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Wed. Dec. 28, 2005.

Tales of hope from northern schools - Teachers getting parents involved - Success stories despite daunting odds

LOUISE BROWN - EDUCATION REPORTER

It's not your typical school field trip, even up in Ontario's Far North.

The annual Grade 9 moose hunt in the remote reserve of Fort Hope — complete with "firearms protocol" and tips on how to produce the quickest kill — is part of a broad move to boost Ojibwa children's sense of identity and help them feel ready to learn.

In a year filled with reports of despair from across Canada's First Nations, teachers and principals from Ontario's most isolated reserves flew "south" to Thunder Bay recently to share some moving tales of hope.

This quiet little conference on "best practices" north of 50 may offer an early peek at the sorts of programs Ottawa could choose to support with the $1.8 billion it promised native schools last month at the historic First Ministers' Aboriginal Summit in Kelowna, B.C.

The Toronto Star reported earlier this year about the daunting social odds faced by children in schools on federally funded northern reserves in the series Ontario's Forgotten Children.

Yet despite the odds, a growing number of northern schools brought good news to the conference organized by the Nishnawbe Aski Nation, which represents 49 northwestern Ontario reserves.

Here are some of the more dramatic success stories:

• Fort Hope (also known as Eabametoong): The four-day moose hunt for 15 top students is the highlight of an unusual study unit that uses this traditional native skill to teach physics (by calculating the force packed by various bullets); biology (by observing how to "dress"' and quarter a carcass); literacy (keeping a daily journal); outdoor education (reading maps to keep within assigned hunting grounds) and history (practising the way people cooked and built shelters before contact with Europeans).
   
  To principal Steve Bentley, boosting children's pride in their heritage is as important as the literacy drive the school has introduced. It now has weekly drumming groups and weekend reading circles. Students spend two weeks each year on the land in an outdoor education program that includes cultural lessons in trapping and teepee from teachers, parent volunteers and community elders. Every other Friday afternoon students learn traditional beadwork, dancing and drumming.
   
  Gradually, Bentley says he is beginning to see better behaviour, improved reading and less teacher turnover.
   
  "It's important to build children's self-esteem and cultural respect, because when kids feel better about themselves, they're going to learn."
   
• Lansdowne House (also known as Neskantaga): Fed up with children having to move away to attend high school in other towns — and failing — this community started its own Grade 9 program last year. The program lasts a year and a half to give students extra time to complete credits they may find challenging, said principal Julia Johnston.
   
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  `I was asked to raise educational standards — and we're doing that.' - Julia Johnston, principal, Lansdowne House (Neskantaga)
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  "Before, when students went away, it was a disaster, but we're about to graduate our first 15 Grade 9 students in January, ready to ship out to Grade 10," said Johnston, who has launched a string of new programs across all grades. The school avoids the term "special education" where possible because families find it too negative, but has bolstered support for struggling students so much that some remedial students saw their skills jump by two grade levels last year.
   
  "We hired a special education teacher with 20 years experience. We now engage parents by putting them in charge of their child's special education plan whenever possible," said Johnston. Parents are asked to sign notes to confirm their children have done their homework. The school runs a free homework help night each Wednesday from 6 p.m. to 7.15 p.m. which draws up to 80 per cent of the student body.
   
  The school is one of three across northern Ontario, along with Weagamow and Summer Beaver (Nibinamik) that now has been assigned a literacy specialist from Frontier College offering help to both children and parents.
   
  "I was asked to raise educational standards," said Johnston, "and we're doing that."
   
• Sandy Lake: The school has begun to assess children for special needs in kindergarten, rather than wait until Grade 1.
   
  The parents of children with attention-deficit disorder are asked to help out for an hour each day in their child's class.
   
  "They're coming around slowly. Some parents have started coming in to the Grade 3 and 4 classroom," said Yesno. "They know it will help their child succeed."
   
  If a student is suspended for vandalism or fighting, the school may lift the suspension if the parent is able to come to school and monitor the child in class.
   
  The school also started a weekly Ojibwa culture class for parents in singing, drumming and the syllabic symbols of written Ojibwa, in part to make them more comfortable in a school setting, and in part to enrich their sense of heritage.
   
  "We had (aboriginal) actress Tina Keeper come and talk to the community as a role model. These are all small things, but we believe they can add up in the future and make a difference."

Meanwhile, while the Fort Hope students learned much from their moose hunt, they did not actually shoot a moose, confides principal Steve Bentley.

"I wouldn't say anything to the kids, but I imagine a group of 13-year-olds having fun would have a hard time surprising any animal at all."

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Honouring unsung heroes of the north - Living conditions among the challenges

April tour of reserves reveals rare educators

Dec. 27, 2005

LOUISE BROWN - EDUCATION REPORTER

Running late because he had been busy moose hunting, David Kakegamic was a different breed of education director than I'm used to interviewing.

But then, the fly-in community of Sandy Lake, Ont., is a different kind of community than the kind I generally cover.

It's wrapped in woodlands, hours by bush plane from the nearest library, coffee shop or hospital — and the children here face a different level of challenge than I've ever seen.

Ever.

In the isolated northern reserves where photographer René Johnston and I went to report on schools last April, we saw living conditions that were shocking to find in Ontario. But we also met a most inspiring and motley crew of educators working to help these children learn.

High in the northern bush, out of sight and mind from the rest of Canada, an eclectic army of visionaries — some native, some non-native and a whole rowdy bunch from Newfoundland — are devoting years of their lives to helping Ontario's forgotten children. I didn't get to write about them in our series, but they are the unsung heroes of the north:

Grizzled Hungarian refugee Joseph Farsang, a veteran teacher with white stubble and soft heart, walked the gravel roads of the poverty-stricken North Spirit Lake First Nation, night after night, to visit his more needy students and encourage their parents to send them to school.

Genteel teacher Laura Marchand, a retired principal from Vancouver Island, would slip food to hungry students and scold parents and staff she suspected of using crack.

Teacher Lynda Brown of Sandy Lake set up a weekend reading program for children in the school library and discreetly laundered the clothes of students whose families have no washing machine.

Ponytailed teacher Chris Williams returned to his hometown of Weagamow Lake with a native teaching diploma and now uses a gentle manner and firm rules to deal with a Grade 5 class that includes a student with fetal alcohol syndrome disorder, another with a speech disability and several with behavioural problems.

Soft-spoken artist Saul Williams' passion for children outweighs his Grade 8 education to make him not only the beloved education director in his hometown of Weagamow Lake, but a powerful advocate for children in the 24 reserves across the Sioux Lookout District.

He can remember being flown off to residential school as a boy, and dropping out.

He is fighting to ensure that his own son has a better future.

It was an honour to meet them.