In the northeast
corner of Edmonton lies a small piece of the Global Village. Balwin is an inner
city K-9 school, comprised largely of immigrants, refugees and students from
lower socioeconomic backgrounds.
When Balwin is
showcased in the news, it is typically with a negative slant. For several
years, Balwin was rated at the bottom provincially in terms of academic
achievement, and was known for having murders committed along its immediate
boundaries four years in a row, the last being a decapitated human head.
Perhaps more
disturbing than having a human head found in the alley behind your classroom,
was the students reaction – or lack of reaction – from such an event. Sadly,
many of the students at Balwin have come from refugee camps and situations in
countries such as Somalia, Afghanistan and Iraq where they experienced
unimaginable traumas. The evidence of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is
prominent in our student population, ranging from the inability to self-regulate
to physical violence against staff and other students. Between the affects of
PTSD, coming to a new country, new culture, learning a new language in addition
to curriculum, and, for many, learning to be in a school for the first time, it
has presented an incredible challenge for all parties involved, and, perhaps,
sheds a bit of light on why Balwin often scores low provincially when it comes
to raw academic scores. Students straddle between the new world in which they
find themselves, and their old world which was rife with violence and, often,
religious fundamentalism.
Growing up is
difficult in general. One of my students who, quite honestly, is more of a son
to me than pupil, will tell me that “one day Allah is going to hit the world
with a big stick and I am going to have to cut off your head”. When I ask why
would he do this, does he not care about me, he replies “yes, but it’s not me
doing it. It’s Allah guiding my hand”. The challenges these students face, and
those who are desirous of assisting them to succeed academically, are immense.
One of my former students, now in
grade 9, from Djibouti, came up to me not long ago and gave me a big hug, then
told me that her aunt was murdered - shot in the head – the previous day, back
in Djibouti. This student has been through so much in her young life. In
Djibouti, she was raped, lived outside and witnessed such horrors as seeing her
aunt try to set herself on fire because she could no longer tolerate being a
woman in this country. The suicide attempt had failed, so they killed
her by ramming a nail in her head. Upon coming to Canada, her father lost
his leg and later died. When she first arrived, she was extremely volatile and
violent. She would have anxiety attacks so drastic, the we had to call 911 a
few times as we were unable to revive her. Now, as a teenager, she has one foot
in her traditional Muslim culture, and, the other in Western culture. We have
concerns about her joining gangs, drug use, etc.This story repeats itself over
and over again in our school. These are the children we serve, and offers a bit
of insight into the massive barriers that we encounter as Educators.
Ultimately, this is
a story of success. I have been teaching at Balwin for half a decade.
Originally, I was hired as a Transitions teacher. This program, for which
funding was recently ended, focused on students who specifically were new to
Canada, from refugee camps and had little or no previous formal schooling.
While my class was small and I had a cultural broker to assist me sometimes,
there was seldom a significant difference between the students in my class and
those making up the majority of other classes. Overall, we were looking at
approximately 50% of students being English as a Second Language (ESL) school-wide,
a statistic that remains about the same today (though I would say these
statistics reflect a lower percentage than what I perceive to be the case in
terms of numbers). These ESL students are not those coming from peaceful places
with a culture similar to our own here in Canada. Instead, the majority of our
students are of Somali background, with others coming from troubled or
impoverished parts of the Middle East and South America. The resources to
support these learners are quite different and extensive than supporting a
newcomer who is from a place like France or Germany. In my first year, 5
teachers went on stress leave, fights were a daily occurrence – sometimes using
rocks and pencils as weapons. There was often chaos and little learning
happening. We had to assess how we could affect change. Given the situation,
staff were dealing with children who came from what I would call “alpha” cultures – large families,
interned in camps; a place where only the strong survived and the loudest were
fed. In Canada, we do our best to nurture all students with inclusion and
differentiation, often perceiving those attempting to become “alpha’s” in a
negative light due to their aggressiveness and difficulty being a team player. Understanding
the “why”, we could now ascertain the “how” to affect positive change. As we
identify the problem, we can begin working on developing solutions.
With my class being
the least restrictive in terms of curricular mandates and of a smaller size,
but also of perhaps the most concentrated of negative and violent behaviours, I
introduced daily Yoga and meditation. A practicing Yogi myself for nearly 20
years and a certified Yoga instructor, and also as a person with PTSD, I
understood the value and impact that such a daily practice could potentially
have on students. The movement of Yoga, coupled with the calming affect
meditation can have and the amygdala and sympathetic nervous system, were, in
my opinion, important first steps in helping students to withdraw from their
fight or flight mode and engage in learning. From here, I needed to establish a
set of classroom rules – which I referred to as “Our Classroom Agreement” – as
a way to keep behaviours in check, develop community, empathy and create an
environment conducive for learning. These rules were compiled based largely on
the Tribes
program which I had trained in previously, in addition to other readings and
personal experiences. The result was the following:
1.
No
put-downs
2.
Always
listen
3.
Respect
4.
No
fighting
5.
We all
belong
6.
Never
give up
7.
You
control you
Success did not
come quickly, and my first year was difficult. In all honesty, every year has
pushed me to my limits. Still, abiding by my own rule #6, I continued to
persist. A large part of making these ideas work was to develop positive
relationships with my students and their families. At the time, most of my
students were strong Muslims from Somalia, and accepting that meditation and
prayer were different things did not come easy.
However, over time
and with more relationship building which included learning a bit of Somali
myself (and, since: Serbian, Romanian, Farsi, on top of my smattering of
Slovak, French, German and Spanish), and Balwin’s organization of monthly
information nights for parents who were new to Canada went a long way in
building bridges and making Balwin a community hub; as well as providing us
with the rare opportunity to have translators and effectively communicate with
parents. So, again, by never giving up, these strategies began to have a
positive effect.
After witnessing
these success stories, our Principal proposed that we do morning meditation
with all the classes. So we did, with even further success. Then we decided to
take things a step further and agreed, in the interests of truly building a
positive school community, that we should gather all the students from K-9 in
the gym every morning for meditation. I can honestly say, five years in, that
the impacts have been profound. School violence and conflict has reduced
significantly as students utilize meditation techniques to calm down and
self-regulate, and academics have increased in positive results. In my opinion,
there is a direct correlation to the settling and peace within our school, and
increase in academic success, and our mindfulness practices. Research tends to
support the benefits of adding a mindfulness meditation and Yoga practices to
school curriculums. Given the affects such practices appear to be having at a
school with needs like Balwin, one might assume that schools with more
stability would also gain profoundly from implementing such practices.
