Lucia Flaherty, Teacher of English, reviews the podcast ‘Trialled and Tested’

Lucia Flaherty, Teacher of English, reviews the podcast ‘Trialled and Tested’, in which Jamie Scott and Alex Quigley explore how students must learn to verbalise the process of metacognition early.

 

https://educationendowmentfoundation.org.uk/news/trialled-and-tested-podcast-metacognition/

 

‘Metacognition is intuitive […] We just need to give it a language’ – Alex Quigley

 

This week, in a bid to think about metacognition off screen, I have been listening to the podcast ‘Trialled and Tested’. In the first episode, Jamie Scott and Alex Quigley explore what metacognition and self-regulation is and how it can be implemented in the classroom. There was more food for thought in the podcast than a review can cover so I’ve focused on what resonated the most with me: the type of language we can use to talk about what metacognition looks like in the classroom.

Alex Quigley is quick to note the values of metacognition with the impressive statistic that it can provide ‘7 months of additional progress in 12 months’ when students use metacognitive strategies effectively. The problem is that a surprising amount of students are rather poor at metacognitive skills. Consider the default revision method (even used by university students) of reading over and highlighting notes when this has been shown to be a very ineffective strategy.[1]

To help solve this, Quigley believes that students must start metacognition early and learn the language to verbalise what is an intuitive process. To start, he defined a 3-stage process that he refers to as ‘metacognitive regulation’.[2] It is simply:

  • Plan
  • Monitor
  • Evaluate

These are things we do in our daily lives such as planning to take an earlier bus so that we are not anxious about being late to work. We monitor what the traffic is like and whether we should change to walking instead. We then evaluate whether our journey was a success. Did we arrive on time? Would we take that bus again?

This is a process that both teachers and students do in lessons all the time but Quigley says that the trick is to verbalise it. He noted how the same process looks in ‘the best Art lesson he ever saw’.[3]

  • Plan: The teacher verbalises the planning process by introducing the task and discussing the strategies needed to draw a self-portrait. What tools should we use? Why is a pencil best? How did I prepare for this drawing?

 

  • Monitor: The teacher would model a self-portrait and monitor what he was doing to create the art in real time. What shapes are being used? How should the pencil be held? How did I know where to start?

 

  • Evaluate: At the end, students and teachers evaluated the drawing done. What are the successes? What would you change? Was it a clear process? Did you struggle or was it a seamless process?

 

Coming from the land of teacher training that talked in ‘starters’, ‘objectives’, ‘main activity’ and ‘plenary’, I rather prefer Quigley’s language for the process of learning and how to structure a lesson that puts metacognition at the heart of it.

Lucia Flaherty


[1] Jeffrey D. Karpicke, Andrew C. Butler & Henry L. Roediger III (2009) Metacognitive strategies in student learning: Do students practise retrieval when they study on their own?, Memory, 17:4, 471-479, DOI: 10.1080/09658210802647009

[2] Jamie Scott (2018), Metacognition and Self-Regulation [Trialled and Tested], 8th September, Available at: https://educationendowmentfoundation.org.uk/news/trialled-and-tested-podcast-metacognition/#closeSignup, (Accessed: 09.02.21)

[3] Ibid.

Ms Fionnuala Kennedy Reviews: Some Kids I Taught and What They Taught Me

Poet, novelist and teacher Kate Clanchy tells her story, and the stories of the children she has met, taught and encouraged, over a 30-year teaching period.

Review

Firstly, I must confess something of a bias: Clanchy was my poetry tutor at college back in 1998, and so, perhaps, I can hear her human and poetic voice especially clearly in this brilliant book. But that fact aside, it is the warmth, humanity and clarity of this insight into teaching which makes this such a compelling read. Clanchy never uses jargon or pedagogical acronyms; she doesn’t talk about effective starters or lesson objectives; rather she focuses on the story-telling aspect of being a teacher, and the people-focused artistry at the heart of what we all do.

This is Clanchy’s story of her experiences teaching over a 30-year career. Clanchy’s story ranges with humour and honesty from the trials and tribulations of teacher training, to first jobs and first mistakes (she talks of those initial months as: ‘A bodily experience, like learning to be a beekeeper or an acrobat: a series of stinging humiliations and painful accidents and occasional sublime flights that leave you either crippled or changed. If you are changed, you are changed forever’), through to her current role as Writer in Residence at the Oxford Spires Academy in Oxford, one of the most multi-cultural schools in the UK where the children speak more than 30 different languages.

Of course, the tangible outcome of Clanchy’s approach is the incredible, moving poetry by her – often immigrant – students whose voices are otherwise marginalised; now, thanks to Clanchy, they are not only confident in that voice, but are published and in some cases award-winning poets. This is a book which stands up for the unheard and the unseen, whether it’s the white, working-class boys like Allen with his ‘blacksmith’s hands’, holding literature away from him because he finds it so powerful, or girls like Amina who must lie about their birthdays for fear of being sent back, or lost, angry Kylie who loses her shoe behind a radiator and ‘can’t get a ruler, and give the thing a poke, because such enterprise is beyond her’.

But it is also a book which stands up for teachers, which puts the importance of teaching front-and-centre, and reminds us to be proud of what we do, and the differences – marginal and seismic – we might make. Sometimes, it helps to have someone say you should feel proud, whether you’re a young student learning to write, or a hardened Deputy Head at the end of January…
It’s not all feel-good and comfortable, though, far from it, and of course for some of the students things don’t get much better. As such, in the writing of this book, Clanchy also serves up a timely and occasionally angry reminder of why education for all is so important, and expresses with courage and fluency the problems which sit within a divided education system. As someone who teaches in an independent school, it reminded me of the importance of our partnerships programmes – of what Clanchy would consider the responsibility of ‘patrimony as well as entitlement’ – and what lies at the heart of the Trust we all serve: to reach as many girls as possible, regardless of background.

Verdict

Five stars.

Most memorable quote

It’s not a quotation, but for impact of writing and Clanchy at her best, read Shakila’s Head pp78-84, which finishes: ‘Does she feel the lighter of it, I wonder, now it is me who has to carry the head home? Or will it be equally heavy, however often it is passed, just as much a head? Well, we can find out. Shakila’s head: the weight of it, the warmth, the cheekbones, the brains. Here you are. Catch.’