As the school year wraps up, I’ve been taking a moment to pause, breathe, and reflect on everything this year has brought. It’s tempting to label each year as “the most unusual,” but maybe it’s time I accept that every school year comes with its own story—its own rhythm, challenges, and unexpected moments.
This year’s story was centered around one clear theme: advocacy for multilingual learners.
When Advocacy Becomes Part of the Job
It started in the very first week of school. Our team—specialized educators supporting multilingual learners—was pulled from our usual roles to conduct reading assessments for Grade 1 and 2 students, most of whom we don’t even work with. That shift was more than just a scheduling issue; it was a signal that something bigger was off. It made us question: Does the school board understand the depth and value of our work?
That moment marked the beginning of a year-long reflection on the role of ESL teachers, the interpretation of collective agreements, and the way ministry guidelines are applied. We spent the rest of the year navigating these questions, often advocating for our roles and the students who benefit from them.
Teaching Multilingual Learners Through Uncertainty
Alongside this advocacy, I was still teaching—adapting, shifting, and doing my best to meet the needs of students through it all. Looking back, one of my biggest takeaways is this: I wish I had leaned more into oral language development.
With the uncertainty of my role and ongoing disruptions, I often defaulted to traditional literacy tasks—reading and writing—because that’s what the system values. We’re conditioned to provide “proof of learning,” and written work is easier to document. But for multilingual learners, oral language is foundational. It’s how they build confidence, develop fluency, and connect meaningfully to the English language.
And while written work has its place, focusing solely on that often comes at the expense of building the speaking and listening skills that truly support language acquisition.
A Plan Lost in the Shuffle—And What It Taught Me
In August, I was so excited. I had designed a vocabulary-rich literacy program centered around picture books—tying together comprehension, writing, and oral discussion. But as the year unfolded, that vision got lost in the chaos of shifting roles and growing demands. The plan didn’t fail—it just didn’t have the breathing room it needed.
What did work beautifully, though, were the passion projects. These were integrated learning moments that supported reading, writing, and oral skills. Students explored everything from anime and trains in Montreal to the history of Turkey and their own family stories. Some students took research home to complete with their families in English. For others, I translated material into their first language to ensure access and comprehension.
Despite time pressures—especially when we were pulled again to support Acadience screening—we made it work. Students presented proudly to their classmates, showcasing their knowledge and creativity. It reminded me how powerful it is when multilingual learners are given opportunities to share what matters to them.
The Hidden Cost of Neglecting ESL Support
But not all moments this year were joyful. One story still sits heavy with me.
I had been working with a student who is bright, funny, confident, and deeply motivated. She had to teach herself English during her first year in Canada because she received no ESL support at all. By the time I started working with her in her second year, we focused on vocabulary, spelling, and building trust.
This year, she created a beautiful project about her home country—something she was truly proud of. But when it came time to present, she froze. She dropped her notes, panicked, and had a full-blown anxiety attack. At first, I didn’t understand what was happening—I had only ever seen her shine.
Later, as we debriefed in the library, she shared that she felt sick to her stomach and was terrified her classmates would think she “talks too much about my country.” That’s when it hit me: this wasn’t just nervousness. This was a panic attack rooted in internalized exclusion and a lack of early support. Her experience in the system had taught her that she didn’t belong—and that’s a lesson no child should ever learn.
This was the moment I realized, again, how essential ESL teachers are—not just for language instruction, but for cultural safety and belonging. And how deeply harmful it is when systems fail to support these students in meaningful, sustained ways.
The Need for Systemic Change and Community Advocacy
I wrote an email to the board sharing her story, highlighting the long-term impacts of pulling ESL support. But the silence in response was deafening. Honestly, that email could’ve been sent to almost any school board—and the result would’ve been the same.
This has made me rethink where change needs to happen. We can’t wait on systems that aren’t listening. It’s time to build community, support immigrant families, and equip parents with the knowledge they need to advocate for their children. Real change happens when families speak out—because when parents advocate, systems are forced to listen.
Moving Forward: Teaching with Intention
As I prepare for another school year, here’s what I’m holding close:
Advocacy matters—especially when the system isn’t built to support our students.
Oral language development is not optional—it’s essential to building strong, confident multilingual learners.
Plans must be flexible—because students’ needs shift, and so must our approach.
To the educators out there navigating similar challenges: keep reflecting. Keep questioning. Keep showing up. Our work might feel invisible at times, but it matters more than we know.
