Sketchy Teaching

Are sketchy things going on in your classroom? I’m talking about paper-and-pen-or-pencil or even stylus-and-tablet kind of sketching. That doodling that got us in trouble when we were in school can be channeled to produce some powerful instructional outcomes.

In Classroom Instruction That Works, Marzano, Pickering, and Pollock identify the use of nonlinguistic representations as a powerful, research-based strategies for increasing student achievement. Marzano expands on the topic in The New Art and Science of Teaching, where he discusses the importance of “providing students with opportunities to record and represent the content that has been the focus of the lesson” (32) linguistically and nonlinguistically.

It’s important to make a distinction between academic sketching and art projects. The point of having students sketch during lessons is to enhance learning by engaging the nonlinguistic parts of their brains, not to produce a masterpiece. Much like so many “projects” and “creative” activities we have subjected students to in school, the important part of the project—the actual thinking—occurs during the gestation period and planning, not in the extended execution. Once the thinking ends, the coloring, shading, detailing, and prettying up is wasted time if your goals are enhanced learning, increased retention, and expanded understanding.  

Scholastic sketching should be quick, nongraded, and, in most cases, explained to someone else. De-emphasize the importance of artistic quality by keeping the time for sketching brief, so brief that even the skilled artists create less-than-perfect products. Teachers can introduce the task by saying something like, “I’m going to time you for two [or some other small number of] minutes only. During that time, I’d like you to sketch [whatever it is you want them to sketch] using pictures, numbers, symbols, and words.“ When the time is up, ask students to explain the sketch to a partner, timing each member of the pair to ensure that everyone has equal opportunity to explain. Allowing students the chance to explain their drawing has three benefits: First, it  connects the nonlinguistic to the linguistic parts of the brain. Second, it provides one more chance for the student to review and reiterate the information, increasing the likelihood of long-term recall. Finally, it allows the partner to hear how another student processed the content, which offers additional perspectives and insights on the subject.     

The purposes for sketching in a content-area classroom are varied. Here is just a sampling of ideas teachers might want to consider:  

Sketch to clarify: When I encounter a difficult piece of text or a complex, multifaceted idea, I find it helpful to clarify by sketching. Kylene Beers and Bob Probst, in their book Reading Nonfiction, call this reading strategy “Sketch to Stretch.” Whether it’s a series of events in a history book, a complicated set of familial relationships in a novel, a plot-packed narrative, or something rather abstract that I need to make concrete, drawing a picture or diagram can help me solidify my understanding. When I notice I’m lost while reading, watching, or listening to something, I often think it’s time for a clarifying sketch. Explaining my drawing to someone else helps me make sure it all makes sense. Sometimes, my explanation sounds like this: “So, this guy wanted to marry this girl, but she was in love with this other guy, whose father owned the company this girl’s father worked for. Another guy, this one here (I put a bowtie on him because he’s wealthy), who worked for the girl’s father, too, was the one the father wanted the girl to marry so that he could take over the business, so. . . .” Other times, it’s more detailed, with actual names and more previse details. If I can explain it using my visuals and my explanation is in sync with my partner’s understanding, I feel more confident that I know what is going on.    

Sketch to summarize: If the goal is not about comprehension of complex material or difficult text but instead to reinforce overall understanding, sketching can be used to summarize content. At the end of a chapter or lecture, at the close of a novel, at the conclusion of a lesson, teachers can ask students to sketch to summarize. “Create a quick drawing that captures the most important points of the story/lecture/concept/lesson.” Explaining the sketch to a partner is an outstanding way to review main points, and because each sketch is personally created, it’s more likely to stick in the mind of the creator.

Sketch to notice: Say you’re studying something that’s visual and you’d like your students to pay more attention to it, focus on some details,  and to commit the image to memory. Asking them to sketch the image in their notes in as much detail as possible in the brief time allotted encourages learners to give the image more than a cursory glance. Students who sketch the layout of the front page of the New York Times, David’s painting Oath of the Horatii, an onion cell they are observing through a microscope, the Taj Mahal, or a diagram from a football playbook are sharpening their visual skills, noticing details they might otherwise have ignored, gathering ideas to discuss or analyze, and making the image more memorable.

Sketch to synthesize: Pulling everything together at the end of a unit is a challenge, but what we know about learning is that the more connections learners make, the better the outcome. Consider asking students to brainstorm—perhaps as a class or in small groups—the key concepts or components of a text, a unit, or a series of lessons and then create a sketch that shows how those elements are related. Explaining the sketches to others in small groups provides an effective review as students listen to the ways others have connected all the dots.  

Sketch to create: While writing a story, authors might need to sketch the layout of a building or map out a neighborhood. When planning a project, teammates might sketch out a blueprint of the final product, map out the workflow to accomplish the task, or brainstorm several prototypes to pitch ideas to others. When considering how to reorganize a room, to organize a presentation, or to lay out a PowerPoint slide, a quick sketch can help make ideas tangible so the creator can consider pros and cons of various approaches. Sketching is a great idea generator. Show students how it can work for them.

Making your classroom a sketchy place will not only increase student learning but also their enjoyment. After all, sketching is fun and freeing. It exercises often-untapped parts of the brain. And we can all use a little exercise, right?

An additional note: I wrote this blog last night and happened to visit some seventh grade English classes this morning that were reading an account of the creation of the world according to the Greeks. The text was dense, with a new character or an important event (and sometimes both) in every sentence. The teacher asked the students to sketch out what happened in the story and gave them 8 minutes to do so. While the students were creating the sketches, the teacher asked students to explain the story using their diagram, which was an effective tool for formatively assessing student understanding and identifying gaps or points of confusion. Students also shared their sketches with the others at their table and were able to retell the narrative for one another and listen to others’ explanations. Students benefited from seeing the approaches of their classmates and were able to add missing information to clarify their own sketches. This serendipitous visit reinforced my belief that sketching is a valuable and engaging comprehension tool, one worth adding to every student’s toolbox.

What If Every Student Wrote in Every Class Every Day?

Sometimes I like to dream big dreams. I revel in “What if?” scenarios. What if everyone on the planet got along? What if teachers got paid according to how difficult their job actually is? What if I had a dollar for every time a kid asked to borrow a pencil and then didn’t return it?

Lately, I’ve been thinking about what might happen in schools if every student wrote every day in every class. I know. It’s a crazy idea. But, as I said, I like to dream big dreams. If teachers in all subject areas—math, science, social studies, English, fine arts, LOTE, physical education, career and technical education—made it their mission to insert just a little bit of writing into their daily lesson plans, the results would be astonishing.

If every student wrote every day in every class, here’s what might happen:

Students would become more confident writers. Writing— like most things that are worth doing well—takes practice, and the more you do it, the better you get. Students don’t have to write formal papers (which, let’s face it, should be special-occasion experiences) in order to improve as writers. Quickwrites, short answers, explanatory paragraphs, summaries, and letters to the teacher (or other students) are all ways of practicing writing within academic disciplines. The simple act of stringing words together to make sentences and adding additional sentences until something emerges that makes sense builds confidence and self-efficacy.

Teachers would have a better idea of what students know and don’t know. Asking students to explain something in writing gives a glimpse into their understanding in a way that is more complete and nuanced than a multiple choice question or thumbs-up/thumbs-down or fist-to-five physical response. Writing is an easy-to-implement formative assessment tool at any point in the lesson cycle. Having students write what they already know about a topic prior to instruction can give teachers an idea of where to begin teaching the entire class or which students will need differentiation, either enrichment or remediation. Pausing mid-lesson to allow students to explain how they reached a solution or solved a problem can provide insight into their thought processes and help the teacher diagnose gaps in understanding. An exit ticket summarizing the day’s essential question on a notecard provides instantaneous feedback about whether students “got it” so teachers will know whether to move on or revisit the concept tomorrow.

Blank pages and blank stares would become things of the past. Like a car that’s been sitting undriven for a few months, many student writers have trouble getting started when they are asked to write. Once students start writing every day in every class, their batteries remain fully charged, and the ideas emerge much more readily. This is especially true when frequent writing activities are low-stakes, ones in which getting ideas down on paper doesn’t come with the “gotcha” of a grade attached. Writing in a fearful state is paralyzing. Writing (sans pressure) to explore what you think about a topic is freeing. Not every idea that comes out of your pen (or shows up on your screen) is going to be brilliant, but putting ideas into the world every day increases the odds that you’ll produce something worth saying.

Classroom conversations would be better. Writing before talking helps us generate ideas and clarify our thinking. How often, before a difficult conversation, do we write out and rehearse what we have to say to increase the chances of it coming out as intended? Similarly, allowing students to write a response to a question before a classroom discussion has several advantages. First, it provides every student a chance to wrestle with the thinking instead of sitting back and waiting for the loudmouth in the room to answer the question orally, freeing them from any obligation to think for themselves. Second, it gives students a chance to try out their ideas, to have some “think time,” and to organize their response before being asked to share it aloud. Whether or not the student is called on to respond, the student has done some thinking, and that’s what’s most important in an educational setting.

The quality of student writing would improve, which means, among other things, that writing test scores would increase. The more you write, the better you write. If you write every day, throughout the day, you’re bound to get better. Instead of complaining that “these kids can’t write” and focusing on inadequacies, teachers should consider providing numerous opportunities for writing and offering encouragement to reinforce what’s good. Praise-hungry students will latch onto the traits that receive positive feedback, and, eventually, their writing will get better. When the quality and quantity of student writing improves and anxiety about writing withers, the writing they’re asked to produce on-demand for standardized tests will seem less daunting. It’s just another thing we’re asked to write, right? No big deal. What will be a big deal is the amount of time educators can spend focusing on exploring meaningful content rather than tedious test preparation.  

The school will develop a culture of literacy. Where the written word is valued, learning thrives. When students see that all teachers—not just the English teachers—care about writing, they’ll care more, too. Soon, you’ll hear discussions about what writing looks like in various content areas, how writing in science looks different than writing in social studies or English. Disciplinary literacy will shape students to become more thoughtful, purposeful writers and more curious readers. Students will write for real-world audiences and will be eager to let their powerful voices be heard. Building a culture of literacy sets all students up for real-world success in whatever the future holds for them because those who can read perceptively and write with precision have the power to influence others, to get what they want, and to achieve whatever they dream.   

Teachers would spend more time grading. Wait! That’s not true. The kind of writing I’m talking about is mostly ungraded and doesn’t require out-of-class teacher feedback. When students write daily in school, they’re mostly engaging in writing to learn (also known as learning through writing), which is about acquiring the knowledge and skills, not being assessed as right or wrong. It’s more about doing the writing (and the associated thinking) rather than receiving a reward for correctness or compliance. And there’s a likelihood that students will write down some incorrect or misguided ideas on their pathways to mastery, which shouldn’t be penalized because making mistakes is a healthy part of learning. Students should be writing more than we could possibly read anyway. Shifting the audience away from the teacher gives students a more potent motivation for writing well and communicating clearly. When, and if, teachers grade and comment on writing, many other readers should have seen and provided constructive feedback on that piece previously. Content-area teachers who fear being unqualified to assess student writing should free themselves from some of that pressure. It’s not your job to be a copy editor and fix every grammatical error. Focus on what makes sense. Question what doesn’t. When you focus on meaning, any time you spend reading and responding to student writing will be more pleasurable; it will be a conversation between you and your students about what they think about their learning. And that is fascinating.

I realize that asking teachers to add a bit of writing to their lessons is encouraging risk-taking and stepping outside of comfort zones. I acknowledge that my dream isn’t likely to come true on most campuses. I know, however, that students don’t write enough in school, and I’ve seen how learning-through-writing strategies can transform classrooms into active, vibrant, student-centered communities of scholars. You probably don’t have the power to control what goes on in others’ classrooms, but you have control over what goes on in yours. Any bit of writing you add is more than your students would have done without you.  Help me make my big dream come true.