Locked In: Utopia, Ohio and the Search for a Perfect Society

Why This Lesson Matters

One of the most important things we can do in social studies is help students realize history did not just happen somewhere else. Some of the best stories are sitting right in our own communities. This lesson has become one that is completely locked in for me because it takes a national movement from the 1830s and 1840s and brings it directly into students’ backyard through the story of Utopia, Ohio.

During our reform movements unit, students learn about the Second Great Awakening and how many Americans believed society could be improved or even perfected. Some fought against slavery, others pushed for prison reform or education reform, and some groups went even further. They attempted to build entirely new communities based on their beliefs about what a perfect society should look like.

That is where Utopia, Ohio comes in.

A tiny town along the Ohio River near Cincinnati became the site of multiple attempts to create a “perfect” community. The story is strange, fascinating, local, and perfect for middle school history because students immediately start asking, “Wait… this actually happened here?” That local connection matters. It turns abstract reform movements into something tangible and memorable.

Starting With Student Thinking

The lesson starts with students thinking about their own version of a perfect society. Sometimes I use a Padlet. Other times I use a Sketch and Tell-O. The prompt is simple: What would make a perfect society?

Students usually bring up fairness, safety, equality, money, laws, freedom, religion, or the absence of conflict. Before we ever touch history content, students are already wrestling with the same ideas reformers debated in the 1800s.

This opening works because students are personally invested before the history even begins. They are not just learning about historical groups. They are comparing those groups’ ideas to their own beliefs about how society should function.

Introducing Utopia, Ohio

From there, I introduce Utopia, Ohio. I use either a short informational video or a reading about the town and its history. Students learn how different groups moved into the community trying to create their own version of perfection.

The local aspect completely changes the energy of the lesson. Students know the Ohio River. They know Cincinnati. They know Clermont County. Suddenly reform movements stop feeling distant and become something connected to their own community.

Frayers and the CyberSandwich

The core activity revolves around three Frayer-style organizers focused on:

  • Communalists
  • Spiritualists
  • Anarchists

Each organizer asks students to define the group, explain important facts, identify examples of how the group attempted to create a perfect society, and explain what ultimately caused problems or collapse.

I also structure this almost like a CyberSandwich. Students become “experts” on one group, then compare, discuss, and share information with classmates.

That discussion piece matters because students quickly realize every group defined “perfect” differently. Some prioritized shared property. Others focused on religion or spiritual communication. Others believed government itself caused problems.

Students start noticing that humans bring different beliefs, priorities, and conflicts into every attempt at building a society.

The Final Question

The lesson ends with one final writing task: Can humans ever achieve a perfect society? Why or why not? Use evidence from the case studies of Utopia, Ohio.

I love this final question because it pushes students beyond simple recall. They are making a claim, backing it with evidence, and thinking philosophically about human nature, conflict, and society itself.

Some students argue perfection is impossible because people always disagree. Others argue societies can improve even if perfection is unrealistic. The conversations end up being far deeper than most students expect heading into the lesson.

Why the Lesson Structure Works

What makes this lesson structure work is the progression of thinking.

Students first create their own vision of a perfect society. Then they learn historical examples through structured Frayer work. Next they compare and discuss ideas with others. Finally they synthesize everything into a claim supported with evidence.

The lesson moves from personal thinking, to content acquisition, to collaboration, to argumentation. That sequence helps students build understanding instead of just memorizing facts about a town called Utopia.

The structure also keeps cognitive load manageable. Students are not overwhelmed with one giant reading or lecture. Instead, they build understanding piece by piece while constantly revisiting the core idea of what makes a society “perfect.”

Final Thoughts

At the end of the day, this lesson is also my reminder to teachers to go digging for local stories. Look through old newspapers. Search historical societies. Screenshot old articles and let AI help analyze difficult text or uncover interesting stories buried in scanned archives.

Some of the best classroom moments come from students realizing history happened right where they live. That is what makes lessons stick.

Lesson Link

Utopia Lesson Link

From “Super-Laxative” to Better Thinking: Why I Keep Using Superlatives

First, before anything else, you have to teach middle schoolers how to actually say the word superlative. Every year I hear “super-lative,” “super-laxative,” and a few completely original versions that honestly deserve awards of their own.

Once we get past that, we talk about what a superlative actually means.

A superlative is the extreme of something. The “most,” “best,” “worst,” “biggest,” or “most important.” That’s what makes this EduProtocol so useful in social studies and honestly almost any content area. It pushes students past simply gathering information and into evaluating it.

Superlatives, created by Kim Voge as a spinoff of Number Mania, works especially well at the end of a unit, a lesson sequence, or after students have interacted with a lot of information. By that point, students have enough background knowledge to compare ideas, categorize information, defend opinions, and synthesize what they’ve learned.

The setup is simple:

  • Give students a list of superlatives connected to your content
  • Students choose one or more
  • They match a person, place, event, idea, or geographic feature to the superlative
  • Then they defend their thinking with evidence

At first, I’ll usually use ChatGPT to help generate a list of superlatives tied to the topic. After students get a few reps with the protocol, I’ll start having them create their own superlatives, which raises the level of thinking even more because students begin deciding what matters within the content itself.

Recently, I used it during a lesson on abolitionists. Students had to choose superlatives like:

  • Loudest Voice for Change
  • Most Courageous
  • Boldest Actions Award
  • Best Speaker or Writer
  • Biggest Unsung Hero

Students then selected an abolitionist that fit each category and justified their thinking using evidence from readings, discussions, and notes.

I also used it in 6th grade geography during a China unit. Students rotated through stations on geographic features and then created posters using superlatives like:

  • Most Important Geographic Feature
  • Best Place to Settle
  • Most Valuable for Trade
  • Most Difficult Environment
  • Geographic Feature That Shaped China the Most

Students selected a geographic feature and matched it with multiple superlatives using evidence from the stations.

What I like about this protocol is that there often isn’t one perfect answer. Students naturally start debating and defending ideas:

  • Was the Huang He the most important river or the most dangerous?
  • Was Frederick Douglass the most inspiring or the boldest?

Those conversations are where the thinking starts to deepen.

The protocol is flexible too. It works digitally or on paper. It can be quick or extended. You can use teacher created superlatives or student created ones. It also naturally moves students into higher-level thinking without making the activity feel overly complicated.

Superlatives gives students a reason to evaluate information instead of just repeating it back. And that’s probably why I keep coming back to it.

Lesson Template

Superlatives Template

Locked In – Lessons Worth Running Again (A Lesson About Abolitionists)

I don’t usually run the same lesson twice. Every year I’m changing things, adjusting parts, trying new ideas, and figuring out what works best for the students in front of me. That’s always been part of how I teach. But every once in a while, a lesson keeps finding its way back into the rotation. Not because I’m out of ideas, but because it does what a good lesson should do. Students are engaged, they’re thinking, and the flow of the class just makes sense. This abolitionist sequence is one of those lessons. It blends structure, retrieval, student voice, and deeper thinking in a way that feels natural, and that’s why I know I’ll keep using it.

Thin Slide: Setting the Tone

We opened with a Thin Slide built around the quote, “Change begins when someone refuses to stay silent.” Students had to respond using one image and one word or phrase. It was quick, simple, and gave everyone an entry point right away. Before we ever got into names, dates, or historical facts, students were already thinking about courage, resistance, and the power of using your voice. That matters. Too often we rush straight into content and miss the chance to frame the bigger human ideas behind it. This gave the lesson a purpose from the start and helped students connect emotionally before they connected academically.

EdPuzzle: Building Background Fast

From there, we moved into a short EdPuzzle. This wasn’t meant to carry the lesson or replace teaching. It simply gave students enough background knowledge to move forward with confidence. Sometimes students don’t need a long lecture. They need a few focused minutes that activate memory, introduce key people, and clear up confusion before the real thinking begins. That’s exactly what this did. It refreshed prior knowledge, added some context, and helped students feel ready for the next task.

Thick Slide: Contributive Learning

The Thick Slide was the core of the lesson. Each student selected one abolitionist and created a slide that included background information, their motivations for ending slavery, the methods they used, and one quote or moment that showed who they were. This is where the lesson moved beyond copying facts. Students had to make choices. They had to decide what mattered most, organize ideas clearly, and present them in a way others could learn from.

Even better, every student became responsible for bringing one important figure into the room’s shared understanding. Instead of waiting to receive information, they were contributing it.

Frayer Model: Learning From Others

After students shared their Thick Slides, classmates used a Frayer Model to gather information on several abolitionists. They focused on things like background, motivations, methods, and impact. This is where the room shifted from individual learning to collective learning. Students were no longer depending only on me for information. They were learning from one another.

A student who studied Frederick Douglass helped classmates understand his influence. Another student who studied Harriet Beecher Stowe added her story to the room. Others brought in local voices like John Rankin or James G. Birney. That kind of learning feels different because students see themselves as part of the process.

Fast and Curious: Strengthening Memory

The next round began with Fast and Curious on Quizizz. Students reviewed vocabulary and key ideas connected to reform movements such as abolitionism, suffrage, and reform goals. Nothing complicated. Just another rep with important content.

Retrieval practice is powerful because it strengthens memory, boosts confidence, and gets students mentally active right away. Sometimes teachers underestimate how valuable these quick review moments are, but they matter. Students need repeated exposure to ideas if we want those ideas to stick.

Superlatives: Moving Beyond Recall

After that, students completed a Superlatives activity. They selected abolitionists and gave out categories like Most Courageous, Most Determined, Most Visionary, or Strongest Voice for Change. This is where the lesson moved into comparison and judgment. Students had to weigh evidence, compare people, and defend their reasoning.

Who took the greatest risks? Who changed the most minds? Who had the biggest long-term impact?

Those questions force students to think deeper than recall ever could. It also gave them room to disagree respectfully and explain their thinking, which is always a win in a history classroom.

AI Feedback: Evaluating What Matters

After students completed their work, they used MagicSchool’s feedback tool by uploading screenshots of what they created. Then we talked about the feedback itself. What suggestions were useful? Which ones could be ignored? What would actually improve the work?

That conversation matters because students don’t just need feedback anymore. They need to know how to evaluate feedback. In a world where tools can generate endless suggestions, judgment becomes the real skill. Students need practice deciding what is worth listening to and what is not.

Next time I run this lesson, I will use Snorkl. I like the feedback with Snorkl because it asks questions and helps the students reflect on their work.

How the Lesson Worked Together

What made this sequence strong was how each part supported the next. The Thin Slide created the theme and emotional lens. The EdPuzzle built quick background knowledge. The Thick Slide gave students ownership. The Frayer Model turned classmates into resources. Fast and Curious strengthened memory. Superlatives pushed analysis. AI feedback encouraged reflection and revision.

Nothing felt random or thrown together. Every move had a purpose, and each part helped students succeed in the next one. That kind of sequencing is what makes lessons feel smooth and effective.

Why This One Stays

This lesson stays because it does what good lessons should do. It gets students involved quickly. It builds understanding step by step. It asks students to think instead of just copy. It gives structure without making the room feel rigid. Most importantly, it creates a classroom where students contribute to the learning rather than passively sit through it.

It also reminds me of something worth saying right now. There is a lot of frustration aimed at technology in education. Some of it is understandable. But technology itself is not what makes a lesson shallow or meaningful. The deciding factor is how we use it.

In this lesson, the tools were never the point. They helped students retrieve knowledge, create something original, receive feedback, and think more deeply. They supported strong teaching instead of replacing it.

That is the difference.

The problem is rarely the tool. The problem is when the tool has no purpose.

When used with intention, technology can strengthen great teaching. And when teaching is already strong, it becomes one more way to help students learn.

Lesson Links

  1. Abolitionist Thick Slide
  2. Superlatives

Design For Thinking, Not Against A Chatbot

I was inspired to write this piece after seeing an Instagram post from my friend Jacob Carr (Mr. Carr On The Web)…

Most of the conversation around AI and cheating is focused on the wrong thing. We keep asking how to catch it, prevent it, or design around it. But there is a more honest question underneath all of that. If a student can open a chatbot, type a prompt, and have a finished product in under a minute, what does that tell us about what we were actually measuring?

That reframe changed how I thought about assessment this year. Not how do I stop AI from being used. But how do I design something where using AI doesn’t actually help.

Here is what that looked like in my classroom….

Hexagonal Thinking

The unit question was simple: How was the Constitution tested in the early republic?

Instead of an essay or a traditional multiple choice test, students did a hexagonal thinking activity. They chose 10 hexagons from a set of people, events, and ideas from the period. Then they had to make 9 to 10 connections, adding specific detail to each edge that explained why those two things belonged together. Finally, they chose what they believed was the biggest test to the Constitution and had to justify that argument.

You cannot prompt your way through that. The connections require students to actually understand the relationships between ideas, not just identify the ideas themselves. The justification requires a claim that is theirs, not generated. And the physical act of choosing, connecting, and repositioning is iterative in a way that resists shortcuts.

What I saw was students debating which hexagon should go in the center. Students changing their minds about their biggest test and having to explain why. Students working through something instead of around it.

Thin Slides and Snorkl

For the unit on how the Constitution limits government power, I wanted students to demonstrate understanding, not recall it. I also wanted them to get feedback before the final product ever landed in my hands.

Students chose 4 ways the Constitution limits government power. For each one, they built a thin slide — one image, one word or short phrase. No paragraphs. No copying. Just a visual and a label that forced a decision about what mattered most. Then they recorded themselves on Snorkl’s whiteboard for at least one minute per slide, explaining what their image and word actually meant and why it connected to the concept. Snorkl gave them AI feedback on their explanation immediately. They could re-record as many times as they wanted until they were satisfied.

The voice is the assessment. A student cannot hand that off. They have to speak, and what comes out either shows understanding or it doesn’t. The feedback loop made it low stakes enough that students were willing to try again, and again, and again.

One student re-recorded five times. Not because I made them. Because they heard their own explanation, knew something was missing, and wanted to fix it. Another told me afterward that it was the first time they actually understood what checks and balances meant, because explaining it out loud forced them to work through it.

That is the thing. The iteration didn’t happen because I designed a rubric for it. It happened because the structure made the thinking visible to the student themselves.

What This Is Really About

Neither of these assessments is complicated. There is no trick. They work because they require something a chatbot cannot do for you: think, decide, connect, and speak as yourself.

That shifted how I design assessments now. I stopped asking how do I prevent AI from being used. I started asking something simpler…Does this require my students to actually think? If yes, I am not worried. If no, I have work to do.

When Amit Sevak, the CEO of ETS (Educational Testing Services), says that “the days of testing rote knowledge are probably over,” he is not describing a future problem. He is describing right now. And if that is true, the real question is not how we respond to AI. It is what we were actually measuring before it showed up.

The tools, the structures, and the methods can evolve. They should. But students still need to think through hard problems. They still need to explain their reasoning. They still need to make decisions about what matters and defend them.

If that stays at the center, everything else can shift.

That is the goal. Not to resist the change. To be clear about what is worth holding onto as everything else moves.

What Country Music Taught Me

I want to start off and say I have always been fond of country music. The sound. Te history, The stories. Yesterday, I was watching Ken Burns’ Country Music documentary on PBS, and Episode 7 kept sticking with me because of how much was happening at the same time in the Country genre.

You had Nashville continuing to push a polished, commercial sound built around strings, production, and crossover appeal. At the same time, the Bakersfield sound was pushing back with something raw and stripped down, built on a different idea of what country music should sound like. Then you had the Outlaw movement, with Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings rejecting the system altogether and fighting for control over their music. And outside of all of that, there were songwriters like Townes Van Zandt and artists like Emmylou Harris who were less concerned with fitting into any structure and more focused on telling honest stories.

When you step back and look at it, none of these paths really align. If anything, they are pulling the genre apart in real time, and it is easy to see why people at the time felt like country music was losing something important. It’s sound. It’s appeal. It’s status quo.

Losing Its Soul or Expanding?

That tension was not just in the music. It showed up in how people talked about it and how they experienced it. Marty Stuart described walking into the Grand Ole Opry as a kid like stepping into something sacred, which tells you how clearly defined “real country music” felt in that moment.

But even as that standard existed, it was being challenged from multiple directions. Some people saw what was happening as growth, as the genre expanding and reaching more people. Others saw it as a loss of identity, where the music was drifting away from its roots and becoming something else entirely.

Both perspectives make sense when you look at what was actually happening. The Countrypolitan sound leaned heavily into production and accessibility. Bakersfield rejected that and emphasized simplicity and edge. The Outlaws challenged not just the sound, but the control that Nashville had over artists. At the same time, the songwriter movement continued to operate on its own terms, prioritizing storytelling over commercial fit.

This was not a clean evolution. It was multiple versions of country music existing at once, each with a different idea of what mattered most.

When It All Comes Together

What stood out most to me, though, is that it did not fall apart. It eventually came together.

You see that in the moment where Willie Nelson and Merle Haggard are on stage singing Pancho and Lefty. The song itself comes from Townes Van Zandt, who represents that independent songwriter tradition. It had already been carried forward by artists like Emmylou Harris, who blended styles and stayed rooted in the music at the same time. Also on stage was Marty Stuart representing the traditional sound.

By the time it reaches that stage, it is no longer tied to one lane of country music. It represents all of them. The polished world, the outlaw world, the songwriter world, and the traditional roots are all present in that one moment. It works not because those differences disappeared, but because they were layered together around something deeper.

What Didn’t Change

That is where the idea really clicked for me. Country music did not survive that period by resisting change or by choosing one version of itself over another. It survived because, underneath all of the shifts in sound, production, and control, there were certain things that did not move.

The commitment to storytelling stayed. The emotional connection to the listener stayed. The ability to reflect real experiences, even when the style changed, stayed. Those elements created a throughline that allowed everything else to evolve without the genre losing itself.

The Connection to Education

That idea feels really relevant to where we are in education right now. There is a strong push in some spaces to go backward, to return to older methods as a way to respond to the challenges that come with technology and AI. Some of that push is grounded in real concerns, especially around distraction and shallow engagement.

But going backward is not how systems grow or adapt. What we are seeing now is not that different from what country music went through. There are multiple approaches happening at once. Some are more traditional. Some are pushing boundaries. Some are reacting against what exists. Some are experimenting in ways that do not always work.

The goal is not to eliminate that tension. The goal is to understand what actually needs to stay consistent.

In the same way that country music held onto storytelling, emotion, and connection, education has its own core elements that cannot be lost. Students still need to think deeply. They still need to make meaning. They still need to connect ideas and communicate understanding.

If those things intentionally remain at the center, then the tools, structures, and methods around them can evolve. They should evolve. The challenge is not managing change. It is being clear about what is worth holding onto as everything else shifts.

In Practice

What that looks like in practice is not about adding more. It is about being intentional with what is already there.

Take a week from my classroom where students are learning about the early republic. Instead of moving through chapters and worksheets and hoping it sticks, the goal becomes getting students to actually think about it. In one lesson, students are analyzing the Alien and Sedition Acts through a Sketch and Tell and CER. They start by sketching ideas, forcing themselves to visualize what the concepts actually look like before writing. Then they move into making a claim, supporting it with evidence, and explaining their reasoning. That work happens on paper, through conversation, and then gets pushed further when they enter a Battle Royale in MyShortAnswer, where they are comparing responses and defending their thinking against others. The structure is layered, but the focus is clear: think, explain, defend.

That same intentional mix shows up the next day with the Louisiana Purchase. Students begin with a short reading and pull out key numbers, grounding their thinking before opinions even enter the conversation. Then they move to vertical whiteboards using a Building Thinking Classrooms approach, creating a Number Mania with four numbers, four facts, visuals, and a title. They are moving, debating, sketching, and deciding what matters most. From there, they shift into an Annotate and Tell, working through Federalist criticism, and then into a 2xPOV where they write from different perspectives with a random tone. The whiteboards, the paper, and the structured protocols all work together to push the thinking deeper.

Even review is designed with that same balance. Instead of a traditional review, students build their own question bank using Gimkit through KitCollab. They submit questions, see which ones are accepted, and then play a live game built from their own thinking. Technology is used, but it is driven by student input and focused on what they believe matters.

And when it comes to feedback, that loop is tightened. Students write, get feedback, and revise within the same class period instead of waiting days. Tools like Snorkl or Class Companion support that process by helping students see where their reasoning holds up and where it needs work. The feedback is immediate, but the thinking still belongs to the student.

Across all of it, you see the balance. EduProtocols give the structure. Whiteboards give students space to think out loud. Paper slows them down when they need to process. Technology makes thinking visible and feedback faster.

None of those replace the core. They support it. That is the difference.

Holding Onto What Matters

We are not trying to hold onto the way we have always done things. We are holding onto what makes learning matter: Students thinking through problems. Students explaining their ideas. Students making decisions about what is important. If that stays at the center, then everything else can evolve.

If you really think about it, it is not that different from what was happening in country music. All of those sounds pulling in different directions. All of those artists doing it their own way. All of that tension around what was being lost. Yet, the Bluegrass, the Outlaws, the Singer Songwriters, the Bakersfield, and the CountryPolitans joined together on stage to sing Pancho and Lefty. This worked because country music core never changed. The stories were still there. The emotion was still there. The connection was still there.

Country music didn’t survive by resisting change. It survived by knowing what not to change.

That is why it worked. And that is why we will find a way to make this work too.

How I Actually Use ChatGPT To Build a Unit

The 13 Colonies Inquiry Unit Link

The Common Mistake

A lot of people open ChatGPT, type “make me a lesson plan,” and press go. It spits out something that looks ready to teach, but it doesn’t know your room. It doesn’t know your pacing, your standards, your textbook, or your teaching style.

If you really want ChatGPT to plan with you, you have to treat it like a coplanner, not a shortcut. The key is context, accuracy, and alignment.

What Most Folks Miss
  1. They skip context. Tell ChatGPT your class length, grade level, and what your students are like. If I had students with IEPs or specific needs, I’d include that too.
  2. They ask for a full plan in one shot. The best plans come from back-and-forth conversations.
  3. They don’t share resources. ChatGPT needs to see your textbook, vocab, and standards so it can build something that actually fits.
  4. They don’t check for mistakes. Never assume AI is right. I fact-check everything against my textbook and the Ohio Model Curriculum.
  5. They forget variety. A good plan mixes visuals, discussion, data, and writing, not just one type of task.

How I Built My 13 Colonies Unit

Round 1: Frame the Unit

I started by telling ChatGPT my reality: 8th grade, 45 minute classes, focused on the 13 Colonies: geography, economy, government, slavery, Bacon’s Rebellion, and rivalries. I asked for compelling questions that would connect all of that and stay true to Ohio’s standards. Basically, what question do we needs to kids answering by the end of the unit?

Round 2: Make It Student Friendly

Once I had solid questions, I asked for versions that sounded more like something an 8th grader would actually think about. The tone shifted from textbook to relatable things like “Was colonial America a land of opportunity or inequality?”

Round 3: Fit My Template

I uploaded my Inquiry Design Model template and had ChatGPT fill it in step by step. It organized my ideas into a real unit: compelling question, supporting questions, tasks, and sources all laid out in my format so it looked like my lessons, not a copy/paste from a website.

Round 4: Align It to Standards

I uploaded photos of the Ohio Grade 8 Model Curriculum. ChatGPT mapped each supporting question to the exact content statements: why colonies were founded, how geography shaped economies, how slavery developed, how English policies affected life, and how rivalries led to conflict. Every supporting question lined up with a specific content statement.

That step matters. I don’t want lessons that just “sound good.” I want lessons that hit the standards exactly as they’re written.

Round 5: Match It to the Textbook

Next, I sent photos of the McGraw Hill textbook pages I use. ChatGPT matched every supporting question to the correct pages, but I add added into my prompt, “no guessing.” For example:

  • Founding colonies → pages 66–74
  • Geography and economy → 84–85
  • Slavery → 86–89
  • Government and English policies → 90–97
  • Rivalries and Bacon’s Rebellion → 73, 104–105

Anything that didn’t fit or repeated content got cut. The plan now matched both the standards and the book, which keeps my pacing consistent.

Round 6: Add Routines and Resources

Once the content was solid, I layered in the routines my students already know. Thin Slide, Map and Tell, Cyber Sandwich, Annotate and Tell, and Number Mania. I also added alternate resources: maps, short videos, primary and secondary sources so I’m not locked into the textbook.

Round 7: Check Accuracy and Keep It Human

Here’s where the human side matters most. ChatGPT gives me an inquiry based plan that’s fully aligned to standards with ready to use activities. But I’m still the one making changes as the lesson unfolds. I analyze every part of these lessons and intentionally adjust as needed.

Everything in my classroom serves a purpose, and AI doesn’t know that. I do. I know when to slow down, when to add context, and when to toss something that doesn’t fit the group in front of me. ChatGPT can build the framework, but the human makes it meaningful.

The Prompt Ladder I Use

You can copy this process and fill in your own details. It saves time and keeps the work focused.

  1. Context
    “Help me plan a unit for [grade]. Each class is 45 minutes. I use [routines].”
  2. Standards and Pages
    “Here are my state standards and textbook pages. Align each supporting question to both. If something doesn’t fit, leave it out.”
  3. Template Fit
    “Here’s my unit template. Fill it in using my time frame and routines. Keep student directions short and clear.”
  4. Vocabulary
    “Here are the vocab words. Show where each fits and how it connects to the big question.”
  5. Tighten
    “Remove or merge anything that doesn’t move students toward the main question.”
  6. Summative Task
    “Create a short argument or presentation that ties everything together. Include a simple rubric.”

My Quick Checklist Before Teaching

  • Do the supporting questions all lead back to the compelling question
  • Can each day actually fit inside 45 minutes
  • Are the activities balanced with reading, discussion, visuals, and writing
  • Are the textbook pages and resources accurate
  • Have I double-checked facts and vocabulary

Why This Works

Alignment first. The unit directly matches Ohio standards and the McGraw Hill textbook, keeping instruction focused.

Accuracy matters. AI can structure a lesson but can’t guarantee precision. Double-checking everything ensures reliability.

Variety keeps engagement high. Different routines: like Thin Slide, Annotate and Tell, and Number Mania, help students interact with content in multiple ways.

Human judgment drives purpose. AI can organize, align, and suggest. But only the teacher knows when to pause, pivot, or go deeper.

Final Thought

ChatGPT doesn’t replace lesson design, it speeds up the hard parts. It helps align ideas, map standards, and create a base to work from. But the human element is what gives lessons meaning.

AI can build the plan. I bring the purpose.

Using ChatGPT to Make Quizzes (Without Losing Your Mind)

AI can be a real time saver when it comes to making quizzes. I’ve used ChatGPT plenty of times to build question banks I can plug right into Gimkit or Quizizz. It’s fast, it’s flexible, and it gets you about 80% of the way there. But if you don’t know a few key things, that other 20% can turn into a mess real quick.

Here’s what I’ve learned along the way…..

1. Feed It the Right Stuff

If you want solid questions, give ChatGPT solid input. Don’t just say “make me 10 questions about Jamestown.” Copy and paste the exact reading, video transcript, or notes your students will be using. That way, every question connects directly to what they’ve seen in class. When you skip this step, you end up with questions from the internet version of your topic, which might not match what you’re teaching at all.

2. Ask for Variety

Be specific: tell ChatGPT you want a mix of DOK 1 (recall) and DOK 2 (basic understanding or application) questions. Otherwise, you’ll get ten versions of “What year was Jamestown founded?” Variety keeps students thinking.

3. Watch Out for Answer Length

AI has a habit of making the correct answer the longest one. Every time. It’s a dead giveaway. Tell it to make all the answer choices about the same length. You’ll still need to double check, but it cuts down on the editing.

4. Distractors Need Love Too

AI struggles with wrong answers, it tends to make them so random or ridiculous that the right answer is obvious. Plan to spend a few minutes tightening up those distractors. Make them believable. You want students thinking, not guessing.

5. Review Everything

Before you upload that quiz into Gimkit or Quizizz, read through every single question. Fix weird wording, inconsistent capitalization, or any question that doesn’t make sense. It’s worth the few minutes, it saves you from the “Wait, that’s not even one of the answers!” moment mid game.

6. Let AI Be the Starter, Not the Finisher

Think of ChatGPT as your quiz assistant. It can do 80% of the grunt work drafting questions, formatting CSVs, building structure. You do the final 20% tweaking for clarity, checking accuracy, and matching your class tone. That combo works way better than either human or AI alone.

AI isn’t replacing teachers, it’s giving us a head start. The trick is knowing how to steer it. Give it the right info, set clear expectations, and finish strong yourself. That’s how you turn a good AI draft into a great classroom quiz.

What Stuck With Me: Lessons That Still Shape My Teaching

There are some people you can learn something from every time you talk to them. That was Scott Petri for me. Whether it was during a presentation, a text thread, or a chat about lesson design, he had a way of dropping a sentence or two that would make me rethink what I was doing in my classroom.

He helped me see Social Studies through a different lens. Less about just covering content, more about treating it like literacy instruction. That idea that we’re not just teaching history but also building background knowledge, academic vocabulary, and real writing skills, still shapes how I teach today.

Here are some of the biggest things that stuck with me….

Social Studies is English

Scott used to say he was a “closeted English teacher.” He wasn’t just throwing that line out, he meant that if we’re teaching history well, we’re also teaching kids to read better, write better, and talk about complex ideas. One stat he shared really changed how I viewed my role: 55% of a student’s academic vocabulary comes from Social Studies. That’s massive. It made me way more intentional about teaching words and concepts instead of assuming kids would just “pick them up.” When I treat Social Studies like an English class, my students grow more in both.

Listening Is Learning

Scott taught me that students can listen and understand two to three grade levels above where they can read. That fact gave me a huge mindset shift. I used to feel a little guilty when I read texts aloud or used podcasts or narrated videos. It felt like I was doing too much of the work. But this past year, when I was doing a lot of reading aloud to my class, I remembered what he said. I wasn’t just talking at them, I was helping them access content they wouldn’t be able to get on their own.

Letting students listen, follow along with a transcript, and take notes isn’t cutting corners, it’s smart scaffolding. It helps them build confidence and fluency without feeling lost. Multimodal input: reading, listening, writing works better than just throwing a hard article at a struggling reader. That’s something I leaned into more this year, and it paid off.

Connections Are Where the Learning Happens

Scott shared a stat in most of his presentations that came from the 2021 AP U.S. History exam: only 15% of students could successfully make historical connections. We’re pretty good at helping students recall facts. But making connections? That takes practice—and modeling.

Scott was always pushing us to slow down and help students ask questions like, “How does this relate to what we’ve already learned?” or “What’s the bigger theme here?” And this is exactly why he created the Archetype Four Square: a powerful tool that helps kids organize historical events into meaningful patterns and themes. It’s a simple structure that forces them to think about how ideas evolve, connect, and repeat across time. It’s one of the most practical ways I’ve seen to build true historical thinking skills.

Reflection Isn’t a Side Dish—It’s the Main Course

Another big takeaway from Scott was the way he used student reflection and exemplars. Not as an extra. As a core part of the learning. Whether it was a Cybersandwich or a Number Mania or a Retell in Rhyme, he modeled how to show students what good looks like, and then helped them figure out how to get there.

After a Cybersandwich, I’d show students the notes I wish they had written. After a Number Mania, we’d reflect: “Did these numbers tell a story or just fill a slide?” That kind of thinking has changed how I run my classroom. It’s not just about doing the activity. It’s about growing through the feedback loop……..

Final

I still catch myself quoting things I heard Scott say in a Zoom call or presentation. Little ideas that stuck with me and ended up changing how I teach. He helped me raise the bar, not by making things harder, but by helping me teach smarter.

If you’ve ever wondered if those small moments of professional learning matter trust me, they do. They ripple. They stay with you. And sometimes they become the foundation of how you teach moving forward.

An Email at 1:40AM

“Not sure if I should say good morning or good night as it is 1:40am. We were talking about school and you came up in the conversation. I wanted to thank you for making learning easier and enjoyable.”

That was the email. No subject line. No assignment attached. Just a student, up late, thinking, and choosing to send a thank you. I didn’t need anything more.

These kinds of messages hit different. They’re not about test scores. They’re not about grades. They’re about how the learning felt.

And let’s be honest: that phrase: ‘easier and enjoyable’ didn’t come from thin air. It came from structure. From intentional repetition. From low cognitive load with high cognitive payoff. It came from EduProtocols.

I get messages like this often. Not every now and then. Often. Kids will tell me in class or write a note after the year ends. They’ll say things like:

  • “I actually liked coming to your class.”
  • “We learned but it wasn’t stressful.”
  • “It felt like we were doing something different every day, but I could always keep up.”
  • “We actually create things in your class.”

That’s not magic. That’s the outcome of running Fast & Curious consistently. That’s what happens when we build Thin Slides into weekly routines. That’s what Thick Slides and Sketch & Tell allow for talking, processing, seeing, and remembering.

Students feel the difference when we stop overloading them and start giving them rhythm. EduProtocols create a culture where thinking becomes normal. Where success doesn’t depend on who finished the worksheet, but who was brave enough to share a thought.

And because of that rhythm, because they know what to expect, students actually engage. They don’t need every direction reexplained. They don’t need to ask, “What are we doing today?” Every protocol becomes a stepping stone toward learning how to learn.

It’s easy to think EduProtocols are just about efficiency. About lesson planning made easier. But they’re also about connection. They shift the cognitive load to students without turning school into a grind. They open the door for late night thank you emails that aren’t about content, but about feeling seen and capable.

That email wasn’t just a thank you. It was proof. Proof that EduProtocols aren’t just changing the workflow – they’re changing how students experience school.

How I Rack and Stack: Inside My Lesson Planning Brain

In the past I have been asked, “How do you decide which EduProtocols to use, and how do you stack them together?”

On the surface, a rack and stacked lesson looks like it just works. Kids are engaged and the transitions are smooth. But there’s a lot of planning behind that flow. Decisions that start long before the first Gimkit or Frayer Model ever hits the board.

So I thought I’d pull back the curtain a bit and walk through how I build these lessons. I’ll use two real examples: one on Manifest Destiny (Mini Report too), and the other on Andrew Jackson and the Nullification Crisis. Different months, different topics, but the same planning approach.

It’s not just about which EduProtocols I like. It’s about what kind of thinking the content demands, and what kind of thinking I want students to practice.

Start with the End in Mind

Every lesson starts with one question: What should students know or be able to do by the end of this?

  1. For Manifest Destiny, I wanted students to understand the concept and controversy of the idea—why people believed in it, what it looked like, and how it’s viewed today. They needed to analyze both visual and written sources and make comparisons between historical and modern perspectives.
  2. For the Nullification Crisis, the goal was to understand how tariffs sparked tension between state and federal power, and to analyze Jackson’s leadership through that conflict. This wasn’t about memorizing dates—it was about understanding motivations, perspectives, and consequences.

The learning targets were content-specific, but they were rooted in bigger historical thinking skills: sourcing, analyzing POV, sequencing causes and effects, and making comparisons.

Build the Stack Around Thinking, Not Just Activities

Here’s where the rack and stack comes in. I don’t start with a random list of EduProtocols. I think about how the brain learns (I’ll fully admit, no clue if these terms are correct, but it’s how I think about them):

Retrieval, Fluency, Context, Synthesis, Expression

That learning arc helps me organize the protocols in a way that makes sense.

My coauthor Scott Petri would always stack (sequence) EduProtocols in a way to help students create something/express themselves at the end of a lesson. An example of this is his use of Fast and Curious and Thin Slides throughout a lesson that would build to the Thin Slides being used for an Ignite Talk.

Manifest Destiny Stack

  • Fast & Curious: Vocabulary primer to retrieve key terms
  • Wicked Hydra: Generate questions from a controversial headline to spark curiosity
  • Sourcing Parts: Analyze the “American Progress” painting to tackle symbolism and sourcing
  • MiniReport: Synthesize a textbook excerpt and a modern article into a structured comparison

Nullification Crisis Stack

  • Fast & Curious: Start again with vocabulary retrieval
  • Frayer Model: Use student data to target the most-missed terms for clarity and fluency
  • Somebody-Wanted-But-So-Then: Sequence the conflict with a narrative lens
  • 2xPOV: Explore Jackson vs. Calhoun’s stances through primary source excerpts

The protocols change, but the pattern doesn’t. Start with retrieval, build into context and complexity, and finish with a chance for students to show their creativity/knowledge.

Let the Content Shape the Thinking

The thinking flow stays the same, but I adapt it based on what the content demands.

Manifest Destiny is full of imagery, myth, and legacy. It asks students to wrestle with beliefs, intentions, and consequences. I use EduProtocols that bring those pieced to life through visuals, structured writing, and modern-day connections.

The Nullification Crisis, on the other hand, is rooted in power dynamics and constitutional interpretation. It’s about understanding who wanted what, why they clashed, and how it played out. So I lean into story structure and POV work to help students break it down.

I’m not asking, “Which protocols do I like?” I’m asking, “What kind of thinking does this content require?”

Some Skills Go Beyond the Content

There’s another layer here, too. Sometimes it’s not just about history skills, it’s about cognitive skills that matter long after students leave the classroom. I’m trying to take care of the present while preparing kids for the future.

Here are three skills I intentionally built into these stacks:

  1. Adopting a Different Perspective: The POV Analysis protocol pushed students to consider two very different interpretations of the same conflict: Jackson and Calhoun’s views on states’ rights and federal authority. That’s more than a history lesson. That’s about being able to hold multiple perspectives in tension, something we all need more practice with in and out of school.
  2. Synthesizing Messages: In the Manifest Destiny lesson, the MiniReport asked students to combine ideas from a traditional textbook and a more critical, modern article. They had to make sense of competing viewpoints and turn it into a coherent written product. That’s the kind of synthesis skill that transfers to writing, speaking, and decision making.
  3. Asking the Right Questions: Wicked Hydra helped students generate their own questions from a provocative headline. We didn’t start with answers – we started with curiosity. That habit of inquiry matters. It helps students know what to ask when things get unclear or when they need to dig deeper, whether it’s in history or real life.
Final Thoughts

When I rack and stack, I’m not just filling time or tossing in a protocol because it’s fun. I’m designing a flow. A lesson that moves students from buiulding background knowledge/retrieval to confident creation – without burning them out along the way.

Even though the topics change, the thinking stays consistent:

  • Start with the goal
  • Build the sequence that supports the right kind of thinking
  • Keep the cognitive load manageable
  • Let students do the heavy lifting, at the right time, with the right support

If you’re just getting into racking and stacking, here’s my best advice:

Start small. Pay attention to the thinking each step requires. And when in doubt, ask: What do I want students to do with their brain next? That’s the question that drives everything I build.