The Pedagogy Collective Pod

The Pedagogy Collective

Hey, everyone! Welcome back to The Pedagogy Collective!

Today, I want to talk about student voice. And specifically, the different ways students can contribute their ideas, questions, and perspectives to what happens in the classroom. We hear the terms student voice, student choice, and student ownership quite a bit in education, don’t we?

And I thought it might be interesting to spend some time exploring what those ideas can look like in our classrooms. Because one of the things I love about teaching is that students bring their own experiences, interests, questions, and ways of thinking into the learning process.

And there are so many possibilities for incorporating those contributions into the lessons and learning experiences we design. I’m not talking about putting the entire curriculum up for a vote.

Because I suspect if we asked students whether they’d like to do an assignment or have an extra break or brunch or just hang out, we might have a pretty predictable outcome. 😂

I’m talking about the ways students can share what they’re thinking, what they’re curious about, what they’re noticing, and what they’re finding challenging.

And how those contributions can inform our teaching.

Because one of the things I find especially interesting about student voice is the relationship between what students share and what we do with that information.

Listening to Student Thinking

Think about those moments when a student asks a question you weren’t expecting.

Maybe you’re introducing a new topic, and a student makes a connection to something they’ve experienced, or you’re having a discussion, and someone offers a perspective you hadn’t considered, or perhaps a student asks a question that opens up an entirely new direction for the conversation.

And sometimes that direction is so unexpected that you’re wondering how on earth we got there.

But those moments can be fascinating.

A student’s question might reveal how they’re interpreting something, what they’re curious about, or how they’re connecting new information to something they already know.

And depending on the question and the learning goals, there are different ways we might respond.

We might explore the idea together or we might connect it to something we’re already discussing.

Or we might save it for another lesson.

And I think that’s one of the wonderful things about teaching. We have opportunities to make instructional decisions based on what we’re learning about our students as they’re learning from us.

Student Voice Takes Different Forms

Another aspect of student voice that I find interesting is the variety of ways students can contribute their thinking.

Some students enjoy participating in whole-class discussions while others might prefer having time to organize their thoughts before sharing, and students’ preferences can change depending on the topic, the activity, or even the day.

I mean, I think most of us can relate to that.

There are days when we’re happy to contribute to a conversation, and other days when we’re not quite as chatty. Think about how you feel about different PD’s you have you attend and how that affects your participation. My veteran teacher friends could do an entire series about this (lol).

So there are lots of possibilities for inviting student thinking into a lesson.

Students might respond to a question in writing before discussing it (aka I love this personally). Any kind of thinking I can do before contributing is helpful for me.

They might share ideas with a partner.

They might contribute questions anonymously.

Or perhaps they use a quick reflection to explain what they’re curious about or what they’re still working to understand.

What I like about having different opportunities for participation is that we get to hear from students in different ways.

And those contributions can give us valuable insight into their understanding, their questions, and their perspectives.

Making Room for Their Ideas

So what might this look like in our classrooms?

Well, imagine you’re introducing a new topic.

Before diving into the lesson, you invite students to share what they already know, what connections they’re making, or what they’re curious about.

Maybe someone shares an experience that relates to the topic. Maybe another student asks a question that could lead to further exploration, and perhaps those contributions become part of the discussion or help shape an upcoming activity.

Or think about a time when students are working on an assignment.

We might invite them to explain how they’re approaching the task.

What strategies are they using? Why did they choose that approach? What are they noticing as they work? And sometimes students have really interesting ways of approaching something.

I love hearing students explain their thinking, particularly when they’ve arrived at an idea or solution in a way I hadn’t anticipated.

Because those conversations give us an opportunity to understand not just what students know, but how they’re making sense of what they’re learning.

Another possibility is inviting students to reflect on their learning experiences.

What’s helping them understand the material?

What questions do they have?

What would they like to explore further?

And those reflections can provide useful information as we think about our next instructional decisions.

When Students Surprise Us

Now, here’s something I especially enjoy thinking about.

What happens when students share something we weren’t expecting?

Maybe a student offers a completely different interpretation of an idea.

Maybe they suggest another way to approach an activity.

Or perhaps they share feedback about something they’ve been learning.

And sometimes that feedback gives us an opportunity to see the learning experience from a different perspective.

For example, imagine students sharing that a particular explanation or example was especially helpful.

That might be something we want to build on.

Or perhaps their questions suggest that another example, a different explanation, or some additional practice would be useful.And sometimes students might have suggestions about the activities or assignments themselves.

Of course, we’re bringing our professional knowledge, experience, and judgment to those decisions, and students’ suggestions won’t always be appropriate for the learning goals.

But I think there’s something valuable about inviting students to share their perspectives and considering what those perspectives can tell us about their learning experiences.

Responding to Student Voice

And that brings me to another interesting part of this conversation.

What happens after students share their ideas, questions, or feedback?

There are so many ways we can make those contributions part of the learning process.

For example, perhaps students ask questions at the beginning of a unit.

We might return to those questions throughout the unit as students develop their understanding.

Or maybe students share feedback about an activity, and we explain how that feedback informed an instructional decision.

And sometimes we might explain why we’re approaching something in a particular way, even when students have suggested an alternative.

I think those conversations can be valuable, too.

Because students have opportunities to understand the thinking behind instructional decisions, while also seeing how their own ideas and perspectives fit into the learning process.

And this connects to student choice and ownership as well.

When students have opportunities to make meaningful decisions, reflect on their progress, and identify goals for themselves, they’re participating in different aspects of their learning.

And I think there’s a lot worth exploring in how those opportunities can complement the instruction and guidance we provide.

A Few Possibilities to Explore

So I thought I’d share a few ideas that could be adapted to different classrooms.

And the good news is that none of these requires a six-week interdisciplinary project, a documentary crew, or matching T-shirts. 😂

One…

The Pedagogy Collective

Have you ever finished teaching a lesson and thought, Wow, they were really engaged today!

Maybe students were participating, the room was buzzing with conversation, everyone completed the activity, and things seemed to be going beautifully.

Or maybe you’ve had the opposite experience. You planned something you were genuinely excited about, imagined your students being equally enthusiastic, and then watched the whole thing fall a little flat.

Ahhh, teaching. 😂

Student engagement is one of those things we talk about constantly in education. We want our lessons to be engaging. We want students to be curious, interested, and motivated to learn.

But here’s a question I’ve been thinking about:

What do we actually mean when we say students are engaged?

Are they participating? Paying attention? Completing their work? Enjoying themselves?

And how do we recognize the difference between students who are genuinely invested in learning and those who are primarily doing what’s expected of them?

Let’s talk about it!

What Does Student Engagement Actually Look Like?

When we think about student engagement, we might picture a classroom buzzing with conversation, students enthusiastically participating in an activity, or everyone working with tremendous focus.

And those can absolutely be signs of engagement!

Students who are asking thoughtful questions, making connections, explaining their reasoning, collaborating with purpose, or persisting through challenging work are giving us valuable evidence that they’re engaging with their learning.

But engagement doesn’t always look or sound the same.

Sometimes it’s a lively classroom discussion. Sometimes it’s a student quietly working through a difficult problem. Sometimes it’s a group of students so absorbed in a project that they don’t want to stop when class ends.

So here’s a question worth exploring:

What does student engagement look like and sound like in your classroom?

And if you walked into someone else’s classroom specifically looking for evidence of student engagement, what would you notice?

You might listen for students asking questions, exchanging ideas, or explaining their thinking. You might observe students applying new knowledge, making connections, or working through a challenge.

And you might also look at the work they’re producing or talk with students about what they’re learning and why it matters to them.

These observations can tell us quite a bit!

But here’s where I think the conversation gets especially interesting.

Students can be engaged for different reasons.

Some students genuinely enjoy the learning itself. Others may put tremendous effort into an assignment because they’re working toward a particular grade or goal. And sometimes students participate primarily because it’s what’s expected of them.

That doesn’t mean their effort isn’t valuable or that learning isn’t happening.

It simply raises another interesting question:

What’s motivating students to engage with the work?

And that’s where Phillip Schlechty’s framework gives us something useful to think about.

Schlechty’s Levels of Student Engagement

Educator Phillip Schlechty described different ways students respond to the work they’re asked to do in school. His framework helps us think not only about whether students are participating but also about what motivates their participation.

A commonly used version of the continuum identifies five responses:

Authentic Engagement

Students find meaning and value in the learning itself. They’re invested in understanding, exploring, creating, or accomplishing something that matters to them. Their motivation extends beyond simply finishing the assignment or earning a grade.

Strategic Compliance

Students are willing to put substantial effort into their work, but they’re primarily motivated by external outcomes, such as grades, recognition, or future opportunities.

Ritual Compliance

Students do enough to meet expectations or avoid negative consequences, but they aren’t particularly invested in the learning itself.

Retreatism

Students withdraw from the learning task. They may appear quiet or unobtrusive, but they’re not meaningfully participating in the work.

Rebellion

Students actively reject or resist the assigned work, sometimes engaging in other activities or disrupting the task.

What I appreciate about this framework is that it helps us consider not just what students are doing, but why they’re doing it.

A classroom can be orderly and productive, with students completing assignments and following expectations, while much of their motivation comes from external rewards or requirements.

And that’s not necessarily a bad thing!

A student who’s working toward a particular grade or personal goal may be learning a tremendous amount.

But Schlechty’s framework invites us to explore what might happen when students also find personal meaning and value in the learning itself.

It’s also important to remember that these aren’t permanent labels for students. Engagement can shift depending on the task, the learning environment, and what’s happening in students’ lives.

A student might be deeply invested in one learning experience and less interested in another.

Rather than asking, “Which level is this student?” perhaps a more useful question is:

“What might help students find greater meaning and value in the work we’re asking them to do?”

And that’s where our instructional decisions come into the conversation.

So What Makes Learning Engaging?

When we hear student engagement strategies, we might immediately think about games, movement, technology, collaborative activities, and creative projects.

And those can all be wonderful!

But meaningful engagement doesn’t necessarily require an elaborate activity or an entertaining presentation.

Students can become deeply invested in challenging work, interesting questions, meaningful problems, and opportunities to create something they care about.

Sometimes it’s less about making a lesson more exciting and more about creating opportunities for students to connect with the learning in meaningful ways.

So what might that look like in our classrooms?

Start With Curiosity

Before telling students everything they’re going to learn, what if we gave them something to wonder about?

An intriguing image. An unexpected statement. A puzzling scenario. A question that doesn’t have an immediately obvious answer.

Something that makes students think, Wait a minute. What’s going on here?

The idea isn’t to turn every lesson into a mystery. 😂

It’s to consider whether we can create a reason for students to want to explore the learning before we begin explaining it.

Make the Learning Relevant

One of the most powerful ways to invite engagement is to help students recognize why the learning matters.

And relevance doesn’t necessarily mean every lesson has to connect directly to a student’s future career.

Sometimes it means connecting the content to something students already know, a question they care about, an experience they’ve had, or an issue that matters in their community.

This is also where knowing our students’ assets and interests becomes incredibly valuable.

When we learn about the experiences, knowledge, languages, cultures, and interests students bring into our classrooms, we have more possibilities for making instructional decisions that connect with their lives.

And I think there’s something wonderful about students recognizing that what they bring to the classroom actually matters.

Give Students Meaningful Choices

Choice can be another powerful ingredient in engagement.

Perhaps students choose between two ways to demonstrate their understanding. Maybe they select a topic for an investigation, decide which resources to explore, or have some influence over the product they create.

The key is that the choices are meaningful and support the learning objective.

We’re not simply offering choices for the sake of offering choices.

We’re giving students opportunities to exercise agency while still working toward important learning goals.

And sometim…

The Pedagogy Collective

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what keeps educators coming back to teaching year after year, especially when the job itself seems to be constantly changing.

So I reached out to a friend of mine who’s a veteran teacher. He’s American, but moved to Australia, started a family there, and continued his teaching career.

I asked him what has helped him keep the joy alive all these years.

His response?

“Memes.”

MEMES. 😂

And honestly? I love that answer because while I was thinking about work-life balance, professional boundaries, and all the challenges of sustaining a career in education, he reminded me that sometimes joy is found in something as simple as having a good laugh. And he and I share hilarious memes and reels with each other on Instagram every single day.

But another experience brought a different perspective into the conversation.

I’d also reached out to a friend who’s preparing to retire from teaching. What I didn’t realize was that just hours earlier, she’d shared a video on Facebook reflecting on what had kept her coming back year after year—and what she’ll miss most.

The message was about the difference educators can make in students’ lives, even on days when we’re having a difficult time ourselves.

And I was struck by how these two moments captured different sides of teaching.

One reminded me of the importance of laughter.

The other reminded me of the relationships that make our work meaningful.

And together, they made me wonder:

How do we protect the things we love about teaching when the job itself keeps changing?

The Profession That Never Stands Still

Teaching has always required flexibility, creativity, and a willingness to learn. But between evolving instructional practices, changing expectations, new initiatives, and advancing technology, educators certainly have plenty to navigate.

And now there’s AI.

Because apparently we needed another thing to figure out. 😂

But this particular change goes far beyond learning to use another tool.

Think about homework. When students can ask AI to solve problems, answer questions, or write entire essays, what does that mean for the assignments we send home?

What does it mean for assessment, academic integrity, and determining what students actually know and can do independently?

And how do we help students use AI in ways that support their thinking rather than replace it?

These are big questions, and they don’t come with simple answers.

At the same time, AI offers opportunities for educators to brainstorm lessons, develop instructional materials, and explore new approaches to teaching.

There’s potential there. But there’s also an enormous learning curve, and many educators are navigating these questions while managing all the responsibilities they already have.

For veteran teachers, it’s another significant change in a career that may have included decades of evolving expectations. For newer teachers, it’s part of learning to teach in a world that looks quite different from the one they experienced as students.

And I think that raises an important question:

How do we continue growing and adapting without feeling that we need to reinvent ourselves every time something changes?

Protecting the Parts of Teaching We Love

I was recently reading a Reddit discussion where veteran teachers were sharing what had helped them sustain their careers.

One theme came up repeatedly: boundaries.

And I think there’s a lot of wisdom in that.

There’s always another lesson to plan, another email to answer, another resource to create, or another instructional approach to explore.

But loving teaching doesn’t mean it needs to occupy every available moment of our lives.

Maybe establishing boundaries means deciding when the laptop closes. Maybe it’s recognizing that not every email requires an immediate response. Or perhaps it’s giving ourselves permission to create meaningful lessons without making every single one an elaborate production.

Of course, individual boundaries can’t resolve every challenge. Workloads, administrative expectations, staffing, and institutional support matter tremendously.

Still, where we have room to make choices, protecting time and energy for the rest of our lives is important.

Another comment in that Reddit discussion caught my attention.

One educator suggested that teachers should approach teaching as a job rather than a passion because treating it as a passion can contribute to burnout.

And I understand that perspective. When our work becomes deeply intertwined with our identity, it can become harder to recognize when we’re taking on too much.

But I also see another side to this.

I actually think there’s something incredibly valuable about remaining passionate about teaching.

I love those moments when a lesson comes together in an unexpected way, when students make connections we hadn’t anticipated, or when we try something new simply because we’re curious about how it might work.

And I think our enthusiasm can be contagious.

Now, does that mean every lesson needs to be exciting or that teachers should wake up overflowing with enthusiasm every morning?

Goodness, no. 😂

And passion should never become an excuse for expecting educators to work without reasonable boundaries or support.

But I wonder whether we need to choose between treating teaching as a profession and approaching it with passion.

What if establishing healthy boundaries is actually one of the ways we protect our passion for teaching?

Maybe we can care deeply about the work without asking it to be everything in our lives.

Finding Our People—and Our Sense of Humor

I keep coming back to my Australian friend’s answer.

Memes.

Because sometimes, sustaining a career in teaching isn’t about finding some profound new philosophy. Sometimes it’s about having people around us who help make the work enjoyable.

The colleague who sends a hilarious meme at exactly the right moment. The student who says something so unexpectedly funny that you have to work very hard to maintain your professional composure. Or the lesson that goes completely sideways and eventually becomes a story you laugh about for years.

And I think the relationships we build with colleagues can have a tremendous influence on our experiences as educators.

Schools and universities can be wonderful places to exchange ideas, support one another, and share a laugh.

They can also be places where frustration sometimes turns into ongoing negativity, gossip, or workplace conflict.

Now, educators absolutely deserve opportunities to discuss legitimate concerns, support colleagues, and advocate for better working conditions. Those conversations matter.

But we don’t necessarily need to participate in every disagreement or get pulled into every workplace conflict.

Sometimes protecting our professional well-being means being intentional about the people we connect with and the conversations we choose to participate in.

Finding colleagues who help us reflect, problem-solve, laugh, and remember what we enjoy about teaching can make a meaningful difference.

And sometimes, apparently, all it takes is a really good meme. 😂

Remembering What Makes the Work Meaningful

This brings me back to my friend who’s preparing to retire.

When I saw the video she’d shared, I found it incredibly moving.

Because for many educators, the relationships we build with students are among the most meaningful parts of teaching.

We might not always know the impact we’ve had.

Sometimes it’s a conversation, a moment of encouragement, or a little extra patience on a difficult day.

And sometimes those moments matter to students more than we realize.

I think that’s what made my friend’s post so meaningful. As she approaches retirement, the relationships she’s built throughout her career are clearly something she values.

Of course, recognizing the impact educators can have doesn’t mean teachers should sacrifice their own well-being.

Our students matter. And so do we.

But those human connections can be a genuine source of joy and fulfillment, even in a profession t…

The Pedagogy Collective

The other day, I was talking with my cousin’s little boy over FaceTime. I asked him a question, and then... nothing.

Silence.

I wasn’t quite sure what was happening. Had he heard me? Was he distracted? Did I need to ask the question again?

As it turned out, he was thinking.

He wasn’t ignoring me. He just needed a little time to process what I’d asked and figure out how he wanted to respond.

And it got me thinking about something that happens in classrooms.

We ask students questions, invite them to share their ideas, and sometimes the room gets quiet.

But what does that quiet actually mean?

Sometimes students are thinking. Sometimes they’re unsure how to respond. Sometimes they need a little more support to enter the conversation.

And perhaps it’s worth looking at what happens between asking a question and expecting an answer.

Are We Giving Students Enough Time to Think?

Think about what happens after we pose a question in the classroom.

Sometimes students respond immediately. Other times, there’s a pause before anyone offers an answer.

How much time are we providing students to process what we’ve asked? Are we giving them opportunities to organize their thoughts before inviting them to share?

A quick recall question might require only a brief pause, while a question asking students to analyze, evaluate, or make connections may benefit from more time.

And different students may need different opportunities to process their thinking.

The question isn’t whether we’re waiting long enough by some universal standard. It’s whether we’re intentionally creating space for the thinking we’re asking students to do.

The “Think” in Think-Pair-Share

Let’s talk about one of the most familiar instructional strategies around: Think-Pair-Share.

It’s a strategy many educators know and use, and for good reason. It gives students opportunities to develop ideas, talk through their thinking, and learn from one another.

One thing worth considering is how much attention we give to that first step: the thinking.

Before students share their ideas with a partner, they may need an opportunity to develop them.

That might involve considering the question, connecting it to something they’ve learned, organizing their thoughts, or jotting down a few ideas.

And not every student will need the same amount of time or the same kind of support.

Some students may be ready to talk almost immediately. Others may benefit from additional time, an opportunity to write, or a chance to quietly rehearse their response.

Building intentional thinking time into classroom conversations can create opportunities for more thoughtful participation.

And it communicates something important:

Your ideas are worth waiting for.

When Students Aren’t Talking

Here’s something I hear from teachers quite often:

“I ask my students questions, but nobody wants to answer.”

Or sometimes:

“I have them turn and talk, but they don’t actually talk about the question.”

If you’ve experienced either of these situations, you’re certainly not alone. Getting students to participate in classroom conversations can be challenging, and there isn’t always one simple explanation for why a discussion isn’t taking off.

Sometimes students need more thinking time. Sometimes they aren’t sure how to begin. They may be hesitant to share publicly, uncertain about the question, or in need of a little more structure.

And that’s where it might be helpful to look at what happens before we ask students to talk.

Imagine posing a question to the entire class and inviting anyone to respond. For some students, that’s a comfortable way to participate. For others, answering in front of everyone without first organizing their ideas might feel like a pretty big leap.

Now imagine giving students the same question but allowing them a little independent thinking time before discussing it with a partner.

And what if we gave that partner conversation a bit of structure?

Rather than simply saying, “Turn and talk,” we might try:

“Take a moment to think about the question and jot down one idea. Then, Partner A will share while Partner B listens. After that, switch roles. When you’re finished, identify one idea you both agree on or one question you’re still wondering about.”

Now students have a clearer sense of what they’re being asked to do, how to participate, and what they’re working toward together.

And when we invite students into a whole-class conversation afterward, they’ve already had an opportunity to develop and share their thinking with someone else.

Of course, even a structured conversation won’t guarantee participation. Students may need clarification, language supports, different ways to respond, or adjustments based on what we’re noticing.

But I think there’s a valuable question here:

When students aren’t talking, what might they need to help them enter the conversation?

Sometimes, rather than asking the same question again and hoping for a response, we can change the conditions around the conversation.

Because meaningful discussion doesn’t always happen simply because we invite students to talk.

Sometimes we need to make the conversation a little easier to enter.

Are We Making Learning Interesting and Relevant for Students?

As you get to know me, you’ll discover that I’m a total fangirl of educators Doug Fisher and Nancy Frey.

I always come back to something Doug Fisher has said: He believes part of a teacher’s job description should be making learning interesting and relevant for students.

I mean, preach, my dude. 😂 I agree!

Now, let’s be realistic. We’re going to teach things that don’t always make students jump for joy. That’s just part of teaching.

But when we’re planning lessons that invite students to engage deeply, think critically, and participate in meaningful conversations, it’s worth asking ourselves:

Are we creating opportunities for students to connect with what they’re learning?

Are we drawing on their interests, funds of knowledge, cultural and linguistic assets, and prior experiences? Are we helping them see how what they’re learning connects to something they already know, care about, or are curious about?

Because sometimes, giving students more thinking time or a more structured discussion is only part of the picture.

The question itself—and how relevant and interesting it feels to students—matters, too.

And when students have something meaningful to connect with, we may be giving them another reason to enter the conversation.

Sometimes Silence Is Thinking

I’ve been reflecting on that FaceTime conversation with my cousin’s little boy.

It was such a small moment. Just a question, a pause, and a reminder that someone else’s thinking doesn’t always happen on my timeline.

And it made me wonder how often similar moments unfold in classrooms.

We ask students to analyze, explain, connect, interpret, evaluate, and reflect.

Those are complex things to do.

And complex thinking sometimes takes time.

But time isn’t always the only thing students need. Sometimes they need a clearer invitation into the conversation, an opportunity to test an idea with a partner, or another way to contribute.

So perhaps the next time a classroom gets quiet, rather than immediately assuming what that silence means, we can get curious about it.

What might students need in this moment to think, connect, and contribute?

Because sometimes the silence between a question and an answer isn’t empty at all.

It’s full of possibility.

Let’s Keep the Conversation Going

I’m curious about your experiences.

What have you noticed when you give students time to think before responding? And what strategies have helped your students participate in meaningful classroom conversations?

I’d love to hear what’s worked in your classroom, what you’ve experimented with, or what you’re still figuring out.

And if you enjoyed this conversation, subscribe to The Pedagogy Collective for more articles and podcast episodes exploring the messy, beautiful, meaningful work of teaching.

Grab a cuppa, pull up a chair, and let’s talk teaching! ☕💛

The Pedagogy Collective

Every classroom has a vibe.

You know what I’m talking about. You can feel it almost immediately when you walk into a room.

Some classrooms feel warm, welcoming, and alive with curiosity. Students are comfortable asking questions, making mistakes, and being themselves. There’s laughter, conversation, and a sense that everyone belongs.

Other classrooms feel a little different. Maybe there’s tension in the air. Maybe students seem disconnected from one another, or from you. Maybe you’re spending more time managing behavior than actually teaching.

And sometimes, the classroom vibe just feels... off.

Here’s the thing: You can be a wonderful teacher and still find yourself in a classroom that doesn’t feel the way you hoped it would.

Classroom culture isn’t something we create once in August and then check off our list. It’s something that develops through hundreds of little interactions, routines, conversations, and experiences over time.

And the good news? It can change.

If your classroom isn’t quite the vibe you wish it were, here are 10 ways to start shifting the energy.

1. Start class with a different question.

Instead of immediately launching into the lesson, ask students something about themselves. Try, “What’s one small win you’ve had this week?” Give everyone a chance to respond, even if it’s just with a partner.

2. Change what happens in the first two minutes.

Stand at the door, greet students by name, and make a positive connection. A welcoming entrance can change how students experience the beginning of class.

3. Give students five minutes to actually connect.

Use a quick partner conversation with a low-stakes prompt. Sometimes students need opportunities to connect as people before they’re ready to engage as learners.

4. Ask students what they’d change.

Give everyone a sticky note or anonymous digital survey. Ask, “What’s one thing we could do differently to make this classroom a better place to learn?” Then choose one realistic suggestion to act on.

5. Look for five things to genuinely celebrate.

Notice specific behaviors that contribute to a positive learning environment. Instead of “Good job,” try, “I noticed how you made space for everyone’s ideas in your group.”

6. Reset one routine that’s driving everyone crazy.

Pick one frustrating part of the day—maybe transitions or group work—and invite students to help redesign it. Try the new routine together and see what changes.

7. Create one moment of unexpected joy.

Try a funny, content-related warm-up, a playful challenge, or a class celebration. It doesn’t need to be elaborate or take away from learning.

8. Make sure everyone gets to talk.

Before a whole-class discussion, let students think, write, or talk with a partner. Invite multiple ways to contribute so participation isn’t dominated by the same few voices.

9. Have one conversation that needs to happen.

Maybe you’ve noticed some disconnection with a student. Find a quiet moment to check in without an agenda. Sometimes “Hey, how are things going?” is where a relationship begins to shift.

10. Invite students into a fresh start.

Tell students, “I’ve been thinking about the kind of classroom I want us to have, and I’d love for us to work together to create it.” Ask them to identify one thing the class could try differently tomorrow.

One last thought...

The goal isn’t to create a classroom where everyone is happy all the time, where every lesson goes perfectly, or where challenges never arise.

That’s not how classrooms—or humans—work.

The goal is to create a learning community where students feel respected, valued, challenged, and supported. A place where mistakes are part of learning, relationships matter, and everyone has a role in shaping the experience.

And if your classroom doesn’t quite feel like that right now?

That doesn’t mean you’ve failed.

It means there’s an opportunity to begin again.

Now I’m curious: If you could change one thing about the vibe in your classroom, what would it be?

I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.

Welcome to The Pedagogy Collective, where we have real conversations about what it means to teach, learn, and grow together.

My name is Kristy and I have been a teacher educator for 10 years after 12 years in the classroom and four years as an instructional coach and a teacher evaluator. I love the practical stuff. What can you take away from every class? Every post? Every conversation that you can use right now. This Substack is about getting down to the business of great teaching and to support you as you do it. We talk about real classroom situations, real best practice strategies and the very real, every day things that come up in classrooms and how to navigate them. Welcome!