My Journey Toward Reconciliation

I’ve been at a couple of gatherings recently where I was asked to reflect on my personal Journey toward Reconciliation.  This is a new question for me.  Up until recently, I think I had viewed it as Canada’s journey toward reconciliation.  Or as Education’s journey to inclusion.  Or perhaps as Educators’ journey to understand and embed First Peoples' Principles of Learning into our practice.  I was an interested observer.  

That’s not quite right.  I was more than an interested observer.  I have reflected on the findings of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.  It was important to me that our family visited the U'mista Cultural Centre in Alert Bay when we were in Port Hardy two summers ago.  We have had conversations about Residential Schools as a family, have learned about spirit totems and symbols, learned a bit about the Indigenous history of our area.  I spent several years on the Indigenous Education Advisory Committee for my previous school district, and felt I was part of
 the conversation regarding supports and opportunities for our learners.  I have invited Elders and other First Nations’ resource people into my classroom to lead discussions and activities.  I think I was moving from Awareness to Developing my understanding, I wanted to be doing supportive, respectful work with learners.  I had boarded the canoe.

Over the course of the past few months, I have been blessed with invitations to some rich conversations that have profoundly shifted my outlook.  I usually look at motivation and engagement through the lens of wanting to move from thoughts to action, but it has suddenly dawned on me that this is far from a linear progression.  (Thank you Linda and Judy.  I’ve had enough practice now that I don’t need to look for the Spirals anymore, they just seem to find me 🙂).

I recently explained to some colleagues that I am a “do-er”. I approach new learning by making to-do lists and looking for my action steps.  I’ve come to realize that’s only going to get me part way there.  Not that action steps are a bad thing.  It’s just super important to take the right ones.  I am aware that my personal journey toward reconciliation is going to take some more reflection and planning.

What led to this shift?

First, a conversation with colleagues where we all shared a bit about our own journeys.  I thought we would talk about what we had “done”. (I talked about my visit to Alert Bay).  We did.  But the part  of the conversation that stayed with me wasn’t the stories of what others had done specifically around reconciliation.  It was the part of the conversation where I learned a bit more about who my colleagues are,  about their personal journeys in life.  About understanding one another and our perspectives on a deeper level.

We were asked to introduce ourselves in a way that shared a bit about our heritage and our childhood.  I have heard Elders and others describe where they were from as part of a Welcome or Acknowledgement before.  I saw this as a way to learn a little bit about the person, but until we all did it as part of a larger conversation, I didn’t realize how profoundly this could help build community amongst those present, how it would build connection and link our stories.  At first, I wasn’t even sure what to say about myself.  My family is my family, but I’ve never  really deeply considered how my heritage has shaped me.  I don’t know much about my family prior to my Grandparents’ generation.  That history isn’t in Canada, and, for a number of reasons,  it’s pretty hard to track down.

The second conversation that shifted my thinking was a visit to the Stz'uminus Secondary School for sharing session.  I was invited by Anne Tenning, our District Principal of Aboriginal Education, to come and listen to community members share their thoughts and suggestions about things we could do at school to help their children be more successful.  One of the individuals who shared talked about how challenging it is for our First Nations students to walk in two worlds.  I have thought about this before, but the second part of her message landed in a different way.

  She went on to explain that the part schools often missed was that while there was sometimes an acknowledgement by the school that we ask a lot from our kids when we expect them to blend public school experiences with cultural traditions and expectations, but that it is not well understood that in doing this, we can also create a tension that is un-resolvable for many of our kids, because many teachers don’t really understand that , for our Indigenous learners, culture has to come first.  That the celebrations, or traditional practices in the community, take priority over school expectations.  It’s not that school isn’t important.  It’s that the other pieces are essential, and are deeply rooted in identity and community.  We need to respect and embrace this in a deep and authentic way for our learners to feel safe and successful in our classrooms.

In that moment, I realized that, although I was aware our students sometimes walk in two worlds, I had unconsciously made an assumption that my job was to help them figure out a way to walk more successfully in mine.  I drove home from that evening feeling excited about possibilities.  I can’t wait to connect with the community to learn more and to work with them to find ways to invite aspects of our local First Nations culture into our school.  Not in  an "add-on" or "special event" kind of way, but as part of the way we learn and grow together, every day.

Having said that, special events can be pretty special too.  Last Thursday evening, I was part of the Aboriginal Graduation for our school district.  I've been to similar events before.  But this was extra-special for me.  I have always enjoyed the performances by groups of students from the schools.  It's lovely to see children sharing something they've learned with an audience.  But Thursday, I was surrounded by community members who had come together to celebrate their children's accomplishments in a way I have not been part of in the past.  Adults and children drumming and dancing and celebrating together.  It was not a school district event where we invited the community in.  It was an event for and by the community that school district staff and other guests were welcomed into.  The dances were not simply performances.  They were authentic, organic celebrations.  I was surprised when one of my students, whom I've never seen in front of a crowd like that, sang with abandon and joy.  My heart was full.

I think I’m raising my paddle and beginning my journey into deeper waters.  I’m learning how to listen and to ask questions so that I can really understand and advocate for things that are designed not just to help our kids walk in two worlds,  but to make sure that more of their world is embraced as part of their school life.  

I’m confident this will support not only our Indigenous learners, but all of our learners.  We will all benefit from being better listeners and from learning to understand one another.  I now see that it’s not about listening so that I can create my own to-do list.  It’s about sincerely, deeply learning, and about finding ways to go on this journey together.  I am so excited to begin, because they are all our kids.

Belonging is the Beginning

Belonging is the beginning.  That's the opening phrase for our school's first goal this year.  It continues as follows:

Belonging is the beginning.  Our goal is to create structures,  ceremonies, and learning environments that will set the stage for a culture that is accepting of all students and meets them where they are in their learning journey.  

Earlier this year, I collected some photos of learners participating in various opportunities around the school, as examples of community, places where kids were engaging and could belong.  These are lovely pictures, and genuine examples, but they fall short of providing deep opportunities for EVERYONE to belong.   Kids join in if they choose, but if you look closely at the pictures, you'll notice that many of our learners don't appear in ANY of them.

Since I took those photos, the staff has really come together to consider deeper, more deliberate and focused, initiatives to help our kids who most need to belong find a place in our learning community.  While we're only at the beginning of this journey, I'm really excited about how things are going.

One of our PLC groups has decided to focus on ways to forge connections with a number of our students who are living on reserve, and who are not finding success with their learning.  While we see many of these kids every day, they are not attending their classes, are not participating in the clubs and events around the school, are not successfully moving toward graduation.  They are not finding their way to us, so we need to go to them.  As a staff, we're going to take one or two of these learners under our wings, encourage them.  Support them.  Meet with them at least once a week, and listen to them.  

We're also going to reach out to their community.  We would like to explore hosting parent-teacher conferences at the Band hall, to help families who are not able to get into the school get to know us and for us to get to know them.  We're going to work with our elder to offer opportunities at school that are culturally relevant for these learners.  The counselor for Aboriginal Youth Mental Health now holds weekly office hours in our building.

Our course calendar for next year will have some changes.  While pairing wood shop with math didn't quite pan out as we hoped, we're optimistic that pairing foods with math next year will give our students a way to learn practical numeracy skills at the same time they learn to create family meals and culturally-based recipes.  This is not an intervention for our vulnerable students, but a super-exciting opportunity to be part of a cohort that approaches learning a different way,  based in First Peoples' Principles of Learning.  Our big dream is that it's the start of a new way to approach learning in our building as a whole.

The Aboriginal Education teacher at our school has been working with a local artist, and some time in the next year or so, we will have a beautiful carving hanging over our stage and multi-purpose room.  He hopes to create Aboriginal Student Council at our school, to help our Indigenous students have a larger voice.  A member of this student council will sit on the executive of our broader Student Council, alongside the grade reps and representative from the Queer-Straight Alliance.

Our Learning Leaders team is also seeking ways to enhance connection and belonging for our students.  We've been reading Martin Brokenleg's book "Reclaiming Youth At Risk," and are excited to be implementing a school-wide focus on the Circle of Courage.  As part of our weekly recognition gathering, we'll give "shout-outs" to students demonstrating belonging, independence, gratitude and mastery, creating a large visual display to acknowledge their contributions.  We'll teach lessons in all of our Humanities and English classes exploring these areas, with belonging being our first quadrant.

The lessons are part of one other exciting piece.  Last week, I was lucky enough to participate in FNESC's session on the revised English First People's 10-12 curriculum. It was my first exposure to these courses.  They are literature-rich, built around First People's Principles of Learning, and arranged thematically.  It's as if the unit on Belonging was especially created just for us.  It arrived in my hands at the just the right time.  These lessons will provide a beautiful launch pad for our work with the Circle of Courage, and will hopefully inspire some of our students to sign up for the other English First People's courses being offered next year.  (The final draft of the guide will be available online by the end of April, 2018).

This is one of those rare magical times when everyone seems to be moving alongside one another in a common purpose.  We've taken some deliberate, focused steps together, and I truly believe it has grown from an intrinsic understanding that belonging really is the beginning. We didn't start from the notion that it was "time to work on goal #1."  We have a collective awareness that what we're doing isn't enough for some of our kids, and a deep desire to figure out how to change things.  It stems from the belief that EVERYONE deserves to have a place they feel successful and part of in our school.  I'm proud to be part of this team.  We understand that they're all our kids.

Correcting Course

Wow.  I knew things got a bit away from me at the end of the school year, but I didn't actually realize it had been this long since I'd posted a blog entry.   It's a fact of life in education.  We get going with the busy of our day-to-day roles, and the personal professional learning and reflection gets harder and harder to sustain.

So, how do we give ourselves permission to ebb and flow a little bit?  How do we keep moving forward as the to-do list whips by?  How do we sustain enthusiasm and commitment to our own learning when the fatigue of the onslaught of special events and year-end wrap-up tasks sets in?   And most importantly, how do we keep students at the center of our learning along the way?

At the BC CASE spring conference this year, I was introduced to a tool that I can't actually believe I hadn't encountered before.  Laura Tait, from the Nanaimo-Ladysmith School District, developed this Aboriginal Understandings Learning Progression rubric, which for me, is very honoring for educators, regardless of where they are on their personal journey.  While it was originally developed as a tool to support people with embedding indigenous beliefs and practices into teaching pedagogy, I believe it is just as valuable for other aspects of adult learning and professional development.

To consider new ways of approaching teaching and learning, and new ways of knowing, doing, and understanding the big ideas and core competencies of our new curriculum, the four levels of this rubric offer everyone a way in for everyone, and provide a structure for nurturing next steps.

I was really excited to be exposed to this rubric first at a BC CASE conference.  For those of you who aren't familiar with the group, it is the "BC Council for Administrators in Special Education."    Don't worry.  We're getting ready to look at our name, and our mandate, in the coming year-  for some time, CASE has been exploring the ideals of inclusive education and differentiated learning.  For me, seeing this rubric for the first time at a "special education" conference illuminated just how far we've come.   No where on this tool does it suggest a "special deal for special teachers,"  or suggest that some of us will be fully on the journey, while others will have an adapted or modified way in.  But even more importantly,  it includes an inherent assumption that we are engaging in the work.

For me, this rubric is a triple-play.

1.  It's a way for me to start thinking about indigenous understandings, and where and how they fit into the work that I do.  I'm not currently in a classroom role, but I do work with teachers and students all the time in developing IEP goals and in supporting inclusive classroom environments.  While I believe I am at the developing stage in terms of knowledge, I am only at the awareness stage of learning how to embed aboriginal content and cultural understandings in the work I do with students and teachers.   That's a hard thing for me to say.  After being on the First Nations' Liaison Committee in our district for almost 5 years, it should have occurred to me long before now that this wasn't just the domain of classroom teachers and our First Nations' team in the district.  At the same time, I'm excited to think about possibilities.

2.  It's a tool I can use when working with school teams and learning services teachers this coming year.  We've had a few years to start practicing deep differentiation, and to encourage and support a more inclusive approach to working with ALL students, and I think using this rubric, and the metaphor of approaching the water, boarding the canoe, raising the paddle, and journeying into deeper waters, can help us further discussion with respect to our own practice.  We know that our colleagues are in different places in terms of their beliefs and skills in working with diverse groups of students.  What language can we develop around this metaphor to support teacher beliefs, knowledge and skills, and how can this approach support our day-to-day work?

3.  It's a way to give myself permission to move forward with my own learning in my own pace and time.  All four bits of the journey are critical for a successful voyage.  I actually do a fair amount of paddling with our scout group, and we have kayaks as a family-  but they get used a lot more in fair weather than they do over the winter.  Some of the trips are for an afternoon, others for a week or so.  I know that I'll get out on the water when I can.  I certainly anticipate and appreciate each outing as it comes.  I learn new skills and gather information about routes and paddling skills in between the big events.  Which has left me thinking that it's ok if I go deeper with exploring new ideas and engaging in professional reading and blogging more at some times of the year than others.  I actually tried to write a post about this rubric a couple of times when I first saw it, but couldn't quite connect the dots into something coherent enough to put out there for others to see.  I'm ok with that now.  I'm rested, and excited about getting started on the stack of books I've amassed over the last couple of months-  and I know I will be ready for the new year and the learning that comes with it, at the end of the summer.

I might stock-pile a few draft posts though.  I've certainly learned how easily time can get away from me, and creating a bit of a structure to keep me moving forward may help me paddle toward deeper waters more often.

It's important for me to keep thinking about the skills and knowledge I need to work with students.   After all, THEY ARE ALL OUR KIDS....