History teacher at New Richmond Middle School. Tennis coach at SUA, Beechmont Racquet and Fitness, Lunken Playfield, and KCC. Striving to learn, create, and innovate one day at a time.
I’ve been on several interviews the last few years. Am I a good interviewer? No. I try to be humble. I try not to talk about “Teacher of the Year.” I try not to bring up the book I co-authored. I try to be genuine. I try to be modest. I try to just be me.
And sometimes that works against me.
Through some conversations, I’ve learned two things about why some of those interviews haven’t gone my way: I’m either seen as “too out of the box” or they assume I’ll leave for something “bigger and better.” Neither of those things are my intention. I just want to do good work. I want to make things better for kids and teachers. That’s always been my goal.
And yet, I’ve got stories—interview stories for days, that still leave me scratching my head. Here’s one that’s stuck with me…
A few years ago, I had a screening interview for a teaching position. I showed up ready. At the end, the assistant superintendent told me, “You nailed that interview. The principal should be calling you next week.”
Next week came and went. No call. So, I followed up with an email to both the superintendent and principal.
I got a short reply: “I am sorry to inform you that 2nd round interviews have been scheduled. If you were not notified then you unfortunately did not make it to the next round. I am sorry to have not gotten back to you sooner.”
That one confused me.
Especially because… this was the same person who, just a year earlier, had DM’d me to say that their district would be “lucky to have someone of your caliber.”
It’s funny how education works.
I used to think accomplishments would help. That the resume would speak for itself. That being named teacher of the year, co-authoring a book, presenting, and mentoring might open some doors.
Sometimes they do the opposite.
This is one of many experiences with interviews that shaped me. They made me think harder about who I am, what I value, and intentionality. I’ve learned that accomplishments and experience don’t always matter—not in the ways you’d expect. In education, things flip fast: one day it’s praise, the next it’s silence and being let down. But I keep working. Creating. Grinding. Sharing. And having fun.
This week was all about keeping the momentum going—connecting reform movements, industrialization, and women’s rights in ways that actually made sense to students. Some lessons flowed just like I hoped. Others forced me to think on the fly (shoutout to the surprise Wi-Fi outage). But through it all, I leaned on purpose-driven protocols, reframing simple tasks to get kids thinking deeper, and using tools—whether AI or no-tech—intentionally.
I’ve really grown to love the way a well-structured Rack and Stack can turn a test review into something way more meaningful than just a study guide. The trick is keeping it fast, focused, and rooted in retrieval. Monday’s review hit all of those.
Each protocol I used was capped at 5 to 8 minutes. That time limit keeps the pace quick and the energy up. Shoutout to Dominic Helmstetter—this structure is 100% something I borrowed from him, and it just works.
Here’s how we ran it:
Annotate and Tell: A quick dive into industrialization sources. Students highlighted key sentences and had to explain what they meant in their own words.
Sketch and Tell: We processed key events and concepts visually—simple drawings, one-sentence blurbs. It forced kids to make connections and explain big ideas fast.
Frayer Model (Labor Unions): We broke down this concept in four parts—definition, facts, examples, and why it mattered. Took no more than 8 minutes.
Cause and Effect (Cotton Gin): Straightforward but powerful. Students made the link between inventions and unintended consequences. This also worked as a setup for Tuesday’s writing.
Parafly (Immigration): Students had three paragraphs and rewrote it using clearer language, and discussed how it could be improved. We did it fast, but it stuck.
We ended the day with a Quizizz practice test, and I threw in a little extra credit for any student who scored 100% on their first try. Four students pulled it off. That’s big.
To wrap up the period, I had students begin the Bento Box final—a creative, visual summary showing key differences between life in the North and South. The Bento Box is an Amanda Sandoval creation. They had to use symbols, captions, and organization to demonstrate understanding, not just spit out facts.
Tuesday
Tuesday was test day. No frills. No extras. Just students showing what they’ve learned—and the numbers speak for themselves.
When this unit started, my first-period class had a 35% average on the pretest. By the final test? 85%.
Second period? From 34% to 77%.
Fifth period? 35% to 81%.
Sixth period? 35% to 79%.
You can’t fake that kind of growth. It doesn’t happen by accident. That’s the result of layering protocols, keeping the tasks meaningful, and giving students multiple ways to engage with the content.
After the test, students finished up their Bento Boxes comparing life in the North and South. These were creative, visual, and packed with insight. It’s always a great way to reinforce what we’ve learned without just regurgitating facts.
And if there was still time? We rolled right into the next unit—the Second Great Awakening and Reform Movements. I had an Edpuzzle ready to go as a soft launch into that next wave of content. No wasted minutes.
The transitions were smooth, the growth was real, and the learning kept moving.
Wednesday
Wednesday kicked off the second half of our unit. The first part was focused on life in the North and South—slavery, the cotton gin, immigration, all of it. Now we’re pivoting into reform movements, and based on how heavy the content can feel, I knew I needed to chunk it.
Thin Slide: The Second Great Awakening and Reform
We started class with a Thin Slide about the Second Great Awakening. I gave students a couple paragraphs with the keywords “religion” and “reform” highlighted, and asked them to think about how a religious revival could lead to social change. I also made a local connection to Utopia, Ohio—a small town just down the road from us that people literally named “Utopia” while trying to build a perfect society in the 1840s. That little story gave the kids something to anchor to and brought the big ideas a bit closer to home.
Reform Movement Frayers
Then we jumped into four reform movements: education, prison, temperance, and women’s rights. I gave them one-page readings for each. They had to pick two and fill out a Frayer Model—with prompts like:
What were the problems before the reform?
Who was involved?
How did people push for change?
What changed?
It was all about giving them enough structure to make sense of what they read without overwhelming them.
Designing a Reform Movement Cookie
The fun part came next. I had each student pick one reform movement and design a cookie that symbolized it—name, promotional language, and inspiration. Not because I think students should go into advertising, but because it gives them a creative outlet to synthesize what they’ve learned. I didn’t use a fancy template. I just gave them space and a task: connect what you learned to something that feels new and fun.
But I knew this would be a challenge. So I built a MagicSchool Idea Generator for them to use. That’s where the AI came in.
Some kids got it immediately. Others just hit “enter” and copied the first thing that popped up. That led to some awesome conversations about how to prompt AI and how to be more intentional with your thinking. One student said, “It said it couldn’t help me… then gave me a list anyway?” Welcome to AI. That’s how it works sometimes.
We talked about AI literacy without even planning to. We talked about responsible use. About editing. About pushing your thinking. It all came up naturally just by giving students a space to explore and test things out.
Why This Mattered
Some people might ask, “Why let kids use AI for something like this?” And honestly, this is exactly the kind of task where they should.
Because it’s not about copying. It’s about prompting, refining, questioning, and thinking through ideas in real time. These students are growing up in a world where AI isn’t going away. They need practice using it—not just to get an answer, but to develop a thought, build on it, and decide if it’s even worth using.
Watching students try to get the right response from the AI was the best part. Some had to reword their question three or four times before they got something useful. That’s the kind of persistence we want. That’s literacy—not just reading and writing, but digital reasoning, critical thinking, and adaptability.
It wasn’t perfect. But it was meaningful. And it was real.
Thursday
Thursday morning started with one of those classic curveballs—no Wi-Fi. Not ideal, but it forced me to think fast and strip things back to what mattered. I still wanted to build off the reform movement lesson from the day before, but I needed something fully offline that still had purpose.
I knew I wanted the lesson to focus on women’s rights—more specifically, the role suffrage played within that movement. So I kept it simple: what do I want students to understand by the end of class? I wrote that down—“Explain why suffrage was important to the women’s rights movement.”
First, I pulled a section from the textbook about the Seneca Falls Convention and the demands women were fighting for. Then I found a short, 4-minute History Channel video that gave the movement some faces and energy. I was able to play that from my desktop—no internet needed on the student end.
To process all of this, I created a Sketch and Tell-o with three textbook questions and a fourth space that asked: “Why was suffrage important to the women’s rights movement?”
But even as I was making the copies, I thought to myself—this feels basic. It felt like a worksheet. So I reframed the whole lesson with a challenge.
I started class with this statement: “Suffrage wasn’t that important to the women’s rights movement—it was just one of many demands.” Change my mind.
That one sentence shifted the tone. Suddenly they weren’t just answering questions—they were preparing a rebuttal. They watched the video, read the section, answered questions, and sketched visuals of what women were fighting for. And at the end, they had to change my mind.
It took some time to click. Some students didn’t totally get what I meant by “change my mind.” I ended up clarifying—I’m asking you to explain why voting was important. Convince me it wasn’t just another demand—it was the demand.
Once I shared an ideal response and modeled what a strong one might look like, the gears started turning. And honestly, the thinking that came out of it was way better than I expected for a no-tech day. The reframing really mattered.
We closed class with a quick Quizizz to check understanding of reform movements, suffrage, and the Seneca Falls Convention. Results were solid—and the engagement? Way better than if I’d just handed them a worksheet.
This morning started in chaos. The WiFi was down. I scrambled. I needed something fast, something engaging, something that didn’t rely on the internet—but still moved our learning forward.
I could’ve defaulted to a worksheet. Basic questions. Called it a day.
But that’s not really my style.
I knew today’s goal: students needed to be able to explain the importance of suffrage to the women’s rights movement. So I reframed the whole thing.
I found the textbook section on the Seneca Falls Convention. Pulled a quick video to provide a visual. And then we did a Sketch and Tell-o using three basic questions pulled from the reading. Nothing flashy. Just layered and intentional.
But here’s where the shift happened. Before anything else, I put this statement on the board:
“Suffrage wasn’t that important to the women’s rights movement—it was just one of many demands.” Change my mind.
I didn’t ask for answers. I didn’t ask for agreement or disagreement. I just planted the idea to frame the entire lesson.
Reframing like this shifts the role of the student. They’re no longer just receivers of information. They’re investigators. They’re critics. They’re thinking, “How can I change Moler’s mind?”” It forces them to process the content with a lens—to notice not just what’s said, but what’s emphasized, what’s missing, and why it matters.
By the time we got to the end of class, they weren’t just summarizing facts. They were defending ideas. They were deciding how important suffrage really was—based on what they had just read, watched, and sketched.
It’s the same content. The same objective. But the task changes the thinking. That’s the power of reframing. And it didn’t require anything fancy.
If you follow my blog, you know I’ve been writing a lot lately—reflections, ideas, quick thoughts, lessons, frustrations, the works. And while I’m still posting everything to Moler’s Musings like always, I’ve decided to start sharing on Substack too.
It’s, flexible, I can still write like I always do, and I can also post short audio or video pieces when the mood hits. It’s all in one place, easy to use, and honestly just gives me more ways to share and connect.
I learned about Substack from Jake Carr, and he’s doing some really cool things with it. If you’re into teaching, AI, and new ideas that push your thinking, check out his podcast What Teachers Have to Say—definitely worth a listen.
In 2006, when I first started teaching tennis, I ran a bunch of classes for 3 to 5 year olds. We had all the right equipment—mini nets, low-compression balls, small racquets—the stuff that actually made sense for little kids. But I was still running drills like we were using regular tennis balls on a full court – stuff that was way too big and too much for where they were.
One day, my boss—who also happened to be a great mentor—watched one of the classes and asked, “Why don’t you have these kids rally?”
I kind of shrugged and said, “They’re not ready for that. They’ll struggle. What are they going to get out of it?”
To which he replied, “Maybe this week they get one ball in a row. Maybe next week they hit two. Maybe the week after that, none. But you’re giving them a chance. You’re giving them the opportunity to build the skill.”
That moment stuck with me for years. Recently, it’s been popping into my head again. Not for tennis. Rather, because of AI.
When AI tools first started popping up in education, I wasn’t sure what to think. I didn’t want it to become a shortcut. I didn’t want kids to stop thinking. I didn’t want to lose the craft of teaching and learning.
That conversation about rallying stayed with me. I realized—maybe AI is the ball. Maybe we just need to let kids rally.
Now I’m using tools like Magic School, Class Companion, and Snorkl in class. Not just for the sake of using them, but to give students opportunities.
Let them try. Let them fail. Let them get one good idea this week, maybe two next week.
Class Companion gives them real feedback on their writing—feedback they actually use. Snorkl lets them explore thinking with AI scaffolds. Magic School helps them dig deeper and ask better questions. These tools aren’t doing the work for them—they’re helping them build skills.
But here’s the key: we still have to be the coach.
We’ve got to teach them how to interact with AI, not just copy and paste. We’ve got to help them ask better questions, process feedback, revise, and think. That’s what AI literacy is really about.
So no—AI isn’t perfect. But if we avoid it because we think kids can’t handle it… we’re missing the whole point.
They can’t rally if we never give them the ball.
Let them rally. Stand on the sideline. Feed them another one. That’s how they grow.
I didn’t walk into my last school through the front door. I didn’t get hired because I was the obvious choice. I wasn’t recruited or celebrated. In fact, I was told “no” multiple times.
I first interviewed there for a high school social studies position. Didn’t get it. Later, I applied for a middle school social studies job. Didn’t get that either. But they did ask me if I wanted to coach tennis. I said, “No.” That didn’t sit well with me – how could I be good enough to coach, but not good enough to teach?
Eventually, I found my way into the building through special education. I didn’t have a degree in special ed, but I promised them I’d go back and get it—and I did. I finished my master’s in special education in a year and a half.
As soon as I finished my master’s in special ed, another social studies position opened up. I applied. And again, they told me no—they wanted to hire a football coach without a teaching degree. The board denied the hire. I was the backup. The “Plan B.” So, I took the job. And in the back of my mind, I told myself: I’m going to show everyone.
I worked. I carried those chips on my shoulder into every lesson, every interaction, every chance I had to connect and grow. I found ways to innovate, brought in new tech, found fresh ways to make learning matter. I built relationships with students, families, colleagues. I was driven by rejection.
This rejection fueled me, and eventually, I became the Ohio District 5 Teacher of the Year. Then the OCSS Middle School Social Studies Teacher of the Year. I became an AI consultant. A presenter. A published author.
The result of me getting told “no.”
So yeah, this job shaped me. Not because it was easy. But because I wasn’t supposed to get it—and I made damn sure they didn’t regret it.
This week wasn’t about cramming in new content or racing toward a test—it was about building something that lasted. We used a layered mix of retrieval, reading, analysis, structured writing, and reflection, and each protocol helped us answer a bigger question. Coming off spring break, I knew students would need structure but also some momentum. So I stacked the lessons with intention.
We used Fast & Curious with Quizizz every day, not just to review terms, but to show how retrieval works when it’s spaced out and tied to deeper learning. We layered in Annotate & Tell for close reading and sourcing, and we used Graph & Tell to compare data with perspective. Students analyzed primary sources, revised flawed writing, and built arguments from multiple viewpoints.
We pulled in Archetype Four Square to reframe historical figures like Eli Whitney, then brought it full circle with Class Companion, Thick Slides, and a hands-on word wall review to tie everything together.
We came back from spring break, and I knew better than to pretend everything would pick up right where we left off. After 10 days off, kids needed a ramp—but that didn’t mean the day had to be a throwaway. I wanted to build back some content momentum while still reinforcing writing skills. So I stacked the lesson around a clear essential question and layered the tasks with a mix of retrieval, source analysis, and structured writing.
Quizizz:
We kicked things off with a Quizizz that blended review and preview questions from our industrialization unit. The idea was to warm up their brains without pressure. It gave me a quick read on what stuck over break, what needed refreshing, and where we could push forward.
Primary Source Pack: Framed by a Big Question
The textbook has a set of primary source lessons—usually I tweak or skip them, but this one had potential. The essential question was: How can changes in work and social life affect a society?
I ran all six sources through AI and had it reword them to be more accessible without losing meaning. I also had AI generate two basic questions per source to give kids a little guidance. After each source, students wrote a 6-word summary that directly tied back to the essential question. That’s what kept the focus. No wandering. Every source came back to that one big idea.
The sources included:
A Lowell Mill girl’s journal
An immigrant’s first letter home
A factory owner’s defense of conditions
A political cartoon from the time
A protest flyer
An anti-immigrant speech
Each gave students a different perspective, and the layering really helped them start to think critically about the intersection of work, immigration, and social change in the 1800s.
Short Answer: Revising a Bad Paragraph
Once we had enough content, I dropped them into a Short Answer task. I gave them a clearly incorrect paragraph that oversimplified everything. Their job was to revise it using evidence from the sources.
Here’s what they had to fix: Changes in work and population didn’t really affect anything. Most people stayed on farms and worked outside. Immigrants had an easy time finding jobs and were treated fairly. Factory workers only worked a few hours a day, and their jobs were fun and safe. No one complained, and the government made sure everything was perfect.
The responses were solid. Short Answer let them see peer examples and compare their thinking, which always boosts engagement. We weren’t writing full-blown essays—just clean, focused revisions with evidence and reasoning. That’s the kind of writing practice that sticks.
Fast and Curious Again:
To finish class, we went back to Quizizz with a Fast and Curious round. It was the same set as earlier, but now students had background knowledge from the readings and writing. I wanted to see if the scores improved, and they did. Retrieval practice works—especially when the content is layered.
Tuesday
This lesson was all about getting students to see the layers of impact behind Eli Whitney’s invention—not just the praise in textbooks, but the real, complicated ripple effects. We used a mix of protocols to help students analyze, compare, and respond to those consequences.
Quizizz Check – Fast and Curious
We started with a Fast & Curious Quizizz round. The goal was to preview key terms tied to the cotton gin: invention, economy, agriculture, slavery, unintended consequences. I saw right away where the gaps were. Some students had never really connected the cotton gin to slavery. That told me the rest of the lesson needed to go beyond “Eli Whitney invented something helpful.”
Archetype Four Square: Who Was Eli Whitney?
Next, we moved into an Archetype Four Square. After reading a short bio of Eli Whitney, students picked an archetype they felt best represented him. Then we had them support it with evidence from the reading and make a historical or pop culture comparison. It sparked some great thinking. Was he a hero? A sage? A magician?
Annotate & Tell
From there, we jumped into an Annotate & Tell using two primary sources—newspaper articles from 1818 and 1825 celebrating the cotton gin. Students highlighted quotes that showed the invention’s impact: increased cotton production, land value, and Southern prosperity. Then we paused and asked the real question: What’s missing from this praise?
Graph & Tell
To bring in the other side, students examined a chart showing the rise of enslaved persons alongside the rise of cotton production. This was our Graph & Tell moment. They filled in a chart and wrote a short summary of what they noticed: a clear correlation between more cotton and more slavery. Then we pushed further—Does this data support or challenge what the primary sources said? That question changed everything.
Class Companion
To wrap things up, students went to Class Companion and wrote from a chosen point of view: Eli Whitney, a plantation owner, an enslaved person, or a Northern factory worker. Their task was to explain the consequences of the cotton gin from that lens, including both short- and long-term effects.
The AI feedback blew me away. It didn’t just give grammar tips—it recognized their POV and gave specific feedback tied to it. For example, students writing as enslaved people got suggestions on expressing emotion or explaining hardship more clearly. It was targeted, authentic, and helped them revise in real time.
Wednesday – Friday
Wednesday through Friday were choppy. State testing threw off our schedule, kids were in and out, and nothing was consistent. But in some ways, that made the lesson better. We had space to slow down and focus on the people most impacted by what we’d learned earlier in the week—enslaved individuals.
After exploring the unintended consequences of the cotton gin, we shifted into the question: What was life like for the people whose lives were changed by it? It wasn’t about moving on—it was about going deeper.
Starting with Language
We began with a short but important conversation about how we talk about people in history. I introduced person-first language:
“enslaved person” instead of “slave”
“enslaver” instead of “master”
“freedom seeker” instead of “runaway”
I told students these words don’t just sound better—they shift how we see people. They’re human first. Not property, not background characters in someone else’s story. The kids caught on quickly and started using the new terms without being reminded. That one shift helped everything else land better.
Quizizz
Next, we ran a Quizizz. I built it around key vocabulary like abolitionist, resistance, enslaver, overseer, and oppression. I also kept a few questions from earlier in the week to bring back some of the Eli Whitney and cotton gin context. The goal wasn’t a grade—it was to activate thinking, catch misconceptions, and see what needed clearing up before we hit the heavier stuff.
A lot of kids didn’t fully understand “resistance,” so that told me where to lean in next.
EdPuzzle
We watched a high school-level EdPuzzle on slavery and resistance. I picked the 9–12 version on purpose—it talked about the Underground Railroad as a metaphor instead of a literal train line. That helped break a common misconception right away.
More importantly, the video gave a broader definition of resistance. It wasn’t just running away—it was breaking tools, learning to read, preserving family bonds, working slowly on purpose, singing coded messages in songs. It gave them a new way to understand how enslaved people fought back.
Annotate & Tell
After that, we moved into Annotate and Tell with two powerful excerpts:
Solomon Northup from Twelve Years a Slave
Harriet Jacobs from Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl
We started with short background blurbs so students knew who these people were and why their stories mattered. Then we read each passage together, pausing to highlight key phrases and answer focused questions.
Northup described long days in the field, being forced to pick 200 pounds of cotton, being punished if you fell short, and chores that lasted well into the night. Jacobs described the cruelty and control that came with wealth—enslavers who tortured without consequence and normalized abuse.
Thick Slide: Be the Abolitionist
Then it was time to apply what they learned. Students created a Thick Slide from the point of view of an abolitionist trying to convince others that slavery must end. Their slide had to include:
Three quotes from the readings that exposed the reality of slavery
An explanation of why those quotes mattered
One form of resistance from the EdPuzzle and why it was important
A Human Spotlight featuring Harriet Jacobs, Solomon Northup, or someone from the video
A picture and a short caption telling that person’s story—what they saw, suffered, or stood for
Some students picked quotes that showed the physical brutality. Others focused on how people kept resisting anyway. Their captions were sharp, and a few were honestly emotional. They weren’t just checking boxes—they were making a case.
Teaching the AI Workflow
After they built their slides, I walked them through a quick Chromebook skill: Ctrl + Shift + Window Switcher = screenshot tool.
Then I showed them how to upload that screenshot into a MagicSchool chatbot I had set up. I modeled how to ask for specific feedback. As I always say, “If you give the AI tool crappy prompts, you’re going to get crap back.”
The whole point was to show them how to use AI after the thinking is done—to reflect, revise, and improve. Not to let AI do it all for them.
Word Wall Review
To wrap everything up, we did a drag-and-drop word wall. Students sorted terms and ideas between North and South—factory, agriculture, slavery, resistance, cotton, railroads, canals, unions, etc. It tied together everything we’ve covered the last two weeks in one quick review. Fast, visual, and a good reset after a deep few days.
Truth With Sprinkles
On Friday, I wanted something new for retrieval practice. I began class with a Class Companion – but with a twist!
I had AI create 2 paragraphs with 4 historical errors. Here is what AI came up with:
In the early 1800s, the United States began to shift from farming to factory work. Most industry grew in the South because of its strong transportation system and large population of factory workers. One major invention that helped speed up this progress was the cotton gin. Created by Eli Whitney, this machine made cotton easier to clean and reduced the need for enslaved labor in the South.
Meanwhile, in Massachusetts, young women flocked to places like Lowell Mills for clean and safe factory jobs. They worked short hours and were treated fairly under new labor laws. Many factory owners supported the rise of labor unions because they wanted to keep their workers happy. These early unions helped workers demand better conditions with the full support of the people in charge.
I called it “Truth with Sprinkles” – sprinkles of fiction, that is! I brought sprinkled donuts for my 1st period because they worked so damn hard on the state test. It was unbelievable. They wrote their hearts out and gave it everything they had – it was awesome.
So, as they were eating their donuts (some with chocolate frosting and sprinkles) they were finding the sprinkles of fiction in the paragraphs. They were historical detectives.
I set up the Class Companion for only 1 submission – I didn’t want them submitting right away and trying to get the answers. They were discussing, analyzing, and acting as historical detectives fixing the errors. This was an awesome retrieval practice. Class Companion gave them great feedback on each error they tried to correct – it worked out so well!
In my blog series, The Week That Was, I try to open up my classroom and my mind—how I plan, how I teach, what I try, what works, what doesn’t. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that maybe I need to open up more about myself. Not just what I do in the classroom, but who I am, and the things that have shaped me into the teacher I am today.
One of the biggest things that shaped me is tennis.
I’ve played my whole life—through elementray, middle school, and high school. I was my high school’s only state qualifier in tennis, and my old racquet is still in the glass case at the school. But here’s the funny thing: I’m not a naturally competitive person. Not in the loud, intense kind of way. But tennis taught me how to compete. And not just with other people—with myself.
Tennis is a game of integrity. You make your own line calls. You call the score out loud. If the ball double bounces on your side, you’re the one who’s supposed to admit it. There’s no ref on the court. You and your opponent are the refs. It’s a game of sportsmanship, honesty, and respect. No matter how tough the match is—whether you win or get your ass kicked—you shake your opponent’s hand and say “nice match.”
I’ve had moments where I’ve wanted to lose it. One time, a guy intentionally pegged me with a ball between points—not during the play, just straight up drilled me. I was heated. Had a few choice words. But I still walked to the net and shook his hand. Because that’s the game.
There’s no game clock in tennis. No buzzer. You play until someone wins the last point. It’s just you and your opponet, figuring each other out. It’s physical, mental, emotional. You have to get creative. You gotta adjust. You have to find a way.
Tennis didn’t just teach me how to play. It taught me how to carry myself, how to bounce back, how to keep my head, how to quietly prove people wrong. It’s shaped how I teach, how I coach, how I reflect, and how I grow.
That’s what this new series, Things That Shaped Me, is about. The moments and experiences behind the lesson plans. The stuff that built me. Because teaching isn’t just about what you do. It’s about who you are. And if I’m going to open up my classroom, I might as well open up a little more of myself too.
In a recent interview, I was told: “Your pedagogical knowledge is impressive. I haven’t seen anything like it. But we hire people who can build relationships.”
The comment came from nowhere. I was taken back. The interview wasn’t even over. I didn’t even have time to respond. But since then, I’ve been sitting with it—annoyed, frustrated, and a little fired up.
Because here’s the truth: pedagogy and relationships are not exclusive. They work together.
You want to build relationships with students? Start with someone who knows what the hell they’re doing when the bell rings.
Someone who knows how to make the content accessible. Someone who knows how to design lessons that let kids shine. Someone who knows how to lower stress and raise expectations—at the same time.
I don’t need chaos to connect with kids. I need consistency. And consistent, thoughtful lesson design frees my brain to actually be present. To notice who’s having a bad day. To check in. To make space.
So yeah, I took that comment personally. Because this job demands both.
Things are getting expensive. Teachers don’t wanna pay for stuff. Free versions are usually watered down or full of ads. I’m just here to share some tools that have useful free versions. These are ones I’ve been using and they’ve helped me plan better, save time, and still give students solid feedback and learning experiences.
I’ll keep it simple: what it is, why I like it, and how I use it (with a solid teaching idea thrown in—usually paired with EduProtocols that make sense).
Even with the free version, Class Companion gives your students feedback like a champ. It tracks writing progress over time, breaks feedback down into categories like organization and evidence, and gives consistent scoring. You can assign short-answer questions or extended responses, turn off copy/paste (huge during state testing season), and export their progress.
Why I like it: I don’t have to manually grade everything and I still get useful data. Feedback is fast and targeted. It’s perfect for helping kids write better without burning myself out.
Teaching Idea: Pair with Nacho Paragraph. After doing a Number Mania, reading, or Frayer-based content build, have students write a one-paragraph response that argues a claim. Class Companion gives AI feedback on the claim, evidence, and reasoning. It’s also great after a MiniReport—combine two sources, write a response, and let AI provide revision tips. Great test prep without being test prep.
Brisk is like having an AI sidekick built right into Google Docs and Slides. You can highlight text and ask it to simplify or raise the reading level, turn a website into a quick Google Slide presentation, or even generate questions. You can use it to leave AI-generated feedback on student work, but I mostly use it for materials prep.
Why I like it: It’s fast, doesn’t take me to a new platform, and it helps me tailor materials for students at different levels in seconds.
Teaching Idea: Use Brisk to level a source before a Cyber Sandwich. Take a tough article, simplify it for one group of students, and leave the original for another. Have them annotate, partner-share, and write a summary. You can even ask Brisk to generate questions for a thin slide or fast and curious warm-up.
This is my go-to when I want a fast, interactive lesson that looks good but doesn’t take hours to make. Curipod lets you create engaging, Nearpod-style lessons. You can add open-ended questions, quick polls, drag-and-drop, even AI-generated reflections or historical figure Q&A simulations. The drawing and writing feedback features are a huge bonus.
Why I like it: I can turn a warmup into a 20-minute meaningful discussion with a couple clicks. Students actually enjoy the format and get to respond anonymously or collaboratively.
Teaching Idea: One way you could try using Curipod is by adding a few Sketch and Tell prompts throughout the lesson. Students draw and write a quick response, and the platform gives them feedback right away. After the Curipod, you might follow it up with a Thick Slide—have students share four important facts, two visuals, and a comparison. It’s a simple way to turn the lesson into something more student-centered and reflective.
Final Thoughts
These three AI tools won’t replace your teaching—but they do make it faster, easier, and more manageable. You don’t need 12 tools, and you definitely don’t need to drop $25/month to get value.
Try one this week. Layer it into an EduProtocol you already use. Let the AI handle some of the prep or feedback so you can focus more on the conversations and connections that matter.
Moler's Musings 