Design

Let’s just say it out loud. Maybe it’s not that learners don’t want to work. Maybe it’s that they don’t want to do the work we keep handing them. That’s a different conversation, and an uncomfortable one, because it turns the mirror around on us. For years we’ve had a convenient explanation ready to go. […]

Would you keep seeing a doctor who only ran tests to prove you were sick, treated you coldly, insisted you didn’t want to get well, prescribed the same pill to everyone, watched half their patients stagnate, and stopped learning new techniques two decades ago? Of course not. We expect physicians to examine symptoms, diagnose with

Walk with me for a minute. Imagine you go door-to-door in your school building and ask twenty teachers a simple question: “What are the core components of quality, high level, daily Tier 1 learning?” Would you hear the same answer twenty times? Or would you collect twenty different versions of “it depends”? If you aren’t

Here’s the uncomfortable truth: in schools, we’re always doing one of two things. We’re making excuses for why learning isn’t happening at the level we want. Or we’re making progress to ensure it does. It can’t be both. Excuses soothe. Progress stings a little, then gets better. The difference isn’t the kids, the calendar, or

There’s a difference between assigning work and designing learning. You feel it the second you walk into a classroom humming with energy, where the noise isn’t chaos. It’s cognition. Where learners aren’t just finishing tasks. They’re doing the work of learning. We’ve all stood in front of a class and handed out something to be

Let’s be honest. We’ve been lifting the weight of learner learning like it’s ours to carry. Dragging it from the front of the room to the back, holding it up over our heads while simultaneously writing objectives on the board, answering emails, updating our gradebook, and reminding Dylan for the 47th time to “get started.”

Educators, A new school year stretches out in front of you: blank, buzzing, and brimming with possibility. There are new notebooks waiting to be cracked open, fresh seating charts filled with unfamiliar names, and lesson plans that feel more like drafts than blueprints. The energy is there. The uncertainty is too. But before you brace

“What if we walked into this new school year knowing beyond all doubt that our kids will learn at high levels because of OUR design decisions for their learning?” Not a possibility. Not a goal. A certainty. What if we didn’t just cross our fingers and hope the first day would go well? What if

Picture a school where learners thrive. Not because one teacher pulls a miracle. Not because a test score spike looks good. But because the system was built for it. Where collaboration isn’t an initiative but a norm. Where expectations are high and clear and consistent. Where the good stuff happens on purpose, not by accident.

The year’s winding down. The bulletin boards are starting to come down. Desks are being cleaned out. Awards are being handed out. And for a few fleeting moments, it’s quiet. But before we rush off to the lake or start planning PDs for next year, I want to ask a simple, but loaded, question: What