The Wonder of Writing.: what writing a children's book taught me about teaching writing.

In our attic there is a large storage box chock full of scrap books, diaries, lovingly decorated journals, autograph books, song lyrics, half-written poems and packets of teenage-angst filled correspondence between me and my best friends in school.  Second only to the crates of photos lying next to it, this box is the closest thing I have to an archive of my life. It is an enormous box of words. I occasionally wonder (and worry about!) what my daughters will make of it when I am gone… but I can’t bring myself to dispose of it. Words are like that.  As a form of expression, writing has always been my go-to. Whether for an audience, to capture a moment or feeling I never wanted to lose, to communicate with someone,  or simply to work something through, writing is a constant  in both my professional and personal life. It is often the case that I write the words I cannot say. 

I began my career having majored in children’s literature, language and literacy. I could not wait to teach young readers and writers. As a full-time classroom teacher,  supporting children to publish books, writing together for multiple purposes and using literature to inspire the craft of writing was a joy.  My interest in inquiry as an approach to teaching and learning only amplified my commitment to seeing children as authors and to mining wonderful literature for what it could teach us about language. 

In the early nineties, I was commissioned to write some books for a school-based reading series.  Along with my husband Stephen Ray who has a background in zoology,  I wrote books about snakes, beetles, lizards, eagles, frogs and nocturnal animals.  Combining my love for writing with his knowledge of zoology was an incredible, creative challenge that helped me understand so much about language and the communication of ideas. I have written many books for teachers and countless articles and blogs … but writing for children was an entirely different experience.   It was so much harder than I anticipated! 

 Many years later,  and many books for teachers in between, I had an idea.

  Well, I should say that the idea had me.  Winsome was like that. She waited until I was on a rare holiday, on my own, in the quiet of a warm evening when she decided to whisper her way into my heart,  and a new book was born.  It took two years and a pandemic for ‘The Wonder of Winsome’ to evolve from an intriguing idea and creative urge to a book I am now able to hold in my hands. 

Creating a narrative for children has been such another deep inquiry into the process and craft of writing. I feel as if I have been travelling on parallel tracks – one as a writer and the other as a teacher. As I have been writing, I have also thought a lot about the way we ‘teach’ writing to our young learners. In this post, I want to share some of the lessons I have learned.  They are not new ones, by any means, but I hope they are worth being reminded of…

1.     Writing  ( however much one likes it ) can be plain ol’ hard work.  The initial romance wears off. 

Expecting our young writers to work on a piece with sustained energy and enthusiasm is unrealistic. We need to acknowledge the challenges and talk about how we can work through the ‘dips’ in our enthusiasm. Timely feedback, plenty of opportunities to share those moments when they are ‘stuck’ and listening to real authors talk about how they push through those times can be so helpful. Share strategies that focus on the mental process of sustaining your focus as much as the specific strategies related to the craft of writing.  

 2.     Just because you are not writing doesn’t mean you are not composing. 

 Every writer’s process is different, of course, but something I was very conscious of was just how much time I spent thinking about the writing.  Some of the most productive composition work happened when I was not actually writing but on a walk, in the shower or in the car.   It made me think about the times I urged kids to keep going with their writing or the hasty judgements I made if they were staring off into the middle distance. Dreaming, imagining, visualising, rehearsing – these are part of the process and time needs to be available to young writers to do so. We also need to let them step away from a piece - even start something else and come back to it.  Flexibility, time and permission to ‘put it on the back burner’ can be critical to the quality of the piece. 

3.     Writing is an inquiry in itself. 

 Inquiry is an iterative process. It involves investigating, or trialling, or testing something and often re-thinking, changing tac, reviewing.  Writing is far from linear. Like any journey of inquiry it loops back in on itself, takes unexpected twists and turns and is in a constant state of revision. I was so conscious of the messiness of this process. Building this story was by no means, a neat organised narrative arc. Yet how often do we suggest to children that their stories start at the beginning, get to a ‘complication’ and finish with a resolution.  How often to we slip into teaching the process of writing  as if it were a fixed recipe? Do we help children see that writing is so often a non-linear process that is refined and reshaped over time? A story may begin in the middle…

4.     When you are writing because you choose to and about something that you care about, your desire to do it well is enhanced.

 I chose to write this story. I chose to write a narrative. I chose to write it about something I care deeply about.  Having made that choice, I felt committed to see it through.  I cared about what I was writing and wanted the words to connect with my readers.  Too often, of late, I have heard teachers talk about giving children choice in writing as something special – a once a week ‘treat’, an exception.  To deprive children of the opportunity to regularly write about things they care about seems to me to do a grave disservice to the child and to the craft of writing itself.  Choice should be the general rule rather than the exception. 

 5.     Writing is often a team effort. 

 While I wrote the book – it would not be what it is without the many collaborations I sought during the process. I had friends, teachers, parents and children all read it at various stages and their responses were incredibly helpful in the process of re-thinking and refining.  This is the case with all my writing. As a writer you don’t wait until your work is published to have an audience read it, you road test it along the way.  As young writers, our children need plenty of opportunities to confer with educators and peers. We need to help them feel comfortable with reading their work aloud to each other, swapping drafts for feedback, learning how to give and receive helpful advice. Writing in solitude and under exam/test conditions is about as far away from the reality of writing in the real world as I could possibly imagine.

6.     Receiving feedback is not easy

Taking your writing to someone is is a risky act and requires courage!  When we confer with young writers, we need to remind ourselves of just how vulnerable they may feel.  It can be hard to distance the self from the writing.  As we confer with our writers, let’s continue to remind ourselves to find what’s working for us as readers in their piece and to show a positive, sincere interest in the child’s intention and their subject matter before moving to a teaching point. My readers were beautifully curious about what I was setting out to do and made it safe for me to receive their thoughts. 

 7.     Brevity can enhance quality.

If you have ever tried to craft an abstract for something or even get a tweet down to the right number of characters, you will know that writing less is so much more difficult than writing more. Writing for children meant keeping the text succinct which was a delicious challenge for me as a habitually wordy writer!  It made me a better one. Let’s keep encouraging our young writers to aim for quality over quantity – to take delight in crafting one, really beautiful sentence. Let’s be careful aabout saying things like “Wow – look at all this writing! Look how much you/she/he wrote!” 

 8.     Words, illustration and design have a powerful relationship. 

The relationship between illustration and words is a profound one. Sharryn Madder’s art work elevated my story to a level I had not anticipated.  Her gentle, detailed drawings brought a whimsy to the book that words alone could not achieve. I rewrote some sections on receiving her art work. The designer (my brother Graeme) added even more shape and meaning to the story through the way he played with fonts, colour and placement of images around the text.  As I experienced this process, I wished I was back in the classroom. Now I would work on forging relationships between authors, illustrators and designers in the process of book-making.  How often do we do this? What connections might we make between design technologies and our children’s writing or between our passionate artists and our budding authors? 

 9.     Grammar, spelling and punctuation can be fascinating to inquire into - when the time is right.

If I had had to fret too much about grammar and punctuation in the beginning, I doubt I would have a book today. My focus on things like ellipses, the positioning of inverted commas, whether to begin a sentence with ‘And’ and a range of other technical decisions all came later. And by the time they did come, I approached them as an inquiry. How did other authors do it?  Was there actually a rule about this?  What if I broke the rule? Is the convention the same in Australia as it is elsewhere?  Grammar, spelling and punctuation can become fascinating points of inquiry as one moves towards publication.  Using mini lessons, and targeted small focus groups at the point of need (for example, gathering a group together who have all included dialogue in their pieces) allows us to meet writers’ needs in a ‘just in time’ rather than ‘just in case’ way. 

 10.  Having an audience can make all the difference. 

I wrote this story for people to read. For kids and for their parents and teachers.  I am writing this blog with an audience in mind.  Most of the writing I really put my mind to is for an audience and has a clear purpose.  I don’t tend to put the same effort into my daily journal because that’s just for me.  Our young writers need an audience that goes beyond the teacher. This, in itself, positions them as an author which fuels that powerful writer’s identity.  Perhaps I am not looking in the right places but I don’t see the lovely, published books in classrooms I once did. I don’t see children in author’s circles giving each other honest feedback about their writing in order to inform the next draft  - and the next.  Composing stories that become books for others to read is one of the most beautiful, authentic contexts for writing we can offer children. Without the thought that my little story might end up being read to a group of children somewhere in the world, I doubt I would have persisted,.  

The wonderful Matt Glover who helped me launch my book last week (check out his great ‘Author to Author’ site where authors discuss their writing process) , often reminds us that writing is one of those things we all teach, but don’t all do.  The journey of writing ‘The Wonder of Winsome’ taught me so much about teaching writing itself. It was a true inquiry process in which I discovered as much about myself as a writer as I did about the process of publishing. 

We are better inquiry teachers when we make time to inquire. We are better teachers of writing when we make time to write.

When did you last give yourself time to write?  What did you discover? Do your children see themselves as authors? Do you encourage your students to write for and about what they care about?

(For stockists of “The Wonder of Winsome” go to the shop at kathmurdoch.com.au)

Just wondering 

Curiosity, courage and the field beyond.

“Out beyond ideas of wrong-doing and right-doing

there is a field. 

I'll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass

the world is too full to talk about.” 

Rumi.

I have shared a quote from this famous poem in previous blogs but, in recent times, I’ve found myself referring to it both internally and in my conversations with others. In fact, the notion of a ‘field beyond’ seems to have permeated SO much of my recent reading, listening, viewing  and thinking that I felt compelled to blog about it.  

Because, of course, I see such a strong connection between it and inquiry (yes, it’s true, I can find a connection to inquiry in almost anything)

The connection to inquiry is not the obvious one  - but let’s get that out of the way first.  This is a contested approach.  Despite so much evolution in the way inquiry is practiced in contemporary classrooms, it continues to be routinely pitted against the so-called traditional approach of direct instruction.   I have written about this in previous posts (here and here)  so won’t go on about it here but suffice to say (again) inquiry learning is not about abrogating our responsibility as educators.  The pedagogy is primarily about careful listening, observing, noticing, questioning and scaffolding but it can also include strategic explaining, modelling, demonstrating - used at the point of need.  The either/or, us/them, works/doesn’t work, arguments that remain alive in this field are beginning, quite frankly, to bore me.  I feel like so many of us have moved on. The inquiry-oriented educators I encounter in schools have a much more nuanced, sophisticated understanding of inquiry as a stance and find the simplistic, sweeping declaration that it simply ‘doesn’t work’ to be absurd.  For whom? In what context?  I like to think that I operate in the ‘field beyond’ when it comes to inquiry. I have no interest in proselytising nor mounting a defence – I am interested in moving forward to the space beyond the argument. 

Polarisation and false dichotomies abound in education.  I have noticed, for example,  a recent resurgence in the media of the most public war of all – that between phonics and ‘balanced literacy’ and witnessed some tense conversations in schools where people referred to being on a ‘side’ in that debate. Really? ‘Sides’?   Another common argument is the skills vs knowledge one.  Again, this is puzzling.  Surely we can and should value both learning how to learn while we learn about the world around us?   A teacher I met at a recent social gathering proudly asserted that his school ‘didn’t believe in or do play-based learning’  because they had a ‘curriculum to get through.’ As we talked, it  wasn’t the lack of understanding of the nature of play based learning that troubled me most– it was the strident certainty with which the opinion was delivered.  There was no room for AND in his thinking. It was either/or. 

Twitter, of course, is awash with the kind of toxic, unproductive ‘Punch and Judy’ show commentary (thanks for that analogy Guy Claxton!) and has meant several people I know have stopped engaging with it.  I happened to read through a recent facebook thread of comments related to an article on Covid Vaccinations and was absolutely horrified by the tone and manner of argument between people. It was, for the most part, personal, abusive, strident and absolute - with no ‘ground giving’ at all.   I could go on and on with examples of what feels like conflict for the sake of conflict and our inability to let go of an idea and rethink our position. But I don’t need to – I am sure you all have plenty of your own examples within and beyond education. 

So, what DOES all this have to do with inquiry?  Well, a lot – as it turns out.  I am far from the first to say this but the missing ingredient in so many of these unnecessary polarisations is curiosity.  

Curiosity and an open mind are surely amongst the most powerful and important dispositions to nurture not only in our learners but in ourselves. When we are curious, rather than defensive, we begin to discover the more useful space beyond right and wrong  - and we grow.  But this kind of curiosity means we need to be prepared to be vulnerable, to be ready to loosen ourselves from our safe, comfortable ‘tribe’ and go into the unknown.  Curiosity of this kind requires courage. 

I recently listened to a lengthy interview with a well-known British educator, Adam Boxer.   Adam is what many would describe as a traditional teacher who is critical of inquiry learning, collaboration, project based learning and other approaches regarded as more progressive.   I think even 10 years ago, his comments would have really pressed my buttons- but with 36 years of teaching behind me and a growing fascination for the way curiosity can shift one’s engagement in challenging conversations, I found the whole interview stimulating and useful - even as I listened to inquiry being described as ‘fluffy’ and completely ineffective!  Cultivating curiosity in the face of criticism is one of the most liberating skills we can teach ourselves and our young learners.  Cultivating curiosity means we help ourselves find some common ground - it helps us truly listen to ideas that can enhance and broaden our thinking and ultimately enrich what we do. ‘Otherness’ (other views/beliefs/cultures) becomes an opportunity for learning rather than a basis for fear. We can choose to be fascinated or fearful. Why not choose fascination? 

 In his recent book, ‘Think Again’ Adam Grant puts a compelling case for the art of changing one’s mind: 

“Intelligence is traditionally viewed as the ability to think and learn. Yet in a turbulent world, there’s another set of cognitive skills that might matter more: the ability to rethink and unlearn.” 

Grant suggests that what we think, know and believe needs to be routinely  ‘renovated’. How often do we renovate our thinking?  Are we clinging to views we have held for decades without stopping to consider whether they may need a refresh?  How open are we to changing our minds? 

In addition to Adam Grant’s incredible work, I have been working my way through Tyson Yunkaporta’s  brilliant book ‘Sandtalk : how Indigenous thinking can save the world’ (2019)   This stunning and challenging book has again helped me think more deeply about the nature of knowledge and ways of knowing as it eloquently blasts through the dominant paradigm of classification, linearity and binary thinking in favour of connectedness, flow and diversity.  He argues for new ways of being drawing on indigenous ways of thinking that  can prevent us from “clustering into narcissistic flashmobs” 

“You must allow yourself to be transformed through your interaction with other agents and the knowledge that passes through you from them.”

 Both Grant and Yunkaporta’s work is exactly what I need to read right now.  

This is the true spirit of inquiry. The beautiful, spiralling, complex path that we travel as we inquire is enriched by a willingness to be challenged and changed.  This requires an openness to be transformed  even in the smallest way, by the encounters we have as we inquire. Ron Ritchhart’s elegant thinking routine ‘I used to think but now I think’ captures this spirit well.  Inquiry is not about getting to the right answer. Inquiry is about staying open to possibility, being comfortable with uncertainty, being prepared to arrive at an unexpected destination. Inquiry is a life-long preparedness to change our minds, to listen to those whose ways of seeing, thinking and feeling are very different to our own and to remain curious, open-minded and open-hearted as we encounter even the most challenging perspectives. . 

 And how can we possibly support our young learners to be true inquirers if we ourselves are incapable of meeting the ‘other’ with an open mind?  Surely they need to hear the adults in their world say things like “I have changed my mind about that”,  “Oh – they think so differently to me, I wonder what I can learn from them?”  “I wonder what thinking we might have in common?”  The capacity to nurture inclusive, open, respectful, curiosity-driven dialogue in our students begins with cultivating it in ourselves as educators. In the staffroom, around the planning table, and of course on social media. It’s really not that hard to ‘put down your clever’  (as Viv Mcwaters and Johnnie Moore say) and, instead, pick up your curiosity. 

Perhaps one of the most compelling reasons for bringing a stronger inquiry stance to our practice is that it nurtures a way of being that resists binary, oppositional and narrow ways of thinking.  Let’s all work to bring this experience into the journeys of inquiry we design with and for our learners. Let’s ensure that multiple ways of thinking about concepts are included, and that we help our young learners to develop the ‘confident humility’ championed by Adam Grant that might move us closer to the field beyond. Let’s keep building our repertoire of questions that invite a curious disposition when we encounter views different to our own and let’s help kids learn to use these questions with a curious rather than interrogative tone, for example: 

That’s interesting. Can you tell me more about that?

Can you help me understand what you mean?

What makes you say that?

I wonder how our ideas might connect? 

Can you share some examples of what you mean? 

I can see this is something you feel really passionate about- can you explain why? 

In Zen practice there is a well-known concept called ‘the beginner’s mind’ which aligns with the idea of an inquiry stance.  The beginner’s mind is curious and open – withholding judgement and expectations - seeking to understand something as if for the first time. Even the most experienced of educators can benefit from employing the beginner’s mind as a potential path to the field beyond. 

 How do you manage polarised, conflicting ideas in your school community?

Do your students see inquiry as a process of evolving and changing thinking?

Have you renovated your thinking lately?

Just wondering…

Getting personal with teacher inquiry: one school's approach.

Over many years of working with inquiry-based approaches in schools, I have relished the opportunity to explore ways to extend the approach to the teachers themselves. When I became particularly interested in personal inquiry for children around a decade ago, I gradually widened my focus to explore the potential of personalised, professional inquiry for staff.  I continue to see this as a really valuable way not only to build teacher capacity but to strengthen everyone’s understanding of what it means to bring an inquiry stance to our work.

Professional, personal inquiries are ultimately not only about discovering but about transforming both the teacher and the learners in their care.  This concept is not new. The idea of teacher inquiry is, for example, strongly embedded in school throughout NZ where it connects to the cycle of action research.  Other ‘situated professional learning’ approaches have been around throughout my teaching career and well before that. There is an enormous body of research on teacher inquiry - this blog post (already too long!) is not the place to explore it. I will simply share one more recent voice from the field whose work I have been reading lately. UK based researcher and head teacher Dr Kulvarn Atwal writes:

“My research found that teacher engagement (in their own learning) is dependent on how well the activities are personalised to their own and their children’s needs…when teachers engage in professional learning they don’t see as relevant to their needs, they rarely persevere...The informal aspect of this teacher choice is that we develop practitioners who are self-motivated, independent learners… They are not engaged in professional learning that is done ‘to’ them they are driving their own learning, eager to continually improve.”  (2019: 32-34)

 I have been fortunate to have partnered with Bonython School in Canberra for several years now. It has been wonderful to watch the careful and thoughtful way the leadership team and the staff as a whole have worked on growing a culture of Inquiry from the ground up.  As is the case for several schools I work with, one feature of their work is the expectation that educators will engage in their own inquiry journeys throughout the year.  I invited deputies Marc Warwick and Amanda Hawkins to chat to me about their approach, late last year and share some key moments from our conversation including some teacher reflections here.

Kath (K)  So, what exactly ARE ‘educator inquiries’ at Bonython Primary School ?

We have both come from other settings that introduced us to the idea of professional learning through engaging teachers as inquirers.  At Bonython, we expanded this idea to include all educators  - including all of our support staff so we are careful to describe these ‘educator inquiries’ rather than just the teachers.   Basically, it means that each adult in our learning community commits to an investigation of their choice, exploring a professional interest, passion or area of need. They are usually linked to the work they are currently doing with students but not necessarily . They select a focus early in the year and work on it across the year with a celebration and sharing at the end. 

 What were some of the questions your educators explored through the year? 

 There was such a range!  But some examples are: 

•  How can learning in the outdoors grow students capacity to think creatively to come up with new ideas and solve problems?

•  How can I get to know how autism presents in the students I teach, and how can I get to know them as individuals to find out how they learn best?

•  As an Inquiry School, to what extent is our approach to using split-screen teaching achieving what we want with our student learners?

• How can I develop my understanding of the Inquiry process through play? 

• What is anxiety, what does it look/feel like and how can I best support someone experiencing it? How can we create a safe, supportive and positive environment for our rainbow community?

K. Why have you taken this approach at Bonython?  

The most important aspect of this is that the process allows our educators to develop their inquiry mindset by explicitly practising what it means to be an inquirer.  And we want a strong inquiry mindset throughout our community.  We really want to position the ‘grown ups’ as inquirers which means they can relate to and empathise with the experiences of our younger learners across the school as they engage in this kind of learning.    We feel that everything we do with our teaching team should mirror what we are asking them to do with our students.  We are trying to build that cultural marker you have written about: that ‘professional learning itself should be inquiry based’. 

K.This is quite an undertaking for staff. How have you managed to get ‘buy in?’

When we first started,  some people were reluctant and fearful. Especially the support staff who are not ordinarily asked to work  in this way.  But they are actually our real success story. In their enterprise agreement there is an expectation that they will do some professional learning. So we have said, ‘well, the way we do this is through inquiry’. Some of them had not had great experience in their own schooling and many were worried about having to ‘present.’  We really had to give a lot of support. We had to say ‘We are going to do this, but we hear you are uncomfortable, we hear your concerns  and we will accommodate them.  

 When we had our celebration at the end of the year one of the people who had been reluctant came and gave us a hug and said that we had ‘kept our word’ – that the experience was great and she was eager for her next inquiry. She was the first person to take the new LSA’s under her wing this year and say ‘this is great. Now the experiences LSA’s are supporting the new ones.  We  also brought people in from our previous school (Macquarie PS) to share their stories.  One of those teachers  asked: “What would you do if you weren’t afraid’ . That really resonated with people. 

 K. I would say another reason why you have people on board is that you had already built a strong inquiry culture prior to introducing the professional inquiries. My impression is that people felt excited about the direction you were heading in, they trusted the leadership, liked each other and liked working at the school.  ALL that helps with people’s willingness to go with something new. 

 That’s true. Marc and Greg (principal) had been working on building that culture two years before I (Amanda) came here so it was a great foundation to build on. We started with building the capacity of our young learners to inquire and then moved to strengthening our educators identity as inquirers as well.

K.    So, you say educators choose something to investigate that they are interested in. Are there any criteria? Does it, for example, have to connect with your strategic plan or school vision? 

Not really - We give people full choice. We want them to feel empowered. It is interesting when you do that - key themes emerge that actually connect to a lot of our priorities anyway.  Themes like wellbeing, trauma, Aboriginal perspectives , play and literacy. 

One thing we do is that once everyone has chosen their focus we invite them to consider the relationship between these and your 10 pedagogical practices.   Then they form what we call CICs – ‘Connected Inquiry Communities’   - the practices help link people’s interests. The interests have to come first. The teachers have to have agency in all this.

 K.As a vehicle for professional learning, this is entirely driven by and within the school itself. And it requires a commitment to time.  How have you managed that?

We dedicate regular staff sessions to this.  The bare minimum is 2 staff meetings per term where they all reflect on what they are doing and what they are noticing and work with their CIC group.  Because it is personal, people will also negotiate times to attend seminars or workshops elsewhere that might connects with their inquiry. We also provide time and  encourage them to visit other school so teachers are talking to other teachers with similar interests or expertise in the area they are interested in.  We really want to broaden this and have more teachers talking to other teachers in other schools as a way of supporting the inquiry process. 

K. Of course, the success of any professional learning should ultimately be gauged according to the impact on the children’s learning. Have you explored this? 

 Several of the inquiries involve the children directly – teachers (and kids) are gathering data and the whole thing is very transparent and immediate.  In some classrooms, the teachers make their own inquiries really visible to the kids and gather and reflect on the data through the year. One of our educators last year was inquiring into the relationship between our school values and her use of picture books in the classroom to increase students understanding of them. She really involved the children in this exploration – they were aware of what she was investigating.   Another one of our early career educators was working on an inquiry into the teaching of writing. The kids knew this and she was asking them about what they were noticing about whether they were improving as writers. The way those children could talk about themselves as writers really showed the impact of her research into this field.  Other inquiries are less directly involving of the learners – rather more an investigation into something that then becomes the basis for new approaches or refinements to practices later on.

K. Judy Halbert and Linda Kaser, Canadian colleagues with whom I have had the delight of connecting in recent times, are champions of teacher inquiry. There work has a slightly different location/purpose but is still broadly connected to this idea of teachers as inquirers. Their ‘Spirals of Inquiry’ model, developed with NZ’s Helen Timperly is well worth exploring and I think would add a lovely layer to the work you have begun here  - perhaps by bumping up the interesting question of impact? Their pivotal questions might be of value to your work too:  What is going on for our learners? How do we know? Why does it matter? (from Halbert and Kaser 2017 The Spiral of Inquiry Playbook)  

 Anyway…,  I was so delighted (and jealous) to see the photos of your celebration of professional learning  at the end of the year (2020).  You took the staff to Birrigai (In Tidbinbilla). Tell me more about that. 

 We believe that getting off site is really important. It helps us get away from our ‘to do’ list, gives us fresh perspective and gets us focussed. Last year we started at Art centre and finished at the Art centre – this year it was Birrigai.  Birrigai is a really special place for us as a school. We know when we are there something special happens. The name Birrigai means ‘the place of laughter’  I tell you, when you are there you feel that. We have taken all the kids there this year. This also connects to our Cultural Integrity work which focusses so much on connection to place AND the other thing we have often spoken about with you – the way the environment nurtures curiosity and is such a natural home for inquiry.  We try to get outside – even for staff meetings and it just changes the whole atmosphere. 

To conclude the Educator Inquiry Journeys in 2020, we asked the staff to bring artefacts to Birrigai that would help tell the story of their inquiry.   They each spent some time alone in this to curate a small ‘exhibit’ in this amazing outdoor space. The staff then spent time quietly walking around this exhibition and learning from each other.  It was so creative!  One of our LSA’s had inquired into anxiety and she created an exhibit in a thistlebush – prickly and challenging.   This whole idea of curation is, we believe, really important to the mindset.   The experience was about connecting, curating and contemplating. We walked amongst the artefacts of people’s learning and made connections then walked down the hill to a final celebration. The experience was also connected to the work we have been doing on cultural Integrity -which focusses so much on connection to place AND the other thing we have often spoken about with you – the way the environment nurtures curiosity and is such a natural home for inquiry.  We try to get outside, even for staff meetings, and it just changes the whole atmosphere. '

 It sounds really beautiful – and such a powerful way to promote reflection. I love that you have used that word ‘contemplation’… we have SO little time to contemplate in schools and surely the work we do would benefit from more of it! 

 Thinking ahead – what’s in store for 2021? What have you learned this year that you would tweak or change for 2021?  

I think we have created a rod for our own backs! We have created beautiful experiences for the last 2 years so, now, how do we sustain that?! How do we keep it fresh? The core won’t change. Each educator will have a question, go through a cycle of inquiry and conclude with some form of sharing – none of that will change. We have started to dabble with the focus on the Future of Education which the department here is talking about and that might help anchor our questions.   We are not sure…

One thing that we think could be extended is the opportunity for teachers to share their work with a wider audience.  We already have a relationship with the University of Canberra and there would be some teachers who could take their work to a conference or write for a journal which would be a wonderful way to take it further.   We have played with the idea of inviting other schools to hear our stories but that would be a second share time. It’s so valuable to have that safe, vulnerable space to share as a staff first. It would be interesting to see how that would impact on them.   The staff have also suggested we could make the final sharing something that happened over a longer time frame – a week of sharing perhaps. 

K:  Like a festival of personal inquiry -you could have kids sharing some of their inquiries too? And maybe even have the kids see the teachers’ artefacts?  (at this point we all get a little excited about this idea…)  So, If a school wanted to explore this idea – what would be your most important piece of advice? 

 If you are already using an inquiry-based approach with your students then dive in!  Just DO it. And remind people that this is what we have said is good for learning in our classrooms – and it’s good for OUR learning too.  And know your people. We have worked really hard on culture building by establishing strong relationships with individuals.  We try to take the time to inquire into our people and build those relationships. We try to really listen to them and modify what we do in response.  I also think sometimes this kind of work can be overcooked, over complicated and made more complex than it needs to be.  When I talk to other schools about their approaches, It can just seem too much. I think this is about learning, as leaders,  to release, keep it simple , trust your staff and personalise it for each staff member. 

Some teacher reflections:

The challenges that I/we have faced through our inquiries have required us to become more flexible and demonstrate increased levels of grit. This is something we encourage students to do each day and as they delve into inquiries, but don't necessarily experience ourselves.

We need to tap into students passions and provide them with opportunities to explore them, following a range of different pathways.

 I feel that Educator Inquiry continues to develop my empathy of how kids feel each and every day and the strategies and supports I can put in place to help support them as they work through the inquiry cycle, particularly in things like iTime.

I like the agency we are offered, to choose professional learning that is right for us. This is particularly helpful as a new educator as the things I would like to learn are not the same as those further along in their career. 

What will we build? An inquiry into culture building inspired by Oliver Jeffers.

AS I write, teachers around my home country of Australia are preparing to begin the school year. Others are returning after their winter break or perhaps after a prolonged period of remote learning. Regardless of the reason, returning to school is an opportunity to ‘reboot’ and refresh - to ask ourselves and our students important questions about the kind of learners we want to be and the kind of learning community we want to build. 

 ‘Building’, ‘constructing’, ‘growing’, ‘creating’ … these are all words that align beautifully with the ethos of inquiry.   As inquirers, we value the process as much as the content or product we might be working towards. As inquiry teachers we see learning as a process of construction, building on prior learning through investigation, analysis and reflection  And we relish that building process in collaboration with our students.  

 So, as we begin the new school year or return after a break, we might ask ourselves and our students ‘What will we build together?’ 

 When I came across Oliver Jeffer’s new book ”What We’ll Build” late last year, I was immediately captivated by it as an allegory for the collaborative journeys of inquiry we take with our students.  It is a book about parenting – a loving letter to Jeffer’s daughter and has all of his wonderful hallmarks – gentle prose, symbolism, glorious illustrations, humour and big ideas.  

As a full-time classroom teacher, I ALWAYS made sure that on our first day together, we connected through at least one really sensational book.  I know of no better way than to commune with children than through powerful literature. If I were starting the year now, I think this is the book I would choose.  Revisiting it yesterday, I imagined the questions it might prompt me to ask myself, my team and my kids. I imagined how it might help us “make plans for our future together”. I imagined , perhaps returning to the book each day. Page by page, question by question. 

 Because that is the way classroom culture is built. Word by word, action by action, minute by minute , day by day.  As teachers, we are culture builders. And this culture determines the way our children come to see themselves as learners and how they see learning itself. If we truly want to build a culture that nurtures curiosity, agency, courage and compassion – we have some important questions to explore from day one. And this beautiful book might help you get the ball rolling. Here are the questions I played with, in response to the text… 

What shall we build, you and I? 

 Take time to ask your learners what they hope and indeed IMAGINE their classroom community will look and feel like. How might the physical space be arranged? What kind of space will support learning? What kind of relationships do students hope to have with each other? With their teachers? What is your vision for your team?  How will you build a wonderful, collaborative team this year? 

Let’s gather all our tools for a start

 What skills and disposition will help us learn together?  What is already in our toolkit as learners? Do we have the tools to manage ourselves, communicate, collaborate, think and be awesome researchers?  What do effective learners DO? What dispositions or attitudes can we cultivate? Do we have the language to talk about these tools for learning? 

 For putting together – and taking apart

How will we help ourselves stay resilient and strong?  How will we view mistakes and failures?  Are we willing to take things apart and start again?  What might we want to ‘take apart’ from the past and put back together in new ways? What might we let go of this year? What needs to change? 

Let’s build a door where there was none

We’ll build a house to be our home

 How might we create a safe and supportive community where we ALL feel we belong?  This is more than a classroom or a school – this is a community. How can we make this a truly inclusive place where each person feels seen? 

I’ll build your future and you will build mine

 What can we offer each other? What are your goals as learners? What are my goals as a teacher? What gifts can we give each other? How can we help each other grow? 

We’ll build a watch to keep our time

 What might our days look like? How can we co construct a routine or timetable to allow for flexibility as well as predictability and routine?  How will we document our journey together? 

We’ll build some love to set aside 

And build a hole where we can hide

 And what about those times when we need to be alone? Is there a space in our classroom that we can go to when we need time with ourselves? What might that look like?  How can we ensure we all get that time out when we need it? 

A fortress to keep our enemies out

And higher walls for when they shout

But you don’t always lose and you don’t always win

So we’ll build a gate to late them in

We’ll build a table to drink our tea and say

“I’m sorry,” “me two”, “me three”

 Conflict is an inevitable part of living and learning with others. We need to be OK with our differences and we know that will help us learn and grow. How might we manage conflict? What do we consider to be our rights and our responsibilities in this learning space? What agreements can we draft to help us learn together? How might this extend to our teaching teams? We need vigorous debate and different perspectives? How will we both ensure and manage that? How can we stay open to new ideas?  Different voices? 

We’ll build a tower to watch the sky

And other worlds to pass us by

 How will we stay connected with what is going on in the world? How can we connect with people and ;places beyond our school? Can we make more use of the outdoors this year?  How will we record and share our wonderings and be relentlessly curious about the world? Let’s make this a place where curiosity is welcome!

Let’s build a tunnel to anywhere

Let’s build a road up to the moon

Let’s imagine where we want to be at the end of this week, this term, this year. What are our goals? How might we help ourselves get there?  How will we stretch and challenge ourselves as learners? 

Let’s build a comfy place to rest

For we’ll be tired soon.

 Rushed, frantic classrooms do not make good learning environments. How will we help ourselves slow down and take more time to notice ourselves and our learning? How will we pay more attention to what’s going on and be more present in our day? What routines will we create to ensure we regularly reflect on what we are learning, doing and feeling? 

Let’s build a boat that can’t be broken

That will not sink, or be cracked open?

 What do we really believe about learning? What do we understand about how we learn?  What are the foundations of this classroom community? What are the things we can all agree are important? What do we value? 

A place to stay when all is lost

To keep the things we love the most

We’ll put these favourite things beside

The earlier love we set aside

 How will we ensure that school is a place where our true passions (as teachers and learners)  and interests are nurtured?  How will we introduce new possibilities and ensure we widen our horizons? What do we want to learn more about? What do we want to learn to make, do and be? 

I think that we might want them later 

When times are hard and needs are greater

 And will the learning that happens this year be the kind of learning that travels with us for life?  What do our students think is important for them to learn? How can we close the gap between school and the world beyond school? 

But first things first, let’s build a fire

For we’ve planned a lot and now we’re tired

It’ll keep us warm like when we’re born

Then we’ll say good night , as all’s all right

 Where will our ‘campfire’ be? Do we have a gathering place? Would rituals and routines might we develop as a class to bring a gentle, connecting rhythm to our days? 

These are the things we will build, you and I

What does it mean to be in true partnership with each other, with learners and with families? 

What will we build? 

Beyond the power of this text to stimulate thinking about building classroom community, this text is about hope and about agency. The agency we all have to  onsciously and thoughtfully build our future together. 

“What We’ll Build” is available here

A trailer for the story is here

You can find out more about the inspiration for this book here

 So….

 What (and how) will YOU build with your students as you create a culture of and for inquiry?

Just wondering…

When the Machine Starts Up Again, will you remember?

As some of you might know if we have worked together, I am as passionate about music as I am about teaching.  When I was full time in the classroom, I used music to punctuate the day, signal it was pack up time, bring the mood up or calm it down. I wasn’t great with discipline or ‘classroom management’ so singing was the best way I knew to bring a fractious group together, to move on from a challenging moment, celebrate successes and build a sense of community.  Music remains such an incredibly important part of my life and I have been struck by the way so many musicians have used their art to make sense of the experience of lockdown. There has been some extraordinary work produced in this time. Like all the arts, music is a way to both make and express meaning - and ‘making meaning’ during 2020 has been a challenge and a gift.  

 One song in particular caught my attention recently. Missy Higgins is a well known singer songwriter here in Australia. She recently released a song “When the Machine Starts”. You can listen or watch here.  As my home town of Melbourne emerges from lockdown and months of remote teaching, we join the rest of the country in returning to school albeit in a “covid-normal” way.  Listening to Missy’s song conjured up an image in my mind of the ‘machine’ that can be our schools. It reminded me of the Leunig cartoon below:

Retrieved from: https://www.leunig.com.au/works/recent-cartoons/475-school

For a period of time, some (not all, I know) learners and teachers have felt they have had a reprieve from what Huberman once described as ‘the classroom press’: the machine. 

In her song, Missy pleads, “When the Machine starts will you remind me? I saw the truth once…Please don’t let me forget.”  It got me wondering about those lessons we all felt we had learned during lockdown and remote teaching. What have we done with the gold we mined from our experience of remote learning? What did we promise ourselves we would relinquish, restore and renew on return?   I have had SO many conversations about these things, and they include:

• More choice for learners

• More opportunities for learners to plan aspects of their day

• Smaller, more focussed teaching groups

• Stronger connections with families and home life

• More ongoing reporting through seesaw and other digital platforms

• More team work – genuine collaboration with colleagues

• More trust in our learners. Get out of their way! 

• More use of digital technologies to enhance creative collaboration and sharing of learning

• A slower more thoughtful pace

  Many teachers returned to school exhausted by the remote teaching experience BUT also committed to taking what they had discovered back to the classroom – determined to do things differently.  So now, I am wondering….did we?  Are we? Will we?  What’s changed?  Have we had the courage to resist the inevitable spinning of the wheels, the acceleration of speed, the frenzied, fragmented rush that is the anti-learning pace of so many classrooms?   

  I am not saying that the remote experience was preferable for teaching – far from it. BUT it did offer us some lessons we were determined to remember.  It revealed to many of us some new truths about ourselves, our children, our families – about what it means to teach and what it means to learn.   For some of us it was simply an intense reminder of all that is good and beautiful about meeting with young people face to face on a day to day basis and that we would never take those beautiful faces for granted again! For others it opened new doors to thinking about how we can design for more powerful learning.  Regardless of the lessons we learned, how can we help ourselves remember -  when the machine starts up again?

When the machine starts up again
Will I forget what it’s like to be standing here looking up, drinking in the sky?

When the machine starts
Will you remind me
I saw the truth once
I saw it floating in the air

• Oh, don’t let me forget
  Don’t let me forget
  Don’t let me forget

  When the machine starts up again
  When the machine starts up again
  When the lockdown ends
  And the speed is picking up
  Will you remind me, darling
  What it felt like just to stop

• Lyrics By Missy Higgins, 2020. Missy Higgins - 'When The Machine Starts' Stream / Download: https://MissyHiggins.lnk.to/TheMachineID

The art of inquiry teaching ... from a distance, part #2

Today marks five weeks we have spent in stage 4 lockdown here in Melbourne, Australia. Prior to that, we were in stage 3 for weeks. So time actually IN schools is indeed becoming a distant memory!  I remain incredibly grateful to the many educators who have been willing to continue our work together in the remote context.  As I have said before, this has been the steepest of learning curves and I – like so many others – am still on it.   For years I have banged on about inquiry classrooms being places where teachers and learners learn to live with uncertainty, where we need to expect the unexpected and where we plan in response to what is needed. Never have those features of an inquiry-based environment been more relevant. (Although, to be honest, a little bit of certainty would be more than welcome right now!!)

A month ago, I posed a question on this blog. When working remotely, how can we continue to work in the dynamic, interactive ways of the inquiry teacher?  In the weeks since, it has been fascinating to explore this question with teachers and students alike. It has meant a lot of reflection, experimentation and risk taking. My inquiry muscles have most definitely been getting a work out.  

 In my last post, I explored the way I felt the pedagogy of inquiry’ could transfer to the remote setting by considering five of the 10 inquiry practices I have found useful when working with teachers and learners.  In this post I continue that conversation by examining the remaining five. As always, I am indebted to the teachers with whom I have been working – particularly those in my partner schools who help me think more deeply and creatively about what’s possible.  So, how can we continue to bring an inquiry stance to our work – even when we can’t physically be with our students? 

Keep it real: Inquiry teachers harness real contexts for learning

There is no doubt that when learners are engaged in inquiring into something they care about – something that is real and relevant to their lives, they are more invested and committed to the process.  Time and time again, teachers and kids tell me that the journeys of inquiry that have stayed with them have been the ones where they felt they made a difference. – and where they were connected with real people, real places, real issues.  

On the surface, this is a huge challenge for remote teaching. Gone are those field trips that instantly motivate and engage the learner, gone are the hands-on materials, the guest speakers, the spontaneous walk around the neighborhood….  Well, yes. For some learners this has been the case. Not withstanding the fact there are still some schools and communities that do not have sufficient access to decent wifi/internet, I have been dismayed by the stories I hear from friends about their children being issued with endless worksheets and cute ‘activities’ without ever engaging with teachers through video conferencing (especially when the option to do so exists) or even a simple phone call.  By contrast, I am seeing and hearing many wonderfully authentic inquiries happening while in lockdown. Field trips still happen – albeit virtually and there have been expert guests in abundance!   Students at St Bernadette’s primary School in the western suburbs of Melbourne have forged connections with several designers/makers who have been designing and constructing facemasks. The designers have shared their processes and the children are now using what they have learned to consider a design challenge in their household or neighborhood.   As part of their iTime, students at Mother Teresa Primary school have been investigating a wide range of authentic projects from how to set up a frog enclosure when back at school to investigating coping mechanisms for remote learning across the world.  Journeys of inquiry need purpose and passion.  It is even more imperative that we help our learners see the worth of what they are inquiring into. So, keep it real:

•  Encourage kids to find everyday problems, challenges and issues in their household or neighborhood about which they could inquire.  You may be inspired by some of the suggestions made here. 

• Use the house, yard and local streets as the basis for learning. Shameless plug for my resource about  cultivating curiosity in the garden and home available here.

• Virtual field trips can add a wonderful dimension to your inquiries. There are LOADS of these available – and you can go global in ways you never have before. There are a few examples here but a simple search will reveal more.  

• I am a fan of the naturecam!  Checking in on the progress of various animals around the world is in itself a beautiful ongoing inquiry. 

• Be authentic – share your own inquiries – what have you been exploring or teaching yourself while in isolation?  Share your own learning journeys with your students.

Play: Inquiry teachers know the power of play

 When we think of play – we often associate it with something light- and even frivolous. And it certainly can be (nothing wrong with that!).  Throughout the last 6 months I have noticed how much being able to play with possibilities, play with ideas, experiment and tinker has helped me learn. So as you engage students in remote learning:  

• Allow yourself to play with possibilities as you explore the online environment with and for your learners. This means being prepared to fail!  I have had to let go of my tendency to want to get it right before I try something new online and to dive in.  Such important modelling for our learners.

• Play is a powerful community builder.   So playing games together as you meet in the virtual space is hugely connecting. Those of you beginning your year will be acutely aware of this. The morning and end of day meetings can be the perfect opportunity to explore ways to take favorite classroom games and adapt them to the online space.

• Be bold and don’t forget the power of the unexpected, playful moment.  A friend of mine had a sudden ‘glitch’ with technology during a lesson last week. She needed a minute or two to try to fix it. Instead of having her students stare at her on the screen while she did so she said “OK guys, out of your seats, run to your front door run back, run around your chair three times then sit down. First one back wins!  A silly, spontaneous moment that had them all laughing …and gave her a minute to sort her tech issue. 

•  USE MATERIALS.  Just because you are working online does not mean you or your students can’t get your hands on materials.  Invite children to share their thinking by making and creating using household items.  

• Be playful. Humour is one of the most powerful ways we have to diffuse tension, build connections and help learners to relax into a space in which they are ready to learn. 

Collaborate: Inquiry teachers value collaboration between learners and regularly collaborate with other educators. 

 Many schools are ensuring that our precious team meetings remain part of our weekly schedule even when working remotely.  Teachers have reported to me that they feel collaboration has strengthened in response to the situation. So it may go without saying – but stay connected to each other! 

It has been amazing to watch teachers and students forging connections with others in the community albeit within the virtual space.  Perhaps as we become more comfortable with using online meeting tools, we ae realising the ease with which we can, in fact, collaborate with someone on the other side of the world!  

• In an inquiry journey, we can act as ‘brokers’ helping learners connect with experts in the areas they are inquiring into.  Use this opportunity to collaborate with experts online. Authors, historians, biologists, artists, musicians – inviting them to share their passions with your students is only a click away.  

• Collaboration is also about teachers collaborating with learners to co construct agreements, assessment criteria and the design of tasks. This can continue to be the case even when we are physically apart. Remind yourself to ask rather than tell when it comes to learning agreements.

Think Big:  Inquiry teachers design and teach with concepts in mind.  

Teaching remotely brings with it the temptation to parcel learning tasks up into neat, bite sized activities. The abundance of ‘choice grids’ so popular in the 90’s is a case in point.  Of course we want to find ways to allow learners to make choices and manage their time more independently but the down side of activity grids is that they can simply be that – a  bunch of things kids DO rather than a connected flow of tasks that promote deeper learning.   

As we design learning tasks with and for our students, let’s keep concepts in mind and resist the urge to provide what amounts to ‘busy work’.  It makes sense to consider the concepts that are particularly relevant to this time. The context of living in a time of a pandemic can help us explore wellbeing, interdependence, freedom and responsibility, equity, community, empathy, global citizenship, rights and responsibilities, perspective, media influence and ethics just to name a few!   

We are living in a time that necessitates big picture thinking. The very concept of ‘schooling’ itself is being closely examined as our historically ridged institutions are being faced with this massive challenge.   Ask your students what they think are the big ideas they should be exploring right now.

Grow learning assets: Inquiry teachers help learners develop skills and dispositions for life long learning.

If there is one thing that this situation has offered us, it has been the chance to put learning itself in the spotlight.  Whatever language you use to talk about learning with your students – make sure it is amplified when working remotely. For IB/PYP teachers, it will be the profile attributes and the approaches to learning. Others may use Art Costa’s Habits of Mind or Guy Claxton’s Learning Powers.  For me it is what I call the Learning Assets to be more successful as learners. 

• Ask your learners to reflect on the similarities and differences they are experiencing when they experience remote learning vs classroom learning. What skills and dispositions are they finding they need to draw on more?

•  Continue to share intentions for learning using the ‘split screen’ metaphor where we identify not just what we are learning about but HOW the learning us being done – how we are building learning muscle as we learn

•  Notice and name the skills and dispositions your learners are demonstrating in your observations and feedback. This is not simply about completing assigned tasks – this is about growing ourselves as learners.

•  Invite learners to talk about what they are noticing about learning itself  - what challenges are they experiencing in this contexts? Is anything working better for them as learners?  

• And, as always, BE the learner you want to see!  Be open and vulnerable. Talk about the skills and dispositions you are needing to draw on as you teach in this new environment. Share your reflections on yourself as a learner with your students.  

 My heart goes out to all those teachers beginning the year – some in new countries, new roles and with new students and so many without actually being in the same space as their students! Teaching is such a relational profession – and being so disconnected is anathema to the way we love to interact with our kids. But we are all surprising ourselves with what is possible and this experience can help us understand even more deeply that inquiry is not a subject. Inquiry is not just ‘the unit’. More than ever before, inquiry is a stance – a way of being that most definitely helps sustain our positivity, our growth and our learning amidst a sea of uncertainty. have

How are YOU sustaining the art of inquiry teaching as you engage children in remote learning?

Just wondering…