The Revolution will be Pedagogical
I've spent the better part of my life in schools.
Learning in them, teaching in them, observing them, trying to improve them, being inspired in them, being disappointed by them—but ultimately still being in awe of this space we get to create with other humans where we are intentionally trying to evolve.
I love it.
I love the possibility of it.
I love that every August, thousands of educators and millions of young people walk into classrooms carrying different stories, identities, questions, gifts, and dreams, and together attempt to create something that did not exist before. I love that schools, for all their flaws and contradictions, remain one of the few places in our society where we intentionally gather across difference in pursuit of growth, understanding, and collective becoming.
That may sound idealistic.
But after years as a teacher, researcher, professor, policy advocate, instructional designer, nonprofit leader, and consultant, I've come to believe that our school years are the most consequential of our lives. Those years shape how we experience ourselves and one another.
Every day, schools answer unspoken questions about belonging and power.
Who gets to speak?
Who gets listened to?
Whose knowledge matters?
Who gets to create?
Who gets to decide?
Who gets to imagine what is possible?
These are not philosophical questions, they’re pedagogical.
Praxis…I’m talking about Praxis (for my Iverson fans 😜)
But seriously, praxis - the ongoing dance between reflection and action. The practice of paying attention. The willingness to adapt, respond, question, create, and become alongside the people in our care is the promise that keeps me coming back to schools.
Too often, we talk about teaching as though it were a science alone. We search for the right program, the right intervention, the right sequence of steps, the perfectly vague curriculum. We want certainty. Replicability. Predictability.
But teaching is an art.
No lesson ever unfolds exactly as planned. No classroom is ever truly static. Every day we enter spaces filled with different histories, identities, emotions, aspirations, fears, curiosities, and possibilities. The conditions are always changing because the people are always changing.
Pedagogy is what allows us to move with that complexity.
It is the difference between reading sheet music and playing jazz.
The standards may provide the melody. The lesson plan may establish the structure. But pedagogy is the improvisation. It is how we listen. How we respond. How we build on what emerges. How we create something that could not have existed if we simply followed a script.
The best educators I know are not merely delivering content. They are paying exquisite attention.
They notice when curiosity sparks in a student's eyes and follow it.
They recognize when a discussion needs more challenge or more care.
They sense when students need structure and when they need freedom.
Pedagogical praxis requires humility because it asks us to release the illusion of control.
Like a jazz ensemble, a classroom becomes a space of mutual influence. We shape the environment, but the environment shapes us. We guide students, but students also teach us.
The work is not to perfect the performance.
The work is to stay in relationship.
To remain responsive.
To continue evolving in concert with the people entrusted to our care.
The revolution will be pedagogical because pedagogy is where our humanity lives, where we commit to creating the conditions where people can show up whole in the full potential and dignity of their humanity.
Through our pedagogy young people are invited to imagine and shape the world as it could be, not as it is…and that (if you ask me) is revolutionary.
