When students are slow to get started with their work, we invariably think they’re avoiding it. But sometimes, despite “clear” instructions, our pupils struggle to grasp what we’re asking of them. Often, this is a modelling issue; if shown how first, they quickly follow suit.
From an early age, humans learn through imitation. Teachers regularly show what success looks like, but some do it more effectively than others. I decided to ensure I was as good at it as I could be, by delving into the research. What I found is detailed below; by using the following modelling techniques, and considering their strengths and limitations, we can prompt students into purposeful problem-solving.
Teachers routinely ask students to makes notes on the page as part of their effort to tackle an activity, be it an extract from a soldier’s diary or a geometrical problem. Yet, all too often, we assume they “naturally” understand how to do this. Years of academic success have shaped our appreciation of what decent annotation looks like, giving us the mistaken belief that note-taking is a straightforward skill.
This is why pupils love the highlighting element of annotation. As Dunlosky et al have explained, novices struggle to pick out the main points of texts and instead prefer the illusion of achievement that comes with highlighting most of the text, which makes it difficult to retrieve key ideas when they return to it later.
I make this point to my students by over-highlighting texts under my visualiser, then asking the class to summarise the key information from the swathes of neon-green rectangles. They recognise the uselessness of my highlighted notes, especially when I contrast this with concise and helpful notes about key terms and ideas, categorised in numbered lists or a quick table.
Only through observing my expert scribblings do most students begin to appreciate the art of useful annotation.
Benefits: Pupils become better at picking out key information and breaking down tasks.
Risks: Is your way of annotating the only way? Where applicable, display different, effective note-taking methods.
Teachers can overlook the need to model the planning element of extended writing, such as the structure and content of essays or highmark exam questions. Allison and Tharby, in their book Making Every Lesson Count, point out that “the product students deliver most in lessons is writing, yet we often expect them to write organically with little explicit guidance on the minute mechanics of the process”.
Seemingly prosaic steps - such as talking through the process of linking paragraphs or the order in which points will be addressed - have a big effect on student performance.
As Ericsson et al make clear, to optimise learning, learners “should be given explicit instructions about the best method”. By revealing their own planning techniques, teachers can provide valuable insight into the strategic nature of tackling potentially overwhelming questions.
I still remember my history teacher sharing the skill of ignoring parts of questions that we disliked and instead reframing responses to focus on our strengths.
Benefits: Pupils are provided with a logical, coherent and concise problemsolving skeleton.
Risks: Is your approach too complex or too limiting for certain students? Effective differentiation requires challenge and scaffolding.
The next step is showing students a fully worked answer. It may sound obvious, but knowing what success looks like really helps pupils to shape their own efforts.
In the context of analytical essays about the works of Shakespeare, researchers Kyun, Kalyuga and Sweller found that a group of students given model answers alongside essay questions outperformed a group that hadn’t. Interestingly, they said “results showed the effectiveness of worked examples increased with decreasing student knowledge”. In other words, students that knew the least about the topic at the outset gained the most from prepared model answers. This goes to show the futility of asking novice pupils to answer a question on something they know little about, without first seeing what a model answer looks like. Pre-prepared models provide examples to store as knowledge in the long-term memory.
Yet, having relied on these models for large parts of my teaching career, I now worry that a “here’s one I made earlier” approach can have serious drawbacks. Firstly, by showing only polished examples of perfection to pupils, we can leave them feeling unclear about what makes it a good solution to a problem. To counter this, we need to model what success doesn’t look like, pointing out common errors and misconceptions, and allowing students to make improvements.
By placing a duff example next to a gem, pupils can compare and contrast more easily.
Secondly, by presenting only pre-prepared models to a class, we are robbing them of an opportunity to understand what Allison and Tharby describe as the “minute mechanics of the process”. Or according to the pithy Twitter observation of blogger and English teacher Matt Pinkett: “Showing kids a pre-prepared model answer and asking them to write a paragraph off the back of it is no different to showing them a picture of duck [à] l’orange and sending ’em to the kitchen to knock one up.”
Finally, by providing an excellent answer, you’re providing a neat, complete solution. Occasionally, that’s fine, but including a balanced diet of incomplete model answers challenges pupils to move up a scaffold.
Benefits: Pre-prepared model answers are easy to work on in advance and ensure you hit all the necessary criteria.
Risks: Pupils may look on in admiration, but still feel clueless about how it was achieved.
Making the move from using mostly ready-made models to mostly live modelling has revolutionised my teaching. To live-model well, the use of a visualiser - essentially a camera that displays what you are writing on an interactive whiteboard, an updated version of the overhead projector - is a must.
Live modelling involves deconstruction and the harnessing of metacognition by talking through the process as you create a worked example. This sounds too simple to be groundbreaking, but we often neglect the importance of allowing pupils free admission to the mind of an expert (ie, the teacher).
Seeing us grapple with an array of significant decisions - vocabulary choice, positioning of syntax, order of points, selection of evidence, choice of conjunction - gives them immediate and unparalleled access into what they see as a mysterious and complicated process.
Many teachers worry about live modelling. Will it expose their weaknesses by revealing the clumsy nature of working out and thinking aloud, as problem-solving takes place? What if my first effort isn’t good enough for grade 9?
But this is missing the point. The inevitable imperfections of live writing are part of the appeal. By making and correcting mistakes - deliberate or otherwise - we create a blueprint for our students to follow: a biology teacher crafts an inadequate explanation of sweat evaporation during exercise and swiftly corrects it; a maths teacher momentarily forgets to simplify a fraction; an English teacher (okay, it was me) has to quickly check the spelling of “ignominy”.
These examples are the equivalent of giving our students the recipe and demonstrating the method to Pinkett’s hypothetical duck à l’orange - and while doing so, recognising and remedying the lack of adequate seasoning.
If you’re worried about being centre-stage too much, invite pupils, under your evaluative guidance, to co-construct model answers with you. Or stick students’ work under the visualiser’s glare to exemplify points or as starting points for development.
Furthermore, students will find it useful to see you go back and edit or correct work while you discuss your amendments. I used to think that pupils who were slow to edit were lazy and complacent; now I’m increasingly convinced that until I show them what the editing process looks like, they actually just don’t know how to make improvements.
Benefits: The messiness of live modelling foregrounds the teacher’s subject-knowledge expertise and acts as a gateway to academic understanding for pupils.
Risks: Watching and listening as the teacher models might add too much cognitive load; you’ll need to get the balance right between observation and explanation.
Mark Roberts is an assistant headteacher in the South West of England
* Dunlosky J., Rawson K.A. , Marsh, E.J. , Nathan, M.J. , and Willingham D.T. (2013) Improving Students’ Learning With Effective Learning Techniques: Promising Directions From Cognitive and Educational Psychology, Psychological Science in the Public Interest 14:1, 4-58
* Allison, S. and Tharby, A. (2015) Making Every Lesson Count: six principles to support great teaching and learning (Carmarthen: Crown House)
* Ericsson, K.A., Krampe, R.T. and Tesch-Romer, C. (1993) The Role of Deliberate Practice in the Acquisition of Expert Performance, Psychological Review, 100:3
* Barton, C. (2018) How I wish I’d Taught Maths: lessons learned from research, conversations with experts, and 12 years of mistakes (Woodbridge: John Catt)
* Kyun, S., Kalyuga, S. and Sweller, J. (2013) The Effect of Worked Examples When Learning to Write Essays in English Literature, The Journal of Experimental Education, 81: 3
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