I Have Questions and So Should You (You Might Say They Are Essential)

I currently teach a class in 2Rev’s graduate program (M.Ed in Competency-based Education) for educators in Jefferson County Public Schools in Kentucky. We’ve reached a point in the course where we’re designing Deeper Learning curricula, bringing together assessment, instruction, and disposition into a larger structure. This week we’re talking specifically about engagement and even more specifically about essential questions.

Brainstorms are messy. (Image by Author)

If you ask the right question—one that’s intriguing, compelling, fascinating, provocative, or maddening—the kids will lead you down the rabbit hole. You wouldn’t be able to stop them if you wanted to.

I noticed this early on when I taught ninth grade World History 20 years ago. During the World Religions unit, the atmosphere in the room changed. We were talking around two essential questions: 1) what do people think is right and wrong? And 2) why do they think that? You may not realize, but 14-year-olds are enthralled by right and wrong. The conversations for those six weeks were extraordinary. The essential questions weren’t only hooks, but power sources.

So, the task is to write good essential questions. I’ve always believed in Harlan Ellison’s maxim: Writers write; that’s what they do. Instead of talking about essential questions, I set up an exercise for my folks to write a good number of essential questions right there in class. Then, digging deeper, we’d write a bunch of driving questions. Driving questions live under the essential questions, pointing students towards fruitful inquiry.

The first step of the protocol was to write five essential questions in the next ten minutes. These were questions that might actually be used in the units they were planning. The second step of the protocol, after we’d shared essential questions, was to, in five minutes, write as many driving questions as you can.  Fun. Right? It produces a lot of raw thought in a short amount of time, and bypasses the inner editor.

But I started thinking. What are the essential questions I use when I teach this grad class that I’m teaching right at this very moment? I hadn’t thought of it like that for a long time, and even if I had, it’s always a question worth revisiting. So, I did the exercise along with my folks. 

What they did was amazing. One of the questions—these are paraphrased—was for primary grades, What does it mean to be fair (equitable)? Just try talking to a primary age kid who thinks something unfair is going on. You will not get a word in. Another was, How can we help kids come up with their own essential questions? A biology teacher asked, Have humans stopped evolving? How would we know? Yes! I would take that class.

The course I am teaching now is called “60/40: Instructional Design.” It takes place roughly halfway through the program, and it asks learners to take everything they’ve learned in the program so far and put it into practice–ensuring a deeper learning experience and deeper learning outcomes for all. Here is what I came up with for this graduate class:

Essential Questions (come up with five)

1. What is the relationship between curriculum, instruction, and assessment?

2. How can I create solid plans that are flexible enough to allow for agency and individuality?

3. How can I work with colleagues to support this work while I support their work?

4. How can I give up control and let the kids lead?

5. How can I guide kids without stepping on their agency and curiosity?

6. How can I sort through all the frameworks we’ve discussed in this program to find what works for me?

7. How can I implement this kind of change in my classroom when my classroom exists in a system that seems indifferent (or hostile) to this change?

That was seven. They’re a bit rough, and there’s overlap between them, but I’ve definitely got raw material to work with. The next step is more of a free write or brainstorm. Pick one of those essential questions and write driving questions for it. As many as you can in five minutes.

Driving Questions

• How can I give up control and let the kids lead?

• Do I want to give up control?

• Why do I want to give up control?

• If giving up control is good, why hasn’t it already happened?

• What are the benefits of me having control? What are the downsides?

• What are the benefits of kids having control? What are the downsides?

• What will the impact of giving up control be for kids? Parents? Colleagues? Admin? Funding? Etc.

• Can I give up some control? How much is the right amount to give up?

• Do the kids want control?

• What would they do with control?

• How can I teach them to use control for good?

• Is that controlling?

• Can we say kids have control if we compel attendance?

• Do kids have control if they aren’t allowed to opt out?

• Who (or what forces) opposes giving kids more control?

• Why do they oppose it?

• What are they afraid of?

• What are they afraid of losing?

• Who are my allies?

• What are my hopes in giving up control?

• What do I envision happening?

That’s a lot of questions and none of them are rhetorical. Every single question sustains inquiry. You don’t have to answer all of them, or many of them, or even any of them (you are adults, I can’t make you do this), but you should work with these questions. Or at least work with your questions. If you don’t know what your questions are, start writing some and keep going. Think of it as a form of play. They won’t be hooks; they’ll be power sources.