Being Brave Enough
Why taking reasonable risks in teaching can have a big payoff in student engagement
I was recently made aware by a good friend and colleague that I have a reputation for being a risk-taker in my teaching practice. That kind of surprised me, but I suppose it is true: I’ve reached a point in my career that I can usually accurately weigh out whether a relatively “risky” pedagogical move will pay off, and I am likely to try unconventional teaching moves. But this wasn’t always the case! Especially early in my career, I wasn’t always so quick to take big swings. In fact, it might surprise you to hear that I’m actually fairly risk-averse person. I don’t want to find myself looking foolish, or worse, feeling like I’ve failed. (Ugh.)
Over the twenty-odd years I’ve been teaching, however, I’ve learned the value in taking small, reasonable risks. I’m not talking about “tear up your whole teacher’s manual” or “completely stop lecturing and only use collaborative, project-based learning” kinds of risks here. I’m thinking more of, “What would happen if I tried a different way to have students submit their work?” or “What if I used a different strategy for making groups?” or “Are there different protocols I might be able to use for leading discussions?” These might feel risky, but they are small enough tweaks that if I try them, and they don’t go well, it’s relatively easy to pick up the pieces and try something else, or even go back to more familiar territory.
I’ve been intentionally practicing this kind of reasonable risk-taking this semester. I’m teaching a brand new course (I’ve shared a bit about this in a previous newsletter) and so far it’s going well! The interesting thing for me is that it’s a Core course, not an Education course, which means I have a much more diverse group of students than I typically do.
Here’s the truth I’ve discerned: the Education majors I have the privilege of serving have the benefit of being trained to think pedagogically—which means they tend to be much more willing to go along with Mulder’s “daring acts of pedagogy,” even if only to see how things might unfold.
But this is where my new course gets a little scarier for my risk-averse self: this course is a Core capstone course, so it’s one that is made up of upperclassmen who have been deep into their major coursework, and haven’t had a Core course in a while. I do have a sprinkling of Education majors amongst the Social Work, Engineering, Agriculture, Business, and Psychology majors, but very, very few of them have had me as an instructor before. So here is my fearful thing: teaching a Core course, populated mostly by seniors who don’t know me, and are generally not used to “creative” pedagogy that is more common in Education courses.
What to do? Shift into more traditional pedagogy that these students might find more comfortable? Or continue to bring my sparkly, silly, story-telling approach that I have found more successful in my teaching?
Well, dear reader, true to form…I chose the latter, but with an eye toward the former. Honestly, I do find myself lecturing more in this course than in most courses. But I’m also taking more small risks as the semester continues to unfold. Let the daring acts of pedagogy commence!
For example, early on I decided I would ask students use an old-school composition notebook for note-taking and capturing their reflections throughout this course. I actually went out and bought one for each of them, and gave it to them in the first week of the class. This felt a little counter-cultural for students who are very used to taking notes digitally! And, to be clear, I never mandated that they had to use the notebook. But I definitely encouraged it, and most are now so used to it that they don’t even blink when I suggest, “Grab your notebooks, and let’s do a 2-minute quickwrite in response to this prompt…” In fact, I’ve had a couple of students specifically say how much they are enjoying using the composition books, which was gratifying.
Another small risk: I always start class with music, and a discussion prompt to get them talking—and keep them from defaulting to scrolling on their phones. The discussion prompts often are a call-back to the things they have read for class to help them recall the readings, and make a personal connection to the topic of the day. It is fascinating to me to see how the students have just become very accustomed to this now that we are about five weeks into the term, and—dare I say it?—they seem to even enjoy it.
Still another small risk: I have been creating one-page reading guides for each daily reading. (Which is typically just one or two chapters.) I give them four or five questions on a sheet to help surface some of the key ideas I want them to notice from the readings. The expectation is that will come with the sheet completed for each class meeting; I don’t collect them, or anything like that, but we do use them as part of our discussions of the readings, so there is some built-in accountability. I was a little apologetic about these, but one student (not an Education major) specifically said to me, “If more of my professors would give us a reading guide like this, I would do more of the reading they assign.” Ooof. That was a pretty compelling encouragement to keep creating these!
Based on these initial successes with some early small risks, I’m trying some bolder moves now. When some students gave me the feedback that they actually really enjoy talking with their classmates about the things we are considering in the course, but feel like they regularly only talk to the people they are sitting next to, I hauled out an oldie that I learned from an elementary teacher: season partners. I had students navigate choosing “summer,” “fall,” “winter,” and “spring” partners. The way I did this:
“Summer” = someone with a similar (the same?) major as you
“Fall” = someone with a very different major than yours
“Winter” = someone in this class that you don’t know very well at all
“Spring” = totally random—choose a fourth partner!
And now, when it’s time for a discussion, I’ll just say, “Grab your ‘winter’ partner and let’s talk about…” And they do it!
And so, last week, I decided to make an even bolder move, implementing one of my favorite discussion techniques: the “walkie-talkie.” I said to my students, “All right, team…I think we’re at a point where we trust each other, yeah?” And they nodded along. So I went for it: “Thanks in advance—you all have been such great sports will all the weird stuff I’m asking you to try in this class. This one might stretch you even more.” Lots of grins from the group, almost saying, “Let’s hear it, Mulder…”
So explained the idea of the walkie-talkie:
Get together with your “fall” partner, and take your reading guide for today’s reading with you.
Take a seven-minute walk with your partner, and share your responses to questions 2, 3, and 4 on the reading guide. Walk wherever you want, but please be back in this room in seven minutes.
When you get back, be ready to share one thing you discussed on your walkie-talkie—a surprise, an affirmation, or a new idea you are now wondering about.
And…off they went!
I recorded a video of myself after the left, expressing my concern with taking this risk…and posted it on Instagram as a reel.
And then…I waited by the door for the students to come back.
About six minutes and thirty seconds after they left, the first pair came back. And then another, and then a few more. Within eight minutes, they were all back. As one of that last duos came in, I hear one student whispering to his partner: “That might be the weirdest thing I’ve ever done in a college class. Not bad, but weird…” (Gotta say, that felt like a win!)
I had them rearrange to check in with their “summer” partners, and share something that came up. I had a hard time breaking in to get the group back together; they were having a rich discussion!
Two big things that I’ve found throughout this process of taking small risks to get students to buy in to the seemingly-odd things I’m asking them to do:
I am quick to explain to students why I’m inviting them to do these “weird” things in class—there is a method to the madness, and I’m not just being weird for sake of being weird. I’m trying to use what I’ve learned about effective pedagogy rooted in learning theory, and high-yield teaching strategies that have a basis in educational research. Depending on the age of your students, that might make the difference for getting them to buy-in.
I am also quick to thank them for their willingness to play along and try things. I’m working to create a classroom culture that is about “we,” and not just “me.” High School Musical really did have it right: we really are “all in this together.” And I’m grateful when my students contribute to that kind of culture by exhibiting a sense of playfulness and willingness to try new things.
I hope this is the big idea that comes through as I share this story: it’s not that you have to upend your whole teaching practice! But maybe this gives you an encouragement to try something? So, what do you think, educator? Are you willing to take a reasonable risk? You don’t have to change everything, and certainly not all at once. But maybe being “brave enough” will pay off for your students’ learning as well?
Dave’s Faves
Here are three things I’m absolutely loving right now that I hope you might love too…
Dave’s Fave #1: Prairie Walks
I absolutely love Dordt’s prairie, and while I find it beautiful at any time of the year (even in the dead of winter!) there is something particularly breathtaking about the wildflowers as the late summer slides into fall…
Dave’s Fave #2: Mutemath by Mutemath
Mutemath is one of my favorite bands and I love that I simply stumbled onto them completely by accident. Sometime around 2007(?) I was wandering down the Wikipedia rabbit hole, and somehow was reading the page about keytars—those weird, hybrid keyboard-guitars. And on that page? A link to a band called Mutemath that I had never heard of, whose lead singer often played a keytar in live shows.
So I gave them a listen. And they were exactly my kind of music. They are Christians without being a “Christian band” (whatever that means?) They are technical musicians who are masters at their craft, they write thoughtful lyrics, they have a weird/great sense of humor, and their music videos are all kinds of creative. (Here’s an example, for their song “Blood Pressure,” off of their 2011 album, Odd Soul. It’s fascinating—kind of live-action stop-motion, if that makes any sense at all??)
Their debut album, Mutemath, is still my favorite, but they had several other really good ones before breaking up 2017. (I mean, technically the band continues…but it’s just one guy at this point, yeah? So is it really a band?)
I recommend this album to you, particularly the biggest hit from this record, “Typical.”
Dave’s Fave #3: Reading in community!
I love to read, but sometimes I find I need a little motivation to read something that will be challenging and enriching. This year, I’m part of a group of colleagues from a wide variety of different departments who are all banding together to read works by noted theologian and scholar, Richard Mouw. We had our first book discussion last week; we had read Mouw’s excellent (and accessible) book, Uncommon Decency. I heartily recommend it to you, even if you don’t have a fabulously-geeky group of professor friends to read with.
An Update about My Book!
If you’ve been following along with this newsletter for sometime, you may remember me talking about my book-writing project. It’s a book about developing a “teacher imagination,” and in particular about teaching Christianly. The primary audience is future teachers in a teacher preparation program, but I think any Christian educator will find it helpful, encouraging, and maybe even a little inspirational.
Here’s the update: I’m very happy to say that I’ve signed a contract with a publisher! This is really happening, friends! I’ll keep you posted about the timeline for publication. Thanks to the many of you who have offered such kind words of encouragement about it; I’m excited to get it out into the world!
The Last Word!
This week’s kind encouragement to you all, friends, is to take a small, reasonable risk in your teaching practice. Try something that might feel a little out-of-the-box for you, something that might demand a little creativity, resourcefulness, and flexibility. That might feel a little scary, yeah? (It is for me too, friends!) But I hope you’ll be bold enough to give it a whirl. As the German psychologist Erich Fromm once wrote, “Creativity requires the courage to let go of certainties.”
May we all be brave enough to step into a little uncertainty this week!