The question of learning intentions

One of the most significant changes in our practice as teachers in recent years has been a move towards greater transparency in relation to our objectives.   Once,  what we wanted students to learn was ‘secret teachers’ business’ ,  now we are much more aware of the power of sharing our intentions.    One of the most popular vehicles for sharing learning intentions is through the use of “WALTs”   (‘We Are Learning To) statements. The full blown version of this approach includes TIB (This Is Because) and WILF (What I am Looking For).   A colleague in New Zealand wryly observed to me the other day that she felt kids were in danger of ‘death by a thousand intentions’ as she noticed the explosion of WALTS crowding the classroom walls. I’ve never been a huge fan of WiLF , in particular .   The suggestion that I am the one looking for the learning rather than the students themselves has never sat right with me -  although I played with it for a while.   More recently, I have been feeling similarly uneasy about the subtext of the phrase “We are Learning To”.    Announcing what we will be learning to do/understand is uncomfortably declarative and certain whereas inquiry treats learning as more complex and emergent.

Don’t get me wrong, I am all for sharing learning intentions.  I like the word ‘intention’ as it signals a general desire or expectation but falls short of being an absolute.  Our intentions help us set the scene, give us direction and sets us on a path.   In an inquiring classroom, teachers are highly intentional  - they are guided by clear principles, they avoid time wasting activities and are driven by a powerful sense of real purpose.

But I’m re-thinking my even sparing use of ‘WALTS'.  When we announce to students what they WILL be learning – are we not, even subtly, reigning in the potential for discovery?  If inquiry teaching is about giving students agency and helping them construct and create understanding - then I think need to be cautious about such declarations.

A practice that sits much better with my inquiry principles is to share intentions in the form of questions rather than statements.  I want our learning experiences to remain intentional and transparent – but it feels better when I articulate this in question form.  For example, I might once have said to students that, as self managers, they would be “learning to devise an effective action plan to meet a goal”.  Now, I pose a question: “How can we devise effective action plans to help us meet our goals?”   As with ‘WALTS’ these intentions-as-questions may be lesson-long or may run through the course of an inquiry.

When I pose this question, I immediately invite my students to be researchers.  As they go about the task of designing and working with their action plans, we all try to notice what we are learning about the process.  If an intention is framed as a question, we naturally gather data, share and reflect.   We can create dot points that easily become success criteria.   And it’s not about getting the right answer (ie  - the teacher creates a kind of ‘sham’ question with pre conceived answers) - when we set intentions as questions, there is more room for discovery, for the unexpected and for debate between students and that makes for a much more satisfying learning experience all round.

Clarifying our intentions through questions does not have to be teacher-led.  Why not ask students what THEY think the question/s might be that drive a particular learning experience?:  “What questions might we carry into this?”  “What might this help us learn more about?”  Establishing intentions as a conversation between teachers and learners again sees a better ‘fit’ with the core principles of the inquiry classroom.

Generic skills and dispositions within the areas of thinking, communicating, researching, self managing and collaborating provide fertile ground for intentions-as-questions.   Here are some examples:

How can we record our observations accurately?

What roles can help a team function smoothly?

How can we show someone we are really listening?

What strategies help us manage our time more effectively?

What helps me stay more focused on a task?

How can we edit our own writing more effectively?

How can we determine the most relevant parts of a text?

How can props be used to power up a presentation?

How can we use creative thinking to help us problem solve?

How can we give each other useful feedback when working in a team?

What are some efficient methods to take notes when viewing clips for information?

The examples here still express a learning intention - but they invite the learner to investigate and construct their own ideas in response.

The tension between what we hope students will come to learn and our openness to the unexpected and unplanned is what makes inquiry teaching so intriguing and satisfying.  A question  rather than statement can help us stay in that lovely, intriguing space – and doesn’t make us any less intentional.

How do you share or construct intentions with your students?

 Just wondering…..

What would it be like to be a student in your classroom? Walking in the learner's shoes.

A question I often encourage teachers to ask themselves is: 'what would it be like to be a student in your classroom?'   Empathy  (simply defined as ‘understanding and sharing the feelings of others’)  is a disposition we all want to nurture in our students and one we MUST continue to nurture in ourselves. Empathy builds relationships and relationships are the key to quality teaching. One of the characteristics of great inquiry teachers is their ability to ‘read’ their students.   The questions we ask, the way we scaffold learning, the expectations we have, the degree to which we step in or let go are micro-skills that are strengthened by quality assessment  - and also by empathy.    Empathy grows when we challenge ourselves to stand in the shoes of those we teach.

In the approach to inquiry I use, I emphasise the importance of ‘tuning in’. This is all about tuning in to the student and allowing the student to tune in to themselves – what they think, feel and wonder about the context for inquiry they are launching into.   When we hear students’ misconceptions, when they articulate beliefs or ideas that confront us or even when they show a negative or flippant attitude at this stage -  it can be a challenge to remain empathic!   In other words, when we tune in – we don't always like what we see/hear!   Careful, genuine questioning, taking time to listen, standing back and watching allows US to better inhabit the space the child is in at that moment and seek understanding.  As a teacher I need to ask myself:  “What are they telling me without telling me?”  “Why might they be feeling/thinking that?” “Have I ever felt like that about something? Why?”  ‘What can I do to understand this feeling/belief/position more deeply?'    Empathy requires us to take a more inquiring approach in our everyday interactions with students - to be wary of assumptions and to care about where the learner is at.

One of the best strategies for developing one’s empathy is to create opportunities to ‘walk in the shoes’ of another.  If I ask teachers to consider what it would be like to be a student in their class, then surely I need to ask myself what it would be like to be a participant in one of my workshops!    As someone who spends most of her time presenting or facilitating learning, I rarely have formal opportunities to do this.   Of course, I learn every day – WITH teachers and kids – but it is a treat to find myself as a workshop participant.

I have been very grateful for three such experiences in recent times – one with Lynne Erickson in Hong Kong, another with the wonderful Perry Rush of Island Bay Primary School in NZ and my latest (today!)  - a delightful morning, with Sam Sherratt and Chad Walsh of 'Time and Space Education' here in Melbourne.  In each case, my thinking about inquiry was stimulated and developed but it was the experience of inhabiting a different ‘space’ and identity in the room that was so important for me.

When I experience the role of participant,  I notice things about myself that help me remain empathic when I next facilitate.  I notice when I am intensely engaged and when I am less so, I notice how I respond to the request to work with people I don't know, I notice how feeling hungry or tired affects my engagement, I notice how where I am sitting in the room and indeed how the room is set up makes a difference, I notice when I want to talk and can’t or when I don't want to talk but am asked to.   I notice what distracts me and what I do to stay focused. I notice how I get in my own way at times. I notice how fantastic it feels when I can make a connection between my prior learning and new ideas.  And watching someone else teach makes me think about how I teach – it's such a powerful form of personal inquiry!

I know each time I do this, I return to my ‘classroom’ with a palpably different feeling about and empathy towards my learners.  I want to stay more tuned in to their experience.

In inquiry classrooms, the distinction between teacher and learner is blurred.  Children teach other and the teacher is guided by the students and so on but we do, for the most part, remain ‘the teacher’.  When we truly put ourselves in the learner’s shoes…when we seek others who can teach us, when we participate in learning something new – alone or with others we can consciously remind ourselves of the joys and the challenges of learning itself.  And we walk back into our classrooms  with greater empathy and insight.

Many teachers have regular opportunities to attend professional learning workshops, peer led staff meetings or other situations where they are ‘the learner’.  Regardless of the content, I suggest we can always make the most of this time to inquire into ourselves as a learners – how we respond, how we behave and how we feel.  In turn, we can become more empathic teachers – and better learners.

When was the last time you walked in your learner’s shoes?

Just wondering…

Moving on from the KWL chart : student questions and inquiry

Lately I have found myself questioning questions.   They are indeed the heart and soul of inquiry. Questions give voice to our passions and our curiosity.  When we bravely release a question into the air – we are vulnerable, open and ready to learn.   Where once, question-asking was the teacher’s territory, in an inquiry classroom, students’ questions are as important - if not more-so than the teacher’s.  The presence of students’ questions  (orally and visually) in a learning space is one of the first signs that I have entered a zone of inquiry. Many of the sessions I have recently facilitated with students have focused on the art of question-asking.  I regularly hear teachers voice their frustration with what I think of as ‘sham questions’ – those designed to teacher-please or simply to fulfil a requirement - frustratingly narrow, irrelevant or poorly constructed or students who ask no questions at all.  Part of the problem can be that we have failed to move beyond the linear notion of inquiry that framed our previous thinking (“What do you know? What do you want to know....?”) and to embrace a more invitational,  organic and cyclical approach.  In short, we need to move on from the KWL chart.

A couple of weeks ago, I worked with a lovely group of year 6 students who had been busily drafting questions for personal inquiries following their shared inquiry into Australia’s connection with Asia.  While the interest was high,  this was no easy task for many of the students.   We soon realised that some kind of “success criteria” were needed to help them figure out what would constitute an effective question for this particular kind of task.

Drafting some initial criteria for questions

We spent the best part of an hour exploring the question “What makes a good question?”  Of course – the answer is “It depends”.   We need to be clear about the purposes and nature of the task.  Through conversations, trial and error, design and feedback -  we eventually devised some success criteria to guide the formulation, self and peer assessment of their questions.  Even with the criteria available, however,  some students still struggled to articulate their interests beyond a general sense that they ‘wanted to learn more about….’   It reminded me how often I am in this exact same position with my own learning.  And even when I think I know what I am looking for – what I end up finding out prompts me to re-think my original intent.  Whether or not I begin with a question depends on the nature of my investigation.  I mostly end up asking something…but certainly not always from the outset.  I read this recently and it really struck a chord:

• “The best way to find out things, if you come to think of it, is not to ask questions at all. If you fire off a question, it is like firing off a gun; bang it goes, and everything takes flight and runs for shelter. But if you sit quite still and pretend not to be looking, all the little facts will come and peck round your feet, situations will venture forth from thickets and intentions will creep out and sun themselves on a stone; and if you are very patient, you will see and understand a great deal more than a man with a gun.”  Elsbeth Huxley 1959: 272 *

Developing the capacity to ask questions remains a significant part of the inquiry teacher’s role BUT to make this work we need to attend to two things.  Firstly (and somewhat ironically)  we need to acknowledge that inquiry does not need to begin with a question…they can pop up along the way or even at the end of a process of investigation.  Secondly, we can spend time exploring the art of questioning itself.   We need to inquire INTO questions  - empowering students to frame and reframe questions as needed. Here are a few tips that may help you move beyond the tyranny of the KWL chart

• Invite rather than insist on questions early on in an inquiry journey.

• Try using the term ‘wondering’ rather than ‘question’.  Wondering’ has a softness to it that invites risk taking.

• Encourage/display/celebrate questions about all sorts of things – not just those things associated with a “unit of inquiry”.

 “Why do possums sleep in the morning?” a five year old’s personal wondering 

• If you are using something like a ‘wonderwall’  help students see it as a work in progress – a dynamic space that allows for questions to be taken down, added to, refined and grouped throughout the journey

• Share YOUR questions – model curiosity and the art of framing questions by actively and authentically participating in the process yourself!

• Allow students time to play with the material about the area under investigation.  Contradictory as it sounds, we often need to do some finding out before we know what we want or need to find out!   Use provocations to stimulate questions.

• Avoid demonising the ‘skinny’ or closed question.  Most researchers need to use a combination of both to guide their investigations. Help students notice the way different kinds of questions are needed for different purposes.

• Challenge students to find a question as a result of their investigation – a question can be a conclusion!

• Recognise that the impetus for investigation may come more from a desire to make/build/design/create.  These generate questions but often through the process.

• Devise compelling questions to drive rich inquiry (I have blogged about this previously: http://justwonderingblog.com/2012/10/28/walking-the-world-with-questions-in-our-heads/)

• Finally, spend time inquiring into questions themselves. They are fascinating linguistic expressions!  Play with questions – when students DO generate them, examine the different ways they are structured. Ask students to group them in different ways. Some of the challenges I have given students recently include:

Which questions do you think will be the easiest for us to answer?

Which will be the hardest? (Why?)

Which questions are you most excited/least excited about?

Which ones are open/closed?

Let’s group them according to best ways to find out about them? Which are google-able? Which are not?

Most-least important? 

How flexible are we about our students’ questions?  How much time to we spend reflecting with students on the nature of questions themselves?  Can powerful inquiry happen if we DON’T ask questions?

 Just wondering….

* Huxley, E (1959) The Flame Trees of Thika: Memories of an African Childhood Penguin

Teacher talk in inquiry classrooms

I’m sitting in a café at an airport in New Zealand – scanning through emails while I wait for my flight.  My attention is drawn to a young woman’s voice at the window behind me, “ Wow – isn't it amazing to watch this!  I look at these HUGE planes and it makes me wonder how they fly so high in the sky when they are so heavy…”

Having contemplated the same question many times, I turned around to see who my fellow 'wonderer' was.  She was crouched at the window staring out in awe at the planes taking off and landing . She was not alone. Beside her were about 6 children who looked to be about 4 years old.  Proudly laden with pre-school back packs and bright yellow t-shirts, they too were staring out the window, their little hands splayed like starfish on the glass, their eyes wide with excitement:

 Child: “I can see another moving thing!! Look!”

(Teacher) Oh yes!  I wonder what that’s for?

Child: “It’s for the bags. The bags go in the plane”

Teacher: “Tell us more…”

Child “ They have to put the bags inside for the people”

Oh – I see… I wonder which part carries the bags?

Another child: “It’s joining up!”  See! 

Child “Not for the bags. It is for the people to get out” They go down the stairs

 (The teacher stays silent for a while…the kids take their cue and watch…)

Teacher:  "Wow –  you have some interesting ideas guys.  I’m going to watch for a bit longer and see if I can figure out what it might be for...”

Child: “It IS for the bags”

TEACHER It might be, yes, won't it be interesting to see what happens…you’ve got me thinking about how they get people and bags on. I wonder what else has to go on the plane?

About ten minutes later the group reappears in front of me. Once again, the teacher crouches down so she is ‘eye to eye’ with her students. I strain to listen…noticing how gently spoken she is – none of that nasal, unnecessarily loud teacher tone we can inadvertently develop:

You have noticed so many moving things here.  James mentioned that he wanted to see what is down below us. I wonder how we could get down there?

“Those moving stairs!!”

“Can we go on the moving stairs?”

(Teacher) Sure! That’s one way we can get down.  I noticed there is also a lift over there –

“I want to go in the lift and press the buttons!”

“Me too!”

“I want to go on the stairs thing”

(Teacher) “Hmmm. So some of us want to do one thing and some of us want to do another but remember we agreed that we need to stay together. What could we do?

“Do a vote” (they’ve clearly done this before…)

 (Teacher) “Great idea – OK. So have a think about what you would like to do, Moving stairs or the lift?" 

 The children vote on the escalator. Only one child wants to use the lift. I am intrigued to see what she will do…

(Teacher)" Hey Connor.  Can you see what happened?"

 (Child) Yes – we’ll go on the stairs

( Teacher) That’s right. Most of us seem to want to do that – so thanks for coming along.  OK team – let’s get moving!  I wonder what this will feel like….?’

And off they go – hand in hand, chatting, focused, happy and collaborative.

It so happens, I had been revisiting one of my favourite books earlier that day – Peter Johnston’s “Opening Minds”.  This beautiful book reminds me of the power of words:

 “(The teacher’s) words change the life of the classroom. They change the worlds the children inhabit, and consequently who they can be, what they will feel, what they can know, and what will be ‘normal’ behaviour”

He also offers a powerful metaphor for the language of the inquiry teacher – ‘conversational jazz’.  A great inquiry teacher is a highly skilled improviser, carefully using his/her talk to scaffold thinking, honour the child, model curiosity, respect difference and most of all to ensure the student owns their learning. This conversation happens in response to the moment – through careful listening and on-the-spot decision making.

In this precious ‘airport vignette’ I was privileged to watch a skilled inquiry teacher in action. The words she chose – and indeed the way in which she chose to communicate them – told me a lot about what she believed about how children learn and about what her role was. Her words:

• valued and ignited curiosity and questioning
• respected and validated (rather than judged) the children’s theories
• gently suggested new possibilities without privileging one idea over another
• activated deeper thinking
• modeled ways in which we manage difference and negotiate within a community of learners

Her language is tentative and open…’wonder’ ‘might’ ‘could’ …. And her non-verbal language is inviting, respectful and warm.

The words we use (and choose not to use) – and how we use them hold enormous power. Much of what it means to be an inquiry based teacher lies in classroom discourse. Just as classroom furniture arrangements and  wall displays reveal a great deal about what we value and believe – so does our choice of words.

What do your words – and indeed your students’ words – say about you as a teacher? What might  we expect to hear being said (and not said) in an inquiring environment?

Just wondering….

Inquiring into the ‘how’….

One of the key principles of inquiry based learning is that HOW the learner learns is as important as WHAT they are learning about.  Inquiry teachers talk a lot about process and the importance of learning to learn.  It’s part of our discourse…but lately I have been wondering how much we REALLY value it.  Enough to raise it to the level of the ‘content?’ of an inquiry? Enough to report on? Enough to devote real time to its exploration? Enough, to actually inquire into it?

 I spend a lot of time contributing to teacher inquiry (including my own) by giving ‘fishbowl’ lessons. Students and I work together (we’re the fish!) while a bunch of teachers look on and participate to varying degrees.  It's a great way for us all to think about what it means to be an inquiry teacher.

 Every ‘demonstration’ lesson I conduct includes an explicit focus on learning processes.  We might, for example, be investigating the ways in which our community has changed over time but – at the same time – we might inquire into HOW to manage our time well when we are working in a group.  Or perhaps we are inquiring into the materials that everyday objects are made of but, at the same time, we can be inquiring into the skill of observation and recording - exploring the best ways to do this effectively.   This ‘split screen’ teaching as Guy Claxton so eloquently puts it, creates a rich and layered approach to the way we guide students.  It’s not just about the what – it’s about the how.  Many inquiry-based educators argue that it is in fact the inquiry skill-set that constitutes the most valuable learning for students.   When students discover how to learn, their capacity to learn continues to grow.

 I recently enjoyed working with a year 4 class who had been involved in an inquiry that demanded a great deal of collaboration.  The purpose of the session was to step aside from the ‘content’ of the inquiry and to spend time investigating the process.  We needed to do some inquiry INTO collaboration – what was working, what wasn’t, how to manage challenges and  how to do a better job of it.  By reflecting on how they had worked in their teams, the students were able to gather and sort data on what helps and hinders the process.  Importantly, new avenues for inquiry into collaboration opened up, for example, how does body language affect collaboration?  How can we deal with someone who is not contributing?  

As teachers reflected on the session afterwards, it was clear that some of us found it difficult to justify ‘so much time’ focused on such specific process oriented work.  Our reflections made me wonder whether we can become guilty of seeing this kind of learning as an ‘extra’ to the REAL work of the inquiry.  Do we give this the emphasis it deserves?

 The skills and dispositions needed for effective inquiry are indisputable.  In my work, I have taken to describing these as learning ‘assets’ and they include being able to manage ourselves, communicate effectively, collaborate with others, research in a range of ways and of course to think – creatively, critically and reflectively.  The inquirer also needs to BE courageous, focused, curious and confident amongst other things. Such skills and dispositions are echoed throughout contemporary curriculum frameworks such as New Zealand’s Curriculum and in the ‘general capabilities’ of the new Australian Curriculum. The transdisciplinary skills, profiles and attitudes of the PYP serve a similar function.  Few would disagree with the importance of these skills and dispositions – so why do they seem to remain frustratingly peripheral in planning and assessment? 

Many of us did not grow up in classrooms that focused on learning processes. I wonder how much time WE give to questions like “How DO people collaborate effectively? What DOES it mean to be a good self manager?”  What do we know about effective research techniques?  Unpacking some of these questions around the planning table is a start. Rather than asking: ‘what skills can we ‘cover’ in this inquiry – let's ask…'what skills can we inquire into?'  Here are some sample essential questions:

What does it mean to think creatively?

 How do I know if I can trust an information source?

How can I manage my time more effectively?

How can I get my message across to an audience without words? 

What makes a good question?

What makes a team work more effectively?

How can I record information from an interview in an efficient way?

How can I use my thinking to help me plan ahead?

What can I do to avoid distractions?

What strategies help us keep a team focused?

What do you do when you just don’t get it?

 For those teachers working with a PYP planner, consider including a process oriented line of inquiry.  Why not have guest speakers who are ‘experts’ on skills like self management?  Why not have kids survey others about how they stay curious and creative?  I know pockets of this kind of inquiry exist but I guess I am just wondering how we can ensure the skills and dispositions of inquiry share some of the spotlight currently enjoyed by the content.  These skills ARE indeed ‘transdisciplinary’ so provide wonderful vehicles for authentic connections between specialist and generalist teachers and across subject areas

One thing I do know is that while it is possible  - and often very satisfying to inquire into skills and dispositions…all of us need to have a purpose for doing so. This is why the integration of ‘what’ and ‘how’ are so vital…investigating how to grow our creative thinking, for example, can work best when integrated into an art or design-oriented inquiry that demands this kind of thinking.

 I used to think that it was sufficient simply to check off a list of skills covered in a unit of inquiry.  Now I know that such skills are actually PART of the inquiry.  I want my students to know that each journey of inquiry upon which they embark will contribute not only to their understanding of ‘the way the world works’ but will build their capacity as learners. They will be able to add new skills and dispositions to their tool kit – the one they carry from year to year, from school to life beyond school. 

 Next time you are seated around the planning table with colleagues or you are negotiating an inquiry pathway with students – ask yourselves what you could investigate about the process of inquiry itself.  How  do you make sure skills and dispositions are truly ‘alive’ in your classroom and not just words on a planner?

Just wondering….

Busting some myths about 'the inquiry cycle'....

I once read an interview with a hero of my early teaching days – Donald Graves.  He was asked about the way people had misinterpreted his ‘process writing’ model and replied that sometimes he wished he’d never written it down! Years later I understand the frustration behind that sentiment.  It’s hard to do justice to the complexities and nuances of inquiry in writing.  So much gets lost. Something that is rich, layered and multidimensional can come across as flat, linear and recipe-like. Over the years,  I have published several books that share a ‘cycle of inquiry’ and the kinds of learning engagements that we might design within a cycle.   I have seen hundreds of interpretations of this idea in classrooms.  Many have been gratifying and exciting. Teachers who really ‘get’ the intention, understand the complexity and invite their students into the learning have blown me away with what they have done.   And I have also seen (and heard) many bewildering versions or iterations of the cycle that are such a long way off the original conceptualization and intent!  Ironically, I have seen slavish adherence to a cycle actually impede rather than enhance inquiry.

So why even ‘have’ such a cycle? 

Articulating a model or framework for the process of inquiry is a helpful way to support and guide our practice. The intention of the ‘cycle’ is to guide the teacher’s  (and learner’s ) thinking beyond simply coming up with ‘activities’ and towards a more thoughtful process that assists students to move from the known to the new.    The need to ‘name’ some kind of process was first revealed to me as a young teacher by my fabulous mentors Marilyn Woolley and Keith Pigdon. They helped me move beyond thematic planning and into a more rigorous way of thinking about how to guide learning.  Once I understood constructivism  -  it made sense to me to describe what was such a natural process of building understanding over time.  My job as a teacher was to help design experiences for learners that would support the brain’s best inclinations to wonder, look for patterns, seek new information, link to prior learning and transfer.  While it has changed over time, the cycle I now use owes much to Woolley and Pigdon’s visionary work.

Here are some of the more common misconceptions about ‘the cycle’ and my response to them.  I hope it is as useful to read as it has been to write!!

Misconception 1: Inquiry is all about ‘the cycle’. We DO the cycle….therefore, we DO inquiry.

Simply using an inquiry cycle does not make us inquiry teachers.  As I have written before, inquiry is a ‘way of being’ in the classroom.  Yes, there are planning frameworks that can support the ways in which we design learning experiences for and with students but this is only part of the inquiry story.  An inquiry teacher knows how to question students in ways that enhance and deepen thinking, how to offer choice and honour voice, how to seize an unexpected moment for investigation and how to embed learning in purposeful context   It’s a pedagogy – not just a planning framework.

Misconception 2:  The cycle is a recipe. We need to follow the stages in sequence for it to ‘work out’ in the end.

Nope. It’s a flexible framework. Not a recipe.  Essentially, inquiry cycles provide labels for a process that is common to many disciplines.  Most people agree that inquiry :  involves time to establish your current thinking, your needs and questions, some ‘hunting and gathering’ of information/ideas/ data, some sorting organizing and meaning making and some kind of creation/application/transfer/use.  And most agree that this process is cyclical in nature. New discoveries lead to new questions and so on.  But this process is much neater on paper than it is in practice.  True inquiry is often messy and recursive. We gather and sort then realize we have new questions so we return to some more gathering.  In the cycle I use, I place great emphasis on the role of ‘tuning in’ to students’ thinking to establish pathways for investigation. While it often sits at the ‘start’ of the process – I return to ‘tuning in’ regularly.  These are phases more than they are stages, elements more than they are steps.  There is nothing contained, neat or particularly orderly about a lot of inquiry BUT having a relatively simple iteration of it in the form of this cycle can help us think more clearly and actually better manage the messiness without getting overwhelmed!

#Misconception 3: All inquiries go through the same phases over a similar time frame.

Much as it would be convenient, no two inquiries are the same.  Although most journeys will contain elements of this cycle, starting points, emphases and time frames vary from context to context and depend on the group of students, their age level and what they bring to the journey in the first place.    I have seen some beautiful inquiry journeys travelled within an hour. I have seen some that last a year.  I have seen some that really don’t involve much ‘action’ but are highly worthwhile and engaging and others that are really all about the action.

# Misconception 4: Using a ‘cycle’ as a guide, we can plan a complete unit of inquiry for students

I think this is the most troubling use of the cycle I see. The cycle should INFORM planning, guide it but it doesn’t mean we can create the whole thing before we start.   When I use a planner with the elements of the cycle in it – I see that planner as a guide throughout the process – not as a template to be filled in one sitting.  The cycle is emergent….how kids ‘sort out’ the ideas information depends on what they gather – and that is not something we can determine in detail.  The cycle unfolds.

#Misconception 5: The cycle is for teachers.

Students benefit from having some ‘meta-language’ to attach to processes they use as inquirers.  Some kind of framework should be developed for and WITH students that helps everyone gain a shared language. Making this visible to students helps them think about how journeys of inquiry are both similar and different. It is really useful to display the cycle but only if it is referred to, analysed, played with and critiqued!

#Misconception 6: The cycle only applies to ‘units of inquiry’ in disciplines like science and social studies.

I see many examples of this cycle in action in a range of disciplines and contexts.  Some ‘tweaking’ is needed at times to best fit the nature of the discipline but it is interesting to explore this kind of transfer.  Check out for example – the great work done on http://www.iphys-ed.com about inquiry based PE or Bruce Ferrington’s application of the cycle to math inquiry - http://authenticinquirymaths.blogspot.co.at/

# Misconception 7: It’s my way or the highway or ‘there is only one cycle’….

There are many versions of a ‘cycle of inquiry’. The fact that there ARE many versions is healthy and affirming. I love the different emphases, language and uses of these cycles and think that, together, they help offer us lots to consider as we continue to clarify this intriguing process in our own minds .  Explore various cycles. Look for patterns…where do they all agree? Find one that works for you and your students. Create your own – but be consistent. Shared language across a school has great benefits.

A cycle of inquiry helps us plan and teach with intention.   When it is understood, it pushes us beyond simply coming up with ‘activities’ and challenges us to think about how skills and concepts can be developed and deepened over time.   It gives us some shared ‘meta’ language to use with students and colleagues

How do YOU use a cycle of inquiry to inform your work as an inquiry teacher?

…Just wondering….