Category: General

The majority of my career has been in a middle school environment, where teaching letter combinations and sounds was not common. And so as a longtime elementary educator, I’m a little embarrassed to admit that for much of my career, I knew very little about teaching reading. My entire teacher’s college experience focused on the junior and intermediate grades, where reading instruction was not emphasized. My own son learned reading with very little work on my part, other than reading him stories or bringing him to the library.

With the publication of the Right to Read report (2022), it became clear that I could no longer avoid learning about the critical work so many primary and early years educators do every day. Getting started, however, was nothing short of intimidating. Foundational literacy concepts like phonemic awareness, graphemes, phonics, and digraphs were pretty much a foreign language to me. I had no idea where to begin – there seemed to be hundreds of books, resources, podcasts, and websites on the topic.

Thankfully, I have the knowledge and expertise of colleagues who are not only experienced in teaching reading, but teaching it in an engaging and culturally responsive way. Devon Clarke, a very talented PETL educator who is on our board’s Central Literacy Team, graciously invited me to attend the sessions he had developed with the literacy team for elementary educators.

Here are a few key takeaways I have gathered so far – I hope they resonate with anyone on a similar journey of learning this year!

We Can’t Forget The “Four Roles of the Literate Learner”

When I started learning about the Right to Read report, my impression was that educators would be teaching a lot of decoding skills in the classroom. The “Four Roles of the Literate Learner” – a concept introduced by Freebody and Luke back in the 1990s – still provides educators with a great model of literacy learning that particularly rings true in “science of reading” focused pedagogy. The idea that as readers, we are not only code-breakers, but meaning makers, text users, and text analyzers, is a good reminder that reading is a multifaceted process. This particularly important for English language learners, who not only need to decode English text but comprehend what they are learning to read as well.

Foundational Literacy Approaches are Not Just for Younger Elementary Students

Older elementary students also benefit from learning strong decoding skills: many may have gaps in their foundational reading skills that may have gone undetected. In one of the presentations, Devon shared a pilot project he worked on with middle school teachers. Together, they implemented the resource Catch Up Your Code with several grade 8 classes. Catch Up Your Code essentially focuses on helping older developing readers to recognize and connect the ways different letter combinations can make the same sounds, strengthening students’ reading and spelling skills.

The teachers gathered before and after data and other observations about the challenges and strengths of the resource. Overall, nearly every grade 8 student improved in an area of their decoding skills. Entering secondary school, these students will be much better prepared to succeed in their courses.

There is No Such thing as a “Be all, End all” Reading Resource

While resources like Catch Up to Code, or other reading programs can help students to make gains in their decoding skills, it is useful to keep in mind that no one resource is a “be all, end all” tool. In addition to resources that help students to decode words and sentences, students should also explore literature and texts that are culturally responsive and rich in meaning. This point was reinforced in the sessions I attended as the literacy team shared books that were identity-affirming and powerful in their approach to storytelling.

Ontario Educators are on a Learning Journey Together

Learning new and innovative approaches to teaching literacy takes time and teamwork. When it comes to learning about new resources and strategies, I find it most useful to hear the perspectives of educators that have actually used different literacy resources and can describe first hand what the successes and pitfalls are. Having colleagues to check my own understanding of the readings I am working on, and the expertise of experienced literacy teachers and speech language pathologists is also important on this journey of “reimagining” reading. This is why it is so important for boards to release teachers for professional learning: if literacy is a human right, then educators must have access to the time and resources it takes to make the vision of the “Right to Read” a reality.

One of the most important things I’ve learned as a teacher is to look for what is missing. From learning spaces. From lessons. From books and conversations. From perspectives. Because sometimes, what is missing is the difference between inclusion, and isolation. Between learning, and not learning. Between being safe, and not.

It’s not always easy to notice what is missing, though. While we may be keenly aware of absences that preclude our own participation in various spaces, we are not naturally aware of barriers that impact others. Of the things, that if they are missing, lock them out …

A microphone.

Text in visually-accessible format.

Enough time to read a passage in a workshop.

Sensory-friendly lights.

An educator or presenter or decision-maker with the same background and experiences we have.

The list goes on …

Yet as teachers, we don’t have any choice but to seek out what is missing, to find those barriers and do our best to eliminate them.  To create inclusive spaces so that every student can learn.

So how do we illuminate those insidious absences? We discussed one possible way this fall, at our union local’s Disabilities and Accessibility Issues meeting.

This is the third year I have been a part of this committee. And despite the fact that our days seem to be getting busier by the second in education, the only regret I feel is not joining it sooner in my career. It’s a small group of teachers, all from different schools across our board, all passionate about creating inclusive spaces for students and staff. We meet once a month at the union office and plan support workshops for teachers, information nights, and wellness events. It’s been a rewarding way to meet dedicated educators in our union that I never otherwise would have. This year we have a new goal: assisting a union-led audit of our local’s office and presentation space, to ensure it is accessible to all.

And so it was that a question occurred to me.

As we sat at the first meeting of the year, brainstorming ways our committee could assist with the audit, questions we could ask teachers who attended events at the local, one thought kept running through my mind that seemed to encapsulate all that we were trying to ask:

“Is there anything missing from this space that you need in order to have access to the same information, and the same opportunity to participate, as everyone else in the room?”

Instead of lengthy surveys and questionnaires, perhaps that simple question would be our starting point.

What’s missing for you?

Hmm.

What would it be like, if it were commonplace for everyone to ask that question? After every staff meeting. After every PD session. After every lesson.

How can we include you?

What are we missing?

So this year, we are asking that question. Anonymously of course. But at the end of every union local event at the HWETL office, teachers will have a chance to name what they need from our union’s spaces in order to be included.

Not a bad question to ponder in any profession, in any situation, in my humble opinion.

Outdoor education is an area of pedagogy I have evaded for much of my career. I always found the concept of outdoor learning to be way outside of my comfort zone: ropes courses, orienteering, food cycle games, and getting close and personal with flora and fauna are things I preferred to leave to the experts. In my mind, I had done my due diligence by organizing trips to the board nature centre once a year or welcoming a science and nature expert to speak to the classes I taught. On nice days, I might take students outside to read or work on a dance project, pick up trash as part of an environmental initiative, or take a neighbourhood walk down the local bike paths.

My reluctance to taking outdoor education learning really seriously largely stemmed from the idea that I didn’t consider myself to be, well, “outdoorsy.” When I thought about outdoor educators, or outdoorsy people in general, I had always pictured someone who went camping, cottaging, white water rafting, canoeing, or doing big hiking trips in places like Algonquin Park.

The idea I had of an “outdoor” person was quite mistakenly based on things I had seen in the media: adventurers clad in flannel and boots that could pitch a camp in minutes or walk for miles with a canoe on their head. Funny enough, I had probably acquired lots of these ideas working in a hiking store as a teenager, endlessly looking at product catalogues and selling customers on the promise of very expensive hiking boots. All of these ideas, I realize now, were based on Western norms focused on upholding specific stereotypes about who belongs in the outdoors: typically white, male, and able-bodied.

It took me many years to realize that I am, indeed, an outdoorsy person. But to get there, I really needed to challenge my own assumptions of what it means to enjoy and engage with nature. And as an educator, I needed to get a better perspective on what it actually means to learn outdoors.

Here are some of the lessons I needed to learn to unleash my inner outdoor educator.

You Don’t Need to Love Camping to Be “Outdoorsy”

I truly believe that camping is one of the most wonderful ways to enjoy nature. Sleeping under the stars, setting up tents and fires, practicing self sufficiency, and braving the elements are exciting and rich experiences.

My personal preference, however, is to avoid camping. I don’t like setting up tents, the smell of fire on my hair and clothes, or cooking creative meals. I went camping with friends once, and ended up staying awake all night in my car wanting to go home.

I am perfectly happy enjoying the forest without sleeping in it. If I never learn how to pitch a tent, I’m OK with that too! I’ll stick with my provincial park day pass and go home at night.

The Outdoors Aren’t Only in Wilderness and Rural Areas

For the longest time, I believed that to be outdoors I needed to be somewhere rural, or in a large park of some sort. It came to me that such an understanding was limited and narrow. Indeed, organizations like Nature Canada have pointed out that urban outdoor spaces are often perceived to be inferior to wilderness landscapes – and nothing could be further from the truth!

The outdoors are everywhere, in city streets and alleys and even strip malls. Buildings, sidewalks, storefronts, school tarmacs, fields, and playgrounds are all part of outdoor life. Greenery grows through concrete cracks, wind blows through buildings, and ecosystems thrive in drain ponds and even soccer fields. Flocks of geese halt traffic and vegetable gardens can thrive on sunny balconies.

Key takeaway: we can connect with the outdoors from wherever we are!

People that Live in Cities Are not Nature Deficient

I’ve noticed that when the topic of outdoor conversations comes up around work, there tends to be an assumption that many students “lack access” or are “deprived” of outdoor time. Nature centres are positioned as a unique opportunity for kids, particularly in urban centres, to finally engage with outdoor living.

While I agree that there are wilderness or rural areas in Ontario that many urban residents do not access regularly due to economic, linguistic and cultural barriers, it doesn’t mean that there is something deficient or “missing” from their lives.

Everyone Has a Connection with Nature, But Connection Can Happen in Different Ways

Everyone has a connection with nature, but how we connect can vary along lines of preference, culture, or personal history. I recall being tasked to organize a “Canadian” fall activity for my visiting mother in law from Eastern Europe. Immediately, I suggested apple picking: what could be more Canadian and fall-festive than picking fresh fruit outside at a local farm?

Aghast, my partner dismissed my apple-picking plan immediately. “My mom is not going to enjoy doing manual labour on her vacation.” Apple picking, it turns out, is not a recreational activity in all places.

Nature and the way we experience it is deeply entwined with our cultural beliefs and assumptions. We don’t often see diversity in Canadian outdoor narratives, but visit a place like Algonquin Park or Point Pelee and it’s not hard to see that there are so many groups and individuals of different cultural backgrounds and ages enjoying the outdoors in their own way. Some prefer to enjoy the outdoors gathering with family through a big, elaborate picnic on the beach; others spend days camping in the backcountry. Whether it is running, walking, sitting, socializing, creating art, hiking, or simply visiting a lookout point, we all have different ways of appreciating nature and the outdoors.

Embracing Your Outdoor Self

If you have ever felt like me – that being an outdoor educator is a role best left for others – remember that, as teachers, we are all in a position to teach outside. Being outdoors helps us to live in the moment a bit more, and enjoy the feeling of fresh air and sunshine. By embracing the many ways people, including students and their families, can experience the outdoors in Canada, we can develop a more inclusive approach to outdoor learning.

Interested in reading more about inclusion in the outdoors in Ontario? Take a look at the report “Race and Nature in the City,” by Jacqueline L. Scott and Ambika Tenneti.

In my last post, I wrote about rethinking my own relationship with the outdoors. Here are two amazing books that have truly inspired me to take teaching outside. I think they are worth a read for any aspiring or experienced outdoor educator!

Literacy Moves Outdoors, by Valerie Bang-Jensen

In a moment when mental health and wellness are top of mind, there are fewer things more powerful than spending time outdoors. There are days when I spend more time on a screen than I want to admit, and I am always amazed at how much better I feel after disconnecting and walking in fresh air for an hour. With kids using tools like Brightspace or Google classroom to access resources routinely, it is important to bring learning outdoors as much as possible to counterbalance the screen time.

The question that remains is how: how do we take outdoor learning beyond exploring, being in an outdoor classroom, or focusing solely on science-related subjects? Valerie Bang-Jensen shares her solutions in her 2023 book, Literacy Moves Outdoors.

For me, Literacy Moves Outdoors was a refreshing read after a year of professional learning about reading instruction and phonemic awareness. Bang-Jensen’s resource is all about how educators can take literacy learning: vocabulary building, decoding, storytelling, and more into outdoor spaces like school yards and gardens. And you don’t need to be in a nature reserve or field centre!

For example, she explains how hopscotch can be used as Elkonin boxes, the ins and outs of creating a story walk using picture books and student created texts, and how signs might be used to help students to develop questions. As a teacher of English learners, I could visualize how all of these activities might be used to build vocabulary and literacy skills, even for emergent learners.

Literacy Moves Outdoors is extremely practical for teachers and a pleasure to read or listen to on audiobook. Unlike a lot of of other educator books, there is less focus on the theoretical underpinnings of the pedagogy, and more on actual activities educators can do with relative ease. In a school context where the mental health and well-being of students is an increasing priority, Bang-Jensen delivers a book that will get educators excited about taking students outdoors.

Dear Street, by Lindsay Zier-Vogel

The last few years have been tough on cities. In my social media scrolls, it is rare that I come across a post on Toronto without dozens of users either commenting negatively on the city or broadcasting how happy they are that they left. As a longtime resident of Toronto, I’m always surprised at the online vitriol: I think it’s a great place to live and yes, has problems just like anywhere else.

When I came across Zier-Vogel’s book on one of my Instagram scrolls, I was immediately drawn in. Here was a picture book that was both a story about writing, gratitude, and being in love with the city or place you live in. The story is about a child named Alice who hears the usual complaints about the city and community: “too crowded”, or “too warm!”

Alice responds by writing “love letters” to her city, leaving her notes on park benches, piles of leaves, and other places they can be found by her neighbours, future friends, and fellow community members. “Dear Park,” she writes, “You are the perfect place to picnic, especially in the summer.” Her notes put a smile on people’s faces, and remind us all to be thankful for the beauty in our everyday surroundings.

What I love about this book as an educator is how it centres the urban outdoors and the power of gratitude. The book is gorgeously illustrated with the colours of passing seasons. Diverse characters spring to life on every page. Perhaps most importantly, Zier-Vogel connects the acts of writing and reading to outdoor spaces, creating a wonderful prompt to get students of all ages penning a love letter to their environment. I could immediately see the book as part of a lesson for language arts and social studies.

Both Literacy Moves Outdoors and Dear Street are excellent additions to your school’s library. They will not fail to inspire you to take learning outdoors!

My career as an occasional teacher has just begun and it certainly is rewarding. I like being able to choose my workdays and make time for other activities. These are the benefits of working after retirement. Being a supply teacher has its challenges though so let’s look at some of the ways to have a safe and successful day as a new OT.

If I am new to the school, I usually give myself enough time to tour the school and property. It’s important to find the washroom, office, SERT room, photocopier, gym and library.  I like to borrow a book to read aloud. I’m looking for opportunities to build relationships quickly and I have a knack for silly voices so if I read a Robert Munsch book or Elephant and Piggie I can win most of the younger students over that way.  A joke book or trivia book is a handy tool for older students.

Safety has to be the priority so it’s very important to review any safety plans relevant to my day. This applies not only to students in my class but also any students I may encounter during my lunch or recess supervision. I ask myself these questions as I read the safety plan:

1. What are the steps to take if the student is refusing to listen or do work?
2. Is there a calming space in the classroom or in another room? If so, what are the routines? Who is allowed to use it and when?
3. What is the protocol if the student displays behaviour that could injure themselves or others?
4. Are support staff working with this student? How can they be contacted if they are not in the room? Who is the back-up staff member?
5. Are there verbal or visual cues to help this student get on track? 
6. Are there helpful routines for transitions such as recess, eating time, or gym.
7. What will happen in the event of a fire drill or lockdown practice?
8. Are there preferred activities or leadership roles to involve the student?
9. Are there other staff members nearby who have a good rapport with the student when their teacher is absent?
10. If use of technology is in the plan, what are the expectations?

As hard as it might be, if I’m in a new place I try to connect with other staff members. Building relationships with colleagues helps me when I have questions and need assistance.  Many other staff members have been in the occasional role and have sympathy for difficult situations that may arise. 

Beyond the safety plan, there are other tips and tricks to having a joyful day as an OT.  More ideas to come in part 2!

 

As I begin my second year blogging for Heart and Art, I find myself being carried along by the wonderfully-frenetic pace of the fall. Although I have been a teacher for many years now, the speed at which September flies by always manages to surprise me … after a whirlwind of welcoming new families, getting students settled, and creating first language profiles for classes, October is nearly upon us!

New students and new languages have once again added vibrancy to our learning communities. It has been nothing short of joyful to see students using first languages to communicate with each other, to negotiate lessons and learning materials, to express themselves and their knowledge. 

In one of my final blog posts last year, Gardens in June, I talked a little about this kind of vibrancy … the end result of centering students’ linguistic repertoires, celebrating students for all that they are and, from those essential foundations, seeing  student growth.

I also talked a bit about a nearby community garden … 

As I mentioned in that post, I always like looking at that garden as I pass by. And last June as I drove away from the school, I approached that familiar intersection where the garden sits and took one final look. The leaves and plants had gained ground, stretching over the soil in green clumps. I knew something interesting was sure to be growing, but couldn’t yet tell what.

Over the summer the garden slipped from my thoughts completely. I did not think of it again until a couple of weeks ago, as I made my way to the school for my first visit of the new school year. Pre-occupied with to-do lists and deadlines, I rounded the corner and saw a flash of brilliant yellow, nearly a block away.

A row of towering sunflowers greeted me as I approached the intersection. It was a perfect image, really. Standing at attention, strong and sturdy, these uniquely beautiful plants were what had taken root from those tiny beginnings. Now they stretched to the sky, golden orbs mirroring the countenance and motion of the sun.

This year I am looking forward to new growth and new adventures … the language curriculum and what it means for multilingual language learners, finding ways to centre and affirm all students’ languages and identities, and creating safe spaces where everyone feels welcome. 

Dedicated educators always rise to the challenges of any given year, giving their best for students no matter the circumstances. This year will be no different. And through it all, as we tirelessly support student belonging and growth, I’m going to keep the hopeful image of those sunflowers close. 

Something I’ve been thinking a lot about in my Radical Dreaming Year, is the notion of Student of the Month. In my years of teaching, we’ve always had some kind of monthly assembly or recognition where the Student of the Month is presented an award. In my last grade six class, one of the students told me that he had gotten the responsibility award every September since junior kindergarten. “Eight years running,” he joked. By the time he graduated he had a full decade of September Responsibility Award Certificates!

For a long while, the student of the month criteria had been pre-determined by someone unknown to the school community who felt children should be recognized for things like responsibility, courage, trustworthiness, etc. These character traits were displayed on a beautiful banner as the ones demonstrated by exemplary students.

I’ve also been in places where criteria has been based on academic achievement. There was a little more flexible thinking here, in that it allowed some space for discussion amongst educators about what achievement means to us. It could be the highest mark, it could be the most effort, it could be taking risks, or something else entirely.

In my last school, our staff was beginning a journey about rethinking student of the month recognition. We wanted it to be authentic and important for students to feel that the assemblies and gatherings were community building, a place to celebrate one another, and perhaps learn and share with the school. Classes would share what they were learning about and perhaps a small slide deck featuring some work or students speaking at the microphone. I think this was the most authentic and interesting of all the assembly styles!

As I think about what Radical Dreaming means to me this year, I’m wondering if I missed the opportunity to build something with students and community in the school. Imagine if I asked the students, what do you think our monthly assemblies should look like? Perhaps they would only come up with some of their past experiences (after all, that’s where my mind goes), but maybe we could dream about other possibilities, like learning opportunities, like an art show, or a guest speaker, or something else entirely! At my last school, the entire school community would sing the school song together at every assembly, led by teachers, and it was incredible!

I wonder what parents might like to let us know about assemblies. Parents, who are able, will attend gatherings and it’s a great time to be part of the school community with their children. We want them to attend and build partnerships with us. What do they think is important to recognize? What might they like to see happening at assemblies and gatherings?

I think about my own children. Some of them received awards annually – but some of them did not. How do they view themselves and their abilities in school? How does that influence what they think their teachers see and feel about them? What would they like to see happening? Could we find a way for every child to participate or be recognized? It’s not about “everybody gets a medal”; it’s about seeing something good in every child at school so they feel like they belong and are seen.

Radical dreaming takes time and community. I know that in the meanwhile the traditions may still be in place while we start to think about our beliefs, build alliances and trust with students and families, but we can work together to build something new. It may look several different ways before we find something we love – and it may feel overwhelming, so we take it slow and steady. Building community is a process and it’s in the process that we build meaningful relationships.