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. I certainly do. That’s why I choose to be honest. I tell the truth. If a kid had a rough day, I say it. If they did something awesome, I celebrate it. I believe parents deserve to know what actually happens—not some sugar-coated version delivered days later through an email, if they’re lucky.
Of course, being honest makes me unpopular with a lot of teachers and administrators. Principals hate it. Some schools go as far as scheduling my breaks at the end of the day to make sure I’m not around at pickup time. They’re afraid of what I might say to a parent—afraid I’ll expose the truth they’ve tried to hide.
And yes, schools do lie to parents. A lot. Especially to parents of students with special needs.
One time, I was supply at a school where I was asked to fill out a behaviour tracker for a student having a rough day. Pretty normal for me. The shocking part? When I mentioned this tracker to the student’s parent—just being honest—they told me it was the first time they’d ever heard about their child needing one. This was four months into the school year.
Naturally, the parent went to the teacher and principal demanding answers. Three weeks later, I get a call from the school’s SERT asking what I told the parent that day. I said I didn’t remember exactly, but that I’m always honest. The SERT didn’t like that answer. She admitted they hadn’t told the parent anything—and now they were “up her ass” about it. Apparently, my honesty “ruined” their whole setup. My bad, I guess?
This isn’t a one-off. I’ve heard principals say things like, “Don’t worry about telling the parents—he’s non-verbal, so we’re good.” Let that sink in. That’s your school leader deciding that because your child can’t speak, they don’t deserve the truth.
To every parent reading this—especially those with children who are non-verbal, vulnerable, or have special needs—please hear me: You are not getting the full picture. You are not being told everything. Ask questions. Demand answers. Push hard for the truth.
EAs are often the only ones who actually see what’s going on. But the system tries to silence us. They treat us like warm bodies, not professionals. They don’t trust us to speak, even when we’re the most involved adult in a student’s day.
I became a supply EA to have more control. When I walk into a school as a guest, I speak freely. I tell parents the truth because someone has to. And if the system doesn’t like that? Tough.
We’re not just here to follow orders—we’re here to support kids. And part of that means supporting their families with honesty and respect, even if no one else will.