Marginal Gains #5 pt1: High aspirations and expectant thinking

As I came back from London earlier this week, I reflected on the last remaining signs of the Olympics and Paralympics still in evidence around the city. I remembered the feelings I had experienced as the entire summer of sporting excitement had gained momentum starting with Wimbledon, The Tour De France, the Olympics, the Paralympics, The US Open and the Ryder Cup. I reflected on how the sense of hope that we shared grew into something new, as one outstanding sporting achievement after another hit the headlines. Hope morphed into expectancy. In particular, I started to wonder about the mindset of those performing.

How ‘hopeful’ was Dave Brailsford on the morning of the first leg of The Tour De France or on the morning of the first cycling competitions in London 2012? Did he hope that Bradley Wiggins would win or did he expect it? Did he hope that Team GB Cycling would reach their targets on the medal tables or did he expect it? More to the point, did he and his team communicate an expectation of success to the riders, or simply pat them on the back as they cruised to the start line and then say that they hoped they would win? This got me thinking about the relationship between thinking and speaking. The language in our heads and the language we use to communicate. There’s probably a heap of NLP stuff I should be reading up on about this, so I’ll add it to my list. For now, I’m just going to work this through here and see what you make of it. The question this raised for me was this:

How would our actions as educators change if we adopted a mindset and, therefore, a language of expectation rather than hope? And these musings led me to think about many conversations over the years with teachers during planning and reflective sessions…

Conversations in particular about how to incorporate and communicate high aspirations for learning in the design of lessons. Always, however, it has been incredibly difficult to unpick exactly what aspiration looks, sounds and feels like. Trying to actually establish an aspirational learning environment is dependent on knowing exactly what characterises it in the first place and then being able to design the environment according to those characteristics. We know that when we meet people who have high aspirations, we feel it, sense it and, therefore, we know it. They are inspirational and energising to be around. But replicating exactly what this ‘aspiration thing’ is so that we can both feel, communicate and teach for it through the learning we design is a massive challenge.

So here goes my attempt to give it a go. And as always, I begin with questions…

How do we establish a culture of aspirational learning through the language of learning that we think in and use?

What practical strategies do we need to implement in a culture of aspirational learning?

How can we deliberately develop learner aspirations through our teaching?

How do we know when it’s working?

Well, one thing I have been trying to do lately is be much more conscious about the language I think in. A tiny thing to try, hence it sits within our suite of potential marginal learning gains. I have had a go at removing the word hope from my language when I am thinking about and discussing learning intentions, objectives, success criteria and outcomes. Instead, I have tried to replace it with ‘expectation’. Admittedly, this feels a little uncomfortable. It puts you on the line and suggests a certainty in what you are intending to happen. But I wonder if it is a case of ‘fake it ’till you make it’? If we think in terms of high aspiration and use words that reflect an expectation that something will happen, then maybe that’s worth trying?

Whenever Year 10 and Year 12 students embarked on their courses, fresh new exercise books at the ready, I used to say to them that that they should get to a point during the course when they couldn’t wait for the exam itself to happen. I told them that they should feel excited and energised about it as opposed to dreading it and fearing what was about to happen. They always looked at me quizzically at this point (well, they did so most of the time, to be fair) but I would reassure them that if they knew and understood everything that we were about to cover and could articulate their thinking, ideas and arguments with confidence, then there would be nothing to fear when it came to the examination itself. In fact, they would see it as an opportunity to show off their immense knowledge, skill and understanding and hence be fidgeting with excitement at what they were about to encounter.

In thinking and talking in highly aspirational ways and trying really hard to avoid using the word ‘hope’ and with it, ‘might’ and ‘should’, I am in no ways advocating ‘hopeless‘ teaching or, indeed, a strict, no-compromise rigid and inflexible all-or-nothing succeed-or-fail approach to teaching and learning. Far from it, so please bear with me as I think this is where our marginal learning gains will come to the rescue…

Marginal learning gain: The language of expectation frames our thinking.

Often, when planning lessons together, teachers state that they hope that the students will get to the (x) task. When reflecting on lessons, teachers often say that they had hoped that the group would have achieved (x). But I wonder what might change if instead of hoping, we very deliberately thought about expecting the learning we intend/plan for to happen? What effect would that have on:

(a) How we plan and select learning activities

(b) How we deliver and structure learning

(c) How we communicate our expectations to learners

What if we thought in terms of expectation and then overtly communicated this through the language we use, as opposed to hope/ might/ could SO THAT we can create a ‘culture of expectation’ and foster a sense of agency for all our learners?

I’m still working on this, so I would really appreciate any feedback on this if you want to give it a go. There’s another post to follow, where I will share with you what happened when I noted how thinking in expectations directly informed the structuring of learning.

The Learning Cycle: #2 Compliance to Your Training (Learning) Plan

Reflecting on the second episode of “The Road to Glory”,  and inspired by a fantastic Twitter conversation with @HuntingEnglish and @macn_1, this is the second of my Learning Cycle posts. See here for #1 and #3. My PLN buddies and I had all watched the first two episodes of “The Road to Glory”, a Sky documentary about the quest of the Sky Pro Cycling Team to be the first British cycling team to win the Tour de France. Led by Team GB Cycling Performance Director, Dave Brailsford, the documentary is providing a fascinating insight into the meticulous approach that is needed to be successful at the highest level.

In the second episode, we heard how Bradley Wiggins, the team leader and ‘arrow-head’ of the Sky Pro Cycling Team, had been on a personal journey to get to the point where he was ready to be the team leader and achieve the successes that were to come his way this summer. Interviews with the team psychologist, throughout the documentary, made it clear that the role of Dr Steve Peters was integral to all the riders, but in particular, with Bradley Wiggins. Whilst Bradley’s talent is unquestionable in terms of cycling ability, he has worked with Bradley on his levels of self-belief and, as Peters refers to them, his ‘inner chimp’ to really exploit the potential of his talent. There’s a useful explanation of Peters role and his view of the ‘inner chimp’ on the Sky Pro Cycling website and he’s written about it in his book, “The Chimp Paradox”, which is now on my reading list…! Anyway, the term ‘inner chimp’ is used to describe the emotional part of the brain. I’ve always thought of it as the reptilian part, the amygdala, but I prefer the chimp analogy as it captures just how troublesome it can be when we are ruled by our un-thinking, reactionary emotions when faced with unfamiliar or challenging situations. Consider your first day of school (as a pupil or an NQT) and you’ll soon start remembering not what happened, but how it felt. That’s the chimp for you. it has no language, no ability to rationalise, it is our inner-most hub of feelings and reactions to the world around us. It is this that is often the determining factor in how well, and, at times, if, we learn.

As the trainers talked about Bradley’s approach to becoming integrated into his new  team and responding to his training plan, they used the word, “compliance”. They said that once all riders, including Bradley, had ‘complied’ to their individual training programmes, then success would inevitably follow. In the sequence that followed, this is exactly what started to happen. Even to the point of Bradley surprising everyone when he won his first ‘bunch’ sprint finish on one of the stages on the Tour of Romandie prior to the Tour de France.

But back to our  learning agenda and that word, ‘compliance’. It feels uncomfortable to talk of any form of compliance when we’re discussing learning. For me, it conjures up the concept of ‘yielding’ or ‘acquiescing’ or even ‘subjugation’. It suggests a pathway to passivity, as opposed to encouraging, if not demanding, active engagement in a process or with a system.  So as I watched the programme, I struggled to find a way in which the concept of compliance might ever be applied to learning and what we ask our learners to do. To what, exactly, must they become compliant? But then, never one to walk away from a thinking struggle, I started to play around with the idea and see if there actually was a way to apply the philosophy of ‘compliance’ in learning. So here’s what I’ve come up with…

Perhaps if learners are charged with the task of designing their own learning plans and are genuinely empowered to follow, amend and implement these, for themselves and if they comply to this, their own plan, perhaps that’s a way to adapt the concept to learning? Stephen M.R. Covey talks about the need for us to make an explicit commitment to ourselves as the very first step in achieving trust, in his book, “The Speed of Trust”. Before we can trust others, whether individuals or organisations, we must be able to trust ourselves. This means that when we say we are going to eat our five-a-day, we need to do it. Only by being committed to our own goals and making these a priority, he argues, will we be able to really know what it means to completely trust others to do the same. The “Road to Glory” documentary depicted compliance as a positive act, as a way of reducing intra-personal conflict (with oneself, and particularly, the inner chimp) and of giving in to the ‘best’ way. I had a conversation with @lucysweetman about this and she used a lovely phrase in reflecting back to me what I was saying. For the team of cyclists, their compliance was all about ‘owning their ambition’. I love this phrase and it certainly resonates with the focus of so much of my work around motivation, confidence and self-directed learning. The practical application of this concept would need to be informed by a programme of Aggregation of Marginal Gains…

How manageable would it be to ask every learner to design their own personal learning plan informed by specific, individual goals that incorporate even the tiniest marginal gains? What would this look like? To be an effective learner in (x) subject would obviously have to include knowing the technical nuances of the subject, the skills related directly to this subject and being able to apply these in a variety of different topic areas. In addition, at a micro-level, it would also be explicit about the need to arrive to the lesson on time, with an open-mind and readiness to learn, demonstrated by bringing the correct equipment, knowing what was expected and listening to others’ ideas, contributing to class discussions.

Do learners ‘own their ambition’? Where is this already happening, and if so, how effective is it? Do we ask the learners how effective their learning regime is? What ‘gains’ do their existing plans already include and how could we include some micro-gains? If they are not complying with their learning plan, what can we do to help them engage with it? Who designed the plan and who takes responsibility for monitoring it?

All of this reminded me of the work on motivation by the fabulous Educational Psychologist, Alan McLean. He highlights the ‘Three A’s’ in his work on motivation in “The Motivated School”. These are:

Affiliation – a sense of belonging and of feeling a part of a group and community, where all views and contributions are welcomed and valued.

Autonomy – ability and opportunity to make authentic choices and be self-directed in learning pathways.

Agency – self-belief and confidence that tasks can and will be achieved. Learning is both challenging and achievable.

For me, the only kind of learning plan learners can and should be expected to comply to is one that is overtly underpinned by the Three A’s above. Only in that way, can they truly own their ambition.

Here’s what @HuntingEnglish  said:

“I also like the simplicity of the ‘triple A’ model for motivation.  It gives a clarity to some of my instincts on the matter. I do think the Rosetta stone of learning is motivation – if it can be triggered and sustained then truly anything can happen. 

With all my new teaching groups this week – effort and motivation have been integral to the tone I have sought to establish – which is where the ‘bum warmer’ marginal gain was referenced!” 

Imagine the impact of every learner in a class, year group and school agreeing to ‘comply’ to their very own ‘3 A’s’ learning plan; accountable first and foremost to themselves and their self-selected personal goals. Imagine the quality learning conversations that would happen in the drafting and re-drafting of such plans. Think of the ways in which we could incorporate all of the marginal gains in what we know about learning dispositions, the skills required to be an effective learner as both subject-specific and generic experts and the understanding we have of growth mindsets if we worked alongside each learner to craft such learning plans. I’m not sure yet but this certainly feels that compliance to such a plan would be empowering, energising and motivating. It’ll be interesting to hear what you all think.

Here’s what @macn_1 said in response to this…

“Your second post has really got me thinking about how we could apply this in school – I think there is a definite opportunity for some research here – in our school, I can really see your idea of linking marginal gains to learning plans and ‘owning ambition’ working –  we already have scheduled review meetings and 20 mins of vertical tutoring time every day, so there is lots of potential for conversations to take place, frequently, … lots to think about! It’s early enough in the year to get a project going!

I’d be really keen to work with you further on this/contribute anything I can!”

Next: #3 The Peloton

The Learning Cycle: #1 Aggregation of Marginal (Learning) Gains

I’ve been trying to craft this post since watching Team GB Cycling over the during The London 2012 Olympics and, prior to that, the success of the Sky Pro Cycling Team in the Tour de France. Last night, a Twitter conversation with @HuntingEnglish and @macn_1 spurred me into getting on with it, or at the very least, starting it. We had all watched the first two episodes of “The Road to Glory”, a Sky documentary about the quest of the Sky Pro Cycling Team to be the first British cycling team to win the Tour de France. Led by Team GB Cycling Performance Director, Dave Brailsford, the documentary provides a fascinating insight into the meticulous approach that is needed to be successful at the highest level.

There’s a useful article about the Aggregation of Marginal Gains from 2010 here but to summarise what the first two episodes of “Road to Glory” have covered so far, Brailsford’s underpinning philosophy is that by identifying every component element of what it takes to win at the highest level and ensuring that each of these elements, however seemingly inconsequential, is deliberately attended to, you can put these tiny gains together as a whole so that the marginal gains result in one BIG gain. And that’s the win.

For Team Sky when preparing for the Tour de France (and, for that matter, for Team GB Cycling when preparing for Beijing in 2008 and for London 2012), every part of the team’s mechanical equipment, personal nutrition plans, hygiene and sleep regimes are discussed, analysed and attended to. In itself, this isn’t dissimilar from other high performance teams and systems. But Dave Brailsford’s approach illustrated in “The Road to Glory” explained just how precise this preparation is.

Team Sky have a customised bus with state of the art seating and lighting to ensure the idea conditions for race preparation and recovery. A dedicated team driver who ensures that the team arrive at various venues when training and in races in good time; a team chef who co-opts every hotel kitchen they stay in to ensure there’s no danger of food poisoning and that exact menus are followed, a massive team base in Belgium that houses every piece of mechanical equipment to construct every combination of bike parts to get the best out of each rider. There is also a team of trainers who get to the hotel ahead of the riders on a race day to replace all the bed linen and mattresses with hypo-allergenic linen, individual pillows and an air conditioning unit that cleans and cools the air, all of which is designed to ensure a good nights’ sleep, excellent recovery and reduce any risk of infection. There’s also a dedicated psychologist who employs the latest neuroscience to provide riders with FMRIs (Functional Magnetic Resonance Imaging) to identify psychological reactions to stress in each of the riders and provide the necessary cognitive tools to address these…and so the detailed list goes on.

What struck the three of us about this approach was the potential application of ‘aggregation of marginal gains’ for learning, from right across the whole school right into individual lessons and for individual learners. The conversation led us into what exactly it takes to be the most effective learner in any given subject or topic.

@HuntingEnglish and @macn_1 started un-picking this at a ‘marginal gains’ level and we shared ideas about how this could be communicated to learners. We talked about creating an info graphic or leading discussions, students designing information charts, diagrams and analysing samples of work at this very micro-level and build this into personal learning plans for learners so that they were able to identify, at this meticulous level, in every subject, what they needed to:

(a) Know and understand

(b) Be able to do

(c) Be Like

The application of marginal gains is already in evidence in effective practice, not least with the amount of information we are able to draw on for individual learners so we can help shape their curriculum provision to meet their needs. But it is the aggregation of marginal gains approach that has prompted me to think a bit more about this. I wonder if there’s an opportunity here to be really overt and specific in communicating to learners exactly what it is they need to do, how they need to do it and probably, as is always the case, why they need to do it at this micro-level. In addition, it may provide an opportunity to tie-in how other elements of their experiences, which may well appear to be completely irrelevant, can be attended to and can contribute to learner effectiveness. If nothing else, it does seem to resonate with a highly aspirational approach that fosters a sense of agency for each and every learner.

Here’s what @HuntingEnglish wrote when I was putting this together:

“What really resonates with me is your point about ‘learner effectiveness’. I think the ‘aggregation of marginal gains’ concept could be a powerful way for students to reflect upon their progress. We often make visible the learning objective, such as honing a given skill, then refer back to it in subsequent lessons; however, too often this process is too teacher led.

The ‘marginal gains’ approach to self-assessment could be a powerful, and simple, way of students recording their learning in incremental steps. I am thinking of a wheel diagram again, with students reflecting (perhaps as a regular lesson plenary) upon what skill they have honed, or what new knowledge they have gained. I think such precise AFL could also be motivational in a whole host of ways; from making visible the power of home learning; to illuminating how many skills they are developing in any given PBL task; to adding a competitive element to self-reflection and metacognition – a rare thing indeed! This self-reflection, with such specific focus, really has the potential to have real impact.

That idea is really sparking some ideas, from co-creating a display with a cycling spin etc. I love it when something triggers a flow of ideas! I think I am going to trial the idea with my AS English Language group, as there are so many small knowledge and skill steps to master. I will definitely put a plan into action and share how it goes.”

And @macn_1 responded as follows to the first draft of this extended learning conversation:

“I really like your emphasis on aggregation;  as you mention, most of us already applying it in everyday practice, but not linking all those smaller gains together into a holistic picture of a pupils’ progress. I think most schools now have some sort of ‘progress review’ for tutors/pupils, where we are looking across the range of subjects and pupils are setting cross-curricular targets, but lacking a sense of how these can be achieved and the understanding of the  wider impact a number of smaller adjustments could make to their overall learning and success.

 As you noted, it’s the really overt, specific nature of the concept that makes it work and could have a big impact for us – e.g. we have ‘L2L’ targets for students which they set at their review with their tutor, some are practical and some are cognitive. I’m not sure that we are entirely successful in helping students understand the potential impact of these targets, when taken together…. I’m not sure that I’ve actually ever  linked them all together either …  not sure if I’m digressing here!

I can certainly see some sort ‘record’/chart forming here, where students could note down a commitment, or ‘pledge’ (?) to make some small alterations to their learning, how they can achieve it,  and the potential impact it could have?

So much potential with this concept! Definitely interested in exploring this further/collaboration –  I have some colleagues in my dept who I know would also be keen to get involved! We’ve just finished a project with Exeter Uni around ‘Grammar for Writing’  (the name is misleading, it was really exciting!)  and I sense this could be next! Action research??”

There’s lots more to do on this and I sense it may be a case of a crowd-sourced approach via Twitter to pull all the ideas together.

I’m going to convert this post into a PDF and place it on my Learning Goggles Page with a view to it becoming a downloadable resource as it builds.

Research and Development: Learning About and Learning From

Over the past few weeks, I’ve had the pleasure of engaging in some of the very best learning conversations. I recognise these as the ‘best’ learning conversations because they are characterised by those (seemingly) luxurious and in-depth reflections on existing practice and observations. They are characterised by a meticulous observational analysis of learning and they are punctuated with frequent checks against assumptions and generalities. The way I know I’m really in one of these quality learning conversations is that the flow of dialogue is interspersed with an exchange of phrases such as, “…that reminds me of the work of [x]…” and “…ah, you should read the report on [y]” and “…I don’t know if you’ve come across it, but, I think you would really love the work of [z]”.

The on-going challenge of plate-spinning in the day job means that simply finding the kind of relevant research from leading thinkers and academics to draw on during these conversations is a task in itself. Actually having the time to make sense of the research so what we can apply it to daily practice is a whole other challenge. I am constantly fascinated by the wealth of research available to educationalists but it can feel like a full-time job to keep up with it all; a job I welcome with open arms, eyes and mind, nonetheless.

The power that external research can have on thinking and practice cannot be underestimated. But when it is coupled with internal research and contextual evidence, the potential for innovation is massive.

That’s why I am so excited about the rapidly growing numbers of individual teachers and whole school communities (staff and students together) who are already experiencing the benefit of designing professional development and learning opportunities around their own action research projects.

With that in mind, I am building (very slowly…these things take time!) a page of readings and resources that I hope will be useful for anybody wanting to develop their work in this area. I hope that these readings will be helpful in their own right, but they come from organisations and sources where some great work is happening, so if you have the time, I recommend going to the point of origin to see what else you can find. If you have any other recommended sources, please let me know so I can add them to this site for others to find.

My role over the next year includes some discreet projects and opportunities to be immersed in working in this way and I am really looking forward to sharing some of it here and reading about your experiences through your feedback.

Where practitioners and whole school communities are actively encouraged and supported to collate evidence from the learning they design, deliver and see everyday, the establishment of schools as communities of learning will become more commonplace. If in-school research can be married with external research findings, this can only be a good thing.

In Religious Education, there are just two attainment targets: “Learning about religion” and “Learning from religion”. I have always really liked the simplicity of these two targets. I wonder if they can be applied to the development of reflective practice? Something like, “Learning about research” and “learning from research”…?

The task of becoming a reflective practitioner is not an easy one, but it is certainly one that time and time again, reaps long-term sustainable benefits to both teaching and learning alike. It all promises exciting times ahead for professional development and innovation…

Coaching to develop questioning expertise

“What makes a great questioner?”

 

In my coaching work with practitioners, I work with them to un-pick the skills involved in expert questioning.

At the heart of our coaching conversation, the practitioner breaks down the whole of the issue at hand, in this instance, QUESTIONING, into its constituent parts. This enables them to build on the specific strengths of their questioning strategies. This may identify times for them when they may have used a framework such as Bloom’s to construct their questions, but found that they haven’t waited long enough to allow ALL learners to come up with a range of quality answers.

Alternatively, they may know exactly who they need and want to ask as part of an inclusive questioning strategy to ensure that everybody is included in their questioning, but when they get a response, they get over-excited, particularly when they hear the one they were waiting for and use this as a prompt that everybody is ready to move on. This then misses the chance to use the answer(s) received as an opportunity to adapt teaching to meet learning needs.

So often, the difference between good and outstanding teaching comes down to just such missed opportunities.

 

So here’s what I’ve been working on in coaching sessions with practitioners who want to develop their expertise in questioning. I hope you find this deconstruction helpful!

 

As part of the coaching conversation, I focus on the following elements:

 

1. Decide on the purpose of the question

  • Why are you posing the question?
  • To prompt deeper thinking or because you and your students need to ‘cover the ground’?
  • To illicit a range of responses or a achieve specific response?
  • To assess security of understanding or reinforce existing knowledge?
  • To find out what you need to do next in your teaching or to reassure yourself that you can stick to a fixed plan?

N.B. There is no judgement on any of these suggested purposes. It is just a way to reflect on whether questions are ‘fit for purpose’

 

2. Construct the question

  • How can you use a thinking framework, a taxonomy or a graphic organiser to design your questions? For example, inference squares, 8-way thinking, 5 Ws, Bloom’s, De Bono’s hats, SOLO, P4C and so on are all great tools and processes to construct quality questions, develop deep thinking and foster curiosity.
  • Who’s question is it? Do all the questions come from you? How do you design opportunities for students to ask their own authentic questions?

 

3. Deliver the question

  • Who will you ask what questions and at what stage of the lesson do they need to be asked for greatest effect?
  • When will you use your deliberately planned ‘Big Bang Questions’ (BBQs) and what questions can you rely on as your standard ‘go-to’ questions to ‘scatter’ throughout the lesson? How can you deliberately design lessons in response to students’ questions?
  • How will you pose your questions? What ways can you deliver your questions in a creative and engaging way? In what ways might you be able to use technology to deliver your questions for you, using apps to animate your questions and surprise pupils as the lesson progresses. Just one example, ‘Talking Animals’ is great for this but there are loads of different ways to animate your questions.
  • How could you design learning so that questions are presented as clues hidden and slowly revealed during the lesson or placed around the room or site, or give them to pupils for them to make their own meanings collaboratively?
  • Will you be the sole questioner or will you delegate some questions to be asked by students, groups or as individuals?

 

4. Wait for the answer

  • How we you ‘grow the thinking gap’ . That is the time between the question being asked and the answer being expected? There’s a load of research about  the power of such wait time, but here’s one nice summary from the Independent Thinking Blog.

5. Respond to the answer

  • What will you do with the information that comes back to you in response to the question you have asked? Handily, this links back to the first element of questioning expertise, “What is the purpose of your question?”
  • How will you respond to inaccuracies in understanding? What kind of inaccuracies are you likely to encounter? How will you use these as critical teaching moments ‘CTMs’? How will you handle the completely unexpected response? What will you do if your question illicit nothing but the ‘tumble weed’ effect and how will you adapt your teaching to address a whole-scale misunderstanding or lack of confidence with the learning?

 

Trying to develop expertise in questioning involves reflecting and developing all of these elements in order to master one coherent approach to achieve the greater goal of, “Fostering curiosity”. In a coaching conversation, focusing on developing questioning expertise provides a rich vein of exploration and many opportunities for very specific formative lesson observation. 

 

The complexity of learning is constantly matched by the complexity of teaching. I am always mindful of the dangers of un-picking expertise in this  very specific way. If we’re not careful, teaching could be reduced to a mechanical activity.  We may then start to think of it as a straightforward checklist of processes, rather than the more organic craft that we all know it to be.  So having deconstructed these elements, the trick is to coach the practitioner to be able to stick everything back together, ready to be applied with confidence back in their busy classroom.

 

For me, then, questioning continues to be hold my fascination. I use a variety of formats to support formative lesson observation as part of my coaching practice. Each one takes a specific element of questioning and limits the focus of the observation to describe (not interpret or judge) what takes place in a specific time period within or over a series of lessons. I am always testing new versions so that I make sure I can capture exactly what it is the practitioner has asked me to look for. 

 

Once we become expert questioners, we are likely to be far more confident to continuously model what great questions sound like and, more importantly, the effect that posing a great question has.  This is equally true for coaches and practitioners. In this way, students are far more likely to develop confidence as expert questioners in their own right. It is at this moment, when students take responsibility for the lion’s share of the questioning during a lesson that curiosity will reign supreme!