Lessons Learned in Porlier Pass

My husband and I had an eventful paddling excursion last week.  As you read this, keep in mind that we already know that we were out there lacking some of the knowledge we needed.   We were definitely lacking the experience we needed.  The day was significantly longer than what we needed. Those were the "instant lessons" learned.

As in most circumstances where I find myself in way over my head about something, I start digging for the silver lining, the bit of learning that I can bring forward to make things easier next time.  As we brought the kayak onto the beach 30 km and 10 hours later, I looked at my husband wryly, and said, "there's a blog post in here somewhere."

No way was I going through a day like that and not garnering something of value from it.

If you're a water enthusiast, please pardon the basic definitions that follow.  They're alot more meaningful to us now than they were a week ago.

Slack tide:  that time between high tide and low tide where the water is calm and current at it's minimum.  It's tight window. About 40 minutes in Porlier Pass, between Galiano and Valdez Islands.




Flood tide:  when the tide is coming in.  In Porlier Pass, it means the water is heading back to Salt Spring.

Ebb tide:  when the tide is retreating from the shore.  In Porlier Pass, it means the water is heading out of the pass toward Vancouver.  

Flood and Ebb tides in Porlier Pass both look a bit like a fast-moving river.  In telling our story since returning home, my husband has taken to referencing it  as "the maelstrom."

Intuitive readers are already going to have identified that this was some of the deep learning that we hadn't quite solidified on our way to the Dionisio Point campground last week.  We had done some research, knew the water could be quite different at different times of day, and had planned to head in at slack tide.  We have a healthy respect for the water, and had saved tons of extra time, and had lots of extra food as well as our sleeping bags, in case we ended up needing to spend the night.  We had checked and re-checked the tide table before we headed out.

Yet, 3 1/2 hours into an already challenging paddle-  strong currents are found throughout the Trincomali Channel -  as we entered Porlier Pass under glorious sun for our picnic -  we didn't truly understand how quickly things would change.  After a 15 minute munch, (under the only cloudy skies we had the whole four days we were away), we looked back at the way we'd come, to see a vastly different body of water.  It turns out that most of the "slack time" is in the lead-up to the published time for slack tide, not after it.

Before putting the kayak back into the water, we walked out to the point to peek around the corner, and found a roiling boil of swirling whirlpools and what looked like a fast moving river, heading the opposite direction of where we wanted to go. We knew it was 6 1/2 hours before the next slack tide. The actual campsite was a bit further around the point that we'd anticipated, so our picnic spot had actually been rocky shelf,  about 500 m shy of the spot we had originally planned to go to, and was somewhere that wouldn't really be great for camping,  so we decided to go for it and see what happened.  The plan was to stick right along the shoreline and chip away at things bit by bit.  If necessary, we'd pull in along the way and spend the night.

That worked to get us through the really fast moving water right at the point.  We got through the first bit more easily than we expected.  Right up until the kayak got wedged on some shallow rocks.  After rocking side-to-side for a bit to loosen ourselves, and launching off of the rock we backed into, we shot into the middle of the pass.

By now, our clear heads were a little less clear.  We got this idea that the water looked smoother in the middle, so we stayed there, rather than heading back towards the shoreline.  We paddled like crazy to get ourselves out the mouth of the pass.  Forty-five minutes later, when we realized that the landmarks right beside us hadn't changed, (except for when we took turns having a sip of water and shot backward 100ft), it was time for a new plan.

We took a hard right turn to tuck in behind some rocks to regroup. A short breather there let us brainstorm another plan.  There was a second out-cropping of rocks right at the mouth of the pass a little further north, we decided to leapfrog to that.  We did a full 360 in a whirlpool on the way, but safely got behind it.  My husband stepped out to see what that last point looked like- we decided to hug one more corner in the kayak, rather than portaging, and went for it.

This time we made it, and headed to a beach at the southern tip of Valdez Island.  Heading north instead of south added about 7 km to our paddle by the time we would get back to Salt Spring,  but we were finally in safer water, and knew we'd be able to make it back before dark.

I'm not telling this story as a celebration of our kayaking prowess. There's no doubt we were in way over our heads and need to be a lot smarter when out on the ocean in the future.  There's a reason why people go into Dionisio at slack tide, stay over, and leave the next day, at a new slack.  Clearly our misunderstanding the difference between the direction of the water at ebb and flood meant we could have sent us halfway to Vancouver rather than propelling us out to Triconomali after lunch.

But I think I've found a pretty good metaphor for the changes coming for me in the fall.  After 20 years in the Qualicum school district, with the last 5 1/2 in district learning services, I'm moving back into a school-based admin role, with Nanaimo-Ladysmith Public Schools.  I have plenty of learning to do.  Not only do I need to develop and understanding of the district's systems and processes, I'll have TWO school communities to learn from - one elementary and one secondary.

I've been doing some research this summer.  I've had tours of the schools and met the principals I'll be working with at both sites.  I know a little about the schools' goals and focus, as well as the initiatives that the two teams have been working on.  My husband is already with the school district, so I know a little bit about the processes and overall district culture and vision.

It's like paddling in slack tide.  I'm armed with information and I'm moving forward, but without experiencing it first-hand, I don't really know what the waters ahead will bring.  I don't know where the periods of calm will be, nor do I know when the whirlpools and fast-moving current of the flood and ebb tides will start to pull me somewhere unexpected.

Like paddling in the heavy currents of the pass, I need a plan that provides me with a way to collect the information I need, as well as the moments to pause, to reflect, and to correct course, if I'm to be successful in this transition.

I've decided to draw a springboard for this plan from the Leadership Symposium I attended with Sandra Herbst and Anne Davies in early July.   We spent 2 1/2 days talking about ways to "become a system of Master Learners."

Over the course of the session, Anne, Sandra and their team encouraged us, as a group of educational leaders, to consider evidence of being master learners in our own practice.    We were asked to reflect on how our own work aligned with that of the broader system- both at the school level, and at the district level, and to consider "are you owning or renting the work?"

I believe that to successfully navigate the complex tides of the coming school year,  I need to work toward becoming a master learner, to soak up what I can of the new culture and seek opportunities to contribute to my new environment in thoughtful, deliberate ways.  Anne and Sandra call this "Assessment in the Service of Learning."   

They argue that to do this, leaders must deliberately and systematically collect data as evidence of specific goals.  This data, must take a variety of forms-  

a) products - samples of student learning, quantitative data; 
b) conversations - with teachers, students and parents, and 
c) direct observation of learning activities - by both adults and students.  

Looking for the patterns and connections in this data (triangulation), will create a picture of progress toward those goals, and help to identify the areas where additional work needs to be done.

Once I decide on my focus goals, (which I will narrow down after I learn more about the goals and focus of the schools and district), I will begin to collect evidence and build myself a portfolio.

The digital portfolio I started a few years ago is a repository.  An electronic photo album of bits of writing and PowerPoint presentations from workshops I've hosted, illustrating where my thinking was at at the time the samples were generated.  It's a good definition of my beliefs and philosophy regarding my role as an educator.

My new portfolio will be far more focused and organic.  It's not that the things I've collected are irrelevant-   in fact, I believe they're a great snapshot of my learning over time - but they are not focused on my current journey of  becoming a master learner.  They are not focused on Assessment in the Service of Learning with respect to the specific goals and objectives of the schools and district I will be working in next year.   The "umbrella" goal of my revised portfolio will be to help bring me into alignment with my new environment.

By collecting valid, reliable, evidence in multiple ways,  I'll be able to see progress toward my personal goals.  If these personal goals are drawn from the goals of the school and district, I will be in alignment with the bigger picture.  This should help me to find ways to contribute to the work being done both in classrooms in my own schools, and across the district.

Anne and Sandra suggest three questions to help focus the reflection that follows this evidence gathering:

What counts?

What matters?

What's important?

Creating this portfolio will also give me an opportunity to provide what Anne and Sandra describe as "tight support and loose pressure."  If I'm becoming a master learner, I will recognize that collecting data is not simply to help me complete a tick-box-  it's a way to check-in and learn how things are going in a deep and meaningful way.  Once I am more informed about the status of the initiatives and student learning in my schools, it will be easier to encourage myself, and my team, to keep moving forward.  And it will compel me to provide whatever support and encouragement I can to make further growth happen.

My husband and I were in over our heads when we paddled out of "the maelstrom."    Our focus and goal shifted significantly over the course of the day.  In collecting bits of evidence as things unfolded, we adjusted our plans and strategies- and our perspective on what counted, what mattered, what was important.   It wasn't until we deliberately sought calmer waters and really took stock of our environment and our learning to that point when we were able to adjust our goal and make a plan that led to a successful adventure.  It also very clearly pointed us in the direction of additional learning we need to do.

That's the bit I'll take with me in this transition. The deliberate collection of evidence in a portfolio, and intentional stops in the year to reflect on what I've learned, will allow me to construct that moment in calmer waters to take a look around my environment and to consider the variety of options and pathways available to me, helping me to make the best decision I can in moving forward at that point in time.  To provide both myself, and my team, with that tight support and loose pressure toward our goals.

In becoming a master learner, I will better be able to serve the students and staff of my new school communities.  Because, they're all our kids.

Grappling with Meaningful Inclusion

This has been an interesting spring for me.


I am someone who advocates for ALL students to be welcomed and included in learning environments across the district.  I define myself as an inclusion advocate, engaging in problem-solving and planning conversations all the time.  I visit classrooms and teach model lessons to help classroom teachers envision ways to differentiate and provide multiple points of entry so that all students in their learning community participate in meaningful ways.



This year, I was challenged with supporting a couple of school teams who were really struggling provide a meaningful school experience for two learners who are on the autism spectrum, are non-verbal, and who have significant challenges with self-regulation.  Not regular challenges with self-regulation. The kind of challenges that led to two adults working with each of these children at all times, and programs that had evolved to the point where these children were essentially isolated in a separate space with those adults for the bulk of the day.


This was really hard for the dedicated, empathetic, creative teams working with them.  Each and every person- and I do mean everyone - classroom teachers, learning support teachers, education assistants, administrators, parents, itinerant specialists and outside consultants - supporting these children wanted more for them.  Success timetables with opportunities to learn and grow alongside peers had been developed for most every environment, indoor and out, for these students.  The speech-language pathologists had developed high and low-tech communication devices for them, there was a clear and workable structure for a visual schedule and transitions.


We just couldn't get there.  These learners are incredibly complex, and we learned, over time, that their significant sensory needs currently impair their capacity to be safe and successful in typical learning environments.  Even in the spaces that had been set up for them in their home schools, they were exposed to bells, announcements, lighting, noises, large groups of moving children, and even "funny smells" from hot lunch and cooking programs.  We just couldn't get the recipe right for them.

After many, many, parent meetings and conversations with the teams at both home schools, we decided we needed to do something different.  We needed a place where we could focus on these students' needs, and systematically build in interventions and opportunities, especially tailored for them to build capacity with the skills they needed to be successful in their home school environments. We needed a facility that provided opportunity for practicing learning behaviours in a classroom, for up-regulating (our sensory room), down-regulating (our quiet room), and easy access to the washroom.    We needed to be able to work through the challenging moments that would be needed in a way that allowed these students to scream, to cry, to sleep, to explore, to succeed, in a respectful, open way, while keeping everyone, both students and adults, safe while this practice happens.


Thus Bridges was born.

Over spring break, we relocated some of the Learning Service offices to vacate a four-pack of learning spaces that were ideally arranged for this type of supportive environment.  We ordered equipment, found a teacher, enlisted the help of some education assistants who already knew the children from their previous environments, and got things going.

Right after the break, these two students began to attend this new centre.  It feels like the successes are building.  The team of adults has worked tirelessly to create a warm environment.  The classroom is full of literature, and displays of student work (I love the sensory-friendly bulletin board of actual artifacts they created on a recent nature walk).  They have bean bag chairs and soft lighting, they have a kitchen table to gather at for meals and snacks,  and they have a lot of fun creating special events for their class. (My favorite so far was May the 4th Be With You - Star Wars t-shirts and alphabet, an awesome quote from Yoda on the door).


I'm not going to pretend we haven't had difficult days.  Of course we have.  When you're supporting learners as complex as these young people, you will always have things to work out and wonder about.  But overall, the families are thrilled their children are able to be at school all week, to learn alongside a peer, to participate in field trips, and to have the time and space they need to have their individual needs supported along the way.
But that's not really what this post is about.  This post is about the gnawing niggle in my stomach that I've had since the moment Bridges opened it's doors.  I'm awfully proud of the work being done in there.  I can't even believe how fantastic the team of adults is -  taking every moment in stride, continually reflecting on next steps, or considering antecedents or triggers for the challenging moments that erupt on a daily basis.


So if Bridges is successful, why can't I just relax and celebrate?
It's because I struggle, every day, with how this matches with my beliefs about inclusion.  If I believe that teachers need to teach for ALL, that classrooms need to provide multiple points of entry for ALL, that They're ALL our Kids, how can I be ok with having two students leave their home schools, their neighborhood schools, every day, to attend this off-site environment?


After attending the BC CASE conference last month, and being lucky enough to listen to several educators whom I have immense respect for, I've landed on a couple of thoughts that are helping. 



1.  It's about having a PURPOSE within the PLACE.  (Thanks, again, Shelley Moore).  You're right.  Students need to have something meaningful to DO in the place they are learning.  We need to create meaningful opportunities for them in the learning environments they encounter.  Because of the challenges these young learners currently experience, we couldn't do that in their previous environment.  They are not yet able to regulate in a safe enough way to be with other children in a busy, or even a quiet, space.  This led to dangerous situations, sometimes resulting in injury, in their previous settings.


Bridges is a PLACE that meets them where they are at, giving them opportunity to practice being self-regulated learners in an environment that has all of the additional supports and tools, and access to specialists, they require if we are going to help them to develop these skills. Their PURPOSE is building the skills they need to Bridge (pun totally intended) back to their home schools when ready.


2. It's about COMMUNITY.  It's not enough to say we're doing "Social Inclusion" by allowing them to warm a seat at a table somewhere within a room full of others.  (Thank you, Pat Mirenda.)These children deserve an opportunity to develop friendships and connections with peers.  Things were very difficult for them in a larger school environment.  They were too overwhelmed to connect with peers, or "big buddies."    Their whole experience was structured around the adults setting up opportunities for them to interact in safe ways-  which meant there was most often an adult "buffer" between them and other learners.  Now they take turns with activities in their new classroom. They sit together to eat their meals.  They go on weekly field trips to the library, daily walks on the nature bath.  They get Star Wars day.

3.  It's about the WHOLE CHILD.  If we're really wanting meaningful opportunities for our children, we need to provide meaningful learning opportunities (#1), to fostering a sense of belonging in a social community (#2).  And we need them to feel a sense of self-worth, of success, in their experience.  (Thank you, Jennifer Katz.)  While they're at Bridges, these learners interact with one another, with the adults in their classroom, with older students who visit and read or do art projects with them, with their community on field trips.  There is enough space and time to notice each little success and celebrate it.  There is enough space and time to sit and wait for them to think about next steps, to process decisions, to "plunk down" on the path and work something out for 10 minutes, if that's what they need.   Every day, every task, gives us a chance to learn more about these children, and to adjust and scaffold what's next.  Their environment allows us to pace things in a way that honors and respects their highly individualized journeys.


So, now I have three suggestions or thoughts I can offer when challenged to describe Bridges as an inclusive place. I am proud of Bridges because I see how supportive and successful it is being for these learners.


I'm glad that the gnawing niggle in my belly remains, though.  This environment was created as an INTERVENTION for some children who really needed another way to approach their learning.  It's not a "new school."


We need to always be mindful of our end goal - self-regulated learners who have developed the skills and capacities to return to find a purpose within a place back with their peers in their neighbourhood schools.  That is the purpose of this place.  The moment we move away from that, and become complacent, or accept this type of intervention as a "necessity," without looking ahead, we've missed the point.  We have a moral obligation to provide meaningful opportunities every day for every learner, in the most inclusive way possible.  This intervention, like all intervention, needs to be goal-focused and time-limited. 


Bridges is an inclusive environment for learners who were isolated in their previous settings. These learners experience opportunities that allow for that challenge, support, community and celebration in their daily school experience.  It allows for wrap-around support to care for our most vulnerable students.  But it is an intervention.  It's not a "program."  It's definitely not a "school."  As long as we remember that, we'll remember that They Are All Our Kids.

Assessment in the Service of Learning

It's funny how, every once in a while, everyone seems to start talking about the same thing at the same time.

This spring, I've been reading and reflecting on ways to utilize student self-assessment for evaluating the new Core Competencies in the BC Redesigned Curriculum.  Earlier in the year, I challenged our district's team of learning services teachers to write "competency driven IEP goals."  We spent time looking over the profiles for each of the competencies, and talked about ways that this work is linked to classroom programs.  We talked about ways to embed this work into things the students are already working on, and how we could collaborate with classroom teachers to make it happen.

It was a lofty goal, and we knew it was a "process,"  not a "moment."  

Fast forward 6 months, and now we're faced with the task of evaluating progress toward these goals, and starting our planning for next year as we review the current Individual Education Plans. Thus, my hunt for tools/suggestions/supports to offer to the team in our conversations.

I've come across a couple of things that I believe are useful in this quest.

1.  Kallik and Zmuda's book Students at the Centre. 

In it, the authors talk about four aspects of self-assessment to engage students:  co-creation of goals and steps toward them; finding their voice in sharing their work with each other, teachers, and parents; building ideas through relationships (social construction), and coming to understand themselves as learners through self-discovery.  

The text goes on to describe the 16 Habits of Mind that are characteristics for students' success, and provides examples of assessment strategies and rubrics for promoting student growth.

2. Successful Learner Traits:

School District 71 (Comox) began this conversation, but it's gaining traction across the province because of the flexibility of the framework, and the many, many ways it can be integrated into classrooms for students of all ages.  It supports learners towards being mindful of their approach and the way they apply themselves to various tasks.  The list is similar to the list of Habits of Mind above-  and is captured on a variety of colorful posters featuring different animals.  Strategies for Assessment for Learning are embedded throughout the materials.  (Click the photo to link to the website).

3.  In Grading, Reporting and Professional Judgement in Elementary Classrooms, (as well as in their companion book for the secondary school setting),  Sandra Herbst and Anne Davies share some  perspective on ways to prepare students and teachers to engage in self-assessment, and encourage teachers to collect "triangulated" data....from work samples, from observations of students, and from conversations with them.  

Herbst and Davies describe Assessment for Learning as "Assessment in the Service of Learning."  I love this.  It fits beautifully with my belief that educators are advocates for all students, and that we need to teach all students to be advocates for themselves.  Everything we say, do, experience, in school, has an aspect of service built it.  I'm a Scout.  This works for me.  

I enjoyed these texts while I was working through them, but it wasn't until I had the opportunity to sit in a session with them,  and they emphasized a few key ideas, that the deep meaning of what they were really saying, fully landed. 

They challenge us all to consider:

How can we put students at the center of pedagogical reflection?

In what ways does capturing evidence allow us to better know our learners?  
(Because Professional Judgement is not "trust me, I'm a teacher.  It's informed decision making based on solid evidence.)

They offered suggestions-  such as tools for collecting observational data, proof cards, and apps such as Aurasma and SeeSaw - to help us collect evidence beyond work samples in a seamless way.  For a deeper look, their website, Connect2Learning has lots of great tools and ideas available for educators to use.  

This brings me to the personal part of my reflection.  In sitting in the session with Herbst and Davies, I also realized there was so much more I could be doing as a leader to support my team in developing a deep commitment to student self-assessment of the competencies.  

So far, I have shared a collection of articles and artifacts.  I've spent time developing rubrics and participated in "group marking sessions" with colleagues.  I've reviewed IEP goals with teams and helped to tweak the language and determine assessment tools that matched.  I've modeled self-assessment strategies when teaching lessons in classrooms.

In every case, I was modelling and supporting things for others to do, but I wasn't really owning the journey for myself.   I've been saying for ages that it's really difficult to maintain a connection to classrooms and students when working in a district capacity, yet I now realize I've missed the first step in changing this.  While I've spent lots of time thinking about how to help and support others, I haven't worked nearly hard enough at helping and supporting myself.

Herbst and Davies challenged all of the administrators in my district to engage in their own learning and exploring of the tools as a way to model effective practice for others.  If you've not engaged in students in self-assessment in an embedded, authentic way, it's a leap of faith to implement things that will result in very different types of data than has been collected in the past.  If, as an administrator, it is my hope that the educators I work with will engage in this type of practice with their learners, then I should be authentically doing it myself.  

How have others modeled this journey as administrators?

- By creating a bulletin board of photos, work samples, and transcribed conversations, that support the school's journey toward the school goals
- By blogging....not just about personal areas of exploration, as I have been doing, but in response to specific goals and areas of growth
- By creating a personal e-portfolio of learning towards a professional growth plan, and sharing it with staff
- By being a part of classroom environments-  not just for a walk-through, but by practicing new things alongside a colleague
- By working with admin colleagues to practice offering deep feedback to teachers, and receiving/reflecting on deep feedback ourselves in terms of how effective this feedback is.

So.  I've decided to embark in my own process of Self Assessment for the Service of Learning. Herbst and Davies say that that getting going means taking the first, next, step.  I need to take two.

First....I'm going to begin transforming my e-portfolio.  I have one, but it shows where I've been.  It needs revamping to show where I'm going.  I will work on a goal and some plans for stepping toward it, so that it's all ready for the exploration that will follow.

Second...I'm going to find myself two critical friends.  One who is a classroom practitioner who is willing to let me come in and explore alongside next year.  Together, we can pick something to work on and begin crafting our pathway toward it together.    The other is an admin colleague who is willing to offer feedback on my journey, to help me reflect the learning I will do as I deepen my own understanding of self-assessment and using the competencies enhance student learning.

Assessment in the Service of Learning.  It's worth it, because They're All Our Kids.