Direct instruction - or “telling students stuff” as I like to call it - is the topic du jour around the online water cooler. The theory goes that, rather than painstakingly eliciting theories from the rubbery brains of the pupils in your care, you can save everyone a whole lot of time by just telling them what they need to know.

In this way they’ll discover Curley’s wife’s red dress symbolises danger in Of Mice and Men in the time it takes some of them to write down the date and title. This new old-fashioned, sorry, “neo-trad” approach to teaching is said to draw on cognitive science about the way students learn best.

Race to the bottom

Now, as a confirmed atheist, I’m all for science conquering ill-founded belief and snake oilery, but I’m getting pretty fed up with the way that some teachers have turned this into a competition of disengagement, wearing the grit and resilience it takes students to sit through their lessons as some kind of badge of honour.

“What’s the matter? Can’t hack being lectured to about Aristotle for an hour, child? Excuse me, did you just roll your eyes as I reached the 57th minute of my address on the genre of tragedy?!”

C’mon, Shakespeare was no idiot. When he started writing Romeo and Juliet, he knew to start with a fight scene. Two acts in, and you’ve got sex. Third act? Time to chuck in a couple of murders. It’s human nature to desire excitement! To want to be engaged. To be hooked.

That does not have to mean elaborate hooks (though it can do). There’s perhaps an irony that needs highlighting: the “trads” I’ve had the pleasure to hear speak at teaching events are some of the most engaging speakers I’ve ever had the pleasure to listen to. They know the power of hyperbole and shock and awe tactics like the casual swear word (not that I’d be using the latter in the classroom).

Excitement matters

So, let’s get real. Let’s not buy into the idea that teaching and learning can’t also be enjoyable. I’m pretty sure that the laughter and fun I have had when teaching is the primary reason I’m 11 years in and still smiling. In my opinion, there’s nowt wrong with my students finding similar enjoyment in my lessons.

Of course, it doesn’t mean pleasure is the primary goal: I’m no children’s entertainer. But in my eyes school is a challenging enough time for children for a whole host of reasons. We should not just allow teenagers to laugh, be thrilled, inspired, and, yes, engaged in their lessons, we should positively seek out opportunities for it to happen.

Take the example of Curley’s wife. Start with a pouty pair of red lips on the board as students come in, discuss the connotations, and I guarantee they’ll be a bit more interested in the symbolism of Steinbeck as you divulge it.

So, do both you and your pupils a favour: suck ‘em in, get ‘em interested… then you can sock ‘em between the ears with that juicy slab of knowledge.

Caroline Spalding is director of English at Tupton Hall School in Chesterfield