The Post-it Disruption

I took this picture last Friday, at the end of a 90-minute lesson with one of my Grade 9 Humanities classes. Needless to say, I am usually disapproving of students leaving a mess behind them, but this time it was different. This picture represents the strenuous thinking process that my 14 students have been exposed to over the course of the last two weeks.

Before, discussing Friday’s class, I ought to put it into context first. This population unit, which is currently being explored by both Grade 9 Humanities classes, embraces both the MYP and PBL educational philosophy. In addressing the unit question, “when is population a problem?” learners are required formulate a research question that addresses a real-world problem to a target audience.  

While my students are not new to the idea of addressing a real-world audience, this is the first time that they are being given such autonomy; hence, when I shared this assignment with my classes, two weeks ago, I was fully aware of the initial discomfort they would inevitably experience. As one of my students suggested, this would “be hard because we do not simply have to follow instructions. We have to come up with the whole plan.”

 Student Sample Work

Due to some scheduling conflicts, I was able to avail myself of a one-time, out of the ordinary, five-hour Humanities period with both of my classes, simultaneously. Students would use this time to come up with a research question and write down a proposal that would have to be approved. I strongly believe that students benefit from having ample time to delve uninterruptedly into one task. Prior to this, students had been exposed to introductory activities that evolved around the unique characteristics of concepts and the formulation of meaningful research questions (or so I thought). During this lengthy chunk of time, I gave feedback to my students and could attest student engagement. 

At the end of the week, as I went through my students' proposals (and approved most all of them), I felt bolstered by what had been, until then, a smooth sailing and rewarding experience. This was indeed the calm before the storm.  

During the last months, I've read various inspiring books and articles about innovation in education. They all seem to agree on one essential factor: Paradigm shifts in the classroom don’t come easy. Unlike more traditional teacher-driven pedagogies, student-driven education is non-linear; therefore, both students and teachers are vulnerable to unpredictability. I experienced first hand this vulnerability when I realized that the some of those same research questions that I had so enthusiastically approved only a week earlier, were in fact too broad.

I must admit that I have underestimated how challenging it would be to guide students through their research questions. On one hand, students are required to identify a problem relating to population; however, the teacher has to poke students in the right direction. After discussing this with my MYP coordinator, I realized that I had unwittingly mislead my students who had by then already started their research stage. For instance, one of my students had come up with this research question:

         What are the environmental implications of overpopulation?

While this question might seem appropriate at a first glance because it incorporates important concepts such as sustainability, overpopulation and depletion, it is way too broad to be effectively addressed. Environmental implications include a wide range of ecosystems ranging from deserts to glaciers. It is unrealistic to address effectively all of these questions in the same research.

So two weeks into this project, I had to concede that I had rushed into accepting some of my students’ proposals and explained this candidly to them. So, we placed all the research questions around the class and we gave each other feedback. The MYP coordinator also chimed in. Stacks of post-it notes were decimated in minutes, but the room was buzzing with activity. Together, we indentified important components that make research questions focused and clear such as the manageability and the specificity. 

One of my classes was able to modify their questions easily whereas my second class of 14, mentioned at the beginning of this article, struggled. I saw students who are usually confident and poised experience frustration and uncertainty for the first time. Some students decided to scrap their original research. They realized that, even though their questions sounded elaborate and specific, they simply weren't manageable. For instance, one student was looking at how population density affects urbanization in Lima. This would not have been manageable since the answer is simple: it does not in Lima. So some students had to go back to the drawing board and think harder.

At the end of this class, I had mixed feelings. On one hand, I felt responsible because I had misguided my students by approving some of their broad and unmanageable research questions; however, this experience was also reassuring. Aren’t students, after all, experiencing real-world challenges? They are experiencing first-hand the essential role that trial and error plays in the accomplishment meaningful outcomes. Students are truly immersed in this project because they feel ownership. As they do this, they are adapting to unforeseen scenarios and striving to come up with creative problem-solving. 

My role as a facilitator is to learn from my own mistakes and be there for my students. This past weekend, I was able to Skype with some of them and bounce off ideas. As a result, we are now back on track with a better plan and an extension to our set deadline. Today, some students chose to stay back, after school, to work for two solid hours on their project. These kids have indeed accepted the challenge and are rising to the occasion. 

As I reflect on these past two weeks, it becomes unmistakably clear why we teachers tend to hesitate to give up control. This is daunting to us because as soon as we give up control to implement more student-led projects, the latter become our "equals" and we become more prone to failing and looking vulnerable in their eyes. Giving up control is disruptive and we cease to be infallible. This thought process is understandable, but we need to strive to get of of our comfort zone. 

I'm choosing to give up control because this is the only way forward. Back in the day, I was told that I had follow instructions if I wanted to be a successful citizen of the world. This has shaped me deeply and it has taken me years to learn how to trust my own judgement and be my own problem-solver. Following instructions does not get you so far when you lack independence and curiosity.

Finally, I choose to give up control because I believe in genuine professional growth. This experience has been truly a learning curve for both myself and the students. This IS my professional development; it is organic because there are no scripts and most importantly no contrived agendas; I am learning with and from my students as we break away from the old school thinking in the search of real-world contexts.