Building Depth

Whether or not I have designed meaningful learning activities determines the quality of my students’ learning, the energy of interactions in my classroom, and the depth of my students’ thoughts. The reality that hits me is that all of these components are – to some degree – controllable. Thus, I need to accept the responsibility for this mammoth task. What separates meaningful learning activities from those that are less fruitful is depth. Are students able to grow in their understanding? Are all students’ brains activated throughout the class period? Do students walk away from class feeling as though it was worthwhile to invest themselves in the work?

With apologies to James Carville, I offer this (to myself as much as anyone): it’s the depth, stupid. When a lesson has depth, it demands inquisitive thinking. In our recent unit on the 1920s, a handful of lessons achieved this. Prior to examining these, I should also mention that there are days as a history teacher in which the learning outcome demands exposure to an array of cultural figures and trends. One day of our 1920s unit bombarded students with names relating to art, literature, and music of the time. While these met the content needs, I had to make sure to offset the information overload with images from Georgia O’Keeffe and Frank Lloyd Wright, students being coached to swing eighth notes, and discussion about how playing rhythms that aren’t printed on the page are emblematic of other 1920s’ behaviors.

Although my last post shamed the textbook, it was invaluable as a resource for two of the activities we did as a way to streamline the information-gathering process. While students could have certainly used other resources to mine for ideas, it was convenient to use the predictability of textbook pages, especially when some of what they needed to gather was “hidden” in the plain black font of the book.

In “People of the 1920s” each student prepared to offer the perspective of assigned identity, visited with numerous other students, then completed a series of questions to reveal discoveries about the fears, changes, and consumer practices of the decade. When I designed this, it was necessary to select characters who offered perspectives on all of these topics and manipulate student interactions enough that I could feel assured that they would hear perspectives on all of these key ideas.

Using primary documents is a priority in my class. It requires students to construct meaning and offers them a more authentic feel for historians’ work. I modified Harding’s “Normalcy” speech, as presented through Teaching American History, offered some guiding questions for the document, and then asked students to compare Harding’s vision with what happened during his Presidency: Normalcy Activity . The culminating activity was a paragraph and directed students to use information about our foreign policy (specifically relating to tariffs) as well as the actions of Harding’s cabinet members.

Other activities offered insight on the 1920s and provoked student thought. When we examined racial discrimination of the 1920s, we watched this Twin Cities Public Television piece on the Duluth lynchings to discover the way that the Great Migration meant that racial cruelty sometimes moved north too.

The most challenging – and fun – activity aimed to demonstrate the broad spectrum of values that conflicted with each other during the 1920s. Prior to embracing historical inquiry methods, I would have been content to list these for students to record and share some examples of them. I probably would have been delighted to see them parrot my words on an assignment or test. The fact that I could write “1920s Speed Dating,” on the weekly calendar and draw a heart around it (on Valentine’s Day) made it even sweeter, but the activity offered a chance for students to uncover the clashes of the time. In working through these identities and knowing that they were going to converse with classmates, students needed to employ inference, apply personality, and even improvise a little during the activity. The result was a vibrant activity in which most students were able to uncover – for themselves – the diversity of ideas and people that emanated from this era. In future years, I would prefer to have students prepare their identities in advance so that the scaffolding of recalling the toxic and magical combinations they witnessed could be a more directed piece. However, 1920s Speed Dating, was a tremendous success in its ability to engage my sophomores and enrich their understanding.

When a teacher tosses students into inquiry activities, it seems as though students need to trust that the confusion they experience – and there will be confusion – will be short-term. With that in mind, a teacher needs to be content with letting this cloud of discomfort linger. Every student won’t feel like an ace right away, and some may only gain a surface understanding of the “punchline” in time. The payoff comes with the growth students experience, the interest that high-energy activities can generate, and the depth that offsets the zany pace of studying hundreds of years in 36 weeks.

Image from Pixabay

Image from Pixabay

What am I doing right?


question-mark-213671_640One of my college friends used to caution us about being too content with our lives. She theorized that when people were overly satisfied, horrible events occurred to knock them down. I’m not sure that I ever bought into this thinking because it made me chuckle more than it made me pause; however, being able to recall it almost twenty years later suggests that my brain didn’t just dismiss this mantra. The wisdom in this, I believe, is that it deflects haughty actions and keeps a person grounded in all of the circumstances that contribute to success. While this warning about contentment might serve as a billboard for Midwestern thinking, (“Welcome to __ – We like this place, but we know darn well that it could be better. Let us be humble.”) I will dare to defy it by taking this moment in mid-December to identify the good things happening in my classroom.

One of my favorite pieces of wisdom from Top 20 training is to “keep curiosity alive.” When my teaching is effective, my students are curious. One of my favorite moments, that I can happily say occurs with frequency in class, is when a student enters the room with no intention of learning and ends up as a linchpin in the lesson by sharing his or her questions and skepticism. We all grow from this candid approach. I am so grateful for these students because they reward relevance. Some “usual suspects” for this have definitely emerged at this stage of the current school year, but I know I have really captured lightning in a bottle when this symptom spreads to students who don’t even like to call attention to themselves. While writing about primary documents we examine invites students to explore and express, the inquiry approach to daily lessons has been paramount in cultivating curiosity as a habit. In addition to that, building relevance is crucial within a history class because the curiosity has to help students understand their world better – without that incentive, so many of our topics are simply “nice to know.”

Another element at work is allowing setbacks. I get mad at myself for typos or oversights, but I own and communicate them. Botched test components, in a standards-based grading system, can be retaken. A verbal answer that is wrong is accepted (and validated with the way that it does resemble the correct answer or the kind of thinking that will lead a person to it), but an answer of, “I don’t know,” just means that I’m going to doggedly pursue what the student does know in connection to the question posed. Discomfort strikes the first time this happens, but it becomes enough of our class culture that students recognize that I wasn’t just picking on someone. Of course, a key to making that happen is asking questions with enough depth that the answers have layers and degrees of understanding within them. Our classroom environment needs to be safe enough to invite errors, so I sometimes need to wrangle the wide-open commentary that a discussion promotes when students get so comfortable that they react openly to all remarks. If I don’t do this, it stops reluctant participants before they are willing to start.

Relationships are a cornerstone to a functional classroom. As a classroom teacher, I see my students “live, in-person” on a daily basis. Some students plop their personality on their desk for everyone to see while others protect it. Likewise, teachers either project or hide themselves. I have to admit that I tread pretty carefully in this territory because I saw many high school classmates become alienated when teachers built relationships with a select few who were already openly invested in the various arenas of our school. Students who need our attention most rarely invite it. However, in teaching high school sophomores, I know that students might enter or exit with “ABC Conversations” (“C your way out of it, teacher”) because life doesn’t revolve around us, and helicopter teachers can produce ill effects akin to helicopter parents. Respecting students’ judgment enough to care without meddling is crucial when working with adolescents. I make a concerted effort to see the strengths of students in terms of their work, participation, and their interactions with others. In doing this, relationships develop. I suppose that, in a sense, it mimics how friendships start – people see your “best” side and accept the rest. Whenever I can, I communicate these strengths, but I try to do so with sensitivity. Public praise isn’t always the right card to play. Using our class Twitter account, @cardinaltry, to offer the #ThingsILikedThisWeek has been a public celebration of the weekly accomplishments as well as a way to convey some of the funny things that occur in class. Doing this has built the positive habit of mind to be a “gold miner” and look for indications that we are enjoying our journey together.

I dared to recognize some of the positives, and I’ll know that my friend’s assessment is accurate if – nah. That isn’t worth the worry. Within the confines of my classroom, I have the opportunity to enjoy 150 young people each day. It has been a pleasure to observe so much growth this year and to smile when my students express satisfaction with their experiences. We will continue wondering, taking risks, and relating to each other.