Steven Tieulie

Ontario is considering a new policy that could see school staff perform some health services for students, according to a provincial government draft obtained by CBC News.

The document, which is for consultation purposes, proposes that school staff do tasks for students with disabilities. They may include cleaning of catheters, manual expression of the stomach and bladder (to help squeeze out urine), tube feeding, injecting medication, and oral or nasal suctioning.

When Nicole Lamont of Windsor first read the government draft, she thought it “was a joke.”

Her six-year-old daughter, Lilah, has a rare genetic disease known as spinal muscular atrophy Type 1. Lilah has a tracheostomy (surgically created opening in the neck), is on a ventilator and is tube-fed through her stomach. She also requires round-the-clock care from a nurse.

The thought of having an educator perform any health-related tasks on her daughter at school has Lamont worried and makes her uncomfortable.

“I was just kind of infuriated, to be honest with you,” said Lamont. “All kids with special needs already are living in a world that isn’t made for them as it is. They already have to fight for every single bit of care they do have.”

Lamont and her husband went through months of training in order to bring their daughter home from hospital, prompting many questions about how educational workers will be trained if this draft becomes a reality.

“RNs, RPNs, PSWs — they all went to school to be able to learn how to provide this care properly,” she said.

The government draft outlines training for the different health-related examples of tasks that could be given to educators. Depending on the task, it could include instruction from a primary health-care provider, parents or caregivers, or community health-care organizations.

Government updating 38-year-old policy 

A spokesperson for the Ontario education minister told CBC News they’re looking to update a policy on health care in schools that hasn’t been touched since 1984.

“Our government is working collaboratively with the Ministries of Children, Community and Social Service as well as the Ministry of Health to provide supports for students that require health and rehabilitation services in school … to align with current best practices to best serve Ontario students,” said Grace Lee, spokesperson for Education Minister Stephen Lecce. “We will continue to consult with stakeholders and partners to make sure we get this right for the most vulnerable children in our schools.”

But one Windsor union called the proposal a way to cut costs by spending less on medically trained nurses and putting more on the plates of already overloaded educational support staff.

“My biggest concern is mostly for the students,” said Tyler Campbell, president of the Ontario Secondary School Teachers’ Federation’s education support staff bargaining unit in Windsor-Essex.

“We should be focused on education. We should be focused on helping our most vulnerable students. We can’t do that if we’re performing small medical procedures in our schools,” Campbell said. “Educational support staff do with all kinds of different scenarios during the day, but their main focus has to be on education.”

Education assistant ‘livid’ about draft policy

Fran Vangent said her 20-year job as an education assistant has changed drastically.

Adding some medical-related procedures to the mix simply wouldn’t work, said Vangent, who’s with the Greater Essex County District School Board.

“I was livid. I was absolutely livid,” said Vangent after reading the provincial government’s draft proposal. “I can’t even imagine.”

At the beginning of her career, Vangent remembers a “very low-key” work environment in a single classroom. Today, she’s regularly pulled into as many as four classrooms in a day. Large workloads and short staffing all contribute to what Vangent describes as burnout.

She said this is where the “guilt” and “like I’m not doing my job” feelings come in. “And burnout is me rehashing my entire day all the way home, wondering where I could have done better, where I should have been, did I pick that up, did I really need to take that 15-minute break, because if I would have stayed in the classroom, maybe I could have gotten to him.”

The Ministry of Education said this policy review was prompted, in part, because families told them the outdated health-care framework is a barrier for children with disabilities to attend school.

The province has heard from hundreds of families and stakeholders, and plans to develop a finalized policy in the coming months.

But from Lamont’s perspective, educators shouldn’t be providing medical care because “they didn’t go to school for that.”

In addition, she worries about liability, and wonders “who is responsible if something goes wrong.”

The salaries of the staff who care for some of the youngest and most vulnerable children in Ontario schools have dropped in real dollars over the last decade, according to a new report from the Canadian Union of Public Employees (CUPE), the union representing many of them.

Salaries for the 55,000 CUPE educational support staff at the province’s elementary and secondary schools fell more than 11 per cent behind inflation, said the report released Thursday.

The average wage for CUPE school workers is $39,000, the report found.

The largest category of those workers — about 30 per cent — are educational assistants who help children with special education needs, such as autism and learning disabilities.

CUPE also represents custodians, office and library staff and early childhood educators who work alongside teachers in kindergarten classrooms.

Wages for CUPE workers increased 8.8 per cent (compounded) from 2012 and 2022, the report found, while inflation in Ontario during that time period went up 19 per cent.

If wages had kept up with the cost of living, the average CUPE school worker would have made an extra $4,000 last year, the report found.

The report blamed a combination of legislation by Ontario governments that have restricted wage increases for public sector employees and tough bargaining by management.

In contrast, unionized employees in the private sector have seen compounded wage increases over the past decade of an average 20.3 per cent. Municipal unions have averaged 19.1 per cent, unions in federally regulated workplaces have averaged 18.6 per cent and the Ontario broader public sector has averaged 12.2 per cent in increases, the report states.

The report also included a survey of 16,000 CUPE workers at schools.

The survey found that 51 per cent of those who responded have taken at least one extra job to make ends meet; 47 per cent agreed they struggled to pay monthly bills such as rent and car payments and 27 per cent agreed they had to “cut back on food.”

That sounds familiar for Laura Padulo, an educational assistant who works with autistic children at the Ottawa Catholic School Board.

Padulo earns $43,000. That’s less than half of what an experienced teacher earns.

As a single mother with three teenagers, her salary doesn’t stretch far, Padulo said. One of her sons, 18, has a job so he contributes to the household. The other is in university and her youngest child is in Grade 9. “I’m very, very careful about how I spend my money.

“My rent keeps going up.”

Padulo says her family has a “minimalist” lifestyle, with most of her salary going to food.

Wages for educational assistants at the Ottawa Catholic School Board range from $41,017 to $44,342 for a 10-month contract covering the school year, spokesperson Sharlene Hunter said.

Teachers start at $47,458 annually, with the top wage for a teacher with 11 years of experience hitting $102,967, she said.

(Educational assistants typically have a two or three-year college diploma, while a teaching certificate in Ontario requires a minimum of five years of post-secondary education.)

Hunter points out that school boards don’t set wages. The province funds schools boards and collective agreements are negotiated province-wide.

“We’d be pleased to see all (support) staff receive increases as long as the government funds that cost,” Hunter said.

Padulo said she’s enjoyed working with people with disabilities since she was a teenager and volunteered at camps for children with special needs.

She has a bachelor’s degree in psychology and after a stint at home, went to college to do a one-year certificate in autism behavioural science.

Padulo said she loves her job working with autistic children in kindergarten and Grade 1. She helps them with everything from going to the bathroom to learning to follow directions, writing letters and helping them work with their emotions.

“It’s an amazing job.”

At the same time, it’s demanding, both physically and emotionally, Padulo said. She doesn’t think the salary reflects the importance of the work. “And the added stress and responsibility of caring for these little humans and making sure they stay safe.

“And you want to keep them happy and engaged.”

The children she works with are non-verbal and may run, hit or bite and throw things.

Padulo explains that the children are simply struggling to communicate. “I think the kids that we work with are meaningful to our society. We are educators.”

“I’m not expecting to be a millionaire,” she said. But her wage is “ridiculous.”

“To me, it’s just not valued because society doesn’t really see it as a big deal when you work with vulnerable people. We reward different things.”

jmiller@postmedia.com

Francine Meledoro has been hit, kicked and bitten. Now she’s worried about invisible dangers.

Meldoro, an educational assistant at an east-end Catholic elementary school, works with children who have autism and behavioural challenges. It’s work she finds very satisfying, despite the dangers.

“I like to be able to see them reach their goals, whether it’s academic or learning to ride OC Transpo or read the flyers from grocery stores,” she said. “I love my little guys and seeing the smiles on their faces.”

But there are scars on the backs of her hand where she has been scratched. She often brings home visible reminders of the dangers of her job.

‘I’m worried about my own safety on a regular day. This is a whole other ball game,” she said of the return to school. “My kids are used to seeing marks on me. Now I may be bringing home something you can’t see.”

While the focus so far has been on teachers’ and parents’ concerns, there has been less attention on another part of the sector — the support workers whose pay grade is far below teachers.

The top salary for educational assistants is $43,000 a year after four years. Early childhood educators earn a top salary of $38,000, said Sherry Wallace, the president of CUPE 2357, which represents over 2,000 education workers ranging from library technicians to office administrators at the Ottawa Catholic School Board.

It’s not unusual for EAs and ECEs to have part-time jobs in group homes or day care, Wallace added. “Just for the additional income.”

Meldoro has worked as an educational assistant for about 13 years. Every year, she is laid off in June and re-hired in September — the same is true of the early childhood educators who work at the board — and she collects EI over the summer. This year she collected CERB.

Staying at home and waiting it out is not an option, she said.

“My husband can’t stay at home and I can’t stay at home. Financially, I need to go to work. My husband is a construction worker. He can’t take time off.”

Some education work is precarious work — temporary, poorly paid or insecure. Some students require medical support including diabetes testing, diaper-changing and toileting, and others with behavioural issues who spit, kick or throw desks when they’re in crisis, said Wallace. There are some students who don’t understand physical distancing and why it’s necessary to wear a mask.

In the pandemic world, the most precarious workers of all are those who are assigned to schools on a casual basis, she said. At her board, this is a pool of between 400 and 500 people.

“They could be going into multiple settings. And they don’t have sick leave.”

Meledoro’s life is a microcosm of the many fears and anxieties education workers have as they return to the classroom.

Many educational assistants have much more intimate contact with students than teachers do — they help students with eating and toileting, for example. Meledoro often guides a student by taking him or her by the hand. All of this will be difficult in the new world of physical distancing.

Meledoro has other concerns as well. Her mother, who cares for Meldoro’s six-year-old daughter before and after school, has a compromised immune system. Meledoro’s son, who is a year and half old, will be going to a home day care.

Meledoro has been careful to keep her social bubble small this summer. But, by her count, her family’s bubble will expand to about 90 people when her school, her daughter’s school, her son’s daycare and her husband’s work colleagues are all added together.

Occasional teachers are also weighing the dangers of returning to work.

“Part of me would really like to see human beings again. And another part of me thinks the classroom wouldn’t be the safest place,” said Susan Rab, who has been an occasional teacher off and on for 30 years.

Some occasional teachers are retired teachers who had a career and enjoy part-time work. Others are young graduates hoping occasional work will lead to a permanent job. While some occasional teachers get most of their work at one school or are on long-term contracts, one of the most serious concerns is about those who will be traveling to different schools, said Rab.

Job postings are made available to the approved occasional teacher pool through texts, emails and phone calls to qualified occasional teachers. If a teacher wants to accept a job, they click on it. Sometimes they don’t know where they will be going — or if they have a job — until morning.

“One of the difficulties for occasional teachers is that they have to make a conscious decision every day,” said Rab.

“This is precarious work,” David Wildman, who represents about 1,450 occasional teachers at the Ottawa unit of the Ontario Secondary Teachers’ Federation.

“You make a lot of money over the course of a week if you work. But you can’t spend it because you don’t know what will happen if you’re not working next week,” he said.

“If you have an HVAC system that doesn’t work properly and windows that don’t open and kids who come to school even if they are sick, then you’ll get sick. And what if you have to self-isolate for two weeks? Who’s going to pay for the groceries?”

Occasional teachers also face the same problems about physical distancing as regular teachers, said Wildman.

“You can’t comfort an upset child from the front of the classroom,” he said. “Behaviour will be more difficult to manage. It’s part of being a teacher, but with an added element of danger.”

Meledoro has been told she will be provided with PPE and three provincially-mandated training days before school starts when she will learn how to put on, take off, clean and discard PPE.

She considers herself lucky that the windows at her school open to allow fresh air inside. She has nothing but praise for how well her school board had kept her in the loop about new developments. She has confidence in her principal.

“Considering the circumstances, they have been doing their best,” she said.