Discover how project-based learning helps multilingual students shine by creating hands-on experiences that facilitate language-learning opportunities.

Meeting the needs of multilingual learners (MLLs) in classrooms filled with students from diverse linguistic and cultural backgrounds requires innovative and inclusive approaches. Project-based learning (PBL) is an instructional framework that supports language acquisition and provides ongoing feedback on their progress. By engaging students in real-world, inquiry-driven projects, PBL allows MLLs at various levels of language proficiency to demonstrate an understanding of their knowledge in ways that traditional assessments often cannot capture.

Language acquisition is complex and multifaceted, particularly for those learning a second language (L2) — unlike first language (L1) learners, who typically acquire first languages in a nurturing environment, MLLs often face challenges that hinder their educational progress. These challenges encompass sentiments of isolation, cultural transitions, and disparate timelines for language acquisition. Recognizing these factors is essential in creating a supportive learning environment that fosters growth.

Project-based learning is a dynamic teaching method that encourages students to learn and apply knowledge and skills through engaging projects. Its emphasis on inquiry, collaboration, and real-world relevance, makes it an effective formative assessment and ideal experience for multilingual learners.

​PBL leverages students' interests by allowing them to explore real-world problems or challenges. This authentic engagement particularly benefits MLLs, who can connect their learning to their lived experiences and communities. Engaging in initiatives of personal significance enhances students' motivation, facilitates their access to language and unfamiliar content, and fosters sustained investment in their learning journey. This, in turn, promotes a deeper level of comprehension and retention of language skills.
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​Project-based learning naturally integrates all four language modalities: listening, speaking, reading, and writing. MLLs can enhance their language proficiency in context, moving beyond rote memorization to meaningful communication. For example, when working on a group project, students may collaborate to develop a presentation, allowing them to practice speaking and listening. They may also participate in reading and writing tasks as they research information and document their findings. This holistic approach accommodates students at various proficiency levels, enabling them to demonstrate their learning through different forms of expression.
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​PBL encourages collaboration among students, which is particularly advantageous for MLLs. Working in structured groups allows students to practice language in authentic, low-pressure situations. Peer-to-peer interactions allow MLLs to observe and mimic language patterns (local colloquial speech), expand their vocabulary, and refine their understanding of sentence structures in the new language. These interactions are vital for language acquisition, as they mirror the natural process of learning through communication.

​Furthermore, well-facilitated group work allows for role differentiation. For example, students who possess more proficiency in conducting research in their native language can collect information and subsequently translate essential points. Conversely, other students possessing more robust verbal skills can share the results of their work with the entire class. Also, students collaborating on a project concerning ecosystems may engage in developing visual infographics or constructing models, contingent upon their respective levels of language proficiency. This collaborative dynamic enhances linguistic competencies and cultivates a sense of belonging and mutual respect among diverse learners.
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​One of the main benefits of PBL is its flexibility in assessment. Conventional assessments often emphasize written or oral language output or production, which may result in overlooking multilingual learners' comprehension of content and their overall understanding. PBL, on the other hand, permits students to demonstrate their knowledge holistically. For example, a scientific assignment focused on renewable energy may necessitate that students conduct research, compose a report, develop a model, and present their conclusions. Each component provides students various opportunities to demonstrate their comprehension in diverse manners, offering a more holistic representation of their learning. This multifaceted approach to assessment allows students of differing proficiency levels to exhibit their knowledge in manners that align with their strengths. For example, a student may demonstrate their understanding through a visual project, a video presentation, or a PowerPoint deck rather than exclusively depending on their writing skills.
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​Implementing PBL provides ample opportunities for scaffolding and contextualizing language, a crucial element for supporting MLLs. For MLLs, language acquisition is most effective when tied to clear, meaningful contexts. PBL naturally integrates visuals, hands-on activities, and real-world applications, which make abstract language and concepts more accessible. This targeted support enables students to focus on content rather than get overwhelmed by language barriers.

​Teachers can design projects with built-in scaffolds, such as graphic organizers and sentence frames, and bilingual resources, such as dictionaries or thesauri, to assist students in expressing their ideas. For example, a history project on the civil rights movement might include timelines, photographs, and videos alongside primary source texts. These multimodal resources help MLLs understand content while building their academic language proficiency.
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Beyond language development, PBL cultivates critical thinking, problem-solving, and creativity — universally valuable skills in education and beyond. For MLLs, project-based learning bridges their prior knowledge, often rooted in their native language and cultural background, to new concepts they are learning in English. For instance, a student studying immigration policies might draw on personal or family experiences, enriching the project with unique perspectives while deepening their engagement with academic language. By valuing and incorporating students’ lived experiences, PBL accelerates language acquisition and validates their identities, creating a classroom environment where diversity is celebrated.
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​In conclusion, project-based learning is a valuable tool for supporting multilingual learners. It offers an inclusive, differentiated, and meaningful approach to instruction and assessment. By engaging students in collaborative, real-world projects, PBL creates opportunities for MLLs to demonstrate their understanding in ways that honor their strengths and respect their linguistic and cultural identities.

Reset your mind and reclaim your classroom with these quick and effective mindfulness techniques.

It’s sixth period. You didn’t get done nearly as much as you’d hoped during your planning period. In second period a student made a ruler helicopter (where did he even get that ruler from anyways?) and sent a pencil flying across the room and almost hit another student. Your fourth period went well, even if you did walk into that unfortunate pun. Lunch came and you snagged a few bites in between listening to your students tell you about who’s beefing with whom and why. Now your students have decided they’d prefer not to pay attention today and it feels like you’ve spent more time corralling than covering actual material. How are you going to get through the last few periods? 

If that sounds familiar, know that you aren’t alone.

Working with young people who are growing and changing is, by nature, overwhelming at times. Overwhelm is fought not by just ignoring it, nor by pushing it way down, but by rephrasing and reframing. Instead of fighting fire with fire, we can choose to focus on rooting and remaining in the present moment: Where am I right now? What is happening now? How is my body feeling right now? 
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Mindfulness techniques are easy and quick ways for us to refocus ourselves on our bodies and the present moment, giving a quick reboot to get through the last few periods — or honestly even the next five minutes. Not only are these useful for you, they can also be used for resetting a classroom as well! Here are four mindfulness exercises you can use to reset, both for yourself and your classroom. 

A great way of brushing off the past and rooting ourselves in the present moment is to make sensory lists. To-do lists help us with framing and breaking down tasks, grocery lists help us stick to only getting what we need, and sensory lists help us take stock of what is, right now.

The 5-4-3-2-1 technique is a set of lists that helps us remember where we are and what is right in front of us. First, take a moment to take in your surroundings. Name 5 things you can see — your stapler, a computer, coffee mug, etc; then, name 4 things you can feel — the AC/heat, your favorite socks, the hand sanitizer residue; 3 things you can hear — the bell, the students in the hall; 2 things you can smell — cleaning supplies, crayons; and 1 thing you can taste — the cold coffee in your mug. Be as descriptive as you can be.

You can write them down if you need to, but you can also just think and notice. The goal is to root yourself in your physical area and break the spin cycle of getting carried away with the day. 

Besides rooting ourselves in our physical location, we can break daily anxieties by centering ourselves back in our bodies. This is best done sitting down, though any comfortable position works.

​If you can, sit up straight with both feet on the floor and your hands in your lap, and close your eyes. Take a deep breath in, and out. Again, in… and out… continuing to breathe slowly, drawing your attention to your feet. What do they feel like right now? Wiggle your toes if you need to. When was the last time you did that? Slowly move your attention up your legs, your torso, your arms, your neck, and your head, tensing your muscles and relaxing, focusing on each part of your body as you go. End with a couple deep breaths before you open your eyes again.

​Sometimes our heads are spinning so much that we can only get out of them by, well, getting out of them. For this exercise, all you need is something to write with, be that a pen, a laptop, or whatever you have around your classroom.

​Set a timer for five minutes, then just write. Don’t judge. Don’t cross out. Don’t worry about doing it “right.” The point is to write down whatever is on your mind so that it gets out of your head and down on paper. You can expand this task as long as you like, but even just five minutes can do a world of wonders for your presence of mind.

Easily the most scientifically backed mindfulness technique, this is also one of the quickest and easiest to do, anywhere, at any time. By focusing in on our breathing, we can force our bodies to move from a neurological state of sympathetic (alert/on edge) to parasympathetic (normal activity, relaxed). It slows our heart rate and naturally helps us be in the moment by focusing only on our breathing. 
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Take a moment to focus on your body; you can close your eyes if it helps. Then, focus on taking a deep breath while counting to 5-7 (depending on ease/comfort). Try to breathe with your diaphragm — with your tummy, like babies breathe. Then hold that breath for 5 counts. Breathe out for 5. Repeat 2-3 times until you feel your body slowing down. This can be done in 30 seconds, or over several minutes.

All of these tools, both for yourself and your classroom, work best when they are built into your classroom routines and norms. If students are aware and expecting that they will be using or engaging with these tools, they will be much more open to taking them seriously. While there is no way to stop chaotic days from happening — unless you know of one, then please tell me! — these tools can help both you and your students calm down and, if nothing else, get to that final bell.

Effective support for multilingual learners ensures academic success while respecting their linguistic and cultural backgrounds.

​Differentiating instruction is not easy, but when done well, it promotes higher levels of learning and opportunities for multilingual learners to acquire a new language, feel like they belong, and achieve in our classes. It also allows us to demonstrate our superpower as educators — our ability to reach all students.

It’s also easier said than done. As classroom teachers, we receive a list of students and their labels: SWD (Student with a Disability) or ENL/MLL (English Language Learner/Multilingual Learner) — but labels tell us nothing about what our students know and can do. And not knowing can be our kryptonite. To meet the needs of all students, we need to push past the labels and invest in their potential. To do this, we must be able to recognize the stages of language development and how they correspond with students’ language fluency levels.

​No one learns a language overnight. In the chart below, we’ve illustrated the five stages of language development for multilingual learners and how these stages correspond with the New York State English as a Second Language Achievement Test, aka the NYSESLAT. Based on their performance on the NYSESLAT, students are categorized into levels from entering to commanding, as seen in this chart. Students’ levels are determined by their composite performance on all four subtests of this assessment (listening, speaking, reading, and writing).

Approx. time in level: 5 - 7 years
NYSESLAT Level: Commanding
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What students can do: 
Sometimes called Continued Language Development or former ENL stage, students at this stage can communicate fluently in most contexts. Students at this stage are comfortable and fluent, though they may sometimes incorrectly use idiomatic expressions. Students can:

• Access academic language across content areas with strategic support such as discipline-specific vocabulary (Tier 2 and 3 words) 
• Recognize gaps in cultural or background knowledge and actively seek clarification
• Transfer academic skills across languages
• Navigate subtle cultural nuances in social situations
• Engage in metacognitive discussions about their learning
• Utilize academic language to analyze complex topics, like discussing an author's use of metaphors
• Engage in higher-order thinking while sometimes needing support with advanced academic vocabulary
• Self-advocate for academic needs
• Participate in collaborative projects
• Code-switch appropriately between academic and social language with the ability to appropriately adjust based on audience

​​Students at each stage need a different level of support when learning a new language. This is because students learning a new language are also facing a host of other complex social, emotional, linguistic, and cognitive challenges. Especially in middle and high school, where a sense of belonging is critical to identity formation, multilingual learners face an unfamiliar language, along with significant shifts in culture and community. This can feel destabilizing, increasing a sense of distance, difference, and isolation.

It’s not all bad news, though. When learning a new language, the sounds and symbols used sometimes connect to the primary language, initially resulting in faster connections and learning. Students can also make strong language and literacy connections between their home language and the new language when they process new content knowledge.

​So, how do we differentiate for our multilingual learners? How can we help them build on their home language and expedite the language acquisition process in English? First, acknowledge all the rich language experiences they bring into our classrooms. They arrive in our schools not as empty slates but with rich language experiences that we want to build on, especially where commonalities may exist in language structures such as vocabulary.

Then, we want to maximize their time in school and their exposure to the English language. We need to contextualize language to build language proficiency in the context of communicating while using the academic language of school. Contextualization happens when we make language clear and understandable using visuals, real objects, demonstrations, hands-on tools, infographics, and other media. Instructional scaffolding can happen with approaches such as reader's theater and total physical response (or the academic version of Simon Says) to tailor instruction to meet the diverse needs of multilingual learners with varied activities.

Finally, we want to ensure that we’re collecting some data to understand students’ developing English language and literacy skills using a reading diagnostic assessment, a language level assessment, and our own classroom data from formative assessments. Connecting the evidence and what students can do will help us identify how they level up.

​One way to start planning instructional scaffolding is to consider areas where differentiation may occur. We often differentiate instruction via process (how students think about what they’re learning), content (what focused topics students are learning), and product (how students represent their learning). But how do we differentiate for language without simplifying the depth of critical thinking or complex content concepts?

Here are a few ways to get started: 

Materials and resources can provide scaffolding as follows:

• Graphic organizers with dual-language capabilities that allow students to process information in both languages, including thinking concept maps, Venn diagrams, and KWL charts that incorporate translation spaces
• Sentence frames, sentence stems, and paragraph frames to scaffold writing in the new language
• Multimodal vocabulary instruction using visual aids, realia, manipulatives, and technology-based tools that connect concepts across languages
• Interactive vocabulary journals that encourage personal connections and cross-linguistic analysis
• Digital and physical multilingual word banks or word walls organized by content area, language function, and cross-linguistic connections
• Audio recordings of texts in multiple languages to support listening comprehension
• Video content with closed captions in multiple languages
• English and/or bilingual glossaries
• English and/or bilingual dictionaries

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Scaffolding can occur through our instruction by using:

• Pre-identified or pre-taught vocabulary
• Use of multilingual anchor charts and reference materials
• Concise instruction of background knowledge
• Culturally responsive examples and materials that connect to students' background knowledge
• Strategic preview-review technique where content is previewed in the home language before English instruction
• Explicit instruction in academic language functions across content areas
• Content-specific language objectives aligned with content objectives
• Multiple entry points for engaging with content based on language proficiency
• Content-specific language frames for different discourse functions (accountable talk)
• Use repetition, paraphrasing, and modeling to reduce the linguistic load

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Finally, strategic student grouping in our classes can assist with scaffolding for our multilingual students. What is expected in the form of final projects or summative assessments can also be differentiated to allow our language learners to demonstrate learning and their genius via linguistically scaffolded tools, including: 

• Structured pair work (think-pair-share activities with language supports)
• Structured small group work
• Interest-based groups that motivate engagement
• Teacher-led small group instruction (skills-based groups for targeted language development)
• Flexible grouping based on language proficiency and content knowledge
• Mixed-language groups for peer support and translation
• Cross-proficiency level partnerships that benefit both language learners
• Home-language groups for initial content processing
• Reciprocal teaching groups where students take on different roles
• Multiple ways to demonstrate understanding (oral, written, visual, digital)
• Choice boards that allow students to select appropriate challenge level
• Jigsaw activities with modified text complexity for different groups
• Literature circles with role cards in multiple languages
• Project-based learning teams with differentiated roles based on language abilities

​For some additional ways to think about scaffolding for multilingual learners but doing so based on their language fluency levels, download the resource below: 

​Supporting multilingual learners necessitates a comprehensive understanding of language development phases and strategic differentiation that leverages students' prior language experiences. By employing tailored scaffolding in process, content, and student grouping, we can establish inclusive learning environments that respect students' native languages while promoting language development in their new language. Importantly, teachers can help multilingual students do well in school while still retaining their cultural and linguistic identity when they look past labels to see each student's unique potential and provide the right level of support for their current language development stage.

Adaptable vocabulary strategies that help students decode and apply words meaningfully in real-world contexts.

As a teacher, I’ve noticed that vocabulary instruction often carries a reputation for being dry, tedious, or even disconnected from the larger goals of reading and writing. But when done thoughtfully, it’s anything but. Vocabulary is the connective tissue that helps students make sense of complex ideas, navigate challenging texts, and articulate their own thoughts with greater confidence.

This has made me wonder: how can we teach vocabulary in ways that feel meaningful — not just another academic hoop to jump through, but a tool that students recognize as valuable in their own lives? These questions resonate deeply, especially when I think about students grappling with unfamiliar words and texts. The goal isn’t just about knowing words; it’s about seeing language as something students can decode, manipulate, and make their own.

Research offers plenty of insight into this. Goodwin and Ahn (2013) emphasize the power of teaching word structure — those prefixes, roots, and suffixes that act as keys to unlocking meaning. Beck, McKeown, and Kucan (2013) highlight the importance of intentional, explicit vocabulary instruction that connects words to real-world contexts. The strategies I’m sharing here build on this research, with a practical edge: each comes with a linked resource from our library to make implementation easier.

These aren’t one-size-fits-all solutions. They’re adaptable tools meant to meet your students where they are and help them see the power of words in action.

​When students learn how to break down words into prefixes, roots, and suffixes, they gain a sense of control over the language. Morphology helps demystify unfamiliar terms, making complex texts less intimidating.

Example: Use a "Vocabulary Web" to explore the root struct (meaning "to build"). Students can branch out into related words like construct, instruction, or destruction, identifying how the root connects their meanings.

Linked resource: Vocabulary Web

Teaching students to reflect on words — considering their meanings, uses, and nuances across contexts — can deepen understanding in ways that memorizing definitions never will.

Example: Incorporate the Frayer Model to analyze a word like resilient. Students define it, explore its characteristics, and think through examples (a person overcoming adversity) and non-examples (a fragile object breaking under pressure).

​Linked resource: Frayer Model Template

Encouraging students to infer word meanings from context builds their ability to engage actively with texts. This approach shifts their focus from frustration to curiosity when encountering unknown words.

Example: Use a “redaction strategy.” Black out key vocabulary in a passage and ask students to fill in the blanks based on surrounding clues. This sparks discussion and reinforces their critical thinking. Alternatively, ask students to self-redact any words they come across while reading that they do not know. This creates the added benefit of visualizing the language barrier that may exist that prevent students from accessing challenging texts. 

​Linked resource: Redaction Strategy

Helping students connect new words to what they already know can make vocabulary feel more relevant. Synonyms, antonyms, and real-world applications all contribute to a richer understanding.

Example: Try semantic gradients. If teaching “cold,” students place related words (like chilly, freezing, arctic) on a spectrum, refining their grasp of subtle differences. This is an excellent strategy to make vocabulary into a student-student dialogue opportunity, developing more nuanced understandings of language variations. 

​Linked resource: Semantic Gradient

Each of these strategies, paired with our ready-to-use tools, is designed to support vocabulary instruction. More importantly, they offer students pathways to see words not just as barriers but as stepping stones to stronger comprehension and expression.

Ultimately, vocabulary instruction is about more than words. It’s about equipping students with the tools to navigate the world — academically, yes, but also as curious, capable thinkers. When students feel empowered to wrestle with language and find meaning in it, they’re not just learning; they’re growing.

Empower students to create strong, confident pieces of writing by guiding them through the process as a team.

​Academic writing can be overwhelming for young people to master. Managing multiple writing skill sets — making a claim, supporting it with evidence, expanding upon it with reasoning, seamlessly opening and closing your writing, connecting your idea to the previous paragraph all while maintaining formal style, tone, and voice is a lot to manage!

Given this challenge, one key support that has become a commonplace practice at almost every grade level is for the teacher to provide a written exemplar (a teacher-generated version of the writing piece) to support young people in their creation of any given assessment.

​However, sometimes, instead of feeling supported by the exemplar, young people are mystified by it, or they only learn that their writing teacher is an exemplary writer. (Often it is the how and not the what that mystifies young writers.) One successful twist on the exemplar that can invite young people into the process, give them confidence, and help them see how it was created is group writing.

Group writing is the creation of any piece of writing together, as a group. For our purposes, I am suggesting using this technique for the creation of an exemplar, together as a class. It can be as small as writing together in part (an introductory paragraph, for example) or writing an entire piece together (the full essay, for example). Essentially, instead of handing out a fully fleshed out piece that you as the teacher have written to show students how it’s done, I am suggesting that we instead undertake the writing process together with students in class.

​Group writing can happen in a great variety of ways. After giving out the assignment and the rubric (or whatever materials you provide for students to know what is expected in order to thrive), here's one way to picture how the group writing process might look in your classroom: 

Select what to exemplify
Imagine it’s the first day learning about the assignment, so you would like to start with an exemplar of the introduction.

Ask someone to get it started
​Standing at the board, typing into a slide, writing under a document camera, or otherwise, begin by asking a brave student pioneer to offer a claim that would answer the prompt. Let them know that we will all workshop the initial claim offered, so we just need someone to get us started. 

Ask other students to refine it
Once you have written the initial claim offered where all can see, ask students to add nuance to it, or otherwise make it stronger, since many brains writing this piece can be better than just one brain writing it alone. 

Move through each component of what you're exemplifying
Whatever else you include in your introduction for the assignment — for instance, background information, three reasons that support your claim, or otherwise — follow the same process. Ask someone to offer an initial sentence, write it for all to see, and nuance it together with word choices, additional clauses or phrases, etc. as young people offer them. 

Reread the full exemplar
Once you have completed all components of your introduction, reread what you have written together. Typically, it’s a powerful, beautiful, rich piece that is equally as strong as an exemplar you would have handed out, yet it is enhanced, because students created it with you, saw how to do it, saw that they could do it, and are now ready to begin their writing.

Invite students to start their own pieces
Once you have the group-written exemplar up for all to see, let students get started on their own introductions. Essentially, they have now participated in a robust guided practice (“we do”) and are now ready to write independently (“I do”). 

Group writing works in many different contexts, for just about any kind of writing. It is an empowering, collaborative, demystifying process that is highly successful in helping young people understand how to create a phenomenal piece of writing. So with your next writing assignment, if you want to support students with their writing — helping them to bolster their self confidence and better envision how a piece of writing is created — try a group write!

Literature comes alive through this multimodal experience that turns reading into a dynamic, embodied journey.

“Look around the room.” Eyes flicker, landing on other people, the windows, the rough, textured carpet. “When I clap my hands, move to fill any empty space.” A pause. Then -- clap. Bodies shift, some quickly, some hesitantly, creating a new arrangement of movement and presence. Another clap. “Now, as you move again, acknowledge the people you pass — but silently. Just recognize their presence in this space today.”

This time, heads lift. Eyes meet. Silent smiles and nods ripple across the room.

“Wonderful. We are about to embark on a journey — all the way to Antigua.”

And just like that, the room transforms. Our steps are no longer random; they map our imagined journey from New York City to the Caribbean. As we move, we start to see — the sandy beaches and blue waters of St. John’s, the bright green okra sprouting from the soil, the fire ants crawling over each other in tangled urgency. We begin to hear — the strong, tinny beats of Benna music, the harmonies of the South Leeward Mission Choir. We taste — the heat of Pepper Pot, the sweetness of Doukona laced with cinnamon.

Then, we read. Jamaica Kincaid’s Girl.

And suddenly, everything we encountered before is there again, but this time in the text. The mother's sharp, rhythmic voice delivers a long, unbroken string of instructions to her daughter, telling her how to behave, how to cook, how to be seen and unseen. The foods we tasted — okra, doukona — become part of the lessons. The music we heard — Benna — appears as something the girl is warned against singing in Sunday school. Through these details, the world we stepped into before reading is now intertwined within the story itself, making the text feel immediate and lived-in rather than distant and unfamiliar.

At CPET, we see literacy not as a static skill but as an active and immersive process. Before students ever touch a text, they bring with them a range of lived experiences, cultural knowledge, and sensory understandings. When we expand how students enter a text — through movement, sound, image, and sensory engagement — we create deeper access points for interpretation, discussion, and meaning-making.

This kind of work is at the heart of Literacy Unbound, where teachers and students step beyond traditional reading strategies to engage with literature in dynamic, multimodal ways. By using the body, the voice, and the imagination, we make content knowledge an experience, not just a prerequisite for comprehension.

The benefits of this approach extend beyond engagement — they also support comprehension. A study published in Reading Psychology found that incorporating movement, sound, and visual elements into reading instruction significantly improved students' critical reading skills and positively influenced their perceptions of reading activities. 

In Literacy Unbound, students don’t just read literature; they step inside it. They take on perspectives, inhabit settings, and wrestle with the emotions and stakes of a text. This deep engagement leads to:

For teachers and leaders, the question is often: How do we make texts accessible while maintaining rigor and improving reading comprehension? Literacy Unbound offers an answer — not by simplifying literature, but by expanding the ways we approach it.

Each summer, the Literacy Unbound Institute brings together educators and high school students as players, co-creating a shared world of storytelling and inquiry. Through an immersive, inquiry-driven process, participants explore how literature can be activated through performance, soundscapes, movement, and visual storytelling — blurring the lines between reading, interpretation, and creation.

From July 7-11, 2025, at Teachers College, Columbia University, teachers and students will work side by side, experimenting with multimodal approaches to literature and discovering new ways to expand literacy engagement.

• ​Literacy Unbound 2025 Institute dates: July 7, 2025 - July 11, 2025
• Location: Teachers College, Columbia University
• Link to apply by March 28

Spots are limited, and decisions will be sent out in early April.

For educators looking to extend this work beyond the summer, CPET offers additional opportunities to bring Literacy Unbound into classrooms through tailored professional development and coaching. Whether it’s a one-time workshop or a fully immersive classroom project, we work with schools to integrate multimodal literacy strategies that engage students in deep, creative exploration of texts.

Because when literacy is unbound, it is no longer something to be unlocked. It is something to be lived.

The best reading experiences don’t just confirm what students already know — they challenge, complicate, and expand their understanding.

I used to think I had to tell students everything before reading a challenging text. Before Their Eyes Were Watching God, I’d launch into a historical overview of the Harlem Renaissance. Before Frankenstein, I’d explain the Enlightenment, Romanticism, and galvanism. The idea was that if they had enough context upfront, they wouldn’t feel lost.

And in a way, it worked. When we started reading, students recognized ideas we had discussed — the social structures that shaped Janie’s world, the philosophical questions that haunted Victor Frankenstein. But then something interesting would happen. A passage would complicate what they thought they knew. The historical context gave them a foundation, but the text didn’t always confirm it neatly. Instead, it pushed back. Some details reinforced what we had talked about, while others unsettled it. Janie’s journey wasn’t just about the expectations placed on Black women in the early 20th century — it was about the deeply personal ways she resisted them. The Creature wasn’t just an extension of Enlightenment anxieties — he was also a character with a voice that disrupted the categories we had built.

That’s when I realized that background knowledge isn’t something students get before reading — it’s something they also build while reading. The goal isn’t to frontload so much that the text becomes predictable. It’s to give students just enough footing to begin, and then help them navigate the way the text interacts with — and sometimes challenges — what they think they know.

​What does the text and author assume that I already know to enter into the text? Is there a pre-knowledge tool to figure out what my students know or don’t know? How do I use that to curate our scaffolding of offering background knowledge? 

• Setting (place and time) 
• Authors’ identity and background
• Topic (basic level of understanding about the focus of the topic, whether that’s a historical event or a particular topic – what will you need to know and understand about the conflict)
• Context (narrative, counternarrative, etc.) 
• Geographic awareness
• Allegorical connections
• Visual/audio/text/video

These strategies offer students ways to build background knowledge before reading a text. 

​Debate Team Carousel
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​Students rotate through different stations, each presenting a key issue or debate tied to the text. At each stop, they generate arguments for both sides before moving on. This strategy helps them see major themes as contested rather than settled.
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• Example: Before reading Their Eyes Were Watching God, stations pose questions like: Should love or security be the foundation of marriage? or Is silence a form of power or oppression? As students rotate, they engage with multiple perspectives before encountering these tensions in Janie’s journey.
• Example: Before Frankenstein, students debate: Does scientific discovery justify ethical risks? or Are people responsible for what they create? These discussions prepare them to evaluate Victor’s choices with a more nuanced lens.

​Four As Discussion
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Students engage with a central passage or excerpt before reading the full text, responding to four prompts:

• What do they agree with?
• What do they argue against?
• What do they assume?
• What do they aspire to?

Example: Before Their Eyes Were Watching God, students examine an excerpt from Hurston’s “How It Feels to Be Colored Me,” considering how ideas of race, identity, and independence connect to their assumptions about the novel.

Example: Before Frankenstein, students analyze a passage from Rousseau on human nature, questioning whether society corrupts people or if people are inherently flawed. These questions set them up to engage with the Creature’s development throughout the novel.

​Navigating Multiple Perspectives

Students examine two different historical or cultural perspectives related to the novel’s time period. This helps them see how a text is shaped by competing social forces.
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• Example: Before Their Eyes Were Watching God, students compare two sources — one from a Harlem Renaissance writer who advocated for embracing Black cultural expression and another from a more conservative perspective arguing that supposed “social respectability” should be prioritized. As they read, they reflect on how Hurston positions Janie within this debate.
• Example: Before Frankenstein, students read about the optimism of the Industrial Revolution alongside Romantic-era fears of dehumanization. How does Shelley engage with both perspectives? Does she embrace one or critique both?

​As students read, they don’t just apply what they learned beforehand — they deepen, challenge, and revise it. These strategies help them engage with the text as an active conversation.

​Three Reads
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A structured close reading strategy where students read a passage three times, each with a different focus: first for comprehension, second for structure and language, and third for connections to prior knowledge.
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• Example: In Their Eyes Were Watching God, students read Janie’s moment under the pear tree three times—first for what literally happens, then for Hurston’s sensory language and imagery, then for how it establishes the novel’s ideas about love and self-discovery.
• Example: In Frankenstein, students do the same with the Creature’s plea to Victor, considering how their initial understanding deepens as they examine Shelley’s rhetorical choices and the broader themes of responsibility and rejection.

​Lifelines
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​Students pause at key moments to break down an excerpt with the prompts:

• It says… (Summarizing what the text literally states)
• This means… (Interpreting its deeper meaning)
• This is important because… (Connecting it to a larger theme, character, or idea)

Example: In Their Eyes Were Watching God, students use Lifelines to analyze Janie’s reflections after Joe Starks’ death—what she says about herself, what it reveals about her changing sense of freedom, and how it shifts the novel’s direction.

Example: In Frankenstein, students use the strategy when the Creature recounts learning language and observing the De Laceys, breaking down how he interprets human behavior and why his response to rejection is so significant.

​Exploring Historical Echoes

Students pause to connect a key moment in the text to real historical or cultural moments, asking: 

• How does this scene reflect real-world events? 
• How does this scene distort real-world events?
• How does this scene overall respond to real-world events?

Example: In Their Eyes Were Watching God, students compare Janie’s trial to real-life cases where Black women had to defend themselves against societal judgment. What does Hurston’s portrayal reflect about racial and gender biases of the time?

Example: In Frankenstein, students examine how the Creature’s experience echoes real debates about exclusion and oppression. How does Shelley’s portrayal align with historical fears about "the other"?

​Background knowledge isn’t something static that students receive before reading — it’s something they build in conversation with the text. What they think they know at the start will evolve, deepen, and sometimes even unravel as they read. Our job isn’t to prepare them with all the answers but to give them just enough to enter the text with curiosity, ready to test and explore ideas along the way.

These strategies — both before and during reading — invite students to engage with texts as ongoing conversations. Some moments will confirm what they expected. Others will challenge what they thought they knew. And that’s the real work of reading: not just decoding words on a page but making sense of a world that doesn’t always fit into neat categories.

If we teach students to hold contradictions, question their assumptions, and revisit their interpretations, we aren’t just building background knowledge — we’re helping them become the kind of readers who can navigate complexity and embrace uncertainty. 

Literacy isn’t a responsibility to be delegated; it’s an opportunity for collaboration.

As an instructional coach, one of the most pressing questions I grapple with is this: Who is responsible for teaching literacy? Naturally, the burden often falls on English Language Arts (ELA) teachers. After all, reading and writing are the foundation of their curriculum. But through my research and my work as a coach over the last 14 years, I’ve come to see that this responsibility cannot rest solely on their shoulders.

Recently, I’ve been working closely with content area teachers to explore a broader perspective on literacy. It starts with a simple but transformative question: What does literacy look like in your classroom? 

This question opens the door to deeper exploration:

• What kinds of reading and writing skills do your students need to succeed in your discipline?
• How are you teaching these skills — or are you teaching them at all?

The responses are insightful but often surface a disconnect. Many teachers identify critical skills like analysis, reasoning, or making evidence-based arguments, but they struggle to see these as literacy skills. I try to help them bridge that gap by highlighting that discipline-specific literacy is deeply embedded in their work — and it cannot be outsourced to the ELA classroom.

To truly understand this, we need to zoom in and examine what literacy looks like in different disciplines. Each subject has unique demands and requires students to develop specific reading, writing, and thinking skills. This is what is often called discipline-specific literacy — and it’s at the heart of building confident, capable learners across every content area. 

Science Literacy
Science is a highly technical discipline. According to my work with science teachers, I’ve come to understand that scientists must:

• Observe and record data
• Hypothesize and predict outcomes
• Design and conduct experiments
• Perform data analysis
• Evaluate sources and support claims with evidence

​These processes translate into specific writing tasks such as lab reports, research papers, and explanatory texts. Yet, I’ve seen science teachers assign a lab report without fully unpacking its structure, format, or purpose for students. Without explicit guidance, students struggle to produce work that meets expectations.
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Mathematics Literacy
In math, literacy may not seem as obvious, but it is just as essential. I once walked into a math classroom where the teacher had displayed a list of professions requiring math skills to emphasize its importance to her students. Some were expected, like accountants or engineers, while others were surprising, such as electricians or pilots. Over time, I’ve come to understand that Mathematicians must: 

• Break down and solve complex problems
• Engage in quantitative and logical reasoning
• Identify patterns and create models

​Writing tasks in math include explaining solutions, interpreting graphs, and analyzing data. These tasks demand clarity and precision, skills that need to be taught just as rigorously as solving equations.
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Social Studies Literacy
Social studies teachers face unique challenges with literacy. My coaching work with history teachers has taught me that Historians must:

• Evaluate primary and secondary sources for bias
• Contextualize events within their social and political frameworks
• Compare and analyze perspectives

This translates to genres like historical essays, document-based questions (DBQs), position papers, and biographical sketches. But too often, students are given a primary source without the scaffolding needed to understand its technical terms, vocabulary, and historical significance.
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These gaps leave students floundering and perpetuate the idea that literacy isn’t integral to every discipline. But the issue extends beyond social studies — it’s a challenge across all subject areas.

One of the biggest concerns I hear from teachers is time. “I don’t have time to teach them how to read; we have so much content to cover.” I empathize with this tension, I do. But the reality is this: without equipping students with literacy skills, they’ll continue to struggle to engage with the content meaningfully.
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Taking time to teach the attributes of a lab report, the structure of a DBQ, or the logic behind mathematical reasoning is not a detour from the curriculum — it’s the bridge that allows students to access it.

As educators, we must shift the conversation: literacy is not the responsibility of one teacher or department. It’s a shared commitment across disciplines, where each content area brings its own unique set of skills, genres, and approaches to literacy.

When science teachers explicitly teach students how to write a lab report, when math teachers’ model how to analyze data, and when history teachers guide students in reading primary sources, the magic happens. Students become empowered not just to consume knowledge but to create it.

Transforming literacy practices begins with a commitment to discipline-specific approaches. School leaders can initiate this shift by organizing professional development sessions that emphasize the significance of integrating literacy skills into every subject. Teachers, in turn, can adopt practical strategies, such as explicitly teaching the structure of a lab report or modeling data analysis during lessons. These techniques can be introduced at the start of a unit and reinforced throughout, whether through whole-class instruction or small group sessions tailored to students' needs.
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At the end of the day, the question isn’t who is responsible for teaching literacy—it’s how we can all play a role in equipping students with the skills they need to succeed. Literacy isn’t a responsibility to be delegated; it’s an opportunity for collaboration. By working together, we can reimagine literacy instruction, build classrooms where content and literacy work hand in hand, and empower every student to thrive in school and beyond.

Learning by doing is more than an idea — it's key to fostering creativity and critical thinking. 

I wasn’t surprised two years ago when my daughter, Glory, then only 4 years old, came home saying she had spent the afternoon with other classmates advocating to her principal for more preschool-sized equipment in their elementary school playground. (In fact, she had come home the week prior with a clipboard and a picture of Harriet Tubman on the $20 bill, telling me we needed to collect public signatures to advocate for change in representation.) Why was it that her preschool experience was so remarkably rigorous, real-world, and relevant? Because her teacher (and her whole school) believes in project-based learning.
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Almost a decade ago, I had the great pleasure of being a founding leader at a charter school in the Bronx. We established the school on a foundation of project-based learning. Every course would have, at minimum, a Fall and Spring opportunity for students to demonstrate their learning in rigorous, real-world, relevant ways. Teachers and students created projects beyond our wildest imaginations. Aliyah had editors from Penguin/Random House present in person, critiquing 9th grade writing and speaking with them on a panel. Amrita had students visit a farm to discuss genetically engineered food, then invited the farmers to sit in on students’ socratic seminars and evaluate how robustly they understood the biology behind it.

​Students would talk about their work, their classes, their ideas in the hallways, outside of school, and probably for years to come. Projects stay with students and imbue their brains with powerful experiences of having demonstrated learning in engaging and elevated ways.

Now, I know that project-based learning brings out a range of reactions in educators, from wide smiles to furrowed brows. Folks argue that it’s too fluffy, or there isn’t time for it alongside the needed curricula, or it isn’t a reasonable, realistic lift with everything else to accomplish. But I would like to argue just the opposite: that PBL is rigorous, real-world, relevant (and doable!) learning. And we have innovative scholars, robust organizations, and even state education departments that agree. 

In the early 1900s, John Dewey advocated for learning by doing, saying that we need to give students “something to do, not something to learn” because “the doing is of such a nature as to demand thinking; learning naturally results.” His constructivist approach resonates today as we facilitate students grappling with real-world dilemmas and promote their active engagement, learning from each other, and reflection on experiential learning.

​For the last 30 years, PBLWorks (The Buck Institute for Education) has promoted and supported learning by doing via high-quality project-based learning as a transformational experience for young people. Project-based learning is “deep, long-lasting, and relevant to the challenges of their lives.” To distinguish between “dessert projects” and robust PBL, these good folks have been kind enough to create seven essential project design elements (sustained inquiry, authenticity, student voice and choice, a challenging problem or question, a public project, critique and revision, and reflection) and seven project-based teaching practices (design and plan, alignment to standards, build the culture, manage activities, scaffold student learning, engage and coach, and assess student learning). PBLWorks provides a range of free tools and a range of quality workshops to support PBL in schools. 

Most recently, in 2024, the New York State Board of Regents noted it is moving toward expansive new ways to demonstrate learning, as shown by transformational shifts in demonstrating learning through their portrait of a graduate. One way students can show mastery in a subject area is through a project or presentation, in lieu of completing an exam. ​ 

These three thoughts alone — Dewey’s timeless theory that learning by doing is the best way to learn; the accessible, high-quality tools that PBLWorks provides to make it possible for any school or classroom to enact exceptional project-based learning; and the knowledge that policymakers are moving toward opening up graduation requirements to be met with projects and presentations demonstrate how rich and robust and real project-based learning can be.

​It’s beyond time to make it part of everyone’s experience. 

But don’t take my word for it. Young people are those most impacted by school and learning, and listening to them is the best way to know what’s working and what’s in need of adjustment.

​Reflecting on project-based learning in their schools, Tanique, a then-high school student, said, “these are the things that are going to change people’s ways of thinking, teaching people to think out of the box and into real life.” Tiffany, a then-high school student, said, “we have to change the way certain things are taught. Doing things differently puts the joy back in education.” And Glory, my now-first grader, says, “school is where we learn how to make good changes.” May it be so for every young person. Consider the impact of incorporating PBL for increased authentic, uplifting, meaningful learning in your school. 

A great coach doesn’t just watch — they listen, assist, and adapt.

​When I graduated from my M.A. program over twenty years ago, an educational leader spoke at our graduation and shared a story about a recent visit to an elementary school. He described how he was visiting classes, introducing himself to students, and asking students questions about what they were learning and why they were learning it. One of the students he was chatting with then asked him, "So, what do you do?" And he explained his role as an educational leader and all of his duties that come with the role. The young student looked at him for a moment and replied, "So you don't really know what you do, do you?" The speaker laughed, and all of us laughed with our caps and gowns on in the audience; we appreciated his self-deprecating humor in trying to describe what he does as an educational leader, and how theoretical and confusing it can sound! 

I loved that he told us this story, but it also haunts me when someone asks me, “So, what do you do as an education coach?” Which part should I mention — developing curriculum or helping teachers add more moments of engagement into a lesson? Should I mention how teachers have different strengths and needs, and so I adapt my practice depending on the teacher teaching and our rapport or level of comfort? In thinking about my work as an education coach and what it means to “coach” a teacher, it can be helpful to name some of the ways I work with a teacher while they are teaching in their classrooms. 

Full disclosure: I never want to be a burden, or an additional stress to the teacher while I’m in their classroom (or ever)! The purpose of visiting the classroom is to notice what the students are doing, and how the teacher is working through their lesson. But while I'm there, I try to make life a bit lighter and brighter for the teacher and students. Even if the class is 45 minutes long, I try to find ways to be a positive force in the classroom. 

Walk around and notice what students are doing, what they are writing, and what they are discussing. I'm listening as a check for understanding but also to take the pulse of what the students are thinking, and the ways they are working together. I jot down observations or write down phrases that students say that stand out to me. This is all data that I will share with the teacher, sometimes during class and sometimes after class, depending on the level of importance of what I overhear, and how much it may or may not affect the rest of the class. 

Sometimes I sit with students and take notes, writing down exactly what the teacher says (as best I can) and exactly what the students say. These notes almost become a transcript for moments of the class, and later, if I am able to meet with the teacher, it is really helpful to read back a particularly powerful or complex moment. I’ve also noticed that teachers make so many decisions in a class period, and talk to so many different students and colleagues throughout the day — how can they remember verbatim these small but powerful moments? When I am able to capture these moments and share back a few specifics from during the class, they often say, “Oh yeahhh!” and they are able to return to that moment. 
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This also, I believe, empowers the teacher to feel heard and seen. I am there noticing these class moments that might be forgotten, but now they are highlighted and we can discuss them. Sometimes they are funny or brilliant moments, and it is especially wonderful to remind the teacher of the joyfulness in their lesson. 

​If the phone rings while the teacher is at the front of the room, I will answer it and field the call by retrieving a student or relaying a message. I ask to help hand out papers or collect back papers. I will erase the board if the teacher needs it erased, or turn off the lights during a video or help with the sound or tech issues. I carry extra pens and pencils and give them out freely if anyone needs one; I tell them not to return it to me, but to not lose it so they can use it in the other classes. I will help in any way I can to help the class run more smoothly. I even carry a fresh dry-erase marker in my work bag as part of my “emergency stash,” just in case I need to write key information on a whiteboard or the teacher’s markers are dry. If I can help in these small ways, the teacher can focus on what’s important, and in the end, the students will benefit the most. 

In one of my articles about co-teaching, one of the suggestions I make is to be present in class, and sit with students to take notes, and notice what you notice. I suggest that co-teachers can be an asset if they act as “vulnerable learners” themselves, and take notes alongside students, and witness the class through the lens of a student. When I do this, I notice the needs or possible gaps in the lesson, and try to fill in. 

For instance, I was recently in a class where the school was changing buildings and had limited resources. The teacher asked students to copy notes from the board, and eventually answer questions about those notes. I was sitting in the back with a group of 8th grade boys, and we had a difficult time seeing the board. If you’ve been in an 8th grade classroom recently, you know that some students look like adults and others look like elementary school students. The tall kids were scattered throughout the room, so it was difficult to see the slides, let alone copy the notes. I started taking notes as neatly and quickly as I could, so students in the back of the class could begin to take notes from my notebook, instead of the projector that was difficult to see. 

While copying notes is not a form of teaching that I think engages students the most, this is what this particular teacher was doing with his limited resources. Knowing it would take more than one meeting for him to try other ways of teaching, I suggested that he begin inserting “turn and talk” questions about the notes they were copying down. He agreed and that seemed doable. It’s a small step that would at least give students the opportunity to talk through the material. 

If I notice a student stuck in their writing or their problem set, I may go over to them and ask them to tell me about the assignment, and what they’re thinking about. I want to help them dislodge a thought that will get them started. I will sometimes work with a group of students, if the teacher asks me to, and then the teacher and I will debrief our experiences, and discuss what we noticed and why, and what the next steps could be.

​If have the opportunity to co-plan with a teacher, I will utilize the “team teaching” co-teaching model, where we are both in front of the classroom, delivering a lesson together. This model works well when we are looking at a shared text, and modeling our reading thoughts about the text in front of students. After we share our metacognitive reading strategies, we ask students to notice and name what we did, and I chart those students' comments and noticings on the board or chart paper to hang in the classroom as a class guide. From there, we invite students to have “their turn” and pair them off to try sharing their metacognitive reading thoughts with a partner and a text. 

​When I’m in a teacher’s classroom, I have the luxury to notice what I notice and consider what resources or small tweaks can have the most impact on student learning. I was recently visiting a class where students were writing an essay and required to use textual evidence. I noticed how students were struggling to introduce and then explain quotes, so as soon as I could, I took a few minutes to make a T-Chart of sentence starters to introduce and explain textual evidence, such as:

​​Being in the physical classroom allowed me to notice where students needed support in their essay writing, and I was able to create this resource in a timely manner and share it with the teacher. She agreed this was a challenge in her students’ writing, and decided to make this into an anchor chart to hang in her classroom for all her classes to utilize. But again, this resource stemmed from being physically in the classroom and noticing what students were grappling with at a point of frustration. 

​There are many ways to coach teachers, and many ways to physically be in a classroom. It is a privilege to enter a teacher’s classroom and share space with a teacher and their students — I do not take this role lightly, and hope my presence helps the class run more smoothly, and become more engaging. I'm not there to be an educational anthropologist, where I take notes and present my findings and data analysis. There are small moves I can make that will help the teacher and their students, and I constantly ask myself, what am I doing, and how is it helping? While the answer may be long winded, in the end I am always thinking about how to elevate the students’ learning experiences in the short window that I am part of the class. 

Sometimes the tools we need for change are already in front of us — we just need to notice them.

At our first full staff meeting this semester, I sat at a table with three images of a plant in front of me – a shoot, an unfolding leaf, and a flourishing plant. The header asked “What does growth look like?” I tried to be reflective, present. Take the exercise seriously, I thought. Growth is first painful, then a stretching, then a blossoming. I wrote these underneath each picture: done! I did not feel like I was learning anything new with it, only like I was saying the answers the teacher — in this case, the facilitator — wanted to hear. 

Across the table, my colleague Jen picked up some markers from the supplies that were provided and started illustrating her page, adding sunlight and water to the margins. Even though the markers were provided, and I see them all the time, it hadn’t occurred to me to use them. “This is a professional setting, not a place for coloring,” my inner disciplinarian yelled. But Jen was doing it, and Jen had been here much longer than I had, so I started coloring too. Pain became PAIN with lightning around it in blue and red. S  t  r  e  t  c  h  i  n  g was green, stretched and loopy. Blossoming, well, blossomed! I noticed how Jen had drawn a flower rising through the header and decided to color each word of the title as well.

With markers, “What does growth look like?” split into separate words. “What” got a big blue/purple question mark. “Does” was a sharp comic bubble action. “Growth” was a stretching potted plant. “Look” became a smiling pair of eyes in glasses. “Like” became a thought bubble of feeling. As I colored the words separately, I began to see them differently. “What does growth look like?” became:

• What: a question of kind, type, quality
• Does: an action, a movement, a verb
• Growth: a stretching, a movement, a change in a positive direction
• Look: perception, appearance, noticing
• Like: comparison, similarity, imagery, metaphor

It was like I was seeing the question for the first time. The shoot struggling in the dirt was not just small, hidden growth,  but now “discomfortable movement towards new practices, messier than we’d like, that seems like we aren’t always moving”. My answers to the activity, previously rote and trite, were now literally colorful and new. The coloring sparked generative new thoughts and conversations — not because the activity changed, but because my perspective did.

​It’s easy to get stuck in a rut. There’s a lesson I know works, but after leading the same material multiple times a day for years, it gets old. But the lesson is pedagogically sound, and I don’t want to add another “to-do” to my list. When I was thinking through how to fix this, I thought back to the box of markers on my table, and how that changed things for me — and hopefully for you as well! As teachers, we don’t always have to create something brand new. Changing how I think about and present a lesson rather than what I present is usually an option. But what can this look like for you? Walking through my experience at the table might help.

​In my example, I had to notice that the box of markers was on the table. There were resources right in front of me that I didn’t see, because I wasn’t looking for them. What does that look like for you? What are your boxes of markers? It could be literal markers and paper. Instead of having students just pull quotes from a text into a Google doc that demonstrate concrete imagery, could you have them write and decorate them on chart paper? Your box could be using a Kahoot, turning an individual assignment into group work, or presenting your lesson with the assistance of memes and videos. Take a look around your room — what is available? What resources does your school let you use in class? What works for your lesson?

​It is not enough to think differently, especially when we all — both teachers and students — are used to thinking in traditional ways. Someone needs to model new thinking. For me, that was Jen, coloring. Now that you have your resources, come up with a model. What could this new version of the lesson look like? For instance, having students play a game to illustrate grammar rules instead of just lecturing. What visual/audio/tactile aids are needed for students to grasp the work? Maybe in addition to your mini-lesson, you share a Youtube video or an Instagram reel that contains the same information.  Is a finished example enough, or do you need to walk through the creation of the work together? What will give your students permission to explore freely?

Now for the easy part — let your imagination run wild! Take the box of markers and spill it out over your classroom. As the lesson wraps up you can call your class together and reflect on how this new experience went. In my group, we talked about why Jen and I colored, how that changed our thinking, and how we could use this exercise in the future. We continued this practice with the rest of the meeting’s activities, and it became a part of the way we interacted with each other. Your classroom is full of opportunities to cultivate a culture of new exploration without adding new to-dos to your schedule. Happy coloring!

Help your classroom grow from a space for learning to a community of mutual support and growth.

This is the third and final installment in our Rethinking the Three Rs series

​We all recognize that special feeling in a classroom when students are working productively together, the teacher seems at ease, and there is a tangible sense of trust and engagement. 
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This is not easy to accomplish. In fact, in a classroom with 25 or more students, we may never achieve complete engagement and a sense of trust with every single learner — but we can strive for it. 

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about what actually holds a classroom culture together. So much goes into it — hours of thoughtful planning, choosing or adjusting content, offering clear instructions, established routines and rituals, and so much more. However, I think that relationships are the superglue that holds together the ecosystem of a productive classroom environment. 

Classroom relationships are a complex web of trust — we, as the teacher, have a relationship with the class as a whole, students have relationships with each other individually, in groups, and also, teachers have relationships with individual students. I won’t go so far with the web analogy to say that we as teachers are the spiders building the web, but we kind of are! 

This beautiful and complex web is not to be underestimated. 

​Establishing key routines and rituals to keep our classrooms organized and managed every day is foundational for strong classroom culture. I learned the hard way that for all students to “buy into” procedures and routines, it takes trust — students need to trust you and you need to trust them. 

These include routines that create clear and consistent procedures that communicate classroom expectations to students, whether those are related to starting and ending lessons, entering and exiting class, transitions, bringing students back to attention, managing materials, or more. (For considerations and examples of effective rituals and routines, take a look at the first article in this series: ​Revisiting Classroom Routines.)

​From the minute students walk through the door into your classroom, you are establishing your persona. Your confidence and positivity will set the tone for the classroom and its climate. Simply staying calm and using consistent approaches to bring the class to attention reinforces your approach and helps students trust you and respect your expectations of them. The clearer you can be about what you expect, the more you can help students learn to trust you. 

Don’t be afraid to strategically share yourself with students. As the adult in the classroom, you may want to only share parts of your life, but if you can share your interests, passions, and aspects of your personality, students will relate to you more as a full human being.

Expert teachers C. Peterson-Snyder and A. Anderson at the Brooklyn Environmental Exploration School affirm that brief daily check-ins at the door have had a positive impact on their classroom culture. Greeting students at the door always sends a clear message that you are in control of the space and that you also care about each individual student. A personalized greeting, a word of support, or a follow up question can go a long way. Connecting with students as they leave the classroom is also a great way to maintain ongoing connections and accountability with each student. The imprint of a brief affirmation, reminder, or fist bump as a student leaves your classroom may set the tone for how they walk back into it. Consistent, caring interactions can foster trust, and over time, relationships that build an engaged classroom community. 

​Finding ways to recognize each student as an individual and valuable classroom member is a key element of relationship building.

A range of research shows that acknowledgement and recognition has an impact on helping students feel confident and positive about themselves, which can lead to more participation and engagement. Don’t we all thrive on being acknowledged and recognized? 
 
Connecting with students goes beyond acknowledging each students’ presence and state of mind on a daily basis; it may include offering students ways to express their feelings about the course and topic at hand. This can be offered through exit tickets, journal entries, or short letters to you. Asking students to “pick an emoji” on the SMARTboard as an SEL activity is a starting point; however, I caution us about “checking off” the SEL box, rather than asking students to identify how they are feeling as a meaningful exercise.

If you ask for students’ feelings or feedback, be prepared to acknowledge or address it — being responsive is a key part of caring. 

I always notice that when we as teachers can make fun of ourselves, it humanizes us and creates space for students to make themselves more vulnerable. A silly example from my own teaching is that I am terrible at drawing, yet, I never hesitated to grab the marker or chalk to offer students a visual (since I believe that images are key to support learning.) 
 
Whenever I would try to draw, we would all laugh at my attempts, and invariably, students would jump up to help me draw, or I would ask for artistic support ahead of time. I learned that I could be honest and vulnerable with my students once I had established some classroom procedures and norms. 

​Besides greeting our students and checking in with them individually, there are many wonderful activities that can be used to offer students opportunities to get to know each other while simultaneously letting you get to know them.

Learning each other’s names is a natural starting point, but positive partner and group interactions during activities such as Turn and Talk, 4 Corners, 4 As , Socratic Seminar, and group discussions can help build a sense of community as students practice active listening, articulate their ideas, and develop empathy by engaging with their peers' viewpoints.

When structured thoughtfully, these interactions create an inclusive environment where everyone feels valued and heard, ultimately enhancing both social and academic growth.

In the end, relationships truly are the foundation of our classroom culture. Students, like all people, thrive when they feel acknowledged, connected, and cared for — in short, when they are in meaningful relationships. From my experience as a teacher and coach, I am convinced that intentional strategies and mindsets can foster these connections, transforming relationships into the cornerstone of a positive, engaging, and productive classroom environment. Building these connections isn’t just about compliance — it’s about creating a space where genuine engagement flourishes.

Integrate student-centered approaches to reduce your workload while maximizing student learning and collaboration.

Recently, I had the opportunity to visit a seasoned math teacher, Ms. M., whose passion for teaching was unmistakable. Her enthusiasm for math came alive as she demonstrated solving multi-step equations, making real-world connections to when these skills might be used. Using colorful markers, she modeled the problem-solving process, guiding her students through each step. Her students eagerly followed along, jotting notes in their notebooks and raising their hands to answer questions like, “What do I do next?”

The energy and structure in Ms. M.'s classroom were inspiring. However, as Ms. M continued to model problem after problem, some questions began to surface in my mind. 

• How many whole-class practice problems are necessary?
• How does Ms. M. gauge whether all her students are truly understanding?
• What about the students who aren’t raising their hands or those seated at the back, often struggling to hear their peers’ responses?

These reflections prompted me to consider the balance between teacher-led instruction and opportunities for student-driven learning.

Whole-class instruction has undeniable benefits. It provides structure, allows teachers to maintain control over the pace of the lesson, and can help manage behaviors. However, relying solely on this approach may unintentionally limit students' growth and a teacher’s ability to assess their understanding.

When students spend most of the class copying notes or watching the teacher work through problems, they’re engaged in passive learning. While this compliance might look like understanding, it’s worth asking: Are they truly grappling with the material?
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I’ve experienced this tension firsthand. As a teacher, it’s tempting to stick with whole-class instruction because it feels efficient. But over time, I realized that by holding the reins too tightly, I was doing most of the work. My students weren’t building the cognitive muscles needed to tackle challenges independently.

One powerful framework that helped me balance instruction and engagement was the I Do, We Do, You Do model. Initially, I used this approach in reading and writing workshops, but I soon found it effective across all disciplines, including math. This method provides a clear structure:

1. I Do – The teacher models the skill or concept
2. We Do – Students practice together with guidance and support
3. You Do – Students work independently, applying their learning

This approach not only ensures students have time to practice but also allows the teacher to observe, assess, and adjust instruction in real-time.

Now, let’s explore how Ms. M. could integrate this framework into her teaching, building on the context of the visit I previously described: 

• I Do: Ms. M. begins by modeling 2–3 problems using the board or a document camera. She explains her thinking step-by-step, highlighting strategies and common pitfalls.
• We Do: Instead of continuing with more whole-class examples, Ms. M. poses a problem for students to solve in pairs using a Think-Pair-Share activity. As students work, she circulates the room, observing their process and offering feedback. Afterward, she invites a pair to share their solution with the class, either verbally or by modeling it on the board. This collaborative step allows students to learn from each other and reinforces their understanding.
• You Do: Next, students work independently on similar problems. Ms. M. might differentiate tasks by providing "reach" problems for advanced learners or small-group support for those needing extra help. This independent practice not only deepens learning but also gives Ms. M. valuable insight into her students’ progress.
• Closing: To wrap up, Ms. M. brings the class together for a quick review. Students might share their learning aloud or complete an exit ticket, giving Ms. M. additional data to inform her next lesson.

Why advocate for this approach? Research, such as Jo Boaler’s work in Mathematical Mindsets, highlights the importance of mathematical discourse in fostering deeper understanding, reducing math anxiety, and promoting a growth mindset. When students take ownership of their learning through collaboration and problem-solving, they not only engage more deeply but also retain concepts more effectively.

By shifting some of the cognitive load to students, teachers can focus on circulating the room, checking for understanding, and offering targeted support. This dynamic, student-centered approach helps meet learners where they are and ensures that all voices are heard.

For seasoned educators like Ms. M., letting go of traditional methods can feel daunting. But the benefits of integrating strategies like I Do, We Do, You Do are transformative. This framework not only empowers students to take charge of their learning but also lightens the teacher's workload, allowing for more meaningful interactions and assessment.

I encourage all teachers — whether in math or other disciplines — to experiment with this model. By clearly defining what you’ll do as the teacher, what students will do collaboratively, and what they’ll tackle independently, you create a structured yet flexible environment where true learning thrives.

Ground your leadership in clarity and purpose with a step-by-step approach to prioritizing what matters most and aligning daily actions with long-term goals.

School leaders: we know you truly have the best job. You get to guide and lead your team to greatness, through new and exciting initiatives, witnessing staff and student growth every day.

Yet, school leaders: we know you truly have the hardest job. We know you encounter a host of competing priorities every day, the heavy weight of responsibility on your shoulders and a long list of indicators to master no matter which evaluation tool supports your practice. 

I have had the great privilege of journeying with a wide variety of school leaders and one of the most important factors in folks’ success is ensuring their highest priorities stay strong and central amidst a sea of everyone’s needs and next steps.

This is where a Page One comes in. 

​Your Page One is an accounting of what matters to you most. When you lead from what matters most, you can stand in your greatness. If you return to your Page One frequently (weekly, ideally; quarterly at minimum) and connect your actions to your ideals, you are more likely to achieve your highest goals (and to remember them when overwhelmed by the mountain ahead).

So, to reconnect with what matters most to you as a leader, to recommit to your most deeply held strengths, values, vision, priorities, goals and commitments to excellence, and to reiterate your commitments via a written artifact you can return to revisit your highest order priorities, make yourself a Page One.

​First, reflect: what do you want most to achieve this year as a leader? Where have you already succeeded/how far have you come? What next right moves will you make toward greatness?

Next, let’s make one! Click here for a simple, one page template. 

It is divided into quadrants. In each one, write down the following:

​When you have completed the Page One template, commit to when and where you’ll revisit it. Open up your calendar and make yourself an invite that says “Revisit Page One” as frequently as once a week, or once a quarter at minimum. 

Remember: your Page One is an accounting of what matters to you most. It’s a singular place where you can quickly recount everything you need to be completely successful. It can instantaneously reground you in what matters most so you can accomplish anything (and everything) and be the leader you want to be!

Ensure your highest level priorities stay strong whatever comes your way this year. Make and commit to your best leader self by creating and revisiting a Page One. 

Two fresh starts mean twice the opportunity to grow and adapt.

​At one of my partner schools where I facilitate PD on a weekly basis, we’ve been engaging in an inquiry cycle on strategic grouping, digging into questions of when to use different types of student groups, and how to design learning tasks and experiences that utilize their distinct benefits. At the end of one of our first sessions on the topic, one teacher’s exit ticket reflection caught my eye. It was something along the lines of, “I struggle to get students to move their seat for strategic groups; I can’t imagine asking them to move groups multiple times a week.” As I continued to scan the exit tickets, I realized that this teacher was not alone; several teachers expressed similar challenges or asked for suggestions for cultivating the classroom culture, as well as the rituals and routines, around student groups. I realized my mistake: I dove right into the conceptual and pedagogical elements of strategic grouping without discussing the conditions or mechanics that make it possible.

I knew there were many teacher leaders in the building who use strategic grouping on a weekly — if not daily — basis, and who might be able to share some great tips with their colleagues. So, at the top of the next week’s session, I asked teachers to turn and talk about this common challenge. During the whole-group share out, one of the teacher leaders raised her hand. She shared something along the lines of: “Assigned seating is already part of the culture of my classroom. Students know from the beginning of the year that I choose the groups to help them meet their goals, and they can expect to change them often.” 

I looked to the faces of the teachers who had expressed concern, and I could recognize a mixture of understanding and disappointment. Of course this made sense, but what did this mean for them? It was the beginning of December; those early weeks of school where routines and expectations are typically set were a distant memory. I was called back to my first year of teaching, when I often felt I was continually making up for the “mistakes” I made in my first month: lack of clear expectations or procedures, or procedures or routines that were overly complicated or unsustainable. Next year, I’ll do it this way, was an oft-repeated mental phrase. 

​But while it’s true that September is an ideal time to apply the lessons learned from past teaching, we don’t have to wait until then. The academic calendar gifts us with many opportunities to reset, perhaps most notably, the winter holiday break, after which we come back in a new calendar year. It can be a great time to shift a policy or procedure, re-communicate expectations, or otherwise try something new. 

If you decide that the top of the calendar year is the right time for you, here are a few practical tips:

Name the shift explicitly for students.
Students can’t adjust to what they don’t know is happening. Something short, simple, and clear will do: “I’ve been reflecting on our homework policy, and we’re going to make a small tweak in 2025.” 

Frame it in terms of your students’ learning.
Doing so will remind students that your top priority is their success, and that you try to make decisions that serve them. It will also set a positive tone for the new year. Something like: “this new policy around late homework will ensure that you’re doing the work at a time when it still feels meaningful and relevant to class discussions.” 

If possible, give them a heads up.
Many of us feel safe when we know what to expect; many of us feel ill at ease when a change is sprung on us without notice. Whenever possible, give students advance notice. “The new policy will go into effect when we come back from holiday break.” Or, “when we come back on Monday, you’ll notice the seating chart is different.” 

​As educators, we plan a lot. But, it’s hard to plan for challenges you don’t anticipate, and it’s hard to anticipate every challenge — especially if you’re new to the profession and don’t have as many years of experience to draw from. If we wait until a new school year to make changes, our classes might miss out on opportunities for meaningful learning or community. The new calendar year is another wonderful time to make changes based on what you’ve learned. 

Guide students as they gain confidence in facing challenges independently.

Self-management skills, as described by the Collaborative for Academic, Social, and Emotional Learning (CASEL), encompass a student’s ability to regulate their emotions, behavior, and goals. As an educator, I have seen and experienced firsthand how important these skills become as students grow and face heightened expectations — whether it's completing assignments, managing time, or juggling multiple responsibilities. Without these skills, it’s easy for students to feel overwhelmed, frustrated, or discouraged, which can lead to academic and social setbacks.

​I’ve noticed that students who struggle with self-management often show signs that indicate they need support, such as:
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• Frequent frustration when tasks become challenging
• Difficulty transitioning to independent work
• Signs of disengagement when working alone

Recognizing these indicators is the first step. By identifying these challenges, we can provide the targeted support necessary to help our students build confidence and resilience. But how exactly can we foster these skills in our classrooms?
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To explore this, I want to share the journeys of two of my former third grade students, Anthony and Melissa. Their stories illustrate the process of trial and error in finding effective strategies that helped them grow. Through these examples, I hope to equip my fellow teachers with practical approaches to encourage self-management in their classrooms.

​Anthony was a bright and curious third grader full of energy and enthusiasm. However, he often found himself frustrated, especially when he encountered new math problems that seemed challenging. Whenever he got stuck, he would raise his hand, growing increasingly agitated if I didn’t come to him immediately. This pattern not only hindered his ability to complete assignments independently, but also began to erode his confidence.

At first, we tried various methods to help him manage his frustration. I encouraged him to take short breaks whenever he felt stuck, but he often got sidetracked and struggled to refocus. We then tried deep breathing exercises, but calming down in the moment proved to be a challenge. The pressure of the situation only seemed to heighten his anxiety.

Eventually, I introduced the Three-Before-Me strategy — a simple checklist of actions he could take before seeking help. Anthony’s checklist looked like this:

• Look back at the model problem on the board to see if it offered any clues
• Ask a math partner to discuss the problem and brainstorm solutions
• Check his notes to find examples of similar problems

At first, he was hesitant. He would glance at the board briefly and then immediately call for help. But with encouragement and consistent reminders, he started using the checklist. One day, I watched as he struggled with a difficult multiplication problem. Instead of calling for me, he first looked at the board and then turned to his math partner. It was a small moment, but it marked a significant shift in his approach.
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Over time, Anthony grew more comfortable with the Three-Before-Me strategy, learning to rely on himself and his resources before seeking assistance. This habit-building process not only decreased his frustration, but also instilled a sense of pride in his work. I could see him smiling more often when he solved a problem on his own, gaining a sense of accomplishment he hadn’t felt before.

Melissa was another third grader who loved learning but had a strong preference for collaborative work. She thrived during group activities and enjoyed discussing ideas with her classmates. However, when it came time for independent work, she often felt restless and frequently asked if she could “check in” with her friends. It was clear she needed additional support to manage her time effectively.

To help her transition to independent work, I experimented with various approaches. Initially, I assigned her shorter tasks, thinking smaller increments would be more manageable, but she would finish quickly and look around for her friends. Next, I tried giving her "thinking breaks" halfway through her work, but this led to her becoming even more distracted.

Ultimately, I introduced a visual timer to show her exactly how much time she had for independent work. We set the timer to 15 minutes for her first task, and I explained that she would have that time to work quietly before we moved on to group activities. I also added a reward system: for every independent task she completed without interruptions, she earned a badge on her desk chart. Collecting five badges by the end of the week would allow her to choose a small prize from the class treasure chest.

At first, Melissa was skeptical and constantly checked the timer, unsure if she could last the full 15 minutes. When the timer finally beeped, she would let out a relieved sigh, sometimes exclaiming, “I did it!” As the weeks went by, she grew more comfortable with this routine, focusing more during those 15 minutes and sometimes even forgetting to check the timer altogether. She beamed with pride when she earned her first five badges and chose a small pink flower eraser as her prize.
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The visual timer and badge system didn’t just help Melissa complete her tasks; it allowed her to feel capable and proud of her independence. She now tackles independent work with confidence, knowing she has the skills to manage her time and stay focused.

Anthony and Melissa’s stories illustrate how finding the right strategy — often through trial and error — can help students develop essential self-management skills. Anthony learned to take ownership of his problem-solving process, while Melissa built focus and accountability through a timed approach. These small, tailored adjustments had a significant impact on their learning experiences, allowing them to approach challenges with resilience and confidence.
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However, it’s important to acknowledge that this journey is not easy. As an educator, I understand that it requires ongoing effort and adaptability from both us and our students. Through stories like Anthony’s and Melissa’s, I hope to convey the value of patience, consistency, and creativity in helping students become independent, resilient learners. With each student, it may take a few attempts to find what works, but I strongly believe that these efforts pave the way for lasting growth and self-confidence. 

Ten entry points for deepening student connection to academic texts.

​As an English Language Arts teacher in a heavily assessed environment, I often wrestle with the tension between making learning engaging and meeting academic standards. In conversations with colleagues, I found that this balancing act is a common struggle. We want to foster an environment where students feel genuinely connected to what they’re learning, yet we’re also tasked with ensuring they meet rigorous academic goals.

This led me to question an often-assumed division: must rigor and relevance be at odds?

In fact, research across generations, from Dewey’s foundational work Interest and Effort in Education (1913) to more recent studies (Darling-Hammond 2020), affirms that when students sense personal relevance in their work, their engagement deepens and retention rates increase. When students feel a personal connection, they are more likely to engage with academic tasks, fostering motivation and improving learning outcomes.

I invite you to incorporate these ten strategies for infusing personal relevance into academic learning, all aligned with the Next Generation Standards. Each approach includes a practical example using an anchor text common in middle and high school ELA classrooms, yet remains flexible, ready to adapt to the unique needs of your students and curriculum. 

These offer a pathway forward for teachers who want to create personal relevance with their students, while also maintaining a focus on academic learning standards and objectives. 

​A powerful emotional response to music, images, or situations draws students in and helps them connect emotionally to the text. When students feel something deeply, they engage more meaningfully with the reading.
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• Example: For Of Mice and Men: Play soft, melancholy music before reading the ending. Ask, “What emotions does this music bring up? How do these emotions relate to what happens in the final scene?”
• Standards Connection: Reinforces tone and mood analysis (R.4) and prepares students for writing about emotional impact in texts (W.2).

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Plant a seed of curiosity with a mysterious question or fact to get students asking, “What happens next?” Curiosity hooks activate natural inquiry and set the stage for meaningful reading.
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• Example: For "Macbeth": “What would you do if a stranger promised you the future of your dreams—no strings attached?”
• Standards Connection: Develops inferencing skills (R.1) and supports critical thinking to identify key ideas and details.

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​Nothing engages students faster than a debate. Present a provocative statement, divide students into sides, and let them argue their positions. Debates sharpen their reasoning skills and introduce key themes early on.

• Example: For "Romeo and Juliet": “Is love at first sight real, or just infatuation?”
• Standards Connection: Supports argumentative writing (W.1) and speaking/listening skills (SL.1) through evidence-backed discussions.

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Make learning feel personal by linking the text’s themes to something students already care about — like pop culture, social media, or current trends. When students see how literature connects to their world, they engage more deeply.

• Example: For "The Hate U Give": “How does Starr’s experience reflect what we see on social media today about activism and identity?”
• Standards Connection: Promotes text-to-world connections (R.9) and builds skills needed to compare texts and real-life issues.

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Let students’ imaginations run wild by asking them to predict outcomes or explore “what if” scenarios related to the text. This primes them for close reading by requiring logical inferences based on textual clues.
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• Example: For "Lord of the Flies": “What if the boys had been rescued right after the crash—would things have turned out differently?”
• Standards Connection: Builds inferencing skills (R.1) and helps students develop well-supported literary arguments (W.2).

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Tap into kinesthetic learning by incorporating activities that get students moving. This kind of engagement encourages collaboration and helps students process ideas more deeply through active participation.
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• Example: For "To Kill a Mockingbird": Use a Four Corners activity with statements like “Atticus should not have defended Tom Robinson.” Students physically move to the corner that matches their stance.
• Standards Connection: Strengthens collaborative discussion skills (SL.1) and reinforces claim-evidence-reasoning frameworks (R.1).

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Inspire students to think beyond the text by asking them to reimagine or rewrite a scene. Creativity helps them dive deeper into character motives and story structure while making the material their own.

• Example: For "The Great Gatsby": “Rewrite the final scene, but this time Gatsby lives—how does the story change?”
• Standards Connection: Encourages narrative writing (W.3) and helps students explore character development and structure (R.3).

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When students relate personally to the text, the themes become more meaningful. Inviting them to reflect on personal experiences similar to those in the text builds empathy and engagement.
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• Example: For "Frankenstein": “When have you ever felt like an outsider, just like the Creature?”
• Standards Connection: Helps students analyze themes (R.2) and supports reflective, evidence-based writing (W.4).

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Give students a task that seems simple but is trickier than it looks — like summarizing a text’s key theme in just six words. This taps into their problem-solving skills and gets them thinking critically from the start.

• Example: For "Of Mice and Men": “In six words, describe what George gains and loses by the end.”
• Standards Connection: Reinforces text analysis (Standard R.2) and concise, evidence-based writing (W.2) essential for essays.

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Not every text, especially those on standardized assessments, will feel personally relevant or engaging for students. Verbally encouraging perseverance through challenging readings can reassure students that they aren’t alone in tackling a difficult task. As adults, we know that much of life includes reading material that may seem uninteresting or irrelevant. However, it’s essential to remind our students to persevere in order to achieve a larger goal.

• Example: “I realize this text might not feel very interesting to you, but remember—you can do hard things. Take short breaks if needed, but keep in mind that you have the skills to get through this. I believe in your ability to persevere.”
• Example: “In order to achieve your goal of _________, it’s important that you do your best at reading this text, even if it doesn’t feel very enjoyable right now. This is an important step in getting to that larger goal because ______________.” ​

​Even as we work to develop our students’ literacy skills, we can create spaces for personal relevance in ELA classrooms and beyond. These goals — rigor and relevance — are not mutually exclusive. In fact, they work together to create richer, more challenging learning experiences that engage students now and prepare them for the future.

Utilize the benefits of strategic grouping to boost the social-emotional development and academic success of MLLs. 

​As educators, we want every young person to be part of the classroom community and to reach their full potential. “We want,” as John Dewey so eloquently stated, “for every child what we would want for our own child, as everything less is narrow and unlovely and, if left unchecked, destroys our democracy.”

Even before the influx of migrant young people in NYC schools, administrators and teachers have needed a myriad of approaches (and have seen mixed success with) educating and supporting the social emotional development of multilingual learners. Now that it’s common for young people with interrupted formal education to join classrooms mid-year or all year long, how can we systematically support each child to feel part of the community and to receive a strong education? 

​One great way is through how we group students. Whether you have the support of a multilingual learner coordinator or co-teacher in your classroom, or whether you’re relying mostly on translation systems and any resources you can find (or whether you’re anywhere in between), one classroom practice that greatly supports students who are learning language is heterogeneous grouping.

As a coach, I have seen a very specific type of grouping work most successfully for young people. It is practiced regularly and expertly by Rachael Clarke, an eighth grade ELA teacher at I.S.192 in Queens, NY, and it can work for any subject area, and any grade level. 

First, using data (from any testing your state may use to determine language level, like the NYSESLAT exam in New York, to any baseline or anecdotal data you have gathered since the student has joined your classroom), select a language learner who struggles most, who is most in need of support.

Next, pair them with a language learner who is showing growth, or is testing at higher levels, or who even just shows incredible intellectual effort (as we know this leads to greatness).

Now, select two native speakers who make a good pair for any number of reasons: they have strong intellectual rapport, they help others, they work hard, they have a penchant for the subject — they work well together.

Finally, pair the two language learners together with the two native speakers for group work.

​The reasons this simple method is so powerful is because students experience the full benefits of heterogenous grouping:

Social-emotional support
Students can access a supportive quad of peers with whom they may not otherwise regularly interact, which can make learning more enjoyable.

Native speakers deepen content knowledge and leadership skills
As they support their MLL peers, native English speaking students increase their understanding of the content, develop their problem-solving skills, and enhance their leadership and confidence. 

Language learners gain access to academic conversations
English Language or multilingual learners have the opportunity to hear how their peers discuss the content with one another, allowing for greater understanding, active participation, and learning from their peers in this new language.

Everyone is thus stretched to both communicate and to learn more broadly and more beautifully. And everyone has something to celebrate in the moments when learning occurs.

​I believe the quad, thusly organized, is already sufficient to support both academic and social-emotional growth for young people. However, you can further tailor the experience with supportive discussion questions, with an expectation that the group helps each other using specific roles, with opportunities for groups to present together, etc. The ways this group can be organized and the things this group can be expected to do can vary widely and can creatively, diversely enhance the success of all young people.

If you’re in need of a new way forward with both social emotional and academic benefits for all young people in your class, consider this kind of heterogeneous grouping as a surefire next step and promising practice in your classroom!

Empowering teachers to become leaders as they reimagining writing instruction across disciplines.

This fall, I’ve been excited to support a new district in advancing their efforts around writing across the disciplines. Our work initially began last year with district-level workshops, where we focused on three critical questions:
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1. How can teachers tailor their writing instruction to effectively address the distinct writing demands of different academic disciplines?
2. How can teachers anchor their writing instruction in the realities of the 21st century?
3. How can innovative teaching methodologies be harnessed to foster student engagement?

These workshops laid the groundwork for a shift in thinking. Teachers left with actionable strategies that allowed them to start reimagining writing instruction within their content areas. The primary goal was to develop a common understanding and language around writing across all disciplines, and it was crucial to help non-ELA teachers recognize the importance of writing as a tool for deepening learning and fostering critical thinking.

This year, we’ve shifted our focus to the school level, where we are working to establish task forces comprised of teachers who are enthusiastic about leadership and writing. These teachers will support their department teams in implementing evidence-based writing strategies in their classrooms. This approach not only tailors the work to the unique needs of individual schools, but also supports the development of a distributed leadership model. By involving teachers as leaders, we create a sustainable framework for change that can extend beyond the initial implementation phase.
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We recognize that effective leadership is critical for fostering long-term change — that’s why each school’s leadership team includes both principals and teachers interested in taking on leadership roles within their departments. These teams are designed to provide continuous support to their peers, ensuring that the writing initiatives are integrated consistently and effectively across subject areas.

So, what does this process look like in practice? How do we begin?

I worked closely with principals to identify task force members at three middle schools. Through classroom visits and interactions during workshops, we identified curious, open-minded teachers who demonstrated a willingness to experiment with new strategies and approaches in their classrooms. We specifically looked for educators who were not only reflective about their own practices but also enthusiastic about sharing ideas and collaborating with peers. After observing these qualities, we engaged in discussions with the principals about potential candidates.

The principals reached out to these teachers, personally inviting them to consider participating in the task force. The invitation was framed as an opportunity for professional growth, collaboration, and leadership, rather than a directive or obligation. In some cases, principals provided a gentle nudge, encouraging teachers they believed would bring valuable perspectives to the table. These teachers, excited by the prospect of contributing to school-wide initiatives focused on writing, became the task force, creating a strong team committed to rethinking the role of writing across the curriculum.

Over the course of three days, I collaborated with each team to establish a shared vision for our writing initiative. Together, we defined clear and actionable goals for improving student writing and outlined a comprehensive plan to achieve them. A central part of this process was the identification of four key writing strategies that would guide our efforts throughout the school year. These strategies were thoughtfully chosen to ensure they could be seamlessly integrated across all disciplines, including math.

​Examples of the strategies that were selected include:

​Once we established the overarching vision and goals, as well the specific strategies, we turned our attention to identifying criteria for monitoring progress. The task force decided to use a combination of teacher surveys, classroom observations, and analysis of student work to assess the impact of the writing strategies. This continuous feedback loop allows us to adjust our approach as needed and ensure that the strategies are effectively supporting both teachers and students.

Our next steps involve exploring the first strategy together in an upcoming professional learning session. During the session, task force members will reflect on how to apply the strategy to their respective disciplines. Afterward, they will turnkey these strategies to their teams, sharing both the rationale and practical applications of the approach. When I return next month, we will conduct learning walks to observe classrooms, assess the implementation of the strategy, and address any questions or challenges teachers may be facing.

​By establishing dedicated task forces at each school, we are fostering a collaborative, leadership-driven approach to writing across the disciplines. This initiative equips teachers with the tools they need to support their colleagues and ensures that writing instruction becomes an integral part of learning in every subject. As we continue this work, the focus remains on refining strategies, building capacity within schools, and creating a sustainable model for disciplinary literacy that will have a lasting impact on both teachers and students.

Mistakes are part of the learning process, and every risk taken in teaching can lead to powerful, lasting growth.

I just had one of the greatest honors a coach can experience: I was invited to sit next to a first-year teacher, Jeshley, as she cried in the school’s back stairwell. 
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The seeds of growth are in moments like these: the absolute muck of that first year is essential to it. Let’s consider caterpillars: as my daughter recounted to me at the ripe old age of three, “Mama, did you know caterpillars break every bone in their body in order to become butterflies?” Truly, I didn’t, that is not how I was taught about butterflies. And I honestly hadn’t thought much about how painstaking transformation might be in the chrysalis. I thought, maybe like many of us, of the beautiful and incredible transformation this creature makes, thinking little about the becoming. But it simply wouldn’t transform without that bone-breaking part. 

Jeshley started sharing her own “broken bones” through her tears: although she was successful in past experiences that led her to teaching, now that she was a teacher she didn’t even feel successful, much less that she was mastering her first year, as she had very much hoped to do. I let her know that mastering teaching in your first year isn’t a thing — that I am here in year 20, and I still make mistakes all the time. It’s part of learning. It’s actually built into the profession: you get to learn for the rest of your life, which means you’re always going to make mistakes, which means you’re always going to grow. 

And as she continued sharing, I was reminded of something I am still learning myself: when we get these painful, breaking open opportunities, we can slow our growth by not accepting ourselves or by refusing to give ourselves grace.

For Jeshley, she experienced prior successes as a swim instructor, sharing with me how, although she didn’t have the fundamentals of pedagogy, she went with what students needed in the moment, met them where they were, and worked with each of them on the skill they most needed on their journey to becoming a strong swimmer. Yet, she then immediately challenged that smart, helpful narrative with her current feeling of overwhelm and ineffectiveness now that content and curriculum were at play.

She was telling herself that she wasn’t good enough at classroom teaching. She was even able to name it: “I put stress on myself to be excellent at all times, and I put myself down whenever I struggle.” If we shame ourselves for struggling, we can actively slow our growth through the learning opportunity. We know this from observing students. So I said, “Jeshley, would you ever talk to a young person the way you’re talking to yourself?”
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She not only said no, but she told me a story of how she had just recently spoken to a struggling student about how beautiful it is to make mistakes. It usually means you took a risk, and risking is essential to growth, because you begin to stretch beyond your current capabilities. She noted that risking when you don’t yet know what you’re doing may look and feel scary or shaky, but really, you’re just growing. She said, “I let my students know that you can’t possibly know everything. That once you do, you’re done — there’s no more opportunity to grow. I meet them where they are, but I encourage them to take risks, and when they do, their vulnerability becomes their strength.” She looked up at me and said, “I know I need to have that same compassion with myself because I am growing too.” She let me give her a hug.

When I saw Jeshley the next week, she had a big smile and something to show me. Tucked inside the back of her planner, she had a picture of young Jeshley, smiling up at us. She said she started carrying it to remind her that her current self talk has to be of the tone and tenor that would uplift her younger self.

She also recounted the things she is telling herself, that she’d like to tell to all new teachers:

I am more human when I make mistakes. 

Making mistakes means I am taking risks.

Taking risks means I have the chance to grow.

When I have the chance to grow, I need to be kind to myself.

Being kind to myself means I give myself the grace to grow.
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I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the importance of Jeshley’s school — she shared that she feels very fortunate to be paired at MS 50, a community school in South Williamsburg, Brooklyn. She says the families, the students, her colleagues and her school leaders are top notch and she loves being part of the incredible MS 50 community. Finding a school like this one, whose leaders invest in teachers and their growth, is an essential element to new folks like Jeshley feeling safe to risk, and able to give herself grace (and therefore, to grow.)