Showing posts with label Policy Design. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Policy Design. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 19, 2020

This Land Is Our Land: Using Treaty Education To Reconceptualize Provincial and Municipal Curricular Language


This Land Is Our Land:
Using Treaty Education To Reconceptualize Provincial and Municipal Curricular Language




Conceptual Framework


This re-envisioning of the Ontario Grade 10 Civics curriculum, and the Toronto Municipal Elections Grade 10 Civics Supplementary Activities, is primarily centered around critical education. The disenfranchisement of the Indigenous perspective in curriculum documents ties directly to the critique of individual freedom and its inability to contribute towards equality. The critical lens questions the concept of political equality when pervasive economic redistribution and widespread cultural recognition are not enshrined within institutions or public life. Without equal distribution of power, equal opportunity cannot be achieved (Sant, 2019). Thus, is the purview of the critical educator to identify, critique, and speak back to those cultural and institutional apparatuses that implicitly or explicitly silence marginalized communities.

Within this context of critical education, this reframing uses the lens of treaty education to integrate the perspective of FNMI peoples into the Ontario Grade 10 Civics curriculum in a meaningful way. Tupper (2012) establishes treaty education as a framework that “requires all students to consider how their own lives and privileges are connected to and may be traced through, treaties and the treaty relationship”. Further, she identifies the structural and symbolic forms of violence inherent in the colonial discourses from which the curriculum is based. Structural violence “exists when unequal power is built into social structures, resulting in differential harm to some people’s life chances”; symbolic violence is the result of “the harmful consequences of social hierarchies, which require that some groups be marginalized while others maintain dominance” (Tupper, 2014). Structural violence against FNMI peoples is built in to the Civics curriculum, as there is no visible evidence of FNMI consultation, input, or writing of the document, thereby denying FNMI peoples the ability to construct their own narrative in education. Symbolic violence is evident when examining how FNMI peoples are addressed in the curriculum. The reader is warned that FNMI students may have had limited opportunities for formal schooling, therefore requiring special accommodations (Ontario Ministry of Education, 44), and that their parents may need special encouragement to feel more comfortable in schools (Ontario Ministry of Education, 48). Using treaty education to re-examine education policy will work towards students and teachers “engaging with the traumatic content that constitutes historical and contemporary relationships with First Nations people”, by “doing the difficult and uncomfortable work of coming to understand the significance of being a treaty person” (Tupper, 2014).


Treaty education will be used to compare and contrast FNMI protests about land use with municipal protests against unwanted facilities in local neighbourhoods, known as NIMBYism, or “not in my backyard”-ism. Wolsink (2006) defines NIMBYism as “an attitude ascribed to persons who object to the siting of something they regard as detrimental or hazardous in their own neighbourhood, while by implication raising no such objections to similar developments elsewhere.” Referring specifically to large projects that have deleterious environmental effects – also known as locally unwanted land use, or LULUs – the authors note that NIMBYism results in “peripheralization […] in which pollution-intensive activities might end up in areas populated by social groups that lack the economic and political resources to resist such activities” (Wolsink, 2006). NIMBY activities can take the form of participatory politics, defined by Khane, et al. (2016) as people trying to exert influence on issues of public concern by working outside the system of institutional politics and traditional gatekeepers. People who engage in participatory politics are those who are frustrated with what they perceive to be the inefficiency and lack of results from the electoral process, and prefer to engage in “lifestyle politics” such as protesting, blogging, reposting politicized social media content, and more. An example of this is No Jets T.O., an organization devoted to preventing the expansion of the runway at Toronto’s Billy Bishop airport through petitions, social media posts, media campaigns, and public awareness events. 


Context


As my area of collaborative specialization at OISE is in Educational Policy, this critical reimagining will address two policy documents - the Ontario Grade 10 Civics curriculum, and the Toronto Municipal Elections Grade 10 Civics Supplementary Activities document, specifically Activity 4: Controversial Issues – Not In My Backyard. With regards to the curriculum document, the focus will be on the following expectations:


By the end of this course, students will…

  • B1.1 - Describe some civic issues of local, national, and/or global significance

  • B1.2 – Describe fundamental beliefs and values associated with democratic citizenship in Canada

  • B1.4 – Communicate their own position on some issues of civic importance at the local, national, and/or global level

  • B2.4 – Explain, with reference to issues of civic importance, how various groups and institutions can influence government

  • B3.3 – Explain how the judicial system and other institutions and/or organizations help protect the rights of individuals and the public good in Canada

  • C1.2 – Describe a variety of ways in which they could make civic contribution at the local, national, and/or global level

  • C2.1 – Analyze ways in which various beliefs, values, and perspectives are represented in their communities 

I remain keenly aware that, as a heterosexual white male settler, it is not my voice that needs to take precedence in this examination. Any actualized changes to policy must be made for, with, and by FNMI peoples. My goal is to begin a conversation that can lead towards Tupper’s concept of “curriculum as intervention”, as made evident in the “foundational entrenchment of First Nations and Metis ways of knowing, content and perspectives” found in the educational policy of Saskatchewan since 2008 (Tupper, 2014).


Learning Goals and Approach


The goal is to critically examine and reimagine the language used in curriculum expectations, and supplementary activities, through the lens of treaty education, and suggest alternatives that move toward “curriculum as intervention”.  McAvoy and Hess (2013), in their work on deliberative discussions, suggest that harmony between disparate groups is achieved when working with authentic and powerful issues, of which controversial land use is certainly one. They further suggest that groups should engage in conversations about ideological diversity; thus, the reframed curriculum expectations should include prompts to engage in the “difficult knowledge” of teachers and students recognizing their settlerhood where applicable. Sabzalian’s (2019) framework for anticolonial civic education will also be of use here. Ontario schools have begun to address the issue of place with the land acknowledgements read during morning announcements; presence and perspectives can be addressed with field trips, guest speakers, and the like. Reframing curriculum expectations, and supplementary materials, will move towards integrating political nationhood, by teaching about treaties; power, by explicitly challenging structures of colonialism within the curriculum; and, ideally, partnerships by having FNMI peoples actively involved in rewriting Civics curricula.




Reimagining - Toronto Municipal Elections Grade 10 Civics Supplementary Activities


In this supplementary package, developed by the Toronto District School Board, OISE, and the City of Toronto, Activity #4 is titled Controversial City Issues: “Not In My Backyard!” (NIMBY). The official literature here defines NIMBYism as “controversial situations where local citizens are opposed to government proposals to place new developments or services in their communities.” Further, it establishes a pro-government narrative by describing LULUs as means to help government operate more efficiently, provide needed services, create more jobs and a larger tax base, and to “run smoothly” (Livsey and Paglia, 2010). By positioning themselves as fundamentally beneficial to citizens, the government conversely frames any anti-government activity as anti-citizen; this showcases the technocratic position that NIMBY activity “reflect[s] irrational and narrow-minded, stubbornly hostile attitudes towards national progress and modernization” (Wolsink, 2006). While the municipal government and the NIMBYs may argue over whether or not the “backyard” should be developed, however, a treaty education framework must call attention to whose “backyard” it is. Tupper (2014) suggests that the underlying “myth of the empty wilderness”, upon which settler Canada is conceptualized, “is produced by agents of the state as a means of commemoration the arrival of early explorers […] Such discovery narratives underlie presumed property rights in settler colonial societies.” Any teacher or student using this package to supplement their Civics education must be aware that the conversation around land use is not a NIMBY-government diode; that the relationships they are being asked to learn about and critique have been brought about because of the “myth of the empty wilderness”, and that FNMI treaty rights must also be considered.


The pedagogical approach in this section of the supplementary activity is a placemat activity. It begins with the framing question -“How do I feel about the City of Toronto’s proposal to develop a new __________ in my neighbourhood?” - then provides a list of eight LULUs: casino and hotel development; incinerator; group home for youth with addictions; rail transit extension; landfill site; homeless shelter; new jail; and bicycle lanes. Each LULU is given four roles with ostensibly different viewpoints. Generally, they include some variation on the following: “local citizen”; “local business”; “person or group employed by, or requiring the services of, this LULU”; and “advocate connected to this LULU” (Livsey and Paglia, 2010). It is immediately evident that none of the placemat activities have even a cursory FNMI presence, nor do they acknowledge that the land being developed is subject to a treaty. One example is that of the homeless shelter. In the middle of the placemat, the reader finds a description of the issue as follows: “The City of Toronto proposes to place a homeless shelter in your neighbourhood that will provide housing for 120 men.” The four corners represented in the placemat are: “Local Resident”; “Social Worker”; “Local Business Owner”; and “Homeless Family”. While a teacher or student could extend any of these roles to have an FNMI component, the visible exclusion of explicit FNMI voices is problematic. Thus, a reimagining of the placemat activity is proposed. An additional fifth quadrant is added to the original four, changing the shape from a rectangle to a pentagon. This visually disrupts the “for/against” dialectic of the original placemat and suggests more conversational space than simply “right” or “wrong”. The tile previously titled Local Resident is reimagined as Settler Resident. This shift attempts a critical peacebuilding approach to agitate the foundations of presumed knowledge, hopefully creating chances to find connections in intersubjectivity (Tupper, 2014). The new fifth quadrant is titled Indigenous Community to have teachers and students meaningfully confront their own relationships with, and perspectives of, that community in the context of civic education. Finally, the explanatory centre tile is reworded to included the phrasing of Toronto’s land acknowledgement, as well as statistics on the percentage of Ingenious peoples who make up the homeless population in Canada. In this way, students no longer view the land as my community but as hereditary land of local FNMI peoples, that is occupied by their settler selves. The concept of NIMBYism is thus challenged as students and educators rethink the entire concept of the “backyard”. This reworking could be applied to any of the eight placemat activities in this resource, as none of them explicitly incorporate FNMI perspectives.




Reimagining – Ontario Grade 10 Civics Curriculum Expectations


A cursory search of the Ontario Grade 10 Civics Curriculum for key words and terms such as First Nations, Metis, Inuit, Indigenous, FNMI, or treaty provide scant representation. The phrase First Nations, Metis, and Inuit is used once in specific expectation C2.1: “analyse ways in which various beliefs, values, and perspectives are represented in their communities”; in the teacher prompts, it is suggested as an example alongside LGBTQ+ politics, environmentalism, disability rights, and other standards of identity politics. The word Indigenous is used only twice – once in the glossary reference to “indigenous species” of plants or animals. (ONTARIO) Suffice it to say that as it is currently written, the Ontario Civics curriculum does not adequately represent FNMI peoples or treaty rights.


In order for treaty education to be made visible in the curriculum, and for it then to be transmitted to schools, teachers, and students, it must be concretized in language. As such, a reconceptualizing of the language in the specific curriculum expectations is required. Below are some suggestions for how to proceed with selected expectations:


Current Curriculum Language

By the end of this course, students will…

Revised Curriculum Language

By the end of this course, students will…

B1.1 – Describe some civic issues of local, national, and/or global significance

B.1. - Describe some civic issues of local, national, and/or global significance, including treaty obligations in Ontario

B1.2 – Describe fundamental beliefs and values associated with democratic citizenship in Canada

B1.2 - Describe fundamental beliefs and values associated with democratic citizenship in Canada, including how the Canadian government and First Nations meet their respective treaty obligations

B1.4 – Communicate their own position on some issues of civic importance at the local, national, and/or global level

B.14 – Communicate their own position on self-governance and its relation to treaty obligations

B2.4 – Explain, with reference to issues of civic importance, how various groups and institutions can influence government

B2.4 – Explain the role of the Indian Act of 1876, the Ministry of Indigenous Affairs, and one or more local tribal bands in advocating government

B3.3 – Explain how the judicial system and other institutions and/or organizations help protect the rights of individuals and the public good in Canada

B3.3 – Explain how the judicial system protects the rights of individuals and the public good, and what structures have been developed for treaty implementation

C1.2 – Describe a variety of ways in which they could make civic contribution at the local, national, and/or global level

C1.2 – Understand their position as settlers or settled peoples in the local history of colonization and decolonization, and how that impacts their civic contributions

C2.1 – Analyze ways in which various beliefs, values, and perspectives are represented in their communities 

C2.1 – Analyze ways in which treaty making recognizes the rights and responsibilities of all peoples

 

This new language embeds treaty education into curriculum expectations as opposed to being its own subsection, or an optional activity, thereby reinforcing the idea that Ontario teachers and students are also treaty peoples. By doing so, the curriculum-as-intervention contributes to democratic peacebuilding by “challenging epistemologies of ignorance that deny Aboriginal peoples’ daily experience of colonial oppression” (Tupper, 2014). This, coupled with the challenge to reconceptualize the “backyard” of NIMBYism through the lens of treaty education, reframes official language and, in its own way, works towards acknowledging and making recompense for the structural and symbolic violence perpetuated by the education system against FNMI peoples.


Conclusion – Future Research and its Consequences


Any forecasting on what could or should be done with curriculum revisions in Ontario to include treaty education must, first and foremost, be driven by FNMI communities rather than settlers. In order to frame any next steps for a project such as this, it is helpful to gauge the current climate of civics education in Ontario schools. Llewellyn, et al. (2010) note that “young Canadians are less knowledgeable about politics than any other age group in the country” and that “many young people that they possess neither sufficient knowledge of the political process, nor sufficient political information to be comfortable about voting”. It appears that Ontario educators and students are grappling with a deficit in basic civic competencies. One reason for this may be student disengagement from a curriculum that “only occasionally […] interrogates[s] courses of action that confront complex relationships of power that are fundamental to the democratic process” (Llewellyn et al., 2010). Confronting relationships of power is a ethically fraught task for any educator; many take the less pugilistic route of a pseudo-journalistic approach, covering “both sides” of controversial issues, such as NIMBYism and treaty education, with equal weight and without working through their own biases. Particularly with the Ontario Civics curriculum, engagement with controversial issues is disincentivized in the literature, which instead focuses on objective truths and “accepted” Canadian values. (Llewellyn et al., 2010).


To bridge this divide between the curriculum and the student, policy makers need to grapple with “difficult knowledge” that reconceptualizes commonly-held understandings of Canadian history (Tupper, 2012). One potential course of action is to rewrite all Civics, History, and Social Science curriculum expectations at the secondary level to include, where applicable, elements of treaty education and justice-oriented citizenship. To see if this results in increased student engagement, a longitudinal study would have to be undertaken over a period of several years; student and teacher input over time would be used to make relevant changes to curriculum expectations where needed. To support educators in delivering this curriculum, it would be beneficial to have a database of resources and lessons developed by FNMI stakeholders that teachers could draw from, to both challenge their own place in the settler-settled narrative, and to guide students in doing so as well.


Two challenges come to mind when formulating a long-term implementation of this proposal. First is that of formalizing instruction; whether or not students will be more likely to engage with the material if they pursue it in an independent inquiry model, or if it is part of the prescribed learning goals of a course. It may be difficult for students who do not regularly engage with FNMI peoples to see the relevance of treaty education, NIMBYism, land use, or other subjects that are not immediately evident in their world. Thus, it becomes the challenge of the educator to make evident these connections. Another is the cognitive dissonance of a settler government attempting to teach FNMI treaty rights to First Nations, Metis, or Inuit students, who may have already been traumatized, recently or historically, by their experiences with the colonizing state. Involving FNMI peoples as critical partners in developing treaty education curriculum, and supplementary curriculum documents, will be invaluable in ensuring that policy makers can “reframe citizenship education by developing mandates, teaching strategies, and curriculum materials that go beyond procedural knowledge to the heart of political debate” (Llewellyn et al., 2010).


REFERENCES


Kahne, Joseph, Hodgin, Erica, & Eidman-Aadahl, Elyse. (2016). Redesigning Civic Education for the Digital Age: Participatory Politics and the Pursuit of Democratic Engagement. Theory & Research in Social Education, 44(1), 1-35. 


     Livsey, Stephanie, and Paglia, Remo. (2010). Toronto Municipal Elections: Grade 10 Civics 

            Supplementary Activities. City of Toronto.



      Llewellyn, Kristina R., Cook, Sharon Anne, & Molina, Alison. (2010). Civic learning: moving 

from the apolitical to the socially just. Journal of Curriculum Studies, 42 (6), 791 – 812. 



       McAvoy, Paula, & Hess, Diana (2013). Classroom deliberation in an era of political  

             polarization. Curriculum Inquiry, 43(1), 14-47.



      Ontario Ministry of Education. (2013). The Ontario Curriculum, Grades 9 and 10. Canadian 

                and World Studies: Geography, History, Civics (Politics). Queen’s Printer for Ontario.



Sabzalian, Leilani. (2019). The tensions between Indigenous sovereignty and multicultural citizenship education: Toward an anticolonial approach to civic education. Theory & Research in Social Education, 47(3), 311-346. 


Sant, Edda. (2019). Democratic Education: A Theoretical Review (2006–2017). Review of Educational Research, 89(5), 655-696.


Tupper, Jennifer (2012). Treaty education for ethically engaged citizenship: Settler identities, historical consciousness and the need for reconciliation. Citizenship Teaching and Learning, 7(2), 143-156.  


Tupper, Jennifer (2014). The possibilities for reconciliation through difficult dialogues: 

Treaty education as peacebuilding. Curriculum Inquiry – Theme Issue: Peacebuilding (in) Education: Democratic Approaches to Conflict in Schools and Classrooms, 44 (4), 469 – 485

    

       Wolsink, M. (2006) Invalid theory impedes our understanding: A critique on the persistence   

             of the language of NIMBY. Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers, 31 (1), 

             new series, 85-91.        

Monday, February 17, 2020

Locating Citizenship (Transnationally): Globalization, Place, and Migration in the Digital Age



Locating Citizenship (Transnationally):Globalization, Place, and Migration in the Digital Age


Purposes and Standpoints

               Ghosn-Chelala identifies place-based challenges in digital citizenship education, using post-crisis Lebanon as an example. She analyzes the Lebanese National Civics Curriculum (LNCC), designed after the end of the civil war for the purpose of building a social accord and national cohesion. She examines the equity issues inherent in providing digital citizenship education in a post-crisis area, as well as the “two lives” approach students lead – since they have little or no access to digital services in their schools, students’ perceptions of digital citizenship are formed outside the school. This, combined with the political cynicism Ghosn-Chelala describes in post-crisis Lebanon, leads students to de-value the aforementioned digital citizenship framework in favour of whatever best suits their needs. Her response to these findings includes suggesting that the civics curriculum be focused on competencies, not rote memorization
          
     Khane, et al., define “participatory politics” as groups of people attempting to influence issues of public concern. Examples of this include social media posting, blogging, petitions, etc. Citizens under the age of 18 cannot vote and are thus often excluded from policy processes, leading to frustration with traditional systems of governance; therefore, participatory politics is a means for these citizens to engage in the political process outside institutional norms, through creating their own spaces. Khane, et al. refer to these groupings of extra-normative civic actions as “connected civics”, often brought about as a result of a shared interest in “lifestyle politics” such as vegetarianism, gun ownership, or other public political stances. The authors note an increased prevalence of participatory politics but little in the way of recognition, analysis, or support from traditional models of citizenship education. Their solution to this, and the aforementioned issues, is to have students focus on analyzing facts to avoid controversy, and to embed equity and diversity issues into the civics curriculum.
       
        Yu discusses the concept of guanxi as a system of relationships in a group with shared connections, and how that is reflected in the experience of migrant parents and teachers in China. Guanxi in migrant schools has offered the 35 million migrant students in China not only schooling but housing, child care, reduced fees, and community gathering spaces. Yu notes that this system of activism cannot be called “oppressed” because it is that oppression which allows it to function, and slowly shift the collective identity of migrant students, parents, and teachers.
      
         Dryden-Peterson outlines the development of refugee education through the UNHRC in three phases: only supported locally; centralized within UNHRC and focused on refugee camp schools rather than community schools; and finally, establishing links between local departments of education and the UNHRC to increase funding and integrate refugee children into local schools. She notes that despite the doctrine of citizenship, refugees are not citizens and use citizenship not as a goal, but as a means to obtain recognition, legitimacy, and rights.

             

Theory and Evidence

               Ghosn-Chelala conducted research at 17 public schools in 2015-2016, covering 4 of 8 geographic areas in Lebanon. Her qualitative surveys included 156 students from Grades 6 – 9, and 184 students from Grades 10 – 12. Khane, et al., draw their evidence from the 2013 Youth and Participatory Politics (YPP) survey, which assessed over 2,300 students aged 15-27. They compared these findings with the Pew Internet American Life surveys from 2008 and 2012, which had roughly the same number of participants. Yu draws on longitudinal qualitative research in Beijing, using ethnographic studies, interviews, observations, and her own guanxi network from five communities across six districts from 2010 – 2016. Dryden-Peterson bases her historical overview in part on the 2016 UNHCR & Global Monitoring Report.



Application and “So What” ?

              Ghosn-Chelala notes that the civic engagement of students in post-Crisis Lebanon is often limited to “posting and sharing” social media accounts of being a good citizen. Direct engagement with concepts of good digital citizenship is lacking, due to, as the author suggests, inequitable funding and access to technology in schools. Her solution of making digital citizenship a cross-curricular concept is interesting, but raises concerns about practicality and execution. It also raises questions about the role of schools as transmitters of civic responsibility – is it the purpose of the government-written curriculum to reproduce existing systems of power? Is there space in the concept of citizenship for speaking out?
            
   This is in contrast to the evidence I see of participatory politics at work with the students I teach, although they may not identify it as “political” per se. Particularly in the tumultuous labour environment brought on by the Ford government, my students are constantly networking to discuss how cuts and strikes affect their education and their future; several of my students participated in “walk-outs” in 2019, that were all organized online. Whether or not I agree with these views and actions, my employer makes it clear that I must remain neutral in the face of their execution. Perhaps this is an area where civic education needs to partner with NGOs who are not beholden to the same ethical guidelines as classroom teachers. However NGOs have their own agendas and own sponsors to whom they are beholden, which may or may not align with the needs of any particular student. Here the idea of an informal guanxi-style community network could mitigate any extraneous agendas held be external actors, assuming that a grassroots community would have its own best interests in mind.


Comparison and Synthesis

               Ghosn-Chelala’s findings seem to run counter to the views offered by Khane, et al. While Ghosn-Chelala finds that students in post-crisis Lebanon use digital access for superficial attempts at citizenship, or piracy, Khane, et al. have a more optimistic view of participatory politics as an incubator of students as change agents in their own digital spheres. What strikes me is the common sense of disengagement that youth feel from their governments. Students turn to their online worlds to exercise new forms of power as citizens – either subversive, as with Lebanese youth as IP pirates, or self-affirming, as with the lifestyle politics of participatory politics. This suggests to me that youth have the desire, the motivation, and the skills to be actively engaged citizens but are doing so in a way that is more and more removed from traditional concepts of citizenship.
          
     Both Yu and Dryden-Peterson examine non-Western concepts of community and civic engagement, or lack thereof. The guanxi networks Yu delineates could be compared to the online spaces carved out by students identified in Khane, et al. but in a less public way. Dryden-Peterson draws attention to those for whom citizenship is a goal in a very different sense than what the Ontario civics curriculum discusses. Whether in local schools or in segregated camps, refugees are forced to navigate differing concepts of citizenship without being given the same supports or conceptual frameworks offered to their peers who have citizenship. It is an interesting and important reminder that the very notion of citizenship is not absolute. 


WORKS CITED


Dryden-Peterson, Sarah. (2016). Refugee Education: The Crossroads of Globalization. Educational Researcher, 45(9), 473-482. doi:10.3102/0013189X16683398

Ghosn-Chelala, Maria. (2018). Exploring sustainable learning and practice of digital citizenship: Education and place-based challenges [Lebanon]. Education, Citizenship and Social Justice, 1-17. doi:10.1177/1746197918759155

Kahne, Joseph, Hodgin, Erica, & Eidman-Aadahl, Elyse. (2016). Redesigning Civic Education for the Digital Age: Participatory Politics and the Pursuit of Democratic Engagement. Theory & Research in Social Education, 44(1), 1-35. 

Yu, Min. (2018). Rethinking Migrant Children Schools in China: Activism, Collective Identity, and Guanxi. Comparative Education Review, 62(3), 429-448.

Thursday, December 26, 2019

Students Transitioning from Section 23 To Community-Based School Programs

Final Evaluation Design:

Students Transitioning from Section 23 To Community-Based School Programs


Background
    
The Ontario Education Act enshrines the right of youth to have access to an education, regardless of whether or not they are physically present in a community-based school. This type of programming include homeschooling, but more often refers to in-risk students whose needs cannot be met by a traditional school setting. These specific programs are referred to as Children and Youth In Care (CYIC), or Care, Treatment, Custody and Corrections (CTCC) programs. The common umbrella term for these programs is Section 23, which is the aforementioned section of the Education Act. 

A 2016-2017 review found that in Toronto, there are 63 different Section 23 programs with 734 spaces, generally operating at 80% capacity (East Metro Youth Services, 2017). These programs, whether providing short- or long-term care, aim to reintroduce their students into community-based schools whenever possible. Part of this process involves creating transition planning that focuses on gradual reintegration, as well as providing information and support to educational staff at both ends of the transition (Ministry of Education, 2016). 

Research shows that these transitions are not always effective. Youth drug treatment programs, for example, find that 47% of their students resume full drug use within one year of their transition, and that the transition time is when they are at highest risk for relapse (Finch, Lawton-Krupp, and Moberg, 2014). Children’s aid programs found that students considered the transitions “jarring” and did not make connections with their community school, especially those transferred to a new school boards (Directions, 2017). Regardless of the type of programming, many transitioning students felt hindered in their progress by stigma and a lack of preparation for post-secondary education. (Directions, 2017)

Situation
       At any given time in Toronto, there are hundreds of children and youth who are transitioning between community-based schools and Section 23 programs. These transitions vary in terms of length, rationale, number of instances, quality of supports offered, and rate of success. For a variety of reasons, including the high turnover rate of CYIC programs, there is little data available to indicate how successful these transitions are in both the short- and long-term. 

Policy Problem
       There are several reasons, at the institutional level, that could contribute to poor transitioning for students in Section 23 programs. One is that there is a lack of research that specifically focuses on children and youth in care and treatment programs. The result is that policy for these children is often designed around research for in-risk students in general, as opposed to in-risk students who cannot be housed in a community-based school (Directions, 2017). Another potential reason is the perceived lack of communication between the different agencies involved in programming for these students. The program goals of the various ministries involved are not aligned, and there is significant ambiguity around who is responsible for the implementation and success of these programs. (East Metro Youth Services, 2017) Finally, there are limited resources available for both the sending and receiving programs. Staff in community-based schools feel they are not equipped to handle the needs of these transitioning students (Directions, 2017), which can lead to the students being kept longer in the Section 23 program not for any discernible need, but simply because the receiving school needs more time to prepare. (East Metro Youth Services, 2017) This puts an additional strain on the Section 23 system and, more importantly, the in-risk student.

Literature Review
       Leonard and Gudino (2016) hypothesize that students who move schools frequently - in this population sample, due to being involved in foster home care - experience social stress which can negatively impact their academic success and social networks (Leonard and Gudino, 2016). Of the 420 students in the research sample, taken from the National Survey of Child and Adolescent Well Being (NSCAW), 72% had been in at least 2 different schools during the 36 month study period; 46% had been in a minimum of 3 different schools (Leonard and Gudino, 2016). Interestingly, the authors found that there was no statistically significant correlation between home instability and school engagement with these students, findings which Leonard and Gudino note do not match the existing literature around the subject (Leonard and Gudino, 2016). Another possibility is that the act of removal from a home is not necessarily a negative factor if that home is a source of trauma for the student. The authors note that “if youth removed from home can have the benefit of remaining with familiar teachers, established social networks, and familiar settings, children may have the [ability] to have their emotional needs met.” (Leonard and Gudino, 2016) This study shows that moving between programs is not necessarily inherently detrimental to student academic success and mental health, but reinforces the idea that the transition must be managed carefully.

       Blake, et al. (2016), examine the Bridge for Resilient Youth in Transition (BRYT) program model at Brookline High in Brookline, Mass. In essence, this program provides a school-within-a-school transition for students coming in to or out of school due to not only mental health issues, but also concussions or any other serious health issue requiring hospitalization. (Blake, et al., 2016) The authors found 6 similar programs across the state. Collectively, three-quarters of the students enrolled in these BRYT-model programs were concurrently in out-patient hospital programs, while 73% had at one point been fully or partially hospitalized for psychiatric concerns. The expectation for students in the BRYT-model programs was that their transition period would last between 8-12 weeks; the median stay in the program was 10 weeks. (Blake, et al., 2016) The study found that these programs were highly successful. Student participation in the program began on average at 75% in the first week of admission but was down to 17% in the final week. The authors frame this as a positive, as it indicates students relying less on the program and being able to integrate themselves back into the school over time. (8) This would, however, as Blake, et al. state, require a team of teachers-slash-mental health practitioners who have not only clinical expertise “but also a caseload and schedule that allows them the flexibility and time necessary to help students navigate the academic, emotional, and social challenges they will inevitably face” with transitioning back to school. (2016)

       Simone (2017) provides a qualitative counterpoint to the more quantitative Leonard and Gudino article by interviewing multiple students who were housed in psychiatric facilities, then transferred to BRYT-style programs across Massachusetts. These interviewees, ranging in age from 15 to 19, each identified key issues vis-a-vis reentry: concern over the perception of their peers during their attempt to reintegrate, and their worry that they would be unable to catch up with their courses. (Simone, 2017) Interestingly, these students all reported that having intake meetings with hospital and school staff helped ease these stresses. Completing their school work gave them a positive sense of accomplishment. This was facilitated through a variety of means, including: smaller class settings in the BRYT program; teachers giving accommodations or modifications to the late assignments, or simply removing them; and a continual focus from staff on reintegration, not staying permanently in BRYT. Simone also notes that these students had a better rapport with their teachers once the cause of their “poor behaviour” had been demystified. In line with this is the fact that although these students continued to struggle with mental health issues, they eventually saw school as a place where they could practice coping mechanisms and management strategies, rather than a place to be avoided at all costs. (Simone, 2017)


Lens - Sense Making & Co-Construction 
(Datnow and Park, 2009)
Foregrounding
       When viewing this issue through the sense making and co-construction lenses, the issues that are foregrounded are whether or not a student can successfully transition back into the school community, and the ability of the staff and receiving program to facilitate this transition. Another issue that is foregrounded is how individual schools navigate the return of individual students; each will have their own strengths, weaknesses, and needs that must be addressed on a case-by-case basis.

Backgrounding
       What is least important in this lens is the role of the prescribed curriculum in meeting the needs of transitioning students. The pressures on both staff and students of meeting the curriculum requirements can be more of a hindrance than a help in the case of students with mental health issues.
In The Frame / Out Of The Frame
       With this policy problem, what is “in the frame” is the attempts of the school program to successfully facilitate a transition, and its ability to adapt to changing situations (the student relapsing, changes of medication, etc.) What is “out of the frame” are the decisions made by medical staff in the care and treatment programs - medication, therapeutic techniques, etc. However the sense making and co-construction lens suggests that these hospital contexts need to be considered as well, regardless of their place “higher” or “lower” on the policy chain.

Arena of Action
       This lens indicates that top-down policy is not the only motivating factor in organizational behaviour, and that different interpretations of implementation can occur in different settings. Thus, the arena of action is focused on how individual school programs can design their own policies, based on staff experience, on a school-by-school basis, to best meet the myriad needs of this fragile student population.

Locus of Control
       The locus of control ultimately rests with the school administration, who work with hospital staff to determine the pace and schedule of the students’ transition back to school.

Potential Policy Solution
       One possible policy solution to this issue is to provide funding, resources, training, and staffing to schools specifically for the purpose of creating classrooms devoted solely to transitioning students back from extended hospital stays, particularly for psychiatric hospitalization, into the mainstream school community.

Who has the authority to make changes?
       The authority to provide additional funding lies with the Ministry of Education. Individual school boards would then identify which schools in their area would best put this funding to use based on the needs of their student population. At the school level, administrators would be responsible for staffing the programs, and classroom teachers would be responsible for delivering the programming to support the transitioning students.

Who needs to know about this?
       It could be argued that the Ministry of Education, the Ministry of Children and Youth, and the Ministry of Health and Long-Term Care all have a vested interest in solving this issue; a successful implementation of a solution would reduce the number of youth moving multiple times between hospitals and schools, which reduces the strain on those services. School boards would also need to know, as mental health is an increasingly pressing need in school communities across Ontario which teaching staff find themselves under-equipped to deal with. Parent councils at individual schools may also be a potential audience, particularly if their school has a high rate of recidivism amongst transitioning students; the mental health and successful transition of a student is something that reverberates well outside the classroom, into the home and the hospital program as well. Finally, Section 23 programs and their ilk would need to know as they are at the front lines of balancing the educational and medical needs of students.

Conversations to Consider

       Mental health is no longer the stigmatized subject it once was, although there is still work to be done in this area. It is not a “third rail” issue that any particular political party or level of government would want to avoid; indeed, politicians from across the political spectrum now only speak about their own struggles with poor mental health. Thus, regardless of whichever party is in power or whatever their goals are, this is a policy issue that can gain traction. In a climate of austerity the idea of putting more funding into education, for something that benefits an often-hidden cohort of students, may not be palatable, however, without some societal pressure.

       It is also important to consider that multiple agencies and ministries could potentially be involved in crafting this policy as it cuts across a variety of sectors - namely, education and health care. Recognizing the needs, expectations, and demands of those separate actors would be critical in ensuring a successful implementation of this policy. Teacher unions should also be consulted to ensure that the work asked of teachers, and the conditions of the transition classrooms in terms of number of students, hours worked, personal safety, etc., do not violate the terms of their collective agreements.


Next Steps
       While this policy is geared towards providing assistance for students and staff at the secondary level, there is a considerable amount of work to be done in this area at the post-secondary level as well. A 2017 MacLean’s article found that 15 universities across Canada - including Queen’s, Ryerson, and York - reported students feeling “overwhelmed” between 50 - 60% of the time on a daily or weekly basis. (Hutchins, 2017) The University of Toronto recently found itself embroiled in controversy in June 2018 when it enacted a policy that would allow them to place students with mental health issues on mandatory leave if the school deems it necessary. This policy was met with criticism from multiple student groups, as well as the Ontario Human Rights Commission. (CBC, 2018) Although post-secondary institutions increased their mental health budgets by 35% in 2017, (Bowden, 2018) it is increasingly students who are taking the lead in meeting these needs. One example is Waterloo student Tina Chan, who created kits to help students experiencing panic attacks. The university purchased 7,100 of her kits, which were given to first-year students in the fall of 2018. (Bowden, 2018) This suggests that, at the post-secondary level, a variety of policy approaches ranging from mandates to capacity-building will be necessary to ensure students struggling with these issues can return to their studies in a supportive, structured environment. 


REFERENCES

Bowden, Olivia. (2018, September 3rd). "Students push for mental health support." The Hamilton Spectator. Retrieved from https://www.thespec.com/living-story/8866484-students-push-for-mental-health-support/

Directions Evidence and Policy Research Group, LLP (2017). Evaluation of the Innovative Programs for Students in the Care of, or Receiving Services from, Children’s Aid Societies: Final Report. Toronto, ON.

East Metro Youth Services (2017). Section 23 Working Group Summary: Final Report. Toronto, ON.

Finch, Lawton-Krupp, and Moberg (2014). Continuing Care in High Schools: A Descriptive Study of Recovery High School Programs. Journal of Child & Adolescent Substance Abuse, Vol. 23, 116-129.

Hutchins, Aaron. (2017, April 20th). Are universities doing enough to support mental health?MacLean’s Magazine. Retrieved from https://www.macleans.ca/education/depth-of-despair/

Leonard, Skyler S. and Gudino, Omar G. (2016) Academic and Mental Health Outcomes of Youth Placed in Out-of-Home Care: The Role of School Stability and Engagement. Child Youth Care Forum. New York. 45:807-827.

Ontario Ministry of Education. (2016-17) Guidelines For Educational Programs for Students in Government Approved Care and/or Treatment, Custody and Correctional (CTCC) Facilities. Ottawa, ON: Queen’s Printer for Ontario.

Simone, Daniel J. (2017) “Getting Back To School - Understanding Adolescents’ Experience Of Reentry Into School After Psychiatric Hospitalization”. Doctoral thesis. 50-93. Retrieved from ERIC.

The Canadian Press. (2018, June 27th). U of T approves policy that could place students with mental health issues on leave. CBC News. Retrieved from https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/toronto/university-toronto-mental-health-mandatory-leave-1.4725104

White H, LaFleur J, Houle K, Hyry-Dermith P, Blake SM. (2017) Evaluation of a school-based transition program designed to facilitate school reentry following a mental health crisis or
psychiatric hospitalization. Psychol Schs. 54:868–882.

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