Icebergs are useful metaphors for illustrating hidden depth and nuance.

They help us appreciate the complexities of culture, success and a well-told narrative.

Recently, I’ve been imagining learner agency as the tip of its own educational iceberg – that is, the visible evidence of empowered learning – but not the whole picture of what facilitates autonomous, mastery-driven learning.

It’s complex

When my classroom starts buzzing with rich, student-led inquiry, I know that learner agency is high.

I’m also aware that many other things are also going right.  Provocations have sparked curiosity, invitations (cognitive and interpersonal) have been accepted, collaboration has been fruitful, and teacher guidance has been “goldilocked” (pitched at a just-right level to keep students striving for understanding).

Honestly, learner agency is not visible all day, every day.  And it’s not the children, with strong opinions and giant questions, who lack motivation!  I’m the reason that learner agency is not always unleashed.  In my well-intentioned lessons, I miss their divergent comments, I offer a provocative question but rush their thinking time, or I give a factual answer when we should really marinate in confusion.

Creating a high agency environment is a complex quest.

False Dichotomies

But complexity is good.

Creating truly empowering classrooms should be challenging and even elusive at times.

It’s complexity that protects us from the trap of false dichotomies.

For example:

• Student choice OR teacher direction?

Both. It’s often a negotiation between an empowered learner and an invested teacher that creates a partnership supportive of agency.

• Student voice OR teacher voice?

Both. It’s a constant, robust dialogue; a mix of questioning, explaining, critiquing, affirming, interjecting and listening that steadily helps learners to advocate for their needs and articulate emerging theories.

• Student-owned learning OR teacher-owned learning?

Both. It’s a mess of collaboratively constructed understandings, during which nobody remembers (or cares) who led whom to deeper, richer realisations about the world.

These dichotomies often spark debate among media commentators.  However, they are of little consequence to educators, working with children who need responsive, personalised guidance.

And they are never present in the documentation provided by the IB.

(See The Learner, from Principles into Practice.  The language of “moving away from/moving towards” supports teacher agency in making complex pedagogical choices.)

So…what supports learner agency?

Underpinning high agency environments is a host of not very new, not very innovative – but very important – educational practices.

Here a few:

curriculum knowledge– Agency occurs when teachers know the curriculum so well, they can say “yes” to student-led inquiries because they are confident in making curricular connections and guiding conceptual learning.

assessment – Teachers who continually collect and analyse information about what students know and how they learn, are well-equipped to provide just-right, just-in-time guidance to sustain student-led inquiry.

psychological safety – Students advocate for their own learning when they trust that their mistakes are valued and respected by their peers and teachers.

feedback (and feedforward) – Students exercise agency when they know the next steps to take on their journey of personal growth.

learning intentions – Students take charge of learning experiences when they know what they’re learning about, and more importantly, why it matters.

challenge – Only when students are challenged beyond current levels of understanding, do they experience the frustration and dissonance needed to ask questions, test theories and start investigations of their own.

And many more! This image is just an attempt to capture the complexity of supporting learner agency.

When we witness learner agency, it is truly thrilling.  Students are alive with purpose, passion and confidence.  We should remember that many unseen, but important, educational practices create the conditions for autonomous learning.

Beneath the iceberg, lies powerful pedagogy.

Here’s what I learned as a classroom teacher, after a few years out as a principal:

Have you worked with a 25-year-old lately? It not, you’re missing out!

This year, I worked with a throng of early career teachers who were astonishingly capable, committed and adventurous. These professionals were meticulous in their approach to assessment, documentation and accountability, while creating flexible experiences and environments.

Every Sunday, I peeked into colleagues’ planners and exclaimed, “Genius! Why didn’t I think of that?” In meetings, they taught me about streamlined systems and efficient workflow. They worked with dizzying pace and clear purpose, switching from deep discussion to actionable items in seconds. And I watched with awe as they built strong rapport with students and found the positive, the hilarious and the celebratory in every situation.

What a joy!

I don’t know when I stopped being ‘young for the role’ and started saying things like, “What do you mean you don’t remember the Sydney Olympics?!”…but I wouldn’t change it. These educators are driving our profession forward and I’m following them!

In 2018, students are more vocal, more empowered, more capable and more complex than I ever remember. Of course, children were always this fascinating – it’s a matter of noticing capabilities and harnessing agency.

In this phase of my career, with deeper understandings of voice, choice and ownership, I watched with glee as students drove their own learning fuelled by a belief that it was theirs to design. “Ms O’Dwyer, just so you know….” became their catch-cry as they informed me of learning plans.  “Just so you know….I’ve invited a guest speaker on natural gas fracking; Jack and I are making our own probability experiment because we don’t agree on independent outcomes; I’m going to the library for more WWII books because I don’t really understand the causes; I’ll be in the makerspace using a VR thingy for my climate change thingy”.

As a result, I learned to sit down. To move back. To hand over the pen. And the board. And the timetable. Sometimes, I even remembered to be quiet. (I’m not cured of a propensity for “telling”. I still guide with a too-heavy hand! But I’m gradually learning to watch, ask – and then speak – to honour these capable learners.)

I have accumulated some knowledge over the past 15 years. Perhaps even a sliver of wisdom. As a result of reading, learning, collaborating and simply being in schools, I’ve seen some things and tried some things. In most situations, I have options, strategies and perspectives to draw upon. I can be a voice that says, “What about…?” “Have we considered…?” “This might work…” “I think this calls for…”.

However, knowing is not the same as doing. This year, I found many skills to be sorely lacking! At times, my cognitive load was completely overwhelmed by minutiae and logistics. The best teachers are those with systems and routines to eliminate fuss and focus on learning. I have some work to do. Honing skills takes time, practice and reflection – fortunately, I’m surrounded by masters.

I learned that leadership matters. In ways I never understood while I was doing it. My current principal is a source of inspiration, energy and expertise. He can teach us all under the table, and often does, by jumping into team-teaching situations. He leads professional learning and drives change. The school feels different when he is on campus, such is his influence on climate and culture.

And best of all, he’s not me. In almost every encounter, I find myself surprised, challenged, confused and then delighted by the dissonance. When I expect him to say, “Well done, team”, he says, “We can do better.” When I expect him to say, “This is important”, he says, “We won’t waste time on this”. And with it, comes a clear explanation of what, why and how the mission and values of our school will come to life. He is generous with knowledge and feedback, inviting us to experiment, make mistakes and take risks.

It is exciting to witness a leader transform a community. I’ve bought into the vision. I’m growing every day.

I knew that classroom teaching would deliver professional rewards. In fact, it over-delivered on all that I was seeking – discoveries (tools & practices), challenges (why isn’t that child thriving?), puzzles (why isn’t that concept sticking?), and unbridled joy (you are not the same child I met in January!). And I knew that the pay-off would be fatigue. Teaching is relentless. 8am arrives each day, ready or not, and there is no option but to give to those who walk through the door with intellect and curiosity.

What I wasn’t prepared for was how deeply I would care. Within a month, I burst into tears at a planning meeting. “I’m just so disappointed.” (All credit to my 25-year-old colleague who calmly climbed aboard the rollercoaster. I can’t remember the problem –  a personal failing; a mistake made; a moment missed). The next week, as an anxious child excelled at public speaking, I dabbed at my eyes again. “I’m happy this time,” I assured my colleague.

When teams are built on trust, passion is valued, and humanity is treasured. Throughout the year, my team shared our fears, successes, wonderings and frustrations, with shining eyes and open hearts.

That said, I’m grateful to have found an educational home that is challenging, inspiring and rich in friendship.

I have colleagues and leaders to thank for making it so.

Bring on 2019! New year, new discoveries, new learning.

Can’t. Wait.

This year, I’m on sabbatical. I feel fortunate to be immersed in postgraduate study. My main job is now “student”. Not teacher, coordinator or administrator – but wide-eyed, optimistic learner. Hoorah! I even have new pens!

Even before the first lecture, I’ve learned a wonderful lesson…

Students are people, not barcodes.

After a few weeks of anonymous interactions, using only a 9-digit identification number, I began to wonder if I’d missed The Singularity! Was my institution completely automated? Was there a hyper-efficient robot at the helm? If so, did it have a name – like Siri or Cortana – and could we be friends?

I felt some loss of identity. From the intimacy of small school leadership, it was my turn to be a number in a database.

Under my numerical pseudonym, I sought to untangle schedules & technical issues – without success.

And then, everything changed. Enter Gavin – a real, live human who responded to an email. He updated a database, fixed a glitch, and signed off with, “Jolly good – enjoy your study, Shannon.”

With one kind sentence, my experience changed. His personal comment invoked a sense of belonging – which grew into engagement and ultimately, motivation to learn. My brain was ready to study – thanks to Gavin.

In the shoes of a student, it was the humanity of the institution that created the perfect condition for learning. As faculty welcomes, social gatherings and information sessions unfold, I’m very grateful. Connections multiply and belonging deepens.

Of course, streamlined systems are important, especially for routine tasks on a large-scale. Online tools for enrolment and scheduling allow human and financial resources to be channeled into education, rather than administration. Tech allows learning to occur anywhere, anytime, with anyone – thereby removing many traditional barriers.

But – in our quest for efficiency, let us never overlook the power of human connection with the learner.

Brains, of any age, cannot learn in the absence of relationships.

Ever watched a primary school teacher herd a gaggle of children into a classroom?

All that hustle & bustle, touching, talking & exclaiming over new haircuts and sticks found in the playground sends a crucial message – that children are noticed, known, and important in this space. It creates a culture of connectedness, which is a prerequisite for higher cognition.

I am very grateful for connections with mentors and peers at my new home of learning.

So whatever you’re teaching today –  early literacy or research methodology – enjoy connecting with a student. It will fuel their learning, And enhance your teaching.

In a culture of connection, everyone learns more.

 All credit to Sydney Uni‘s program support officers and extensive, inclusive orientation.

Gavin is not his name. He deserves privacy. And my most sincere thanks!

Stop preparing children for school;

start preparing schools for children.

With a new year just around the corner in Australia, I’m invited to advise parents on school readiness.

But I feel conflicted.

What if we send another group of 4-year-olds into an antiquated education system that might change them forever, through the well-meaning indoctrination of rules, schedules, compliance & conformity?

Will their curiosity be kindled? Will their intelligence be recognised? Will their passions be celebrated? Will their thinking be extended? I hope so! But I’m not so sure.

How can parents prepare their child for school?

That’s easy to answer (superficially).  Kids who do well at school generally demonstrate:

• self-management skills (dressing, toileting, hand-washing, eating…)
• social skills (turn-taking, sharing, solving conflict…)
• communication skills (language proficiency, verbal expression, listening…)

Certainly, these are important skills for school, and indeed, life.

But we must take care not to use these as tick-boxes to judge anybody, let alone our 4-year-olds.

These are lifelong skills that we all develop and re-develop on our journeys as human beings. As an adult, self-management is my area of need – I’ve mastered buttons and zippers (and only occasionally put my clothes on backwards) – but balance, time-management and healthy eating still elude me!  We’re all learners.

“How do we prepare kids for school?” is not the important question.

Children are ready!

Their brains are innately wired to learn.

When they ask “why?”, express desires and push boundaries – they are independent thinkers!

When they play through touching, tasting, pulling apart and testing – they are researchers!

When they tell stories and re-enact experiences with their toys – they are authors!

Children don’t need any preparation for learning.

However, if they need preparation for school, then we have a problem.

We need to examine the disconnect between schooling and learning. 

Last week, I listened to a Kindergartener process his great-grandmother’s death.

He mused:

How do we know she died?  How did the hospital check? Will she wear a seatbelt in the hearse?  I think people die so that new people can come into the world.  I don’t think heaven’s in the ground with her body – I think it’s wherever she is.

This is the open, inquiring, fertile mind of a child. Powered by personal experience and curiosity, he sorted through the deepest mysteries of mortality that have baffled humans since time immemorial. His wonderful parents welcomed his questions, accepted his theories, embraced ambiguity and didn’t offer trite answers.

I wondered:

Are our schools ready to harness the power of his intellect? How much of his school life is focused on such deep thinking and personal inquiry? How much of the school day is consumed by organisational routines, content coverage and low-level skill development?

Teaching children to toilet and eat at specific times, sit still in plastic chairs, raise their hands for permission to speak, and walk quietly in straight lines has potentially dangerous consequences.

We risk sending messages such as:

• school is about compliance
• school is controlled by teachers
• school is organised and predictable

But learning is none of these things.  Quite the opposite…

• Learning depends on innovation, breaking rules, experimenting and testing theories.
• Learning happens when students ask questions, think for themselves and make personal connections.
• Learning is non-linear, complex, surprising, frustrating and messy.

So…

 How do we send the message that learning trumps schooling?

 How do we shift the power to show 4-year-olds that we are visitors in their learning; they are not visitors in our schools?

Let’s stop asking if kids are ready for school.

Schools, are WE ready for the powerful minds of children?

(This is not a doomsday post. There are many schools creating cultures of thinking, learning and student-agency! Here are some people inspiring me right now:

• Origins Education is a new group of schools with a thoroughly inspiring mission: Wonder, Connect, Create, Explore. I’m excited to watch these ideals drive teaching and learning.

• Are you a vicarious member of Taryn Bond-Clegg’s class yet? Watch as the power shifts from teacher-led to student-owned learning. Her documentation provides a clear path for us to follow.

• Edna Sackson challenges us all to avoid “playing the game of school” and educate with authentic learning and student-agency as our highest priorities.

Thank you for making schools worthy of our children.

We can and will do better!)

In a Great Teacher’s classroom, the air is charged. Minds are engaged, ideas are challenged, mistakes are celebrated, individuals are noticed. It’s quite magical. Questions beget questions. Discussions change course. It may be loud, quiet, calm, chaotic, organised, messy, serious or hilarious. It depends on the learners. In the presence of Great Teachers, children think hard, stand tall and smile with satisfaction at their own achievements.

As a principal, 5 minutes in the presence of a Great Teacher will sustain me all day. No matter what else happens in the vortex of administration, I can still feel a buzz at midnight that only comes from witnessing rich learning in the hands of a Great Teacher.

Here’s the catch. Great Teachers are not born. They are precious gems, formed and reformed throughout a career. They hone their craft through hard work, experience, reading, research, collaboration and reflection. Also – Great Teachers don’t wear crowns (although they should). Great Teachers are often unaware of their talents. They are usually plagued by self-doubt and exhaustion, yet steadfastly committed to improvement. That’s what makes them great.

As colleagues, friends and leaders, we must empower and affirm the Great Teachers in our midst. To do so, we must recognise their autonomy and trust their professionalism. We must understand that Great Teachers need freedom. They need freedom to be eccentric, creative, unique, outspoken, contrary, introspective, observant and wrong – because they are learners and humans, as well as teachers. And, we must be their champions and their mirrors. We must name what we see and cheer on their successes. We must identify their skills and applaud their impact on students’ lives.

How else will they have the energy and confidence to continue being great tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow?

Confessions of Great Teachers

(who constantly second-guess themselves, in a cycle of reflective improvement)

“You know, I don’t own a Himalayan Singing Bowl. I don’t really do mindfulness.”

We must assure Great Teachers that mindfulness is much more than guided meditation. Great Teachers already recognise the importance of social and emotional learning, as they are not teachers of curriculum, but teachers of humans. Great Teachers already help children to “be here, now” in a variety of ways. Any time they stop the class for a moment of stillness, a period of noticing or a deep, colourful breath – they are modelling mindfulness. Any time they invite one child to run a lap, another to find a quiet spot, or another to plunge their hands in a bucket of goo, they are teaching sensory integration and self-regulation. Mindfulness is an exciting field with an abundance of resources to enrich our schools. Certainly, the introduction of meditation and yoga can be very powerful. But do not let Great Teachers believe they are not “doing” mindfulness. Mindfulness means teaching the whole child by implementing a range of strategies for focus and attention, emotional awareness, self-management and ultimately, wellbeing. Be mindful of the mindfulness in Great Teachers’ classrooms, even if there are no tiny cymbals!

“You know, I still make kids line up and raise their hands to speak. That’s not very student-centred, is it?”

In a “hands-down classroom”, teachers actively break the cycle of IRE (initiate, respond, evaluate), to avoiding leading discussions and asking every question. It’s an exciting idea, which works well for some teachers. But it’s not the only way to run a student-centred classroom. Great Teachers already know that the person doing the thinking is the person doing the learning. In a class of 25, they already know who is likely to raise their hand immediately, without deep thinking, and who will never raise their hand because they need more processing time, more encouragement, or would prefer to write/draw their ideas. Great Teachers generally ask students to stand in lines and raise their hands, for organisational purposes, not as a means of retaining control. They may invite students to take the lead in multiple ways: asking questions to drive inquiry, choosing their own books/resources/areas of interest, writing on the board/blog, documenting learning in a manner of their choosing. Great Teachers will always abandon their lesson plans, to follow students down the rabbit hole of an inquiry, (making a lot more work for themselves in the process). They honour student voice by listening, watching, waiting, and responding to readiness. Great Teachers can certainly experiment with hands-down discussions, paddle-pop sticks for choosing a speaker, and flexible seating plans – but they must be assured that these are tools, not pedagogy in itself. Great Teachers put students at the centre of the learning, with or without their hands up.

“You know, I really prefer plastic counters for Maths. That’s not very Reggio, is it?”

There is a lovely misconception that unless it’s a pinecone, it’s not best practice in early years’ education. Great Teachers know that hands-on manipulation is essential for constructing deep understanding. They also know that resources tend to be most useful when they are open-ended, attractive to students (aesthetically and sensorily), and presented in an inviting way. Sometimes, natural items work perfectly, such as stones for counting, twigs for drawing in sand, rocks for hefting and leaves for patterning. Other times, the most flexible tools are coloured counters, weighted bears, commercial measuring cups and MAB blocks. It all depends on the intended learning. It is important that Great Teachers (and their students) have access to materials that inspire wonder, curiosity and discovery. And, it is important that Great Teachers have the freedom to choose the best material for this child, to explore this concept, in this moment. Natural or otherwise.

“You know, when nobody’s watching, I still use levelled readers/worksheets/phonics. That’s not true inquiry, is it?”

It can be! Inquiry is not a prescriptive set of strategies. It’s the process of engaging students as active thinkers, who wonder, ask questions, seek meaning, create, reflect and come to new understandings about themselves and the world around them. Certainly, worksheets and readers can be restrictive, repetitive and boring – the nemesis of curiosity. However, worksheets are nothing more than ink on a page – and Great Teachers use them discerningly, often creating powerful scaffolds, which help students record and connect ideas, analyse perspectives or draw conclusions. Similarly, Great Teachers do not prohibit students from exploring picture books or academic journals; however, reading groups that are informed by instructional levels can be hotbeds of inferential and evaluative thinking, student-led discussion and exciting discovery. It depends how they’re implemented. In addition, Great Teachers understand that phonemic awareness is the foundation of literacy, and phonics are the helpful building blocks. However, they do not take the whole class on a pain-staking, all in-step, march through the alphabet. They invite students to inquire into the workings of language, provoked by rich literature and purposeful play, finding authentic reasons to read and write, and teachable moments to explore a letter, phoneme, digraph, root or derivation. Never underestimate the power of conventional teaching methods in the hands of thoughtful, creative experts.

Every child needs a Great Teacher.

Every Great Teacher needs a champion, to really see their pedagogy when they doubt their own impact.

Great Teachers also need access to professional learning and communities of diverse colleagues, who offer new tools, perspectives, research and methodologies. Above all, Great Teachers need the freedom to add to their toolkits, pick and choose from new strategies, and implement ideas in their own time and with their own flair – for the ultimate goal of student learning.

Follow the links…

For a better explanation of inquiry, please head straight to Kath Murdoch and her new book!

For more about “no hands up” and formative assessment, see the work of Dylan William.

For wonderful mindfulness resources, visit Mindful Schools.

Upon admission, I ask every parent the same questions:

“What is your goal in bringing your son/daughter to our school?”  

 “What do you hope for your child?”

When parents’ responses are already aligned with the mission & values of our school, I know we have some sparkling years of learning ahead!  Such answers include, “To enjoy learning; to think for themselves; to learn without too much stress; to learn a new language; to make friends with people from around the word; to understand different perspectives”.

And, even when the answers are not well-matched to our school’s philosophy, it’s exciting to see eyes light up when an inquiry-based, student-centred curriculum is explained. (In any case, I know that we have several years of communication and collaboration to come, before home & school will truly understand and appreciate each other).

The parents I most admire are those who look completely perplexed by the questions. Every so often, parents simply respond with, “To be happy in life. What else would we want?”  (This always stops me in my tracks and puts that day’s to-do list to shame.)

Interestingly, the hottest trend of 2015 is this parental response: “I want my child to be creative.”

This is exciting for educators, as we are inspired by great minds like Sir Ken Robinson. 

We, too, are endeavouring to make each child’s education an inspiring experience where creativity flourishes.

With their finger on the pulse of parent priorities, Beijing City Weekend  magazine prepared an article on this very topic. They sought the opinions of several educators. My responses are below: 

How would you define creative thinking and why is it important?

Creative thinking is simply the pursuit of possibilities. It is the cognitive process of identifying opportunities, questioning facts, considering connections, testing theories and examining perspectives. Creative thinking exists in every child from birth, as they construct meaning from experiences, and integrate these into an ever-growing understanding of the world. Creativity is not a product, nor a measurable result. It is not the ability to generate an original idea (indeed, there may be no such thing!). Instead, creativity is the daily habit of thinking about facts, concepts and situations in a flexible, playful manner. It is crucial for academic success, because it is at the very heart of problem solving, decision-making and personal expression.

How can we help children to think outside the box?

In education, we believe that open-ended learning supports creative thinking. Whether at home or school, we suggest giving your child access to toys, resources, tasks and problems, where there is no single answer or no correct method of engagement. Then, step back and allow ample thinking time. The experience of feeling unsure, perplexed and purposeless is very important. In these moments, creativity emerges! Blocks, paint, sand and fabric are great examples of multi-purpose resources that provoke creative thinking and problem solving. In family conversations, ask “Why did that happen?” and “How do you know?”, rather than “What did you do?” Deeper questions, such as “Why are you studying history?” and “Do rules give you freedom?” support divergent, critical thinking skills.

In this environment, children quickly learn that it is impossible to “get it right”, adult approval is not the goal, and their own ideas are paramount.

How can creative thinking be integrated into traditional subjects?

Whenever the child is at the centre of the curriculum, creativity will flourish. In all subjects, teachers should assume the role of expert guide, rather than all-knowing lecturer. Teachers must avoid simply disseminating information, and instead, design challenging experiences, through which children create their own understandings.

In Language Arts, children should have opportunities to compose texts, based on their personal experiences, passions and perspectives. They need to explore many forms, genres and media, as their creative voices emerge.

In Mathematics, children should not only solve problems set by the teacher, but also design questions, surveys and mathematical games. Instead of memorising formulae, they should suggest multiple methods for arriving at solutions and justify their theories about number.

In Science, students should learn to hypothesise, design experiments, control variables and draw conclusions, for robust thinking and deep understanding.

Can the wrong approach undermine the creative thinking of students?

Certainly, a cycle of fact memorisation and rigid testing is not ideal. It will ultimately limit student ownership, creativity and, most importantly, motivation for learning. However, children are innately creative. Even in an environment of lectures, worksheets and tests, children will doodle in the margins, create games and dream up stories!

An optimal learning environment is carefully designed to capitalise on a child’s innate creativity and channel it into deep understandings and independent thinking skills. In fact, teachers need not “teach” creativity at all. An environment rich in resources, provocations, dialogue, challenge and guidance will automatically foster creativity.

Teacher-child relationships that validate risk-taking, mistakes and individuality, will further support creativity.

Is there still a place for rote learning in modern education?

It is important that children know their multiplication facts and spelling words. This fluency of recall ensures that working memory and brain power are not consumed by lower level skills such as adding small numbers, but can be devoted to higher level skills such as strategising and problem solving. Thus, a broad knowledge of facts actually supports creative thinking!

However, for most children, the exposure, repetition and practice needed for fluent factual recall need not involve rote learning. Number facts and phonics instruction can be woven into rich, open inquiries, so that creative thinking, understanding and knowledge all develop, hand in hand.

Is there such thing as natural aptitude for creative thinking?

In any learning domain, there are individuals who possess great potential. Of course, there are children who show natural aptitude for creative thinking; however, it is such a broad skillset, that creativity may be expressed in many ways. For example, some children have strong spatial skills and solve puzzles with ease, others have a natural eye for color mixing, and others a flair for poetry.

Of course, all children are creative. Therefore, all children have the capacity to develop into creative thinkers and capable problem solvers, in a supportive environment.

Is it true that creative thinking often comes from restriction?

It is certainly difficult to break the rules, if you don’t know the rules! And yet, a child does not fall in love with music by learning the C major scale. Neither does a child become a talented artist by colouring within the lines. Children need ample time to explore freely, experiment wildly and play merrily in order to strengthen their creative muscle.

At the same time, they need expert guides in their lives to feed in the principles of each discipline, be it art, music, mathematics or language. Just as a strong knowledge base supports creative thinking, so too, a firm understanding of the boundaries, supports informed and effective experimentation and improvisation.

 Are there any other points you’d like to make? 

Creativity is innate. However, creative thinking is a skill. Skills need time and practice to develop.

Children whose lives are over-crowded with structured lessons, (academic, sporting or artistic), have limited opportunities to become autonomous, independent thinkers. Children need unstructured time to think, explore and play, in order to reach their creative potential.

(Needless to say, I have many hours of reading, thinking and learning to do on this topic! I am not an expert.

However, I will follow those who are, and continue on this path towards fostering creativity in our school.)

As a PYP school, we work hard to embed all essential elements in our explicit and hidden curriculum. Our units are conceptually driven through key questions, student-centred inquiry and open-ended assessment. Integration is achieved through collaborative planning and co-teaching, so that concepts, skills & knowledge are explored in varied contexts. Action is provoked, facilitated or simply observed, as students respond in unique and unexpected ways. Learner Profile traits and Attitudes are evident in unit planning, assessment design and classroom dialogue. Modelling, discussion and reflection build habits of mind for lifelong learning.

Sounds perfect, right?

Certainly not!

Just like our students, we are in a constant state of iteration. We experience confusion, frustration, despair, progress, momentum and pride – sometimes all in one day. Our documentation is comprehensive, repetitive and/or sparse, depending on the area of focus. Meetings include cognitive conflict and plans oft go awry. Surely, each teacher would have a different opinion on the extent to which we are achieving the sweeping statements in the first paragraph!

And yet, we are all committed to the  PYP and respect the talent in our team. We continue to share & strive, as we implement the PYP for the benefit of our students and our own professional growth.

March Madness: 

Reflections on Celebration

This month has been especially busy in our Elementary School, due to a series of wonderful events, such as a Musical, Book Week, Art Exhibition, Student Led Conferences and a Talent Show.

As we pick our exhausted teachers up off the floor, and tinker with next year’s calendar to avoid such a crush, I am thinking more broadly about the benefits of each school event.

At what point do pre-planned events become obstructive to the authenticity of an inquiry-based curriculum?

Obviously, there is a clear and valid purpose for each event. For example, Book Week is an opportunity to promote quality literature, re-ignite passions for reading, and enjoy Mother Tongue storytelling. The Art Exhibition enables us to showcase the integration, subject-specific skill development and creativity, which unfold in this magical studio each day.

Furthermore, the calendar is honed each year so that events enrich current inquiries, rather than detracting from them. For example, several grades chose to align their How We Express Ourselves Unit with Book Week this year, to make meaningful connections and capitalize on planned activities.

Fortnightly assemblies, while pre-planned in the calendar, are student-led, for optimal authenticity. Children develop communication skills, confidence and responsibility, as they share their learning with an appreciative audience, without any expectation of a polished performance.

At each assembly, we highlight ways in which the Learner Profile has been “lived” across the school, through a video of student work samples, quotes or actions. (See here, all credit to Jennifer Le Varge, PYP Coordinator).

At special events such as Book Week or Talent Shows, traditional competitions are reconceptualised, to highlight Attitudes or Learner Profile traits in the student participants.

In this way, our events repeatedly communicate important messages about what we value, our common language, what inquiry looks like, and the fact that each child’s progress is worth celebrating. At each event, we are building home-school connections and strengthening our community. Students’ sense of belonging, inclusion and wellbeing is often heightened. Memories are made, parents are engaged, and reflection is increased, as the visibility of learning is high.

So far, so good.

It’s easy to justify.

And it is true.

But…are there more authentic ways to achieve these benefits?

Yes.

Units of Inquiry often culminate naturally in a moment (or several), which may be shared and celebrated beyond the classroom.

For example, this year, we’ve witnessed a class restaurant, a film festival, an art auction, a miniature-school installation and a bike license testing day…(not to mention many virtual intiatives, via blogs and social networks). Each of these “events” has emerged naturally from student inquiry. Not one was planned in the preceding year. Not one was a repeat of what occurred the last time that Unit was taught. Each is a credit to the teachers who allowed students to drive inquiries and take action. Each extended beyond that class to engage other students, teachers and parents in the learning process.

And…each achieved the same benefits as a pre-planned, whole school event…only far more effectively! Being student-owned, they created much deeper understanding, memory and reflection, than those planned by adults.

By allowing March Madness to descend upon teachers, we risk limiting the “space” in any day/week for student-led action to occur and unfold to its fullest extent. For teachers to truly support student action, they must have time. Time to listen; time to notice; time to think; time to change direction and gather different resources. It takes time to let a chaotic, non-linear, beautiful student-led initiative unfold.

If our calendar contains too many pre-planned events, we risk jeopardising the integrity of our inquiry curriculum.

(Note:  action in the PYP is not defined as an “event” or a large-scale intitiative. For the purpose of this reflection, these initiatives are being categorised as one form of action. Action is any response to learning and we have a much broader working defintion in our school.)

Where to from here?

Will we cancel Book Week? Not yet.

Will we analyse the balance and busyness of our school calendar?  Definitely.

Will we consider ways to re-conceptualise school events?  Definitely.

In doing so, we hope to empower student action.

For example, should Book Week be the Librarian’s responsibility?

We’ll look at ways to hand over the reins, so that school events are actually student-driven culminations of learning. Book Week may look and feel different if it is embedded in a Grade 2 storytelling inquiry.

In this model, we need to be prepared for students to set the focus and scope of any action. We also need to accept that  traditional events may not occur each year, depending on their responses to learning .

We’ve taken some steps down this path already, with our Grade 5 Leaders, who have begun to transform the school calendar. Their initiatives, such as “Be Confident, BISS” and “Well-Balanced Day” certainly put our traditional Talent Show to shame!

I need to honour our commitment to inquiry by creating more time & space for student-led action in our school calendar.

It’s time to put down the microphone so that students may share & celebrate learning in their own time, on their own terms.

Thanks to the Jennifer Le Varge & the BISS Elementary Team for a rich discussion on Action.

Published in EARCOS Journal (Winter 2014).

Published Beijing Parents & Kids (2014).

Published in EARCOS Journal (Spring 2014 issue)