I am a Teach First History participant who is currently teaching at school on the south-east coast. Working here has been an eye opener to what could be in education, and ultimately, what currently is not.
These are my own views, for what they are worth.
September arrived relatively quickly. Although I felt prepared (the Teach First Summer was a whirlwind of pedagogy), I was no where near ready. Nonetheless, I began teaching with two preconceived notions about education; these principles I believed to be the cornerstone of effective practice and fundamental in promoting progress:
- Students who can be engaged will understand, thus allowing them to learn and make progress.
- To engage children (which, as mentioned above, I believed to be vital in allowing students to learn) teachers must find ways of conveying content in a imaginative way that attracts attention so that they can discover knowledge.
At the time, this seemed obvious to me; children need to have fun in order to learn. To be an ‘outstanding’ teacher it’s about being creative and thinking outside the box.
How wrong I was.
I soon learned that these methods, otherwise known as a constructivism, may sound inspiration and desirable, but are by no means effective. Much has already been made about the value of traditional teaching in contrast to the limitations of progressive theories, primarily in numerous blogs by Joe Kirby, David Didau, Robert Peal, among others. Equally, Daisy Christodoulou’s Seven Myths About Education successfully debunked common ideas that underpin constructivist theory.
Instead, I soon found that ‘learning’ is not the same as ‘doing’. Having previously spent time thinking of, and creating, activities that involved dramatics and investigation, I turned my attention to knowledge. I still contend that engagement is important; but this should not be confused with ‘entertainment’. Students are incredibly engaged by knowledge. As a History teacher, I believe that the past is fascinating- why should I need to dress this content up, both figuratively and literally (I had seen role play as a valid part of teaching History), when the subject is so engaging in itself?
The alternative is rewarding for two reasons: First, students become passionate about the subject itself, not just the activity. Second: knowledge unlocks capabilities that pupil’s never realised they had. A primary example of this was during a pilot that I completed alongside two colleagues, who equally value direct instruction and knowledge-based learning. I compared two Year 7 units of work: King John, which was taught in a constructivist way, and the Black Death which was taught in a didactic way. In the former, students were engaged by watching a Disney adaptation and ‘analysing’ the validity of it. Using my two former principles of learning, this should have worked a treat. The film gained the attention of all students, and I believed this would promote learning as they could relate it to King John. However, the outcome of this was disappointing. Focusing solely on the cartoon, pupils made comments along the lines of: “The film is bad because it shows King John hitting a snake, which I don’t think he did”.
What had gone wrong?
It is clear to me now. Pupils were engaged by the gimmick, and not the content; they understood the gimmick, but not the content. In contrast, I taught the Black Death using a knowledge organiser as shown below (this prototype was formed following extensive reading of Kirby and Peal on the topic).
Setting out, and teaching knowledge, in this way allowed students to embed key content. This was necessary for students to access analysis; this skill is not transferable without knowledge of the topic (I can analyse the reasons for the start of WWI, but not interaction between atoms). The results proved the effectiveness of the method. Students, in particular those who had originally had performed poorly due to a lack of cultural capital, were able to successfully analyse the reasons for the spread of the Black Death. Indeed, the same pupil who wrote the comment on King John, as noted above was able to compare and evaluate reasons for the spread of the Black Death and argued that ‘Trade was the most important factor in the spread of the Black Death because without the use of the Silk Road, the disease may have remained in Asia, rather than spreading to Europe’.
For me, this was (and remains) only the beginning, I have continued to refine my technique. I have recently created a Holocaust scheme of work which culminated in the following question: ‘How far do you agree with the Intentionalist interpretation of the development of the Holocaust and elimination of European Jews?’ In this, pupils who had in September been unable to write in full sentence or grasp basic historical concepts, could access this challenging question, which included analysis of historical extracts. Indeed, one student commented: ‘I never thought that I’d be able to that’.
Knowledge really is rewarding. It unlocks students capabilities and allows them to realise their potential.
As such, I’d like to amend my principles to the following:
- Students who ‘practice’ recalling and using knowledge can, and will, rise to high academic expectations.
- Subject content is enthralling and rewarding. My students are more engaged by listening to me and answering questions about the ideas that Hitler promoted in Mein Kampf or Henry Knighton’s narrative of the Peasants’ Revolt than making posters on conscription or writing scripts for a play about the frontline.
But I am still confused. Everywhere I look- on Twitter, in blogs, in headlines, in educationalist books- the reference to constructivism and traditionalism is central. So why was I not taught this during my training? How is it that the vast majority of teachers, and SLT for that matter, are totally unaware of the converging methods of practice? Perhaps it is to do with location. There can be no doubt that coastal schools some what lag behind their counterparts in the capital. But that does not account for the lack of focus on these theories in teacher training. All teachers who I have met that adopt a knowledge-based pedagogy do so in the reaction to the obvious failings of constructivism. So why did I, like many others, start as a constructivist? First, it is because I was not aware of an alternative. Second, and in my opinion, most significantly, the traditionalist approach sounds worse in itself. Teachers who are not engaged in research, which in my experience is been markedly high, lean to constructivism because it looks and sounds better. Observers love to see engagement, even if that is at the cost of tangible learning. But my students are engaged; they are engaged by the realisation that with knowledge, their chance of success increases dramatically. In their mind, the impossible becomes the achievable.
Therefore, I was not wrong to think like the way I did; this was simply the starting point for many teachers. But I am thankful for my inspirational colleagues and those willing to share their own views for showing me that these were not the only thoughts I could have.
Notions from the classroom 