Choosing Sides in Education

/ Dave Eberwein / Leave a comment

One of the things I’ve noticed over my almost 40 years in public education is that we love a good debate.

If you’ve spent any time in schools, you’ve likely heard the back-and-forth conversations:

  • Knowledge versus competencies
  • Direct instruction versus inquiry
  • Technology versus books
  • Traditional practice versus innovation

Before long, people find themselves in camps, defending positions as though educational success depends on choosing the “right” side.

The problem? Most of the important questions in education aren’t ‘either-or’ questions. They’re ‘both-and’ questions.

Direct Teaching & Discovery Learning

I am reminded of this when I visit classrooms. In one room, a teacher may be explicitly teaching a concept, carefully modelling thinking and providing students with clear direction. At another time, those same students can be working collaboratively, asking questions, solving problems, and applying their learning in ways that were meaningful to them.

So which approach is better?

Neither … and both.

The real success isn’t found in the strategy. It’s found in the teacher’s ability to understand what those learners need at that moment.

As parents, we’ve all likely seen something similar at home. There are moments when our children need structure, routine, and clear expectations. There are other moments when they need freedom, exploration, and the opportunity to figure things out for themselves. Most of us intuitively know that effective parenting requires both. Yet in education, we sometimes act as though we need to choose one side or the other.

Why?

Perhaps because labels are easier than complexity.

It’s easier to advocate for a program, a methodology, or a philosophy than it is to wrestle with the reality that learners are wonderfully diverse. What works brilliantly for one child may not work for another. What transforms learning in one classroom may need significant adaptation in the classroom next door.

That’s the challenge and the beauty of education.

I’ve often written about the importance of asking why. When we become overly attached to a particular approach, we can lose sight of the reason we adopted it in the first place. The conversation shifts from “What are students learning?” to “Which method is best?” These are not the same questions.

Parents know that teaching children and allowing them to build their independent abilities are both critical for strong development

The schools I most admire are not defined by educational extremes. They are not constantly searching for the next silver bullet or defending every existing practice. Instead, they remain relentlessly focused on learners and being open to change.

They ask:

  • What do our students need at this time?
  • What evidence do we have that learning is occurring?
  • How might we adapt our approaches right now to better serve the learners in front of us?

Those questions create much richer conversations than debates about instructional camps.

The reality is that great teaching has always been both science and art. Research matters. Evidence matters. Effective practices matter — but, so do professional judgement, relationships, timing, and context. A strategy that is powerful in one setting may be ineffective in another. A teacher’s expertise lies not simply in knowing a collection of strategies, but in knowing when and why to use them.

That requires flexibility. It requires humility. And most importantly, it requires an openness to doing something differently.

When we do these things, many of education’s most polarizing debates begin to fade into the background.

The question is no longer whether we should choose direct instruction or inquiry, knowledge or competencies, technology or books.

The question becomes much simpler: “In this moment, what will best help this learner thrive?”

When we start there, we stop choosing sides. And we start finding solutions.

The Invisible Work of Education

/ Dave Eberwein / 1 Comment

As educators, we often find ourselves talking about the visible things:

  • Programs
  • Resources
  • Technology
  • Learning spaces

These are the aspects of schooling that people notice first. They are tangible. Easy to discuss. Easy to photograph. Easy to quantify.

Yet, the most important aspects of education are often invisible:

  • Trust
  • Belonging
  • Purpose
  • Hope

You will not find many of these things neatly organized in a budget document. They do not fit comfortably into spreadsheets, dashboards, purchase orders, or annual reports.

Belonging is at the Core of What We Do in Education

And yet they shape everything.

When I think about the three school districts I have been fortunate to be a part of over my career, the schools that stand out as leaders are never defined by their architecture, the technology and resources they adopted, or the initiatives they launched.

They are defined by how they made people feel. They are the places where students felt seen. Where staff felt valued. Where families felt welcomed. Where people knew they belonged.

In a recent blog post, I reflected on how public education has evolved over the past forty years. I wrote that education has moved beyond simply delivering content toward “a broader and more human-centered vision” that recognizes learning as deeply connected to identity, well-being, and belonging. That idea continues to resonate with me because it speaks to a fundamental truth — learning is a human endeavour before it is an academic one.

Consider any learning environment where students are thriving. What do you notice?

  • You may see engaging instruction.
  • You may observe innovative learning spaces.
  • You may notice purposeful use of technology.

But if you look a little deeper, you will often discover something even more significant.

You will find students who feel known, adults who care, and relationships that are regularly and consistently reinforced which builds trust and respect. You will find a culture where people feel safe enough to take risks, ask questions, make mistakes, and grow. People flourish when they feel connected and safe.

Everything else is secondary.

This is one of the reasons that meaningful educational change can be so challenging.

  • It is relatively easy to purchase resources. It is much harder to build a positive culture.
  • It is relatively easy to launch an initiative. It is much harder to sustain a shared sense of purpose and belonging.

And yet those deeper elements are where the real work lives.

As I reflected in my year-end blog this past June, one of the strongest themes emerging across our district was student belonging. Not because it was a stand-alone initiative, but because we increasingly understand that belonging is foundational to everything else we hope to achieve. Academic growth matters. Literacy matters. Numeracy matters. Career readiness matters. But all of these outcomes become more attainable when students feel connected, supported, and challenged.

Purpose and belonging are not nice additions to learning. They are the foundations for learning.

Throughout this blog, I often return to the idea of “why.” The reason is simple. When we become disconnected from our purpose, it becomes easy to focus exclusively on the mechanics of education rather than its deeper mission.

The question is never simply, “What are we doing?” The more important question is, “Why are we doing it?” The answer to that question shapes every decision that follows.

It influences how we design schools — how we allocate resources — how we support students — how we work together.

It influences whether our efforts become transformational or merely transactional.

When I wrote recently about Truth and Reconciliation, I reflected on the unique role that schools play in bringing together young people from diverse backgrounds, experiences, and perspectives. Schools remain one of the few places in our society where an entire generation learns alongside one another. That reality is powerful. It reminds us that education is not simply about preparing students for employment. It is about preparing them to participate meaningfully in communities and contribute to a better future for all of us.

In other words, it is about helping young people find both belonging and purpose.

As I look back on the many innovations that have moved through education over the years, I continue to arrive at the same conclusion. Most successful initiatives are not successful because of what they introduce. They are successful because of what they reinforce – connection, agency, curiosity and human potential.

Because in the end, the most important work in education has never been the visible work. It is the invisible work of helping people feel that they belong, that they matter, and that their lives have purpose.

And that work changes everything.

Truth, Reconciliation, and the Promise of Education

/ Dave Eberwein / 3 Comments

As another National Day for Truth and Reconciliation approaches, I find myself reflecting on a simple but important question:

What is the role of public education in the journey towards Reconciliation?

For me, the answer is both straightforward and challenging.

Public education has a responsibility to tell the truth. Not a convenient version of the truth. Not a simplified version. The truth.

That means helping students understand the history of residential schools, the impacts of colonization, the intergenerational experiences of Indigenous Peoples, and the lasting effects that continue to be felt in communities across Canada today. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission was clear in its Calls to Action that education must play a central role in reconciliation.

Calls to Action 62 through 65 specifically emphasize the importance of age-appropriate learning about residential schools, Treaties, Indigenous histories, contemporary realities, and the contributions of First Nations, Métis, and Inuit peoples. They recognize that learning the truth is not optional work. It is essential work for all of us in K-12 education.

But education cannot stop at truth alone.

Truth matters because it creates the possibility for something greater:

Justice Murray Sinclair (1951-2024)
  • It creates the possibility for understanding,
  • For empathy,
  • For healing,
  • And ultimately, for Reconciliation.

As Justice Murray Sinclair reminded us, Reconciliation is not an Indigenous problem. It is a Canadian one. It belongs to all of us. That is why public education occupies such an important place within this journey.

Every day, millions of students walk through the doors of schools across this country. They arrive with diverse backgrounds, experiences, cultures, beliefs, hopes, and dreams. Schools provide one of the few places where an entire diverse generation can learn together, ask the difficult questions, and be instrumental in creating a better future for all of us.

Education has the power to shape not only what students know, but who they become — and what they do to make our society more equitable, just and responsive.

In Saanich Schools, we continue to embrace this responsibility with humility, purpose, and a recognition that there is still much work to do.

Our district resides on the traditional territory of the W̱SÁNEĆ people. We are grateful for the opportunity to live, learn, and work on these lands, and we recognize that acknowledgment must extend beyond words. It must be reflected in action. Through Indigenous Education programs, support for SENĆOŦEN language learning, partnerships with local Nations, student support services, cultural learning opportunities, and our ongoing commitment to Indigenous Learner Success within our Strategic Plan, we continue to deepen our understanding of what meaningful Reconciliation can look like in practice.

  • Students engaging in powerful conversations about history and identity.
  • Classrooms exploring local Indigenous stories and ways of knowing.
  • Educators thoughtfully examining their own practices and asking how they can create learning environments where every student feels respected, represented, and connected.
Every Child Matters

These moments matter.

They remind us that Reconciliation is not only about correcting historical misunderstandings. It is also about creating conditions where Indigenous students can thrive while maintaining a strong sense of cultural identity and belonging.

At the same time, honesty requires us to acknowledge that Reconciliation is not a destination we arrive at — it is a journey.

Sometimes progress feels visible and measurable. Other times it feels slower and behind the scenes.

There are gaps to close — learning to be done — voices that still need to be heard. There are still difficult conversations that require courage and persistence.

The reality is that Reconciliation is not the work of a department, a committee, or a handful of passionate educators. It belongs to all of us — each of us has a role to play:

  • Sometimes that role involves learning.
  • Sometimes it involves listening.
  • Sometimes it involves speaking up.
  • Sometimes it involves challenging assumptions we may have carried for years.
  • And sometimes it simply means showing up with humility and a willingness to understand perspectives different from our own.

The good news is that I continue to see this happening throughout our district. And that gives me hope – real hope.

Not the kind of hope that ignores challenges — the kind of hope that acknowledges challenges while believing that improvement is possible.

Perhaps that is one of the greatest gifts education can offer. Education allows us to learn from the past without being trapped by it. It allows us to better understand one another. It helps us replace misunderstanding with knowledge, indifference with empathy, and division with connection.

Most importantly, it helps young people imagine new possibilities.

And that, perhaps, is where hope lives. Not in believing the work is finished. But in knowing that together, we are willing to continue the journey.

Saanich Schools Students Working to Build Understanding