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.
This week’s theme was “A Nation Prepares for War,” and I’ll be honest—I ran out of time. I really wanted to get into Reconstruction, but I refuse to gloss over material just to say I “covered” it. If I’m going to teach something, I’m going to do a thorough, intentional job. Otherwise, what’s the point?
It’s been a tough week. So I started Monday with something easy. Low prep. Low stress. But still effective.
We kicked off with a Gimkit that I ran twice—once for warm-up and once after feedback. It was packed with vocab and content-based questions: secession, sectionalism, Lincoln’s election, states’ rights, etc. A quick way to reactivate prior knowledge and see what stuck from last week.
Next, we jumped into a Thin Slide activity on Padlet. The prompt: Why did the South secede? I gave them a short reading to skim and told them to pick one word or phrase and one image that represented the core reason. But what made this one different was how we used AI.
Instead of finding an image, students used Padlet’s AI image generator. They entered a short phrase, made it their caption, and used the body of the post to explain what their image represented. That move—credit to the students—was gold. It made the captions matter. It made the explanations more thoughtful. And it gave them a creative outlet that still demanded analysis.
We wrapped the day with a blank map—labeling Union, Confederate, and Border States. I’ll admit, I don’t usually like blank maps. But sometimes the brain just needs a break. This was the break. A little coloring. A little labeling. Still purposeful, but low cognitive load to help everyone ease back in.
Tuesday – Sides of the Civil War
Tuesday’s lesson focused on understanding the advantages of each side heading into the Civil War. I kept it simple and familiar because I’m a big believer in reusing quality material when it works.
We started by running the same Gimkit again—this time as a Fast and Curious. The repetition wasn’t just for review—it was to reinforce accuracy and let students feel some early success. Their scores went up, and they felt it.
After that, students completed a Number Mania based on a short reading about Union advantages. The prompt was direct: Why did the Union have an advantage over the Confederacy in the Civil War?
Their task:
Include 4 numbers from the reading with paraphrased explanations
Add icons or images that helped visualize the data
Give it a title
Keep it clean, clear, and creative
This was a solid way to push students beyond just copying facts. They had to decide what numbers mattered and explain why.
We wrapped the day with a short EdPuzzle covering the four major battles: Fort Sumter, Gettysburg, Vicksburg, and Appomattox Courthouse. It was a simple close to the day, but effective. The video reinforced the bigger picture—how the war escalated, where it turned, and how it ended.
Wednesday & Thursday – Why Did People Fight?
This was the heart of the week, and it spanned two days. We started both days with a Quizizz for retrieval practice—Fast and Curious format again.
Then came the layered lesson. Students read a series of primary and secondary sources about different groups in the war: Union soldiers, Confederate soldiers, Black soldiers, and women. Afterward, they submitted four reasons for fighting through a Google Form.
Here’s where AI came in: I fed their responses into ChatGPT and asked it to create six categories based on student submissions. These included things like defending homeland, fighting for freedom, or protecting rights. I shared these categories back with the class.
From there, students completed a Divide the Pie activity:
Choose 5 of the 6 motivations
Assign each a percentage based on how influential they believed it was
Justify their thinking with specific details
It was reflective. It was writing-heavy. It worked.
Students weren’t just reciting facts—they were categorizing, weighing, and defending ideas. This is exactly what we need more of.
Friday – Wrapping Up the Theme with Netflix and Retrieval
Friday’s goal was simple: wrap up our “A Nation Prepares for War” theme and give students a creative outlet to show what they’d learned. We started with one last round of our Quizizz fast and curious—same questions from earlier in the week, but now serving as a final review. The ALL-class average was 85%, which was awesome, especially considering the quiz covered three weeks’ worth of content.
Next up: the Netflix template. I used an old template I’d saved (no idea where it originally came from), but it always works because it looks like an actual Netflix series layout. That visual hook alone helps students lock in.
The success criteria came straight from the yellow arrows in the template:
Slide 1: Series title, image, and a 3–4 sentence summary. They had to explain the division of states, why the South seceded, Fort Sumter, and reasons people were willing to fight.
Slide 2: Three creative episode titles—each tied to a big idea from our unit. Each episode needed a 2–4 sentence summary explaining the problem, the response, and the result.
To finish, I created a Magic School classroom for writing feedback. Students uploaded screenshots of their slides and received quick AI feedback. We had great conversations about the suggestions—what to take, what to ignore, and why. It’s not about AI replacing thinking; it’s about helping students reflect and revise.
This was a great way to end the theme. Students retrieved information, created something meaningful, and got instant feedback to grow their thinking. Simple. Structured. Creative. The way learning should be.
This week in 234, we stacked a lot of learning into five days—Fast & Curious, Frayer Models, Mini Reports, Short Answer Battle Royales, and even a Netflix-themed summative. We used Thin Slides and AI tools like MagicSchool to keep thinking sharp and feedback immediate. Students worked through compromises, created empathy maps, asked hard questions, and wrapped it all up with creative final products. Every day had a clear task, a familiar structure, and a chance to show what they knew in a new way.
I wasn’t at school Monday, but I still wanted the lesson to move thinking forward. This was the day to bridge the gap between our work on reform—especially abolitionism—and the new unit on the causes of the Civil War. I didn’t want it to feel like two separate things. I wanted students to start seeing the threads.
I started them with an EdPuzzle on the causes of the Civil War. This was more of a primer than anything—just to introduce key ideas like sectionalism, states’ rights, and slavery as a cause, not a side detail. From there, they jumped into a vocabulary Quizizz to build some retrieval around terms like secession, abolitionist, compromise, and conflict. The goal was to give them some anchors before diving deeper later in the week.
Next, students read a short piece on the Abolitionist Movement. The reading focused on how individuals and laws pushed against slavery in different ways—through writing, escape networks, and protest. They answered four questions in complete sentences, which gave structure without overloading them. This is always a key decision I think about when I’m not there: clarity over complexity.
Finally, they went to a Padlet where they shared two things they learned and responded to the big question: “What was the cause of the Civil War?” That question, in one form or another, is going to guide us the next couple weeks. And I wanted them thinking about it early—even if their answer was rough.
None of it was flashy, but it had purpose. It helped me set up our three guiding themes for the unit:
Compromises Can’t Solve Slavery
A Nation Divides
Getting Ready for War
The best part is it gave them space to revisit old knowledge and preview new ideas—and when I returned Tuesday, they were ready to build.
Tuesday/Wednesday: The Missouri Compromise
Our theme this week was “Compromises Can’t Solve Slavery,” and this lesson focused on the Missouri Compromise.
We opened with a Quizizz for vocabulary and retrieval—terms like “compromise,” “balance,” and “slave vs. free states.” I originally planned to use a Frayer Model for the word “compromise,” but students already demonstrated understanding on Quizizz, so I cut it. Real-time data helps guide what stays and what goes.
Then we jumped into Upside Down Learning (from EMC2Learning), scaffolded with three categories: Cause, Conflict, and Compromise. Above the line, students charted accurate info from the Missouri Compromise reading. Below the line, they created an alternate reality—what if Missouri hadn’t joined as a slave state? What if no compromise had happened? It’s a quick way to push thinking to higher levels of Bloom’s—synthesis and evaluation.
Next came a task I call Fray-I. I wanted students to ask a question that the reading didn’t answer. Then, using MagicSchool’s Raina AI, they typed in their question and completed a Frayer-style evaluation:
What was the main idea of the AI’s response?
Did it use evidence?
Was anything missing?
Would you trust this response?
We ended with an Empathy Map based on two primary sources—one from a Northerner and one from a Southerner debating slavery in the West. After reading, students chose one voice and filled out an empathy map to process their perspective.
Why this worked: It hit different levels—retrieval, evaluation, synthesis. The tasks built on each other and helped students understand compromise not just as a definition, but as a broken fix in a broken system.
And AI wasn’t just an “add-on”—it was a skill. Ask. Analyze. Evaluate.
Thursday – Caption Crunch
Thursday was all about keeping the cognitive load low—but not the learning. I’m running out of days before testing hits, and I knew I had to get both the Compromise of 1850 and the Kansas-Nebraska Act into one lesson. Normally, I’d spread those out. But I’ve learned that reducing the number of tasks while still keeping the thinking high is one way to keep the load manageable. It’s not just about what content you include—it’s also about how you deliver it.
We started with a Fast and Curious on Quizizz. Same core theme questions we’ve been hitting: compromise, slavery, and failure. It got them thinking quickly and primed for the day’s work.
Then we jumped into our Mini-Report. The layout was intentional—students had to compare both compromises side-by-side, using two half-page readings. I’ve found that the Mini-Report structure helps students stay focused, especially when they’ve seen it before. Familiarity builds confidence, and confidence keeps engagement up.
Before we read, I ran an EdPuzzle—some classes did it live, others on their own. I had them write down just one detail from the video to get them warmed up. That’s it. Just one. No overkill, no worksheet—just purposeful priming.
After that, we read and filled in the Mini-Report. No full sentences. Just paraphrased notes to get them processing.
Once they had their facts, we jumped into Short Answer for a Battle Royale. The question: “How did the Compromise of 1850 and the Kansas-Nebraska Act try to solve the issue of slavery, and why didn’t they work?” Students competed for a donut. It sounds silly, but they wrote their asses off. Because there was structure. Because it mattered.
We wrapped up with something new I called Caption Crunch. I set up a Padlet with columns and gave students captions that connected to one of the three compromises we’ve studied. Their task: take the caption, add keywords, and plug it into Padlet’s AI image generator. Then, they posted their AI-generated image and explained in 2–3 sentences which compromise it represented and how the image reflected what happened. The captions were generated by AI, but the decisions and connections were all theirs.
I think Caption Crunch has potential to be an EduProtocol. It pushed students to think symbolically, creatively, and critically about each compromise. And it added another layer of retrieval and review without feeling like “just more reading.” It can be used across all grade levels and content areas.
It was one of those days that felt packed, but purposeful. Everything flowed. Everything clicked. And the kids were into it. That’s what matters.
Friday
Friday was all about wrapping up our first theme—“Compromises Can’t Solve Slavery”—and giving students a chance to pull everything together in a creative way. We kicked off with one final round of the same Quizizz we’d been using all week. And yes, I had to play the game. I told them: If your class average is below 80%, you’re creating more work for yourselves. If it’s above 90%, everyone gets a 100%. It’s ridiculous that I have to do that, but here we are.
One class came in at 70%. Honestly? Unbelievable. We’ve been doing this same Quizizz set every day. So that class had to do a three-way Venn diagram comparing the Missouri Compromise, Compromise of 1850, and Kansas-Nebraska Act. The other classes finished at 87%, 83%, and 80%—so they moved on to the main activity: the Netflix Template.
This is one of my favorite creative assessments. I’ve had this template forever—I can’t even remember where I got it—but it’s sharp. Looks like a real Netflix series and pushes students to synthesize in a unique way. Here was the success criteria:
Slide 1:
Series Title
A 3–4 sentence summary connecting the compromises and showing how they represent failure
Slide 2:
Creative episode titles (one per compromise)
A short summary that explains:
What the compromise tried to fix
What actually happened
Any relevant key terms (Fugitive Slave Act, Bleeding Kansas, etc.)
A thumbnail image, cast list (Henry Clay as “The Great Compromiser”), and a content warning
I also created a MagicSchool classroom where students could attach their Netflix slides and get writing feedback. I like that part because it’s easy to set up and it lets students take some ownership. Some kids were tweaking titles, some were improving explanations, and some were learning how to actually use Google Slides better.
That part is underrated. I had students asking, “How do I layer these images?” or “How do I crop this picture into a shape?” and I got to teach them real tech skills while they were working through content. So yeah, it wasn’t just about summarizing compromises—it was about learning how to design, write, and revise creatively.
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.
This week was about layering, connecting, and getting students to own the content—not just memorize it. Every protocol, every sequence was designed to move students from basic retrieval to deeper understanding without overwhelming them.
Nothing fancy. Nothing over the top. Just intentional teaching.
Monday kicked off our Abolitionist Movement work. I always try to bring in local figures like Harriet Beecher Stowe, John Rankin, and James G. Birney alongside Frederick Douglass, Sarah Grimké, and William Lloyd Garrison. Students need to see the local connection—that history didn’t just happen “out there.”
We started with a Thin Slide: “Change begins when someone refuses to stay silent.” One picture. One word or phrase. Fast. Immediate. It set the tone for the day—thinking about voice, action, and courage.
Then we jumped into a short EdPuzzle. It wasn’t to “teach” the content—it was just to jog memories and fill in some quick context before they picked an abolitionist to dive deeper into.
The Thick Slide was the real meat of the day: Each student chose one abolitionist and built a slide that included:
A short background
Their motivations for ending slavery
The methods they used (writings, speeches, helping people escape, etc.)
One powerful quote or moment that showed who they were
This wasn’t just copying facts—it was asking students to curate what mattered.
After they shared, classmates used a Frayer Model to capture the background, methods, and motivations for four abolitionists.
Why I sequenced it this way:
Thin Slide to frame the emotional/critical thinking lens
EdPuzzle for quick retrieval
Thick Slide to produce and contribute
Frayer to actively listen, gather, and process others’ work
Every move had a purpose: students weren’t just learning about abolitionists—they were seeing patterns of activism.
Tuesday: Finishing Abolition With Superlatives
Tuesday was another strange day because of science OST testing.
We opened with a Fast and Curious on Quizizz. Nothing complicated—just another layer of retrieval on the same reform movement content:
Words like suffrage, reform, abolitionism, and goals of different movements
Then we finished Monday’s work with a Superlatives activity (shoutout to Kim Voge). Students had to pick 2–3 abolitionists and apply superlatives like Most Courageous, Most Determined, Most Visionary, etc.
At first, I had them tie it back to the Thin Slide quote from Monday…but after first period, I realized that overwhelmed them. So I pivoted and just let them focus on the superlatives.
After students completed the Superlatives, they used Magic School’s writing feedback tool to add in ideas. They took a screenshot, attached the screenshot to the feedback tool, and generated feedback. It led to discussions of evaluating feedback and choosing to pay attention to the feedback that matters.
Why this worked:
Fast and Curious warmed them up with retrieval
Superlatives required them to compare, judge, and defend choices
It wasn’t just recalling facts—it was applying understanding
The pivot mattered. Sometimes you have to drop something mid-day when you realize it’s not helping kids think better.
Wednesday: Thinking on My Feet With Real-World Skills
Wednesday was a little chaotic—still on the weird science testing schedule. Some classes finished their superlatives and quizzes early, and I knew I needed something meaningful that wasn’t just busy work.
I thought back to a Friday Check-In I ran months ago: “If I could teach you anything besides social studies, what would you want to learn?”
The most common answer? – Jobs. Taxes.How to get a job.
So I threw together a quick, no-internet-needed lesson:
Started with a Google Form:
What’s more important—skills or attitude?
Would you hire yourself right now?
Number Mania on Padlet:
What are two labor laws that surprised you?
I shared a quick story about my first job working clay tennis courts—how doing the little things no one asked for got me better hours and more money.
Why this worked:
It was personal.
It was relevant.
It used EduProtocols (Number Mania + fast reflection) in a real-world context.
The best moments come when you connect content to what actually matters for students’ futures.
Thursday: Connecting Abolition and Women’s Rights (with Purposeful AI)
Thursday was all about tying movements together—and introducing AI not as a shortcut, but as a thinking partner.
Our goal: Understand how the Abolitionist and Women’s Rights movements were connected—and why they eventually split apart.
The flow:
Opened with a Google Form to prime thinking: Where do you see connections? Where could you see division?
Annotate & Tell: Students read a short article and answered four guiding questions that helped them think about motivations, conflicts, and context.
Then came the AI part—and this was intentional:
Students used MagicSchool ChatBot Raina to ask a question about the reading. I did not preload the ChatBot with any extra information.
They had to paraphrase the AI response
Then they had to evaluate it:
Was it accurate?
Was anything missing?
How could it have been better?
This wasn’t just “use AI.” This wasn’t generate ideas and copy. It was: engage with AI, challenge it, think critically about it.
We closed it all with a Short Answer Battle Royale: Explain how the two movements were connected.
Why this worked:
The Google Form opened thinking.
Annotate & Tell slowed down reading.
AI added reflection, metacognition, and sourcing conversations.
Short Answer forced a full-sentence, evidence-based response.
AI wasn’t a crutch. It was a springboard for better thinking.
Friday: Wrapping Reform With Solo Iron Chef
Friday was about pulling everything together.
We started with a Fast and Curious on Quizizz (class averages were solid: 83%–90%) to hit key reform concepts one last time.
Then, students completed two Solo Iron Chef slides:
I set the timer for 15 minutes per slide. Students had to screenshot their work and use MagicSchool to get AI feedback on it. And again—the feedback conversations were the best part. A student said, “The AI said to change my title but I made mine rhyme and I like it.” I said, “Then why listen to it? It’s a tool—not the truth. You know your purpose better than the AI does.”
When AI first came out, I was intrigued. I started thinking of ways to use it creatively to help me. Ways to boost engagement. Ways to support learning. I was the guy making presentations with titles like “10 Ways to Use ChatGPT in Class” or “5 Ways to Increase Engagement with AI.” And those were useful—at the time.
But we’re past that now.
AI is here. It’s constantly evolving. It’s inevitable. Students will use it. So I’ve been trying to use it with them—not just for me. I’ve been using MagicSchool to help kids generate ideas, model how to write prompts, and get personalized feedback. I’ve shown them how to paraphrase AI-generated content instead of copying it. I’ve trying to show them to to analyze the content AI spits out. I’ve used Class Companion to give them feedback on writing, hoping they’ll read it and revise.
Some do.
Some don’t.
Some use it to improve. Some copy and paste. Some avoid it entirely and insist on thinking for themselves. Some don’t engage at all. It’s like a mini snapshot of society—some are all-in, some resisting, some just watching.
The real question now is: How do we use AI meaningfully? How do we turn it into a thought partner—not a shortcut?
Here are two ways I’ve started doing that in class:
Use AI to Practice the Process, Not Just Produce the Product One of the most effective ways I’ve used AI in class is to treat it as a starting point, not the final product. I have students use AI to generate a response, then paraphrase it in their own words, critique what’s missing, and decide what they’d keep or change. This process helps them engage with the content, reflect on their own thinking, and develop stronger writing and reasoning skills. Whether it’s analyzing a historical event or building an argument, the focus is always on using AI to support the learning—not replace it.
Evaluate the Feedback Itself One thing I do regularly: students create a slide summarizing their thinking, screenshot it, and upload it to MagicSchool. AI gives feedback, but here’s the key—they don’t just revise based on it. They evaluate it. Was it helpful? Confusing? Did it miss the point entirely? This makes feedback a thinking task. It gives students the power to decide what advice is worth using—and what isn’t. They’re not blindly following directions; they’re making choices. That’s real learning.
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.
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.
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.
Moler's Musings 