The setting was Maple Grove Early Learning Center, a pseudonymous public early childhood program in a mid-size Illinois city whose county hosts immigrant populations from more than 76 countries, including China, Mexico, India, Guatemala, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo. The demographics of the school underscore why the question matters: 48.8 percent of its children are classified as English language learners, 65.5 percent as low income, and 41.5 percent have Individualized Education Programs. The largest immigrant group at the school is families from the Democratic Republic of Congo who speak French, Lingala, or both at home. In response, the program actively recruits assistant teachers from the DRC who can communicate with children and families and serve as cultural brokers—a staffing decision that turned out to be central to the study’s findings. Following Stake’s definition of an intrinsic case study, a bounded system investigated for its own sake rather than for broad generalization, the researchers focused on one classroom of 28 children taught in morning and afternoon sessions.

Methodologically, the study relied on semi-structured, open-ended interviews of roughly 45 minutes with each participant, conducted between December 2024 and January 2025—the head teacher in person and the others via Zoom, with automated transcription later cleaned for analysis. The team operationally defined family engagement along four dimensions: families’ beliefs and values about their role in supporting children’s learning; the practices through which families support children at home and in the community; communication and relationship-building between families and educators; and shared or divergent expectations about decision-making. Lu then applied reflexive thematic analysis, the approach developed by Braun and Clarke, in three iterative phases: open coding with paired comparisons within role-based dyads, cross-case comparison anchored to the four dimensions, and refinement through re-reading passages that complicated emerging interpretations. Reflexive notes documented analytic decisions, and trustworthiness was addressed through Lincoln and Guba’s criteria of credibility, dependability, and confirmability, with traceable links between final themes and transcript excerpts. The second author independently read all four transcripts and met regularly with the first author to challenge developing interpretations.

The interpretive backbone of the study is Funds of Knowledge theory, first developed by Luis Moll and colleagues in 1992 through ethnographic work with Mexican-origin households in Arizona. The framework defines funds of knowledge as “the historically accumulated and culturally developed bodies of knowledge and skills essential for household or individual functioning and well-being”—resources transmitted across generations through everyday practices, family networks, and community life, spanning caregiving, labor, faith, healing, and language. The theory rests on three assumptions with direct consequences for schools. First, all families possess such knowledge; disparities in school outcomes reflect institutional failures of recognition rather than absences of family knowledge. Second, these resources often reside in domains invisible to schools—home routines, community-based learning, intergenerational transmission of values—so surfacing them requires deliberate inquiry by educators. Third, recognition is an epistemic commitment: families must be treated as legitimate sources of knowledge about their own children’s learning and as legitimate partners in educational decision-making. This stands in contrast to institution-centered typologies, such as Epstein’s six types of involvement—parenting, communicating, volunteering, learning at home, decision-making, and collaborating with the community—and to the school-directed logic of “involvement” that scholars distinguish from reciprocal, two-way “engagement.”

The four participants illustrate why those distinctions are consequential. Elise, the White, US-born head teacher and a monolingual English speaker, grew up with college-educated parents deeply involved in her schooling, and she defines engagement through hands-on participation, proactive communication, and alignment with school expectations. Mariel, a Black teaching assistant who immigrated from the DRC as an adult, grew up in a country where schooling is not universally accessible and families pay out of pocket; for her, “My parents supported me in school, but they didn’t have any specific relationship with the school. Just paying and sending me.” Colette, a parent who also immigrated from the DRC, had a father who was “all the time behind my school,” and she arrived eager to be involved—but her interactions ran mostly through Mariel, who shares her home language and cultural background. Selma, a White parent who immigrated from Algeria and worked at the school as a teaching assistant and later a head teacher, recalled her own mother’s less visible involvement, such as baking for school events or helping in the school garden.

The misalignments surface most sharply in communication. Elise reported that “at least 90 to 95 percent” of her families respond to messages, and she hoped for “just really any communication, any response,” recalling years when she never heard from some parents at all. She offered resources such as weekend food bags universally—”I never want to judge… I offer it to everybody. I don’t want to single anyone out.” Yet the researchers observed a telling contradiction: even as Elise articulated a desire to recognize varied kinds of home support, she remained frustrated when families did not adhere to her personal definition of home-school relationships, indicating that her broadened definition stayed rhetorical rather than practical. The parents, meanwhile, described the teacher’s communication as one-directional information delivery, mostly behavior updates—”she’s chill; she’s happy”—and were largely satisfied with that. Colette noted the structural realities that make school-based participation hard: “We are tired, very exhausted… it’s sometimes hard to check the kid’s backpack.” Both parents voiced a transactional view of the relationship: “This is their job, to meet the needs of the parents and the kids.”

Perhaps the study’s most striking material concerns Mariel, whose role as a cultural and linguistic insider enabled communication the rest of the school could not achieve. Beyond sharing her phone number with Congolese families—who made up roughly 60 percent of the class—she built a WhatsApp group for announcements and ran an informal relay through community structures: “I can call the president of our community or give the message to the one who has a Facebook page that he can write stuff.” Snow-day notices and school announcements often traveled this way. For Colette, hearing Congolese French and Lingala inside her child’s school was “feeling like home,” and having a staff member who understood Congolese cultural practices allowed concerns to be raised informally and without friction. But the researchers found a limit: because Mariel mediated so effectively, direct relationship-building between Elise and the families atrophied. Without sufficient resources and institutional support, the authors report, these interactions tended toward information exchanges rather than the reciprocal engagement associated with transformative partnerships—cultural brokering functioning as a patch, not a solution.

The study also documents the cost of improvised cross-cultural communication. Elise described a conference held without a translator: “I did not speak French. We did not have a translator. It was so uncomfortable and awkward,” and she wished for more interpretation support. Selma observed that families’ cultural backgrounds rarely entered school life beyond enrollment paperwork: “It was just like a routine. It’s the same questions we ask every parent.” Read through a Funds of Knowledge lens, the authors argue, such procedural neutrality is a missed opportunity to affirm and integrate household-based knowledge into the classroom. The study situates this within a broader literature on deficit thinking—the tendency of schools to portray families who do not follow White, middle-class engagement norms as lacking the resources or knowledge to support their children’s education, which reinforces hierarchical power structures rather than collaboration. Notably, the teachers’ understanding of families’ funds of knowledge was shaped by informal experience rather than structured professional development, and without intentional and ongoing preparation, cultural responsiveness remained “situational and surface-level.”

The authors are careful about scope: this is a small-scale, exploratory case with four participants drawn from a single classroom, based on voluntary participation, and one parent participant was herself working as a teacher at the school—so self-selection may have underrepresented the least engaged or most marginalized voices. But the implications reach beyond one site. As classrooms across the United States diversify, the study argues that engagement cannot be captured by standardized expectations of visibility within school space; meaningful engagement also takes the form of home-based practices, trust-based relationships, and informal communication within community networks, all of which remain invisible when schools rely solely on visibility-centered metrics. The researchers call for systemic approaches to cultural competence in teacher preparation and institution-wide practices that honor diverse forms of family engagement, rather than reliance on individual cultural insiders. One-size-fits-all solutions, they conclude, rarely address the realities of linguistically diverse families; the goal is a move from narrow, school-centered models of involvement toward reciprocal, culturally responsive partnerships in which no family’s devotion goes unseen.

The challenge for non-indigenous teachers in these regions arises primarily from their position as cultural outsiders working within communities that maintain strong spiritual and cultural traditions vastly different from the dominant Han culture of Taiwan. Historically, education in these indigenous areas has trended towards assimilationist policies that have marginalized native languages and customs in favor of mainstream Mandarin and standardized curricula. However, contemporary research, as highlighted in Chen BC’s recent study published in ICEP (2023), underscores the significance of culturally relevant pedagogy as an essential framework that teachers can utilize to foster both educational success and cultural affirmation among indigenous preschoolers.

Culturally relevant pedagogy operates on principles that recognize and incorporate students’ cultural references within the learning environment, thereby fostering engagement and a sense of belonging. For non-indigenous preschool teachers in Taiwan, this means developing a deep understanding of indigenous epistemologies—ways of knowing and learning that are embedded in oral histories, kinship networks, rituals, and land-based knowledge systems. These educators move beyond simple tolerance or superficial acknowledgment of indigenous culture and strive towards authentic integration of indigenous cultural elements into daily classroom activities.

This pedagogical shift is technically challenging and demands an adaptive, reflective teaching style. Teachers often struggle with the dissonance between their own cultural upbringing and the indigenous cultural frameworks they attempt to teach. Professional development, therefore, plays a decisive role, with workshops and community collaborations aimed at training non-indigenous teachers in language revitalization strategies, indigenous storytelling, music, and dance as educational tools. Such initiatives recognize that revitalizing indigenous languages and cultural practices begins in early childhood education, where foundational cognitive and social development processes occur.

One of the significant technical aspects of culturally relevant pedagogy in this context involves curriculum design. Standardized curricula typically serve urban or majority-culture settings, which do not account for the lived experiences of indigenous children. Thus, educators and curriculum developers must engage in a process of curriculum localization—tailoring content to meet cultural, linguistic, and environmental realities of indigenous communities. This localization includes incorporating indigenous languages as mediums of instruction and embedding land stewardship ideals deeply intertwined with indigenous worldviews, which reinforce children’s identity and responsibility towards their ancestral territories.

Observations from classrooms in indigenous areas of Taiwan reveal that non-indigenous teachers who embrace culturally relevant pedagogical strategies experience increased student motivation, higher attendance rates, and better social-emotional outcomes. These educators employ storytelling traditions and oral histories not just as novel teaching aids but as fundamental modes of communication that reinforce community values and collective memory. This practice not only enriches educational content but also aids in the decolonization of classroom discourses, which often privilege written, Western forms of knowledge over indigenous oral knowledge systems.

The integration of technology in this pedagogical framework presents both opportunities and challenges. Digital tools can facilitate access to indigenous language resources, help document endangered dialects, and connect dispersed indigenous communities. However, technology must be applied judiciously to ensure it does not replace or undermine traditional face-to-face cultural transmission modalities. For non-indigenous teachers, navigating this balance requires cultural sensitivity, technical literacy, and ongoing community consultation to ensure technology serves as an aid rather than an impediment to indigenous education.

Another critical component of culturally relevant pedagogy concerns the social-emotional context of indigenous preschoolers. Non-indigenous teachers must be adept not only in subject matter but also in culturally competent emotional support strategies. Many indigenous children face historical and intergenerational traumas related to colonization, land dispossession, and cultural suppression. Educational environments that affirm their identities and incorporate healing practices rooted in indigenous cosmologies can provide crucial buffers against such adversities. Non-indigenous teachers, therefore, often collaborate closely with indigenous elders, community leaders, and families to embed holistic approaches to child well-being within the classroom.

Furthermore, language revitalization is a central pillar in this educational movement, given that many indigenous languages in Taiwan are endangered or severely restricted in daily use. Preschool represents a critical window for immersive language learning, a fact non-indigenous educators actively utilize by incorporating indigenous language instruction and ensuring languages thrive within their cultural contexts rather than in isolation. This approach requires non-indigenous teachers to acquire at least basic proficiency in local indigenous languages and to understand linguistic structures distinct from Mandarin or other dominant languages.

Importantly, the success of culturally relevant pedagogy is reliant on the institutional support structures provided by educational authorities in Taiwan. Progressive policies that validate indigenous languages and cultures as core components of curriculum standards empower non-indigenous teachers to innovate pedagogically. At the same time, bureaucratic constraints may inhibit such creativity, as standardized testing and national benchmarks often conflict with localized, culturally responsive educational goals. Therefore, the role of advocacy becomes as significant as direct pedagogical practice in shaping long-term outcomes for indigenous early childhood education.

The implications of Chen’s research extend beyond Taiwan, offering a model for other multiethnic and multicultural societies grappling with the legacy of colonialism and the marginalization of indigenous peoples. The methodologies developed by non-indigenous preschool teachers embedded in indigenous communities highlight a transformative potential for education as an instrument of cultural preservation and social justice. By foregrounding indigenous voices and epistemologies within the earliest stages of formal education, these teachers challenge pervasive narratives of cultural deficit and instead champion resilience, creativity, and cultural revitalization.

It is critical to acknowledge that culturally relevant pedagogy is an ongoing, dynamic process rather than a static formula. The relationship between non-indigenous educators and indigenous communities necessitates continuous dialogue, trust-building, and reciprocal learning. Non-indigenous teachers must approach their roles with humility and a commitment to lifelong learning, recognizing the limits of their own knowledge and the authority indigenous knowledge holders possess over their cultural heritage. This ethos enhances educational outcomes and strengthens community ties, ensuring that education serves not as a tool of assimilation but as a catalyst for empowerment.

In sum, the pedagogical practices of non-indigenous preschool teachers in indigenous areas of Taiwan, as examined by Chen BC, represent a vital intersection of education, culture, and identity politics. These practices challenge conventional paradigms by repositioning indigenous ways of knowing at the core of early childhood education, fostering environments in which indigenous children can thrive academically and culturally. This pioneering work underscores the profound impact that culturally relevant pedagogy can have on preserving linguistic and cultural diversity in a rapidly homogenizing world.

Moreover, the study spotlights the importance of fostering culturally responsive teacher education programs that equip non-indigenous educators with skills not traditionally emphasized in mainstream teacher training. Such programs include immersive cultural experiences, language acquisition modules tailored to indigenous tongues, and collaborative curriculum design with indigenous communities. This comprehensive approach enhances teacher preparedness and ultimately benefits indigenous preschoolers through richer, more meaningful educational encounters.

As Taiwan continues navigating its path between tradition and modernization, the role of education as a site for cultural negotiation becomes ever more pronounced. Non-indigenous preschool teachers serve as crucial mediators in this process, employing culturally relevant pedagogy to nurture a generation of indigenous children who are not only literate in dominant academic subjects but deeply connected to their ancestral roots. Their work carries compelling lessons for global education practitioners committed to equity, diversity, and the protection of indigenous knowledge systems in an era of rapid social change.

Subject of Research: Non-indigenous preschool teachers’ culturally relevant pedagogy in indigenous areas of Taiwan

Article Title: Non-indigenous preschool teachers’ culturally relevant pedagogy in the indigenous areas of Taiwan

Article References:
Chen, BC. Non-indigenous preschool teachers’ culturally relevant pedagogy in the indigenous areas of Taiwan. ICEP 17, 15 (2023). https://doi.org/10.1186/s40723-023-00118-3

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