Student wellbeing

October 27, 2021 Stephanie C Behaviour Management, Celebrating Success, Classroom Management, Diverse Learning Needs, Mindfulness, Student wellbeing

Doodles and Daydreams

As I walk up and down the aisles checking the students’ work, I will inevitably find someone whose side margins of their worksheet are filled with colourful drawings. When I first started teaching, I would have been annoyed at the lack of work being completed. Now, I know so much more like some students doodle for mindfulness, or because that is their signal that they need help but are hesitant to ask for assistance.

But of course, I also have a duty to ensure students understand their work. So, instead of admonishing them, I try to bring what they are doing into the current lesson:

“Wow, that’s a really nice dragon! Remember how we’re doing colours in French today? Do you think you could tell me the colours you chose in French on the side?”

“Cool robot! Hey, you know how we’re talking about rocks and minerals for Science? I wonder what metallic ores you might use for his body?”

Sometimes I read the stories in my Ontario College of Teachers magazine about Canadian celebrities and the teachers that have made a difference in their lives. My favourite that I shared with my students was the one on Olympic gold medalist Bruny Surin and how he was encouraged to try out for sports in high school from the coach when he was a shy newly landed immigrant.

I often wonder if I’ll influence someone enough that they’ll mention me in an interview someday. Then I worry that they’ll mention me, but as “that teacher that discouraged them and didn’t make them feel like they were good enough.”

I wasn’t really a doodler in school, but I was definitely a day dreamer. There were plenty of times that I probably fooled teachers into thinking that I was paying attention when in reality I was just facing forward running through a story or an episode of my make believe world in my head. I already understood a lot of the work, but this was my way of dealing with feelings and thinking what to do next with my learning.

I have plenty of students that have struggled with writing and math, but could run circles around me with their art skills. So yes, sometimes I sigh inwardly at a lack of completed assignments but more often than not, I marvel at the way they use drawing to capture their feelings and assist with their memory. That’s why I prefer to guide them to use their talents for where their creativity may take them.

Speaking of a doodler and a dreamer, I was reading a book this summer when one of the interview excerpts mentioned a young man who was caught by a teacher years ago making an elaborate storyboard with a Western battle. Instead of punishing him, she stated she could help him put his work on a giant mural and present it to the class-on the condition that he also got his work finished.

The young man was movie mogul George Lucas.

Probability wise, I’m not likely to have the next big Hollywood writer/director in one of my classes. But I’ve taught enough to know that my chances of of making a student’s day positive on how I react to their artistic expression are certainly more than 50/50.

May 29, 2021 Michelle Fenn 21st Century Learning, Before School Starts, Building Inclusion, Challenging Topics, Classroom Layouts, Classroom Management, Constant Learning, COVID19, Flexible Classroom, Inclusion, Inspiring Students, Inspiring Teachers, Learning About Your Students, Professional Learning and Growth, Resilience, Student Ownership, Student wellbeing, Students as Teachers, teacher efficacy, Teacher Wellness, transition, Wellbeing, wellness, Wellness, wellness

Educational Perfection

As we end another school year and look forward to summer vacation, I think back to my first years in education and what summer “vacation” looked like for me. July was spent taking additional qualification courses and most of August was spent prepping and planning. It wasn’t really much of a vacation. So why did I do it? Two reasons. I am passionate about learning and I am a (now recovering) perfectionist-especially as an educator.

I must have thought there was some kind of a prize for having the tidiest, prettiest and well organized classroom. I wanted my classroom to look like something out of the Scholar’s Choice catalogue. The custodians would be annoyed at having me in the school and I would wait anxiously for them to be finished waxing our hallway so that I could get in and set up my classroom. I needed everything to match. If I had baskets for items in the classroom they had to all be the same colour. It isn’t always easy to find 24 of the same basket at the Dollar Store. Before the students started in September I felt the need to have labels on all of their notebooks, duo tangs and I even labelled their pencils. I spent an inordinate amount of time trying to control the environment for my students. My classroom looked like a showroom on the first day of school and I would spend the next 194 days trying to maintain that standard. Our first printing practice lesson (because we still did that back then) was to practice writing “A place for everything and everything in it’s place.” When I think back now to all of the time and energy that I wasted not allowing learning to get messy I shake my head. It was exhausting.

After twenty plus years in education I’ve learned a few things about educational perfectionism and letting go of control in order to empower the learners in the classroom. When I was given a portable for a classroom that I wasn’t able to get into much before school started I panicked at first. I didn’t have space or time to create a showroom. I decided to give the design over to the grade 4-5 students. I still had labelled duo tangs and a place for each of them to put their things that was their space ready on the first day but the rest, we did together. It built community, it gave the students ownership and it gave me some of my summer back. If you’ve ever taught in a portable that has the coat racks inside, winter is a bit of a nightmare for an organizational freak but eventually I let it go. We still had a tidy classroom because their wasn’t enough space to be too messy but the organization of things didn’t stifle the learning. We learned how to paint in a portable without water using buckets and trips into the school. We brought lawn chairs to school at sat outside at reading time. I loved our little cabin in the woods.

As educators we have a lot of people that we are accountable to in our jobs. Students, families, administrators, our board and our communities are all stakeholders in what we do. The pressure to be perfect in our roles can be overwhelming and paralyzing. What educators do each day is literally driven by “overall and specific EXPECTATIONS”. It took time for me to realize that the expectations that I was putting on myself were much higher than those of anyone else. It took reflection to realize that perfectionism isn’t the badge of honour that I thought it once was and that it was making my life more difficult. I came to understand that it isn’t the room or the resources that make me a good educator. It is about the connections and relationships with my students and their families that matter. It is about embracing the Ms. Frizzle moments and rolling with it. If I’ve learned anything from COVID-19 it is that being flexible and letting go of what I cannot control are the keys to staying out of perfectionism. I plan on guarding my summer vacation as I would a medical specialist’s appointment but I’ll likely take a few professional resource books along to read in the waiting room.

April 16, 2021April 19, 2021 Michelle Fenn 21st Century Learning, Behaviour Management, Building Inclusion, Celebrating Success, Challenging Topics, Classroom Management, Constant Learning, COVID19, Distance learning, Equity, Inclusion, Inquiry, Inspiring Students, Inspiring Teachers, Making a Difference Through Education, Mental Health, Mindfulness, Modern Learning, Remote Learning, self reflection, social emotional learning, Student wellbeing, teacher efficacy, Teacher Wellness, Teaching online, Wellbeing, wellness, Wellness

“How can I help?”

The adage of “If you want something done right, do it yourself,” was ingrained in me at an early age. Until recently, I have always thought that being confident, capable and successful meant never asking for help. I used to think that asking for help meant that you were weak. I now think that asking for help is incredibly brave. My 17 year old son recently told me about a group chat with his workmates. Someone at work had sent an urgent message to the group asking how to do something while closing up the restaurant. Many of the coworkers poked fun at the lack of knowledge of the person seeking help. My son (brace yourself for this proud Mama Bear moment) texted that it was really brave of his co-worker to ask for help and provided the information that the coworker needed to close up for the night. I think that his act demonstrated wisdom an empathy far beyond his years.

Have you ever felt a little territorial or protective about your ideas or lessons in your classroom? I imagine everyone likes to be valued for their unique talents and abilities. In general, I don’t think anyone likes to be seen to be struggling and consequently, some teachers might choose to work in isolation. Perhaps it is fear. I’ve spoken to many colleagues who have identified as suffering from imposter syndrome. Perhaps those of us who have experienced imposter syndrome think that if anyone else got eyes on what we do every day that we would be judged and found to be lacking in some way. Often teachers will tell me that they don’t have time to share with their colleagues-there just isn’t enough time in the day to collaborate. With the busy pace of education, I know that I have absolutely felt that way. My experience has been that when I take the time to collaborate with others I in fact, have more time and consequently better programming. It is a concerted effort and takes a trusting relationship to co-plan and co-teach but when it works, it is amazing.

In my role as an instructional leadership consultant I am responsible for two portfolios; Innovation and Technology and the New Teacher Induction Program. At the beginning of the COVID pandemic as teachers were teaching virtually for the first time, some had never used things like Google apps, FlipGrid and Kahoot. I was doing my best to support teachers with tools for teaching online. Thankfully, I knew some other teachers that I could reach out to and ask for help. These teachers, close to the beginning of their careers, were using these tools in the classroom and were able to help design and present webinars to other more seasoned colleagues. As teachers, we often think that we need to have all of the answers for our students and with one another. I’ve heard it referred to as the “Sage on the Stage Syndrome.” We seem to feel that we need to stay ahead of everything, which is impossible. Education is changing more rapidly than ever. I learned so much from my colleagues over the months that we worked together as a team and even though it was stressful at times, it was also incredibly fun. I look back now on the powerful outreach our work had and the gratitude that was expressed by our colleagues and I am so glad that I got over myself and asked for help.

In the t.v. drama “New Amsterdam” whenever the new director of the hospital is introduced to someone, the first question that he asks is, “How can I help?” It happens in the first episode about twenty times. This was a BIG a-ha moment for me. What a powerful question! How often have we wanted our students to ask for help? How often have they refused when we have asked “Can I help you?”or “Do you need help?” Unfortunately, asking for help is still seen as a weakness by many people. However the question “How can I help?” turns it around so that the responsibility and focus is on the person offering assistance. It is more difficult for someone to just say “No.” to this question. It can help to create psychological safety in order to focus on what can be done to help rather than someone sitting in discomfort or shame because they won’t ask for help. Sometimes just asking can make all the difference to someone when they are feeling overwhelmed, even if they decline the offer. The four small words, “How can I help?” can make a powerful impact. Sometimes, asking for help is the bravest thing you can do.

February 28, 2021March 4, 2021 Shawna Rothgeb-Bird Challenging Topics, Equity, Gender, Gender stereotypes, LGBTQ2S, Student wellbeing

On Being a Queer Educator in Ontario Schools

If you read Part 1, you’ll know by now that my experience as a student sucked. By the time I went to teacher’s college, I had fully embraced my queerness. I had a reasonably good handle on my identity. As I took my first baby steps into the world of teaching, I had decided that I was going to do better for my students than any of my teachers did for me.

Oh, to have that same youthful optimism and fire.

After ten years, so much of it has been chipped away by constant reminders that the school system and almost everyone in it are still perpetuating the idea that there is a “default” and then there are aberrant identities that are outside of that norm.

Think about your experience as an educator and whether any of these moments have happened at your school:

Being asked to “balance” the distribution of boys and girls when creating class lists.
Playing “boys vs. girls” in Phys Ed.
Having a “boys team” and a “girls team” for intramurals.
Creating groups of desks to intentionally mix genders.
Having “boys” and “girls” washroom passes.
Splitting the class based on gender for health class.
Saying “boys and girls” to address your class.

Do those feel innocent to you? No big deal? Look, it’s okay if you have done these things and never thought twice about them. Most of us have. But we have to acknowledge that those types of small actions contribute to the sense that we have a specific set of expectations around what it means to be a “boy” or a “girl.” That we expect all students to even fit into that binary. We have to be better than this.

Students notice these things. Some of them are obvious, like the Phys Ed example, while others you may think are more “behind the scenes” like class lists, but students notice. And when students notice those things, they draw conclusions about what the Institution of Education thinks about who is attending their schools.

And then, there’s how educators approach students who don’t fit those expectations.

I can’t tell you how much it hurts every single time I hear these things:

They’re too young to know they’re trans.

They just want attention.

I think they’re lying.

The other kids won’t get it and will all want to use the all-gender washroom.

I have to inform their parents.

Fine, but I’m not going to change how I teach.

I can’t talk about this in class because parents will get upset.

I don’t know enough about this to teach any of it.

I don’t have time to do anything that isn’t in the curriculum.

Why do we need a neutral washroom if we don’t have any trans or NB students?

You think you’re commiserating with a colleague. You think you’re just expressing your frustration and stress with a colleague. What you’re doing, when you’re saying these things to a queer colleague, is often retraumatizing them. You’re reminding them of their otherness. You’re showing them that you consider their existence extracurricular and optional.

You’re showing not only your students but your colleagues, too, that you do not think their existence is worth the time to learn about, integrate into your teaching, and normalize.

But wait! There’s more!

Remember back in Part 1, when I talked about fear? And how it kept coming up at the PD day a few weeks back when we were discussing how to use a 2SLGBTQ+ resource in the classroom?

I want to talk about that fear.

When you say you’re scared of parent backlash, what exactly is it about that idea that scares you? What do you think will happen?

Will a parent post about you on social media?

Will a parent complain about you to the board?

Will a parent remove their child from your class?

Or are you scared that a parent will make an assumption that you are queer?

Are you scared that a parent will decide that you are unfit to teach their child?

Most importantly, why is it that you think that your fear is more important than your responsibility to your students to support them, validate them, see them, and show them a world where they are not something other and are, instead, just… normal?

Do you realize that your 2SLGBTQ+ colleagues and students have lived with fear their entire life? That we hesitate before putting our family photos up in our classrooms, the way that some of you do without thinking twice, because we are worried about the reaction?

And we notice, Reader, when you turn equity lessons into events instead of building it into your everyday teaching. We notice when you inform (let’s call it what it is: warn) families before discussing equity in the classroom. We notice when you give families the chance to opt their child out of lessons on equity.

As a queer parent, when I get a letter home “informing me” about an upcoming lesson where the class will be talking about a “challenging topic,” it signals to me that the educator and the school behind this letter consider this topic to be controversial. That there will be different points of view and that those have to be “respected.”

But my life is not a point of view. I have an absolute, inalienable, unassailable RIGHT to exist. 2SLGBTQ+ people are not a matter of debate, we are not an opinion – our existence is objectively right and we have an obligation, as educators, to promote and defend that existence just as fervently as we do all others.

When you leave space for debate, when you “respect all points of view” in your classroom, you’re telling your queer students and colleagues that you think it’s okay that some people believe that their existence is wrong.

And we notice that.

We notice when you refer to teaching about 2SLGBTQ+ as a challenging topic. Why is it challenging?

Does it make you uncomfortable? Examine that, because that’s some problematic nonsense right there.

Do you feel like you don’t know enough? Then educate yourself, just like you probably look up half of the Science curriculum every time you change grades. Or maybe that’s just me.

Are you scared of having to defend your teaching? Your board and union have both taken public stances in defense of 2SLGBTQ+ rights and they’re protected in the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms, so settle down.

Do you think you’re going to face a lot of questions from students that you may not know how to answer? Isn’t that… pretty much a daily experience in teaching, no matter what subject? Embrace learning WITH your students.

I’m glad that it’s becoming more commonplace to talk about 2SLGBTQ+ experiences, identities, and perspectives in class, but if you feel like you need to or even can warn your students’ families before discussing equity in the classroom, quite frankly, you aren’t talking about equity often enough.

Finally, I want you to know all the good things I notice, too.

I notice when you introduce yourself with your pronouns.

I notice when you don’t say “moms and dads” to your students.

I notice when you teach with books showing queer experiences – both as the lesson itself and without making the character’s queerness be THE POINT, because hey, we’re also just regular people doing regular things and it doesn’t all have to be about being queer.

I notice when you tell your students about the gender neutral washroom on their First Day of School tour.

I notice when you don’t say “boys and girls” to get your students’ attention.

I notice when you embrace inclusive intramural teams.

I notice when I can’t find any of the 2SLGBTQ+ picture books because they’re all out in colleagues’ classrooms being used.

I notice when I walk by your students and overhear them talking about what they’re learning in class.

I notice when students feel safe to explore their identity in your classroom.

I notice when students feel safe to come out in your classroom.

I notice when you don’t whisper “gay” like it’s a bad word.

I notice when you don’t wait for me to be the one to say, “This long standing practice is problematic and rooted in homophobia. Can we change it?”

There’s a long road ahead of us. When educators are more scared of community backlash than they are of harming their students, we have to call that out.

Your inaction is causing harm.

Your fear is causing harm.

Your students deserve better than that.

December 30, 2020December 30, 2020 Will Gourley Constant Learning, COVID19, Emergency Distance Learning, General, Indigneous Ways of Knowing, LGBTQ2S, Making a Difference Through Education, Mental Health, Mindfulness, Resilience, self reflection, Student wellbeing, Teacher Wellness, Truth and Reconciliation, Wellbeing, Year End Reflection

Hindsight is…

Please don’t make me finish the title until the last second has ticked off the clock. I may have developed a defensive outlook about this trip around the sun. While I know this Gregorian Calender measurement of time will soon be in the rearview mirror of our lives, it is still a battle avoiding the queasiness and wincing that come when I think about all we have been through in 2020. Can resolutions be far behind?

Dang! I just wrote 2020

My understanding, perhaps acceptance, of this year is coming into clearer focus. It has been an extraordinary year on so many levels, and thus a great opportunity for personal growth. It has also been an educational year because, dang, I learnt a lot.

Dang! I just wrote ‘dang’ again.

I also taught a lot, and despite it feeling like a roller coaster ride from hell along the way, it meant that there were many lessons for me as an educator in 2020 too. Which made me happy to find this quote below after thinking I made it up myself.

“If you are not learning, then you are not teaching.” Vernon L Smith*

A wise and gentle reminder that there was always something new to learn about ourselves, the students we teach, and the world around us during periods of unexpected loss, labour strife, professional uncertainty, and a global crisis. Smith’s words echoing loudly as I type. Here’s my version of it à la René Descartes.

I learn, therefore I am a teacher.

So here is what I learnt from hindsight/2020:

Take time to grieve and offer comfort first when students/families are hurting. The lessons can wait. It hurts to lose a student to senseless violence. Our school felt this very deeply last January.
Sometimes governments do not have the best interests of the population in their actions. Standing up to malfeasance and legislated tyranny is the right and a responsibility of all educators.
Mental health matters more than marks. Students/educators who struggle will not miraculously get better after a call to a helpline or a conversation with a social worker/psychologist. It is a process that takes time and patience before progress. I learned that there is much more to learn in this area to better support students, colleagues, and myself.
Remember that no matter how many times people tell you to take care of yourself first, there have to be reasonable boundaries and supports to make that happen. An encouraging message from admin, a Board Director’s email blast, or the Minister of Ed is not going to suffice. Set your boundaries. Do what you can do within them. Take time to be still. The work can and will wait.
Equity in schools needs to go way beyond a single day in the classroom, Orange/Pink/Purple shirt days are great starting points, but most not become performative events, but rather actionable beginnings to build on everyday in classrooms. There are so many amazing inclusion and equity resources being shared via school boards and social media for educators committed to allyship and activism in areas of Truth and Reconciliation, anti-black racism, LGBTQ2+, and culturally responsive relevant pedagogy. I learned that words in a classroom mean very little if they are not accompanied by opportunities to critically engage learners to become agents of change.
I learned not all educators are ready to confront their privilege and unearned advantage. I also learned that acknowledging my own privilege comes with the responsibility to examine my pedagogy and practice. It is a chance to unlearn, learn, and then teach.
If you are going to move into emergency distance learning within a short period of time, take it slow and make sure you have an ergonomic work space for those extended hours of screen time ahead. I learned that not all students have the same amounts of available space or bandwidth required for virtual school. I also had to accept that some students checked out the moment learning became asynchronous.
Rethink, question, iterate, bend, blend, and break everything you have done in the past to teach. Say goodbye to “we’ve always done it this way thinking”. Reimagine your reading lists, your math instruction, your use of worksheets, your classroom management, and your assessment approaches. This will not be easy, but it will be worth it. Embrace the discomfort. Learn from it, and then teach forward knowing 2020 taught us all so much.

Thank you for a wonderful year at the speed of education. Please feel free to add what 2020 taught you in the comments below. Cheers to you all, and to a safe trip around the sun in 2021.

* There is comfort in the knowledge that the quote above is attributed to a Nobel Prize winning thinker because before checking, I thought the words above were mined straight out of my mind. Needless to say, I am happy to share a common thought in esteemed company. Searching out the source of the quote also allowed me to discover some of Smith’s other vast body of work in economics.

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.