Transformative Educational Leadership Journal | ISSUE Spring 2024
Just when Lys had given up on school as a grade 10 student, one curious and compassionate teacher opened up an entirely new pathway to her. Curl up with the story of how Lys ended up a school principal, despite nearly dropping out of school herself. This story demonstrates the ripple effect leaders can have on the dignity and options afforded to the youth in our care.
By Lys Paredes
School was always something I did to get to something else, a path I needed to take to get to my true destination. When I was young, school gave me access to food, community resources, and social connections to begin to understand Canada, the new place my family and I came to from Chile as refugees. School was a constant, as we moved from place to place, province to province, looking for work and opportunity, not always finding ourselves in safe places or circumstances. I lived in uncertainty.
As I grew, it became obvious that school was not a place where I saw myself or my life experiences reflected. I felt pressure to assimilate, to be part of the dominant culture. There was no space for me to share my identity or for teachers to understand the trauma that was part of my story. This realization taught me to keep things to myself, to survive and stay hidden. As classwork became less about topics I found interesting, and more about things I had to do to graduate, my disinterest deepened and school’s irrelevance grew. Classes about how to write a cheque or how to make an apron weren’t meaningful for me; I lacked stable housing and struggled with food security.
No one seemed to be concerned about why I didn’t come to school or why my parents did not seem to be around. From a young age I was responsible for two younger siblings, as my parents worked around the clock to try and make ends meet at minimum wage jobs. I was by default the caregiver and protector. I woke them, got them to school, wore the weight of their problems.
I attended school to connect socially with peers – it was a break from my responsibilities at home. I always made lots of friends, but no one really knew me or what was happening at home. My grade 10 year was full of expected behaviours for kids with no anchor: skipping, fighting, avoiding most assignments, hanging around with kids who had dropped out and gotten involved in shady situations and gangs.
On the last day of classes that year, I opened my report card to find that I was recommended for summer school and was slated to attend an alternate program in the Fall. No one had spoken to me about it beforehand; no one had asked me if I was okay or if I needed something. Assumptions about me and my potential were made. They did not know me but had decided I was difficult and would need to go to the alternate program where the problem kids go, the one where very few finish and most eventually fade away. So I made some decisions for myself. I would go to summer school to finish Grade 10 English. Then, I would quit school. I knew my parents were not going to do anything to me, nor would they have the skill set to advocate for me. It was just done.
A week later, I stepped into the English 10 class at summer school, ready to finish it well, knowing it would be my last class. I did not have anyone I knew in the class but I did not let that stop me because I wanted to finish English. Ms. S. made the learning interesting over the next few weeks. She made connections from the material to our own lives. We would read passages and she would ask us to think about what this could be about, making it relatable. I really enjoyed her instruction and how she connected with us. I did really well in her class.
On the last week of classes, she casually asked me where I was going to attend high school. I shared with her that I was not. I had been recommended to attend an alternate program, which I was not going to attend, that I just wanted to finish English 10 before quitting. She asked me more questions, and she listened. I left that day and thought nothing of it, aside from wondering why she had asked.
The next day, I was approached by the vice principal and asked to come to his office. When I came in, Ms. S was sitting there. The VP shared that Ms. S. has asked about me because I was one of the top students in her class. He also shared that she was teaching summer school but is normally a counsellor at one of the high schools. He told me that she had spoken to him and her principal, and they would like to offer me a probationary spot at her high school for Grade 11. I would not need to go to the alternate program but was expected to regularly attend at the high school. I was surprised by the offer and accepted it. I don’t remember if I even said thank you as I left, in shock about how quickly my path had changed.
I finished the rest of the class, knowing that I would now be able to finish high school. I have spent a lot of time thinking about what would likely have happened had Ms. S. not cared. She went above and beyond to create a bridge for me. She came from a place of wondering, her willingness to ask me a question, to know me, all led to me having an opportunity to move forward with dignity and options. To find my path towards something better. This opportunity did not mean I became a stellar student, but, once I got to Grade 11, I found more teachers I could connect with. I kept pushing along, barely passing, but I knew I could finish… because someone had believed in me. Ms S. had planted a seed. She made me start to believe in myself, to believe I had options. When I did graduate in my 6th year, I had no idea what I wanted to do but I had made it. This seed, years later, allowed me the confidence to enroll in college as an adult student.
As a leader in my current context, I feel an enormous responsibility to create a wrap-around approach for how we help kids, see them, speak to them, and support them. This moral purpose pulls me to do better. The more chances I have had to engage in meaningful district committee work and suggest actionable items for moving forward, the more resistance I have witnessed because of subtle but deeply entrenched practices. The colonial system we are a part of benefits some and ignores others. I wonder about what role I play in that now.
As leaders we can add or remove possibilities for students. We make the change in the world we want to see, even when the work is hard.
In my work now I wonder… How do we get more diverse voices as part of senior leadership in our district? How do we help more students make it with more options in meaningful ways?
My learning journey has taken many turns, and I will keep learning. I have recently been accepted to begin my Doctorate in education. As a leader now, I strive to share more of who I authentically am to create space for others like me. My sharing of story makes me feel vulnerable, yet this tension in me has given me strength and has allowed me to grow, and adapt. I can now be brave as I share that I still live with uncertainty. I am fueled by my sense of curiosity and the relentless inquiry mindset that drives my leadership.