Category: General

Those who know me are well aware of my love of live events and especially concerts and musicals.  I love the theatrics, the costumes, the soundtracks. Something beautiful comes together on the stage in that very moment of storytelling that makes the characters come alive through the music and the shared experience. 

I’ve never really found the same love for sports, though.  Don’t get me wrong, put me in a live audience and I’m cheering with the best of them!  But I don’t follow a specific team and I’m not a sports fanatic. I’ve always felt a little removed from sports and the athletes seemed a little impersonal to me.  It’s a storyline I just can’t follow with a lot of excitement or connection. 

Lately, that seems to be changing.  

With the spotlight on women’s sports, I’m finding myself connected with the athletes.  I’m following their stories, their rises through the ranks, their funny commentaries on social media about themselves and their teammates. I’m listening to these women talk during interviews about topics that are important to me: challenges they face, uplifting one another, finding their own stories and who they truly are. Somehow, through all of these interactions, I have gained a renewed interest in sports. 

It wasn’t the shared identity or interest in sports that finally got me to remember the names of professional athletes or put the game on TV. It was that I saw a shared experience, the same struggles that many of us have: being questioned about talent, setting boundaries, trying to balance careers, mental health, and being true to ourselves. Naomi Osaka and Simone Biles stepping away from their careers to take care of themselves and their health.  Alysia Liu drawing boundaries and defining herself in her own way. Ilona Maher championing body positivity. Their journeys helped my lived experience as a woman feel a little more familiar, a little more seen. In their stories I saw humanity and a reminder that representation isn’t just about who we see, but what parts of ourselves we recognize in others. 

The books, the stories we share with students in schools might echo the same way. Flashes where students might see themselves represented through common experiences, emotions, and challenges. Instances where children might recognize their own stories and respond with a quiet, “hey, me too.”  This is exactly why representation matters: when students see reflections of their identities, they feel less alone and a little more understood. These connections can cultivate compassion, confidence and even a feeling of community.  

I still don’t identify as an athlete and it’s pretty unlikely that I will ever willingly join a sports team. But you will find me following some incredible athletes on social media and liking all their posts. I’ll still be cheering loudly and boldly at any live sporting event I’m attending. Perhaps, though, I’ll be a little bit louder for the women with a voice that is cheering for their power, their resistance, their continued pursuit of excellence. This representation feels personal; their presence feels like a win for anyone who’s ever been underestimated or whose struggles felt unseen. When I look at sports through this lens, it would seem we’re no longer in competition with each other.  Instead, we’re all on the same team. 

 

In my previous post I shared that one of the things I find joyful about teaching is witnessing students make progress in their learning and recognizing that I had some part in it. In this post, I’ll focus on the joy that I find comes from learning how to improve my teaching practices from direct work with students. Again, my hope in sharing the insights included in this post is that they help other educators reflect on what brings them joy in their teaching practices, then think of ways to use that joy to further fuel their passion for teaching and learning.

One of the reasons that I became a teacher beyond a love of helping and working with kids is that I really enjoy learning. To be more specific, I enjoy reading, writing, thinking and engaging in conversations with others about things that add value and meaning to their lives. Because I enjoy learning, I hope that what and how I teach inspires students to engage in the learning we do together and that it brings them some joy and adds meaning to their lives. To hopefully ignite or further fuel a joy of learning in students, I spend a lot of time preparing my lessons and assignments. During instructions I am constantly monitoring student responses to verify their engagement and understanding and while they are working on assigned tasks, I often meet with them in small groups or one-to-one to observe their progress and provide individualize constructive feedback to aid them in further progress.

Over the course of this year, I found that my small group and one-to-one meetings were where I had some of the best opportunities to see how my teaching of the curriculum landed with students.

While traditionally, teachers have been positioned as the ones to impart knowledge to students and it has often been seen as a one-way transactional process, I prefer to utilize a Paulo Freire educational approach where I recognize that both students and teachers are learners and participants in a learning community. This translates to mean that both students and teachers enter classroom spaces with valuable funds of knowledge to share and support the ongoing teaching and learning of all participants within the community. As a result of the sharing of knowledge both grow from their experience of collaborating and working together. I know that I have become and continue to become a better teacher from my work with students and the indirect and sometimes direct feedback they have given me.

For example, to keep myself and students organized this year, I often used slide decks for my whole group instructions. However, during a small group meeting, several students shared that sometimes I moved too fast through the slide decks and sometimes they found them difficult to see from their seat at the back of the classroom.  Finding this to be useful feedback, I made immediate changes. I first posted a digital copy of the deck on our virtual learning platform so students could access them through classroom devices while I taught lessons. I also slowed my rate of instruction to provide more thinking time for students and created workspaces closer to the front of the classroom where students could sit and work to obtain a better view of the screen.

I think being open to hearing and learning about what students need to support and be successful in their learning, then being responsive to those needs is such a vital part of my teaching practice; It reminds me that I teach students the curriculum not the curriculum to students. Understanding the subtle but clear difference between teaching students the curriculum and not the other way around ensures that adapting the curriculum to support student learning remains at the fore of my mind. When I learn simple or complex new ways to help students learn, it brings me immense joy.

The Steps to English Proficiency continua (STEP) is one of those teaching tools that never ceases to surprise me with new insights every time I come back to it. To be sure, there are moments when I wish it was updated, more reflective of changing pedagogy, and more streamlined. However, its importance in our linguistically diverse schools is undeniable.

To those who are unfamiliar, STEP is an Ontario Ministry-developed tool that help educators understand and track the English language development of multilingual language learners (MLLs). They are used to guide instruction, accommodations, and programming in oral communication, reading, and writing.

I have noticed in recent years that many educators are less intrigued by language proficiency and more concerned with literacy screener scores – and it’s not hard to see why.

Unlike other ways of measuring language development, STEP does not have a tangible and specific assessment that generates scores and identifies students at risk. Its purpose is to give educators a sense of a student’s level of English proficiency, so they can plan, adapt, and assess  instruction accordingly. Educators use triangulated assessment (observations, conversations, products) to place students at different proficiency levels. When a student remains “stuck” at a level for an extended period of time, it would be a possible indicator that additional assessments and direct support may be needed.

Screeners and diagnostics, on the other hand, really pinpoint which skills students need to develop to become better readers, and regular progress monitoring helps educators, students, and their families to map growth. What is important to note, however, is that literacy screeners assume that students already know and speak the language they mapping onto different combinations of letters, or graphemes. MLLs in the early STEPs, unlike proficient English speakers, have the more complex challenge of learning the English language at the same time that they are connecting its phonemes to written script.

So what does the STEP continua have to do with it? When we stop paying attention to language proficiency, we risk looking at literacy screener and diagnostic scores out of context. It is only when we look at both of them in tandem that we can gather useful insights about an MLL’s literacy portrait.

For example, an early STEP student may score low on a literacy screener because they are still learning English sounds and syntax, developing oral speech in English, acquiring vocabulary, or processing unfamiliar academic language: not necessarily because of an underlying reading difficulty. It is only when educators examine both STEP data and literacy assessment results together that they can build a more accurate and strengths-based literacy portrait of MLLs.

A colleague recently shared her frustration that the “MLL perspective” was noticeably absent from conversations with about literacy screeners at her school. Another literacy coach commented, “I’m tired of hearing teachers use ESL as an excuse for students doing poorly in reading.” Statements like these highlight the ongoing need for professional learning that bridges the gap between English language learning pedagogy and structured literacy approaches.

It is clear that STEP implementation is more important than ever. Without regularly utilizing and referencing shared language and tool for describing language proficiency for MLLs, especially those in the youngest and most formative years, we minimize and possibly even lose sight of a critical piece of data about students’ oral language foundations, which is well known to be a key indicator of student success.

Did you know that ETFO has a resource that may be a great starting point for you if you are interested in learning more?

Enhance classroom practices with these considerations when implementing early reading screeners and analyzing the data from multilingual language learners. (PDF)

As educators, we know how important strong home school partnerships are. When families feel connected to what is happening in the classroom, they are often able to better able to support their child’s learning and engage in meaningful conversations. The challenge, of course, is finding the time to communicate while balancing everything else we do each day.

As both a parent and an educator, this is something I value deeply. It means a lot when my own children’s teachers share not only what is happening in class, but also the strengths they notice and the areas where my children are growing. It helps me feel connected, informed, and better able to support them at home.

Recently, I had the chance to speak with a Grade 6 teacher whose families consistently say they feel very connected throughout the year. I was curious to learn what makes the difference.

Her answer was simple: consistency.

She shared that communication starts early in the year with positive messages home. Sometimes it is a quick email, other times a short phone call to share something she noticed that made her smile. These small moments go a long way in building trust from the start.

While we often think of positive phone calls home, there are also times when we need to reach out to share concerns or ask for support. In those moments, I try to keep the same mindset of partnership. Sometimes my message is as simple as, “I wanted to share what I am noticing and see if you are noticing something similar at home”. That shift in language helps me open the door for collaboration and brings families into the process, rather than only when concerns become more serious.

She also shared that communication is built into routines she already has. Each week, she uses her school’s Virtual Learning Environment (VLE) to share what students are learning, post helpful resources, and give families a view into classroom life. At the end of the week, she posts a short update with reminders, upcoming events, assessments, and a snapshot of learning, what has been covered and what is coming next. This helps families stay informed and gives them natural ways to continue conversations at home.

As she shared her routine, I found myself reflecting on my own practice.

When I first started teaching, one of the things that made me the most nervous was calling parents. I often worried about saying the wrong thing or upsetting families, especially when I needed to call about a concern. Over time, I learned that these conversations are not about having the perfect words, but about building trust and approaching families with honesty and care.

My approach now looks a little different. Each month, I send home a brief curriculum overview for each subject. Throughout the week, I use our VLE to share tasks, feedback, and helpful links. I also make time for positive phone calls and emails whenever I can. Looking back, I realized we are both doing the same thing in different ways. Neither approach is wrong, we have simply built systems that work within our own routines.

What stayed with me from my conversion is that effective family communication is about being intentional so families feel informed, connected, and valued.

The horseshoe table is a special place in my classroom.  It’s a meeting place where students come when they want academic help or for an alternate workplace.  Sometimes I hold small group instruction at the table and sometimes individual assessments. The table is a safe space to work and talk and learn.  

There is such value in listening to children read. No matter which grade I teach, I always make time to listen to students read out loud. It’s an important interaction that helps  build confidence and creates a space where both assessment and feedback can take place with care. Many of my students have loved coming to the horseshoe table to read aloud and share what they love about stories. This experience is even more valuable when they are not feeling confident about their reading skills. The table gives them a place to practice that is private and safe.  

Each year it takes me a little while to build up to small group and individual reading time.  The first few weeks of school are about learning expectations and finding our way to independent work. I spend time building relationships with students so that they also feel comfortable reading aloud with me. Coming to the table shouldn’t feel like a test, I want to feel like our time together reading is a way for us to learn about ourselves as readers. 

In our first few meetings, I’m transparent about our purpose. I share that reading aloud is important practice and is a way that I can hear what they are doing well. I also explain that listening to them read lets me give them tips about reading. This might be the same as ‘Two Stars and a Wish’ where they hear two great things they are doing and one strategy to practice. 

Listening to students read aloud gives me the opportunity to hear their reading fluency.  In the curriculum, “fluency is the ability to read text accurately, at an appropriate pace, with expression. It is the bridge between word recognition and comprehension.” As students develop their reading fluency, it becomes easier for them to make sense of the text. Fluency is based on more than just word recognition, it also includes pacing and expression. I often marvel at how pacing and expression can indicate a student’s comprehension of a text.  For example, when it’s an exciting part and students are reading fluently I might hear their expression change to match the emotions of a character. These are the parts of reading fluency that I need to hear through reading aloud and the reading table is the best place to listen. 

At the first reading table meeting, I start with a few minutes reading short passages, like poetry or their favourite part of a book they are reading. This quick meet and greet to the reading table helps to set the tone and the time together. As meetings become more regular, selecting engaging and accessible texts is helpful. Check the resources in your classroom or school for books and reading materials that students can access and enjoy. These resources can be invaluable for students practising their reading fluency and building confidence as readers.

There’s so much to learn about the reading strategies students use when encountering a difficult word, how they read with expression, their understanding of characters and emotions and plot.  Whether in a small group or individually, time reading aloud together also offers the chance for us to model to students what fluency could sound like and engage in direct, personalized instruction. It’s assessment in the moment while developing a teaching relationship that is student centred. Whether you have your own horseshoe table or your moment takes place at the carpet or at your desk, listening to student reading will create the opportunity to learn more about your students as readers. 

As a math teacher, I often use my professional judgement* to select word problems for students.  I want to see how students apply math for a specific purpose; whether an open question that allows for multiple entry points or whether I hope to elicit a certain equation. These word problems sometimes integrate one or two strands in math. For example, engaging in both measurement and number as students added side lengths to determine perimeter. There are great problems in the sample tasks of the curriculum that are designed to help students learn through problem solving.

If you’ve looked closely at the math curriculum, you will see one of the overall expectations has no accompanying specific expectations. Located in algebra, this expectation is named Mathematical Modelling.  This expectation offers students the opportunity to: “apply the process of mathematical modelling to represent, analyse, make predictions, and provide insight into real-life situations”.  

What is this and how is it different from the word problems I loved? 

As it turns out, mathematical modelling is quite different. It’s a process based expectation, meaning that while students are solving a real life, messy problem, they are going through the mathematical modelling process. Students apply this process to various contexts, bringing in learning from other strands. This is different from other traditional problem solving in specific math expectations where a word problem leads students to solve a with a specific equation or strategy. In modelling, students look at a problem outside of mathematics and then use math to propose and revise their model. 

To see the modelling cycle, look to the link that leads you to the curriculum and resources tab. You’ll find a graphic that helped me to think a little more about the mathematical modelling cycle. 

You’ll notice this is a repetitive cycle; meaning that the educator guides students to revisit the four components of mathematical modelling. The arrows suggest that each stage of the process allows opportunity for students to return to a previous stage and reflect on their model. Take a look at stage four, the stage where problem solving may be ‘finished’ with the ‘answer’. In mathematical modelling, students can and should revisit  previous parts of the process and revise or reflect on their model. 

This process mirrors real life and all of the messy ‘figuring out’ and decision making. It’s purpose feels different from a word problem where the expectation is the students extend patterns or use addition to solve how much money they spent at the movies. The focus in modelling is on the process of how we think through real life problems and can use mathematics to help us both question whether our model can provide a solution and look for possible alternative models. 

As I explore and learn more about this overall expectation, I find myself growing as a math teacher. There are so many different ways to teach and learn math; so many different purposes for problem solving and questions to pose.  I’m also learning about the ways that I use math in a real life context. Sometimes I’m estimating at the grocery store when trying to stay under my budget. Sometimes I’m solving a problem, such as planning a community event. While the second problem may not feel as ‘math-y’ as the first, I realize that math truly happen everywhere. 

 

*Professional Judgement- Judgement that is informed by professional knowledge of curriculum expectations, context, evidence of learning, methods of instruction and assessment, and the criteria and standards that indicate success in student learning. In professional practice, judgement involves a purposeful and systematic thinking process that evolves in terms of accuracy and insight with ongoing reflection and self-correction. Growing Success policy (p.158, 2010, Ministry of Education)

 

The first day on the job can be tough for any new employee, especially when they are young and just entering the workforce. Summer jobs, part time work, new environments, unfamiliar faces … all of that uncertainty can sometimes combine to create unexpected situations. Like the following, for your consideration …

A young woman was about to begin one of her first jobs ever, and the boss had asked all new employees to meet in her office for orientation. She was the first to arrive (she liked to be a little early to prepare) and found the door to the office slightly ajar. She could hear voices inside, so she took a seat in the hall.  While she waited, she opened her bag and searched for her list of start-up questions, to review again.

A few minutes later the door opened fully and a client walked out. When the client noticed the young employee sitting there, she startled and looked away, then hurriedly left. The boss came out a moment later and when she saw the young woman, exploded.

“That is unacceptable!” she scolded, pointing a finger at her. “That is just awful, you need to alert people if you are there!” Before she could respond, the boss stormed off down the hall.

It is easy to imagine the thoughts that may have been racing through the boss’s mind just before she reprimanded the employee: The chair was right outside my office. She was close enough to hear any conversation inside. I can hear conversations in the hall myself, even quiet ones. She was not listening to music or talking to anyone; she was just sitting there and clearly had been for some time. Of course she heard everything. She was eavesdropping.

Right?

Right???

The above scenario perfectly illustrates a phenomenon that afflicts all of us humans and is especially relevant in education. I’ve heard it called many things: jumping to conclusions, climbing your Ladder of Inference¹, making up a story, assumptions … But the gist of all of them is this: in any given circumstance, our brains filter events and information through our own individual lenses. And as much as we like to think we know (we just know) what must be going on in any given situation, the truth is we really don’t. Not until the person involved tells us. Until then, we are all only ever operating from our own frame of reference and, let’s face it, limited knowledge. The lived realities of others are not a part of our own experiences, so we jump to conclusions based on incomplete and sometimes biased information. And once a conclusion is in your head, unless you stop to question it, it can result in some regrettable actions.

The truth of the matter was, the young woman in the above scenario did not hear a single word of the conversation, even though it took place only a few feet away from her, and here is why: she had severe hearing loss, and unless she was facing a person in the same room, her hearing aids could not pick up sound properly, and any voices or conversations sounded like muffled white noise to her, if they were detectable at all. And because it was not within her frame of reference, she was completely unaware that a typical-hearing person would be able to hear a conversation behind that slightly-open door. But the boss did not pause; she scrambled up her ladder of inference and ended up yelling at her new, eager employee for something she did not do. And demonstrated a bit of ableism in the process.

Oops.

As teachers, we work with students whose backgrounds, identities, and lived realities may be very different from our own. We may not have all of the information required to identify and respond to students’ needs.  And if we are not careful, if we do not find the pause, the quiet wondering, we risk forming conclusions that may be inaccurate, even harmful.  And there are many scenarios in our day-to-day teaching that require questions rather than conclusions …

Look at the terrible lunches the student brings. The parent must not care. (Or does the student have intolerances and sensory challenges, and the food packed in lunches is what they will eat independently, with parents ensuring proper nutrition in supported environments at home? Or is the family experiencing food insecurity and does not know where to ask for assistance? Or something else?)

That child won’t even look me in the eye … so disrespectful. (Or is it social anxiety? Neurodiversity and difficulty with eye contact? Cultural deference to the teacher? Something else?)

Look at this absence list … how hard is it to get your child to school?  (Or is there a chronic health condition? A student with mental illness? Economic barrier? Trauma? Something else?)

A colleague once told me that when she was a new teacher, she did not understand why some parents and caregivers had difficulty getting their children to school regularly.  After years of supporting students and their families, she quietly remarked that behind many an arms-length absence list is a broken-hearted parent.

So, to all new teachers (and seasoned ones, including myself) if there is one thing to remind ourselves of, it is to find the pause, the quiet center in the storm of our thoughts. To resist rushing up that ladder, furiously grabbing at the rungs of our own experiences, hoisting ourselves up to quick conclusions. Because in the pause we may find reflection. Do I have all the information? Might my identity have shielded me from something here? How can I learn more? As Eugene Ionesco is said to have remarked, “It is not the answer that enlightens, but the question.”

Wishing many beautiful questions to you all.

 

 

¹ Harvard Business School Online, “What Is the Ladder of Inference?”, https://online.hbs.edu/blog/post/ladder-of-inference.

Kindergarten educators are skilled at making the most of the little moments throughout the day. Those few minutes between activities are more than just transitions they are opportunities to build community, spark joy, and prepare children for what comes next. Playful, developmentally appropriate transition experiences help children navigate the daily schedule while creating a sense of belonging. Best of all, many of these activities take just a few minutes to set up and can have a lasting impact on classroom routines and relationships.

Before stepping into my own classroom, I spent several years supply teaching in kindergarten classrooms. I had the privilege of seeing countless creative transition ideas in action. Some educators used mystery bags that encouraged students to ask thoughtful “Wh-” questions, while others turned lining up into a shoe guessing game or energized the class with quick movement challenges. I watched, I learned, and over the years I have carried many of those wonderful ideas into my own practice as a kindergarten planning time teacher.

One of my absolute favorite community builders is a gross motor game called The Hula-Hoop Pass. To play, the entire class stands in a circle holding hands, with a hula hoop resting over one child’s arm. Without letting go of their neighbors’ hands, the group has to wiggle, duck, and step to pass the hoop all the way around the circle until it gets back to the start. It is physically impossible to complete this challenge without everyone’s involvement. Quiet leaders naturally step up, wiggly bodies get to move, and it constantly sparks the sweetest moments of kids spontaneously cheering each other on.

When I want to focus on listening skills and working memory, I turn to a classic round of Broken Telephone. We sit in a circle, and one child whispers a secret phrase into the next child’s ear, following the strict kindergarten rule that you can only repeat it once. The phrase travels all the way around until the last child says it out loud to hilarious, scrambled results. The secret to making this game a hit is choosing completely absurd starting phrases. Sentences like, Chicken chicken banana, Purple socks smell like toast, or The penguin ate my homework, are absolute gold. Beyond the phonological awareness practice, it gently normalizes the fact that miscommunication happens to everyone, and that it is usually just the start of a really good laugh.

Another game I frequently use, which I first discovered during my supply days, is the Your Shoe, My Shoe Game, and it is a beautiful exercise in observation and identity. Everyone sits in a circle, takes off one shoe, and tosses it into a giant pile in the center. After the shoes are thoroughly mixed up, we pick them up one at a time, and the class tries to guess the owner based on size, color, or unique style clues. It encourages the children to truly notice one another, leading to comments like, “Is that Mia’s? She always wears the red ones!” It celebrates their differences and suddenly turns a regular Velcro sneaker into the most fascinating thing in the room.

Finally, to unlock their drama and imagination skills, we love to play This Is Not a Box, which pairs well as an extension to Antoinette Portis’s picture book. I place a simple cardboard box, a stick, or a scarf in the center of the carpet. One child picks it up and, without using any words, mimes using it as something else entirely, like a rocket ship, a mixing bowl, or a giant hat, while the rest of the group guesses what it has become. Because there is no wrong answer, children often surprise us with their creativity and originality during this activity. 

Managing these games smoothly takes a little strategy, but a few quick tricks make all the difference. To match kindergarteners’ energy , I keep these games to quick five or ten minute sessions that keep the momentum high and the fun going. I also make sure to get right down on the floor and play alongside them; putting my own shoe in the pile or whispering the silly phrase, building instant trust and co-regulation. While we play, I loudly narrate the positive social skills I see by saying things like, “I love how patiently you waited for your turn!” or “Look at that beautiful teamwork!” Once the class masters the rules, I even let a student take over as the “teacher” for the round to build their confidence. These moments are short, but the connection they build lasts all day. 

 A cricketer whose bowling average is 12.4 runs per wicket takes 5 wickets for 26 runs and thereby decreases their average by 0.4. How many wickets were taken by the cricketer until the last match?

I can’t remember where I came across that question. It’s still findable on a couple of websites, but I think the first time I encountered it was years ago … perhaps in an ESL teaching resource? I do remember that the author had used this word problem to illustrate the importance of vocabulary knowledge for reading comprehension and solving word problems.

Unless you are familiar with cricket, you may have stumbled while reading the above passage, just like I did. Sure, I can decode it and read it fluently, but I have no idea what on this glorious green earth it means. I have never played cricket. Don’t know the rules. I’m not familiar with any of the special terms (I had to google “cricket vocabulary” to come up with the title of this blog). It bears saying that it’s not just the vocabulary that stumps me in that question, it’s the context; when I first read it, the entire thing was so befuddling I had difficulty determining even the first step in solving the math. Wickets? The only Wicket I know anything about is the Ewok who helped Princess Leia in Return of the Jedi. And I strongly suspect that will not help me here.

Since my teachers’ college days, I have heard about the importance of activating students’ background knowledge for reading and other curriculum tasks.  Background knowledge is critical in supporting all students’ new learning, and yet instances abound when they may encounter curriculum material that is academically and experientially unfamiliar, and culturally embedded. How many times have I seen smart, capable, students stop in confusion when reading a text about going camping, building a snow fort, or ordering a meal in a restaurant from a menu … If you have never done these things before, how would you make meaningful connections to a story about them? How would you understand the main point of the text? Or solve a math question related to it?

All of this leads me to a professional resource I recently read: Teaching Foundational Skills to Adolescent Readers by Douglas Fisher, Nancy Frey, Sarah Ortega, Kierstan Barbee, and Aida Allen-Rotell. In their chapter on background knowledge, the authors summarize the key findings of multiple studies on the effect of background knowledge on learning, and one section in particular offers a helpful distillation:

“When students’ background knowledge is strong, they can more readily comprehend complex texts because as they read, they are able to fill in missing or incomplete information that the author assumed readers know (Ozuru et al., 2009). Conversely, when students’ background knowledge is lacking, comprehension can suffer even for the most motivated readers because they have more difficulty making the logical leaps necessary to fill in the blanks (Elbro & Buch-Iverson, 2013).” (Fisher et al., 2025, p. 35)

So, we know background knowledge has a significant impact on learning new material. But how do we build background knowledge for learners who may not have the experiences and prior learning required to optimally engage with curriculum tasks? And what level of background knowledge is sufficient to make that knowledge, as the multiple studies in the book term it, “usable”?

I wish I could show you the graphic the authors created to illustrate the necessary components of usable background knowledge; it ties it all together nicely.  As a short description, the graphic is a simple circle. The words “Background Knowledge” sit in the very center of this circle, and three interconnected qualities surround it in a continuous cycle: “organized”, “conditionalized”, and “transferrable” (Fisher et al., 2025, p. 38).  To paraphrase the authors’ descriptions, students must have not only an awareness of the topic and its associated vocabulary, but this knowledge must also be organized and connected to other facts, creating a global understanding of the topic rather than disconnected terms and bits of information (defining the term “wicket” may help me a bit, but I need more context); the learner must also know in what conditions it is appropriate to use this knowledge (the authors use a fable to illustrate this one, so I will as well – a student may know a lot about lions and their habitats, but that information isn’t needed when analyzing the moral of the fable The Lion and the Mouse); and finally, the learner must be able to transfer that knowledge to new situations in order to learn (Fisher et al., 2025, pp. 38-42).

Essentially, it is not enough to give students the definitions of unfamiliar words, or perfunctory overviews of unfamiliar topics, before engaging in academic tasks related to them. There is a difference, they quote, between “disconnected facts” and “usable knowledge” (How People Learn: Brain, Mind, Experience, and School, 2000, p. 11, as cited in Fisher et al., 2025).

All of this emphasizes to me the importance of knowing our students, their experiences, their backgrounds. It also highlights the importance of critically evaluating teaching topics and resources … are they familiar and accessible to everyone, or just to students with specific backgrounds and experiences? And how can we guide students in developing their background knowledge, and knowing when and how to use it? To transfer it to new situations?

The authors offer a number of ideas in this regard: initial student self-assessments to determine background knowledge, anticipation guides, and variations on KWL charts by adding a “Use” column as well, so that students are not only recording what they know and want to know about a topic, and what they ended up learning, but also how they will use and apply this information in new contexts.

This entry is not meant to be a comprehensive explainer of the authors’ work by any means, but rather a reflection to pique interest. If you have access to a copy, there are lots of practical, research-backed strategies for your classroom. And many of the studies they cite are available free online too, including some of those listed below.

Good luck – Yub nub!

 

 

References

Elbro, C., & Buch-Iversen, I. (2013). Activation of background knowledge for inference making: Effects on reading comprehension. Scientific Studies of Reading, 17(6), 435–452.

Fisher, D., Frey, N., Ortega, S., Barbee, K., Allen-Rotell, Aida. (2025). Teaching foundational skills to adolescent readers. Corwin Press.

National Research Council. (2000). How people learn: Brain, mind, experience, and school. In J.D. Bransford, A.L. Brown, & R. Cocking (Eds.), Commission on behavioral and social sciences and education. National Academy Press.

Ozuru, Y., Dempsey, K., & McNamara, D. S. (2009). Prior knowledge, reading skill, and text cohesion in the comprehension of science texts. Learning and Instruction, 19(3), 228–242. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.learninstruc.2008.04.003

 

It’s that time of the year where I reflect on my practice, and think about THREE major lessons to take away. Here are my lessons from last year, if you are curious! 

This year felt like a lot. Being a combined grade primary-junior teacher (Grade 3/4) combined with starting off in a brand new school took a lot of energy. I felt capable when a lesson was successful and both grades were engaged. Some days I felt more tired.

But I showed up. Every day. And now it’s June, and I’m reflecting on what this year taught me.

1. Positive Self-Talk Matters… so everyone puts forth their best! 

Positive self-talk is about being kind to yourself and building resiliency through hard tasks. By modelling self-talk as an educator, it helps students experience growth and success, especially during times they feel stuck in the learning cycle.

2. STEM Matters… now more than ever!

Building identity, relations, and connection to STEM is important. It helps build resiliency, reasoning and critical thinking skills. By helping students see current diverse role models in STEM, students get the message that “we belong in these spaces.”

3. Handwriting Matters… to build neural pathways ,

In the times of technology, and as wonderful as it is… I reverted back to more pencil-paper tasks. I saw students slow down when they wrote by hand. They thought more. They remembered more (especially capitals and punctuation!). Of course technology is provided as support (or if it was outlined in an IEP).  But by pushing more handwriting tasks, students shared their own thinking more. Their notes, their reflections, their drafts – they approached the work differently. 

It wasn’t a perfect year but it was full of growth and moments where I surprised myself. And for me, that’s more than enough! 

What are your three lessons from this school year?