Anglophone group

You know the one.

The brilliant protocol from a PD session.

The reflection routine you meant to try.

The discussion structure you saved in a folder somewhere.

Great ideas, sitting there like clothes in the closet with the tag still on.

And honestly, it makes sense.

For those who haven’t tried it yet, here’s the idea: instead of introducing new content during class and leaving exercises for homework, students explore the material before class through short videos, readings, or tasks. This frees up class time for active learning: discussions, problem-solving, collaboration, and applying concepts in meaningful ways.

Why it matters for us as teachers:

• Class time becomes more student-centered and interactive.

• We can give targeted support to students who need it most.

• It encourages autonomy and deeper engagement with the material.

Of course, it’s not without challenges: ensuring all students come prepared, designing pre-class tasks that actually work, and balancing guidance with independence can take some trial and error.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about the quiet moments in the classroom—the ones we sometimes rush to fill.

But what if silence isn’t a gap in learning… but where the learning actually settles in?

Silence gives students time to think, process, form their own questions, and build confidence before they speak. It’s where ideas take shape. And yet, it can feel uncomfortable—for them and for us.

I’m trying to lean into that discomfort a little more. To count to ten before rephrasing a question. To resist jumping in with a prompt. To allow students to sit with their own thinking.

Have you noticed the power of silence in your own teaching?

How do you create room for those quiet moments of reflection?

I used to think teaching only meant clear lessons, tight objectives, and content delivered efficiently.

Then one day, I walked into class and wrote a single question on the board:

“Why do humans invent things—and where do our ideas come from?”

No slides. No lecture. Just curiosity.

At first, there was silence. Then a hand went up. Then another.

By the end of the hour, students were talking about nature, skateboards, birds, prosthetics, connecting ideas I hadn’t even considered.

Good morning and happy Friday,

I’ve been thinking a lot about student-centered

classrooms lately. What does it really look like when students are driving the learning?

Is it more choice? More voice? More flexibility?

What are the small shifts that make the biggest difference?

Would love to hear how you all bring student-centered practices to life in your classrooms. Let’s share ideas and help each other.

Which is essential for differentiated instruction?

A) Standardized test

B) Teacher's guidebook

C) Digital tools

D) Uniform syllabus

Should we continue giving homework to our students, or is it time to rethink this practice?

What do you think?

Hi everyone,

Just a reminder that inclusion is really just compassion in action. Every time you adjust an activity, offer multiple ways to participate, or take the time to listen to a student’s needs, you’re making a difference — not just for that one learner, but for the whole class.

You’re already doing the work — and it matters.

Let’s keep learning from each other:

What’s one small change you’ve made that’s helped make your classroom more inclusive?

Looking forward to your ideas!

Every day in the classroom, our words leave a mark.

A word of encouragement can become a lifelong source of motivation.

A hurtful comment can leave scars for years.

What if, for just one week, we committed to practicing impeccable speech?

Not to be perfect, but to be fully aware of the power we hold with our words.

Not to control our students, but to strengthen trust, connection, and mutual respect.

In many classrooms, teachers unintentionally take on the bulk of the cognitive load—planning, deciding, explaining, and solving problems for students. While this might feel like the best way to ensure everything runs smoothly, it often leads to disengagement and a lack of ownership from our students.

What if the key to deeper learning wasn’t in doing more for students, but in doing with them?

One simple strategy can change everything:

Track who’s doing the thinking.

Ask yourself:

• Who talks more—you or them?

Yesterday, during the workshop I gave on CLIL & Pluriliteracies in Spain, one of the teachers asked what backward design was.

I gave him the following example. Imagine you want your students to understand how different climate zones affect human activity. With backward design, you start with:

• What is the key undersranding I want my students to understand?

• Then you decide how will my students demonstrate their understanding? maybe by creating a presentation comparing how people live in two different climate zones.

• Only then do you plan the actual lessons—looking at maps, analyzing case studies, discussing adaptations. Everything is built around that final goal.

💥 And you? Do you use backward design in your planning? How does it work for you?