Making a Difference Through Education

November 30, 2020November 30, 2020 Will Gourley agency, Challenging Topics, Equity, General, Making a Difference Through Education, Social Justice, Student wellbeing, Wellbeing

About those indoor shoes

Winter’s coming and as I share this on the eve of December and our possible first snow day of the 20-21 school year, the timing is intentional.

Recently, I had a moment of clarity while greeting students at the door of my classroom. It started out simply enough as they returned after a snowy midday recess. Amid our usual pleasantries it happened – a simple and often overlooked aspect of privilege kicked me in the thoughts as I welcomed students back inside. Although, there was nothing out of the ordinary on this particular day, all I could think about, in that moment, was indoor shoes.

You know, that 2nd pair of shoes students are expected to bring from home, that stay at school, so they can change in and out of for recess and indoor activities. The ones that every student is told they are supposed to have. The same shoes that can be found classrooms away from their owners’ personal effects after being dribbled down the hallways soccer style by budding Christine Sinclairs and Alphonso Davies’. Those indoor shoes.

Although an extra pair of shoes might be a small issue for many of us, I wonder whether asking students to have a dedicated pair of shoes to change into for inside school exagerates the socio-economic divisions that are obvious in many of our communities. After nearly 2000 days in the classroom, I am only seeing the ability to bring a second pair of shoes as an indicator of privilege, and that got me thinking about equity.

So, I’ll ask. Do you think that requiring/expecting students to have a 2nd pair of indoor shoes is unfair to those who are unable? Have schools become too demanding to expect this considering that many families are living pay check to paycheck? How are educators working to support their learners without isolating or alienating them by their supportive actions? Don’t even get me started about winter boots.

Clearly, there is a fine line to tread and I am wondering what’s changed, what needs to change in the way we were are doing things, and what else have I/you/we been missing?

What’s changed?

Nothing and it is not going to either as long as our socio-political and economic structures remain the same, we will always have students coming to school from places of unearned disadvantages being asked to act like they do not.

When we know that students are in need, how do we as a school community genuinely support them equitably? Is there a way that we can help while being discrete in our actions? One way might be by intentionally looking the other way while still making a note of things like a single pair of shoes, no boots, or a lack of weather protective garments rather than confronting their lack of them outright. How do we provide help without awkward and uncomfortable moments for a child?

What needs to change?

There will always be students with needs. Even though we might have enough, and it looks like they have enough. It is easy to be fooled into inaction by the belief that their enough is actually enough. When students are sent to school with a lunch to eat at school, it’s not obvious at first look whether it is the only meal they are having each day. It starts at relationships.

Knowing the learner is the key here. Without it, we risk allowing students to fall through the cracks. With recent restrictions to work due to the pandemic, it is becoming clearer that families are living in more precarious circumstances. That fancy car that drops students off at the kiss and ride each morning may about to be repossessed. The top dollar running shoes and brand name everything to wear seems incongruous to the jam sandwich or mac and cheese everyday that those same students are bringing for lunch. I am always hopeful that the child really likes the same lunch everyday, but am also watchful whether it is an indicator that something else is going on outside of school.

What else have I/you/we been missing?

Even though I have used indoor shoes as the soul of this post, they are not the sole indicators of unidentified needs or inequities. At-risk students are everywhere in our hallways. I am trying to pay attention to their actions, words, and body language. I never want to look back on this time and think that our students slipped through the cracks without our support. Conversations with other colleagues also help to fill in the blanks if something doesn’t seem right. It has become second nature to ask a student how their day is going. It is also important to include all of the community resources available to schools too.

If we pay attention to the little signs, we have an excellent chance to close some of the gaps for our students. It might be as simple as connecting families with access to community supports they may not have known about. This may be a simple as ensuring that there is English language assistance for them when it comes to access. For others, it might mean ensuring there is something extra to eat available for any who are experiencing food security issues. For others it might mean an invitation to help out in class during a particularly cold day at recess.

Whatever the circumstances, we can walk alongside students as they learn to fill the shoes that are waiting for them in the future.

Thanks to Tim Bradford and Nicolette Bryan @ACPS for their wisdom and candour while discussing this topic.

Honouring those who experienced war

Today, Wednesday, November 11, 2020, I spoke with my students about why Remembrance Day is a special day to honour those who lived through war.

I recognized that my words had little meaning as they were just words. We watched videos about people who had been in war; but these images had little context and meaning to my students who were sitting in a classroom in 2020.

I grasped that, in order to put Remembrance Day into context, my students needed to hear real stories about real people.

Fortunately, there are many stories I can draw from, in my own family history. Here are a few …

George Wilbert Henry Ebert (1920 -1943), navigator in the British Canadian Airforce from Cache Bay, Ontario (now North Bay).

Wilbert Ebert shot down in WWII

Will was my half uncle. He survived the death of his siblings and mother from Tuberculosis (TB). My grandfather, George Wesley Ebert, met my grandmother, Permilla Ann Coulthard (nurse) in the Muskoka Tuberculosis Sanitorium. George may have contracted TB from his work as a mining electrician or as it spread through the Cache Bay community. Will and George were the only family members remaining.

Will, a school teacher, was eager to explore the world and to learn how to fly. He became a pilot/navigator after only weeks of training and was sent to fight WWII. He was 22 years, 3 months, and 2 days old when his plane was shot down over Iceland. Will would never see his family again and would never have a family of his own. I never knew Will but I have read his letters to my grandmother and grandfather. He always sent his best wishes to my mother, who would have been around 5 years old at the time.

George Wesley Ebert (1897-1957), sniper in the British Canadian Army from Cache Bay, Ontario.

George was a sniper in WWI. My mother told me he loved the wilderness. George’s mother was aboriginal. He was a skilled hunter and fisherman. He was also a perfect person to take to the Canadian National Exhibition as he always won the very large prizes in the shooting galleries. While fighting in the trenches, he was gassed several times which caused significant damage to his lungs. His health never was the same after war and upon contracting TB, it only worsened. George was a troubled person who relied on alcohol to sooth his trauma. This would lead to his end in an early death.

George Ebert with fur

Lewis Henry Weston (1910-2008), British Navy, Lieutenant Commander born in Plymouth, Devon, England, last stationed in Northern Ireland. Lewis pictured below aged 12, 45, and 96.

Lewis Henry Weston 1910 052 (2)

Lewis joined the navy at the age of 12. This was not unusual as most children from working class families did not go to school past grade 6, instead working as an apprentice or in service. My grandfather had many tales to tell about his 30+ years in the navy. Lewis was a navy engineer meaning he built bridges and roads with his hands. He was also a navel diver, wearing very large metal helmets and heavy metal shoes while men pumped air into his helmet to keep him alive. Lewis stayed alive by his commitment to duty, as well as his wits and his faith in God. At the age of 45 years old, he retired from the British Navy and collected an indexed pension until the age of 98.

While Lewis was away at war, my grandmother, Iris Doreen Turpin Lawrence Weston, was in London, England during the German bombing raids. At the time, my uncle was at boarding school in the countryside. Iris and my father, David John Weston, sought safety every night in the London Underground (i.e. subway). My father shared stories of the terror he and my grandmother experienced as bombs fell every night, destroying the City of London. Even though my father never went to war, I believe that David never got over the terror he experienced. Iris never talked about the war.

In sharing these stories with my students, their understanding of the impact and loss due to war was grounded in real stories about real people, my people.

I encourage teachers to share their own family’s stories. War needs context as this will bring a deeper meaning to the courage displayed and loss experienced. This will help our students understand and remember the terrible cost and loss of war.

Collaboratively Yours,

Deb Weston

October 8, 2020October 8, 2020 Deb Weston Advocacy for change, Anti-Racism, Black Lives Matter, Making a Difference Through Education, self reflection, White Backpack

Unpacking the Invisible White Backpack in a Time of Black Lives Matter

WHITE PRIVILEGE - Showing Up for Racial Justice - SURJ

In a time focusing on the impact of racial equality, Black Lives Matter advocacy is pushing for the human rights of all those who do not identify as White. As a person who identifies as White, I do not go through life with the same experiences as people who do not identify as White.

I grew up in a family with a White mother and a stepfather from an African country. His ancestry was East Asian, African, and European. He did not have light coloured skin. His hair was lightly curled and he had a European shaped nose. My half-sisters had different skin colours and different hair. One sister had lighter skin “passing as White” with reddish hair and blue eyes. The other sister had darker skin looking very East Asian with dark brown eyes and very curly dark hair. In school, my sisters were told they could not be full sisters as they “were not the same colour.”

I did not start noticing the differences in my family’s skin colours until my grade 7 friend (who was Black) pointed it out. She came to my door one day and told me my stepfather was “Black.” I realized that she was right in the sense that he had dark skin and did not “look White.”

My awareness of skin colour did not change my experiences in my life journey as I accepted people for who they were and how they looked. I never considered that the colour of one’s skin could highly influence their life’s experience. I was colour blind.

My view of the world changed when I started my PhD studies in equity and inclusion. We spent over a week discussing issues around race, gender, background, and privilege. At this point, I was introduced to the idea of the Invisible Backpack I had carried around my entire life. As a person who looks White, I had been handed many privileges that those who don’t look White do not have.

This blew my mind. I never realized how being White gave me so much privilege. As I started unpacking this privilege, I saw many inequities in society and commerce as so many people were excluded due to their colour. My colour blindness evaporated. As an educator, inclusion is very important to me. But when I looked through all the teacher materials and books I used I only noted people that looked like me … they were all White.

Shaken by my revelation, I spoke to my friend about what I had learned. She stated that “colour blindness is a purposeful evasion as it does not honour people who do not pass as White.” She further went on to state that “as a Black Woman, I have to deal with the lack of privilege that comes with the colour of my skin.” As a well-educated Black woman, she had experienced being undermined by those who were White. Her ideas and comments were regularly questioned in her career and social settings. She told me she regularly experienced having her comments dismissed in social settings while her White husband’s were noted.

My husband is third generation Japanese Canadian. He is often asked where he is from and even though he is aware of what people really want to know, he launches into the “Where are you from” game. There’s a typical pattern to the conversation. When asked “Where are you from?”, he usually responds with “Oakville, Ontario.” The person usually follows with “Where were you born?” and his response is “Oakville, Ontario.” Then the person typically asks, “Where were your parents born?” in which he responds “Vancouver, BC.” At this point, frustration sets in and he is again asked “Where were your grandparents born?” The person finally gets the answer they were looking for, “Japan.” The person can now categorize him as of Japanese descent and not Chinese.

I spoke to my husband about my revelations from learning about the White Backpack. He told me he was always one of the only non-White people in school and at work. He knows that White people have more privilege and “it has always been that way.” He did mention that when we are out as a couple, we regularly receive glances of disapproval as an Asian man with a White woman. I’ve noted that the further away from the city we get, the more “looks” we experience.

The process of uncovering my White privilege has been ongoing. I check myself to make sure I am not precipitating my privilege over those without privilege due to the colour of their skin.

Below is a seminar developed in my studies on White privilege. I found it unpacked my own privilege and the experiences of others who may not identify as White.

On August 28th, 1963, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr, PhD stated “I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the colour of their skin, but by the content of their character”. I was a year old when he spoke these words. Dr. King dreamed of racial equity and inclusion. It is my hope that I will live to see this dream in its true form.

Collaboratively Yours,

Deborah Weston, PhD

Activities to discuss colour-blindness and the White Backpack.

1. Colour-blindness (5 minutes)

How does colour-blindness affect schools? Read & Reflect In groups of 5, people to discuss issues around colour blindness in schools.

“Color-blindness does not deny the existence of race, but the claim that race is responsible for alleged injustices that reproduce group inequalities, privilege Whites, and negatively impact on economic mobility, the possession of social resources and the acquisition of political power. Put differently, inherent in the logic of color-blindness is the central assumption that race has no valence as a marker of identity or power when factored into the social vocabulary of everyday life and the capacity for exercising individual and social agency.” (Giroux, 2005, pp. 66-67)

2. Daily effects of white privilege as per Peggy McIntosh, 1988 (10 minutes)

“I am never asked to speak for all the people of my racial group.”

Play segment of Freedom Writers movie showing the above in a classroom.

Hand out one or two statements to each person. Have people discuss these statements in their group to uncover their privilege.

I can if I wish arrange to be in the company of people of my race most of the time.
I can avoid spending time with people whom I was trained to mistrust and who have learned to mistrust my kind or me.
If I should need to move, I can be pretty sure of renting or purchasing housing in an area which I can afford and in which I would want to live.
I can be pretty sure that my neighbours in such a location will be neutral or pleasant to me.
I can go shopping alone most of the time, pretty well assured that I will not be followed or harassed.
I can turn on the television or open to the front page of the paper and see people of my race widely represented.
When I am told about our national heritage or about “civilization,” I am shown that people of my colour made it what it is.
I can be sure that my children will be given curricular materials that testify to the existence of their race.
If I want to, I can be pretty sure of finding a publisher for this piece on white privilege.
I can be pretty sure of having my voice heard in a group in which I am the only member of my race.
I can be casual about whether or not to listen to another person’s voice in a group in which s/he is the only member of his/her race.
I can go into a music shop and count on finding the music of my race represented, into a supermarket and find the staple foods which fit with my cultural traditions, into a hairdresser’s shop and find someone who can cut my hair.
Whether I use checks, credit cards or cash, I can count on my skin colour not to work against the appearance of financial reliability.
I can arrange to protect my children most of the time from people who might not like them.
I do not have to educate my children to be aware of systemic racism for their own daily physical protection.
I can be pretty sure that my children’s teachers and employers will tolerate them if they fit school and workplace norms; my chief worries about them do not concern others’ attitudes toward their race.
I can talk with my mouth full and not have people put this down to my colour.
I can swear, or dress in second hand clothes, or not answer letters, without having people attribute these choices to the bad morals, the poverty or the illiteracy of my race.
I can speak in public to a powerful male group without putting my race on trial.
I can do well in a challenging situation without being called a credit to my race.
I am never asked to speak for all the people of my racial group.
I can remain oblivious of the language and customs of persons of colour who constitute the world’s majority without feeling in my culture any penalty for such oblivion.
I can criticize our government and talk about how much I fear its policies and behaviour without being seen as a cultural outsider.
I can be pretty sure that if I ask to talk to the “person in charge”, I will be facing a person of my race.
If a traffic cop pulls me over or if the Revenue Canada [IRS] audits my tax return, I can be sure I haven’t been singled out because of my race.
I can easily buy posters, post-cards, picture books, greeting cards, dolls, toys and children’s magazines featuring people of my race.
I can go home from most meetings of organizations I belong to feeling somewhat tied in, rather than isolated, out-of-place, outnumbered, unheard, held at a distance or feared.
I can be pretty sure that an argument with a colleague of another race is more likely to jeopardize her/his chances for advancement than to jeopardize mine.
I can be pretty sure that if I argue for the promotion of a person of another race, or a program centering on race, this is not likely to cost me heavily within my present setting, even if my colleagues disagree with me.
If I declare there is a racial issue at hand, or there isn’t a racial issue at hand, my race will lend me more credibility for either position than a person of colour will have.
I can choose to ignore developments in minority writing and minority activist programs, or disparage them, or learn from them, but in any case, I can find ways to be more or less protected from negative consequences of any of these choices.
My culture gives me little fear about ignoring the perspectives and powers of people of other races.
I am not made acutely aware that my shape, bearing or body odour will be taken as a reflection on my race.
I can worry about racism without being seen as self-interested or self-seeking.
I can take a job with an affirmative action employer without having my co-workers on the job suspect that I got it because of my race.
If my day, week or year is going badly, I need not ask of each negative episode or situation whether it had racial overtones.
I can be pretty sure of finding people who would be willing to talk with me and advise me about my next steps, professionally.
I can think over many options, social, political, imaginative or professional, without asking whether a person of my race would be accepted or allowed to do what I want to do.
I can be late to a meeting without having the lateness reflect on my race.
I can choose public accommodation without fearing that people of my race cannot get in or will be mistreated in the places I have chosen.
I can be sure that if I need legal or medical help, my race will not work against me.
I can arrange my activities so that I will never have to experience feelings of rejection owing to my race.
If I have low credibility as a leader I can be sure that my race is not the problem.
I can easily find academic courses and institutions which give attention only to people of my race.
I can expect figurative language and imagery in all of the arts to testify to experiences of my race.
I can chose blemish cover or bandages in “flesh” colour and have them more or less match my skin.
I can travel alone or with my spouse without expecting embarrassment or hostility in those who deal with us.
I have no difficulty finding neighbourhoods where people approve of our household.
My children are given texts and classes which implicitly support our kind of family unit and do not turn them against my choice of domestic partnership.
I will feel welcomed and “normal” in the usual walks of public life, institutional and social

The Invisible Backpack (15 minutes)

Ask people consider how they identify as people and outline their own privilege they carry in their lives.

The invisible backpack is the unacknowledged privilege that people carry due to their gender, language, religion, culture, race, social class, ethnic status, sexual orientation, physical ability, age, and geographic location. What is in your invisible backpack?

Tools for Educators

Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack by Peggy McIntosh

Racism 101: Definitions

What are my rights? Racism and the Law

Tools for Equity in the Classroom

Aboriginal Education Curriculum

Anti-Racism Workshop Manual for High Schools in Peterborough by Hassan Hassan

The Storytelling Project Curriculum: Learning About Race and Racism Through Storytelling and the Arts (US-based)

Speak! Radical Woman of Colour Media Collective CD

Anti-Racism Resource Kit

“Canada’s Creeping Economic Apartheid” by Grace-Edward Galabuzi (2001)

Teaching Human Rights in Ontario

References

Giroux, H. (2005). Spectacles of race and pedagogies of denial: Anti-black racist pedagogy under the reign of neoliberalism. In L. Larumanchery, (Ed.), Engaging Equity: New perspectives on anti-racist education. Calgary, AB: Detselig.

McIntosh, P. (1988). White privilege and male privilege: A personal account of coming to see correspondences through work in women’s studies. Independent School, Winter, 1990. Downloaded from http://www.case.edu/president/aaction/UnpackingTheKnapsack.pd

October 1, 2020 Michelle Fenn 21st Century Learning, Anti-Racism, Building Inclusion, Challenging Topics, Curriculum Planning, First Nations, General, Inclusion, Indigenous Perspectives, Indigneous Ways of Knowing, Inspiring Students, Inspiring Teachers, Inuit, Making a Difference Through Education, Metis, Professional Judgement, Professional Learning and Growth, Questioning, self reflection, social emotional learning, Social Justice, Truth and Reconciliation

Engaging with Indigenous Knowledge as a Non-Indigenous Educator

Over my teaching career I have been fortunate to teach in schools with high populations of Indigenous students and to learn from the knowledge keepers and elders in the communities that our schools served. Admittedly, I haven’t always said or done the right things but I have learned from those mistakes. As a non-Indigenous educator, I know that I will continuously be on a professional and personal learning journey. I acknowledge that it is my responsibility to do this learning. There are resources that I have used along the way and I hope that by drawing attention to the following resources, I can assist others in their learning journey.

In order to avoid cultural appropriation, to honour and respect Indigenous culture and history as a non-Indigenous teacher, it is important to have the appropriate resources. We can’t avoid teaching about residential schools because we don’t feel comfortable. It is a part of the Ontario Curriculum. It isn’t just about “history” either. Current events draw attention to the pervasive issues faced by Indigenous peoples. These are teachable moments that are authentic and relevant to students. Students will be asking questions and forming opinions. As educators we have a responsibility to assist students to find accurate and culturally respectful information.

If you are looking for a place to begin in your learning journey, visit ETFO’s First Nations, Métis and Inuit Education website. It is filled with cultural protocols, resources and Ministry Documents. It is a treasure trove of information on treaties, land acknowledgements and avoiding cultural appropriation. Throughout the literature are hyperlinks for explanations of concepts and lexicon. Through ShopETFO you can purchase the FNMI Engaging Learners Through Play resource created for elementary educators which provides play based activities that engage all students.

A quick resource can be found on code.on.ca (The Council of Ontario Drama and Dance Educators). This resource provides a quick chart of protocols on what to do, what to avoid, why to avoid and what to try in order to bring learning about Indigenous culture and history into your classroom. This document also provides links to videos about Indigenous Arts Protocols, and a quick reference guide for what to think about before engaging with Indigenous Knowledge.

The website helpingourmotherearth.com is filled with tools and resources for educators including videos of Indigenous Knowledge Keepers telling their stories. There are free educational resource kits with lesson plans for primary, junior and intermediate students. In addition, you could sign up for professional learning or a workshop on the site.

Like me, you might make mistakes. However, my Indigenous educator friends have coached me that the worst mistake that non-Indigenous educators can make is to do nothing. I hope that highlighting these resources will help you along your professional learning journey.

September 30, 2020 Will Gourley Building Inclusion, Challenging Topics, General, Inuit, Making a Difference Through Education, Resources, Truth and Reconciliation

We didn’t “celebrate” Orange Shirt Day

This tweet hit me square in the brain. It was neither confrontational nor rude. It was simply a sublimely and sage sentence that stuck. I said it over and over again while researching, reading, and reflecting while preparing to teach about Residential Schools on September 30th.

“We don’t “celebrate” #OrangeShirtDay.” A simple reminder to all educators and learners.

So before we started our learning today, I told my 2 grade 4/5 English classes that “this was not a celebration.” Today was meant for reflection.

I did compliment them on their numerous orange shirts, and then we were off. The first question was “Why are we wearing these shirts today?” The responses were varied and honest. One student shared how a little girl had her orange shirt taken from her. Another few recalled bits of what they had learned last year, while others seemed like this was all new to them. We went from there?

My next question was, “Have you ever heard of residential schools?” followed by, “What do you know about them?” These two questions led to some solid conversation around the institution of school as we know it compared to the residential schools where First Nations, Metis and Inuit students were forced to attend. I shared about the living conditions, the daily routines, and the terrible food. I added that they could only speak English and would be punished when they didn’t or for a litany of other things for that matter. I wanted to guide students to the understanding that something was wrong with residential schools. They got it.

I could see their eyes and minds opening after explaining how the children were scooped up and taken away for 300 days at a time, far from home, and separated from the only family they knew. Students also learned that the RCMP would arrest families who resisted. And then the question I was hoping for;
“Why were kids taken to residential schools?” Why would they do this?

This became a pivotal point because it led us to a discussion about who “they” were? Putting the brakes on for a moment, I changed they to “colonizers”. The phrase European settlers came up too since we were talking about it. This led to the point where students found out that the government was also part of the “colonizers(they)”, and that their plans included wiping out First Nations, Metis, and Inuit culture through laws and enforcement of racist colonizer policies. The word discrimination came next, followed by a call of racism.

We talked and listened a lot. I shared some connections about how the government tried to label all First Nations as uncivilized savages in order to justify its desire to separate them from their land, their culture, and their dignity.

We talked about the importance of hearing the truth, and that there was more to learn. We promised to continue beyond Orange Shirt Day, and we sat quiet watching this video without sound and then with sound. https://www.nfb.ca/playlists/orange-shirt-day-edu/playback/#2 It was a powerful moment for students to see the images life in a residential school and then to reflect on why we were learning about it.

There were no tacky culturally appropriated mis-interpretations. Orange Shirt Day will not become a seasonal event like Halloween or Valentine’s Day in our schools. We will remember and continue exploring the truth about the legislated genocide attempted by the Canadian government on First Nations, Metis, and Inuit. We will also continue to examine how we continue to benefit from those inhuman actions to this day.

Today was not a day of celebration. September 30th was a day to listen, to become informed, and to reflect on the way that Canada has mistreated the First Nations, Metis and Inuit. We didn’t “celebrate” Orange Shirt Day. We inquired about it. We wrestled with it. We saw residential schools for the terrible places that they were to so many people. We sought to know more of its truth. We wore orange to respectfully remember.

Additional resources:

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1PlV8jUd2WtxcxrTHJK_HtZimP2Usng9k/view

September 28, 2020October 9, 2020 Will Gourley Challenging Topics, Class Size Matters, Classroom Management, COVID19, General, Making a Difference Through Education, Mental Health, Start of the year, Teacher Working Conditions

We’re back and it feels…

…like a weird batch of emotions being mixed up in my head everyday.

I use the word “weird” here as an amalgam of thoughts in order to come to grips with a whole whack of feelings. For now, let’s discuss 4 of the unique states of mind which I have been experiencing. They can be captured by the acronym C.A.G.E – confusion, anger, grief, elation.

Confusion

When we said our goodbyes in late June, we went home not knowing what was to come. How could we, no one did? It was a true test of the resilience of our profession as we transitioned from our physical spaces and into the virtual ones. It was emergency distance learning 101 for us all. Nobody knew how long it would go on, or how the students would respond. I recall the incredible stress of having to convert an old table and chair into a workstation at my house, the physiotherapy that came afterwards from my less than ergonomic set-up, and the (a)synchronous instructional awkwardness.

SO, after completing the balance of the academic year online and 3+ weeks of virtual summer school, I was really ready to be back in a classroom. In fact, I was elated at the possibility because things were proceeding as normally as they could as numbers declined and even though everything was up in the air when it came to education.

At least, our tentative assignments and schedules had been shared, there was more than an air of uncertainty that things were bound to change. Daily news reports, and social media posts had us all still holding our breath. What was school going to look like after “emergency distance learning”? What was the government’s plan? What were are school boards doing to be prepared for September?

Anger

There was no shortage of sound bites and stories to fill in the gaps, and for a fleeting moment in late July, it almost looked like the numbers were dropping enough as if the winds of possibility filled the air. Things began looking positive, yet it was still relatively quiet when it came to direction from our current government when it came to education except that they had experts working on it. Come mid-August, my bubble of hope burst with news of increasing numbers of cases. Any residual confusion had given way to anger and disappointment in this educator.

When school board emails began coming again in mid-August, the uncertainty around COVID 19 in our schools left us scratching our heads, as we did back in March. Little did we know what was about to drop on us all when school boards began surveying families about their choices for virtual or in class learning? But, that’s a topic for another post.

It was pretty easy to get angry although it didn’t help. Yelling at the TV, like Grampa Simpson, everytime a new daily increase of cases was announced or at how someone somewhere decided that a large social gathering was a good idea without taking precautions. Seeing newsers with the Minister of Education spinning government yarns about funding increases, which they had stripped, and safety of the students raised my ire too. No wonder I spent so many hours muttering to myself while cleaning the garage in August. “Good grief!”

Grief

I’d like this to be at the Charlie Brown level when he says, “Good Grief,” but it isn’t. One of the single most powerful emotions I have been battling with since March has been grieving the way that education is now divided into B.C. (before COVID-19) and C.E. (COVID-19 Era). I am sad for my students who missed out on perennial rights of passage such as grads, sports, extra-curriculars, and trips. I feel grief for the students who had to stay at home without contact with their friends other than through blue screens. I feel for the adults who struggled to support their children’s learning while juggling their own work. Acknowledging this feeling is my way of trying to move forward in a healthy way. I know there are many teachers who are feeling something similar.

Elation

After great reflection, I chose the classroom option to start this school year. Admittedly, this is a selfish choice, as I thrive in the classroom. My wife mentioned on several occasions that I needed to be back at school too. Although, I am not sure if that was for her sake or mine? Regardless of who benefited most by my return to the classroom, the fact is I was elated to be back, but it also came with a cost.

I now go for weekly COVID 19 Tests now that my bubble has expanded. With a 96 year old and a spouse with asthma in our home, we are proceeding with great caution. I am wearing a mask and frequently sanitizing my home, trips anywhere are only out of necessity, we are co-ordinating our schedules to reduce interactions so my father in-law does not become at greater risk, and any semblance of a social life or gatherings with extended family outside our residence bubble are now only on the camera roll of my smartphone. Yet, I think it is worth it.

A stronger feeling of unity amongst colleagues is happening. This turmoil has given rise to a new sense of telepresent professionalism(virtual staff/team meetings). Conversations are fewer, but more meaningful. Smiles are now made more expressive as they are shared behind our masks. All of these little things have made the return to school possible despite the heavy and shifting workload.

Prepping to teach this September has matched the level of confusion and effort of my very first years. It’s tough sledding right now and more changes are ahead as we have only been through a few weeks, but even though my return to the classroom this month has me staggering, I am encouraged and challenged, in a good way, to innovate and adapt.

My head is spinning most days as I grapple to sanitize, mask up, shield up, and emotionally ramp up to teach. Yet, I cannot help, but still find some happiness in all of this each day. And although you can’t see it through my mask, seeing students and staff in real life has become the biggest reason for the smile on my face each day at school despite the CAGE.

Stay strong. Thanks for reading.
Will

Note:

I had the bulk of this post ready to share our first week back, but could not do it. Something was telling me to bank my initial thoughts for a couple of weeks. Maybe I wanted to take some time for the dust to settle in order to make sense of it all. Sadly, it’s still pretty dusty around here, and based on the daily streams of educators sharing their ups and downs via social media, our collective ability to sift through the mess to make sense out of it, and let the dust settle has not occured. Yet.

September 24, 2020 Michelle Fenn 21st Century Learning, Celebrating Success, Challenging Topics, Constant Learning, Distance learning, e-learning, Engaging students with online learning, General, Inspiring Teachers, Making a Difference Through Education, Mental Health, Modern Learning, Resilience, Start of the year, Teacher Wellness, Teacher Working Conditions, Teaching online, Technology, Technology in school, Use of Technology, Using technology well, Wellness, wellness

Teachers Are Still Rocking It-

In March we were “Emergency Learning”. Now we are either teaching “virtually” or “socially distanced” in classrooms. We never thought we’d be teaching from behind a screen, learning all kinds of new technology tools, wearing masks and shields in front of students or removing all of the manipulatives from classrooms. We don’t know how long this will last. We don’t know if COVID will worsen. Educators aren’t used to not knowing things. Most teachers I know like schedules, routines, knowledge and thrive on consistency.

However, in the midst of the new rules, changes and all of the things that we “can’t” do-teachers are still rocking it. Throughout the summer I worked with a team of teachers providing virtual professional learning for KPRETFO. Hundreds of teachers used their summer holidays to learn about technology tools before they even knew whether they were going to be teaching virtually or not. They logged in at 10 am some days in order to learn and some teachers even came to all twenty sessions that were provided. Educators were dedicated to their professional learning all summer long.

At the end of August, I had the privilege of working with another fabulous team of educators who dedicated their time to providing a three day virtual conference for over 500 Ontario Educators with ECOO. These educators gave up their time to organize all kinds of schedules, sponsorship, presenters, keynotes and much more. In addition, over a hundred educators created and presented webinars for their colleagues. It truly FELT like a face-to-face educational technology conference took place in my living room!
There was a feeling of sharing, helping and collegiality. It was exhausting but my bucket was over flowing.

As our school year is now well under way teachers are reaching out to me for assistance at all times of the day and night through email because they are dedicated to their students and want to do their best. They are attending our evening “PD in your PJs” webinar sessions through our local union office to learn new tech tools at 7 pm on the week nights. The educators that I work with continually astound me with their dedication to professional learning.

I recently binge watched a Netflix series called “Away”. It is a futuristic fictional narrative about the first manned mission to Mars. The astronauts were in uncharted territory. They encountered problems along the way for which they had not trained. They endured mental and physical fatigue beyond anything they had ever felt before. They were innovative and creative in order to solve problems and reach their goal. While watching, I couldn’t help thinking about the parallels between this movie and the present state of education. We’ve heard that as we design these new learning structures and environments it is like we are building an airplane while flying. If I am going to stay true to the analogy here it is really more of a rocket ship! Educators are facing situations that they hadn’t even thought about in Faculty of Education Programs. They are encountering issues of teaching without many of the tools they normally use such as manipulatives, group work or technology. They are suffering mentally and physically. They are being innovative problem solvers around tools, equipment and technology. They are building the rocket ship while they are flying it and it is full of students.

Are educators stressed? For sure. Are their nerves frayed? You bet. Are they innovative, creative, dedicated and passionate about learning and teaching? Absolutely, without a doubt. Every educator is a front line worker, doing their best, making a difference, being brave beyond imagination and truly an inspiration.

June 30, 2020 Will Gourley Celebrating Success, Emergency Distance Learning, Engaging students with online learning, General, Making a Difference Through Education, Teacher Appreciation, Why unions matter, Year End Reflection

The cold coffee song

AKA – A parody on a familiar melody dedicated to teachers who finished as strong, after a tough year, if not stronger than the cold beverages in their cups.

Pt 1 (sung to the chorus of Escape, The Pina Colada Song by Rupert Holmes)

Yes I like drinking cold coffee!
And ignoring my chronic back pain.

I am out of the classroom,
At home by pandemic and fate

It’s really hard to be teaching,
sharing through cold blue screens.

It’s become easy to breakdown,
seeing students struggling each day.

Yup, it’s been rough one folx. We have come so far together and we all know that the journey is just beginning. When we look back to the start of the year in September 2019, no one would have believed that we would only be voting on a contract now. No one would have believed that we would fund our sub-cost-of-living raises by standing up for our rights on the picket lines for 6 days. And no one would have believed that we would not see our students in real life this year past March Break. Judging by what has transpired already, I am pretty sure that the future will be equally unbelievable.

Without a doubt, we’ve shared many highs and lows in our profession over the past 10 months. We have stood together. We have found ways to make a terrible situation nearly tolerable. We have worked from home in makeshift offices at the peril of our own physical detriment. We are all grieving the loss of milestones (graduations, trips, community, playdays, track, and farewells) for the classes of 2020. Yet, we still came up with innovative ways to honour them.

We have parented through a pandemic, and cared for our parents too. We have watched vulnerable communities further separated from opportunities. We witnessed the inequity that exists in presumptions around access and “emergency distance learning.” In all of this we have maintained the dignity and duty of care everyday. On occasion, we even remembered to look after ourselves.

And even though direction from the elected only spilled out like water from a kinked hose, we knew what to do because we knew our students. So when the messages changed it didn’t matter that they came out at the end of the day on a Friday after hours or at all. In the end, teachers knew how to do right by their students. This even meant going on treasure hunts to find marks to fill report cards using a very vague map to cover a number of broad areas.

For my liking, I would love to have scrapped the focus on any marks for this term, and worked within a pass/not yet model.

Pt 2 (sung to the chorus of Escape, The Pina Colada Song by Rupert Holmes)

I am not into health spas.
I won’t ride on busses or Go Trains.

I am not into incomplete reporting
though the data sets must be gained.

I don’t like marking work til midnight
or going without sunlight for days.

I have been teaching from my basement,
and there’s no chance of escape.

The deeds are done and we can look back on them knowing that each teacher poured their heart and soul into their artistry as educators. Like any good gallery, the masterpieces ranged in complexity and beauty regardless of the eyes of the beholder. I’ll leave you with the last chorus to sing however you’d like.

At the heart of education,
We’ll stop at nothing to create,

To make the best of bad situations,
and challenges so hard to relate.

Can’t wait until we’re back in the classroom,
To learn, laugh, and say remember when?

It’s the year that no one planned for,
and hope will never happen again.

Thank you for all of your support over the past year. Wishing you a safe and relaxing summer. Celebrating you all with a cup of something cool and refreshing after I finish this cold cup of coffee.

June 30, 2020July 1, 2020 Arianna Lambert Advocacy for change, Challenging Topics, Equity, Inclusion, Making a Difference Through Education, Mental Health, self reflection

Crazy Hair Day

Last month on Twitter, a Tweet about “Crazy Hair Day” sparked interesting conversations around words, hair, and spirit. A long-standing practice in schools has been “Spirit Days”. Centered around themes that are supposed to demonstrate school or community “spirit”, these days have been around for as long as I have been in education. As a child, I remembered these days as being about wanting to fit-in in a space where I didn’t. As an educator, I reflect on those feelings and consider these days not as “spirit” days but rather days when the disparity between who has and who has more is celebrated. Did you wear the right thing or style your hair in the right way? Great, you have “spirit”. I’ll circle back to why I have spirit in quotes here shortly. In this post, my goal is to ask you to reflect on these “Spirit Days” and to act. Now I know that might be asking a lot because there are many individuals who feel as though I’m taking the fun away from school and making something bigger of a small issue. I’ve heard it said. I would like to ask you to read further before ignoring my request.

Words

The original post above asks readers to consider the language of the day. As we open more avenues for conversations around mental health and well-being and to remove the stigma, using the word “crazy” in education shouldn’t happen. I’ve heard the word in halls and have asked students to describe what they mean and there have always been more appropriate terms to use. If students can do that, as educators and administrators, we too can follow suit and actually lead. Words have an impact. Consider what you are saying, what you actually mean, and say that.

Hair

Beyond the fact that the wording itself is problematic, hair has a different significance for different people. I initially wrote groups of people, but even within populations, there are differing beliefs or feelings. Now, I know that there are some looking for an education on this right now and that’s where I will ask you to do the work. This post is meant to get you to reflect and then act. Part of the work is to do the research, to come to your own understandings, and then to do better. I mentioned earlier that as a child, spirit days were about fitting in because I felt as though I didn’t. I was one of a few Black children in all of my elementary and secondary school experiences. As I recall, there were never more than a handful of students who looked like me in not just my grade, but in the entire school. Many of my peers were fascinated by my hair. In Grade 1, I remember being teased on end because my hair was cut into a very low afro. I tear up as I write because I remember the blue jacket that I wore and when I didn’t want to remove my hood at school because I knew that everyone would laugh, and they did. Throughout elementary, I adopted the nickname, “Sonic the Hedgehog” because when I curled my hair, it didn’t move, even when I ran. Even in my attempt to fit in, I was yet again made fun of because of my difference. I could go on about stories but this isn’t about me. It’s about the students in your classrooms and schools who might be able to tell similar stories and the common theme might be that they have no one standing up for them or if they do, it’s sometimes after the trauma, to help soften the blow.

Spirit

Earlier on, I put this in quotes because I’m interested in a serious definition of the word in this context. What does spirit actually mean? When I think of school or community spirit, I think of action for the betterment of said school or community. How does dressing up in a jersey or styling your hair in a certain way accomplish this? Oftentimes we ask students to show their spirit when in reality, their true spirit isn’t rewarded for showing up on a daily basis. What is this spirit we are after and why is that more important than students showing up in their authentic selves on a daily basis? When we think of education, what is spirit in education? How are we honouring that? Is it merely compliance with the day? Taking this further, our role isn’t social convenor but educator, what spirit do we bring to our education spaces? What are we telling students about what we value in terms of spirit?

Now I know that some might be upset that I’ve put it out there to consider getting rid of these days, but please consider the greater trauma being caused by what you deem to be “fun”. I’ve spoken about this in staff meetings and have been overlooked. I dread these days because often enough, I see a younger version of myself walking the yard or the halls, experiencing the same thing. Isn’t it time for us to stop?

June 25, 2020June 26, 2020 Will Gourley Celebrating Success, Emergency Distance Learning, General, Making a Difference Through Education, self reflection, Teaching online, Year End Reflection

6 Similes to describe how it felt to teach during COVID 19 Quarantine

Teaching during a quarantine was…

Like meaning with no I, N or G. It was just mean. There were times when it felt forced, and meaningless because I was trying to make sense out of how to do this when it seemed more about keeping students busy and less about how they were feeling.

Education during a pandemic was…

Like an infomercial. But wait, there’s more! More to do and definitely more to worry about. Our students went AWOL – They’d gone absent without learning because they couldn’t connect. Their worlds had been turned upside down, and the one place where they could count on from Monday to Friday had been shuttered and now they were shut out.

Learning for students during COVID 19 was…
Like making a pizza without a crust – there was nothing to hold all of the ingredients in place for students when life’s bigger problems consumed their ability to learn from home. Students needed their teachers to keep things together when things got tough and the class pizza, with all of its different toppings, got thrown into the oven.

Emergency distance learning was…
Like an ice cream cone with a hole in the bottom – the goodness melted away fast and ended up on your shirt. Either way what was good couldn’t last long and usually there was something to clean up afterwards. I saw my students trying to make the best out of this mess yet there always seemed to be a scoop of some new flavour that no one wanted being added to the problem of learning outside of the classroom.

Teaching from home during a shutdown felt…
Like performing a symphony where I had to write the score, conduct, play every instrument, and stack the chairs. There were so many little things that consumed the movements and moments of my day. It felt like I was simultaneously teaching a song to 25 individual performers all locked in their own rehearsal spaces.

Distance learning was…
Like running a marathon for the first time. You knew there was a finish line, but couldn’t remember how far you’d run or where you were going once you hit the wall. There came a point where fatigue set in and I began to doubt why I took this on in the first place? Some students hit the wall after the first day while others lasted until being told that the rest of their year at school was done. Even our strongest learners hit the wall at some point. Despite all of my training as a teacher, the toll that the marathon of teaching from home took on my mind and body was significant. I can only imagine how it affected our students.

I’m tired and a bit broken. The breath was stolen from my body when our students went home on March 13th. None of us imagined that we would be away for so long. I was allowed to visit my empty classroom 3 times since then and still hope that this has all been a bad dream. Walking down an empty hall in an empty school denied it’s life breath of students and their teachers was not how any of us would have wished this time in quarantine to be.

From the onset and onslaught of learning in quarantine we had to work together, to grow together, and to continue learning together. It took time, patience, and grace. Each moment required a willingness to work meaningfully, to seek out those who had gone AWOL, bake a crust under that pizza, put a marshmallow in that cone to stop the good stuff from dripping out, play music until our fingers ached, and get up the next day ready to run the race again.

The summer finish line has been crossed. We made it. Now where’s that pizza and ice cream?