Tag: life

Quick Thoughts

Is My Lesson a Grecian Urn? (And Why I Keep Asking Myself That)

Every so often, I go back and reread a blog post called Is Your Lesson a Grecian Urn? (It’s a great post from th Cult of Pedagogy). I’ve shared it in PD sessions, sent it to colleagues, and maybe most importantly, used it to check myself when I start planning something that’s more “fun” than it is valuable.

The first time I read it, it hit me like a well-placed serve in the ribs. Not all hands on learning is actually learning. We can wrap balloons in papier-mâché, make the prettiest PowerPoints, and check all the “engagement” boxes, but if it doesn’t move students forward in skills and understanding, it’s not much more than a time filler.

Why This Sticks With Me

I’ve been guilty of the Grecian Urn approach before. We all have. It’s so easy to fall into the trap of thinking, If they’re busy and smiling, they’re learning. But the truth is, smiles and productivity don’t always equal mastery. A “creative” project can still live in the lowest levels of Bloom’s Taxonomy if the thinking stops at remembering and regurgitating.

That’s why I like the Grecian Urn metaphor. It’s not anti-fun or anti-creative. It’s a gut check: Is the time spent on this task proportional to the learning it produces?

How I Use the Lesson

When I read the original post, I started doing a little mental math while lesson planning:

  • If students spend 3 days making something, what exactly will they be able to do with that knowledge after?
  • Could we hit the same learning target in a day with a tighter, more purposeful activity?
  • Am I grading for content, or for how “cute” or “neat” the final product looks?

This isn’t about stripping away every bit of creativity. It’s about making sure the creativity supports the learning, not overshadows it.

My Takeaway for Teachers

Here’s where I’ve landed:

  • If it’s for learning, make sure the heavy lift is in the thinking, not the decorating.
  • If it’s for fun or sanity, own that and don’t pretend it’s something it’s not.
  • If it’s a Grecian Urn, you can either cut it or tweak it until it’s doing real academic work.

The reason I keep going back to this blog post is because it reminds me that time is my most valuable classroom currency. Every minute students spend should have a clear connection to what I want them to know or be able to do. And if we can make it meaningful and enjoyable, that’s the sweet spot.

Things That Shaped me

Things That Shaped Me: The Game That Taught Me More Than Winning Ever Could

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.

Quick Thoughts

Things I Wonder

14 years in.

I wonder if I can do this the next 20 years.

Middle. School. Social. Studies. Teacher.

My goodness.

I often wonder if I’m doing things in the best way…

  • Am I challenging students enough?
  • Am I meeting everyone’s needs?
  • Do my policies fall in line with school-wide policies?
  • Is it a bad practice that I accept work anytime without a late penalty?
  • Is it bad practice that I let a certain student sleep in class because they need to?
  • Is it bad practice that I don’t keep track of tardies and simply say, “Glad you’re here?”
  • Is it wrong that I hand out candy just because I want to? Should I only save it for a reward?
  • Is it bad practice that I refuse to use a textbook and hodgepodge my own stuff together?
  • Should I fall in line and lecture more? Use more worksheets? Use a more structured way of teaching?
  • I wonder if I’m too far outside the norm, or if the norm just isn’t what’s best for kids.
  • I wonder if I should care more about test scores or if the real success lies in the moments when a kid says, “That actually makes sense now.”
  • I wonder if the things I let slide—like a kid putting their head down because they didn’t sleep the night before—are the things they’ll remember most about my class.
  • I wonder if my flexibility in deadlines is preparing them for the real world or if I’m just making their lives a little easier because I know life is already hard enough.
  • I wonder if some of the things I do that aren’t “best practice” are actually the best practices for the kids in my room.I wonder if the lesson I spent hours planning will even land the way I hope it will—or if the thing they’ll remember is the random conversation about history that had nothing to do with my slides.
  • I wonder if I should stop worrying so much about whether what I do fits into a neat little box and just keep focusing on what works.

Because at the end of the day, I wonder if the real question isn’t “Am I doing this the right way?” but instead “Am I doing right by my students?”

And as long as the answer is yes, I think I’ll keep going.