Design-Minded Thinking Across Content Areas

elements explore just what it means to think like a designer when solving a particular pedagogical problem or classroom conundrum. f Redesigning for K–2: We use Doug’s experience and expertise as a classroom teacher to inform this book. However, that experience only includes teaching grades 3–6. We know some things in a K–2 classroom don’t translate directly to a grades 3–5 one. In these elements, Doug uses his knowledge to help those who teach younger students, but with the understanding that this advice, while within his expertise, lies outside his personal experience. f Reflection questions: At the end of each chapter, reflection prompts invite you to think about who you are as a teacher, reflect on what Doug offers through his experiences, and imagine the classroom you want to design for yourself and your students.

Part 2, “Becoming a Design-Minded Teacher,” specifies successful and unsuccessful design projects using Doug’s classroom as the setting for anecdotal observation. This part focuses on the nitty-gritty, minute-by-minute details of what being a design-minded teacher means. Some examples include a review of why borrowing and sharing each other’s design plans is a good thing and how people can find inspiration in other’s work. We start by offering some specific designs in chapter 8 (page 119). Teachers can implement the projects in this chapter directly into the classroom. Or, based on an individual classroom and context, they can break Doug’s plans down for parts and use what works best for them and their classroom. Chapter 9 (page 153) is all about assessment in the design-minded classroom, from teacher evaluation to grades. We even explore how to reconcile design-minded teaching with large-scale, state-mandated tests. Then, in chapter 10 (page 171), we consider the role of cure-alls, the concept of buy-in, and trust. In this chapter, we lean fully into failure by candidly exploring the ways a teacher, class, and school can struggle to stay in a design-minded headspace. We aim to be transparent and avoid any implications of ease; design mindedness won’t solve all of a classroom’s woes. This part offers ways to mitigate the struggles and supply a common language supporting lasting relationships and learning habits. It includes recommendations on how to engage wary students and even warier adults and explores how to evaluate projects created via the design process by reviewing grading and state tests.

We end the book by addressing common questions about how this process can be slow and untraditional and again highlighting why we believe it’s all worth it.

A Note About Citation Practices

Every author surely sits down with the best of intentions when writing their manuscript. From the start, we intended to ensure the cited research includes a diverse and rich collection of voices from inside and outside the classroom. Our good intentions, though,

were no match for the way information often gets disseminated in education. There are a few reasons for this, including the consequences of writing a book in 2020 during the global COVID-19 pandemic. However, that was just a short-term (albeit massive) disruption. Historical patterns play a much larger role in deciding who is an “expert” in education. Even though teaching is a field dominated by women, we frequently assume men outside the classroom are more likely to hold the title of expert. At the same time, the person behind high-profile or well-respected research in education is most likely white. This, too, is part of the grammar of schooling.

Following the profession’s feminization during the rise of common (later, public) schools beginning in the 1830s, a new class of educators emerged. Known as schoolmen, these principals, superintendents, college professors, and consultants wrote many words and had many opinions on how schools should operate. The rise of the schoolmen resulted in what sociologist Christine L. Williams (2013) calls the glass escalator. This term refers to the way straight men racialized as white in women-dominated professions are more likely to fall into positions of leadership. In other words, if Doug had a nickel for every time someone asked him when he was leaving the classroom to become a full-time consultant, he could pay to fly any teacher interested in observing his classroom out for a visit. As they often recommended each other as school experts, schoolmen created a cultural norm where those who teach are mostly women and those who lead, advise, or critique education are mostly men (Borgioli Binis, 2016, 2019). Add to that a long history of white parents enacting laws and policies to keep the public education resources away from children of color, and we end up with a world of design in the classroom that is exceptionally white. Harvard Graduate School of Education professor Jal Mehta (2014) noticed the pattern in an article titled “Deeper Learning Has a Race Problem.” As a response to his essay, Gia Truong (2014), chief executive officer at Envision Education, offered:

Educators have the power in a classroom. They have the ability to shape their students’ experiences of school and their identities as learners. Because of this, they need to understand their privileged position, and then they need to understand the people on the other side of the biggest desk in the room.

These words are a reminder: we need to be conscious of who we cite and how we engage with the literature. We need to actively seek out expertise and inspiration from educators who’ve often been historically muted or minimized. We are grateful to Christen A. Smith, who is the founder of Cite Black Women, and Sara Ahmed (2017), who reminds us all, “Citation is how we acknowledge our debt to those who came before; those who helped us find our way when the way was obscured because we deviated from the paths we were told to follow” (p. 17).

Throughout this book, we’ve done our best to heed that advice and cite a diverse range of experts on deeper learning, learning sciences, design in the classroom, pedagogy, assessment, and more. We know we fell short. Like any good designers, though, we’re