My greatest learning as a teacher came on the soccer field. We had been working for a few weeks on the same key ‘moves’ on the field related to creating ‘space’. After a few practices, the team looked good in the drills – they’ve got it! Next two games? Nothing: like we never learned it. Finally, in exasperation I yelled at my co-captain, Liz, one of the prime offenders in not using the moves practiced: USE what we worked on!! I yelled. Liz yelled back from the field: We would, Mr Wiggins, but the other team isn’t lining up the way we did the drills!!
There are two vital lessons here about learning:
- 1) Transfer is the bottom-line goal of all learning, not scripted behavior.
- 2) Transfer means that a learner can draw upon and apply from all of what was learned, as the situation warrants, not just do one move at a time in response to a prompt.
In a word: autonomy. You have to be able, on your own, to size up when to use what you previously learned, i.e. analyze the challenge, and judge what to do, mindful of a repertoire of prior learnings; then, implement a purposeful move, and assess its effect.
Put negatively, the more coaches and teachers prompt/remind/scaffold, over and over, without a deliberate and explicit plan for release of responsibility, the more students will flounder in situations demanding autonomy. We then see them act randomly, on the basis of what’s comfortable, or be paralyzed. Sound familiar?
Everywhere I go I see way too much scaffolded and prompted teaching – through twelfth grade. By high school, Socratic Seminar, Problem Based Learning, and independent research ought to be the norm not the exception: you have no hope for success in college or the workplace without such independence. Yet, practically no district curricula are written to signal, explicitly and by design, the need for increased student decision-making and independence in using their growing repertoire as courses and years unfold. Rather, the work just gets harder but is still highly directed. Endless worksheets, prompts, reminders, and ongoing feedback keep co-opting the development of student autonomy.
Why, then, are we surprised when students sit in a testing situation – where no prompting or reminders can be provided – do poorly, looking like they seemingly never were taught the content? I think this is a key reason why people blame tests for being invalid.
But, Grant – surely with little kids…
No! The approach I am describing is the essence of Montessori where executive control over decisions is central to the methodology. I recall my son, Ian, as a 4-year-old, pondering which ‘work’ to do that day, on the way to school: food work? sewing work? Or drawing? Well, why might you choose one or the other today? I asked. And he proceeded to do a cute think-aloud with little furrowed brow, about the pros and cons (based on recent choices and his skill deficits). At 4 years of age.
Making matters worse, various people trying to help have wrongly interpreted the Gradual Release of Responsibility model to mean that the last step is “Independent Practice.” This is misguided. Independent practice is still scaffolded, prompted, and simplified activity in which the student knows full well what single move we want them to use. The acid test comes when we provide a text or a problem and simply say, with no advice about which strategy to use, figure this out. (Here and here are some helpful resources on genuine Gradual Release).
Which takes us back to soccer. The beauty of soccer coaching (unlike most other sports) is that as a coach you cannot call time out and you cannot script behavior. The sport demands from the start that you coach so as to signal that autonomy in playing winning soccer is the goal. And in practice you must therefore build in ways (typically via regular scrimmages) to see whether or not kids can draw effectively from their repertoire without your advice, under game conditions. Most of the time you are humbled by how hard the transfer of learning really is, but that only makes you re-double your effort because game success demands it.
Coaches know that release of responsibility has to happen daily, not “gradually” in the sense of over months and years. I was taught the following mantra by pro soccer coaches in clinics: every practice must go through cycles of the following: game-related, game-like, game.
The same is true for reading: far too many teachers prompt for a specific reading strategy and provide guided “independent practice” in using each strategy but spend nowhere near enough time watching quietly (and later de-briefing) kids as they handle a reading passage cold, to determine which strategies they used and why (just as we would do daily in a soccer scrimmage). Even if I have only modeled three strategies, I should test to see which of the 3 they use – if any, like my soccer story! – and have us discuss what they did, why, and what did and didn’t work.
Do you see, therefore, how test preparation done right would mean that students gain practice in drawing from their repertoire with no teacher prompting, i.e. where there is no prior warning about what specifically is going to be on the test? Because that is the formal testing situation as well as the soccer situation. Give a slightly-beyond-level reading passage, non-routine math problem, or dueling accounts of the ‘same’ historical event and just see what they do. That’s the true meaning of formative assessment, not a typical quiz on the content just learned.
But Grant, surely you are not saying we shouldn’t cue, scaffold, prompt, or simplify things for learners!
Of course I am not saying that. Every coach must provide helpful scaffold, just as I did in my practices. But every coach also knows what many teachers seem not to know: unless you back off completely, on a daily basis, in scrimmages as well as games, to see whether or not students draw appropriately from the repertoire in a timely and effective fashion in challenges that demand it, you really have no idea what they can do on their own.
Furthermore, if you tape your own classes you will find that you are providing endless advice on how to do things and more often than not co-opting the development of judgment – the sine qua non of transfer.
I understand, this is difficult. It’s counter-intuitive to say: please teach less and help less, in order that performance might become more successful over time. Our instincts as teachers cause us to over-help rather than under-help. But our kids deserve to become autonomous learners. We need to develop the self-discipline to keep quieter, to build in no-stakes “tests” to see what they do under performance demands, to provide challenges that have no obvious next steps, and to de-brief results.
Co-incidentally, in our visit to School of the Future we noted this as our only concern. We saw nothing but great teaching in each classroom – focused learners doing intellectual worthy exercises. But we were made uneasy but how heavily directive much of it all was. While only there for a day, we saw little evidence that all this teacher help was going to be considerably dialed back soon.
In de-briefing our visit, the Principal agreed, and sent out the following e-mail to her staff:
Grant offered us two considerations – 1) that we get students to “scrimmage” more often, requiring more and more integration of their repertoire of skills and integration of concepts, and 2) that we engender more awareness on the part of students about what the complex ‘game’ is.
What does this look like in our practice? Here are some questions to consider as you coach students towards integration and independence:
1. Do students know what the complex ‘game’ is that they are preparing for on any given day? In the short term, do they know what the big performance is for which they are preparing?
2. Do you have an intentional plan for taking away the scaffolds and making it more game-like? What is the plan to take away the leading questions on the worksheet, the instructions and reminders? Are you too often afraid of messiness and overcompensating with scaffolds? Rather, how might you better prepare students for performance uncertainty and messiness instead, or use such messiness as teaching opportunities?
3. Can you make more lessons more scrimmage-like? Can you require a bigger repertoire of skills and more integration of essential questions by the learners on their own?
Great coaching questions, Stacy.
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There is hope for autonomy! For a high school science teacher who takes a 3-week summer Modeling Workshop, and has persistence and a school administration that lets them teach effectively, they can achieve the autonomy that Jim Burrow did.
Below is a modeling listserv post on May 18, 2011 from Jim Burrow, a 33-year veteran physics, chemistry, and engineering teacher in Page, Arizona. Page is an isolated rural town of 7000 people, near Utah, Lake Powell and the Glen Canyon Dam. Jim took the 3-week mechanics Modeling Workshop at Arizona State University in 2008. (Jim gave permission to forward this.)
50 Modeling Workshops are held each summer, in typically 25 states. Info is at
http://modelinginstruction.org — Jane Jackson, Arizona State University
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I need to share a modeling success story. Rich McNamara and Kelli Gamez Warble told us in their modeling course of a highly skilled and respected modeler who tells his students that his job is make himself “obsolete” by the end of the year. I have adopted the same philosophical goal with my teaching as well. It’s a lofty and worthy goal that will make me stretch, but is it attainable for others?
I now tell you – It is! I was late about 10 minutes to my first period class because of an office meeting. I walked in the back of the room and froze. The class was a sophomore Chemistry class (not physics) reviewing stoichiometry and the students had picked up right where we left off the day before. One student was acting as moderator. Teams had white boards. They had created their own review problem and posted it on the front board. I thought I was having an out-of-body experience. The student moderator asked the class to raise their boards and prompted them to look for similarities and differences! They proceeded to critique their own and other’s work!!!
I ducked next door without being noticed. I grabbed my colleague and a flip cam. We went back and eavesdropped for a moment. Then I entered and shot a short video clip, trying not to interrupt their flow, and when they finished praised them for showing me that I’m “obsolete.” I shared with them the fact that they had taken a huge jump toward becoming life-long learners independent of the quality of the “teaching” they received. They were mastering critical analysis for themselves.
I didn’t stop there. Of course my colleague with whom I’ve been sharing modeling techniques all year was impressed to see this. He could hardly believe at first that this wasn’t staged but immediately recognized the significance of the moment. I shared the clip with my other colleagues. Each one was impressed as well.
Later I shared the clip with my principal. He said, “Is this Inquiry?” I said yes -in part, and modeling, and lifelong learning, and critical thinking. It’s all there! I didn’t stage this – they did it on their own! He was impressed nearly to speechlessness.
I never really expected to become “obsolete” myself. I don’t regard myself a super-skilled practitioner. I’m just a mature teacher polishing up new tricks. My students are no brighter or slower than anyone else’s. I must have been consistent in my modeling approach through the year to the point that my students internalized the collaborative processes and critical analysis skills and are now taking responsibility for their own learning. No other explanation makes sense to me. I can’t wait to see it happen again – maybe next year!
It really was a professional high point in my career. Rich and Kelli and the other modeling instructors, regardless of content area, deserve the credit.
-Jim Burrow
Chemistry/Physics, Page High School, Page, AZ
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You see this all the time in senior projects. Schools want to show all sorts of skills and dispositions, like independent projects, presentations, asking questions. Have they had and PRACTICE K-11?
That was my mantra as a teacher: my job is to make me obsolete as ‘teacher’. I also called it Intellectual Outward Bound: you had to learn to solo (an idea borrowed from my friend Jim Wilson who truly taught the best course ever back in the 70s called Wilderness in which kids DID have to truly solo, having learned the ecology, literature, history, and backpacking of the wilderness on the way).
Interestingly enough, once I became fully committed to this goal I began to realize what the Gradual Release model later taught: there has to be scaffolded practice of the ‘teaching’ moves for kids, and GRADUAL increase of autonomy and repertoire. So, I did this in terms of class discussion: I taught them first a few then more of my moves as facilitator; they practiced them, and we gradually built up the amount of time that they ran the discussion and used more moves. (There is more discussion of this in our forthcoming book on Essential Questions in terms of developing a culture of inquiry.)
The hardest thing I had to do in high school was a 25-day Outward Bound course, a graduation requirement at the Athenian School, which included a three-day solo. To this day, that learning experience influences my life.
One of my goals this year has to move my students towards greater independence. There are some amazingly small things you can do which really help, even in a somewhat traditional subject like mathematics.
1. Stop assigning specific problems every day to every student! What I do is let my students decide, and then guide them toward specific problems as I see the need.
2. Don’t tell them which page number the practice problems are on. They will happily accept your help finding the page numbers and never figure out how to read their textbook as a result.
3. Give them at least some problems to work on which are open-ended, where they have to take what they know about problem solving and decide what is important. See Dan Meyer’s TED talk for a coherent description of what this looks like on the ground.
4. Give them at least some time every day to work completely independent of your immediate feedback (but I also find time to give every student feedback at some stage, each day).
Excellent suggestions. I would also recommend the problem sets from Exeter about which I blogged last year (as well as Meyer’s idea of removing multiple choices from MC problems).
PS: In a later post a math teacher responded who is working to implement the Exeter discussion method all year in his math class: http://harknessforthirty.blogspot.com
Helpful and important. The key here – as shown in your fun dialog from the soccer game – seems to be that the students know that they actually will be using the skills in a situation which matters. I suspect that classroom lesson scrimmages serve best as practice for the real thing at some point during the semester. This point, emphasized in Challenge-Based Learning and in Perkins’ great book “Making Learning Whole”, needs to be the center of most (not all) school work.
I’ve had some success with student-led symposia on key issues of content as the culmination of units – presenting workshops to friends, family, and community members provides real incentive to work on the rehearsals – and also provides the community a rare experience of shared intellectual work.
The soccer analogy is wonderful! As a life-long soccer fanatic and a second semester grad student (mid career move into elementary teaching), I appreciate the points you made in this post. Important perspectives to keep in mind as I go through my course and field work and student teaching. Thanks!
Reblogged this on My MA in Learning and Technology Blog and commented:
Excellent!
Outstanding thoughts, Grant. Thanks for sharing. Your emphasis on debriefing with students after they attempt to draw upon their repertoire of strategies is a nice way to put it; coupled with the visual of soccer player Liz being unable to transfer skills because the setting is not the same, I have some suggestions to share with staff about how (and why) we (should) do prep for the big game. I would suggest adding question #4 to your final list of three:
4. Are students clear about the strategies from which they can use, and under which circumstances?
Thanks for the food for thought.
– Steve Guditus
http://sguditus.blogspot.com
@sguditus
Your added question is excellent. I have previously mentioned the great questions posed by my daughter’s HS coach at every half-time, which REALLY work to get kids ‘seeing’ and thinking strategically:
1. What’s working for us so far?
2. What’s not working for us so far?
3. What’s working for the other team?
4. So, what do we have to do in the 2nd half?
I teach at a poor, rural high school and, sometimes, I am sit at my desk and shake my head in discouragement. I attempt to conduct my classes using “best practices” but I wonder, “Best practices for whom?” I follow the “Show me, help me, let me” approach. I make my assignments progressive – I attempt to build on each assignment until they should be able to synthesize the information they have been working on and tie it all together. However, when it is time for them to work independently, they choke and stop. They call me over for help without even attempting to put anything down. I tell them to attempt to do the work and I will help them when I see what they “think” the assignment is about. Here is my problem: they copy the work of the few who are capable of doing the assignment. They are only interested in a grade and not the learning. I tell them how this will come back to haunt them, but I don’t have an answer for this problem. What do you do in
Your argument is flawed by several key factors, but before I lay them out, allow me to provide my ethos: 1) I was a division-1 NCAA All-American water polo player at the 4th best team in the country, so I know plenty about playing sport. 2) I coached water polo at the club, high school, & collegiate level, so I know plenty about coaching. 3) For the last 10 years, I have taught English in an intervention program for at-risk students in an urban high school in So California, so I know plenty about teaching reading and writing to the most struggling of students. And with all of this experience, I have plenty of credibility to tell you that you are wrong. In the current status of education in this country, sports cannot compare. In sports, if your team loses, one of two things happen: either you go on to play another day, or you, as the coach, get fired, but either way the kids can choose to go on. In education, it is the reverse. If they fail in high school, there is no second chance. I teach 175 struggling students, all of whom are at risk of not graduating high school because they have received so many Fs that they will not have enough credits to graduate. I keep my job, but they fall out of the system, and what’s worse is that most of them don’t even care. Our society has been set up so that No Child is permitted to be Left Behind, and therefore, we are not allowed to let them sink or swim, as we might do in sports. Administrators and WASC evaluators are watching D & F rates and graduation rates like the stock market. As teachers, we are not allowed to let students fail, so our only other choice is to scaffold the steps up. And when we attempt to remove that scaffold and they fall, are we supposed to let them fall? I don’t think their enabling, lawsuit-happy parents would be happy about that decision. Also, your Montessori example is laughably convenient. Yes, of course your 4-year old would be curious and inquisitive: he comes from a home where there are most likely two highly-educated parents who care very much about developing his educational future. The large majority of my struggling students do not come from a similar situation. And your soccer players, much like my water polo players, were motivated because they chose to participate. My students are sitting in my classroom solely to void being cited with a $300 truancy ticket. The majority of them don’t want to be there, nor do they care to work. They have been allowed to fail their way through every year of school, except for Kindergarten, 3rd grade, or 5th grade (only one because holding them back too many times would hurt their spirit and make them too old for their peers). If you really want scaffolding to end then we have to stop lying to ourselves: college is not for everyone, not all students deserve to graduate, and we need laborers as much as we need doctors and lawyers. But this is not the tone that society wants to hear. They want to see the world through rose-colored glasses and believe that all children are equal and that all children can come out of our school/factories the same. If this is to happen then we have to scaffold. Otherwise, allow Darwinism to occur. Don’t scaffold and let the strongest survive, while the rest wilt by the side of the road on their way to extinction. I once saw a political cartoon that best sums up our unrealistic system. The picture showed a group of animals standing in front of a teacher on exam day: it showed a bird, a chimp, an alligator, an elephant, a fish, and a lion. The exam was to climb a tree; all of the animals were expected to pass because no animal was to be left behind. And if they were all chimps or birds, they’d pass with flying colors. But alas, they are not all the same, so therefore, some animals would need help to get up the tree, if they are expected to pass the test. You are an unrealistic idealist who needs to spend some time with the variety of students who exist in today’s schools, where failing to “win the game” has a lot more severe consequences than just losing the trophy. Teachers are torn: either we scaffold, removing it as much as possible (however sometimes the structure will fall if we remove it all the way), or we need to be allowed to fail kids without hearing that we are heartless wretches. If you really want autonomy, you must accept the fact that we are going to leave a lot of children in our wake. We cannot later look back and complain that we “failed students” if we are not allowed to let them fail. And if we are not allowed to let them fail, then we must employ every strategy and tactic known to teachers to keep all the kids from sinking. So which way do you suggest? Dawainism or Scaffolding?
Neither: you missed my point entirely. The goal is autonomy, for each and every child, no matter their situation. We design backward from a goal, whether it’s school, parenting or water polo. Your choice is a false one. The need is for a plan that puts them on a path to autonomy – otherwise, what? when you’re gone?
Nowhere did I say this was easy; nowhere did I advocate social Darwinism. Don’t let your despair and the poor conditions you work under make you lose site of your GOAL, however.
The post reminds me of John Wooden and something I read recently about his way of teaching/coaching in PRACTICE PERFECT, the newish book by three educators at the Uncommon Schools: “Unlike many coaches, he focused not on scrimmaging – playing in a way that replicated the game – but on drilling, that is playing in ways that intentionally distorted the game to emphasize and isolate specific concepts and skills” (2). I believe that the idea behind this was that game situations are unpredictable and hard to replicate, but what he could guarantee was that his players built a large repertoire of skills, which Wooden did by isolating specific things and drilling them until they were permanent — and able to be relied on in any situation. There was a clear progression in the skills taught with extraordinary emphasis on practice — and even on the seemingly smallest of things. Nothing was overlooked. I believe Wooden would say that this kind of practice and drill is what leads to a skill repertoire that would enable beautiful execution and autonomy in a game situation, when the coach is on the sidelines but unable to control what happens on the field. I may not have gotten this entirely right, but I am eager to read more about Wooden and his teaching/coaching. Seems like a potential treasure chest for teachers.
Funny, but Gradual Release has been front and center in my mind this past year, and mainly when I look in the mirror at my own practice as a professional developer. When I work with teachers on lesson design, how am I using the principle of Gradual Release to teach teachers how to independently create solid lessons on a day-to-day basis? Are my three-day lesson design trainings do the trick?
Sadly, not thus far, from what I’m seeing in the trenches. I’m fortunate in that a small portion of my current job allows me to mentor teachers as they compile National Board portfolios. Remember that the Board’s process is asking them to cough up what they consider to be a handful of their very, very BEST lessons, to be scrutinized by external scorers.
So I consider myself lucky–these sessions allow me time and space to crawl into a Resident Teacher’s brain, to see what–in their own most professional opinion–constitutes quality lesson design. What did they learn in college about lesson design that they are now implementing, on-the-job (and away from the watchful eyes of their professors)? What is the “mental template” that they have internalized, and use on a day-to-day basis? These one-on-one sessions allow me the rare chance to see this!
The bad news is that Gradual Release, as an overarching concept, is pretty much missing. It’s safe to say that I never see it in the first draft of a lesson. Keep in mind, also, that most of these teachers have been teaching for four to seven years, so that translates into quite a negative impact on quite a few students over the years. It’s as though the crazy, frenetic pace of day-to-day teaching causes them to miss the forest for the trees—with the “forest” being autonomy as the goal for student learning.
The good news is that once I dust off the concept of Gradual Release for them, their faces light up. “Oh, yeah! I remember ‘them’ talking about that, back in college! Now it all makes sense to me…” If I had a nickel for every time I’ve heard that phrase. It literally reminds them of their initial hopes and dreams around teaching. It’s a perfect example of “learning on demand,” or of learning exactly what you need to, in-the-moment, as the need arises.
But, while these moments are wonderful for me to witness, it also opens up more questions and frustrations for me, when I consider the other hats I wear in our Teaching and Learning Office. Do you mind if I list them?
Why does it take so many years for this design concept to click with teachers? How many years does it take to master the craft of lesson design? One? Five? Ten? In my own case, it was probably closer to ten. Why do we make them (and students) suffer during this learning curve? Is it reasonable to expect the skill set of a lesson designer of a Resident Teacher? Where are the training wheels?
And what would those training wheels look like? Scripted lessons? And where are these mythical scripted lessons (because I haven’t really seen them yet, and I’ve been looking for quite a few years). Early in my career, I taught in Japan, where I was struck by the fact that I could walk into any local bookstore and buy a book, written by a regular classroom teacher, detailing an elegantly designed lesson that was commonly taught, and that dovetailed with their national curriculum. It reminded me of a little book my cousin once wrote about how to brew beer in the basement. Apparently, the taste of his brew was legendary. His buddies admired this skill and encouraged him to write a book to share his secrets with other enthusiasts. He never made a lot of money on the book, but he made some, and he felt that he contributed to his “field.” I just hope that I live long enough to see the day that a well crafted lesson plan will achieve such celebrity status here.
The only other alternatives to solving this riddle around how to build lesson design expertise quicker involve time and money—more release time for teachers to collaborate on lessons, more team-teaching, more mentoring, etc., so there’s no use going down that path.
Any other ideas?
This post is a beautiful example of how transfer and empowerment are the two sides of the same coin. Thank you!
Too often we teachers get so busy teaching that we forget to give space for deep learning to happen – extensive scaffolding prevents learners to become independent in their learning. The hardest part in education is to understand how leaning and teaching are two different processes, intertwined, yet separate. And finding the ideal balance between the two is always situational (or contextual) and individual, because the answer lies in the interactions between the teacher and student (primary feedback loops).
If I want my students to be accountable for their own learning, I must allow them to learn how to make good choices, and here the empowerment comes into the picture. Communicating my trust of my student’s ability to choose wisely to improve her/his own understanding means handing over the tools of learning to the student. This enables me as their teacher to spend more time in supporting their learning than monitoring or managing their products – which further increases the transfer of their (deep) learning.
I studied teaching in Finland, and I honestly think that one contributing factor to Finnish PISA success is the empowerment. And my sincere belief is the best teacher being the one who makes her/himself gradually unnecessary – by empowering students to become autonomous learners.
Thanks for this reply, especially in your direct linking of autonomy to empowerment. That accords with my own many years of experience in doing student-led discussions. It was also of interest to me – and I am sure our readers – what you had to say about Finland and its successes.
Judith
I think gradual release of responsibility by the teacher is an essential component of transfer . If the goal of the teacher is to help students to become autonomous, then he or she should serve as a guide. This can happen if the scholars understand the essence of leraning every topic and how that topic can be applied or is connected to their life. Without that spirit, and if scholars learn only to succeed in assessments, then it is not meaningful learning.
Scholars need to take ownwership of their learning. In order for this to happen, they need to be conversant with some skills. They need to be able to read at grade level and to be able to use critical thinking skills. If scholars are equipped with these skills, then the ground is set for gradual release of responsibilty by the teacher.
Collaborative planning is essential for students to become increasingly independent. During collaborative planning, teams can analyzed data and look for strategies to help in closing the achievement gap. The classroom focused improvement plan process becomes important. Openness by team members in analyzing data and working to improve performance is vital.
I fully agree. Many teachers get misled by performance on their own quizzes or worksheets and wrongly infer that the student is now bale to transfer the learning that they prompted for on the quiz/worksheet. But of course there is no such evidence since the recall as prompted. That’s why the game vs drill analogy is so helpful. The student has to SELF-PROMPT (whether it be in real life or on a never seen before test question) for us to say – yes, they got it.
Many teachers mistakenly think that just because there was ‘independent practice’ of the single skill that transfer has been set in motion. But transfer is only truly present if the stduent strategically chooses from a repertoire at the right time.
Transfer is my practice of employing the wet paper bag theory, in that you know that you got it when you can apply the skills learned in varying situation…the ability to rip open a paper bag and then freak out when given a wet paper bag or one of a difference color.
Autonomy is knowing when and how to apply previous knowledge to various situations. As a teacher my job is to relinquish or “transfer power” in order to get my students thinking critically on their own. Otherwise I will find myself scaffolding and prompting forever.
I see this a lot in my classroom because students have grown familiar and comfortable with me “doing the thinking for them!”
My goal is to began to give them the base knowledge to allow them to go off and take intellectual risks!
Indeed! A lot easier to say than do, of course 🙂 A tip: think like a coach. Get them ‘playing the game’ and watch them from the ‘sidelines’, taking notes (whether the game is a discussion, a lab, a project).