Parenting

Choosing Sides in Education

/ Dave Eberwein / 5 Comments

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.

Every September Begins with Hope

/ Dave Eberwein / 6 Comments

Every September, students return to school.

They arrive with backpacks slung over their shoulders, some fresh supplies, and often a mixture of excitement, curiosity, and nervous energy. They reconnect with friends they haven’t seen all summer. They meet new teachers. They wonder what the year ahead might hold.

Of course, there are practical reasons why students return. School is mandatory. Their friends are there. There are new things to learn and new experiences to be had.

All of that is true.

But it runs deeper than that. Every school year begins with a quiet act of hope.

The doors open. Hallways fill. Shoes squeak across polished floors. Someone is finishing breakfast in the parking lot. Another student is already laughing with a friend before the bell rings. A teacher stands at the classroom door, greeting students one by one, communicating something far more important than the day’s lesson:

“I see you. You belong here.”

At its best, that simple message is one of the most powerful forces in public education.

And yet, across British Columbia, throughout Canada, and around the world, we are seeing growing concerns about student absenteeism. More students are missing school than in previous years, and educators, families, and researchers are paying close attention. While attendance data tells part of the story, it does not tell us everything.

Because attendance is rarely just about attendance.

Sometimes an empty desk represents illness — sometimes anxiety — sometimes a student who feels overwhelmed and has fallen behind — sometimes it is a young person carrying challenges that remain unseen by those around them.

The reality is that absenteeism is often complex, layered, and deeply connected to issues of well-being, engagement, and belonging.

That is why I believe we need to ask a different question.

Not simply: “How do we get students to come to school?”

But rather: “What makes school a place they want to return to?”

The answer begins with belonging.

Belonging is not a slogan displayed on a wall or a statement inside a strategic plan. It is built through hundreds of small moments every day:

  • It is the teacher who notices when a student seems quieter than usual.
  • The educational assistant who helps a child regain a sense of calm before frustration turns into crisis.
  • The principal who knows students by name.
  • The classmate who saves a seat at lunch.
  • The counsellor, Elder, or other adult who reminds a young person that who they are matters.

These moments may seem small in isolation, but collectively they create something powerful. They create connection.

I have written before that before we teach content, we teach belonging.

The research continues to affirm what educators have long understood through experience. Students who feel connected to their schools are more engaged in learning, more resilient when facing challenges, and more likely to thrive academically, socially, and emotionally.

There is an important leadership lesson in this as well.

When school systems face increasing pressures, from staffing shortages and growing student needs to rapidly changing expectations, it is easy to focus primarily on technical solutions — better tracking systems; improved intervention protocols; stronger monitoring of attendance patterns.

These things matter. But they are not enough on their own.

Students return to places where they feel known. That truth sits at the heart of public education’s purpose.

Schools do not exist simply to deliver curriculum. They exist to help young people discover who they are and who they might become. They create spaces where students grow intellectually, socially, emotionally, and ethically.

When students are frequently absent, that work becomes more challenging. But it also becomes more important.

Chronic absenteeism is not simply a data problem to solve. It is a signal inviting us to pay closer attention.

  • Who is struggling?
  • Who is quietly drifting to the margins?
  • Who feels disconnected?
  • And what might we do differently to help them reconnect?

Of course, schools cannot solve every challenge confronting young people and families today. The pressures facing communities are real, and many extend far beyond the schoolhouse doors.

But schools can still serve as one of the most powerful protective forces in a young person’s life. When life feels uncertain, school can provide stability. When the world feels disconnected, school can create community. When young people begin to doubt themselves, school can remind them that they matter.

So as another school year begins, perhaps the most important question is not: “Who is here today?”

Perhaps the better question is: “What happened here recently that would make a student want to return tomorrow?”

  • Did they feel successful?
  • Did they feel seen?
  • Did they laugh?
  • Did someone make room for their voice?

Those are not soft questions — they are foundational ones.

Because every classroom begins long before the bell rings. It begins with connection. It begins with relationships. It begins with the daily commitment to create schools where students do not simply attend but truly belong.

And when students belong, they come back.

Executive Functions are our ‘Air Traffic Control’ System

/ Dave Eberwein / Leave a comment
Searching for the Invisible Skills of Executive Functioning

One of the most effective determinants of student success is building the invisible skills called Executive Functions — the foundations to effective learning. In fact, studies show a stronger correlation between executive functions and student success, than with IQ and student success.

When I visit schools, I’m reminded that student success is actually based on what we can’t see — things like:

  • keeping the teacher’s instruction in their mind;
  • staying focused while resisting distractions; or
  • shifting problem-solving strategies when their first attempt doesn’t work.

These are our brain’s executive functions — our ‘air traffic control’ system for successful learning.

Executive functions: a set of higher-order cognitive processes necessary for managing oneself, focusing attention, planning, and achieving goals. The three core pillars are:

  • working memory (holding and using information);
  • cognitive flexibility (trying a new approach); and
  • inhibitory control (pausing before acting).

The great news is that these abilities can get better over time — sometimes substantially — from early childhood through adolescence. And, as with most things in education, consistent practice can lead to significant gains.

When students’ executive functions get stronger, the results are noticeable in several ways. Things like:

  • clearer writing;
  • better problem‑solving; and
  • smoother collaboration with others.

Not surprisingly, when stress or poor sleep become factors, we see the opposite happen — less focused writing, weaker problem-solving skills and less cooperation with others. Behavioural outbursts out in school, MAY be the result of a child’s Executive Functioning either not being developed or being temporary depressed because of stress or lack of sleep.

This is another great reminder that personal well-being and learning are so intimately connected. Well-being supports like our district’s Mental Wellness Snapshots help families with practical strategies for routines, sleep, and stress management — the foundations for strong executive functions.

Games like Jenga can Build Executive Functions

Here are a few more ways that families can help promote these critical skills:

  • Invite your child to lead the planning for a family activity: “What is our 3-step plan for today’s adventure?”
  • Do an activity that requires cooperation, planning and problem solving — like cooking or baking.
  • Praise the process behind the problem solving: “Congratulations, you tried Plan B when Plan A didn’t work!”
  • Play strategy-based games that build impulse control, thinking ahead and adapting strategies: Uno, Jenga, Chess, or Memory are good ones.
  • Protect sleep time like their success depends on it — because it does!

So, as parents or caregivers when we are looking to build our children’s success at school, we don’t always need to know how to help them with their Calculus homework to assist them in becoming more successful.

What we all can do is find ways of practicing those critical brain skills that open the doors to successful learning.

And I thought Uno was just a game that I never won!