 As a new school year begins, we often find ourselves caught between excitement and overwhelm. The pressure to dive into content, meet benchmarks, and manage classroom behaviors can be intense — but if we don’t start by attending to students’ emotional safety, sense of belonging, and personal stories, everything else will be harder than it needs to be. This month, I’m launching a "Beginning of the Year" blog series designed to help you lay the groundwork for a trauma-informed, culturally responsive, and relationship-centered classroom. We’ll explore practical strategies for establishing routines and structures that support students holistically, and we’ll share simple, meaningful activities to get to know the young people in your care.  Here’s what’s coming:
Structures and Routines at the Start of the Year
 At the end of the school year, I was supporting a science teacher who had a newcomer in her classroom — a student, she explained, who “didn’t speak a lick of English.” She wanted to know the best way to support her. After a few questions, it turned out this student had actually been in the U.S. since the beginning of the year, had a well-developed L1 (Spanish — which, notably, shares many linguistic components with English), but still wasn’t vocalizing in the language of instruction. When I entered the room, I quickly spotted who she meant. The student sat at a lab table up front, alongside a boy who was happily translating every word for her. My task that day was to model how to engage students — including newcomers — in structured conversation. But as I got started, I noticed that everything I said was being auto-translated onto the screen via some app or extension, alongside the conversation frame I’d prepared. “Would you mind turning the translation off?” I asked the teacher. This isn’t an unusual request for me. I often find myself requesting a pause in translation from paraprofessionals or even other students in classrooms. “Before you translate, ask if they understand first.” Or: “Let’s give her a chance to listen and see what she can pick up.” I do this because I’m about to give students loads of comprehensible input — language paired with context, visuals, gestures, and clear scaffolds for low-stress output. That might sound like something as simple as a sentence stem: ‘One good thing is…’ and practicing it together. When I explain this to people outside the field, their faces can sometimes reflect horror. “How could you? Seventh grade science is overwhelming even for English speakers!” Paradoxically, I actually share their concern. At the same time that I ask for a pause in translation, my skin crawls when I hear an adult admonish students: “Speak English!” when they hear them using their heritage language to make meaning.  So where’s the line?
It’s a question I am often asked in my consulting work: When should we use translation? Here’s my answer: Use translation as a tool — until it becomes a crutch. The challenge, of course, is recognizing the difference. When to Use Translation (and When Not To) So — when should we use translation? Here’s what I encourage teachers to keep in mind when working with newcomer students: 1️⃣ When You First Meet a Newcomer: If a student has been in the U.S. for less than three years and is still developing their language production, welcome them in their home language. Even if your accent is rough, the effort communicates something powerful: Your language and culture belong here. Use an app if you need to. This lets students breathe a sigh of relief that you’re not expecting them to perform in English before they’re ready. Keep translation going as you build connections: “What do you like to do? Do you have any brothers, sisters, or pets? I have two cats — see, here’s a picture of them.” It’s a simple, human gesture that lowers the affective filter and invites relationship. 2️⃣ To Build Background Knowledge: Use translation intentionally to prepare students for what’s coming, or to help them process it afterward. I once had a newcomer with strong literacy in Mandarin. Before her science class began a unit on body systems, I assigned her a YouTube video in Mandarin covering the topic (after previewing and vetting it myself). Then, she could re-watch the English version in class with translation turned on afterward to reinforce understanding. This can also look like a pre-read or post-read of a text in their home language. I love Dr. Salva’s example of a student named Uri who did this on his own — imagine if his teachers had helped make that possible. - Dr. Salva's Video on Rapid Literacy - 3️⃣ To Allow Students to Show What They Know: Another powerful strategy is reverse translation. Instead of always translating input for the student, invite them to express their understanding in their home language, and then you use a tool like Google Translate or Google Lens to check comprehension. For example:
In that same 7th grade science class I referenced in the beginning, when the teacher asked students to take out a pencil, the newcomer did it instantly. She understood far more than anyone assumed. General Guideline: These aren’t the only times translation is appropriate, and thankfully, tools like Dr. Merica Clinkenbeard’s translation flowchart offers helpful frameworks for decision-making. - Flow Chart on Padlet - It’s a Dance. Ultimately, using translation with multilingual learners isn’t a formula — it’s a dance. One where we read students’ cues, sometimes misstep, and adjust. The point is this: language learning isn’t something students experience in isolation, through AI and apps. It’s a collaborative, human process. We need to give students moments of productive struggle, balanced with support — and always with the message that bilingualism isn’t a barrier to overcome, but a superpower to celebrate. It is March. Your class is settled and you are either gearing up for (or in the midst of) State Testing. You have been working with your multilingual students all year, and they are ready. Just as you breathe a sigh of relief and find your footing, the announcements come: a new student from out of the country is waiting in the office for you. Then another, and another. Now the question becomes, how do we integrate these newcomers into the class and curriculum when they are so far behind the language levels of their peers (who have been here all year)? The answer is so simple and intuitive it almost feels too easy: allow beginning language learners to express themselves through pictorial representation, then leverage co-created text to engage them in all four language domains. In our middle school newcomer class, we followed the on-level language arts curriculum, with a lot of scaffolding for language level. The essential question for a unit in the sixth and eighth grade curriculum was, “What is a challenge that you have overcome?” We reworded this question to: “What has been hard?” And, “What ‘wins’ have you had?” One little girl from Korea (Jenna) wanted to tell the story of her new puppy. I wasn’t sure how a new puppy was a challenge, but Jenna insisted on her chosen topic (via Google Translate), so I let her write about it. She did, after all, know the word “puppy.” Other students had a different task. If multilingual students had been with us all year, they would have responded to the grade-level prompt in a narrative essay format. We asked newcomer students (like Jenna) to put the events of their story into panels, like a graphic novel, and then add dialogue bubbles. They knew exactly what we were talking about because Manga was a favorite genre during our silent, sustained reading time. Students’ first attempts at pictorial expression were rough drafts. They tried their best on the dialogue bubbles, and some included a few words from their heritage language if they did not know the word in English. We took the draft through the writing process, using peer editing on the dialogue bubbles to help it make sense.  After students published their graphic novels (in color with the edited dialogue bubbles), I conferenced with them individually while other students continued work on their narrative essays. I pointed to the pictures and asked students to use circumlocution (talking around the unknown word they wanted to describe) to try and explain what was happening in the panel. I used a whiteboard to write down my words so they could see them, and if we really got stuck, Google Translate (in a word-to-word fashion) was the last resort. For Jenna, I pointed to Panel 9 and asked, “What is happening here?”
“Puppy…bite.” Jenna responded after a long pause, pointing to herself “Good job finding the words!” On the whiteboard, I wrote: “The puppy bit me,” and explained to Jenna that we were going to put the verb “bite” in the past tense because the puppy was not biting her at that moment. I did not explain why “bite” became “bit” (this would come later). I just wanted to give her as many reps as possible speaking, reading, and writing the language. Jenna copied these words onto an index card and practiced re-reading these words fluently. We developed three to four sentences this way so that Jenna could speak enough to describe her graphic novel to a partner. Having enough English to do so felt like a necessity in this newcomer class, in which English was the only common language. Jenna made fast progress in her English through engagement with all four language domains: listening (with comprehensible input), speaking with circumlocution, and reading and rewriting co-created texts. Pictorial representation is also very effective with science labs, history document-based questions, and explanations of math processes. How can you use this activity in your own classroom? See my padlet for more examples: https://bit.ly/DCRpadlet  Since beginning my career in education, I have been using the “jigsaw method” without truly understanding its purpose and origins. In practice, my version looked like this: one student would read a section of the text, another would read a different piece, and each would teach their section to the other. While this approach involved solid teaching strategies, it wasn’t a true “jigsaw classroom.” It missed the essence of the original intent and left out a crucial component of the method. The Origins of the Jigsaw Classroom Psychologist Elliot Aronson developed the jigsaw classroom in the 1970s to foster collaboration and unity among students from diverse cultural backgrounds following school desegregation in Texas. Aronson discovered that the jigsaw method transformed classroom culture from competitive to cooperative. When students had to rely on each other for success, they began to view their peers as allies and supporters. To explore more about the history and impact of the jigsaw method, especially for students learning English, visit this resource. Key Steps in the Jigsaw Method Dr. Aronson’s method is structured into 10 essential steps. While I had implemented some of these (e.g., organizing students into groups of 5-6 and assigning leaders), I realized I was missing several key elements. Here are the steps I overlooked: Step Three: Divide the Entire Lesson into Segments Each part of the lesson should be broken down into distinct segments, not just the text and the reading portion. Then, assign each segment to individual students within a group. This ensures that each student has a unique piece of information to contribute beyond just reading. Step Six: Form Expert Groups Create temporary “expert” groups where students who have the same segment meet to discuss and deepen their understanding of their part. This step helps students become confident in their knowledge before teaching it to their original group. Step Ten: Graded Assessment Conclude the process with a graded assessment on the material. This element makes the collaboration high stakes, and motivates students to depend on one another for success, reinforcing the importance of teamwork. Why the Graded Component Matters Including a graded assessment emphasizes the value of each student's role and makes collaboration essential. When students know that their understanding and contributions directly impact their performance, they are more invested in the process and their peers' success. By incorporating these missing elements, educators can ensure they are using the jigsaw method as intended—building a classroom culture rooted in cooperation and mutual support. I can think of no better time to support collaboration across divergent perspectives in the classroom than today.  Many teachers have successfully provided a space for students to open up through Google Forms, which sometimes feels anonymous for students. The information gathered on these forms helps the teacher understand what may be behind certain student behaviors (such as laying their heads down on the desk and not engaging in conversation), or alert the teacher to the pressures a student may be experiencing within their peer group. Discovering the backstory helps teachers feel more compassion for their students and get to the heart of the issue when students do not perform academically as hoped.  Here is a sample google form that you may adapt to your grade level and student population. Use it at the beginning of the year (perhaps a month in), and then provide a similar survey near the end of the year to see if any improvements have been made. Strengthen engagement by providing pictures for each question, keep wording simple, and offer a variety of responses (rather than requiring students to type out complete sentences). The purpose of this form is quick social emotional feedback for teachers, not an opportunity to grade students’ writing. Perhaps often one or two questions per google form. Here are some basic questions:
In an eighth-grade poetry unit, students truly opened up about themselves when supported through the following activity, which I learned about from a fellow teacher, Gianni Fiannaca. While this was used in an eight grade ELAR class. It can be adapted for a variety of grade levels or content areas. Here is the assignment:   Hello friends, I hope you're savoring the arrival of fall and weaving in routines that keep you energized and passionate about our vital work—welcoming and empowering culturally and linguistically diverse students. For me, that routine is running. At 45, I’ve come to realize I’m built like a spirited mare, and I need to hit the trails daily to both release and generate energy. Running not only recharges me but helps me show up fully for those I support. Some days, my "trails" take the shape of an airport terminal, but wherever I am, I find a way to lace up and get moving.  My friend Irene recently asked, "How do you stay motivated when you just don’t feel like it?" I smiled, and shared a little wisdom I picked up from Nancy Motley’s Small Moves: “I put on my shoes and tell myself I can walk for 30 minutes if I’m not feeling it. Once I’m out there, seeing others pushing themselves, I usually pick up the pace." There’s an elderly gentleman I see regularly on my runs—he doesn’t know it, but just seeing his consistent presence inspires me to stretch my own limits. Community is powerful. We often have no idea the impact we’re making on one another, yet that silent support can fuel us in ways we don’t always recognize.   I love a good 3-in-1. A hydrating lip shine that also delivers color and can be used as a cream blush? Yes, please. How about a sunscreen that soothes my rosacea, and includes a bit of tinted coverage? Most definitely. My husband likes to take the 3-in-1 too far. He showed me this 13-in-1 product on Reddit he was considering purchasing. I’m glad it doesn’t exist! What if we could do this same thing in the classroom? Deliver lessons that align with our content standards, support language development, and coach students in emotional literacy? I’m all in! The key to wrapping these three power objectives together is to begin by choosing a content standard that pairs well with emotional literacy. Here is an example from a seventh-grade science class in their unit on body systems.  In terms of which emotional literacy targets to teach, CASEL, a nonprofit organization working to advance the science and evidence-based practice of social and emotional learning, has identified a framework that is widely used to develop emotional literacy standards. Read more here: https://casel.org/fundamentals-of-sel/what-is-the-casel-framework/
After the content and emotional literacy target have been identified, develop a language target, identifying which language domains you would like students to use to show that they have met the content objective (listening, speaking, reading, or writing). If it is an expressive language target (speaking or writing), include which words you would like students to use. See the full lesson plan here: https://padlet.com/elise266/discover-connect-respond-hh7rquei3uiua4fj And keep checking back for additional lesson ideas in other content areas. I looked at the wall clock and the precious 35 minutes I had left of my conference period and waited for the teenage girl to get to work. Thuy made no movement or indication that she was going to do so, not even picking up her pencil. Instead, she just stared straight ahead, eyebrows raised in defiance. “Thuy, do you know how to do this first one?” I pointed to the first math problem, and she visibly scooted a little further away, turning away. I took a deep breath. I would not be deterred. I picked up her pencil and pointed to the first problem. “MMNHH!!!” Thuy growled at me, snatched her pencil out of my hand, and folded her arms across her chest, ensuring that I would not get that pencil. I felt irritation rising in my belly like bile and closed my eyes for a moment. Whenever we serve children from hard places, we need to tune into ourselves and notice what the children’s response elicits in us. Here is a strategy to do so, one that I have often used at the beginning of a busy school day during the flag salute and the following “moment of silence.”
Check out the "mood meter" and "How We Feel" Ap by Dr. Marc Brackett: https://marcbrackett.com/how-we-feel-app-3/  Once I cooled down, I looked at that red sticky note with curiosity. Why did a thirteen-year-old girl struggling in a new culture trigger me so much? My reaction felt exaggerated. What was it about that interaction that made me so angry?
Identifying the emotion within us is the first step. Stay tuned for what to do next. You have been working so hard this year: loving on kids who might not get that attention and high expectations from anyone else.
I know that you feel discouraged, and like you are not making a difference. I know that you have just received a disappointing appraisal. And your appraiser’s comments go against everything that you have learned about teaching multilingual students. Your appraiser told you: less small group conversation, instead instruct the whole group and lead from the front. I wanted to remind you that appraisers are themselves human, and sometimes new at their roles. They are trying to help you the best that they can, but they, themselves, are not always proficient in best practices for teaching multilingual learners. Not all feedback is good, but what is always good is a posture of humility: what can we learn from this person or situation? I know you feel the push of expectations from the administration. And with one hand, your leaders tell you: “Practice self-care,” but at the same time they say: “make sure to document your exchange hours,” and “You need to do these specific lessons in preparation for our state assessment,” “please use our new software to monitor student progress,” and, “be sure to be on time to our LONG faculty meetings.” I know that all of these things are falling hard on you because you are a perfectionist about your teaching practice. I’m sure you feel overwhelmed by all of these pressures, expectations, and distractions. I know that you often don’t feel seen for all that you are doing. And you wonder why other teachers seem to skate by doing so much less than you. Yet, you have a choice. You are doing great work. You are advocating for students who - without your presence in their lives - would be pushed to the margins. Perhaps they are told in other places that they do not matter. Perhaps they feel that their voices, their language, their culture, and their presence is not important. You are saying that it is. You are reversing long streams of colonialism buried deep in our country's fibers. You are working against the grain of all that would pull down these students and discourage them. And for this reason, you cannot allow all of the other junk and pressures in the teaching profession to get you down. Do not get weary of doing good. You must show up fresh, energized, and new for these students. And to do so, you may have to let some things go. Is it making the lessons really cute and beautifully designed? Is it trying to do all of the things for everyone? Is there a way that you could “reverse engineer” your schedule? This year my principal introduced the phrase: ‘strategically abandon.” I love that phrase because it means being intentional about what you are going to let go of to focus on the main thing. For me, I need to “strategically abandon” managing others’ expectations of me, and just do what I know I must: advocate for our students. What do you need to strategically abandon today, so that you can be “okay” for them? Here’s one I can help you with: you need to strategically abandon that appraisal, and not connect it with your identity. You are not a “proficient’ teacher - you are extraordinary! |
AuthorElise White Diaz is an Educational Consultant with Seidlitz Education, specializing in trauma-informed multilingual education. 
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June 2025
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