Schools across Ontario are investing in measures to promote safe learning spaces for increasingly diverse classrooms. Though strategies vary, they share a focus on professional standards of practice, community outreach and student engagement.

In 2012, Dallas Mahaney was an openly gay Grade 10 student at St. Thomas of Villanova Catholic High School in Lasalle, Ont., southwest of Windsor. Though not personally bullied, he worried that homosexual youth are at greater risk of suicide than their peers. That year, with Ontario set to pass Bill 13, anti-bullying legislation entrenching the right for students to ask for a gay-straight alliance (GSA) club, Mahaney was refused when he made the request at his school.

But that September, with the law in place and the blessing of school leaders, an enthusiastic newly arrived vice-principal worked with Mahaney and others to establish a GSA club in the first week of school. Later, the Windsor-Essex Catholic District School Board provided buses for students to attend a local equity conference.

What changed? Danielle Desjardins, OCT, the vice-principal who spearheaded the initiative, says the new club was consistent with board policies to promote safe schools and her own professional beliefs. “As a heterosexual female leader, I have the ability to be a voice for these students,” she says, now principal of Safe Schools, Equity and Inclusion at the Windsor-Essex board. “I see it as my ethical obligation.”

The willingness to look at sensitive issues through the eyes of others — including students from the lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and queer community (LGBTQ) — proved transformative at Villanova.

The 1,200-student high school now provides a gender-neutral washroom –– increasingly the norm in boards across Ontario –– and allocates a room as a permanent “safe space” for gay-straight alliance members. Since 2012, club membership has climbed to about 40 students who meet weekly over lunch.

As well, Windsor-Essex provides teacher workshops on inclusive education, including one led by a practising Catholic who is gay, says Michael Seguin, OCT, a board superintendent for Equity and Inclusion, Faith and Teacher Leadership. “We decided to get out of the gate early,” he says. “Villanova became the flagship of where we were going as a Catholic system.”

Board officials cite the school’s social inclusion strategies, in part, for reduced incidents of bullying and student discipline over the past five years. Earlier this year, Villanova won an Ontario Premier’s Award for Accepting Schools as “a strong champion for social justice in southwestern Ontario.”

“[Ontario schools] are making progress and I look at it optimistically,” says Chris D’souza, a school board equity strategist who teaches an equity course at Brock University’s faculty of education. While praising provincial strategies on equity and inclusion –– and the introduction of anti-bullying legislation in 2012 –– D’souza describes school efforts as “scattered all over the province.”

That puts Ontario teachers, who subscribe to the College’s standards of practice (including a commitment to students, professional knowledge and learning leadership) and ethical standards of care, respect, trust and integrity, on the front line to fulfil the province’s aspirations for safe, caring schools.

“I don’t think you can expect [students] to perform academically if for some reason they are being marginalized, ostracized, bullied or taunted,” says Robert Casey Slack, OCT, a superintendent of education with the Rainy River District School Board in northwest Ontario. Creating inclusive schools, he says, requires being aware of who is “not at the table” and making adjustments to ensure all voices are heard.

With 40 per cent of students self-identified as Aboriginal, Rainy River hired two “Indigenous leads” to assist teachers and schools in infusing Indigenous culture and history in the curriculum. As well, the board supports culture initiatives, including mentoring, and teacher professional development.

“ It’s about knowing your audience and knowing your students and fostering those relationships to ensure that each student has success in all aspects, not just academically.”

Partnering with Egale Canada Human Rights Trust, a national advocacy organization, the board has provided training for staff at all levels on LGBTQ issues. All three Rainy River high schools have gender neutral washrooms and gay-straight alliance clubs, and there is a growing number of GSA-related clubs in the board’s elementary schools. Despite challenges of geography and transportation, the board has provided busing for board-sponsored student leadership conferences.

Slack cautions against “direct cause and effect” between inclusion measures and academic success, but points to encouraging statistics: rising graduation rates for both Indigenous and non-Indigenous students over the past five years.

“It all comes down to the attitudes and the beliefs of teachers,” says Jacqueline Specht, director of the Canadian Research Centre on Inclusive Education at the faculty of education at Western University. “If we look at all the research about teaching and inclusion, broadly defined, it is about [these questions]: Does the teacher believe those children belong in his or her classroom and do they feel they have the capability of having these kids in the classroom?”

At schools with successful practices, the answer is an emphatic “yes.”

Take Eastview Public School, for example. At a chilly sunrise ceremony in late June, teachers, students and community members gather around a crackling campfire on the front lawn of the east-end Toronto school to hear Ojibwe language teacher Nicholas Deleary offer an Ojibwe prayer for the day’s event: a celebratory powwow of traditional games, drumming and dancing.

“We greet the new day: there is a whole new day of work ahead of us,” says Deleary, pinching tobacco between his fingers to add to the fire’s spiritual energy.

The annual powwow draws more than 1,000 students and families from Scarborough-area schools in the Toronto District School Board (TDSB). But for Eastview, this year’s host, the festivities are no one-day wonder — they are part of year-round efforts to create a welcoming learning environment for the school’s diverse, growing population of 400 students. One-third of them self-identify as Aboriginal, as a significant population of First Nations and Métis families live in the neighbourhood.

For Eastview, ranked 17th of almost 600 TDSB schools based on need, an undisputed priority is to build trust with an Aboriginal community suffering the painful legacy of residential schools.

Building trust takes allies — from partnerships with Aboriginal and other social service agencies to support from the Toronto District School Board’s Aboriginal Education Centre for curriculum, professional development and cultural activities. Eastview staff includes an Ojibwe-language teacher, a “cultures and traditions” teacher and a child-and-youth worker — all with First Nations roots.

Eastview principal Kenneth Morden, OCT, who arrived four years ago, sees positive results from collaborations, especially with parents. “It seems they are feeling more and more comfortable to come [into the school],” he says. “If they have got something on their minds, they [let me know].”

September Stonechild, whose youngest children have attended Eastview since kindergarten, was initially unsure about keeping the girls, now five and seven, at the school. Eastview is filled with Aboriginal murals and artwork, but Stonechild’s wariness stems from her history, now behind her, of addiction and homelessness, and from Cree family members with direct experience of residential schools.

Her confidence grew when kindergarten teacher Carolyn Esau, OCT, made overtures through friendly notes sent home about the girls’ progress. “Never in all my life had a teacher asked for my number so they could reach out and ask me ‘how are you doing?’” says Stonechild, who now sits on Eastview’s parent council.

She also credits encouragement from school council president Rashida Wall, whose three children have Aboriginal roots on their father’s side. Wall, a regular presence at the school, was won over by its focus on the varied needs of children. “I see a difference in my kids … they enjoy coming to school,” she says.

Teachers had their own learning curve, some uneasy about making a faux pas when adding Aboriginal content. Esau, who has taught at Eastview for nine years, had little prior knowledge of Aboriginal traditions, but knew she had to learn to help all her students.

She credits then-fellow teacher Christina Saunders, OCT, of Cree-Métis heritage, for initiating “lunch and learn” events for school staff to learn about Aboriginal history, identify curriculum with First Nations perspectives and share insights on professional practice. “I jumped on her coattails and there was no turning back,” says Esau.

Saunders, now an instructional leader at the Aboriginal Education Centre, bristles over lingering resistance by some to learn about Indigenous issues. “The biggest thing I hear is: ‘I don’t know how to do that,’” she says. “It is called Google,” she sighs, citing the plethora of online resources.

This year, the collective efforts at Eastview paid dividends.

In 2015–16, the school reported a 66 per cent drop in transient students –– one measure of family disconnectedness –– over 2013–14. Moreover, 39 per cent of Eastview students clocked at least one month of perfect attendance in 2015–16, up from 29 per cent a year earlier.

Challenges remain, but Morden praises the willingness of teachers to widen their perspective on those in the classroom.

“Most of us come from middle-class backgrounds and we haven’t had those experiences [of some families],” he says.

“It all comes down to the attitudes and the beliefs of teachers.”

In coaching new teachers to look beyond their own experiences, some faculties of education are examining what is known as “white privilege,” which acknowledges systemic barriers faced by visible minorities and under-represented groups.

“We have such global classrooms that we as teachers need to be interested in knowing about the experiences of others,” says Dolana Mogadime, OCT, an associate professor at Brock University’s faculty of education, which held a first-ever Canadian “White Privilege Symposium” in September to explore racial oppression. “We wanted teachers and administrators to have this critical sensibility about how whiteness has an impact on the school environment and decisions that are made.”

As changing demographics redefine urban schools, some schools partner with community agencies to promote student success.

At École secondaire Jeunes sans frontières, a Grade 7 to 12 school in Brampton in the Conseil scolaire Viamonde, flags from almost 30 countries, many from French-speaking Africa, hang in the school atrium.

Well-represented in its fast-growing population of 550 students are children of immigrants or newcomers themselves, including recent refugees. On site is a Peel Region francophone settlement agency that assists new arrivals in making a smooth transition to an unfamiliar Canadian school culture.

Audrey Neka, from Ivory Coast, had no friends at Jeunes sans frontières when she arrived four years ago. Through the settlement agency, she joined accueil des nouveaux arrivants, a student-run welcoming committee. She credits an older student mentor, who by chance lived in the same apartment building as her, for helping her to overcome early academic struggles. “Now I know if I have issues [at school] I can go to the people who can help me,” says Neka, a mentor herself.

Through the partnership with the agency, says Jeunes sans frontières principal Josée Landriault, OCT, “We know our new arrivals are being taken care of and that lets us concentrate on the students we have here.”

Despite inclusion progress elsewhere, the integration of students with emotional and developmental disabilities is a “last bastion” for schools, says Western University’s Jacqueline Specht. “We still have [these students] bussed halfway across the city to special classes,” she says.

Specht recommends increased professional development to instil confidence in those teaching diverse learners. “The attitude has to be that all children belong in the classroom and that I [the teacher] can do this,” she says. “There are lots of teachers who [practise] inclusion really well and who realize that they don’t have to create 27 [different] lesson plans.”

That proved true last year for Ottawa-Carleton District School Board’s Manor Park Public School teacher Julie Duncan, OCT, whose ethnically diverse, mixed-income class of 24 Grade 4/5 students included 15 with individualized education plans (two with autism).

Duncan was concerned about high stress levels among students, many of whom were from single-parent homes. So, she suggested an alternative event to Mother’s and Father’s Day to honour a significant parent, relative or neighbour. Last spring, for “FamJam” –– so named by the students –– they wrote personal letters to their valued adult, practised public speaking (reading excerpts from their letters for short video clips presented later) and used math and graphing skills to organize the potluck menu and seating plan for 80 guests. At the event, each child-adult pair received a commemorative photo taken by a Manor Park teacher, who was also a skilled photographer.

For Duncan, the emotional event (some guests left in tears) created an opportunity for diverse learners to meet the requirements of the literacy curriculum and, as importantly, reduce their stress over Mother’s and Father’s Day. “It’s about knowing your audience and knowing your students and fostering those relationships to ensure that each student has success in all aspects, not just academically,” she says.

Like Duncan, Jeunes sans frontières English teacher Renée Petit-Pas, OCT, emphasizes the need to lay the groundwork to ensure success for students with different skill levels.

Last year, as co-ordinator of the school’s International Baccalaureate (IB) diploma (an international education program that teaches skills for a globalized world), Petit-Pas taught a Grade 11 English class of IB students, university-bound non-IB students, English as a Second Language learners and one student with a developmental disability functioning at an elementary school level.

She tailored the curriculum so that those weak in English could speak French and participate in the class discussion. She also adapted the program for the low-functioning student. “This was someone who intellectually was fairly limited, but I wanted him to feel welcome and comfortable and part of my class.”

Providing opportunities for students of different skill levels to connect with each other “has been incredibly rewarding,” says Petit-Pas. Having established an inclusive setting in the English class, she invited the entire class to help the student with the developmental disability to complete his favourite project: starring in his own short film. All of the students jumped in willingly –– the epitome of inclusion for Petit-Pas.

Back at Scarborough’s Eastview, Morden reflects on the successful powwow and what it takes to practise successful inclusion. “Our goal has been to jump in. If we make mistakes, someone will tell us and will learn a better way,” he says. “This is not the time for hesitation.”

Leadership Training for Under-represented Groups

With an increasingly diverse student population, the Waterloo District School Board (WDSB) introduced a mentoring program two years ago to address systemic barriers for Aboriginal and visible minorities with leadership ambitions within public education.

The Aboriginal and Racialized Teachers for Leadership program, part of a broader board policy to develop future leaders, aligns with Ontario’s Equity and Inclusive Education Strategy (2009), which recommends “positive employment practices that support equitable hiring.”

“If you have the same people tapping the same people [on the shoulder] then [equitable hiring] is never going to happen,” says Deepa Ahluwalia, equity and inclusion officer for WDSB. “If we are going to be of good service to our students, then we need to address it.”