“In a typical lesson you decide, often quickly. Then you decide, decide, and decide again. You are a batter facing a hundred pitches in a row…What do you need to decide quickly, reliably, and well, while thinking about other things under a bit of pressure in the form, of, say, twenty-nine restless students, twenty-five minutes’ worth of work left to get done, and a ticking clock to remind you that you have fifteen minutes left in the class period?” (3). 

His solution is a mental model, that is, a framework to understand complex environments. In this case, teachers can filter the plethora of time-sensitive decisions before them through a grid of principles for a successful lesson. While teaching is a craft that takes extended time to master, Lemov believes that growth in the craft can occur much more rapidly through adopting a mental model composed of core principles. 

While Doug Lemov was developing his mental model for a successful lesson, classical education expert Christopher Perrin has been refining his own set of principles for sound classroom pedagogy. His course Principles of Classical Pedagogy through ClassicalU offers ten principles, or pedagogies, of great teaching. 

In this article, I will briefly review Lemov’s and Perrin’s lists of principles before going on to suggest three points of similarity, followed by three areas of difference. In doing so, I will demonstrate the value of insights gained through cognitive psychology and learning science, while arguing for the importance of situating any great teaching practice within a broader philosophy of education that takes seriously the full-orbed reality of what it means to teach and form human beings.

The Mental Model for an Effective Lesson

Through offering a mental model, Lemov seeks to help a teacher, first, grow in understanding of how learning works and, second, perceive accurately what their students need most to thrive in their classrooms. It is one thing, Lemov thinks, to have a set of teaching principles, such as “check for understanding” or “ratio,” two common phrases in the TLaC series. It is another thing to have an additional set of learning principles that “…can help explain why certain methods work as well as how and when to use them” (5).  In this way, Lemov’s five principles that comprise his mental model seek to offer guidance for both teaching and learning simultaneously. 

Let us review them now:

Principle 1: Understanding human cognitive structure means building long-term memory and managing working memory.

Lemov’s first principle focuses on the distinction between long-term and working memory in order to implement teaching practices that build long-term memory. The general idea is that while working memory is immediately accessible, it is extremely limited in capacity. Humans can only hold so much new information in their mind’s eye. Immediately following the exposure to new information, the forgetting process begins. The way to build long-term memory and strengthen the durability of knowledge is to implement retrieval practice techniques in which students are called upon to remember, or retrieve, what they were taught in the past. 

Principle 2: Habits accelerate learning.

Similar to the first principle, this second one offers guidance on how to use one’s cognition as efficiently as possible. The reality is that each day we are bombarded with common, everyday activities that require our attention. But what if we could put the mental effort of these mental tasks on autopilot in order to focus on more important work? This is the concept, described in cognitive terms, of a habit. The more we can help students put menial scholastic work on autopilot, from reading fluency to math fact automaticity to getting out a notebook to begin writing, the more they can focus their minds and wills on understanding deeper, more complex concepts. If you haven’t already, be sure to download Patrick Egan’s free Ebook and watch the webinar on how to help students build great habits.

Principle 3: What students attend to is what they will learn about.

This may go without saying, but focused concentration is the key to efficient and effective learning. And yet, we are all aware that there is a growing deficit of ability to attend to something for an extended amount of time in our world today. This principle seeks to equip students “…to lose themselves in a task and work at it steadily for a significant period of time, which means a setting where concentration can reliably be maintained and tasks and activities where the ability to focus is carefully cultivated” (20). Jason Barney’s The Joy of Learning offers a great path forward to implement this idea, known as “flow,” in the classical classroom. His webinar on the topic is also excellent.

Principle 4: Motivation is social.

It can be tempting to focus on the learning of each individual student, but this principle reminds us that humans thrive when they work together. In this way, the learning process, including the motivation to learn, occurs at both the individual and social level. Successful lessons occur within classroom cultures in which the norms and values of the classroom encourage individual hard work and intentional team work.

Principle 5: Teaching well is relationship building. 

The final principle Lemov identifies for an effective mental model of teaching and learning focuses on the power of relationships. Specifically, he emphasizes that the teacher-student relationship is one in which the student feels safe, successful, and known. Safety includes physical safety, yes, but also the intellectual safety to take risks. Success refers to the fact that a key objective of any lesson should be to help a student learn or do something. Finally, a student feeling known fulfills a core desire wired into all human beings for them to develop a sense of belonging. 

Overall, I find Lemov’s mental model, understood through these five principles, to be a helpful framework. The task of learning and mastering 63 “techniques” for a new and developing teacher is daunting. But equipping them with five big ideas, or principles, through which to filter their classroom decision-making and priorities, can simplify the teaching craft and clarify where to focus.

Perrin’s Principles of Classical Pedagogy

Now let us turn to classical education expert Christopher Perrin’s ten principles of classical pedagogy. According to an article written this past summer, Perrin is currently working on a book with fellow classical education consultant Carrie Eben that will seek to unpack these principles in order to equip great teaching. As a side note, we interviewed Eben on our podcast, which you can listen to here.

While Perrin does not use language of a mental model, it seems that his principles function in a similar way. By call them principles, rather than practices, he is directing us to think about the broader convictions teachers can adopt to govern specific practices. In other words, these principles exist less as a checklist and more as a filter. Teachers can measure a lesson against these principles in order to gain insight about how to strengthen the teaching and learning that goes on in their classrooms.

Given that Perrin’s article linked above provides brief descriptions for each principle, I will simply refer you to that article and list them out here. They are as follows:

1. Make haste slowly: take time to master each step.
2. Do fewer things, but do them well: it is better to master a few things well than to cover cursory content.
3. Repetition is the mother of memory: revisiting and reviewing past lessons deepens both affection and understanding.
4. The one who loves can sing and remember: the importance of songs, jingles, and chants.
5. Wonder commences learning that will last.
6. Order time and space for deep thought: cultivate leisure (schole) and contemplation. 
7. Embodied rhythms, liturgies, and routines shape the soul.
8. Students learn by teaching: knowledge taught is twice-learned.
9. The best teacher is a good book: the teacher becomes the tutor and a three-way conversation begins.
10. Learn in community through conversation: this creates a friendship of the soul that gives birth to deep and mutual learning.

What a fascinating list! Immediately, we can see the contrast between Lemov and Perrin in light of the language they deploy. Lemov’s focus is primarily material, in nature: cognition, socialization, and relationships all exist within an immanent frame of being in the world. In contrast, Perrin clearly values the spiritual and transcendent dimension on the same plane as the immanent. His desire for students to grow in love, virtue, reverence, and contemplation–beyond mere cognitive achievement–stands out.

What the Principles Have in Common 

There are three key ways I see Lemov and Perrin displaying similarity in the principles they prescribe. 

First, both approaches respect deep work and the building of durable knowledge. Lemov captures this value through his distinction between working and long-term memory as well as his emphasis on habits and attention. Perrin encourages teachers to proceed slowly and deeply through a lesson in order to build a strong foundation.

Second, both approaches appreciate the power of habit and attention. Obviously, habits and attention are the explicit focus for Lemov. He underscores the value of cultivating the right processes for learning to occur. It is not merely what or how much a student learns; it is how. Similarly, Perrin encourages the mastery of each step and using strategies like liturgies and chants to strengthen the learning experience.

Third, both approaches underscore the centrality of relationship in the learning process. Lemov grounds relationships in the power of motivation and social-emotional learning. Perrin looks to classical ideas about friendship and the formation of the soul to demonstrate the centrality of community in the classroom. 

How the Principles Diverge 

Nevertheless, there are core differences in which the prescribed principles diverge.

First, it is clear that while Perrin conceives of education as the full formation of a student (mind, heart, body, and soul), Lemov prioritizes the cognitive and emotional. While I do not think it is fair to say that Lemov values product over persons, I do think his view of humanity is limited by his secular vantage point. This anthropology lacks a moral dimension as well. If students are basically a bundle of cells directed by a nervous system, then the most that teachers can do is strengthen cognition and build “productive” social environments. But if students are eternal and embodied souls made in God’s image, then we need a different list, such as Perrin’s, to shape these souls accordingly. 

Second, and related, Perrin offers a compelling vision for learning, whereas Lemov only offers pragmatic motivation. From the very beginning, Perrin is clear that the goal of all education is wisdom and virtue. He writes, “By employing the following principles, teachers will naturally cultivate virtues of love, humility, fortitude,  diligence, constancy and temperance in the lives of their students.” In contrast, Lemov’s focus continues to be college and career readiness. While his preface does indicate a vision for cultivating an equitable and just society, within the D.E.I. stream of thinking, you can tell he is wrestling with the merits of this ideology, and ultimately fails to move beyond a myopic focus on the pragmatic benefits of education.

Finally, Perrin honors the situatedness of students in time and not merely space. He does so by recognizing the value of carrying on the rich tradition of goodness, truth, and beauty from the past into the future. His emphasis on great books, contemplation, poetry, and liturgy remind us that education possesses a broader cultural and civilizational significance, and therefore, responsibility. While both Lemov and Perrin rightly emphasize the paradox that humans both exist as individuals and members in communities, Lemov fails to address that we exist in communities of both space and time. A central goal of education includes honoring one’s intellectual, cultural, and religious heritage, and passing on the torch of this heritage to future generations.

Conclusion

In sum, there are benefits to both the mental model that Lemov proposes and Perrin’s list of pedagogical principles. Where Lemov falls short is where modern education usually does: failing to grasp the full-orbed nature of a human being and the implications this places on educators. Insights from cognitive psychology and the latest learning science will continue to improve the learning that goes on in our classrooms, and classical educators do well to implement these strategies in the classroom.

But we must not lose sight of the deeper and fuller reality of what it means to be human: that our students are made in God’s image, that they are embodied souls, that there is a moral universe to navigate as well as a physical one, and ultimately, that there is a God who intentionally designed and commissioned the human race to cultivate His goodness, truth, and beauty in the world. Through the incarnation of the Son of God, we are reminded that humanity is indeed special and unique in God’s sight, that our embodiedness is indeed good, and that through Christ, our fallenness can be redeemed for His purposes, including in the classroom.

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The post The Search for Great Teaching: A Comparison of <i>Teach Like a Champion 3.0</i> and Christopher Perrin’s Pedogogical Principles appeared first on .

• The material cause is the physical “stuff” that makes up a thing’s composition. 
• The formal cause is the design, shape, or arrangement of a thing.

• The efficient cause is the agent that brings the thing into existence.
• The final cause is the purpose or end for which the thing exists.

Together these causes serve as the foundation for whatever knowledge we can know about anything that exists.

In this article, I will explore the final cause, or purpose, of teaching. It practically goes without saying that there is great confusion in the world today about what the purpose of education is, broadly speaking, and teaching in particular. What precisely is the teaching act and what is its end goal?

Let us take a modern primer on teaching as an example. Doug Lemov’s Teach Like a Champion series of primers on teaching techniques provide excellent advice for equipping teachers to lead effective, efficient, and dynamic classrooms. From implementing tactics like “Cold Cold” to “Least Invasive Intervention,” new teachers can quickly take charge of their classrooms and provide an environment for inspiring learning to occur.

But the underlying problem with Lemov’s approach is that it fails to provide a satisfactory final cause, or purpose, of teaching. The subtitle for his books continues to point to “putting students on the path to college” as the goal. This objective, though important, is outdated, shortsighted, and paints an incomplete picture of what it means to be human. It is outdated because college is decreasingly the primary target for high school graduates. With the exponential increase in the cost to go to college and the growing attractiveness of trade schools, the traditional college route can no longer be taken for granted as sufficient motivation for PreK-12 education. Second, Lemov’s implicit purpose for teaching is shortsighted because even if college is, or should be, the sole target for high school graduates, it is only preparing them for the next four years. But what about life after that? What about the early years of one’s career? What about marriage and family? What about church membership, community involvement, and civic participation? What about navigating life’s challenges as a son or daughter, uncle or aunt, husband or wife, father or mother? With this wide range of stages and challenges for people to navigate, how can PreK-12 education only focus on college?

This leads to my final point: these techniques, though useful in some respects, paint an incomplete picture of what it means to be human. Not only do they only aim, at best, to prepare students for a four-year phase, the focus on the cognitive domain of a student’s development generates confusion about what it means to be human. To put a sharper point on it, Lemov’s work is not merely a myopic focus on the cognitive domain to the neglect of say, the moral. It is ultimately an economic, or careerist, approach to human development. In our secular world, the focus is on living one’s best life now: on experiencing as much pleasure as possible, accumulating as many possessions as one can, earning as much status as possible, and living with optimal comfort. In this sense, we could just as easily rephrase the Teach Like a Champion subtitles to “putting students on the path to an affluent and comfortable life.”

This is a sorrowful and depressing vision for the good life indeed. God created our students for so much more than to merely pursue a comfortable life. Made in the image of God, humans are created with the unique capacities to reason, to create, to cultivate beauty, and, ultimately, to steward their lives, including the people and duties they are responsible for, with excellence. If our students are to fulfill this vocation, their teachers need to grab hold of a bigger vision for the goal of what they do. They need a final cause, as Aristotle would put it, that is worth true dedication to their craft.

Let us explore, then, some alternative ways to think about the great cause of teaching.

Putting the Puzzle Together

In The Idea of a Christian School (Cascade Books, 2024), Educational leader Tom Stoner argues that education is one of the most powerful influences in our lives. A key reason, writes Stoner, is that education aids a child in her constructed understanding of the world. The formation of this understanding is like putting together a puzzle. Each piece represents a different bit of information children receive, including ideas, emotions, experiences, facts, and knowledge (2). Schooling plays a major role in the assembly of this puzzle. 

So it seems that one way dimension of the goal of teaching is to help a child develop a coherent understanding of the world, one in which all the pieces fit together. Note that even with this cognitive focus, the goal is not college; it is human development. In addition, Stoner will go on to demonstrate that behind the scenes of helping a child “put the puzzle pieces together,” lies a particular vision of the good life. The puzzle, when put together, makes a big picture. What is that picture? Drawing from the classical tradition of the ancient Greeks, Stone believes that this picture, or vision, inevitably dictates a school’s priorities, including what teacherse expected to accomplish in the classroom.

In other words, teaching possesses a cognitive aim, helping a child make sense of her world, and a moral one. The moral aim is to help students grasp a particular vision for human flourishing and desire it. In this way, the goal of teaching, we could say, is not only educational, it is formational. 

One Goal in Seven Laws

John Milton Gregory, author of The Seven Laws of Teaching, seems to agree. In the opening pages to his book, Gregory puts forward a vision of human flourishing that find its culmination in “the full grown physical, intellectual, and moral manhood, with such intelligence as is necessary to make life useful and happy, and as will fit the soul to go on learning from all the scenes of life and from all the available sources of knowledge” (11). The goal of teaching, for Gregory, is the work of transforming a child into a mature and intelligent human. 

Interestingly, however, Gregory does not stop there. In his exposition of the seven laws of teaching, Gregory offers clues for the ways the different elements of the teaching process fit together to achieve this purpose. For example, the first law focuses on knowledge and the importance of the teacher knowing that which she would teach. The second law focuses on the role of learner, a pupil who attends with interest.

If we put all of Gregory’s laws together into a singular formulation of the goal of teaching, it might go something like this: The goal of teaching is to cultivate a student’s growth in wisdom and virtue through the dynamic interrelation of teacher and student as they conjointly pursue knowledge for ever-deepening understanding.

Tried and True

So far in this article, I have examined one primer on teaching, the Teach Like a Champion series. More recently, Daniel Coupland, professor of education at Hillsdale College, published his own primer: Tried and True (Hillsdale College Press, 2022), “a teaching manual of best practices for sound pedagogy.” This book seeks to introduce the fundamentals of teaching for a new teacher through fourteen “imperative statements.”

Interestingly, Coupland himself does not articulate an overarching goal of teaching. He therefore does not align with Lemov on a college-preparation approach, but nor does he offer an alternative. No doubt, in interest of his primer remaining brief and practical akin to Strunk and White’s grammatical primer The Elements of Style, he avoids the philosophical. The result, however, is that the book comes across as overly focused on the cognitive, that is, the head knowledge without the heart (moral and spiritual formation).

To his credit, Coupland does spend a chapter on connecting one’s teaching to the broader purpose of one’s school. His first imperative statement is to “Follow the School’s Mission.” Certainly whatever the goal of teaching is, it is inextricably linked with the purpose of the school in which it occurs. Insofar as the school’s mission does articulate a purpose for what happens in the classroom, this could provide a satisfactory goal for teaching.

Another way the primer points to a broader goal of teaching is Coupland’s seventh imperative, “Plans Lessons Purposefully,” in which he advises teachers to focus on student learning. Here he distinguishes between the nebulous phrase “covering content” and actually teaching it. Coupland encourages teachers to craft objectives for each lesson regarding the knowledge, skill, or experience they are aiming for their students to obtain. This emphasis on the cognitive aspect of teaching is not dissimilar from Gregory’s. The chief difference is that while Gregory goes on to articulate a moral dimension of the goal of teaching, Coupland remains focused on the cognitive.

What Bloom Gets Wrong

Here, of course, I cannot help but think of Jason Barney’s recent work on Bloom’s taxonomy. In Rethinking the Purpose of Education (Educational Renaissance, 2023), Barney offers a critique of Bloom’s organization of the cognitive aims of education and proposes a replacement through retrieval of Aristotle’s intellectual virtues. In doing so, Barney helpfully points out that the training of intellectual abilities and skills is at best an incomplete picture of what it means to educate humans.

In Chapter 4 specifically, B​​arney maps out a correspondence between Bloom’s six objective categories in the cognitive domain with Aristotle’s five intellectual virtues, including the seven liberal arts. After commenting on this correspondence and then offering a restructured approach in which Bloom’s is filtered through Aristotle’s virtues, Barney writes, “In summary, then, Aristotle’s intellectual virtues restore the intellectual virtues of the body and heart, the educational importance of beautiful craftsmanship and skill, as well as the moral wisdom of a life well lived. In addition, the virtue of philosophic wisdom clarifies a new crowning achievement of true education that Bloom’s Taxonomy does not have the resources to grasp” (72).

In this way, through returning to an Aristotelian framework, Barney proposes a profound and deeply human purpose of education, and by extension teaching, that will prepare students for a life, not mere college experience, of flourishing.

Conclusion

In this article, I have explored various ways to think about the final cause, or goal, of teaching. If we are to train teachers well in the craft of teaching, they need to understand the purpose for this craft. While teaching primers are valuable for providing techniques and practices for immediate implementation in the classroom, if they are disconnected from the final cause of teaching, the work will grow stale. In this way, we could say these primers address the material and formal cause of teaching, but do not address the efficient cause (the teacher) or the final cause (the goal). My hope is that through reading this article, you have gained an expanded vision for what this goal could be and the implications teaching possesses for helping students experience a full and flourishing life. In the end, the cause of teaching is not merely final, it is truly great.

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In this article, we will develop a framework for the classroom centered around the idea that each class is a team. This framework revolves around two general concepts: strong relationships and strategic routines. These might seem either obvious or overly general. But we shall see how essential both are if we want to foster a successful culture in the classroom.

A Good Apple: Cultivating Relational Safety

In his book The Culture Code, Daniel Coyle describes how organizations can create cultures that flourish based on studies of various teams such as the Navy SEALs, the San Antonio Spurs and the Brain Trust at Pixar, to name a few. Coyle structures his book around three skills essential to culture creation: build safety, share vulnerability, and establish purpose. Each of these skills address ways individuals connect to a shared culture, which can be expressed in several diagnostic questions.

When we are aiming to build safety, we can ask a few important questions. Does every individual feel safe to share?  Is there a bond of connection that everyone feels? Is there a sense of identity individuals sense by belonging to this group? Perhaps the most important of the three skills is creating relational connection.

In his chapter entitled, “The Good Apples,” Coyle describes how an experiment was run in Australia studying group dynamics. Planted inside a number of four-person groups was an individual who was intentionally supposed to sabotage the group. This person was a bad apple, attempting—and usually succeeding—in reducing the quality of each group’s performance. Yet, in one instance, a group involved an individual named Jonathan, who effectively checked the attempts of the bad apple. Jonathan—dubbed the good apple—exhibited subtle characteristics that made everyone in the group feel welcomed and valued. Every gesture and statement made by Jonathan enabled the group to feel a connection with the others in the group.

Coyle lists a number of patterns that Jonathan—and other connectors like him—practiced that cause this feeling of safety and connection. He notes “close physical proximity, often in circles” as well as “profuse amounts of eye contact.” There are “lots of short, energetic exchanges (no long speeches)” along with “lots of questions” and “humor, laughter” (Coyle 8). These patterns make a group “sticky.” Members of these groups come to feel a sense of belonging through many reinforcing patterns and practices. While it can be difficult to manufacture such cultures, we can note these patterns and implement them strategically. For instance, when I want to initiate a project, I will call a class to huddle up. American football has made this such a recognizable practice, that my student immediately circle up in a hunched over position. I can give simple pointed instructions and generate excitement, connection and buy in by this “close physical proximity, often in circles” pattern. “Okay, guys, we need to put away all the chairs from assembly. What’s our strategy?” In the huddle, I let them share their ideas and then we get down to work. Moments like this create a culture of belonging and connection. Find simple ways to incorporate patterns like this into your day.

Later in the same chapter, Coyle dives into the work of Pentland to break down five factors of optimal team performance. Like the list of patterns above, these can be implemented to cultivate a sense of teamwork and build culture. Coyle writes:

“1. Everyone in the group talks and listens in roughly equal measure, keeping contributions short.

2. Members maintain high levels of eye contact, and their conversations and gestures are energetic.

3. Members communicate directly with one another, not just with the team leader.

4. Members carry on back-channel or side conversations within the team.

5. Members periodically break, go exploring outside the team, and bring information back to share with the others.”

Daniel Coyle, The Culture Code (Random House, 2018), 14-15.

Notice how much culture is built around quick moments of conversation. As teachers, we are often inclined to stop side conversations. These can be distracting and show a lack of attention towards the subject at hand. Yet, when our goal is building culture, we actually want a good amount of intra-group dialogue to occur. What this means is that we ought to train our students to shift between focused attention and then side-to-side group engagement. Coach students in topic-driven discussion. Provide feedback on roundtable debates and dialogue. This entails that our classrooms are not dominated by mono-directional instruction, such as lectures. Instead, we must become effective at practices like dialogue, debate and discussion.

Another feature of these factors is what we could call distributed leadership. Sure, as teachers we are the leaders of the classroom, often giving orders and instructions and always guiding the class throughout their learning. However, there are ways we can empower students to become champions of the culture we are building. This can occur by training them in how to lead discussions. We can give them rules for effective debate and argumentation. Break down the big group into platoons of teams, assigning different groupings and team leaders each time. These moments of empowerment get the students invested in the creation of a culture that has the stamp of their personalities. While it might feel like this detracts from the teacher’s leadership and authority, when done correctly, the teacher actually accumulates more leadership capital through guiding, coaching and correcting these young, emerging leaders.

The concept of “go exploring” can also feel risky. But notice how that is likewise a major contributor to empowerment and buy-in. The teacher as leader gives clear instructions as to what ought to be explored and what information would be worth sharing. This can be done in the classroom by having students scan back through the chapter for identify beautiful word choices of an author. Students can be assigned the task of coming up with discussion questions for the next chapter. Young students love exploring and finding specimens in nature study. They come back to the teacher and the group with a joyful, “Look what I found!”

I highly recommend reading through all of Coyle’s book whether you are a teacher or administrator. Learning the tools to guide and shape culture enable you to have intentionality in what is built but also a “stickiness” that makes your culture hard to resist. My thesis here as I interacted with Coyle’s first chapter is that we as leaders in our classrooms and schools can be the “good apples” promoting the safety and connection that makes culture possible.

A Champion Culture: Principles and Practices

Here at Educational Renaissance, we really like Doug Lemov’s Teach Like a Champion. Now that he has come out with a new edition, we need to navigate a world where there are great qualities that are the domain of his 2.0 edition as well as new insights published in his 3.0 version. One of the greatest frameworks he provided in the 2.0 version was a write-up of “Five Principles of Classroom Culture”: Discipline, Management, Control, Influence, and Engagement (342-347). Here we’ll walk through a few of these principles and spell out some key practices to implement to build a thriving culture.

Lemov is spot on when it comes to a description of discipline. I am reminded of the classical sense that Latin root discipulina means instruction (much as the Greek word for disciple, μαθητής, means “learner” or “pupil”). Discipline is not about punishment, but about inculcating what Lemov calls “self-discipline.” Charlotte Mason connect this idea to habit training. “There is no habit or power so useful to man or woman as that of personal initiative,” Mason claims (Home Education 192). True freedom comes when we are able to hold ourselves accountable to what we know to be true, good and just.

The second principle Lemov elucidates is management. Unlike what many might expect, he does not promote a system of rewards and punishments. Instead, he equates management to relationship building. He writes:

“To truly succeed, you must be able to control students—that is, get them to do things regardless of consequence, and inspire and engage them in positive work. You also are building relationships with students that are nontransactional; they don’t involve rewards or consequences, and they demonstrate that you care enough to know your students as individuals.”

Doug Lemov, Teach Like a Champion 2.0 (Jossey-Bass, 2015), 344.

This really is Leadership 101. If your class is going to have a healthy culture, there must be a strong relational connection between student and teacher. This relationship serves as a bridge that must hold the weight of coaching, training, instructing and counseling.

Third is control, with Lemov describes as “your capacity to cause someone to choose to do what you ask, regardless of consequences.” Notice how this overlaps with management. There must be a safe and connected group dynamic such as Coyle describes where the teacher can call students up firmly and confidently. This comes from what Lemov expresses as “faith in students’ ability to meet expectation” (Lemov 345). We are not lowering expectations to make it “easy” on the students. Instead, the teacher supports students to reach high and offers support to get there.

The relationship building inherent in management and control leads to the fourth principle, influence. “Influence gets them to want to internalize the things you suggest” (Lemov 346). The control principle is all about the teacher believing in a student’s potential to reach high. Influence now gets the student to believe in herself. This comes through celebrating victories, reflecting on challenges overcome, and setting new goals to reach even higher.

Finally, the principle of engagement centers on compelling lessons. We must be careful here to avoid mere entertainment. A teacher might be gifted in sparking laughter or eloquently delivering lectures. But if the material itself is not appreciated for its intrinsic value, the whole culture can crumble. Exciting lessons are often associated with challenge and complexity. It is fascinating to see how children enjoy trying to solve interesting problems. Reading great books, writing effortfully, and calculating complex problems can be a pathway to flow for students. Engaging students in meaningful work is how to build a culture of excellence.

This philosophical introduction to the late chapters of Teach Like a Champion 2.0 lead to numerous techniques that help build classroom culture. Here I will highlight a few that can maximize your leadership as a teacher. We begin with “Strategic investment” combined with “Do it again.” In both of these you lead rehearsals of the routines, procedures and practices of the classroom. Here you can show exactly how things get done in the classroom, and then repeat the practice until it meets expectations. Consider how this framework leads to organized desks, clear routes for classroom traffic, homework steno checks, hand-raising, or rules for proper discussion.

You as a teacher project something of your personality and authority into the classroom. These next techniques leverage that presence you have in the classroom. From “Be seen looking” to “Firm calm finesse” and “Strong voice,” you convey to the classroom that you are in control of the environment—creating a safe and connected culture—through your ability to notice when students are doing what is expected and calling them up when they fall below standards. Being at peace in the presence of your students lets them know that you are both happy to be with them, but also not ruffled when things get a little out of control. You can bring them back with your strong voice. Now this is not yelling or raising your voice. Instead, you are clear, pointed, and confident in what you have to say.

The words we use make such an impact on the culture we are building. The techniques “Precise praise” and “Joy factor” go a long way towards building up a culture of excellence. With both of these techniques, we avoid phrases such as “good job” or “well done,” instead preferring to specify exactly what was praiseworthy. “Great job raising hands to share your thoughts, class.” “I really appreciated how you supported your claim with evidence.” By being precise, you clearly identify actions that are praiseworthy. This removes mere affirmation of the individual while demonstrating your watchfulness for the excellent standards that are central to your culture. Hard work and new understandings ought to be celebrated, not as a reward but as the natural consequence of the joy intrinsic is such things. Make these moments tangible for your students and provide a framework for taking satisfaction in their work.

As the leader in the classroom, you become the champion of the excellence that will mark your culture. We can be the good apples that create the safe and connected culture where students can thrive. By applying the principles and techniques outlined here, you can create a classroom culture that is a delight.

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Most educators agree that pursuing knowledge is a primary goal of education. But views diverge soon after, specifically when questions about the purpose of knowledge emerge as well as what fields of knowledge to pursue. 

As I have begun working on my first book about the craft of teaching, this question has become of unique interest to me. In particular, as I have been reading Doug Lemov’s Teach Like a Champion 3.0, I have been struck by Lemov’s contagious passion for teaching, learning, and gaining knowledge. This got me thinking, “What drives Lemov? Does the same motivation drive me as a classical educator?”

In this blog, I will present three views on the purpose of knowledge and conclude with the beginnings of a synthesis. Thomas Aquinas, the thinker I have selected to represent the medieval-classical tradition, views knowledge accessed by the liberal arts as the pathway to knowing God, humanity’s greatest happiness. Charlotte Mason emphasizes the moral and psychological impact of knowledge, specifically as it equips the mind to encounter relations between all that we can learn. And Doug Lemov, author of the Teach Like a Champion series focuses on knowledge as the pathway to raising independent students for future opportunities in college and career.

Let us now take a look at each one of these thinkers more closely. 

Thomas Aquinas: Knowledge for Happiness in God 

As a theologian, Thomas conceives of reality through a God-centered lens. Therefore, according to “the angelic doctor,” the pursuit of knowledge is nothing less than the perfection of humanity, which is happiness found in God. 

Thomas writes,

Now, the ultimate end of man, and of every intellectual substance, is called felicity or happiness, because this is what every intellectual substance desires as an ultimate end, and for its own sake alone. Therefore, the ultimate happiness and felicity of every intellectual substance is to know God.

Summa contra Gentiles, Book III, c. 25

Here we see Thomas integrating Aristotelelian metaphysics with his theology to argue that knowledge finds its ultimate purpose in and through knowing God.

How is this knowledge created and justified? From a classical perspective, the answer is the same way all things are made– the arts. Whether one is a carpenter, architect, or painter, she is using a particular art, or skill, to make a new creation. The same is the case for knowledge. Knowledge is fashioned through the arts, namely, the liberal arts.

These liberal arts offer “a particular canon of seven studies that provided the essential tools for all subsequent learning” (Kevin Clark and Ravi Jain, The Liberal Arts Tradition, 2nd ed., 2019, p. 6). The Trivium arts pertain to knowledge about language and the Quadrivium arts pertain to knowledge about number. Together, these arts constitute the seeds and tools of learning.

In summary, knowledge finds its ultimate purpose in knowing God and it is created through the liberal arts, the well-worn paths of learning. By following these paths, students can independently create a vast array of knowledge. 

Practically speaking, students learn the arts of language when they are taught reading, hermeneutics, debate, persuasive speech and writing. And they learn the arts of math when they are taught counting, calculation, measuring, empirical discovery, and theoretical proof (Clark and Jain, 7). These arts are, simply put, the skills students need to make sense of the world and cultivate understanding. As the arts are mastered and knowledge is gained, wisdom is the result.

The importance of this final point cannot be missed. Clark and Jain write,

The goal of education is not simply knowledge for knowledge’s sake, however; the goal of true education is for our knowledge of God, man, and creation to come to full flower in wisdom and for this wisdom to help us better love and serve our neighbor.

Kevin Clark and Ravi Jain, The Liberal Arts Tradition, 2nd ed., 2019, p. 7

While Clark and Jain do not explicitly state happiness in God to be the purpose of knowledge as we saw in Thomas, we can observe a similar vision. We pursue knowledge because we believe this knowledge will lead us to God himself, our source of happiness. The result will be the formation of a wise, servant-hearted human person.

Charlotte Mason: Knowledge for the Flourishing Life 

Next we turn to Charlotte Mason, a British educator dedicated to educational reform at the turn of the 20th century. While Mason is a devoted Christian, her emphasis regarding the purpose of knowledge is less theological and more moral-psychological. Referencing contemporary neuroscience, she argues that knowledge is food for the mind and the key to a flourishing life.

In her sixth and final volume on education, she writes,

A great future lies before the nation which shall perceive that knowledge is the sole concern of education proper, as distinguished from training, and that knowledge is the necessary daily food of the mind.

Towards a Philosophy of Education, pg. 2

Here Mason emphasizes the distinction between vocational training and a liberal (arts) education, going on to argue that the more educators focus on human formation, “the better will he fulfill his own life and serve society” (3).

While Charlotte Mason completed the volume above in 1922, she had been developing her educational philosophy for decades. In 1904, she published School Education in which she offers a curricular program for children up to age 12. In this volume, she makes the connection we have already encountered between education and wisdom, writing “…for wisdom is the science of relations, and the thing we have to do for a young human being is to put him in touch, so far as we can, with all the relations proper to him” (School Education, 75). 

Here is a helpful clue to Mason’s view of knowledge and its purpose. It is primarily a relational endeavor in which children make contact physically, affectively, and intellectually with the world around them. She writes,

When we consider that the setting up of relations, moral and intellectual, is our chief concern in life, and that the function of education is to put the child in the way of relations proper to him, and to offer the inspiring idea which commonly initiates a relation, we perceive that a little incident like the above may be of more importance than the passing of an examination.

School Education, 78

To help understand Mason’s point about relations, imagine two children. One has been educated in the way she describes. He has encountered a rich array of knowledge since a young child. He knows about birds and plants, geography and history. He navigates life with a sense of vivaciousness, intrigue, and curiosity. The world is bright, colorful, and of utter fascination to him. Each day is a fresh opportunity to learn, explore, and make new connections.

Now compare this child with one whose education or upbringing has been stultified. The birds around him are unknown to him, both intellectually and relationally. He was never trained to take notice of the plants outside his house or to observe how they bud each spring. He has not been read the great stories found history and literature. As a result, the child’s ignorance breeds only more ignorance, and, ultimately, disinterest about the world around him.

The contrast between these caricatures is startling. What is the difference? Knowledge. Knowledge fuels the mind and animates the soul. Its purpose is to inspire a student to live a flourishing life. Knowledge and knowledge alone is the intrinsic motivation that will inject a person with meaning and purpose, according to Charlotte Mason. She writes, “The matter is important, because, of all the joyous motives of school life, the love of knowledge is the only abiding one; the only which determines the scale so to speak, upon which the person will hereafter live” (245-246).

Doug Lemov: Knowledge for Future Opportunity 

Lastly, we look at Doug Lemov, an educational leader in the public charter school movement. His experience has been primarily focused on inner-city schools that are under-resourced and statistically less successful in terms of graduation rates and college readiness than their suburban peers.

In his introduction to Teach Like a Champion 3.0, Doug Lemov writes,

…there are teachers who everyday without much fanfare take the students who others say “can’t”–can’t read great literature, can’t do algebra or calculus, can’t and don’t want to learn—and help, inspire, motivate, and even cajole them to become scholars who do.

Teach Like a Champion 3.0, xxxvi

Here we see a small window into Lemov’s drive for knowledge. It is oriented towards helping students overcome social and individual obstacles getting in the way of their learning in order to help them become scholars with future opportunities. His book is full of techniques to enable students to do the work of learning and, thereby, become independent knowledge seekers.

In the third edition of Teach Like a Champion, Chapter 1 provides five principles, or mental models, through which the subsequent teaching techniques can be contextualized. Each of these principles, often backed by research in learning science, are geared toward helping students become independent learners and preparing them to be successful throughout school, in college, and beyond.

For example, the first principle focuses on the distinction between building long-term memory and managing working memory. He writes,

A well-developed long-term memory is the solution to the limitations of working memory. If a skill, a concept, a piece of knowledge, or a body of knowledge is encoded in long-term memory, your brain can use it without degrading other functions that also rely on working memory.

Teach Like a Champion 3.0, p. 8

Lemov’s point here is not to pooh-pooh working memory, but to help readers understand that both are essential to the learning process. By keeping working memory free, teachers equip students to more fully connect to the world around them and integrate the knowledge they are learning.

I have mentioned one principle on which Lemov’s techniques hang for increasing student knowledge. The others are equally valuable and worth exploring at a later time. For now, I simply list them for the reader’s benefit:

1. Understanding human cognitive structure means building long-term memory and managing working memory.
2. Habits accelerate learning.
3. What students attend to is what they will learn about.
4. Motivation is social.
5. Teaching well is relationship building. 

Conclusion

Each of these figures offers an important aspect of the purpose of knowledge. Knowledge enables us to know God, our greatest happiness. Knowledge propels us to thrive in the world God created. And knowledge enables us to more fully connect with the world around us, becoming more engaged scholars for whatever opportunities God puts before us.

Each of these purposes can serve as drivers to learn in their own right. To conclude, I want the emphasize a common thread I observed in all three views: the importance of fully-integrated, inter-relational knowledge development. Whether it is the classical tradition’s emphasis on holistic wisdom, Charlotte Mason’s idea of the science of relations, or Doug Lemov’s emphasis on the power of long-term memory, it is clear that a unified knowledge base is key.

At a recent staff meeting, our colleague read aloud from Ephesians 4, “…one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all.” At the risk of sounding heretical, perhaps in our schools, we can add one more to the liturgy: one knowledge, granted from above, worth of our pursuit, and the source of our true in happiness when it is ends in Christ.

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The sole true end of education is to teach men how to learn for themselves; and whatever instruction fails to do this is effort spent in vain.

As educators, we get excited when classrooms come alive: Hands shoot up. Eyes brighten. And body language across the room broadcasts that discovery is underway. 

The other day I stepped in to sub for our science teacher and experienced a fresh taste of these kinds of moments. The class had been studying insects all semester and the topic of the day was beetles. Now, my background is in the humanities, not science, and my teaching experience is not in science instruction. As I studied the lesson plan and scanned the text, the wheels in my mind began to turn. On the one hand, I felt inadequate. What did I know about beetles and the broader field of entomology? How could I step in with minimal prep and pull off an excellent lesson? But on the other hand, all was well. Despite my lack of expertise, I knew what I needed to do: lean on the teaching techniques I had accumulated over the years.

Teaching is a craft. It requires a set of complex skills that, when carefully honed over time, come together with mastery to create something new. These skills in turn can be broken down into techniques. 

For example, cultivating a strong classroom culture is a skill. It takes thought, sustained effort, and experience to lead a group of students to interact, collaborate, study, and speak a certain way. It takes practice to learn the secret to holding students to high expectations while letting them never doubt for a second that you support and care for their well-being. If you were to ask a master teacher how she does it, she may not be able to tell you at first. She may even attribute the culture to great students or just getting lucky. But if you press her on specifics, or better, take the time to observe, you will learn that the specific things she does and says to make the culture come alive. In other words, techniques.

Another example: supporting each student to reach his or her full potential as a learner. We probably all have memories growing up of certain teachers who were “easier” than others. Perhaps they would not grade very rigorously or they would let you just get away with napping in the back. In these classrooms, only a small percentage of students actually cared, and an even small percentage applied themselves fully. Most students were not called up to reach their full potential. Sadly, this sort of classroom is probably more often the norm than the exception. But it does not have to be that way. Again, when teachers are equipped with the right techniques, they can pretty quickly make small adjustments and transform students from passive spectators to engaged learners.

Going back to my science class on beetles, I committed right away to using two techniques. First, I committed to a technique from Teach Like a Champion 2.0 called Cold-Call. Instead of calling only on students who raised their hands, I called on students at random. No student could hide. No student could take a pass. All students were invited into the learning experience.

Second, I committed to asking questions more often than providing answers. To some extent, of course, I did not have much of a choice. Having studied entomology all semester, these students knew much more about insects than I did. If I entered the classroom with the intent to wax eloquent, I would not last long. However, even if I did happen to be an amateur beetle expert, I would not have shown it. My strategy to facilitate strong engagement would be to spark student conversation around the topic. To do this, I would resist sharing what I knew and instead ask good questions. For example: “How do you know?” “How does this relate to other insects you have studied?” “Help my understand why…” Through this question-asking exercise, the class quickly ignited into a firework show of ideas, thoughts, and new thought-provoking questions.

Expand Your Tool Belt

If you are a teacher in need of some fresh techniques for your tool belt, I invite you to register for my live webinar on the topic in a couple weeks. I plan to walk through five top techniques that you can implement in your classrooms or homeschools immediately. These techniques will enhance your teaching ability and will do so in a distinctively classical way: getting to great ideas, pondering time-tested values, and honing skills in the liberal arts.

While the end of the year is winding down, now is a great time to receive some fresh inspiration to make it this last stretch of the year. Our students are worth it!

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In addition, my five fold division of the arts is careful to situate various forms of artistry in time and place, their historical traditions, so that we can avoid modernism’s totalizing fallacy. 

Techne — Artistry or craftsmanship

1. Athletics, games and sports
2. Common and domestic arts
3. Professions and trades
4. Fine and performing arts
5. The liberal arts of language and number

The important takeaway here is the need to train students in embodied and culturally situated skills, rather than reducing the liberal arts, for instance, to general studies. Students should be able to produce something in the world because of their training in artistry, not just know random facts.

This led me to propose a pedagogy or training method for artistry, drawing primarily from John Amos Comenius, the famous Reformation educator. We distilled from Comenius a set of basic steps that all arts have in common:

1. Students are given a general acquaintance with the works produced, the end-products of the art.
2. Students respond with a natural desire to imitate through producing works of their own.
3. The master provides the students with the proper tools and models their use, showing them examples of the techniques.
4. The master corrects the students through both examples and advice, sharing the theories and precepts while correcting students.

These steps follow the classical principle of mimesis or imitation that the CiRCE Institute has popularized among classical educators. In many cases, however, the focus among CiRCE folk sometimes edges toward knowledge to be learned or understood rather than a complex skill to be mastered. Aristotle’s terminology helps us to make a crisper distinction between these two teaching tasks. Knowing a truth is different from know-how. Artistry, for Aristotle, is clearly know-how, while nous, or intuition, would correspond with the understanding of ideas or first principles. 

To be sure, the student must understand several things in order to develop in artistry: the purpose of the art he is learning, how to use the tools, how to avoid common mistakes, etc. So a student of an art does develop a certain intuition about quality artistry through an art, but that is not the primary goal. His understanding serves his practice and not the other way around. (Were the budding artist to shift gears and become a critic of the art, as retired football players sometimes become sportscasters or former politicians become political commentators, then the artist’s developed intuition would come to the fore as the intellectual virtue on which he would depend for his new rhetorical product.)

Developing a Lesson in Craft

The basic process outlined above can serve as the springboard for a more fully articulated lesson in artistry. In other contexts, I have advocated for a Narration-Trivium lesson structure aimed at training students in the Trivium arts, while teaching them the sciences, what we might call general content knowledge in various areas. In laying out an alternative lesson structure for training a student in the arts, I am not abandoning this earlier approach, but adding a very necessary complement to it. Let me explain.

One way of viewing the nature of good teaching is to isolate the main goal that such an act of teaching has, as in its own way Bloom’s Taxonomy is careful to do. John Milton Gregory’s The Seven Laws of Teaching highlights the act of teaching as one of conveying knowledge or some truth. This sees teaching as primarily focused on content that a student absorbs into herself and makes her own. On the other hand, Gregory is careful to note in his introduction that there is another branch of the educational art, which he calls training and describes as “the systematic development and cultivation of the powers of mind and body” (10). Gregory even goes so far as to say, 

These two great branches of educational art–training and teaching–though separable in thought, are not separable in practice. We can only train by teaching, and we teach best when we train best. Training implies the exercise of the powers to be trained; but the proper exercise of the intellectual powers is found in the acquisition, the elaboration, and the application of knowledge. (11)

Gregory’s insight here is profound, but it does not quite make up for the fact that he has neglected the art of training by centering his whole work on the act of teaching.

In my view, the problem with Gregory’s attempt to merge training and teaching is one and the same with the totalizing impulse of modernism (in which Gregory participated). At some times, we are focused on training students in a skill, while at others we are endeavoring to teach them content knowledge. To operate as teachers with only one type of lesson, despite the differences between the intellectual virtues we are aiming to cultivate, is to court disaster at worst, and to confuse the issue at best. 

Thoughtful teachers do, in fact, operate very differently when they are training vs teaching. Aristotle’s distinctions between the intellectual virtues of artistry and scientific knowledge, intuition or prudence would have kept us more in line with common sense, if we had retained them. In Gregory’s favor I do think that we can maximize our content-based lessons, by also affording our students with practice in the trivium arts (see Narration-Trivium Lesson). In the same way, I believe that the Apprenticeship Lesson that I am proposing now can and should help students gain general knowledge. But I believe it is more helpful to teachers to set a primary goal for a lesson, and then allow subsidiary goals to fall in line to support. The Apprenticeship Lesson recognizes the development of artistry or skill as the primary goal, thus avoiding the knowledge-transfer default of much modern education.

The Apprenticeship Movement (I-We-You)

In his book Teach Like a Champion 2.0 Doug Lemov coined the phrase I-We-You to convey the movement in a practice-based lesson from modeling a new skill or process, to involving students together in the process, before releasing students to work on their own. In his most recent update (3.0) he uses the terms Direct Instruction/Knowledge Assimilation, Guided Practice/Guided Questioning, and Independent Practice (241-245). We can see the dichotomy even here between a focus on content and skills. ‘Practice’ seems to accord better with training in skills, while ‘instruction,’ ‘knowledge’ and ‘questioning’ gesture toward teaching content.

(Wondering how Doug Lemov’s Teach Like a Champion can be appropriated by classical Christian educators? Check out Kolby Atchison’s free eBook, “The Craft of Teaching for Classical Educators.”)

In any case, the movement from modeling with examples (I), to holding the hands of students as they work (We), to releasing them to accountable independent practice (You) provides a handy application of Comenius’ steps. Its flexibility for artistic skills as different as proper form when shooting a basket or solving an algebraic equation make it a promising foundation for our Apprenticeship Lesson format. 

Do Now is another valuable teaching technique for an Apprenticeship Lesson that is described by Doug Lemov in Teach Like a Champion (see 3.0 p. 187ff.). The reason for this is the importance of immediately engaging students in productive activity when we are training them in an art. A key danger for trainers is to hinder a student’s progress by over-explanation of rules and precepts, when action should be the name of the game. As Comenius says in his Analytical Didactic, 

Doing cannot be learned except by doing. Hence the saying, ‘We create by creating.’ One becomes a writer by writing, a painter by painting, a singer by singing, a speaker by speaking; and so it is with all external acts. (155)

Therefore he goes on to express it as a principle that “in every art there should be more practice than theory” (157). 

Lemov describes the cultural rationale that supports starting a lesson with a “quality task” that students can practice independently:

We want students to engage in productive and high-quality work that interests and challenges them right away, and over time we want to make a habit of this, so they expect to be actively and meaningfully engaged any time they enter our classrooms. We want them to know we are prepared and value their learning. They will not be passive; there will be very little downtime. (187)

We can imagine starting an Apprenticeship Lesson in a sport with a consistent drill that rehearses a set of core or fundamental skills; in a musical instrument, with scales or warm up exercises; in liberal art, with practice problems, exercises or a short writing task. The Do Now step of an Apprenticeship Lesson may not be strictly required, based on classical principles, but it remains a valuable default to be departed from only with good reason. 

Lastly, Lemov also articulates the value of checking for understanding (see ch. 3 of 3.0, pp. 75ff.; see also Kolby’s article on the topic). I have placed this as a step following guided practice (We) in the Apprenticeship Lesson, because of the danger of setting students’ free to independent practice too soon. Classical educators have long recognized the need to hasten slowly (festina lente) by ensuring the foundation is well laid, before building upon it. Comenius reflects on this fact for a pedagogy of artistry in The Great Didactic through the classical example of Timotheus the musician:

For this reason Timotheus the musician used to demand twice as large a fee from those pupils who had learned the rudiments of their art elsewhere, saying that his labour was twofold, as he had first to get them out of the bad habits that they had acquired, and then to teach them correctly. Those, therefore, who are learning any art should take care to make themselves masters of the rudiments by imitating their copies accurately. This difficulty once overcome, the rest follows of itself, just as a city lies at the mercy of foes when its gates are broken in. All haste should be avoided, lest we proceed to advanced work before the elementary stages have been mastered. He goes fast enough who never quits the road, and a delay which is caused by obtaining a thorough grip of first principles is really no delay, but an advance toward mastering what follows with ease, speed, and accuracy. (200)

Therefore it is prudent for the trainer of an art to check for students’ understanding before letting them practice independently, and then during independent practice, to circulate and actively correct students’ errors, as Comenius also states in his 9th canon, “Errors must be corrected by the master on the spot; but precepts, that is to say the rules, and the exceptions to the rules, must be given at the same time.” (200)

The Inspirational Coach

The various pieces of the puzzle for an Apprenticeship Lesson are almost interlocked. One final contribution comes from Daniel Coyle’s The Talent Code, which we have drawn from before to discuss the role of myelin (the white fatty substance that wraps around neural networks to increase speed and accuracy of firing) in the development of complex skill. Drawing from the research of Anders Ericsson, who coined the terms deliberate and purposeful practice, Coyle has painted a stunning picture of the “coaches” behind the training of world class athletes and performers. 

Aside from the core skill-set of providing the targeted feedback day in and day out, “like farmers: careful, deliberate cultivators of myelin” (Coyle, The Talent Code, 165), these Talent Whisperers, as Coyle calls them, are actually coaching their students to love the art. As he explains, 

They succeed because they are tapping into the second element of the talent code: ignition. They are creating and sustaining motivation; they are teaching love. As Bloom’s study [of world class performers’ first teachers] summed up, ‘The effect of this first phase of learning seemed to be to get the learner involved, captivated, hooked, and to get the learner to need and want more information and expertise.’ (175)

There must be a place for joy and inspiration, meaningfully conveyed from the coach to the artist-in-training. That is why I have placed an Inspirational Idea as a step in the Apprenticeship Lesson, even if this feature might not always be very long or strictly necessary. Speaking warmly about the beauty of the end product or the value of discipline, even for only 30 seconds, can help the average teacher pause long enough to consider the cultivation of her students’ motivation and love for the art, as opposed to just getting down to work and possibly losing them in drudgery.

The Apprenticeship Lesson

At this point I would invite you to visit a new webpage on Educational Renaissance that offers the Apprenticeship Lesson as a free downloadable resource. By sharing your email, you’ll receive our weekly blog in your inbox. If you haven’t already, I’d also encourage you to access my free resource on “Charlotte Mason and the Trivium” that details how to plan lessons with the Narration-Trivium Lesson structure. 

These two types of lessons complement one another by focusing either on training in artistry or skill (Apprenticeship) or on teaching new content knowledge (Narration-Trivium). In other words, the primary aim of the teacher is either for the student to acquire particular content knowledge in an inspirational subject area (Bible, history, literature, etc.), or the primary aim is for the student to acquire and hone particular skills in a discipline (writing, grammar, art, music, etc.). Actual lessons fall on a spectrum, with some focus placed on new knowledge and some focus placed on the students’ performance of a complex activity or creation of some product. The question of which lesson structure to use depends not on the subject, but the focus of this particular lesson within a broader unit plan. Is the main purpose of this lesson for students to assimilate content or develop and hone new skills?

When you download the Apprenticeship Lesson, you’ll be able to copy and paste a template with instructions that you can then use for planning lessons that train students in an art. Between the Apprenticeship Lesson and the Narration-Trivium Lesson, you should have all that you need to plan lessons that embody a classical pedagogy in any subject, with only minor modifications. I believe the process of lesson planning should be inspiring and enriching because of how it assists teachers in embodying classical principles in their teaching. In addition to preparing the teacher with the knowledge and materials necessary to help students learn most effectively, lesson planning should contribute to teachers’ long-term development.

Please reach out to me with questions as you try out the Apprenticeship Lesson, so that I can continue to refine and improve it for teachers!

Earlier Articles in this series:

1. Bloom’s Taxonomy and the Purpose of Education

2. Bloom’s Taxonomy and the Importance of Objectives: 3 Blessings of Bloom’s

3. Breaking Down the Bad of Bloom’s: The False Objectivity of Education as a Modern Social Science

4. When Bloom’s Gets Ugly: Cutting the Heart Out of Education

5. What Bloom’s Left Out: A Comparison with Aristotle’s Intellectual Virtues

6. Aristotle’s Virtue Theory and a Christian Purpose of Education

7. Moral Virtue and the Intellectual Virtue of Artistry or Craftsmanship

8. Practicing in the Dark or the Day: Well-worn Paths or Bushwalking, Artistry and Moral Virtue Continued

9. Apprenticeship in the Arts, Part 1: Traditions and Divisions

10. Apprenticeship in the Arts, Part 2: A Pedagogy of Craft

Later articles in this series:

12. Apprenticeship in the Arts, Part 4: Artistry, the Academy and the Working World

13. Apprenticeship in the Arts, Part 5: Structuring the Academy for Christian Artistry

14. Apprenticeship in the Arts, Part 6: The Transcendence and Limitations of Artistry

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As a result, for many young people today, it remains an open question whether character actually counts, and if so, to what degree. Today’s sports stars don’t exactly illustrate this truth during their excessive victory celebrations. Nor do the upper echelon of celebrities and business moguls as they seek to outdo each other in the clothes they wear and cars they drive.

In The Road to Character, New York Times columnist David Brooks observes that part of the problem is that our culture has come to value “resume virtues” over “eulogy virtues.” Resume virtues are the skills you list on your resume, the ones that contribute to external success, especially your career profile. Eulogy virtues, on the other hand, are the deeper qualities of character that are remembered at funerals–humility, kindness, faithfulness, and the like. We live in a culture, and by extension, within an educational system, that nurtures career-oriented, ambitious, self-promoters and all but ignores meek, others-oriented, self-sacrificing servants. 

As I wrap up my blog series on “Teach Like a Champion for the Classical Classroom,” I want to suggest that character and achievement, or resume and eulogy virtues, needn’t be at odds. Character and excellence can actually go hand in hand. After exploring David Brooks’ ideas about character formation, then examining Paul’s discourse on love, I will look specifically at the fourth and final part of Teach Like a Champion 2.0, which deals with classroom culture. In these chapters, author Doug Lemov lays out several principles for cultivating a positive classroom culture that sustains and drives excellence. What I hope to show is that the sort of high-achieving classroom culture Lemov envisions is best realized when a heart for service and humility is the true driving force. 

Of Mountains and Timber

First, back to Brooks. You may be familiar with the conservative writer and his spiritual journey over the years. In his own words, Brooks has gone through quite the personal transformation. Early on in his career, Brooks fit the prototype of the young and ambitious careerist, focused on making a name for himself. Although raised Jewish, he wasn’t particularly religious or interested in cultivating a strong “inner self,” either spiritually or morally.

But then something changed. The threads of his life began to unravel. The early success he encountered began to lose its shine. He went through a divorce. He experienced loneliness to a degree he had up to this point not encountered. He began to ask himself deeper questions…about faith, morality, and purpose. These reflections led him to reconsider the organizing principle of his life and what makes for real and lasting joy.

These experiences ultimately led to a paradigm shift for Brooks. In his most recent book, The Second Mountain, Brook casts a vision for life as the journey between two mountains. The first mountain is obsessed with personal accomplishments and tackling ambitious goals for self-promoting purposes. All activity on this peak is geared toward cultivating the resume virtues described above. The second mountain, in sharp contrast, focuses on relationships and service to others through the honing of deeper character qualities, that is, the eulogy virtues. His argument is that the good life–the life of joy and flourishing–is found in the journey from the first to the second mountain. The road of this journey takes a person through the valley of humility and brokenness before beginning the ascent.

A journey that calls pilgrims to descend before ascending may feel foreign to our culture today because the virtue of humility is part of a former moral ecology, what Brooks calls the “crooked timber” tradition. This tradition demands humility, not incredulity, in the face of our human limitations. It calls us to “…confront our own weaknesses, tackle our own sins” and confront ourselves to the core (xiv). The result, as men and women pass through this valley, is a life of character, which is well-integrated, and marked by contentment and joy.

A Cultural Shift

Brooks believes that today’s society has replaced the crooked timber tradition with the culture of the Big Me. Young people are raised to view themselves as the center of the universe and destined for fame (7). The self-esteem movement, embodied in the mantra “Be true to yourself,” has created a generation primed for self-centeredness, narcissism, and self-aggrandizement. This moral framework provides few tools for people when they experience rejection, brokenness, and pain. In the culture of the Big Me, the only response to suffering is disbelief, outrage, and eventual despair. 

The culture of the Big Me leaves little room for growth in character because under this scheme, one’s “timber” is perfectly straight. The problem is not the individual, but the world around him. When circumstances take a turn for the worse, which they inevitably will at times, the boy blames the people and power structures that exist, not the human flaws that dwell within.

A More Excellent Way 

Brook’s conclusion is that at the end of the day the good life is the one marked by humility, not pride, and self-effacement, not self-promotion. This is the way of the crooked timber tradition.

Assuming we generally agree with this idea, as educators, we must ask: How can we train students to view the world in this way, while also encouraging them to strive for excellence? Christ himself said it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye a needle than it is for a rich man to inherit the kingdom of heaven. Perhaps something similar can be said of the quest for achievement. Can one seek achievement along the road to character, especially humility?

In his first letter to the Corinthians, I believe the apostle Paul offers some key insights for our question. During his treatment of spiritual gifts, Paul underscores the fact that the gifts of the Spirit ought to unite believers, not divide them. Just as organs within the human body work together in unity for the good of the body, so Christians ought to use their gifts for the good of the church…no matter what the gift is.

And yet, Paul writes, “But earnestly desire the higher gifts…And I will show you a more excellent way” (1 Cor. 12:31 ESV, italics mine). This way, Paul will go on to explain, is love.

We see in this passage that in Paul’s mind, the pursuit of the higher gifts is not in conflict with love, but indeed, love is their ultimate fulfillment.. When building others up is the aim, spiritual gifts reach their highest end. Conversely, when love is absent from achievement, excellence is futile. Paul writes:

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

1 Corinthians 13:1-7 ESV

While in this passage Paul is addressing spiritual gifts particularly, I propose we can expand this idea to gifts, accomplishments, and achievements, in general. Love, along with the other virtues, does not prohibit the quest for achievement, but instead, sanctifies it. Through the way of love, men and women can use their gifts in service to others. In a school that takes this vision seriously, students will be trained to give, not take, and serve, not receive.

Now that we have a broad vision for how character and achievement can work together, we need to think about how to apply these ideas in the classroom. We must acknowledge that teachers are on the front lines of character formation: each day they provide students opportunities for both personal accomplishment and humble service. In this way, schools can be the incubators for future culture makers of character if they support teachers to cultivate the right classroom culture. Let’s now turn to Doug Lemov’s Teach Like a Champion 2.0 to consider the core ingredients of this goal. (Note: I won’t have space to make explicit connections between character development as we have been thinking of it and these principles, but I hope to provide some general categories for practitioners to consider on their own.)

Lemov’s Five Principles of Classroom Culture

In the fourth and final part of Teach Like a Champion 2.0, author Doug Lemov lays out five principles of classroom culture: discipline, management, control, influence, and engagement. Admittedly, I’m not the biggest fan of the terms themselves. Most of them contain the conceptual residue of modern education presuppositions. Nevertheless, I was overall impressed with Lemov’s treatment of the five principles and believe that they can serve as effective handholds, when properly defined, for creating a culture geared toward excellence with a foundation of character. Let me walk through them one at a time.

Principle 1: Discipline

The first principle is discipline. Lemov defines discipline as “teaching students the right and successful way to do things” (344). Too often teachers assume that their students understand the nuts and bolts of what it means to be a scholar and, as a result, give abstract commands: “Pay attention” “Give this assignment your full effort” “Read this next paragraph carefully.”

But as Lemov points out, what teachers need to do first is breakdown these commands into individual elements. Instead of “Pay Attention,” say “Sit up straight, eyes on me, and four feet on the floor.” When teachers give concrete instructions and then provide accountability for obedience, students are able to most effectively grow in the discipline of, in this case, attention.

Overtime, the disciplines the teacher focuses on will become habits. Patrick has written at length in his free eBook about the importance of habit training and how the human brain is wired to put certain tasks on auto-pilot. As teachers, we can leverage this useful function of the brain for the student’s benefit. We can teach students how to be students and watch them grow in the habits of a scholar, including exhibiting strong character, over time.

Principle 2: Management

Lemov’s second principle for classroom culture is management. In modern educational circles, classroom management systems are par for the course. Teachers are baptized in the behaviorist psychology of Skinner and Pavlov and expected to leverage these insights about human behavior to meet their management objectives. Lemov defines classroom management as “the process of reinforcing behavior through the use of consequences and rewards” (343).

Management systems are attractive, minimally, because they tend to yield visible short-term results. For example, if a student has trouble controlling his urge to run in the hallway and the teacher rolls out a consequence of five minutes off of recess for each illicit dash, this action will likely curb his behavior pretty quickly.

The problem, which Charlotte Mason practitioners, among others, are apt to point out, is that this approach fails to take seriously the heart and will of a child. It aims for behavioral conformity, not personal growth. Lemov himself admits that these sort of management systems work in the short-term, but pay decreasing benefits over time. The more you use a consequence or reward, the less effective it becomes. Management systems, without the other principles, devolve quickly. Students become desensitized to the rewards and consequences, and teachers are forced to dial up the dosages to get the desired effect.

As we think about cultivating classroom culture from a classical perspective, we would do well to leave these management systems out of our approach. A preferred course of action would be to focus our attention on training students in disciplines (principle 1) and habits that will serve them better for the long-term.

Principle 3: Control

Let’s move to the third principle: control. It’s not the most culturally palatable term today, but you’ll soon see what Lemov is getting at. He defines control as “The capacity to cause someone to choose to do what you ask, regardless of consequences” (344). Notice that control operates independently of applying consequences within a management system. The teacher instructs. The students obey. The matter is settled.

Notice also that control here doesn’t negate agency. According to Lemov’s definition, teachers preserve the student’s responsibility to choose to obey. This points to an undergirding truth about control and obedience: it leads to freedom. As students demonstrate over time their strength of will to obey when given instructions, teachers can grant more freedom. Rules move from external fiat to internal mastery.

How can teachers exercise control over their students in a way that moves them to self-mastery? The key is relationship. Lemov writes, “Teachers who have strong control succeed because they understand the power of language and relationships: they ask firmly and confidently, but also with civility, and often kindly” (345). In other words, teachers even as they exercise an appropriate form of control, do so while respecting the personhood of their students. Their students would never doubt that the teacher has their best interest in mind.

Principle 4: Influence

This leads to the fourth principle: influence. Influence is the linchpin for a strong classroom culture. A teacher can provide students with great support in discipline, implement an effective management system, and exhibit high control, and yet be failing in a key way: moving students from “behave” to believe.” A teacher cannot sustain the culture she wants for her classroom on her own. At some point, her students need to buy into the vision themselves. They must believe and trust that the classroom culture was designed for their own benefit and growth.

You are probably beginning to see how each of these principles, with the exception of the management system, work together. As the teacher demonstrates herself to be a person of character, illustrated by her love, care, and expectations for her students, students will voluntarily follow. In some ways, this is Leadership 101. People follow a leader who looks out for them. As teachers cultivate a culture of joy, belonging, and growth, students will believe in the vision the teacher has painted and respond accordingly. And as we think about developing students to be people of character, the vision we articulate is especially important.

Principle 5: Engagement

The final principle for cultivating a strong classroom culture is engagement, specifically intellectually engagement. As I have discussed in previous articles, our students are not mere clay to be formed or tablets to be written on. Students are persons, made in the image of God, created with capacities to engage dynamically with the world God created. Students are hard-wired to explore, grow, think, work, and create.

In the classroom, therefore, it is crucial for students to be engaged intellectually. They need to be exposed to rich content and then expected to chew on this content themselves, for example, through narration. As Lemov puts it, “Students minds are ready to be intellectually engaged. They need to be stimulated. Something to challenge and fascinate them. Great teachers get students busily engaged in important, interesting, and challenging work” (346). 

Conclusion

Through creating the right classroom culture, teachers can lead their students to become the young men and women of character our society needs more than ever. Moreover, through implementing the right principles of classroom culture, teachers don’t have to choose between character and achievement, but instead can see first-hand how character is the driving force behind it all. When teacher and students form an alliance over the idea to strive for excellence in the way of love for the good of others, the result is a dynamic community of servant-learners.

David Brooks describes these people well:

“They radiate a sort of moral joy. They answer softly when challenged hardly. They are silent when unfairly abused. They are dignified when others try to humiliate them, restrained when others try to provoke the. But they get things done.They perform acts of sacrificial service with the same modest everyday spirit they would display if they were just getting the groceries. They are not thinking about what impressive work they are doing. They are not thinking about themselves at all. They just seem delighted by the flawed people around them. They just recognize what needs doing and they do it” (ivi). 

Well said, Mr. Brooks. May this be spoken of both our students and ourselves.

Other articles in this series:

Building Ratio: Training Students to Think and Learn for Themselves

Work, Toil, and the Quest for Academic Rigor

“Teach Like a Champion” for the Classical Classroom, Part 3: Check for Understanding

“Teach Like a Champion” for the Classical Classroom, Part 2: Teacher-Driven Professional Development

“Teach Like a Champion” for the Classical Classroom, Part 1: An Introduction

The post Educating for Humility: Promoting a Classroom Culture of Excellence in Service to Others appeared first on .

The irony, of course, is that when competitors lay claim to the exact same distinguishing factor, the supposed distinctive ceases to function as such. In the case of many schools today, the idea of academic rigor has devolved into a banal slogan production center, generating a growing pile of hackneyed expressions and predictable cliches. 

Now let me be clear: I have no qualm with academic rigor in and of itself. Central to a true educational renaissance exists an element of academic rigor properly conceived and implemented. But we must think carefully about what ends we hope to achieve when introducing rigor into our classrooms. What good does it bring? How does it impact students? Teachers? Society?

In this series I am exploring insights from Teach Like a Champion 2.0 (TLaC for short) for classical educators. Classical educators, more than anything else, are committed to an educational project that seeks to shape human beings, making them virtuous, or at least, putting them on the path of virtue, through training in the liberal arts. The impetus for this series has therefore become taking TLaC’s myriad of insights gleaned through field research and reworking them for this classical vision of education.

The Benefits and Limitations of Techniques

Author Doug Lemov dedicates Part 2 of TLaC, entitled  “Academic Ethos,” to helping teachers reach the maximum level of academic rigor in their classrooms. The techniques he shares in this portion of the book are focused on extracting as much brain power out of each student as possible.

For example, Technique #13, “Stretch It,” advises rewarding right answers with harder questions. These questions can take the form of directives (“What evidence tells you that?”) as well as nondirective prompts (“Say more”). Or consider Technique #25, “At Bats.” The advice here is to give your students lots and lots of practice mastering knowledge or skills. Rather than settling for two or three repetitions of practice, teachers should provide generous amounts of time for independent, mixed, and differentiated practice.

Both of these techniques capitalize on pushing students towards mastery through deliberate practice and opportunities to exercise their intellectual muscles. This is a worthy aim, to be sure, using well-documented techniques confirmed by modern research.

But why? What is the purpose of it all? The reader is never quite sure. If the subtitle of the book is any indicator, the goal is to gain acceptance into the college of one’s choice. But then what? Obtain the career or salary of one’s choice. To what end? The maximization of earthly pleasure. And then what?

The techniques offered in this field manual give teachers a reliable “how,” but not a compelling “why.” This, in turn, renders even the initially high-regarded “how” suspect.

Dealing with Persons

A robust case for an academically rigorous education must be considered in light of whom it is for. The answer, of course, is people. Education is for people and therefore must be tailored for them to promote their flourishing as creatures of mind, heart, body, and soul. While TLaC effectively engages the mind of a student, it fails to fully consider the other facets of their personhood. However, even its engagement of the mind can be problematic at times when it focuses too heavily on information recall at the expense of mind-captivating ideas.

As a corrective to this thin and misguided view of students, I direct readers to the writings of Charlotte Mason. In a chapter for When Children Love to Learn, which is a great introduction to the writings of Charlotte Mason, Dr. Jack Beckman of Covenant College writes,

“Within the pages of her [Charlotte Mason’s] six volumes of applied educational philosophy, we may feast abundantly–living books and ideas; the primacy of the home in the life and learning of the child; nature studies; art and musical appreciation; the discipline of habits; the knowledge of God, man and the universe; the centrality of history–all of these and more fill the search teacher’s heart and mind with a perspective, a view of teaching and learning that truly comes together” (57). 

Here Beckman sheds light on what an education for persons should be: Holistic. Life-giving. Unified. It must take seriously the full-orbed humanity of students as creatures of mind, heart, body, and soul. But this sort of complexity is difficult to maintain if there is no unified philosophy to keep it together. Beckman continues,

“The fundamental underpinning is the capital idea that the child is born a person–not an object to be manipulated as the behaviorist believes. Not a rudderless and morally neutral explorer as the cognitive theorist would think. Not an animal at the mercy of drives beyond his or her control as believed by the Freudian theorist. But rather a person made in the image of God, both active and interactive in his or her own life and learning. Fully a person, not a person to ‘become’ “(57-58). 

Academic rigor can be a valuable element in a child’s education if it operates within the bounds of what is appropriate for educating persons. This entails viewing students as free and responsible agents, endowed by their Creator with the desire to know deeply, not merely for rigor’s sake, but for the meaning rigor brings through deeper understanding, or wisdom.

The Value and Vanity of Rigorous Work

There is no question that humans were made to work. We see this calling in and throughout scripture, beginning in Genesis 1 with the creation mandate. Work can be enjoyable, life-giving, and fulfilling. When work presents a challenge that engages our abilities in a way that is rigorous but not overwhelming, there is a sense of great joy and accomplishment when the task is completed.

This past weekend, for example, I replaced the storm door on my house. This project took many hours of labor, and before that, many more hours of research. Given both the aesthetic and protective roles a storm door plays, I really needed to get it right. When I finally completed the project, after hours and hours of hard work and being in the flow, I could not have been happier in that moment. Not only because the work was finished, but because I was proud of the work. It was rigorous and therefore rewarding.

But even rigorous work has its limitations. In the book of Ecclesiastes, the author laments,

“I hated all my toil in which I toiled under the sun, seeing that I must leave it to the man who will come after me, and who knows whether he will be wise or a fool? Yet he will be master of all for which I toiled and used my wisdom under the sun. This also is vanity” (Ecclesiastes 2:18-19 ESV). 

The limitation of our work is that we ourselves are finite creatures, destined to one day breath our last. There is a time when we were not and there will be a time when we will leave our work behind. This stark reality can throw into question the meaning of our work and the rigor it often requires. All that time I put into the storm door–is it really worth it?

The Redemption of Rigor

But the author of Ecclesiastes also provides encouragement:

“I have seen the business that God has given to the children of man to be busy with. He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, he has put eternity into man’s heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end. I perceived therefore that there is nothing better for them than to be joyful and to do good as long as they live; also that everyone should eat and drink and take pleasure in all his toil–this is God’s gift to man” (Ecclesiastes 3:10-13 ESV). 

The truth is that the realization of our own finitude, coupled with the realization of the infinitude of God, unlocks for the worker–the person–the student– a sense of peace and security. The security is that all things are in the hands of God, indeed, He has made everything beautiful in its time. God has given us gifts to enjoy throughout our lives and these gifts can be enjoyed and magnified through the work we invest in them.

A Christian, classical response, then, to Part 2 of Teach Like a Champion 2.0 is not to excise academic rigor from the classroom, but to reframe it. When teachers give their students meaningful and rigorous assignments, their personhood is honored and given opportunity to flourish. Indeed, when work is assigned to students that affirms their capacities for freedom, responsibility, and creativity, the rigor of work is injected with meaning. And ultimately, when Christians view work as their God-given duty to cultivate goodness, truth, and beauty for His kingdom, it is redeemed as a core ingredient for a life of service to Christ our Lord.

Other articles in this series:

“Teach Like a Champion” for the Classical Classroom, Part 3: Check for Understanding

“Teach Like a Champion” for the Classical Classroom, Part 2: Teacher-Driven Professional Development

“Teach Like a Champion” for the Classical Classroom, Part 1: An Introduction

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A few hours later, you’re in your prep period and you can’t wait to see what your students learned through the exit slip exercise. You’re especially excited to read the answer of the boy who kept nodding and smiling throughout the lesson. You read the first slip and it doesn’t quite hit the target. An outlier probably. You read the second slip, written in clear, elegant cursive. Wrong again. Not even close. You decide to read one more…enthusiastic boy’s. Surely his exuberance was indicative of some understanding. But alas, one sentence in, and your heart sinks. The great lesson you engineered turned out to be dud. 

John Wooden, legendary basketball coach of the UCLA Bruins, put it best: the most crucial task of teaching is differentiating between “I taught it” and “they learned it.” A teacher can plan a tailored lesson and wax eloquent with the rhetoric of Cicero, and yet, if his students can’t demonstrate the knowledge for themselves, real understanding hasn’t been achieved.

In order to avoid the futile lesson, the one in which students can’t actually demonstrate evidence of learning, teachers need to check for understanding, not simply at the end, but throughout the lesson. The notion of “understanding” is what I’ll be exploring in today’s article as I contribute to my ongoing series on Teach Like a Champion for the classical classroom. Teach Like a Champion, or TLaC, is a handbook on optimized teaching techniques procured through countless hours of observation of master teachers. Let’s dive in and first consider humanity’s innate drive for understanding in the first place.

The Desire for Understanding

The desire for understanding isn’t anything new. King Solomon asked specifically for this gift when the Lord visited him in his early days as king. God appeared to Solomon in a dream and offered to grant him a desire, presumably, anything he wanted. Reflecting upon his status as the king of Israel and the son of David, Solomon made an intriguing, and perhaps even shocking, request: “Give your servant therefore an understanding mind to govern your people, that I may discern between good and evil, for who is able to govern this your great people?” (1 Kings 3:9). 

An understanding mind. Of all the things he could have asked for of his sovereign creator, Solomon asked for understanding. Although he was new to the throne, Solomon seemed to grasp the significance of his role and the complexity that lay before him. He grew up watching his father David navigate the troubles of kingship in the ancient Near East (although to him, the geo-temporal region in which he lived wouldn’t have struck him as ancient, near, or eastern). He understood that the road before him would be very difficult.

As we know from the story, God not only granted Solomon his desire for understanding; He blessed the young ruler with riches and fame as well. And yet it was Solomon’s wisdom and understanding that truly set him apart among all the kings and queens in the region. As the author of 1 Kings recounts:

“And God gave Solomon wisdom and understanding beyond measure, and breadth of mind like the sand of the seashore, so that Solomon’s wisdom surpassed the wisdom of all the people of the east and all the wisdom of Egypt. For he was wiser than all other men…and his fame was in all the surrounding nations. He also spoke 3,000 proverbs, and his songs were 1,005. He spoke of trees, from the cedar that is in Lebanon to the hyssop that grows out of the wall. He spoke also of beasts, and of birds, and of reptiles, and of fish. And people of all nations came to hear the wisdom of Solomon, and from all the kings of the earth, who had heard of his wisdom.” 

I Kings 4:29-34

While we don’t fully know how Solomon gained his understanding, in terms of pedagogy, what the author does emphasize in this passage is the sheer breadth of it. Solomon wasn’t simply wise on matters of daily living or ruling; he was learned in both the human and natural sciences. This is a rare combination indeed. In our modern world, it would be difficult to find someone proficient in both poetry and ornithology. King Solomon was a renaissance man living in an Iron Age. 

The Association of Ideas

Understanding begins with desire and comes from God, but now we will see that it flourishes through relation. John Locke, the great British philosopher, political theorist, and medical researcher, helps us understand why. He famously wrote An Essay Concerning Human Understanding which laid the groundwork for empiricism, the theory that all knowledge ultimately comes from experience. Locke’s goal in the essay was to explore the limits of human understanding and provide criteria for distinguishing between truth and falsehood. While empiricism itself is a contested theory, his insight that ideas are associated, or interconnected, is profound.

For Locke, ideas are the things that furnish the mind and they initially enter through experience. Until a human begins to sense the world, her mind is a tabula rasa (a blank slate). According to Locke’s theory, all ideas are the result of either sensation (experience) or reflection. For example, until a child experiences the color blue, she has no idea of it. But then the mind begins to reflect on these simple ideas, gained through sensation, in order to generate more ideas. So a child may reflect on the idea of blue and the idea of a spherical object in order to grasp the idea of a blue ball. In this way, ideas are associated, and understanding is the network of these associations.

Knowledge as a Unified Whole

Interestingly, Charlotte Mason hones in on a similar idea to association in her definition of education as “the science of relations.” Here she has in mind the notion that as children experience the world and gain knowledge of it, each facet of knowledge is interconnected. Mason writes, “Our nature craves after unity. The travail of thought, which is going on to-day and has gone on as long as we have any record of men’s thoughts, has been with a view to establishing some principle for the unification of life. Here we have the scheme of a magnificent unity” (School Education, 154). For Mason, education is the result of seeing knowledge as this “magnificent unity.”

In an excellent blog article, author Karen Glass expounds upon Mason’s philosophy, writing:

“Charlotte Mason saw that this vital, unified understanding, which she did not hesitate to call “wisdom,” has the potential to produce great ideas, great works, and great understanding. One critical point, from an educational perspective, is that there is no need to divide our ideas of knowledge into “sacred” and “secular.” When we recognize that the Holy Spirit is the source of all knowledge, and interests himself even in the truths of arithmetic, geometry, and grammar, our focus shifts. Knowledge is not an unpalatable medicine to be forced down by any educational gimmick we can contrive. Knowledge is a gift of God, and the question becomes therefore, what methods can we use which will invite His cooperation in the education of our pupils?”

Here Glass makes clear that all domains of knowledge are unified because they share a common source: the Holy Spirit. As teachers teach for understanding, they need to retain this theological truth. Knowledge is not some commodity that should be bought and sold on the market for the most expedient price; it is a gift from God graciously given for the good of humankind. Just as God gave Solomon knowledge of humanity and nature, so will He give generously to students as we invite His presence into our classrooms and teach in a way that is befitting to His children.

Check for Understanding

With these philosophical and theological considerations of understanding in view, we can now begin to reflect as teachers on how to cultivate and check it. Admittedly, in TLaC, author Doug Lemov isn’t concerned in developing his epistemology, or philosophy of knowledge. For his purposes, a pragmatic approach will do: understanding is simply the desired commodity for college acceptance. But now that we, as classical educators, have explored a deeper understanding of understanding (no pun intended), we can glean from Lemov’s field research in a way that better aligns with our core values.

In the first edition of TLaC, “Check for Understanding” was presented as a single technique, but over time Lemov came to see how comprehensive this task really is for effective teaching. So in the second edition, Lemov provides ten different techniques for teachers to implement in order to check for understanding. These techniques coalesce for Lemov around three broad tasks: data gathering, culture of error, and acting on the data (25). 

Gather and Act on Data

Data-gathering, the first task, needs to occur frequently and efficiently. All too often, teachers proceed through their lesson without regularly checking in to see if students are actually tracking with what is being taught. When teachers finally do check in, say, through an exit slip, it’s often too little, too late. At this point, they aren’t able to course correct.

This leads to the second general task teachers can employ to check for understanding: acting on the data. Writing thorough lesson plans is important, don’t get me wrong, but one of the best parts about teaching is that the lessons themselves have a degree of unpredictability. We are working with humans after all. Teachers therefore need to regularly be checking in with their students to gauge their present understanding and determine if a course correction is necessary. This could manifest itself as re-teaching a particular concept or providing an additional opportunity for a student to practice a skill.

One of the best ways we have found for gathering and acting on data is through the practice of narration. When students are regularly called upon to “tell back” what has been taught or read, the teacher learns in real time what the student knows and doesn’t know. The teacher can then determine how to tailor the follow-up discussion for optimal learning to occur.

Build a Culture of Error

The third task to implement in order to check for understanding is building a culture of error. This sounds unintuitive perhaps, but the reality is that students are going to make mistakes. The question is, how will teachers respond when they do? There are really only two options.

The first is to respond negatively to the incorrect answer as a means to discourage future incorrect answers. But this approach is wrongheaded. If a culture of “right answers only” emerges, then the teacher will never be able to gather reliable data. She will have created a culture in which faux answers are given, not what students are actually thinking, errors and all.

The solution is to cultivate a culture of error, which, as Lemov puts it, is to “…make it safe to be wrong” (25). In fact, he recommends as part of the “Plan for Error” technique to expect errors. This way teachers aren’t caught off guard by an incorrect answer and instead can remain consistently flexible throughout the lesson.

Another practice Lemov recommends is to praise risk-taking (71). This strategy leverages the idea of a growth mindset, one that views intelligence as a developing, rather than fixed, trait. This step is crucial for encouraging students to ask their questions and risk being wrong. Rather than leading students to believe that their intelligence is fixed to their classroom performance, teachers should cultivate a growth mindset in which students believe their intelligence can grow through hard work and perseverance.

Conclusion

Doug Lemov may not be operating from a classical framework, but his techniques related to checking for understanding are right on. His focus is on cultivating the understanding of the student, which I’ve shown is crucial for not only academic success, but flourishing as a human being.

Here are some example statements teachers might make to regularly check for understanding in the classroom:

• “Take out your whiteboards and write in a complete sentence the reason you think the events of last chapter affected the present situation.”
• “I’m really glad that you made that mistake. It’s going to help me to help you.”
• “I love the fact that this is a hard question and that I see so many brave hands in the air. Thank you for taking a risk.”
• “This is a tough question. If you’re struggling with it, that’s a good sign. Now, who will be bold and start us off?”

You can read about all ten of the techniques for checking for understanding in the second edition of Teach Like a Champion. My personal favorites are “Reject Self-Report,” “Show Me,” and “Excavate Error,” but I recommend giving all of them a try.

I’d love to hear what techniques others have found helpful or what questions you might have. Reply in the comment section below!

Other articles in this series:

“Teach Like a Champion” for the Classical Classroom, Part 1: An Introduction

“Teach Like a Champion” for the Classical Classroom, Part 2: Teacher-Driven Professional Development

The post “Teach Like a Champion” for the Classical Classroom, Part 3: Check for Understanding appeared first on .

The notable weakness of the supervisor-driven approach is that it is…supervisor-driven. Growing as a professional entails two crucial components: increasing in one’s knowledge of the particular field and increasing in self-awareness of one’s performance in that field. As long as the principal is setting the goals, observing teachers in their classrooms, and giving feedback, the teacher remains a largely passive rather than active participant in her professional development. 

In this blog series, I am exploring insights from Doug Lemov’s Teach Like a Champion 2.0 for the classical classroom. Lemov is a field expert in the charter school movement and has worked tirelessly over the years to bridge the achievement gap in inner-city schools. While he may not be operating with a classical education framework in mind, at EdRen we have found many of his techniques to be beneficial for the classical classroom all the same. In this blog, I will examine Lemov’s insights on professional development, especially the importance of a teacher and data-driven approach that allows teachers to own their own development.

The Desire to Grow

In Part 1: An Introduction of this blog series, I began by clarifying some key concepts. I explained that classical education is intent on making better humans; it is, therefore, a humanizing education, one that views students as persons and not merely economic producers. Humans have minds, hearts, souls, and bodies, and each of these components need educating. As important as job training is, it does not sufficiently prepare someone to live a deep and meaningful life. Students need significant servings of truth, goodness, and beauty to feed their hungry minds, nourish their souls, and guide their decision-making. Kevin Clark, a thought leader in the movement, goes so far as to say that he views his chief job as “to lead souls with words.”

If classical schools are going to strive for such a laudable aim, then professional development is crucial. The heartbeat of any school is its faculty and, in particular, the ability of the faculty to teach. By “teach,” of course, I don’t mean merely the dissemination of information. I mean the conscious act of leading students to pursue wisdom through cultivating virtue and engaging in disciplined mental and physical training. This is no easy task; it requires a unique combination of tact, resolve, confidence, empathy, and, perhaps most importantly, a desire to grow personally. 

You see, a teacher won’t get very far in leading his students to pursue wisdom if he himself hasn’t set off on the journey. Like Frodo Baggins in The Fellowship of the Ring, students need a mentor to imitate. Someone older and wiser. For Frodo, of course, it was his Uncle Bilbo. When Frodo was twelve-years old, he went to live in Bag End with his uncle, following an unexpected family tragedy. During those formative years, Bilbo taught Frodo the Elvish language and much of the lore of the Middle-Earth. But most importantly, Bilbo and Frodo lived together, giving Frodo the rare opportunity, especially for a hobbit, of doing life with someone who had been on an adventure. When the time came for Frodo to set out on an adventure of his own, Frodo already had an image in his mind of the way forward. Although neither Bilbo nor Frodo realized it at the time, their many years together forged the very path on which Frodo would one day tread. 

Like Frodo, students need to experience life with older and wiser men and women who are on the pathway of virtue. These mentors, called teachers in school parlance, embody the growth mindset and desire to grow personally even as they help their pupils grow.

Field Experts and Master Craftsmen

But in order for teachers to embody this growth mindset and truly desire to grow personally, they need to be supported to drive their own development. The supervisor-approach is insufficient for this aim. I am not suggesting, of course, that teachers should operate autonomously. They need mentors themselves to lend support, provide feedback, and formally evaluate progress gained. But the administrator-teacher dynamic should always be oriented toward empowering the teacher to drive her own development.

When it comes to developing classroom instruction in particular, Doug Lemov demonstrates in Teach Like a Champion 2.0 that the data-driven approach, culled by the teacher, is superior. He argues that this approach, “…considers teachers not just as recipients and implementers of the field knowledge, but as creators of it–problem-solvers, entrepreneurs, generators of the professional insight. It makes teachers intellectuals” (8). Imagine with Lemov if teachers viewed themselves as field experts in the craft of teaching. This self-understanding would lead to all sorts of exciting possibilities for driving one’s personal growth.

Another analogy that is helpful here is that of craftsmanship. In Cal Newport’s book So Good They Can’t Ignore You, Newport argues that in a knowledge economy, a successful professional must adopt the mindset of a craftsman. Rather than subscribing to the modern myth of “follow your passion,” knowledge workers should focus their time and attention on cultivating rare and valuable skills. They should obsess over how they can add value in a particular industry. Imagine again if teachers took on this mindset. They wouldn’t feel comfortable passively waiting for the next classroom observation. They would constantly be on the hunt, looking for the next best resource or technique that will enhance their effectiveness as teachers.

Ideology-Driven Guidance

As I mentioned in my first article, Lemov suggests that there are generally three drivers of advice that administrators give to teachers. The first form is ideology-driven. This advice tends to focus on some predetermined vision of what a classroom should look like and is often manifested by a checklist for teachers to follow. While this approach to coaching teachers can be helpful, ultimately, we must acknowledge that it is supervisor-driven. Too quickly, the teacher can become overly focused on teaching to please an administrator, rather than teaching for the growth of her students.

In the classical school movement, we can too easily settle for this kind of advice. We articulate our vision for a classical education, distill it into a checklist, and visit different classrooms to cross the items off. “Teaches Latin for forty minutes. Check. Leads a discussion on C.S. Lewis. Check. Asks questions rather than dominates through lecture. Check.”

The problem with this approach to teacher guidance, Lemov points out, is twofold. First, it puts the supervisor in the driver seat. The checklist is a thought product created and implemented by administration with no meaningful contribution offered by the teacher. Second, it unnecessarily privileges ideology over outcomes. To be clear, both our necessary, and ideology-driven guidance unduly neglects the latter.

Research-Driven Guidance

The second driver of advice tends to be research. Lemov ranks this approach higher than ideology-driven, but acknowledges that it, too, is not without its problems. He provides a litany of concerns about blindly following research:

“If research supports a particular action, does that mean you should always perform that action, to the exclusion of everything else, or should you combine it with other things? How often, in what settings, and with what other actions? And how do you meld them?…There’s a lot of research out there of varying quality, and even useful parts are interpreted with a mix of good sense, cautious fidelity, outright distortion, and blind orthodoxy. This can result in ‘research’ justifying poor teaching as easily as good.” (7)

Research is helpful, but only when it is analyzed and adapted by professionals to achieve a specific goal. All too often we hear “Research states…” and we are expected to blindly assent, especially in light of the scientistic world we live in. The reality is that research is conducted in a particular time and place, and therefore any principles gleaned must be implemented and studied in its future applied context. Like ideology, research can be disconnected from outcomes, and lead to ineffective results.

Data-Driven Guidance

The third driver of advice for teachers and the one Lemov ultimately endorses is data-driven guidance. This approach is based “…not on what should happen but on what did happen when success was achieved” (7). For Lemov, success is determined by state test scores controlled for poverty (14). After identifying the schools who performed exceptionally well on these exams, Lemov and his team visited these schools to study how those teachers approached teaching, relationships, lesson-planning, and so on.

Now, as classical educators, we are right to bristle at this notion of success. We understand that success isn’t reducible to a state test score. To a certain extent, even Lemov agrees with this, which is partially why I find his writing so refreshing. Lemov’s point isn’t state test scores. It is data. Lemov writes,

“Even if you disagree with my conclusions, whether you are a teacher or a leader in charge of a school, a school district, a state, or a nation, you can use a data-driven approach to take your best shot at measuring the outcome you think is most valuable, finding its best practitioners, and inferring guidance from their work” (8). 

As classical educators, we need to hone in on the outcomes we think are most valuable and then follow Lemov’s advice to identify and study the master craftsmen in achieving those outcomes. We did this a few years ago at the school I work at. We noticed that year after year one particular teacher helped her class perform excellent poetry and scripture recitations, regardless of the perceived strength or weakness of a particular class. We studied her technique and asked her to catalogue what she believed contributed most towards the excellent result.

The final product was a training document full of techniques that we now use year after year. And as a side benefit, the process of analyzing and discussing what made for a strong recitation coaching lesson led to a unique spirit of camaraderie amongst the faculty. Lemov himself confirms this benefit, writing, “Teaching, as it turns out, is a team sport, where teachers make each other better fastest by building robust cultures where they study and share insights about their work” (14).

Conclusion

In my next installment in this series, I’ll begin to examine the various techniques revealed through Lemov’s data-driven approach. Interestingly, one of the fascinating observations about many of the techniques is how simple they are to implement. To this point, Lemov offers this caution:

“Many of the techniques you will read about in this book may at first seem mundane, unremarkable, and even disappointing. They are not always especially innovative. They are not always intellectually startling. They sometimes fail to march in step with educational theory. But they work. As a result, they yield an outcome that more than compensates for their occasionally humble appearance.” (10)

By “educational theory,” of course, he means modern educational theory. He has in mind the sorts of theories dependent on the premise that education practices must be hip, innovative, quantifiable, or techy for them to be effective. But as Lemov himself pointed out, that’s not the direction the data points. Instead, often the data pointed toward practices of simplicity, ones that simply call on students to do the work of learning. These practices include forms of retrieval practice, akin to narration, as well as instilling finely tuned classroom routines, akin to elements of habit training.

At the end of the day, as teachers set out on the path of owning their own growth, may they be driven, not by test scores, hip techniques, or even simplicity, but Lady Wisdom herself.

Questions for Classical Educators 

Doug Lemov has given us a lot to think about. I would love to hear responses from readers and even invite you to brainstorm with me some answers to the following questions:

• How should classical educators measure success and successful teaching?
• What practices are consistently present in successful teaching?
• How do we equip teachers to be field experts, the generators of knowledge and professional insight on successful teaching?

Thanks for reading! Please respond in the comment section below! 

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