FIRST NATIONS SCHOOLING INEQUITIES
Just maybe, things will improve for schools on reserves – Postmedia
Native students doing poorly at city high schools – Calgary Herald
Nearly 13 per cent dropping out every year
Need for native education upgrades too urgent to wait, former PM says – Globe and Mail
Attawapiskat crisis offers a teaching moment for all – Western News
Attawapiskat exposes urgent need for native education reforms – Globe and Mail
PCAP RESULTS
Boys at school: Is it the teaching or the tests? – Globe and Mail
Reading skills fall in Quebec’s French schools – Montreal Gazette
Shaken to the core…subjects – Winnipeg Free Press
Manitoba kids lag behind nationally in math, science, reading
Report card on schools reveals new struggles for boys – Globe and Mail
Study puts Ontario Grade 8 students on top – Toronto Star
Girls pulling ahead of boys in school, report shows – CBC
Boys only outperformed girls in 1 of 4 math categories
Assessment program hurts class time: union – Winnipeg Free Press
Teachers want Alberta universities to revise handling of Grade 12 marks – Calgary Herald
Boys’ poor results in reading feared to be spreading to math, science – Globe and Mail
BULLYING
The best defence against bullying – Globe and Mail
Young people need respect, protection for their sexual orientation – Montreal Gazette
Students who bully could be expelled under new bill – Toronto Star
Bullying’s rising toll of suicides has political leaders taking action – Globe and Mail
INNOVATION
‘Right now, we build minds the same way we build cars’ – Globe and Mail
Physicist’s crowd-sourcing philosophy gains traction in the classroom – Globe and Mail
Technology: educational divider or equalizer? – Globe and Mail
iPads are in, cursive is out (and other education trends) – Globe and Mail
OTHER NEWS
Social justice and diversity key subjects for new UBC program – Vancouver Sun
Changes will better prepare teachers for work in classrooms: dean
Should province set targets to boost kids’ love of reading? – Toronto Star
Ontario kids can read well, but they don’t have to like it – Globe and Mail
Only half of pupils like to read, survey finds – Toronto Star
Alberta plans more consultations on Education Act – Edmonton Journal
The face of education: is it too white? – Toronto Star
Start school at 2, study urges – Toronto Star
French will maintain favoured status in B.C. schools – Vancouver Sun
Children should start school at two years old: study – Nat Post
Quebec, PEI, Manitoba surge ahead on early childhood education– Globe and Mail
Centre announced to integrate research, education for kids with autism – Canadian Press
Schools put brakes on chocolate fundraisers – Globe and Mail
INTERNATIONAL
How NOT to reform American education – Big Think
Class Matters. Why Won’t We Admit It? – NY Times
Canada’s First Nations: a scandal where the victims are blamed – The Guardian
The response of the Canadian government to the emergency in Attawapiskat shows why indigenous communities are in trouble
EDUBLOG HIGHLIGHTS
The Canaries Are Choking – 21st Century Learning Associates
The results of the Canadian Education Association’s What Did You Do In School Today survey should serve as a clarion call for action from educators, parents and governments. The CEA surveyed over 60,000 Canadian students to obtain their views on the level of their intellectual engagement in school. Less than half of all high school students surveyed reported that they felt intellectually engaged in school.
These results underline the need to rethink public education in and for the 21st Century. The lack of intellectual engagement by students coupled with the calls from many economic and social leaders for public education to focus on imparting new 21st Century competencies in our youth using modern teaching methodologies, including the integration of information and communication technology with learning, should be heeded… Read More
Three simple pages say it all! That’s the length, in its entirety, of the sections in the Indian Act that govern education on reserves for First Nations. Contrast this to the over 150 pages of the provincially-controlled Public Schools Act and Education Administration Act in Manitoba. From this perspective alone, is it any wonder that the most pressing social crisis facing our nation today is the inequitable state of education between students in our First Nations communities and those in mainstream Canada?
Where the Indian Act is silent, the Public Schools Act legislates critical issues such as minimum teaching days, board governance, and teacher certification. It also holds government accountable and gives parents guaranteed rights. Even in its limited capacity, there are no such mechanisms in place for First Nations parents, thus rendering the Indian Act all but irrelevant.
Compounding this problem is a lack of adequate funding for on-reserve schools that receive between $2,000 and $3,000 LESS per student than their provincial counterparts. In some cases, schools in remote communities suffer with $9,000 less per student. The fall-out includes:
Is it any wonder that our students, our communities, and our country are suffering both socially and economically? The truth is there’s a price to be paid – both socially and economically – if we all fail to address and correct these educational inequities. Just look at on-reserve graduation rates, which are as low as 29% in some areas of Canada. It’s a statistic that would cause an uproar were it to happen in mainstream Canadian schools.
Is it any wonder that our students, our communities, and our country are suffering both socially and economically? The truth is there’s a price to be paid – both socially and economically – if we all fail to address and correct these educational inequities. Just look at on-reserve graduation rates, which are as low as 29% in some areas of Canada. It’s a statistic that would cause an uproar were it to happen in mainstream Canadian schools. From a financial perspective, the Canadian Council on Learning estimates the 10-year cost of high school attrition on-reserve exceeds 1 billion dollars with an estimated cost to Canada of $4,750 per year for every student who drops out of high school.
The first step in addressing educational inequities is to acknowledge that this is a Canadian issue, not just a First Nations issue.
The first step in addressing educational inequities is to acknowledge that this is a Canadian issue, not just a First Nations issue. Other steps for consideration include:
Now’s the time for action because, sadly, if we do not begin to deal with this problem, we will relegate generations of students to disadvantage, furthering the mess of residential schools and harming Canada’s economy.
Related Education Canada article:
Anin Sikwa, Tansi, Et-lan-eh-tay, Ho…
As I have reflected on my experience with equity both as an individual and as a professional working in the educational field – I am struck by the lack of appreciation of those inside and outside of the school system – of the definition of equity.

CYBERBULLYING AND TEEN SUICIDE
The tragedy of teen suicide: can schools stop it? – Toronto Star
Time to bring controversy, politics into classroom, experts say – Postmedia
A MOVE TO ABOLISH QUEBEC SCHOOL BOARDS
School boards dodge budget cutback bullet – The Suburban
Quebec school boards fear budget-cut proposal – Montreal Gazette
School boards have to go, says Coalition de l’avenir’s Legault – Laval News
School boards in the crosshairs – Montreal Gazette
Keep them? Kill them? For the anglo community, it’s a sensitive issue
FAILING FIRST NATIONS STUDENTS
Former PM calls education ‘absolute key’ to improving aboriginal life – Postmedia
Canada failing First Nations kids with education system, UN told – Postmedia
Ottawa accused of failing aboriginal children – CBC
CONFRONTING THE PERSISTENT DROPOUT ISSUE
Child immigrants over 9 more likely to drop out – CBC
Anti-dropout program is working, report card shows – Montreal Gazette
B.C. TEACHER LABOUR UNREST
In B.C. school wars, the pupils are the losers – Globe and Mail
Gov’t orders B.C. schools to prepare report cards – CTV
BCTF gives failing grade to new education plan – CBC
OTHER NEWS
Have schools ‘professionalized’ the role of parent? – Toronto Star
From $3,000 to zero, fees vary wildly for prestigious high-school program – Globe and Mail
Education Act put on hold – CBC Alberta
Parents fear sex-crime gap in school safety net – Montreal Gazette
Pardoned pedophiles can teach; Police say they’re unable to do same checks done for staff at daycares, hockey teams
Immersion review not welcomed by everyone – Moncton Times & Transcript
Parents uneasy with French immersion reforms – CBC NB
Cheating policy can work, consultant says – CBC Newfoundland
EDUBLOG HIGHLIGHTS
How to Stop Good Ideas from Getting Shot Down – Culture of Yes (Chris Kennedy)
I was listening to Canadian Education Association CEO, Ron Canuel, recently and he referenced John Kotter, a professor at the Harvard Business School. It was a name I knew, but I hadn’t previously been exposed to his work. Canuel shared Kotter’s list of the four strategies people use to help kill good ideas.
Flipping It – Webb of Thoughts (Kyle Webb)
I’m currently 7 weeks into my student teaching. Recently, I have drastically changed things in my classroom. My classroom used to look like the classroom I had when I was a high school student. Students would sit in their desks and take notes (maybe) as I stood up front speaking to them or worked through a problem on the board. A few students would give me their undivided attention and build a decent understanding of the concept. A few students wouldn’t pay any attention at all and secretly text under their desk or have Facebook pulled up on their tablets. And most students would pay attention for as long as they could, lost attention for just a moment or two, and be lost the rest of the lesson. I would employ all sorts of classroom management strategies to keep my students quiet and paying attention. Then I would wrap things up, maybe give them a few minutes to try some problems, if I had finished things quicker than planned. Most of the time, however, I sent them home to try to tackle problems that they should have learned about during class (and some beyond that). The result? (read more)
The kind of immigration and citizenship that we’re doing reasonably comfortably here in Canada causes horror and dismay and fear at far lower levels among all our allies. We mustn’t underestimate this. We’re caught up in OECD, NATO, G8, G20 – and all of these people are frightened by the idea of immigrants – new people arriving in their countries. And so, they’re creating an atmosphere of fearing the other, fearing the outsider. You see this happening in Europe all the time, you see it happening in the United States, building walls. So fear is becoming the dominant atmosphere, particularly in the Western Civilization, and we have a limited period of time to act with enormous self-confidence as Canadians to say, “Actually, we don’t agree. Actually, we’re not doing it your way. Actually, on purpose we’re doing it a different way, and it’s our way, and it works. We’re not saying you have to do what we’re doing. We’re not saying that we’re smarter than you. But we are saying, ‘Listen, we know how to do this, we’ve been at this for 400 years, we’ve been getting better and better at it.’” Even when we don’t have sufficient programming and government support, it’s still a very interesting, unusual, and particular thing we’re doing. If we start slipping on that in our schools – let alone elsewhere – then we’ll be in big trouble.
We’re caught up in OECD, NATO, G8, G20 – and all of these people are frightened by the idea of immigrants – new people arriving in their countries. And so, they’re creating an atmosphere of fearing the other, fearing the outsider.
What is the source of the Canadian idea of immigration and citizenship and multiplicity and complexity?
Where does it come from? Go back to England; it doesn’t exist there. They spent 500 years banning Gaelic and getting rid of as many competing cultures as possible, and putting forward this very monotone culture; the French – they banned every language they could get their hands on, and turned themselves into this idea of the Gaulois, single language, single myth. So, it doesn’t come from our mother countries. It doesn’t come from the United States, which in many ways is a European culture with the melting pot – the European idea that everybody becomes the same. So you’re stuck with this intellectual conundrum. Did we just invent this out of the air? Does it have no roots? Does it come from nowhere?
This question has a direct effect on the way we should be teaching citizenship in our schools.
[Looking back to the earliest European settlement of Canada, we see] 1,600, more or less, immigrants arriving in the country, and they are basically poverty-stricken, ill-educated, not well washed, and pretty hungry people from France. And then there are some equally ill-educated, poverty-stricken, lost Scots with the Hudson Bay Company. Generally speaking, immigrants who came to Canada were poor and more often than not the losers, and they found two million people here who actually were doing not too badly, thank you… and for 250 years those people were the dominant force here. So what happened? They used the Aboriginal model of welcoming the outsider, getting them in the circle, providing they followed a certain minimal number of rules. And once they’re in the circle, you work out how to fit them into the society…what their contribution is going to be. You balance the individual with the group as opposed to putting them against each other, which is the European tradition. And, there you are, they’re the citizens.
It was the old Aboriginal idea of the circle. That changes radically the way we ought to be thinking about and therefore teaching Canadian citizenship, and the roots of Canadian citizenship.
So that’s where it comes from. It was the old Aboriginal idea of the circle. That changes radically the way we ought to be thinking about and therefore teaching Canadian citizenship, and the roots of Canadian citizenship. They do not lie in Britain; they do not lie in France; they lie in the people who were and are here, the Aboriginal people, and they’re not rational linear, they’re circular. They’re not looking for that metaphysical transformation of someone who is one thing into someone who is another. Instead, it’s a much more complicated, relaxed, living with difference approach. Again, Aboriginal.
That’s a very, very big deal. If you could get that into the heart of our education system, the kids would be so happy, because they’d know who they were, they’d know actually where they come from, and they wouldn’t be fiddling around with this kind of pretend Englishness and pretend Frenchness, and stuff that comes from Europe – and then, when they look at Europe, it doesn’t seem to fit.
It is hard to believe that my tenure as the President of the University of Winnipeg began six years ago already. When I think back to that beginning, I remember that while the University of Winnipeg had always held its own as an excellent provider of post-secondary education, at the time it found itself in a dire financial situation and had lost its direction. In search of a remedy, we set about conducting an intensive consultation both within and outside of our university community with a view to changing the strategic application of our mission to include our role and responsibility in the community. That consultation revealed that in the downtown neighbourhood of inner city Winnipeg, where we are located, many residents face barriers to higher education. It turned out that for many in our community the university was an unknown, strange, and unwelcoming territory. It became clear to us that there was a disconnect between the changing realities of the communities around us, and our vision for a sustainable, prosperous city.
Aboriginal peoples strongly believe in the importance of education and its transformational effect as one of the biggest drivers for empowerment.
Take, for example, the influx of New Canadians and Aboriginal peoples into urban centres. Winnipeg itself is home to the largest urban population of Aboriginal peoples in Canada, nearly 70,000. It is a distinctly young population, and one whose growth will only be surpassed by those who immigrate to Winnipeg from outside of Canada. These shifting demographics, which are not unique to Winnipeg, represent changes of great importance across the country as a growing pool of learners emerges from the rich and diverse cultural backgrounds in our cities. They also put enormous pressure on our institutions to ensure that the transitions are successful ones.
So far the pressures are not being met. As the latest census figures show, the educational attainment of Aboriginal peoples is far lower than that of the non-Aboriginal population. This achievement gap is undermining the future of the economic and social health of the broader community. If Aboriginal Canadians were able to achieve the same level of education by 2017 that non-Aboriginal Canadians achieved in 2001, Canada’s gross domestic product would increase by more than $70 billion over those 16 years. If the education gap were closed completely and educational parity achieved by 2017, Canada’s gross domestic product would increase by more than $160 billion.[1]
At the same time, there is a great appetite for education among the Aboriginal community. In our many conversations with residents of our inner city neighbourhood, one of the most important findings has been that Aboriginal peoples strongly believe in the importance of education and its transformational effect as one of the biggest drivers for empowerment, for securing a job, and for financial stability. Yet they report financial obstacles, curricula that are not reflective of their history and culture, and a lack of moral and emotional support for those pursuing a post-secondary degree.
These obstacles are undermining both the future of the University – by reducing the pool of potential students – and the future of the economic and social health of the broader community – by denying the potential of a highly talented young workforce to replace those who are retiring. To quote Phil Fontaine, the former National Chief of the Assembly of First Nations, speaking about the education of Aboriginal peoples: “We see education as a way out of poverty for our people … education is our future. Education is about making it possible for us to be contributors to Canada’s future.”
Ultimately, what we saw in Winnipeg was an opportunity to fill a role within the community that was obviously lacking. And so we developed a strategy and a plan – for the future of the University, but also for the city. It will be as the ancient Greeks prophesied, first we shape our cities, then they shape us. We realized that the fundamentals of how we live – our prosperity, our security, our sustainability – will be largely determined by what we do in our cities. With our strategic location in Winnipeg’s downtown, we wanted to position ourselves as an anchor for renewal. We were already a well-established educational institution with a good reputation. We were already producing the future leaders and business people who would shape the future of our city. We were well positioned to make a difference. We were supported by the understanding that education can be a catalyst for positive change, but it was going to take some strong leadership.
We started with a series of internal changes of people and practices and enlisted the help of Aboriginal organizations and other community groups to show the way. We are teaching institutions, but we recognized that we had a lot of learning to do as well. As part of building this vision, we involved ourselves in a major strategic effort to re-define ourselves and to enhance our role in the rapidly transforming local and global community. We called it our Community Learning Strategy.
What is Community Learning? It describes the active integration of the university into the social, cultural, and educational life of the community. It recognizes the responsibility of the university to function in an accessible manner and to open itself up to the wide diversity of knowledge and experience represented within society.
Broadly speaking, community learning, as applied at The University of Winnipeg, consists of:
1) the provision of innovative learning opportunities for various populations currently under-represented in the University population;
2) the use of the resources of the University to analyze and address social, economic, cultural, and environmental issues in partnership with community organizations and other groups;
3) the cultivation of dynamic and reciprocal relationships between the campus and the surrounding community in which University resources are used to facilitate community-university learning development in ways that are sustainable in social, economic, cultural, and environmental terms; and
4) the understanding that these initiatives serve as learning opportunities for our students and others from within a broad range of local and global communities.
What does Community Learning actually look like? We have developed a number of programs targeting various members of the community around us. Our goal is to bring them into the University fold, to make them feel welcome on our campus, and to get them excited about learning. We have realized that for some, the benefits of a university education may not be obvious. But through appropriate intervention and the active engagement of students, starting as early as possible, we can show them that the possibilities are limitless.
Funding for our community learning programs is not part of the University of Winnipeg’s present public funding structure. The programs we’ve initiated and the successes we’ve achieved are all dependent on private sources of funding.
ILC programming serves as a “tap on the shoulder” for these children and youth so that they can begin at an early age to see that a post-secondary education is indeed possible for them.
The Innovative Learning Centre
In recognition of the importance of early intervention, we have created an Innovative Learning Centre (ILC) that brings a host of young students from across the city into the University to participate in a series of unique learning initiatives designed to close the graduation gap for inner city, Aboriginal, and new Canadian youth.
Since it was established three years ago, the ILC has served over 5,000 students aged 7-21 through programming both during and after school hours, on weekends, and in the summer months. The ILC develops strong partnerships with school superintendents, principals, and teachers from inner city schools and with the families of the children and youth involved. Using the resources and the infrastructure of the University, ILC programming serves as what Coordinator Kevin Chief calls a “tap on the shoulder” for these children and youth so that they can begin at an early age to see that a post-secondary education is indeed possible for them.
During the regular school year, students from local elementary and high schools are engaged in our Eco-Kids and Enviro Techs programs, which provide on-campus learning experiences in science, sustainability, human rights, and community engagement.
Over the past three years, 2,400 children have participated in the ILC’s Eco-U Summer Camp initiative – one of the largest day camps in the city for inner city and Aboriginal youth in Winnipeg. Campers are engaged in a full slate of activities from traditional dance, to tending a community garden, to participating in smudging ceremonies and traditional Aboriginal storytelling, to environmental science and sustainability experiments. Eco-U Summer Camp employees, drawn from high schools and the University, are often participants in other ILC programming.
Model School
These direct community learning activities have been augmented with what is perhaps our most innovative and complex program: a Model School set up in cooperation with the University’s Collegiate High School and based on successful models developed in Chicago and several other jurisdictions in the United States. The idea was to re-engage students of potentially high achievement who were at high risk of dropping out of the regular school system or who were running into behavioural problems, addictions, or criminal activity. The Model School offers an individualized style of education that helps students achieve success by drawing on their individual strengths, talents, and interests while integrating them into the mainstream programs of the University of Winnipeg’s well-regarded Collegiate High School. Its location on campus has been extremely beneficial to the students as they have been able to utilize all of the resources and materials of the Collegiate while developing a sense of identity as members of the University of Winnipeg community.
In April, we celebrated the first three graduates of the Model School. It was a powerful experience to see these students cross the stage to receive their diplomas. All three students have now returned to the Model School to upgrade their courses and prepare for eventual studies at the post-secondary level. Students and their families have said that this University-based programming has removed a stigma that they have felt with some other programs targeted at low-income students; they feel that the University is a place for them and not an exclusive, closed institution situated within their neighbourhood.
Opportunity Fund
To deal with the fundamental issue of financial need, we created an Opportunity Fund to enable us to establish tuition credit accounts for participating students in which the University will register credit for specific academic or community achievement. Children earning these credits can apply them toward a post-secondary education when they graduate from high school. They are an example of earning by learning and appear to be a positive way of attracting family support.
A secondary component of the Opportunity Fund resulted from recognition that the conventional way of awarding bursaries was creating a number of handicaps for low-income students, such as the initial cost of registration at the University, and the waiting period while financial need and income capacity were assessed. As a result, we incorporated a fast-track bursary option into the Opportunity Fund that offers students financial support through a relatively quick and simple process when they are endorsed by a community group. The values of these bursaries vary for each student depending on need, but can be given to a maximum of $5,000. There was initial concern that this approach would not yield a high retention rate. However, during the two years in which we have given fast track assistance to over 300 students in need, the retention rate has been equal to the average for the student body as a whole.
Wii Chiiwaakanak Learning Centre
To supplement these initiatives the University maintains, on an ongoing basis, the Wii Chiiwaakanak Learning Centre, a drop-in center for inner city residents managed by our Aboriginal Student Services Centre. Wii Chiiwaakanak offers free computer access along with complementary academic programs, traditional language programs, Elders’ circles, and a homework club located directly across the street from the University’s main campus. The centre plays an important role in redressing what is sometimes called the “digital divide”, a gap in effective access to digital and information technology. The demand for such access is dramatically demonstrated by the fact that an average of 2,500 students per month use the computers and services of the centre.
The Global Welcome Centre
We have established a mirror program to help meet the needs of newcomers. The Global Welcome Centre, (GWC) which is directly supported by the Manitoba Department of Labour and Immigration, assists new Canadians in preparation for learning activities and other transitional issues. The GWC offers a university preparation course, mentorship and tutoring programs, computer skills classes, and an Immigrant Access Advisor to provide academic advice and support tailored to the needs of newcomers and refugees.
These efforts at community learning have convinced us that impacts on both the community and the University are positive and that these initiatives have added a new dimension to our role as an urban University with a mandate to tackle the unique challenges of our times.
It has also taught us a great deal about how to make more effective use of the resources and infrastructures of the University, and about how to form community partnerships. It has suggested that partnerships involving a combination of various techniques of intervention can make a difference in outlook and achievement.
Engaging with the Community
We continue to find new and innovative ways to draw the residents of the inner city onto our campus. In 2009, we completed a new student residence with a mixed-use housing model made up of both University of Winnipeg students and other neighbourhood residents seeking additional education. The same year we were able to open a new day care centre, with spaces for the children of both University and community families. For the 2009/2010 school year, the University moved away from contracting out to traditional food service providers and established its own. Under the name “Diversity”, the new food service provider is committed to hiring and training local inner city residents who will ultimately be eligible to own 25 percent of the stock in the company. Its mandate is to supply locally grown, diverse menus that fit the contemporary needs of our multi-ethnic campus.
As the city’s only downtown university, we have accepted the responsibility for addressing the important issues that are affecting the communities that make up the City of Winnipeg. We have worked on the basis of partnership, and we have achieved some success. But there is still much work to do. We must promote community learning as the best way to engage people from all walks of life, ages, and interests and use our combination of resources to build seamless, connected learning systems that ensure everyone has a chance. In doing so, we will enlist the schools, the community organizations, and the universities and colleges in a comprehensive learning partnership in our downtown neighbourhood, both to build skills and enhance talents and to build bridges and integrate our efforts so that we become a community of learners – learning about each other and learning what our duties and responsibilities are as citizens. Does it cost money? Yes, but far less than we have to pay if the fragmentation of lives and communities continues to grow.
It is encouraging to witness the progress we’ve made since those first consultations six years ago. Out of it all, we’ve learned some very significant lessons. We’ve demonstrated that the University has the capacity to listen to and share with the community and to move beyond the conventional orbit of University programming. Even as an institution dependent on public funding, we have succeeded in setting new paradigms for public policy as well as starting conversations around what we can achieve in the revitalization of Winnipeg’s downtown. We’ve endeavoured to dream big – responding to and encouraging a thirst for innovation and leadership in downtown renewal. We’ve learned that supporters will come forward with financial contributions. Finally, aiming at the very heart of the matter, we have learned that community learning can make a real difference. Just ask the most recent graduates from our Model School.
EN BREF – D’après une consultation intensive entreprise par l’Université de Winnipeg, de nombreux résidents – en particulier les nouveaux Canadiens et les Autochtones vivant dans les centres-villes – font face à des entraves aux études supérieures et, pour beaucoup d’entre eux, l’université est un territoire inconnu et inhospitalier. Winnipeg comprend la plus nombreuse population urbaine d’Autochtones au Canada – soit près de 70 000 membres d’une population distinctement jeune et croissante. Cette démographie changeante représente un groupe grandissant d’apprenants, exerçant d’énormes pressions sur nos institutions chargées d’assurer le succès de leurs transitions. Consciente de sa responsabilité de fonctionner de manière accessible et de s’ouvrir au large éventail de savoirs et d’expériences au sein de la société, l’Université de Winnipeg a lancé plusieurs initiatives pour s’engager dans la collectivité environnante : un centre d’apprentissage innovateur, une école pilote, un fonds de possibilités et le Centre d’apprentissage Wii Chiiwaakanak offrant de l’aide scolaire aux résidents du centre-ville.
[1] Andrew Sharp, Jean-Francois Arsenault and Simon Lapointe, “The Potential Contribution of Aboriginal Canadians to Labour Force, Employment, Productivity and Output Growth in Canada, 2001-2017,” Centre for the Study of Living Standards, CSLS Research Report No. 2007-04, 6.
Canada’s continuing failures to adequately address the training and educational needs of its First Nation, Métis, and Inuit learners are so profound as to be beyond all serious dispute, and so unconscionable as to constitute a national disgrace. Isolated pockets of academic excellence notwithstanding, a disproportionate number of Indigenous students in every province routinely underperform academically, drop out of school at inexcusably tender ages, fail to graduate from high school in heart-stopping numbers, and are woefully under-represented in institutions of “higher” learning. Put in the language of the final report of the Canadian Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples,[1] educational institutions at every level regularly “replicate the negative features; including scant attention to Aboriginal world views and Indigenous knowledge; that have led [Indigenous] students to drop out of school in the first place.”
Although reactions to such bad-news reports may vary (some are angry, others indifferent or filled with aimless resolve to do better), no one is in the least surprised. Rather, your standard-issue, deeply inured, non-Indigenous onlooker is so well-habituated to the defamatory idea that all First Nation, Métis, and Inuit persons are interchangeable members of a common, always impoverished, and perpetually disease-ridden underclass that further information about across-the-board academic failures serves only to round out their already bleak picture of the Indigenous world. If pressed to account for such well documented academic shortcomings, other and better-intended onlookers more generously point accusing fingers at poverty, or isolation, or the continuing aftermath of historically earlier colonialist practices – ideas that are, no doubt, at least partially correct. Anyone living in abject poverty, cut off from otherwise available opportunities for cultural enrichment, or a victim of systemic prejudice can be equally understood to be a poor candidate for academic success. Perhaps this is all there is to it. Perhaps, if given a fair economic shake, and more warmly clutched to the bosom of mainstream-Canadian culture, existing educational inequities would conveniently disappear. More money and more efficient assimilative practices are not, however, the only available answers on offer.
Alternatively, the educational crisis that so deeply affects many of Canada’s Indigenous communities is, arguably, better understood, not as a symptom of one group’s ineffective struggles to play “catch-up” with their “betters”, but, rather, as an ongoing David-and-Goliath style cultural war – a war in which anyone caught out failing to reflexively subscribe to what Battiste has called the “classic Eurocentric order of life”[2] is automatically demeaned and discounted; a “take no prisoners” war in which adherents to any and all contrasting (and perhaps incommensurable) “epistemologies”, or “ways of knowing”, are simply written off as having failed to grasp the taken-for-true essentials of “Westernized” standards of truth and rightness. In such a wartorn climate, Indigenous students are, then, alternatively understood, not as slackers, but as the innocent victims of an avoidable collision between contrasting ideologies and their associated pedagogical practices – cannon fodder of a cultural clash in which the unrequited educational aspirations of Indigenous learners are too often shrugged off as a sanctioned form of collateral damage reluctantly paid in order to bolster the presumptive supremacy of Westernized, essentialized, post-enlightenment, Judeo-Christian notions of what is right and true. On this alternative account, responsibility for our collective failure to close the many educational gaps that separate Indigenous and non-Indigenous learners is, then, re-read as a natural byproduct of all of those hegemonic ways in which culturally-mainstream pedagogic practices have traditionally ridden roughshod over those epistemic differences that set Indigenous knowers apart from their non-Indigenous counterparts.
How, in this culture versus that, is it to be decided what constitutes bona fide knowledge? Is truth context-specific or is “real” knowledge universal, equally true in all places and for all times?
Among the challenges that such a “paradigm-wars” approach naturally throws down is an obligation (on everyone’s part) to first get clear about how the arbiters of both Indigenous and non-Indigenous cultures have approached a handful of key questions about knowledge acquisition. How, for example, in this culture versus that, is it to be decided what constitutes bona fide knowledge? Is truth context-specific, for example, or is “real” knowledge universal, equally true in all places and for all times? How are we to best proceed when knowledge stakeholders disagree? How might novices optimally acquire some journeyman-like appreciation of what is standardly held to be right and true? Such classic epistemic alternatives not only pose questions for professional philosophers, but have equally puzzled knowledge stakeholders in every time and culture. More pointedly, and for present purposes, they are also questions that demand answers of anyone presuming to set the pedagogical course for others.
Epistemic Violence
Given the root-and-branch ways in which Indigenous epistemologies have been overturned, it is worth reflecting on the common fate of aspiring learners in just about every previously colonized group one might care to mention. In considering such matters, I tend to imagine myself authoring an apocryphal “self-help” book, entitled something like Epistemic Violence: A User’s Guide – a “how-to” book written for the benefit of anyone aspiring to become an especially good colonizer. Chapter One of this fictional “Operations Manual” is given over to detailing how one might successfully pacify a newly encountered indigenous population by bringing to bear available bits of technological wizardry (gunpowder, antibiotics, etc.), all carefully calculated to persuade the “Indigenes” that what they have traditionally taken to be right and true is actually the mistaken by-product of their own earlier, and now evidently dated, proclivity for “magical” or “mystical” or “child-like” thinking. Successfully duped in this fashion, even members of otherwise well-functioning cultural groups can reputedly be persuaded that assimilation is their only practicable course. There is, of course, nothing fanciful about such Machiavellian maneuvers. Rather it is a piece of the history of very many Indigenous peoples, including many of Canada’s Indigenous peoples.
Of late, however, as the hegemony of classic Western-European epistemologies have been increasingly undermined from within, various Indigenous groups in Canada, and around the world, have similarly come to have their own second thoughts. What was it, exactly, they ask, that – in some all but forgotten pre-contact moment – once defined Indigenous ways of knowing, and why were these homegrown accounts so readily cast aside? Has something of such once-robust ways of knowing persisted into the present, and, if so, how have they served to define what is true about more contemporary Indigenous epistemologies? What costs have been paid by Indigenous cultures of having been bereft (in whole or part) of their own traditional beliefs about belief, and what might potentially be done to rehabilitate those Indigenous knowledge system now eroded by generations of assimilationist practices? Obviously, any attempt to address these and other similarly crucial questions necessarily requires that we somehow get as clear as possible about the particulars of whatever distinctive epistemology, or system of knowledge, might currently be operating within a given Indigenous community, and whether there is any prospect of generalizing such insights across what, in Canada alone, amounts to more than 600 unique indigenous communities. And, more important still, if – as is being proposed here – some important part of our collective failure to adequately meet the educational needs of Indigenous learners does, in fact, turn on our first having failed to adequately take into account those differences that do divide the culturally sanctioned ways of knowing practiced by Indigenous and non-Indigenous populations, what, you might well ask, ought we to do next?
If it were the case that the particulars of such unique Indigenous knowledge systems were already well understood; and if, in some imagined spirit of intercultural sharing and mutual respect, there were a sufficient appetite for real educational change; then everyone’s marching orders would be reasonably straightforward. As Marlene Brant-Castellano made clear in the 1996 report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples: “For Aboriginal people the challenge [would be] to go beyond the deconstruction of oppressive ideologies and practices, [and] to give [renewed] expression to aboriginal philosophies, world-views, and social relations. For non-Aboriginal people the challenge [would be] to open up space for Aboriginal initiatives in schools and colleges, work sites and organizations so that Indigenous ways of knowing can flourish.”[3]
Unsurprisingly, this is not the world in which we currently live. Even where openness to change and mutual respect do exist, it still remains the case, according to Battiste, that “when educators encounter cultural differences, they have very little theory, scholarship, research, or tested practice to engage Aboriginal education in a way that is not [strictly] assimilative.”[4] The consequence has been that existing educational practices have too often functioned as an exercise in “thought control” imposed upon Indigenous learners, rather than as instruments of true intellectual exchange.
The aim of this brief essay is to contribute to this ongoing critique by alerting readers to some of that Battiste calls the missing “theory, scholarship and research” required to bring real change about.
A Closing Agenda
Any hope for real progress in coming to some better understanding the distinctive “ways of knowing” characteristic of Canada’s First Nation, Métis, and Inuit populations necessarily requires first getting clear about what it is, exactly, that talk of “epistemology”, and, more particularly, “folk” or Indigenous epistemologies, is meant to be talked about – all before attempting to work out what it is that contemporary Indigenous and non-indigenous philosophers, ethnologists, and social scientists imagine to be distinct about Indigenous, as opposed to non-Indigenous epistemologies.
As a way of unfolding this agenda, what remains of the present account proceeds in three quick steps. The first of these simply ventures to make plain what is intended by talk of epistemology, Indigenous or not. Step Two briefly hints at some part of what is currently being said about what might constitute the unique particulars of Indigenous, as opposed to non-Indigenous, epistemologies. Finally, and by way of conclusion, there will be room left only for a brief remarks about the ways in which a more careful study of Indigenous epistemologies might serve to redress some of the educational inequities currently suffered by First Nation, Métis, and Inuit learners.
Persons reared in different cultures are regularly said to frame and defend their understanding of truth and rightness in often radically different ways – ways that promote misunderstandings, tensions, and conflict between colliding cultures.
Step I: Epistemologies in General and Indigenous Epistemologies in Particular.
Although talk about warring epistemologies (i.e., standpoints, paradigms, frames of reference, rhetorical postures, world-views, knowledge systems, etc.) is everywhere thick on the ground, one could easily be excused for wondering what all these heady terms actually mean. Like other similarly hard-to-pin-down notions, “epistemology” in general, and “folk” or “indigenous epistemologies” in particular, risk qualifying as further instances of those loose, baggy, portmanteau sorts of concepts that can be used to describe just about anything one might wish. Reduced to its barest of bones, however, the word “epistemology” – plain and simple – ordinarily functions as a covering term that references “a branch of… [scholarship]…concerned with the origins, nature, methods of determination, and limits of human knowledge.”[5] “Folk” or “Indigenous epistemologies”, by contrast, amount to more or less the same thing, with the important proviso that they tend to be collectively authored (not by professional philosophers, but by whole cultural communities), and by the fact that they represent implicit or tacit forms of knowledge and practice that commonly ghost beneath the surface of conscious or declarative thought.
Whatever else might be said about them, Indigenous epistemologies are widely understood to vary – often dramatically – from one culture or historical moment to the next. As a consequence, persons reared in different cultures are regularly said to frame and defend their understanding of truth and rightness in often radically different, even incommensurable ways – ways that promote misunderstandings, tensions, and conflict between colliding cultures.
As thus understood, it turns out that the several foundational epistemologies that have dominated the more analytic branches of 20th century Anglo-American philosophy have played to extremely poor reviews among many Indigenous scholars. Such criticisms are owed primarily to the complex relations that are assumed to obtain between power and knowledge – relations that give talk of Indigenous epistemologies an almost inescapable political character. Nevertheless, and because it “barters [well] within the currency of mainstream academia” [6], many contemporary Indigenous scholars have, nevertheless, chosen not to abandon the otherwise suspect study of epistemology, but have instead worked to “ decolonize” and re-“colour” such efforts by taking up the task of “rediscovering and reaffirming” [7] Indigenous ways of knowing. Reclaimed in these ways, the study of Indigenous epistemologies is, according to Meyer, widely regarded, not only as a “sword against anthropological arrogance and [a] shield against philosophical universalisms,” but also as a new key plank in the shared platform of Indigenous studies.[8]
Step II: Demarcation Criteria
Owed in important part to what has recently become an international renaissance in cross-cultural scholarship, a multicultural cadre of Indigenous philosophers, ethnologists, and social historians have recently mounted ambitious efforts to document and give pride of place to their own non-Western systems of knowledge. Notwithstanding a shared commitment to the context-dependent or situated character of such ideas, certain common claims repeatedly pop up within this literature, perhaps because many of these groups have suffered a common plight.
Key among the common “demarcation criteria” thought to distinguish Western from non-Western ways of knowing are the recurring claims that Indigenous epistemologies tend to be holistic rather than analytic;[9] are context-sensitive and responsive to lived experiences and the social reality of Indigenous authenticity and voice;[10] view knowledge as ecologically situated and unique to specific settings;[11] employ physical geography as a foundation stone of Indigenous knowledge building;[12] make room for the sacred, as opposed to only the mundane;[13] consider certain animals and plants as stewards to certain doors of knowledge;[14] regard, not just individuals, but whole communities as “epistemological agents”; and, consequently, view true knowledge as the result of a process that can only be validated by cultural groups.
Despite this much in the way of agreement among those Indigenous scholars responsible for this concert of opinion, many stalwarts within the “Academy” judge such claims as overly anecdotal and as relying too exclusively on expert testimony, introspection, and informal observations as sources of insight. While such criticisms are not entirely out of place, they have not, for the most part, been followed by any evident sense of obligation to undertake the necessary programs of empirical research required to produce a better rounded picture of what is and is not definitional of Indigenous epistemologies. Where all of this leaves us is that, notwithstanding a welter of ethnographic claims and strong testimonial about the uniqueness of various Indigenous ways of knowing, there currently exist almost no empirically-based accounts of what may be distinctive about the Indigenous or “folk” epistemologies of Indigenous peoples in Canada or elsewhere.[15]
Step III: Epistemic Violence Goes to School
Among the places where the tensions raised by competing epistemological claims are first and most sorely felt are precisely those explicitly given over to the cultivation of new knowledge – our schools. That is, if – as is widely argued to be the case – Indigenous learners routinely subscribe to culturally sanctioned ways of knowing that are at variance with those of the economically dominant culture, and if the systems of mainstream pedagogy to which they are exposed are principally set within some foreign epistemological frame, then trouble is automatically afoot, and school failures and lost opportunities are sure to follow. Available space allows for only one working example that suggests the rightness of such views – an example owed to the First Nations researcher Stephany Fryberg.
Fryberg’s work-in-progress turns upon what the developmental psychologist Carolyn Dweck has termed “incremental” as opposed to “entity” accounts of learning.[16] Those who subscribe to “entity-based” learning models assume (in keeping with classical Western-European traditions) that competencies are fixed, that academic successes are proof of such latent abilities, and that failures call assumptions about a learner’s basic competencies into deep question. By contrast, those that maintain an “incremental” view (Canada’s Indigenous communities, for example) assign success to effort, and treat failure as a signal that still more effort is required. Working with young elementary school students, what Fryberg has shown is that, in contrast to their culturally mainstream counterparts, Indigenous youth begin their academic life with a commitment to an incremental view of learning, but quickly find themselves out of step with the pedagogic models favoured by their teachers. The heavy price extracted as a result of these children’s forced assimilation is conversion to an entity-based view of themselves as fundamentally incompetent. Fryberg’s work, I suggest, offers something of a template for future studies. It draws upon ethnographic insights emerging from contemporary Indigenous scholarship, it trades upon empirical measurement procedures borrowed from some of the best of recent social science research, and it points to possible ways in which educational institutions might work to better accommodate demonstrated differences in Indigenous and non-Indigenous epistemologies.
EN BREF – Notre échec à combler les écarts d’éducation séparant les apprenants autochtones et non autochtones du Canada peut s’expliquer comme étant un sous-produit d’une pédagogie générique, qui n’a pas fait de cas des différences épistémiques – c’est-à-dire de différences dans les façons de connaître – qui distinguent les connaissants autochtones de leurs pairs non autochtones. On dit que les personnes élevées dans différentes cultures formulent et défendent leur perception de la vérité de différentes façons – des façons qui engendrent des malentendus, des tensions et des conflits entre les cultures qui se heurtent. Et ces tensions se manifestent particulièrement dans nos écoles. Si, comme on le soutient souvent, les apprenants autochtones souscrivent habituellement à des manières de savoir qui s’écartent de celles de la culture économiquement dominante, et si les systèmes de pédagogie générique auxquels ils sont exposés sont principalement fondés sur le cadre épistémique de cette culture, il s’ensuivra nécessairement des échecs des écoles et des occasions perdues.
[1] Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples, vol. 5, Renewal: A Twenty-Year Commitment (Ottawa: Canada Communications Group, 1996).
[2] Marie Battiste, Indigenous Knowledge and Pedagogy in First Nations Education -A Literature Review with Recommendations (Report prepared for the National Working Group on Education, Indian and Northern Affairs Canada, Ottawa, 2002).
[3] Royal Commission on Aboriginal People.
[4] Battise.
[5] P. Fitzsimons and G. Smith, “Philosophy and Indigenous Cultural Transformation,” Educational Philosophy & Theory 32, no. 1(2000) 25-41, 25.
[6] A. M. Meyer, “Our Own Liberation: Reflections on Hawaiian Epistemology,” The Contemporary Pacific 13, no.1 (2001): 124-148, 146.
[7] L. I. Rigney, “Internalization of an Indigenous Anticolonial Culture Critique of Research Methodologies: A Guide to Indigenist Research Methodology and Its Principles,” Wicazo Sa Review (1999): 109-121, 113.
[8] Meyer, 123
[9] W. J. Ermine, “Aboriginal Epistemology,” in First Nations Education in Canada: The circle unfolds, eds. M. Battiste and J. Barman (Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 1995), 101-112; Japangka E. W. West, Speaking Towards an Aboriginal Philosophy (Indigenous Philosophy Conference, Linga Longa, Australia, 1998).
[10] D. W. Gegeo, “Indigenous Knowledge and Empowerment: Rural Development Examined from Within,” The Contemporary Pacific 10, no. 2 (1998): 289-316.
[11] Ibid.
[12] D. Foley, “Indigenous Epistemology and Indigenous Standpoint Theory,” Social Alternatives 22, no. 1 (2003): 44-52.
[13] Ermine.
[14] M. J. Chandler, C. Lalonde, B. Sokol, and D. Hallett, “Personal Persistence, Identity Development, and Suicide: A Study of Native and Non-native North American Adolescents,,” Monographs of the Society for Research in Child Development, serial no. 273, 68, no. 2, 2003.
[15] (for rare exceptions to this generalization see Ibid., and M. J. Chandler, D. Hallett, and B. W, Sokol, “Competing Claims about Competing Knowledge Claims,” in Personal Epistemologies, eds. B. K. Hofer & P. R. Pintrich (Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, 2002), 145-168.
[16] C. Dweck, Mindset (New York: Randomhouse Inc., 2006).
We shall never cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive at the place we started
And know it for the very first time
— from Little Gidding by T. S. Eliot
By the time Davis Guggenheim’s latest documentary, Waiting for Superman, opens this month in cities across the United States and Canada it will have already done much of the work that it set out to do. The film has managed to get people talking in passionate and energetic ways around some of the key questions related to school reform. By pulling at our hearts, Guggenheim causes us to care about the issues being presented. By pulling at some of the threads that make up the complex fabric known as public education, he invites us to think deeply about how and where real change can occur.
It would be convenient and quite easy for Canadian viewers to dismiss the challenges and issues presented in Superman as an American problem. After all, Canada ranks close to the top in the very assessments used in the film to underline the ineffectiveness of public schools in the U.S.!
But, when you begin to strip away the contextual layers of the film, and get to the major questions being presented, you are soon faced with issues that are important to any modern school system. It is this set of issues that we would like this discussion series to be about.
Canada’s institutions are rooted in values of equity, fairness and accessibility. Whether we’re talking health care, education, or political participation, we pride ourselves on the vision that all Canadians have a right to receive the full benefits of citizenship, regardless of class, creed, or cultural background.
It seems both reasonable and important, therefore, that any honest discussion about Canada’s schools needs to begin with that vision of equity and how close we are to making it a reality:
Do all Canadian students have equitable access to quality education?
This is where relying too heavily on the massaged and aggregated data presented in local, national and international test scores can lead us astray. Oh sure, test results can provide some sense of general direction—a weathervane, if you will—but they certainly don’t tell the complete story and, in fact, may mask some of the underlying inequities with which certain groups and individuals are faced on a daily basis.
The lens of equity causes us to shift our gaze from the central averages of a phenomenon to its outer edges—and that is precisely where we find those who are marginalized and left out! Here’s some of what we are forced to recognize when we begin to use our equity question as a lens to look at Canadian schools:
There are, of course, other areas of inequity that could (and likely should) be mentioned, but I would like to suggest that these four should be regarded as bellwethers when we talk about educational equity in Canada. It’s fine to speak about excellence when it comes to our public schools, but unless equity becomes a foundational criterion when judging what excellence looks like, we have missed an essential mark. Students who are marginalized and excluded from receiving quality education as young people also run the risk of being excluded from the benefits of full participation in the life and work of society adults.
It occurs to me that the tie that binds all of these areas together is transformation. These are not issues that can be dealt with by imposing short-term solutions. nor can they be addressed by simply tinkering with our current way of doing things. True equity can only be achieved by a commitment to a radical change in the way that we design schools—philosophically, conceptually and even architecturally!
So, here’s your invitation to participate in the conversation. What is your take on the equity question as it relates to Canadian education? How are these issues of inequity currently being addressed in Canada? What more can be done to ensure that the vision of equity becomes are reality? What changes in perspective are necessary in order to bring issues of equity into the mainstream conversation about transformation?
We need a wide variety of perspectives here to enhance and deepen our understanding around these questions and we look forward to a rich and vibrant discussion!
When the First Nations Student Success Program (FNSSP) was first introduced in September 2009, my initial thought was: “No Child Left Behind (NCLB) has finally arrived in Canada.” It seemed prophetic that the 2010 spring issue of Education Canada contained both a piece by Joel Westheimer warning against the pitfalls of constant assessment and Michael Chandler’s article on the social and cultural factors that affect Indigenous learners.[1] FNSSP is a literal marriage of both Westheimer’s concerns and Chandler’s frustrations. The program, initiated by the Department of Indian and Northern Affairs Canada, exclusively targets the education systems controlled by First Nations. The purpose of the program is to increase student improvement and build a system of teacher and school accountability.
There exist substantial parts of the FNSSP and NCLB that can be open to comparison. The founding tenet of the No Child Left Behind legislation put forth by President Bush in 2001 is to ensure the success of all students.[2] This American legislation was passed based on an understanding that, by implementing educational reforms based on continuous assessment and accountability, the state would have the data and power needed to make swift adjustments to school administration and teaching staff based on the objective of raising student success outcomes. Nine years after NCLB was introduced in the U.S., it has raised some serious concerns about the merit of assessment-based teaching, continuous standardized testing, and the disappearance of the social sciences. With respect to a struggling school, the NCLB Act allows for three levels of intervention: first the replacement of the teachers, then the replacement of administration, and finally, if the results of the assessment do not indicate significant improvement, school closure.
The FNSSP program is similar to the NCLB in that it focuses on key areas of performance indicators – literacy, numeracy, attendance, and retention. In the first three years of implementation of the program, schools are required to develop success plans based on these indicators and to establish their own community-relevant indicators as well (which tend to focus on language preservation and culture). In its first year, the program – which is optional for on-reserve schools that already are underfunded compared to provincial schools and could benefit from the additional funding – requires that schools evaluate and adopt assessment schedules, which result in data that can be transferred to the Federal government. What is clear is that to receive the additional dollars for school improvement, the communities must agree to participate in all parts of the FNSSP.
Who controls First Nations education is a valid question to ask. First Nations communities continue to struggle for their right to exercise control over their own education systems, which are funded through the Federal government. With the FNSSP, the Federal government is taking an overtly paternalistic approach to improving student success rates by insisting on provincial equivalent testing. The standards-based approach is a linear Western mode of conceiving formal education, and it is antithetical to the holistic model of education based on a First Nations’ world view. As outlined in the Canadian Council on Learning report on the First Nations Model of Learning, teaching and learning have traditionally been home- and community-based, without a formal evaluation system; instead, this model relies on the existence of evidence that a comprehensive understanding of knowledge has been transferred.[3]
Currently, as First Nations communities begin to respond to the requirements of the FNSSP, an open discussion on the questions raised by the NCLB experience in the U.S. would be beneficial. The most important questions are as follows: For what purpose is this data on literacy, numeracy, attendance, and retention being used by the government? Is it possible that what has been presented initially as a constructive tool to improve student outcomes has the potential to become a justification tool to undercut First Nations funding for not improving academic success? Unless First Nations communities clearly define and own the data they produce, there is significant risk that – as has been the case with NCLB – the data can be used to undermine, as opposed to constructively strengthen, their efforts.
[1] Michael Chandler, “Social Determinants in Educational Outcomes in Indigenous Learners,” Education Canada 50, no. 2 (Spring, 2010): 46-51; Joel Westheimer, “No Child Left Thinking,” Education Canada 50, no. 2 (Spring, 2010): 5-9.
[2] Daniel Koretz, “Moving Past No Child Left Behind,” Science 326, no. 5954 (November 2009): 803-804.
[3] “First Nations Holistic Model of Learning,” Canadian Council on Learning, 4 April 2010, available at www.cclcca.ca/CCL/Reports/RedefiningSuccessInAboriginalLearning/RedefiningSuccessModels
Social Determinants of Educational Outcomes in Indigenous Learners
Seeing With Both Eyes/Double regard
Nourishing the Learning Spirit: Living our Way to New Thinking
Imaginative Education Engages Aboriginal Learners in Prince Rupert
Finally, The Student as Priority/Enfin, l’élève en priorité
Enough, for All, Forever: A Quest for a More Sustainable Future
Debunking Myths: The B.C. Student Transitions Project
Teaching for Equity? What Teachers Say about their Work in Aboriginal Communities
Investing in Resilience: Public education and Voluntary Sector Partnerships
Looking Back/Regard en arrière