A conceptual framework developed in February-March 2024, reflecting on practices from my experience in the Urban Communities Cohort in the Teacher Education Program at the University of Ottawa.
As an educator and as a person, I have been lucky to enjoy an immense measure of privilege. I’m a white woman from an upper-middle class family, born in a hospital only 5 minutes from my childhood home. Both my parents are educators, and both of both of their parents were also educators. My position as a teacher is not just as a white, cisgendered, neurodivergent, able-bodied woman—there are “smaller” factors (I do not say smaller to diminish them, just to distinguish them from those that are easier to identify), such as the fact that both my parents are educators, that I was raised in an upper-middle class household, that I grew up and lived in a large city, that I attended university and was not the first in my family to do so, and so on, that contribute to how I engage with my community. In my undergraduate degree, I studied how to conduct user-testing for systems — and part of that training included learning what my biases are, and learning how to enter a user-testing space without preconceptions of what a person may or may not know or be capable of based on what I perceive about them. I took this training with me, and knew that entering a classroom as a teacher, I would need to do the same. But while that was a start, it was also a relatively shallow understanding of the myriad of factors that contribute to my privilege and my biases when interacting with others. Clearly, there is no limit to the things that contribute to a person’s identity, as there is no limit on things that may happen in a person’s life, and so that work of unlearning bias and examining my preconceptions must be ongoing, as there is not an end goal.
I say all this not to attempt to prove any measure of “wokeness” or establish my credentials as an ally to marginalized or oppressed communities, but rather to start with an understanding of where I stand, and how I approach teaching as I begin my career. The terms equity, diversity, and inclusion are used often in conversations around teaching and education, and have been for decades now, but I find that the conversation surrounding them tends to be similar to that idea of entering a user-testing space. We are encouraged to “unlearn our biases” and “create inclusive classrooms”, to see every student as a learner, to put into practice culturally responsive, relevant, and sustaining pedagogy, but the resources we are given to do so are somewhat introductory, or developed over a decade ago, or inconclusive. I understand that there is no playbook for EDI, no checklist or toolkit that can encompass the deep and intensive work that needs to be done on all levels (teacher, administration, board, curriculum, and ministry) in order to create an educational environment that engages, reaches, and encourages all students, no matter their identity, background, or experience. But I have found that as I begin to teach, these conversations need to be somewhat more specific and smaller-pictured; focused, detailed, and oftentimes, uncomfortable for the hegemonic group (which I largely belong to). What I have found, in my (admittedly, still limited) experience is that questions such as “what do my students care about? What do they already know? What do they want to learn?”, “What am I knowledgeable about? What am I still learning? What will I never be able to be a voice of authority on?” and “what practices will work best in allowing my students to learn (and continue to learn) without me?” have guided me more in creating spaces that move towards that model of EDI than questions such as “how can I create an inclusive learning environment?”, “is my classroom diverse and inclusive enough?”, or “how can I as an individual be more inclusive?”.
I want to emphasize that I am not trying to say that I am an expert on equity, diversity, and inclusion in education, nor that I am dismissive of the work that has been done in education to work towards these goals. I am simply speaking from my own experience, and what I as an educator have been able to understand and use. Starting from a place of “how can I create an inclusive learning environment” or “is my classroom diverse and inclusive enough” is not necessarily bad – of course I’d prefer that all educators ask themselves that question rather than not. What I am trying to speak to is the fact that every single classroom (and every single student) comes with its own set of challenges and needs, and that there truly is no way to generalize what teachers can and cannot do if they want to model inclusive education and create equitable, diverse learning environments. What I am trying to articulate, and what is incredibly difficult to reduce to a set of paragraphs, is my belief that if we are expecting educators to set up every student for success, then teachers need to consider the students themselves, rather than broad concepts. I began this framework with a description of my own identity and positionality. I know that I will never represent all of my students, nor will I be able to speak to every one of their backgrounds, cultures, and experiences. This is still something that I find hard to admit, as someone who loves teaching because I love being a resource and guide in someone else’s learning. But if I focus only on myself, on my biases, on my position and privilege, on ‘my’ classroom, on solely what I have to offer, then I will never be able to truly work towards those goals of equitable, diverse, and inclusive education. Of course, these things have to be part of my focus. But I truly believe that if we are interested in helping students become skilled learners and community members, we need to focus on students themselves.
I feel it’s evident that this concept is one that I have not yet fully fleshed out. It’s hard to find the words to say “I would like educators to stop asking themselves if they are inclusive and equitable” without making it sound as if I am advocating against EDI. I just believe in student-centred education. The most impactful text that I have read in my time in teacher education has been Peter Liljedahl’s Building Thinking Classrooms in Mathematics. There have been a myriad of others, those who focus on curriculum and assessment, or on those principles of EDI, but in terms of where I found the most insight into how to become an effective and inclusive educator, it has been in Liljedahl’s work. This may sound strange. It certainly seems to present itself as a somewhat niche text, solely considering teaching mathematics. But as I mentioned, if we are to have conversations around engaging all learners, then they need to be around concepts that are more specific. In Building Thinking Classrooms, Liljedahl uses years of research in order to offer 14 practices that encourage students to think and to learn, rather than to just be students who can memorize the material and pass the test. This was the first time that I’d seen anyone in education concretely discuss how our education system encourages students who can sit quietly, take notes, memorize information, and regurgitate it, and how we as teachers can disrupt this model and hand the agency and autonomy back over to the students. My thinking about what an inclusive classroom looks like shifted drastically. I will never be able to represent or understand every single one of my students. But if I hand the agency back to them and encourage them to work with each other to actively learn and understand the information, then I have a better chance that one of their peers will be able to relate to and represent them. If I want to employ culturally responsive, relevant, and sustaining pedagogy, then I should be actively attempting to release my position as the authority in the room, because my culture is not necessarily that which is relevant to my students. If I want students to engage with and value the information that they learn, then I need to work with them to understand what they value, help them see (and contribute in determining) what I assess, and why it is important. Liljedahl’s work does not position itself as focused on equity, diversity, and inclusion. However, unlike any other I have read, it has opened my eyes to how we can truly implement equitable, diverse, and inclusive practices: by focusing on practical strategies for engaging students.
My goal has always been to be a teacher. The joy I find from providing students with a new concept and helping them understand and use it is unquantifiable. But I have struggled greatly with how to be a teacher for all learners; how to reach and engage and build relationships with every student who enters my classroom. I do believe starting with broad goals of equity, diversity, and inclusion is important. But I have found that I need to step closer, examine what is at hand, and treat teaching as a practice that is focused on the students themselves. Not me, not curriculum, not assessment and achievement, but rather, what students need, on an individual (and class-wide) basis, in order to engage with, be excited and think critically about, and actually learn the information and skills they need in order to become members of their community. What can students teach each other? What do they already know? What do they want to learn? What do they need from me?