Simon and I had the most amazing encounter this past weekend.

Having decided -- after a recent "Spooky Lagoon Tour" -- to conduct his history fair research on the Island community's history, and having successfully convinced his school partner to join him in this quest, Simon approached me for some support.  It wasn't a hard sell; I've always been a fan of the Toronto Islands, and finding out more seemed closer to  fun than "homework"!

Tumbling down one rabbit hole after another on the Internet, I finally stumbled across the Island History Project (tihp) online, and contacted someone with my plea for a "primary source", preferably an interview with an islander, for my son and his school partner.

I was soon exchanging emails and phone calls with a fellow who had lived on the island in the 40s, and who was now living in the US, but still in touch with his old community.  He was willing to set Simon and his friend up, and shared our contact info with two gentlemen who still lived on the island, one of whom was none other than Jimmy Jones, the guy whose stories had sparked Simon's interest in the first place!

Not long afterwards, we arranged to meet the two elderly islanders at one of their homes on a Sunday afternoon.  In the end, Simon's school friend couldn't make it, so Simon left him to do some book research, and he and I set out alone on the gloomy November weekend to purchase our ferry tickets and visit the large park that tourists usually reserve for sunny, summer day trips.

 We said good-bye to the city, and boarded the ferry bound for Ward's Island, armed with 6 scones and a jar of jam from one of our favourite bakeries.

Peter and Jimmy proved to be spry in both body and spirit, and we spent a delightful afternoon together, listening to stories that covered considerably more territory than the few questions Simon and his partner originally had in mind.... Simon jotted down what he could, and I listened intently. 

We learned that Centre Island's park-like Avenue of the Islands was once a bustling main street of a real town, complete with restaurants, several grocers, a pharmacy and all manner of other businesses, a fact I later confirmed in more detail by further intrigued googling at home!  And while there is a lot written about the "wealthy" families who built summer homes on the island, both men confirmed that all sorts of people lived on, worked on and visited the islands, and further, that when the houses started to be demolished (the City claimed it needed the space for a large public park -- despite the copious amount of parkland already available and in use on the site), it was not the wealthy families who lost their homes first... if at all. (The exclusive yacht club, for example, was never touched -- it stands and is used to this day!)

They told us stories of how the city had started their demolition derby with the town on Centre first, coring out the community's backbone, so to speak, before moving westward and then eastward towards Wards Island, where both Jimmy and Peter presently lived.  It was a sobering moment when both men recalled the impact on many families of being evicted from their homes, or of the threat of having their homes demolished.  The fight was a long, hard one, and one not without a few casualties.

On a more upbeat note, Jimmy also told us that many of the homes still standing on that part of the island had been built from materials that came in a pre-fab kit, ordered directly out of the Eaton's catalogue - he remembered a time when both Eaton's and Simpson's had several deliveries a day from the city to the islands.  (A house could go up in a weekend, added Peter, noting that it helped if you had several friends and a little beer.)

He recalled with fondness the rich and vibrant communities that had existed all along the island, including many details from the amusement park and Baseball diamond on Hanlan's Point, where Babe Ruth had hit his first professional home run, and where the busy airport I now fly out of stands (much to many islanders' chagrin).  Jimmy's dad had been a clown at the amusement park; his mother had sold tickets at the ticket booth -- that's how the family arrived there in the first place, and Jimmy has lived there ever since. (85 years, as he told us, and Simon did the math to make sure!)

Both Jimmy and his neighbour (and our host) Peter were engaging and lively story-tellers, who had a remarkable number of details crammed into their heads.  One got the feeling that there was probably no question about the island's history that either one or the other couldn't answer... and we asked many.

Simon, fairly quiet during our visit other than the questions on this list, seemed greatly affected by his interaction with the two men; he chattered with me afterwards about his impressions, and seemed quite pleased at having met Jimmy in person, recognizing the asset of such a meeting to both his school project and his personal development as a Torontonian.

Taking our leave from our host and his guest, we headed back to the ferry docks, Simon and I, and I reflected on how fortunate newer islanders are to have access to such a lively wealth of information about their beloved home's past still living in their midst.  Those lucky enough to have not lost their homes in the dramatic city seizure of the 60s and 70s now live in community with an eclectic mix with fellow "old islanders" and newer converts, islanders "by chance" in some cases thanks to the now-35-year wait list/lottery.

The island has certainly changed over the past hundred years, both geographically and politically, and to be able to learn the island lore from someone who has been through the bulk of those changes in-person is truly a treasure!

As we boarded the ferry back to the city, I gave Simon a little squeeze. 

​Although I'll probably never realise my own dream of living on this particular island, I'm grateful for our fairly regular day trips here, and in particular, I feel a tremendous amount of gratitude for the opportunity to sit in on this unique aspect of my son's history fair project research.  I sure learned a lot.

By the way, if you're keen to learn more about how the Island was formed, geographically speaking, check out this 2012 article from Blog TO!

One of the "perks" of my current job is that I get to travel, occasionally.  Nothing exotic, all provincial, but nevertheless, it's fun to interact with people in different contexts, and I also find that when spending time with my colleagues outside the office (e.g. at dinner near the hotel, etc.), I gain a better understanding of different pieces of the collective work we do. 

Plus, it's always great to be in the milieu of the various airports across the province, and see big planes up close!! 

That being said, there are times when the novelty wears off...

Work-Life Balance

A challenge when booking flights at the end of a day in the field is finding the balance of early enough to still get home to tuck the kids in (many of our locations are less than two hours away by plane) and late enough to allow for a sense of availability to the people we serve in the regions (i.e. not appearing to be desperately rushing to the airport to get out of there!)

On a recent trip to Sudbury, my colleagues and I took different approaches to this game:  Our "day" ended at 3:15, and the airport was a good half hour drive from the venue.  Nevertheless, some folks booked themselves onto the 4:05 p.m. Porter, thinking they would just compress lunch and leave the site early to get to the airport on time.

Others booked a 5:30 p.m. Air Canada, knowing that if they left the venue promptly at the end of our session, they would still make it to the airport in time to clear security before boarding started.  Still others booked the more conservative 6:40 p.m. Westjet, wanting to take into account possible driving delays due to the weather north of Toronto.

​What ensued felt a little like the amazing race, to see who could get home first... or at all, as it turned out!

Flexibility

As the day unfolded, we began to recognize the need to end a bit early, in order to accommodate participants who had driven in from North of Sudbury.  As flurries began falling outside, news of icy roads and accidents on the highways began to make people nervous.

In collaboration with our participants, we modified our lunch and break plans,  and ended the day in time to allow people who were driving to get a healthy head start.

Hitching a ride with some colleagues who were booked on the 4:05 p.m. Porter flight, I, too, fled to the airport. I was hoping to get into an earlier flight if possible, but failing that, I was prepared to do some work in the waiting area, as I had brought my laptop with me.

But as we stepped out of my colleague's rental car at the terminal, we suspected our journey home would not be as quick as we were hoping for: It was super icy and slippery, and also extremely windy!

Weather, Weather, Weather

As a private pilot, I know how significant a role weather can play on whether and when an aircraft can land or depart.

Sure enough, not long after checking in, the delays began to be announced.  First it was my Westjet, delayed from 6:40 to 7:20 p.m.  Frustrating, but understandable.  Next, the people I had been having an early supper with at the airport restaurant noted that their Air Canada flight, too, had been delayed, though not as much as the 4-o-clock Porter, which had not even landed yet (it was 4:45 at this point).

When we went downstairs so that my 5:30 friends could deal themselves into the security line game, we found out that both the Porter and the Air Canada had been circling overhead, waiting for the winds to calm down and for the runway to be cleared and sanded, so that they could land safely.

As my colleagues worked their way through security, I wandered over to the window to watch the proceedings.  The Air Canada landed, passengers disembarked, and the aircraft was fueled up and prepared for a quick turnaround.  A few grateful colleagues and other passengers scrambled aboard, and the plane soon departed. 

The 4-o-clock Porter, meanwhile, had turned back to Toronto! (We knew before the announcement was made, as another colleague was set to arrive on that flight, as she had some business in Sudbury the next day.) Apparently the winds had been too high to land safely, and the aircraft was returning to CYTZ for a crew change; they'd try Sudbury again later that night, around 9 p.m.  (It was now just after 6!)

Winning the Lottery

As my Porter colleagues came streaming out of the post-security waiting room to get dinner and settle in for a long evening, I reflected on how lucky I had been to be booked on the Westjet.  No sooner had that thought crossed my mind, however, when a  voice over the airport loudspeaker announced that the Westjet flight had been canceled.

Canceled!  Not further delayed, but completely C-A-N-C-E-L-E-D!!!

I wanted to cry!

Wandering over to the ticket counter, I ran into some other colleagues who had also been booked into that flight; they were just arriving at the airport, and thought I was joking when I greeted them with the news that their trip here had been in vain.

Another Night in Sudbury

The group of us got into the ticket counter line; a Westjet agent printed boarding passes for the 6 a.m. flight the next morning, and sent us on our way.

Back into a cab we climbed (this new group of colleagues were gracious enough to add me to their number), and back towards the hotel we had so recently left.

Happily, the hotel was able to accommodate us, and by a little after 8 p.m., we were tucked into our rooms for another night away from home.  I was pretty tired, so after logging into my work email to rearrange some morning meetings I'd no longer be able to attend in person, I crawled into bed, hoping for an early night (the alarm was set for 3:30 a.m., to make the 4 a.m. taxi back to the airport, and I wanted every second of sleep I could get!)

Alas, it seemed there was to be no rest for me: My room backed onto a church of some sort, and several large, deep bells rang loudly and distinctly every hour on the hour. 

When the church bells finally stopped at 10 p.m. (I guess the parish had determined that even the most devout ought to be granted a few hours of uninterrupted silence each night to sleep), I gratefully set out to get every minute of the approximately five hours that stood between me and the 3:30 a.m. wake-up call. 

Unfortunately, fate had other plans.

As luck would have it, I appeared to be in a room next door to a particularly amorous couple, who were eagerly vocalizing their late night enjoyment of one another in the adjoining room.  Reticent to bang on the door and interrupt their Sudbury hotel tryst, I stuffed some earplugs into my ears, and attempted to block out the strange sounds next door.  They were VERY loud, though, even with earplugs in, and I was enormously grateful when the more noisy one of the two seemed to have been depleted somewhere around midnight, and I could finally sleep...

... for an hour and a half!!!

Shortly after 2 a.m., my insatiable roommates started up again!

This time I did bang on the door between the rooms, and they seemed to have gotten the hint, because after some giggling, things quieted down, and I was able to squeeze in another 45 minutes or so of sleep.

The Light in the Darkness

Too early the next morning, I joined my colleagues in the lobby -- it appeared they had all had far less eventful nights, having found their rooms to be in a quieter part of the hotel -- and we eagerly piled into yet another taxi for yet another drive to the airport!

It was pitch black out, even by the time we arrive at the terminal.  But out of the darkness there arose a bright light, and that light was our aircraft, prepared for departure.

Our fatigue not withstanding, we took comfort in the knowledge that we would soon be on our way home.

The Grass is Always Greener

After forcing myself to stay awake for a morning of meetings which I attended virtually when I arrived home, I cashed in some lieu time in the afternoon, and slept.  Without church bells or noisy "personal" sounds to interrupt me, I felt the luxury of a good chunk of sleep.

The following week, I shared my tale of woe with anyone who would listen and feel sorry for me; after all, even the delayed folks had gotten to go home the same night, albeit much later than anticipated.  And the others who had stayed had not been auditorily traumatized as had I!

But I soon met my match: A gal who had come off the twice delayed Porter aircraft that same night for an even the next day had ended up in the same hotel where I had stayed -- but she'd been assigned the wrong room by the not-so -helpful reception staff, and when she opened the door to her room upon arrival late that night, someone was already sleeping in the bed!!!

                                                             *          *          *
In the not-so-amazing race, it's not only time that counts, but also quality of delay.  Many points can be awarded for a wide variety of unique and exiting circumstances, keeping the work-travel game interesting and full of adventure, no matter when you may land or how mundane your travel destination may originally appear.

Growing Success, Ontario's provincial assessment policy, is a bold piece of work. Released in 2010, it was, in some sense, a policy ahead of its time.  It's a visionary document, and Chapter 4 in particular is a key factor in my decision to leave my board employer of nearly 20 years and move to a permanent position at the Ministry of Education last fall.

With today's Ministry foci on Equity and Well-Being, the 7-year-old assessment policy embodies much of the "how", for educators who understand and implement it effectively. (Good grief, Growing Success 2010 specifically mentions the word "equity" no fewer than 10 times, and includes the following statement: "The policy outlined in this document is designed to move us closer to fairness, transparency, and equity"!)

Ahhh, but there's the rub: Understanding!  For some reason, despite pockets of excellence throughout the province, a great deal of misunderstanding about assessment evaluation persists, nearly a decade after the policy's release.

As both an Education Officer with the Ministry of Ed., and a parent of two school-age children, here are three misunderstandings I see most often in my work with Ontario's educators, including school leaders:

1. Feedback should be Provided to Students at the End of each Assignment

Perhaps one of the most powerful strategies within our reach as educators is the development -- ideally with students -- of criteria that describe the desired demonstration of learning, and the provision of feedback to describe learning, so that students know where they need to be, where they are at, and where to go next.  When and how to provide said feedback, however, is sometimes a challenge for educators.

The first time Growing Success mentions descriptive feedback is on Page 6, as part of the seven fundamental principles on which the policy is based:

If feedback is to be "ongoing", it needs to happen more than once.  And if it's to be "timely", then feedback can't wait until the end of the learning cycle to reach the eyes and/or ears of the students working on demonstrating learning. 

​Indeed, on page 28, the policy states,

The term "coaching" speaks to the ongoing nature of feedback, and implies that students will have an opportunity to apply feedback to their work.

Below is an interactive image, made with Thinglink, to describe where and how descriptive feedback fits into the assessment process:
​

The timing and nature of descriptive feedback seems obvious to me now, but as a classroom teacher, I will confess that it was the thing I struggled with the most, when it came to assessment.  It took me a long time to get over my implicit bias that allowing students to apply the feedback I had given them to a piece of work and resubmit that work for evaluation was "cheating". 

​It wasn't until I became involved in the early years of theStudent Work Study that I began to realise the true value of feedback, and to use it effectively to improve student learning.  (It was also then that I gleaned a better understanding of the distinction between assessment and evaluation!)

Providing feedback at the end of the learning cycle, after an assignment is submitted for evaluation, is in some sense useless.  The average student won't read it, and if there is no opportunity to apply the feedback to improve the work, why bother?

2. Group Assignments are Easier to Evaluate

Speaking of reducing my workload, as a classroom teacher in the throes of giant classes, I often turned to group assignments, not just because I believed in the power of collaboration, but also because I hoped for an easier time "marking the work".   Alas, as Growing Success points out,

This became a real conundrum for me, as I mined the internet, colleagues' resources and my own understanding to find or develop tools for tracking student demonstration of learning on group assignments. 

By no means brilliant or perfect examples, nevertheless, a few of my favourite attempts, below...
​

I will say this: An understanding of triangulated data (described in more detail below) helped me better discern each student's demonstration of skills and understanding from that of the whole group.  Rather than focusing on the finished product, I constantly listened to and observed students working, providing feedback and adjusting my teaching as needed.

3. Test in King, at least in Math

A lot of educators (and parents, for that matter), appear to be under the impression that -- especially for subjects like Math -- the most reliable way to discern what students know is by having them write a paper and pencil test.

While tests can be one way to gather data, Growing Success invites us to consider the plethora of ways students may demonstrate their understanding.  From page 34:

Teachers can gather information about learning by:

• designing tasks that provide students with a variety of ways to demonstrate their learning;
• observing students as they perform tasks;
• posing questions to help students make their thinking explicit;
• ​engineering classroom and small-group conversations that encourage students to articulate what they are thinking and further develop their thinking

This was no more clearly demonstrated to me than in a Grade 6 class where I had the pleasure of spending my final year before heading to the Ministry: Dolores (not her real name) was a strong student in mathematics.  I knew this because whenever I observed her working on a math problem in class, I could see and hear that she understood the concepts quickly.  She used relevant math vocabulary (despite English not being her first language), and reasoned her way through even the toughest problems, often explaining them to her peers by sketching out a diagram to show how something worked. 

But when it came to math tests (yes, even in my final year in the classroom, I still resorted to these occasionally!), Dolores froze.  

The learning demonstrated on the pencil and paper tests she handed in could at best be summarized as level 2, approaching provincial standard, while all other evidence consistently pointed to a thorough understanding and communication of mathematical concepts (Level 4). 

This reinforced for me the messages I had hither-to been preaching as a former school vice principal, board instructional coach, and school level colleague. The truth of differentiated assessment was confirmed for me in the classroom, and I applied this truth to my assessment practice with all students, finding ways for them to show me what they knew and could do.

As pointed out on page 39,   

Imagine if I had only used quizzes and tests to evaluate Dolores' understanding in math class:  Her performance on these product demonstrations would have belied the strong mathematical understanding that lay beneath her test anxiety, and I would never have known what a bright thinker she was!

These are by no means the only misunderstandings alive and well in classrooms across the province, but I hope the above blog post dispels at least some of the more common myths about assessment and evaluation in Ontario, and encourages a more practical discussion of assessment for learning and application of equity and well-being strategies for students. 

As a former colleague at the Ministry used to point out, "we're not self-employed, people, and the policy is not invitational!", ie. we don't get to follow it only if if we want to.  A better understanding the policy can keep us out of hot water as public educators, and as an added bonus, actually enable us in doing a better job of supporting equity, well-being and academic achievement for all learners.

Lucky me!

Not only did I get to learn how to fly airplanes, but I got to learn at one of the most amazing airports in the world, City Centre.

As its name suggests, City Centre or CYTZ, is pretty much in the centre of the city of Toronto. Actually, more accurately, it's right in the centre of the city's waterfront.

That means, whether landing or departing, you always have the CN Tower, SkyDome, and other well known bits of the Toronto skyline in sight.

It also means getting to fly circuits along the edges of the Toronto Islands, one of my favourite places to be on the ground in this lakefront city that I call home.

I've romped around the beaches and paths of these islands since I was a toddler. But flying overhead gives one a new perspective, and every time I'm on downwind looking out the window when I should be doing my downwind checks, I fall in love with this richly historied urban treasure all over again, and I'm never quite sure whether I love it more from the ground or from the sky above!

Soon enough, though, I'm turning on base, and depending on whether it's runway 08 or 26, I've got a new set of landmarks to focus on: Ontario Place and the new Trillium Park on the one hand, and the ferry docks and Toronto harbour on the other, take centre stage as I reduce power, put down my flaps, and get ready to turn final.

It's kind of amazing, actually, that these old tin cans from the 60s and 70s even fly at all (I remember early on in my flight training, noticing a piece of what looked to be duct tape holding a bit of the empennage together; I was assured by my flight instructor that this was completely safe) -- indeed, the inner panel of these old 150s and 172's look more like something from an antique roadshow than modern machinery that can effectively defy gravity!

But somehow they do fly (even when imperfectly piloted). And soon I'm on short final, fiddling with attitude and airspeed to get just the right profile for the round out, flare and touchdown.

I know there are many amazing places to fly in the world, and the life of a pilot is the life of someone who constantly sees new landscapes. Nevertheless, for flying circuits, I think you'd be hard-pressed to find a cooler spot to fly than city centre airport in Toronto, Ontario!

Flying commercially has presented a special thrill for as long as I can remember.

Everything from the view while boarding the aircraft, to the take off roll, to the spectacular cloud porn out the window at altitude gives me a feeling of excitement.