Rooted in Knowledge
Choosing Culturally Responsive and Relevant Resources: Centring Student Knowledge
When we design our classrooms to truly reflect the richness of the diverse lives our students lead, we must remember that knowledge is not one-dimensional or fixed. Knowledge is cultivated, it is grown, it is personal. In this work of teaching, we are not just imparting facts, but facilitating a blossoming — a deepening of understanding that speaks to students’ lived experiences, their families, their ancestors, their cultures, their identities, and their future.
Decentering “Whiteness” in Curriculum
Birth of a White Nation: Jacqueline Battalora
Before reading this section, please begin by watching the above lecture by Jacqueline Battalora.
“Whiteness” is a construct and was constructed with a specific purpose in mind. Although this should help those who are “white-presenting” recognize their role to play in dismantling systemic racial oppression (and hopefully override resistance to this subject matter), it does not absolve any of us from responsibility and accountability in abolitionist education. “Race” is a construct, but racism and its impact in the lives of staff, families, and students is very real. Education is the most important means by which we unlearn falsehoods and retrieve the fullness of the human experience and knowledge to impart to the next generation. Colonization is at the root of so much harm — racism, ableism, sexism, ageism, transphobia, homophobia, classism. In order for colonizers to maintain moral supremacy while committing the most horrific atrocity, they had to invent a means of viewing the Other as inherently inferior. Enter the Doctrine of Discovery. Enter false racial science and eugenics. Racism became the excuse for colonial violence, it legitimized the atrocities under the pretence of liberation and horrific paternalism that revoked the agency and autonomy of human beings worldwide. “Spirit murder” is committed everyday and is a continuation of that legacy of violence and oppression. When we disrupt the colonial mutation, when we cut one of the heads off of the white supremacist Hydra and cauterize it so it cannot grow back, we see the light come back. I see it in the eyes of my students when the lesson I am teaching them brings some spark back into their spirit that ignites a passion for learning, for knowing, for being again. This is the work of being, as Anita Tijerina Revilla says in her article Attempted Spirit Murder, a “Spirit Protector” and a “Spirit Restorer.” I highly recommend the work of Dr. Bettina Love to explore the impact of this concept further in the classroom and in oneself.
I will never forget the look of joy on one of my student’s faces as I told him about my love of Sun Ra and he exclaimed how his father was a huge lover of Sun Ra’s music. This led to a deeper conversation about Afro-futurism, Malcolm X’s autobiography, and resulted in the student writing the must incredible paper on Harrison Bergeron my department had ever read. The student explained how the villains of the story were guilty of what white liberals tend to do, forcing equality without equity. When his teacher from last year inquired why he had not written like this while in her class, he shyly said that he had not been sure if he would have gotten in “trouble” or if perhaps he was wrong in his interpretation. This moment changed our department and reignited a deeper commitment to culturally responsive education in a way I cannot express. Imagine if we can create this kind of cultural and relational safety for all students in every classroom?
The foundation of much of our education system was built upon a monocultural Eurocentric frame. This was intended to obliterate and assimilate the thousands of years of knowledge of Indigenous, Black, and racialized people globally. Culturally responsive teaching doesn’t simply mean adding more diverse texts or celebrating “multiculturalism” for a month. It is about radically questioning who has ben allowed to define what knowledge is, and what has been excluded from that definition.
We must ask: Whose stories, histories, and experiences have been erased or marginalized or diminished in the way we teach?
Reframing our curriculum means looking beyond the canon of singular Western thought and bringing in perspectives that are often overlooked or dismissed as “Other.” Many times, if you dig deeper, you will learn that the assumption of Western knowledge has been stolen or reproduced from Indigenous knowledges worldwide. One of my favourite examples to share with colleagues and students alike is the Indigenous history of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs and how this came directly from the Siksika Nation. I recommend clicking the links provided because the concept of self-actualization being at the centre as opposed to the top of a pyramid is directly grounded in the subject of cultural responsiveness as to why it is so important for educators to ground their knowledge outside of the Eurocentric lens. If self-actualization is our inherent being to begin with, then why do we need a hierarchy? Should not everything encircle around us to support that self-actualization? How we change the story changes our reality.
How do we make space for Indigenous ways of knowing, being, belonging, and doing? For oral histories? For the knowledge embedded in daily life? For the complex lived experiences of our students? It’s about more than representation — it’s about transformation. Transformation of ourselves, our classrooms, and our students as we model the impact of culture and its transformative possibility in opening up our capacity for knowledge and expanding our worldview.
How can we turn the very structure of the classroom into a space where knowledge is not just shared, but is decolonized, unearthing what as been buried for too long?
Some knowledge, it is important to note, has not been buried or lost but is hidden to protect its sacredness. It is important to respect protocols when engaging with cultural practices of knowledge sharing and learning. Grounding your work in land-based learning and serving the communities that have stewarded and lived with the land you educate on is crucial in embodying the spirit of culturally responsive and competent education. There is no fast-track to this experience — this enriching process should be savoured and explored with patience, grace, and humility.
Learning with Students, Not Just for Them
When we engage in the process of learning, it should not be a transaction — it should be a relationship.
One that is reciprocal, where students are not passive recipients, but active co-creators of the learning experience. When we centre students as the experts of their own lives, we acknowledge that their experiences — no matter how divergent from the so-called “norm” — hold immense value in shaping the educational landscape.
It is important to understand how the “norm” is the consequence of assimilation, erasure, and marginalization. The word “normal” has its roots in white supremacy, racist science, and eugenics. Deviating from the “norm” is not radical, it is natural. Nature proves that nothing is “normal” — it is universal, beautiful, and inspirational beyond words.
In our classrooms, students must see that their voices, their cultures, and their identities are essential components of the knowledge we engage with. This is not only about inclusion — it is about collaboration. It’s about moving from a mindset of “diversity as an addition” to a mindset of “diversity as a necessity.” In this co-creative space, we must also challenge the idea that the teacher’s role is only to give answers and be a figure of authority. The teacher’s role is to ask questions, of themselves and their students, that invite students to think critically about their world, their identity, and their potential. When we approach learning as an exchange of knowledge, we begin to see education not as a means of transmitting information, but as a means of transcending and growing together in understanding.
Interrogating Your Own Biases
The most difficult work often lies within the self. As educators, we must hold up a mirror to our own biases, assumptions, and beliefs. These hidden prejudices shape the way we interact with our students and the materials we bring into the classroom. Who do we consider to be “academic”? Who do we think of as “intelligent” or “capable”? Our perception of students — and of the resources we bring to the table, including ourselves — can either affirm or diminish a student’s sense of self-worth and perpetuate a narrative that needs to be disrupted.
This is why I’ve stopped calling “microaggressions” microaggressions. I now refer to these as exclusionary behaviours, as there is nothing “micro” about the Hydra those aggressions stem from and are allowed to perpetuate within. I am, however, a huge proponent of what Loretta J. Ross calls “micro-affirmations.” More of those, please!
The work of cultural responsiveness begins with us. It requires us to look inward, to examine the ways in which we may unconsciously privilege certain ways of knowing, certain ways of being. It requires us to ask ourselves:
What do I bring into the classroom that could perpetuate inequality?
What unconscious assumptions do I carry about my students?
Only when we are aware of these biases can we begin the true work of creative an inclusive, empowering learning space. This isn’t about being “perfect” — after all, if we’re waiting to be perfect before we do what is good and right, we will never rise to the occasion. This is about being honest, reflective, and committed to growth. It’s about holding space for discomfort as we challenge long-held beliefs that may no longer serve us or our students.
Honouring Students as Co-Creators of Knowledge
When we are intentional about choosing resources that reflect the lived experiences and cultural identities of our students, we send a powerful message: you matter. This is why the science fiction work of Octavia Butler has always spoken to me. Butler stated, when she noticed that Black characters were erased from science fiction: "I wrote myself in, since I'm me and I'm here and I'm writing," reflecting her intentional inclusion of Black characters and experiences in a genre often lacking such representation. She examined how tropes such as time travel become complicated when the protagonists are impacted by racism and its horrific and intertwined legacies of ancestral exploitation and oppression integrated with one’s lineage and intergenerational traumas. I would always have Butler’s quotes in my classroom as her statements on leadership and diversity were not only cross-curricular but all-encompassing.
The books, activities, the histories we bring into the classroom all speak volumes about what we value. By choosing resources that reflect the experience of racialized students, queer students, working-class students, students with disabilities, and others who are often marginalized due to these intersections and horizontal oppressions, we tell our students that their stories and voices are not only worthy of being heard but of learning from and with.
This work does not just benefit marginalized students from equity-deserving communities — it elevates all students. When we broaden the scope of knowledge we bring into the classroom, all students gain a deeper, more nuanced understanding of the world. For “white” students, this work can help them understand their own positionally, acknowledge the history of privilege, and learn how to be active disruptors and co-conspirators to the friends they love and have been connected to since kindergarten. I have seen many students embody this role and the look of sheer joy at recognizing they can remove the false guilts and replace it with actionable and loving support and care to their friends and the communities they belong to is so empowering. Their parents have reached out to me not to accuse me of indoctrinating their child, but to inquire how it is that their child is more equipped to discuss the complex issues of the world with more depth, awareness, and knowledge than they feel incapable or ill-equipped to discuss as their guardian (one parent humorously asked me to send them my lessons and documentary recommendations in advance — not to surveil me, but because they needed to stay ahead of their son’s newfound knowledge and enthusiasm for the subject of Social Studies at the dinner table, which went from staring down at phones to engaging dialogues the entire family loved and enjoyed). When students are exposed to perspectives outside of their own lived experience, they gain empathy, critical thinking skills, and the ability to engage with complexity — all of which will become more crucial in our world. This does not just make them more informed — it makes them more human, more connected to the global community in ways that will serve them far beyond the classroom.
Ultimately, teaching is not just about giving students the answer. It is about creating a space where knowledge is shared, co-created, and ever-evolving. It is about showing them that learning doesn’t happen in a vacuum — it happens in conversation, in relationships, in deep listening, and in radical vulnerability. We cannot be so afraid to “mess up” that we cease to try; as educators, we must remember that every mistake is an opportunity for another lesson where we can model for our students what a sincere apology looks like, what accountability is, and how consistency can repair harm when done with humility and grace. It is in this space where we make room for the full diversity of human experience that we truly begin to create classrooms where every student feels seen, valued, and capable of thriving.
These kids will save us if we let them. Culturally responsive teaching is not a checklist — it’s a practice, a mindset, and a commitment to learning alongside our students. As you choose your next book, lesson, or classroom discussion, ask yourself:
Whose knowledge is missing?
Whose voices need to be centred?
How can I create a space where all students feel seen, valued, and heard?
The work is never finished, and that’s the beauty of it. Keep questioning, keep evolving, and most of all — keep rooting your practice in the lived experiences of the students you serve.
Yours rooted in justice and growing in community,
Ms. K
