s perfect for early in the year when students are trying to fit in with a new crowd of classmates and need the reminder that it is not just ok to be yourself, we need you to be yourself, not a copy of someone else. The writing style of Helen Lester and the playful illustrations by Lynn Munsinger allow for plenty of dramatic gestures, voices and rhythms. Readers immediately identify with Tacky, who is constantly left out by his snooty companions. He is different, an odd bird. Don’t we all feel that way at times?

Dramatic Gestures

As the story opens, the companions (Goodly, Lovely, Neatly, Angel, and Perfect) greet each other quietly and politely. At this point I pause, put the book down and reach out to shake the hands of  a few of the students and calmly say things like, “Good Day”,  “Lovely to see you”, “How good of you to be here”. Then I slap my own leg to imitate Tacky’s greeting which is a loud “What’s Happening”.

We might also take time to imitate the penguins marching neatly in a row compared to Tacky’s random movements, followed by graceful dives and splashy cannonballs. These actions come into play later in the story as Tacky uses his actions to defeat the hunters.

Rhythm

When the hunters arrive they have stomping feet and on one of my readings I realized that if I kept stomping at the right tempo I could read the entire hunter section to the beat. Genius! Students join in and stomp along with me as we meet and defeat the terrifying hunters.

Voices

It is key to get Tacky’s singing in an off-key, dreadful voice.  I add in sound effects to imitate his accordion and then blare out “How many toes does a fish have?”. In contrast, the companions need to sing “Sunrise on the Iceberg” in a refined, melodic way. The Hunters have a growling, mean voice since they are talking about catching the penguins and want to “march ‘em with a switch”. Students join in with a “Grrrrrr”.

Each time the story is read, the students become more familiar with the ideas of inclusion and acceptance.  They see the importance of owning your individuality and using your strengths to help others. Plus Tacky the Penguin brings joy to the faces of children who have just come in from a recess where they felt alone.

Follow Up Activities

-a little research on penguins for science class;

-creating new lyrics for the songs in the book for your writing period;

-adding rhythm instruments for music time;

-act out the story for drama or create the illustrations as tableaux;

-add some math and learn about the fraction in Tacky’s marching sequence;

-vocabulary to discuss:  odd, companion, graceful, tacky, switch (as a noun), clasped:

-have a Tacky day and encourage students to wear something they love.

Tacky the Penguin was first published in 1988 and is still going strong with several follow up stories that feature this funny and lovable character. I hope you get a copy and have as much fun as I do!

Happy Reading!

Brenda

A couple of weeks into summer I woke up with the morning light. My dog was waiting expectantly by the door and so I threw on my sandals, put on his leash, and stepped into the steamy July morning. The sun was already strong, radiating over the grass as we walked across the lawn. 

We were out there only a minute or so when I felt a sharp pain on the inside of my ankle. At first I thought I must have brushed by a thistle or some other prickly plant, but when I looked down I saw a flurry of wings, familiar black and yellow stripes.

Yes, I had been stung. I must have gotten too close to flower or nest. And now the wasp was hovering over my bare skin, getting ready for the next strike, the burning from the first one already starting to spread outwards. With a panicked gasp, I reached down and tried to gently brush at the wasp with the back of my hand, my care and restraint born more of a desire not to get stung again than anything else. After a couple of hand waves, the wasp flew off.

Back inside, I hobbled over to the couch to google “wasp sting remedies”, and sat down with an unimpressed flop – right next to the book I had been reading.

The book is called Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants, written by botanist Robin Wall Kimmerer. Recommended to our ESL team last year, it is in the author’s words, “a braid of stories … woven from three strands: Indigenous ways of knowing, scientific knowledge, and the story of an Anishinabekwe scientist … old stories and new ones that can be medicine for our broken relationship with the Earth … in which people and the land are good medicine for each other,” (Wall Kimmerer, preface, x).

The stories within this book’s pages, though different, are nonetheless intertwined and connected to the point it is almost impossible to discuss one without reference to another. The following is just one of many that shifted my thinking. In it, Wall Kimmerer speaks about the “grammar of animacy”, and the ways in which we use language to describe the living world in hierarchical terms:

“In English, you are either a human or a thing. Our grammar boxes us in by the choice of reducing a non-human being to it … Where are words for the simple existence of another living being? My friend Michael Nelson, an ethicist who thinks a great deal about moral inclusion, told me about a woman he knows, a field biologist whose work is among other-than-humans. Most of her companions are not two-legged, and so her language has shifted to accommodate her relationships. She kneels along the trail to inspect a set of moose tracks, saying, ‘Someone’s already been this way this morning.’ ‘Someone’s in my hat,’ she says, shaking out a deer fly. Someone, not something,” (Wall Kimmerer, p 56). 

Language is not neutral. It reflects the core beliefs and assumptions of the society that speaks it, reinforcing them at every utterance. Language has power. And in our classrooms, some of the lessons we teach may be unintentional, conveyed only through the words we choose. 

All my life I have referred to wasps (and a significant number of other animals and plants for that matter) as “it”. And that language, inherently distancing, probably did not help me to see my interconnectedness with the world I was describing.

Our science curriculum is full of sustainability and environmental impact expectations. And we hope that by teaching students about these critical issues, we empower and inspire them to care for the world (an all-too-relevant need, as the string of environmental catastrophes this summer alone has shown us). But – even unintentionally – does the language we use to teach, to describe the living world, run antithetical to these lofty curricular goals? Are we trying to swim one way, with the current of our words pulling us in another? Can someone truly care about and for trees, waterways, and pollinating insects when we ascribe language that reduces them to an “it”? It is a question worth exploring, and Wall Kimmerer offers some observations:

“Our toddlers speak of plants and animals as if they were people, extending to them self and intention and compassion – until we teach them not to. We quickly retrain them and make them forget. When we tell them the tree is not a who, but an it, we make that maple an object; we put a barrier between us, absolving ourselves of moral responsibility and opening the door to exploitation. Saying it makes a living land into ‘natural resources’. If a maple is an it we can take up the chainsaw. If a maple is a her, we think twice,” (Wall Kimmerer p 57).

I sat on the couch a while longer and reflected that while being stung remains a very unpleasant way of waking up in the morning, wasps do have an important place in our world. They consume insects and control populations that would otherwise ravage vegetable gardens. And even though they are not as efficient as bees, they do have the ability to pollinate flowers, adding to our source of fruit. And that seems like a pretty good thing for everyone. 

So, perhaps language can shift thinking. Perhaps it might move me from indifference at batting away a wasp, to seeing connection, and being more careful the next time I walk across our shared home. 

There are countless applications to teaching and learning (and unlearning) in the pages of this wise and beautiful book. If you have the chance to read it, I wish you joyful discoveries. But for now, I think I’ll go have a salad for lunch. I have some fresh cucumbers someone helped make for me. 

My second year as an ISSP teacher feels very different from the first. The fog of uncertainty has lifted. This year, I know more about what the role entails and what is expected of me. There’s more of a sense of calm because the work feels clearer and more structured. But even with that clarity, one large mountain stands in front of me: confidence.

For me, finding my confidence again has proven to be one of the hardest parts of this journey. In our bi-weekly meetings, I often feel like I’m running a marathon before I even begin to speak. Instead of focusing on the conversation in the moment, my mind starts racing as I overthink what I’ll say next. And when I finally do share, I worry that my nerves are louder than my words. It instantly takes me back to my time in school and my fear of speaking in front of large groups.

In moments like this, I would often engage in self-talk, reminding myself to breathe and that in many other situations, I am confident.

After a recent meeting, I reflected on why I felt so unsettled and how I might approach it differently next time. That reflection brought me back to my teaching practice in my classroom, where I often guided my students through their own nerves, helping them manage stress and anxiety before presentations.

I know that building confidence applies to us all. As adults, we can find ourselves in new roles or situations that challenge us and bring out our insecurities. It’s something our students experience too. Just like me, they worry about saying the wrong thing, stumbling over words, or being judged. If I want to climb my own mountain of confidence, I also want to help my students climb theirs.

Here are a few strategies I’ve leaned on in my personal journey and in the classroom, even more so recently for myself, to boost confidence and presentation skills.

Firstly, Normalize Nerves

I remind myself and my students that nerves are normal and even useful. They mean you care about what you are sharing. To help normalize this, I talk about it openly with my students. I sometimes even admit that I still get nervous speaking in front of others. When students see that everyone gets nervous, it removes some of the stigma and pressure to be “perfect.”

Remember to Practice in Small Steps

Instead of jumping straight into a full presentation, I often present to my colleagues or record myself. I then use my reflections or feedback to improve myself. In the classroom, I would create small group opportunities. A chance to turn-and-talk or read a single sentence aloud. Gradually, these small, low-pressure moments help us get comfortable with speaking in front of others.

Use Preparation as a Confidence Tool

This tip has been the most helpful to me. I like to write out what I want to say before meetings. I create a script from the moment I know I have to speak to the last sentence I will have to say. Ninety-nine percent of the time, I don’t use it. Why? Because I know nothing goes as scripted, and by that time, I am more confident that I know what I want to say. However, in the nervous moments leading up to the event, it reminds me that I am prepared, and if I get so nervous, I just have to look at my paper and find my thoughts. I encourage students to script or outline their thoughts as well. Some need cue cards, others prefer mind maps. Simply knowing there is a plan to fall back on helps ground my confidence.

Celebrate Every Attempt

I make it a point to celebrate effort over polish. My shaky voice or mispronunciation is still progress worth acknowledging. Confidence grows when we feel safe to try again, not when we feel judged for not being perfect the first time. After my presentations, I truly value the moments my colleagues recognize my efforts and support me by praising what I have done well. That recognition motivates me to keep trying and to continue facing my nerves.

Honestly, nerves might always be part of my story, but so is growth. By preparing, staying present, practicing, and celebrating progress, I know I can keep moving forward. And maybe confidence isn’t a single mountain to conquer, but a path I keep walking, not running, one steady step at a time.

 

The arts are a way of knowing that provides ways of perceiving, interpreting, organizing, and questioning various aspects of our world through exploration and experimentation.

• Ontario Arts Curriculum

Am I an artist? 

I asked myself this question more than once when I signed up for a workshop with a local author and spoken word artist.  The workshop focus was on the International Decade of People of African Descent here in Canada and, as consolidation of our thinking and learning, we were to create a visual representation.  This would be used to create a collaborative quilt – so I was feeling the pressure. 

Am I an artist? 

What did an artist do?  Words are my most comfortable form of artistic expression – but is that considered being an artist?  I could include some words on my quilt square, that was allowed as part of our consolidation.  It seemed so risky to push myself out of my comfort zone and into visual artistic interpretation that was going to go on display…

Am I an artist? 

I decided that I was going to try my hand at sketching and drawing.  After listening to the presentation and thinking about the history of the lands in Niagara, I was going to honour the generations of people of African Descent.  It was important to me to do right by this assignment.  I bought some pencil crayons and markers and took my papers ready to try my best.  The whole time, I was questioning and wondering whether I was the right person for this job. 

Am I an artist? 

I started thinking about lines from the poem and from the learning that was shared with us.  Brainstorming a visual or a person or a place that brought those words to life really helped me to develop a plan.  Next came the sketching part – shape, size, colouring.  

Using bright colours, deep colours, and shading to emphasize different ways to make my thinking come to life took time and patience.  During this time creating, I was thinking intensely about what I learned and what the most important messaging was for me – I recognized that I was fully engaged in communicating my thoughts and ideas about the session. 

Am I an artist? 

My drawing weren’t perfect, but after the first quilt square, I enjoyed the process so much I completed a few more.  Each time, I took a little more ‘risk’ and created more complicated drawings even attempting a portrait of Chloe Cooley for one.  

The whole experience started out being uncomfortable, but as I few in confidence, thinking, and learning I began to really have fun.  My drawings became more meaningful to me with each expression and I sought new and different ideas to try out.

I thought a lot about the moments when we ask students to engage in artistic expression.  It’s about noticing, being creative, and thinking critically.  And it’s challenging!  Like all great learning experiences, it takes time and effort.  There were some parts where I didn’t know how to fill those blank spaces and I had to look up suggestions for colours and shapes online.  I reflected back in those moments teaching art classes and wondered how I helped students to move through this process from uncomfortable to confident.  I hope I gave them time to enjoy the challenge of learning deeply enough to feel proud of their work.     

Am I an artist? 

I think the answer to this question just might be yes.  

 

Some time ago, I received a book of quotes and poetry by Maya Angelou.  It’s a lovely, little green display book that stands on its own like a flip chart and each page has a quote or idea inspired by Maya Angelou.  This book has sat on my desk and followed me around from school to school and classroom to classroom as an inspirational grounding for me; in quiet moments of reflection I’ll read a few pages that apply to both personal and professional significance.  My most favourite page has the quote, “You may not think you can change things. Try anyway.”  Inspired by this, I’ve thought about some of the lessons I learned last year and will take forward with me to this year….

You may plan the perfect unit, lesson, or assignment. It might be a subject that you love and you’re certain that it will be the spark that helps the children to love it, too.  Then, your teaching assignment changes.  Plan anyway. 

You may have prepared your lesson plans.  They may be meticulously detailed and you believe you’ve thought of everything.  You may have to shift because the students need more time, there’s a last minute change in the day or a fire drill.  Prepare anyway. 

You may start your year building community in your classroom and you may work at these relationships for a long time together.  It may take many attempts and experiences or it may be a series of small, undefinable moments together. And still, it may not be perfect.  Build it anyway. 

You may learn new and exciting teaching strategies.  You may want to try out some of these lessons with students and see how it makes a difference for them – and it might be messy the first or second or third time.  Be messy anyway. 

You might have days when you are thinking through a problem together as a class or with your colleagues.  Maybe you don’t have an answer right away, maybe the solution isn’t quite what you anticipated.  Think together anyway. 

You will have overwhelming days when everything feels heavy.  It might feel uncomfortable to ask for an extension, some help, or grace from others, but there are friends who want to help you.  So ask anyway. 

I hope we all find courage and inspiration to continue planning, prepping, inspiring, learning, and supporting students and each other. For now, take a breath, be in the moment, find inspiration and joy in the hard work that we do.

Our classrooms today have a strong emphasis on feeling safe and welcome in September.  I remember feeling intimidated and overwhelmed on the first day of school. However, when I compare my childhood experience to the stories told by residential school survivors I am deeply saddened and want to support Indigenous Peoples by sharing the truth about residential schools. I am an Irish-Canadian so I read books written by Indigenous authors to give authentic voice to this topic.  Here are some suggestions of books that can be read in September to prepare students for the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation on September 30th, also known as Orange Shirt Day.

Phyllis Webstad

There are several excellent books by Phyllis Webstad, who is the founder of the Orange Shirt movement. Her 2018 book, “The Orange Shirt Story” has details about her experiences in residential school and the painful separation from her grandmother. This book is better suited to students who are in grade 3 and up. Her 2019 version of this story is intended for younger readers and is entitled “Phyllis’s Orange Shirt”. 

In 2022 Phyllis created “With Our Orange Hearts” with illustrator Emily Kewageshig. Written in rhyming couplets this book explains why September 30th is known as Orange Shirt Day and the meaning behind the phrase, “Every Child Matters”. It is appropriate for all ages and has familiar symbols in the artwork that create interesting discussions in class.  There are many hearts and butterflies throughout the story as well as an eagle, feathers, stars, the sun, a rainbow and children in a circle. The art supports the story beautifully. Teachers using this book could then integrate this read aloud with art appreciation and explore other work by Emily Kewageshig on her website.  

“Every Child Matters” was published in 2023 with illustrations by Karlene Harvey. It reviews Phyllis’s experience as a child at residential school in more detail than the 2022 book and has an afterward which can help teachers develop a better understanding of the history. The artist has included Indigenous cultural symbols such as medicine wheels, smudging, lacrosse and fishing. I love rich illustrations which go beyond the words to help readers better understand the story. 

“I am Not a Number” by Jenny Kay Dupuis and Kathy Kacer

I would only use this book with students in junior or intermediate grades. When sharing stories like this one, it is important to be aware of our students.  There may be students in the class who are related to residential school survivors. There may be students who have been through traumatic experiences that could be triggered by the situations described in residential schools.

For suggestions on how to use this book check out the review in ETFO Voice https://etfovoice.ca/node/1347 .

“Stolen Words” by Melanie Florence

The grandfather in this book was forbidden to use his first language when he went to residential school. It is a moving story as the granddaughter listens to what happened to him and then brings home a dictionary so they can learn the Cree language together.   I use this book annually in my primary classes but can be used with any age group. There is an underlying message of hope, as there is in Phyllis Webstad’s books.  It promotes the idea that by listening and understanding we can make positive change for the future.  

ETFO Resources

https://etfovoice.ca/feature/teaching-and-learning-about-truth-and-reconciliation-our-youngest-learners

https://etfofnmi.ca/

https://etfofnmi.ca/truth-and-reconciliation/

https://etfofnmi.ca/wp-content/uploads/2024/09/EWS_Healing-Conversations_Final_2024.pdf

 

This summer, I basked in the Ontario sun, enjoyed lake walks and quality family time. I listened to novels for fun, caught up with friends, and snuck in a little Netflix marathon. Like many of us, I treasure summer as a chance to rest, recharge, and spark new creativity. Still, it didn’t take long before teaching crept back into my thoughts. Soon, my feeds were filled with educator tips, last year’s wins and lessons replayed in my mind, and a growing list of books, podcasts, and webinars I wanted to squeeze in before September.

As the calendar edges toward a new school year, I begin to ask myself the same questions, What do I want to do better, what do I want to repeat and what do I want to let go of for myself and my students? Setting a goal each year has become a tradition, one that keeps me motivated and focused on growth. 

In my earlier years of teaching, this happened almost without thinking. I would start the year eager, excited to dive into what I wanted to accomplish. But after stepping into a new role last year as an In-School Support Program Teacher, my reflections shifted. While I still work with many of the same students, the experience feels very different from being a classroom teacher. This summer, my reflections centred on what worked and what didn’t in my intensive support groups, where I felt less confident, and how I could better prepare myself with the knowledge and skills to support those areas.

To make this process energizing instead of overwhelming, I’ve built a strategy for goal-setting that feels both personal and fun. First, I reflect and celebrate. I journal my favourite memories from the past year, what made me proud and what I wish I had tried. Looking back on progress gives me momentum to keep going. Then I write down bold goals, “Every student feels heard and seen,” and then break them into manageable steps, weekly check-ins, and more student-choice projects. After that, I talk about my goals with teacher friends. Their perspectives spark fresh ideas and help me see new possibilities. Lastly, colourful sticky notes on my desk remind me of my goals and offer little bursts of encouragement. These small, bright cues keep me inspired day to day.

Each September feels like flipping to a new chapter. This year, I’m focusing on building a more inclusive environment, prioritizing wellness for myself and my students, and weaving joy into everyday moments, whether through silly games, a shared laugh, or a new storytime tradition. By setting goals with intention and heart, I’m ready to welcome the year with excitement.

In my previous post I shared a definition of background knowledge. I then provided insight to how background knowledge differs from prior knowledge, and I briefly explained why part of our work as educators involves helping student gain the background knowledge they need to engage with the texts we use to teach. I also explained how when students learn new vocabulary and information because of reading one text, it further expands the background knowledge they need to read other texts. In this post, I’ll share two instructional strategies I plan to use to support students in gaining the background knowledge they need to read. I’ll also share a quick and easy assessment strategy to gain insight to students’ background knowledge on a topic. My hope is that the ideas and information I provide may be useful for other educators. The tips below are in no specific order.

1. Read Aloud to Students to Help Build their Background Knowledge and Vocabulary

In the book, What the Science of Reading Says about Reading Comprehension and Content Knowledge, authors Jennifer Jump and Kathleen Kopp explain that decades of research highlight how regularly reading aloud to students helps them to build the background knowledge and vocabulary needed to support learning about a topic. They further go on to say when selecting a text for a read-aloud educators should choose texts that are challenging and rigorous to expose students to new vocabulary and information.

Jump and Kopp note that while students may struggle to decode and comprehend the text independently, having them listen and not decode reduces the cognitive load for students so they can focus on making sense of the story and/or information. As a result, the listening experience provides students with opportunities to engage with rich content, exposes them to new vocabulary, and adds to their knowledge about a topic. This year, read alouds will be a central part of my classroom program for the reasons mentioned above. To support, I’ll use the Read Aloud Routine for Improving Vocabulary and Comprehension resource that I found on the ONlit.org website; this resource provides educators with a step-by-step read-aloud guide to help them with their read-aloud routine.

2. Use Coherent and Cohesive Texts

In the article, The Role of Background Knowledge in Reading Comprehension: A Critical Review, researchers Reid Smith, Pamela Snow, Tanya Serry and Lorraine Hammond explain that the cohesion and coherence of a text determines how much background knowledge a reader needs to understand it. They go on to say that low-coherence and low-cohesion texts requires a reader to possess more background knowledge to understand it because the author or authors are writing for an audience that they assume possess enough knowledge about the topic to understand the contents so they spend less time explaining the meaning of certain words or clarifying certain ideas. On the opposite side, texts with high-coherence and high-cohesion requires less background knowledge because the author or authors make direct connections between concepts and ideas that connect sentence with paragraphs that span the entire text. Meaning, they spend more time defining vocabulary and clarifying ideas for readers.

To support all students in my class, but particularly those who may have low-levels of background knowledge and gaps in their foundational reading skills, I plan to use texts with high-coherence and high-cohesion to support building their background knowledge on a topic. One text that immediately comes to mind is the young readers edition of The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind by William Kamkwamba and Bryan Mealer. In this memoir, the authors chronicle Kamkwamba’s experience as a 13-year-old boy who constructs a windmill out of scrap material to bring water and electricity to his rural village in Malawi. Because the authors use a lot of scientific and technical vocabulary to describe Kamkwamba’s process of constructing the windmill and the memoir is intended for an adolescent audience, the text is written in a highly coherent and cohesive way to ensure it is accessible to young readers. While the Science and Technology curriculum is not part of my teaching assignment, I think helping students acquire the rich vocabulary and information about the scientific process may be useful for other texts that I may use with them during the year.

3. Pose Questions to Assess and Activate Background Knowledge

Again, in the book, What the Science of Reading Says about Reading Comprehension and Content Knowledge, Jump and Kopp write, “Before reading any text, teachers can and should first activate students’ background knowledge”. Activating students’ background knowledge honours the knowledge that they bring to the classroom, provides teachers with insight to what student already know and what they need to learn, and reveals potential misinformation that needs to be clarified. Posing questions is one way that educators can assess and activate students background knowledge on a topic.

For example, when thinking about my history program which is a language-based subject, I’m thinking about using the book 21 Things You May Not Know About the Indian Act: Helping Canadians Make Reconciliation with Indigenous People a Reality, by Bob Joseph. I think this book will help me to explicitly teach overall expectation A3. Understanding Historical Context: Events and Their Consequences where students will need to describe how various people and events contributed to the development of Canada between 1850 and 1890. Some the events listed in the overall expectation include the development of the Indian Act and the establishment of treaties between Indigenous Nations and the Crown. To gain insight to what students already know about the Indian Act or treaties, I may ask them simple direct questions like, has anyone ever heard of the Indian Act or a treaty? Or tell me one thing you have heard or know about either the Indian Act or a treaty? I may choose to do this as a whole class discussion or have students work in small groups so they can discuss and build on their collective knowledge before sharing their responses. From their individual and collective responses, I’ll gain insight to what next steps I need to take to inform my lesson preparation and instruction. Meaning, what background knowledge do students need to acquire before we/they read excerpts from the book.

My positionality: To preface this post, I am engaging in this work as a co-learner rather than an expert. As a racialized woman and a life-long learner, my role as an anti-racist teacher involves knowing the students and families in front of me to create equitable learning experiences to ensure students feel a sense of belonging and community. This means doing the heart and hard work of learning and unlearning.

Cultivating an equity mindset isn’t a checklist—it’s a lifelong journey. It involves continual reflection, deep listening, and a commitment to shifting how we see and support our students. In this article, we’re exploring two powerful shifts that can transform our practice: Asset-Based Thinking and Lifelong Learning and Unlearning.

• Read here Part One!
• Read here for Part Two!
• Read here for Part Three!

Shift # 5 Intentionally Disrupting Thinking

The act of disrupting requires us to examine who benefits from current systems and who is left behind when learning opportunities are presented. 

This is one of the hardest shifts, because it often requires us to have uncomfortable, brave conversations. Remember when we talked about the importance of critical conversations? Yes, they are uncomfortable—but they are necessary to interrupt harmful language, behaviours, and systems.

Notice: 

Often we are more attuned to noticing harm when it personally impacts our identity. This is why Shift # 4 (Lifelong Learning and Unlearning), is so essential—it helps us build awareness and notice more, especially when the harm isn’t directly personal. This means being committed to learning, having critical friends, listening with three ears (two with your ears, one with your heart). 

As we notice we reflect on these questions: 

• • Which students get access to resources and opportunities? 
  • Whose stories are represented in the curriculum? 
  • Which students will benefit from this? Which students will not?
  • What adjustments do I/we need to make?

Addressing: Calling In versus Calling Out

Addressing harm is about more than just correction—it’s about creating a compassionate space for growth, understanding, and accountability.

Both calling in and calling out are valid strategies, and which one we choose depends on context, timing, and emotional labour.

• Calling In: A private or small-group conversation that invites dialogue and reflection around harm caused.
• Calling Out: A public acknowledgment or challenge to harmful behaviour or language.

Tiffany Jewell offers these reflection questions in This Book is Anti-Racist (pg. 116–117) before calling in or out: 

Who has the power in the situation? Am I calling out a person or a systemic barrier? How much energy and emotional labour am I able to share right now? Is this person likely to change their problematic behaviour? What am I hoping to accomplish with this call-in or call-out

Educators with equity habits of mind are willing to challenge tradition and advocate for change—especially when it’s uncomfortable.

This is the real work of anti-racist and anti-oppressive education.

This post marks the final post in my Equity Mindset series (for now). Thank you for engaging with these reflections and shifts alongside me. My hope is that each shift has offered a moment of pause, a spark of curiosity, or a deeper commitment to your own  journey. These shifts are not meant to be mastered, but practiced—over and over again. Let’s continue to learn together, ask better questions, and center the voices and needs of the students in front of us.

Some Resources to review:

Calling in Vs. Calling Out Guide by Harvard University