Tag: online learning

A new way to teach reading 

Lisa Gelberman (photo courtesy)

Over the years, Toronto-based educator Lisa Gelberman saw a consistent problem with the education system: it did not address the fact that a third of students in North America have various reading difficulties. 

“When kids struggle academically, they struggle behaviourally, they struggle socially, and long-term success becomes more unlikely. It’s a huge spiral,” said Gelberman, principal at Kayla’s Children Centre (KCC). 

In her view, the need was so great to help those falling through the literacy cracks, that she took matters into her own hands to find a way to solve the problem. Over time, she developed an online reading program called Literacy Decoded, which launched in 2022. Its aim is to train teachers to support students with learning disabilities, dyslexia and other developmental delays. Several Toronto Jewish schools (including Bais Yaakov High School and Eitz Chaim Schools) have purchased the course and adopted its curricula. She has sold it to hundreds of educators across North America. 

Comprising mostly Jewish students, KCC is a school, therapy clinic, recreational centre and camp for children with special needs, and some students, including those who have extreme delays, have learned to read because of the program.

“The Jewish community sees the importance of supporting children with learning disabilities and dyslexia,” Gelberman said. “There are going to be fewer kids leaving the Jewish school systems for secular schools, because now their own schools have the training and resources needed. Now their needs are being met and [the program is] changing their educational outcome,” she contends. 

The mother of five began her career as a teacher at a public school, teaching first grade for three years, then, having taken various course qualifications, she began teaching special education. Later, she led a class for students with learning disabilities, dyslexia or severe ADHD. Afterwards, she taught children with autism. 

“I was always very passionate about teaching children to read,” she said. “Developing curricula and exploring different paths to teaching kids to read is my purpose.” 

Up until about five years ago, Gelberman said, most schools across North America used a methodology called the “whole language approach.” But a full third of children do not pick up reading from this method, she argues. “So, kids struggle, and I just knew there’s something I had to do about it.

“Every year,” she continued, “I got so close to teaching this one child to read [but] he came back after the summer and it was like everything I taught him was lost. I didn’t understand why. That’s when I started to look for other programs to help.”

She discovered the Orton-Gillingham approach, and, on her own dime and with a year-and-a-half of study, she became certified to teach it.

After being hired by Kayla’s, Gelberman applied the Orton-Gillingham methods with the institution’s kids and found success in teaching children who previously had found it incredibly difficult to read.

Building upon the program, she videoed her own son, who showed signs of dyslexia and was having trouble reading, learning with the approach and used it to show teachers and parents how to implement it.

“He’s jumped three grade levels in six months. And even his teacher at the time couldn’t believe it,” she said.

“And that’s how I actually was able to improve upon the program…. I was training the teachers, and other schools were asking me to come in [to do] staff training, but I simply didn’t have the time. So, I decided to develop a course of my own.” 

image - Lisa Gelberman has created an online teaching program, Literacy Decoded, based on the Orton-Gillingham method. (image from Lisa Gelberman)
Lisa Gelberman has created an online teaching program, Literacy Decoded, based on the Orton-Gillingham method. (image from Lisa Gelberman)

It was important for Gelberman to gear her own program towards Jewish day schools, which she claims have fewer resources, in general, to divert to kids who are lagging. Particularly for the Jewish community, she’s made a special effort to ensure the content – words and images – is appropriate. 

According to Gelberman, the two years of remote learning during COVID made the program more relevant and needed, given how so many children who require in-person interaction to absorb materials were denied this interaction during a critical time in their learning.

“I’m just so happy that the children who would have fallen through the cracks are now able to read,” she said, adding that KCC children are being mainstreamed, when they ordinarily would not be.

Four years in development, “huge pieces” of Gelberman’s program do not involve memorizing words, nor looking at pictures, tools she said have been relied upon heavily as teaching aids. Instead, in her course, what seems to work is the sounding out of words, learning different sound combinations, and learning syllable types.

The program is asynchronous, that is, it proceeds at the teacher’s pace, and each lesson is through video, so the lessons feel “live.” In addition, Gelberman offers monthly coaching sessions with teachers, where they share with each other their struggles and problem-solving methods.

“I truly feel the right training from the right teachers can and will teach kids to read,” she said. 

Dave Gordon is a Toronto-based freelance writer whose work has appeared in more than 100 publications around the world. His website is davegordonwrites.com.

A livelihood, not a hobby

So enthralled am I by the sheer volume and calibre of free online Jewish learning opportunities since the start of the pandemic, that I sometimes forget that the people who do the teaching do it as their livelihood, not as a hobby. Therein lies the problem.

We, the students, the partakers of all manner and sorts of online classes and lectures during COVID, gobble up the learning as though it’s candy, or fine wine. We sit in front of our laptops, tablets and smartphones and act for all the world as though we deserve this high level of education. It should rain down upon us. We’re Jews. We’re the People of the Book. We’re entitled. Teach us!

Make no mistake: we are blessed to be the recipients of this stratospheric level of dedication, and we should not and cannot take it for granted.

But, sometimes, we forget.

We forget that the rabbi or rebbetzin or Jewish scholar or educator who is teaching us needs to feed their family and pay their bills. We forget that we need to support them just like they support us. Too often, we blithely go on learning from week to week, month to month, blissfully ignoring this reality. Yet, we expect a paycheque. Or a pension check, if we’re lucky. Why shouldn’t they?

Zoom classes have become as common as dust since the beginning of the pandemic. Every Jewish religious and/or spiritual organization I can think of is offering Zoom classes weekly, if not daily. They have filled the gaping holes that once were our thriving, healthy, “normal” lives. These same Jewish organizations recognize the desperate need for some kind of normalization, some sort of lifesaver for people to hang onto. In the absence of our daily routines of work, socializing and gathering together as a community, there is little left to celebrate, never mind sustain us. Local synagogues have leaped into the abyss to lift us all up, or those of us who needed lifting, anyway. They have rallied together to create curricula, offer Torah classes, general Jewish study courses, podcasts, livestream videos and so much more. Not only because it’s the source of their livelihood, but because they feel our desperate need, the soul’s yearning for Jewish learning.

There is enormous comfort in seeing others – even if only virtually – and knowing that we are studying Jewish topics together, learning as a community. The overwhelming isolation felt by so many people right now is beyond description. The personal losses, the devastating repercussions from COVID-19 can’t be counted. Our lives have been turned upside down in every way imaginable. And then some. But learning offers hope.

Sure, everyone copes differently with the pandemic, but anybody who says they haven’t been affected by it is just plain lying. Being the adaptable creatures that we are, we take comfort (or relief) where we can find it. For some, it’s food, or alcohol, or Netflix. For others, it’s learning. And, for others still, it must be Jewish learning. Something draws us – something draws me – to our heritage, our history, our Judaism. And, suddenly, we are home.

Myriad times, sitting in front of my computer during or after a Zoom class, usually given by a rabbi, I find myself weeping. Partly as a release from all the stress and anxiety I’m feeling right now; but mostly from a deep sense of gratitude. Gratitude that we, as a community of Jews, haven’t been forgotten. That, amid the detritus of COVID, our faith leaders have intuitively known that we need help, that we can’t do this on our own. So they step up to the plate, full of enthusiasm and inspiration, and they fill us up. Not only do the classes inform us and expand our brains, but they benefit us by keeping us moving forward in a meaningful, purposeful way.

So, why am I writing all this? To remind each and every one of us, myself included, that we should be menschen and pay the favour forward. Pay it, literally, to every rabbi and rebbetzin and Jewish scholar or other educator who shares not only their time, but their wisdom, to help us get through this pandemic in the most meaningful way they know how. Make a donation. Show you care. Make as many donations as you’re able. Big or small, the act is a sign of appreciation. A sign that we value the learning. A sign that we know little, and yearn to know more. A sign that we appreciate their caring, knowing that they will do anything in their power to help. And G-d knows we need it right now. So, whatever we do, we shouldn’t forget to support those who support us.

It would be the century’s grossest understatement to say that I’ve learned a lot during the pandemic. Sure, I’ve learned immeasurable things about human nature and caring and compassion. But I’ve also expanded my Jewish learning a hundred-fold, maybe a thousand-fold. The pandemic has given me the time. But those doing the teaching have given me the inspiration, the foundation, the thirst for more. Instead of being overcome with hopelessness, I’m filled with hope. I see a pattern to life, a way out of this. That is no small thing. We need to pay it forward. Or pay it back. Either one will do.

If there’s a global sense of helplessness pervading much of what we do these days, we can counteract that by not only feeling grateful, but showing it. It could be construed as crass to say that we should pay for our Zoom classes and livestream lectures and podcasts. So be it. Call me crass. It wouldn’t be the first time. Just get out that credit card and do the right thing.

Shelley Civkin is a happily retired librarian and communications officer. For 17 years, she wrote a weekly book review column for the Richmond Review. She’s currently a freelance writer and volunteer.