“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.
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.
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?
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.
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):
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:
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.
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.
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.
After years of using EduProtocols, I’ve learned that a few always rise to the top, especially in a year with content to cover, AI to manage, and routines to maintain. These three protocols: Fast and Curious, Number Mania, and Thick Slides became the top 3 EduProtocols I used this year.
It set the tone for class, gave us quick retrieval, and got vocab into students’ brains before they needed to use it in a deeper task. I stuck with Quizizz most days and kept the sets short, tight, and tied directly to our content theme. Played it twice: once cold, once after a fast reteach or class discussion. Bonus if the class average hit our target, they earned 100% in the grade book.
How I used it:
Previewed key terms for units on Colonization, Constitution, Expansion, Industrialization, and Civil War
Included terms like mercantilism, urbanization, checks and balances, sectionalism
Built student buy-in by letting them submit terms to include
Used it mid-lesson when attention dipped or as a quick Friday review
Turned Quizizz class averages into a challenge: beat your Monday score by Friday
Fast and Curious Tip:
You can easily find premade quizzes on Gimkit or Quizizz – simple, easy, ready to go. However, I don’t often do that because they are not worded in a way that I teach or word things. So, I will often take the textbook section of readiongs for the week and upload those to ChatGPT. I have ChatGPT extract vocabulary words and create questions that fit with the content.
Number Mania
This protocol moved from a go to graphic organizer to one of the most powerful thinking routines I used all year.
At first, it was just about identifying meaningful numbers. But it quickly became the tool that helped students back up their claims with evidence, especially when layered into short writing tasks or argument structures.
How I used it:
After short readings on Jamestown survival rates, Revolutionary War casualties, Constitutional compromises, factory wages, and Civil War production
Students pulled 3 – 4 key numbers, paraphrased them, and explained their significance
Paired with icons, AI generated visuals, or short captions
Rolled right into Short Answer responses or “Divide the Pie” arguments
Posted top examples to Padlet and used them as models
The extension that worked best: I started requiring students to use two of their numbers in a Short Answer claim. For example: “Why was the North better positioned to win the Civil War?” They had to cite the railroad mileage, factory output, or population numbers they had just worked with. The writing was better because the thinking was already done.
Bonus variation: AI generated “Truth with Sprinkles” – I gave them a fake paragraph with incorrect numbers, and they had to fix it using their Number Mania notes. Quick, smart, and fun.
Thick Slides
This became my go to for synthesis and creative output.
Students got one slide to make their thinking visual. We used a set structure title, visuals, stat or quote, short summary and it let me see quickly who got the content and who needed help.
How I used it:
Wrapped up content from Colonial Regions, American Revolution, Industrialization, Reform Movements, and Civil War
Assigned AI image generation to visualize abstract concepts or quotes
Had students screenshot their slide and upload it to MagicSchool for feedback
Turned slides into gallery walks or Padlet posts to compare perspectives
The best variation this year: After students created their slide, I had them use it in a Divide the Pie activity. Each student argued which reformer, event, or region had the biggest impact—using only the details from their slide. It forced them to know what they made and defend it.
Final Thought
These three: Fast and Curious, Number Mania, and Thick Slides did more than fill time. They became a rhythm. Retrieval led to analysis. Analysis led to argument. Argument led to creative synthesis. They worked with any unit, played well with AI, and kept students focused.
Let me know if you want copies of my Number Mania prompts, Thick Slide templates, or how I stack these across a full week. Always happy to share.
A kid once turned in an answer to question 3 that just said: “Answers will vary.” It was clearly Googled and lifted from a teacher Weebly page of TCI answer keys.
I looked at it, shook my head, and said, “If you’re going to cheat, at least cheat correctly.” Then I realized the question I asked didn’t require them to think – it just needed Google… or now, from AI.
We’re in a world where students can Google or AI their way through any worksheet. So instead of harder questions, or. ore questions, we need better ones. Questions that actually require students to think, reflect, and decide.
Here’s how I’ve started reworking my questions:
Old Question
Better Version
What caused the American Revolution?
If you were a colonist, which British action would’ve pushed you to rebel—and why?
What did the Great Compromise do?
Which Constitutional compromise matters most today? Defend your choice.
What is Manifest Destiny?
Would you have supported Manifest Destiny in the 1840s? Explain your POV.
What were working conditions like?
Create a pro-factory ad. Then explain what you left out—and why.
What’s federalism?
Draw a symbol of federalism. Explain how it shows two governments sharing power.
These shifts help because AI can explain the facts, but it can’t choose for the student. When students have to justify, reflect, or take a position, it brings their voice into the work. AI might help them brainstorm, but it can’t replace their thinking.
Add Simple Reflection
Asking better questions helps, but building in quick metacognition takes it further. Here are 3 go-to prompts I use:
“What was the hardest part of this task—and how did you deal with it?”
“What part of your answer are you most confident in?”
“What changed your thinking today?”
Nothing over the top, just 1–2 sentences. We do it after Sketch & Tell-o, Thick Slides, Number Mania, or a writing task. It keeps the focus on how they thought, not just what they said.
Focus on the Process
During our Industrialization unit, I gave students a fake, rosy paragraph about factory life. Instead of writing something new, I had them revise it using evidence from our Number Mania activity (factory rules, fines, wages, etc.). The magic happened in the follow up: “What did you change—and why?”
That’s where I got real thinking. Students weren’t just reporting facts. They were spotting spin, making decisions, and defending edits. That’s process.
Final Thought
If a chatbot can do the assignment better than your students, it’s time to change the assignment. Ask questions that need them. Build in time to reflect on the how, not just the what. Focus less on “finishing” and more on thinking out loud.
And when you start making these shifts, it’s eye-opening to see how much students have been relying on Google or AI to get by. The shortcuts get exposed, but so does the opportunity to help them become real thinkers.
There’s a growing perception in classrooms that when feedback or grading comes from AI, it feels less human. Students sometimes see it as impersonal, maybe a sign that the teacher doesn’t care. And to be honest? That feeling isn’t entirely wrong.
Part of good feedback is relationship. The tone, the nuance, the “I see you” moments that students pick up on when a teacher scribbles a star or writes “Nice!” in the margin. AI doesn’t do that. It can’t. So when students say it feels different, we should listen.
But here’s the other side of the story: AI feedback doesn’t have to replace the human part. AI can free us up to be more human. Instead of spending hours hand-marking spelling errors or rewriting the same comment over and over, teachers can let AI handle the routine, and then use class time for real conversations: mini-conferences, revision chats, side-by-side re-reads.
Some ways to make AI feel more human in your feedback loop:
Let students co-pilot: Have them ask AI for feedback and critique the response. Was it accurate? Helpful? What would they change?
Add a human layer: Record a short audio note responding to AI’s comments or add a sticky note that says “This is solid, especially that last sentence!”
Use AI as the start, not the end: “Here’s what the AI noticed, now let’s talk about what I noticed.”
In the end, AI can feel less human. But when we use it alongside teacher insight, not instead of it, it can lead to more feedback, more revision, and more meaningful learning.
Maybe it’s not about choosing between care and AI, it’s about using AI to create more space for care.
Sometimes, teaching history means peeling back the layers. Literally.
It was late in the year, and I just wanted to mix things up. We’d been hitting heavy content, and I needed something different—not easier, just… different.
So I asked AI to help.
We were covering the Lincoln-Douglas debates—a pivotal moment tied to the expansion of slavery and the rise of the Republican Party. I pasted a section of our textbook into ChatGPT and gave it a twist: “Rewrite this reading. Keep all the key facts. But embed five subtle clues to an object: an orange. Don’t name it. Just hide it.”
The clues?
wedge
sections
bitter
peel
squeeze
But here’s the thing—I didn’t tell the students that. I left the rewritten passage with the sub, followed by the usual reading questions. No mention of any mystery. No hint that something fun was coming.
Only after they answered the questions did I drop the surprise: A Padlet link with the challenge. “Based on the clues in the reading, what mystery object do you think I was thinking of? Add your guess. Then explain how it connects to a country being pulled apart by the issue of slavery.”
To make it more interesting—and to avoid copycat answers—I changed the Padlet settings to manual approval. No one could see each other’s guesses.
And just like that, reading became a puzzle. The guesses poured in: a violin? a broken flag? a lemon zest? And then came the ones that nailed it: an orange.
Their follow-up explanations were exactly what I hoped for:
“The country was in wedges, pulling away from the center.”
“There were different sections that couldn’t stay together.”
“Once you peel it, you can’t undo it.”
“Everyone was getting squeezed from both sides.”
That day, the students didn’t just complete another textbook reading. They investigated. They connected. They created a metaphor.
Why This Works: This isn’t fluff. It’s curiosity-driven, metaphor-based reading that builds real skills. Here’s the breakdown:
Choose a reading worth understanding deeply.
Pick an everyday object that metaphorically fits the moment.
Use AI to embed 4–6 subtle clues.
Let students read and respond as usual.
Then drop the mystery object twist: guess and explain the metaphor.
It turns reading into a mystery. It turns metaphor into meaning. It turns a late-year lesson into something different because we all need that during this time of year.
The first time a student told me, “This sounds smart, but I don’t think it’s right,” in response to an AI-generated answer—I knew we were onto something.
That moment sparked Fray-I—a thinking routine I’ve been developing to help students analyze AI responses, not just accept them. It’s still a work in progress, but it’s already changing how my students interact with both history and technology.
Here’s the flow:
Students engage with content – a primary source, textbook excerpt, or short video.
They ask a question based on the reading or viewing—either one they create or one I provide (especially if the source leaves something unanswered or unclear).
They run that question through an AI tool like ChatGPT or MagicSchool.
They get a response and analyze/evaluate.
Here’s what Fray-I looks like:
Claim: What is the AI saying? What’s the main idea or argument?
Evidence Used: What support, facts, or examples does it include?
What’s Missing?: What voices, perspectives, or key historical context are left out?
Push It Further: How could this answer be stronger? More accurate? More complete? Would you use this response?
This turns AI into the text—not the shortcut. Students question the bot like they would a biased newspaper article, a government document, or a historical speech.
Why Fray-I works:
It puts students in the driver’s seat. They’re not copying—they’re critiquing.
It reinforces essential social studies skills: sourcing, bias, perspective, and evidence-based reasoning.
It meets students where they are—working with the tools they’re already curious about.
And honestly? The engagement is different. When students start noticing what the AI got wrong, what it ignored, or how it could be improved, they feel ownership.
Fray-I isn’t finished. I’m still tweaking sentence starters and scaffolds to support all learners. But it’s already doing what I hoped: Helping students think like historians in a world where information is instant—but not always insightful.
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.
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.
Today, I ran a new Rack and Stack using some familiar EduProtocols but with a fresh flow. The whole lesson was built around this opening statement: “The Lowell Mill Girls had an extraordinary opportunity.” That one sentence carried us through the entire class. I wanted students to come back to it over and over again, thinking critically about whether or not it was actually true.
Here is the flow:
Fast and Curious
EdPuzzle with Thin Slide
Number Mania
Nacho Paragraph with Short Answer
Starting with Vocabulary: Fast and Curious
We began with a Gimkit Fast and Curious. I pulled vocab straight from the lesson—boardinghouse, wage, petition, strike, shift. It’s honestly surprising how many words kids just don’t know anymore. I can’t assume anything. The most missed were boardinghouse, petition, and shift. After two rounds with some feedback in between, their accuracy shot up. We had a solid foundation for the rest of class.
EdPuzzle with a Thin Slide Twist
Next up was a 4-minute EdPuzzle about the Lowell Mill Girls. I embedded a Thin Slide with the same opening statement—did this video support it or not? Some kids thought it did, to a point. The video showed that the girls got paid and had housing, but others quickly pointed out the poor conditions and low wages. The Thin Slide was great for capturing those first reactions and making them back it up.
Number Mania with a Purpose
Then we hit the main chunk of the lesson—Number Mania. I had originally planned 6 stations, each with primary and secondary sources about different aspects of mill life. But after a dry run and thinking about cognitive load (shoutout to Blake Harvard’s book), I trimmed it to 4 stations. That made a huge difference.
The task was to find numerical evidence to refute the original statement. Of course, we had to go over the word “refute” first. That word shows up on the Ohio state test, and about 90% of my students didn’t know what it meant. Each station had a brief source. After reading, students picked a number that could be used to argue against the idea that the Lowell Mill Girls had some amazing opportunity. I rolled dice to determine how many words their explanation had to be. That added a fun twist and helped prevent kids from copying straight from the text. They had to think.
Short Answer + Nacho Paragraph
The finale was awesome. I pulled up Short Answer and ran it Battle Royale style using the Nacho Paragraph protocol. Each student copied and pasted the original statement and rewrote it, fixing it using the numerical evidence from the Number Mania. Their job was to refute the original sentence with facts. It brought everything together perfectly.
Short Answer gave them a sense of audience, let them see others’ responses, and motivated them to write better. They knew their classmates would see it, and that made all the difference.
Why This Worked
This lesson flowed. It began and ended with the same prompt, but by the time we got to the end, students had real evidence and a better understanding of both the content and how to structure their thinking. It wasn’t just about mill life—it was about challenging assumptions, reading multiple types of sources, interpreting data, using key vocab, and writing for a real purpose.
I also liked that I was able to scale the cognitive load. The vocab and EdPuzzle built some schema. The stations weren’t too long, and the dice kept the kids engaged. The writing had structure. Every part had purpose.
It’s not always about doing something big and flashy. Sometimes it’s about connecting pieces in a way that feels meaningful and builds momentum. Today, it worked.
Moler's Musings 