The Silent Assist

EAs to Parents: What We See, What We’re Told to Hide! Working as an Educational Assistant (EA) in Ontario has taught me a lot, especially when it comes to the relationship between EAs and parents. And let me be clear right away—this relationship doesn’t work the way it should. And the reason? Teachers and administrators. EAs are the ones who spend the most time with your child. We’re often the first to see a meltdown, the first to offer support, and the last one standing when everything goes sideways. We know your child’s day better than anyone in the building. Yet, we’re told to stay silent. When a parent asks, “How was my kid’s day?”—we’re trained to deflect. We’re instructed to say, “You’ll have to talk to the teacher about that.” Even if the child was aggressive, violent, overwhelmed, or had a huge breakthrough—we’re told not to say a word. And that silence doesn’t just make us look incompetent. It makes us look like we don’t care. But we do. In fact, most of us hate this policy...

When the Union Fails the Frontlines I was told that education would help me move up. I believed them. I paid out of pocket for certifications in behaviour, learned how to create braille materials, and studied sign language so I could better support the kids who needed it most. I showed up every day in classrooms that were chaotic, violent, and under-supported — because I loved the job and wanted to make a difference. And for a while, I thought the system saw that. Until I applied for a specialist EA position. I was the most qualified. I was the most senior. And based on how the union always tells us the system works — it should’ve been mine. But the board gave it to someone else. No explanation. I filed a grievance. The union’s response? “In some situations, the board can decide a certain worker is better suited for the role.” I was told I was better suited for a larger, more violent student — because I’m a big guy. That’s it. Not because of my training. Not because of my qual...