Sometimes I still forget I am not the main character in my own classroom. The more time I spend talking, the less effective my lessons often become. Application and practice are pivotal elements of learning, and I can do neither of them for my students. They have to put in the effort themselves. That said, observing their practice helps to guide my teaching and helps me make effective adjustments to practice. The more frequently I facilitate short practice sessions, the better students perform on my assessments.

It's easy to feel guilty when you allow students to do all the talking. Whenever my administrators walk into the room and students are actively engaged with one another, I have to remind myself not to interject for the sole purpose of demonstrating my own importance or value. Administrators want to see students reaching for the higher levels of Bloom's Taxonomy and to do that, they have to make a little noise. Practice sessions are not a time for teachers to be passive, the same way your classroom is not a place for your students to passively absorb information from you. Learn to give meaningful feedback that requires students to take action and model that skill for your students on a regular basis.

Placing your students in a variety of new contexts and environments, and then asking them to practice and apply the skills you've taught them is a pivotal part of transferring information from short‐term memory to long‐term memory. I found practice sessions particularly necessary with the digitization of standardized exams. When our state test went digital, I realized there were very basic skills I had taken for granted. One girl came to me in tears because she hadn't been able to scroll down during the test. Her academic skills were phenomenal but her technology skills were limited. I began reserving the Chromebook cart regularly and digitized all of my assessments. Whatever skills I planned to assess for a grade, we practiced in class—even things as simple as navigating a scroll bar.

I sought out the Deputy Commissioner of the Massachusetts Department of Elementary and Secondary Education at the time, Jeff Wulfson, to ask about the decision to go digital. “This was a mega‐project to totally redesign our tests to make sure they're fully aligned with and demonstrating deep understanding of the curriculum standards that we have updated over the last several years,” Wulfson told me, adding, “Computer‐based testing was just one facet of that. These are all new tests, new questions, new ways of assessing student performance” (2019).

Wulfson recalled an environment just a few years ago when computer labs with 20 workstations for periodic class visits were the norm across the state of Massachusetts. He viewed this practice as antiquated, replaced by an increased volume of one‐to‐one computing environments in which every student was issued a laptop or a tablet.

“We think that's a great development and an important one that computer‐based testing was just the sort of little push that districts needed to get that done,” Wulfson said (2021).

My opinion on dedicating time to test‐taking skills is sometimes unpopular. I believe test‐taking skills are life skills. Want to obtain a driver's license? You'll have to pass a test on a computer. Want to become an accountant? You'll have to pass a test on a computer. Want to work as an electrician? You'll have to pass a test on a computer. I admit there's more to it than just learning to drag and drop or sort through multiple choice questions. Still, learning to take tests is a surefire path to upward mobility. My students found digital test‐taking to be radically different from taking a test with pencil and paper. Explicitly outlining those discrepancies for students, and practicing the motor and cognitive skills necessary to be successful made a huge difference.

“We don't want people to spend too much time on test prep; we don't think that's productive,” Wulfson told me. “It's more important that they spend time studying the curriculum and learning the material, but there are some tools available to familiarize them with the computer‐based testing platform” (2021). As Wulfson suggested, the practice tests provided by the state's Testing Resource Center proved a great place to familiarize students with tech‐driven skills, prior to the summative exam. It quickly became apparent to me that students who could transfer test‐taking skills to the screen were far more likely to succeed.

Digital testing isn't going anywhere; in fact, the ability to test on a screen is becoming a life skill. The College Board now offers a digital SAT. As it stands, most careers administer licensure exams digitally. In July 2019, the Law School Admission Test partnered with Microsoft to begin offering a digital LSAT. Whether you aim to become a lawyer, doctor, plumber, or bail bondsman, you've got to pass a computer‐based test. Practice makes perfect.

WHAT'S THE THEORY?

Retrieving, introduced in Chapter 1, is also a form of practice. In this chapter, we discuss how practice strengthens higher level skills and allows for retrieval in brand‐new environments. A distinct feature of this chapter, different from retrieval, is the art of delivering effective feedback to create more mindful practice for students applying familiar information in an unfamiliar context.

Harvard psychologist Ellen Langer is a huge proponent of mindful learning. Langer defines a mindful approach to teaching with three characteristics: “the continuous creation of new categories; openness to new information; and an implicit awareness of more than one perspective” (Langer, 1997, p. 4). A mindful learner does not depend on formulaic thinking. A mindful learner applies new information and seeks fresh angles and perspectives with which to approach already familiar information. Most importantly, a mindful learner accepts the possibility that new approaches and conclusions are imminent while maintaining an attitude of openness.

“It is virtually impossible to become proficient at a mental task,” wrote cognitive psychologist Daniel Willingham, “without extended practice” (Willingham 2014, p. 107). Willingham further explains that the act of thinking requires students to combine information from their environments and their memories in new ways (p. 109). Willingham draws on the ability of math students who have memorized their multiplication tables. These students waste no energy or brainpower on calculating simple multiplication, thereby saving space in their working memories to tackle more complex problems. Willingham writes, “It is no wonder that students who have memorized facts do better in all sorts of math tasks than students whose knowledge of math tasks is absent or uncertain. And it's been shown that practicing math facts helps low‐achieving students do better on more advanced mathematics” (2014, p. 114). This is because the potential to think is not unlimited; the working memory eventually reaches capacity. By practicing a cognitive skill, humans are able to achieve a state of automaticity, thereby saving space in their working memories for new information.

Football player Dexter McCluster offers an excellent example of physical automaticity. By McCluster's senior year at Ole Miss, he had earned a reputation as the only player in SEC history to rush for over 1,000 yards and receive for 500 yards in a single season. In 2010, he was drafted by the Kansas City Chiefs in the second round and went on to play in the 2013 Pro Bowl. I asked McCluster about his career highlight and without skipping a beat he answered:

My punt return against the New York Giants. It was kind of surreal. I was on the field making the moves, but I don't know how my body was doing it, you know? I was back deep. I made the spin. Made one guy miss. Made a couple more guys miss. Then, I took it to the house. That was a pivotal moment in the game. And it was just one of those highlights where when I watched the replay I said, ‘How do I do that?’ My body just took over (2019).

McCluster put in countless hours of practice to arrive at that moment. He wasted no energy because his body knew what it had to do. He had achieved automaticity.

Like the football player who commits to an arduous practice regimen leading up to game day, our students require regular practice sessions prior to summative assessments. Even so, there is a risk of overlearning. If the football player becomes so accustomed to a practice regimen that he begins to mindlessly go through the motions, the benefits will be few and far between. Similarly, a student drilled to the point of autopilot will prevent them from refining and further developing their skills.

How can learners benefit from automaticity without overlearning? Practice and feedback. There's a reason football players practice under the guidance of a coach and teammates. Similarly, students should not be left to their own devices to practice. Peer and teacher feedback is the key to mindful learning.

Bowman Dickson and Andy Housiaux outline four “big ideas” for effective feedback in a 2021 report for Tang Institute. Their findings intend to support teachers distressed by the feeling that students are not taking the time to even read the feedback they take hours to provide. Unfortunately, a teacher's level of effort does not directly translate to a student's meaningful takeaways.

The first idea championed by Dickson and Housiaux proclaims, “Students must engage with feedback in order to learn from it” (2021). They believe it is well worth the sacrifice to dedicate class time for students to process and respond to teacher comments. It's also important to remember that feedback will be received differently by different students. Interacting with feedback might mean students annotate your comments with a plus and delta system to indicate positives (plus) and areas for improvement (delta). Older students might be asked to respond to each piece of teacher feedback in writing before making edits to their own work.

Dickson and Housiaux's second idea states, “Feedback depends on a student's identity and their relationship to their teacher” (2021). They urge teachers to consider their own power positions such as gender and race, which could be triggering for students. In classroom cultures where mistakes are valued as part of learning, teachers were more effective in the role of warm demander, a term coined by Zaretta Hammond. Dickson and Housiaux clarify, “A warm demander doesn't overpraise mediocre work, but holds high standards for all students and supports them while they progress toward them” (2021).

The third big idea from Dickson and Housiaux states, “Quality feedback focuses on specific instructional goals” (2021). Keep your comments pointed and narrow to the task. If you taught a lesson on apostrophes this week, don't bother marking up a student's paper with a million spelling corrections. Only give feedback on their apostrophe use. Comments should be targeted; you don't have to write a novel. Your feedback is not meant to turn back time and correct every error made during a student's first attempt at a new skill. Feedback is meant to meaningfully shape future approaches. Take it one step at a time.

Finally, Dickson and Housiaux's fourth big idea reminds teachers, “Feedback and grading are different” (2021). The grade you give is not an effective form of feedback. Students should be asked to grapple with your feedback before you determine their final grades. In an ideal world, students become more invested in your feedback than their final grade.

Using precious class time for “practice” can sometimes feel wasteful. As teachers, we are in constant conversation with ourselves, asking: “Is this the best use of my educational expertise?” When it comes to guided practice, the answer is yes. This is not a self‐directed activity or an opportunity for teachers to catch up on emails. Practice sessions rely on a teacher to provide feedback and play the role of coach.

In the models that follow, we explore simple ways to strengthen and condition the mind to maximize learning outcomes for students who practice.

IN SHORT

• Mastering a mental task requires practice in a variety of contexts. Practice retrieving and categorizing information in a variety of environments (digital and analog) and from multiple viewpoints.
• Memorizing a piece of information by practicing it over and over in the same way does not guarantee you will be able to recall it in a brand‐new context.
• Recognize formulaic thinking and the sensation of “going through the motions.” Should this occur, seek out a fresh angle with which you approach already familiar information.
• Peer and teacher feedback makes practice more meaningful and beneficial to the learner, particularly when students are asked to engage or interact with the feedback in some way.
• Consider your relationship with a student to determine the tone with which you deliver feedback as they practice a new skill. Remember, a grade is not the same thing as feedback.

MODELS

We have all met the brilliant kid who can write Shakespearean‐level prose, but when asked to deliver an oral presentation, she crumbles under the pressure. Just because a student is gifted in one domain does not mean she will be capable of mastering any cognitive challenge thrown at her. It takes practice.

Practice is pretty straightforward. Do something over and over, making small adjustments along the way, until your body and mind can complete the task automatically and efficiently. Physical skills certainly benefit from practice, but so do cognitive skills. Make time for brief and regular opportunities to practice the cognitive skills that will help students perform successfully on assessments. Figure out students' intrinsic motivations and determine how they connect to the new skills you are asking them to practice. Allow for feedback from you or from peers before you assign a formal grade of any kind. The following three models intend to create ideal conditions for effective practice sessions.

PRINCIPLES

Incorporating effective practice means being able to identify your priorities. As teachers, there is never enough time. Be selective. Identify what your students need to improve upon to be successful on your summative assessments. If a skill isn't going to be a priority on a well‐designed assessment, it's probably not worth taking the time to practice it.

SMALL TEACHING QUICK TIPS: PRACTICE

I know I have been adamant about the importance of allowing time for students to practice in your class and receive feedback, but this small teaching technique predominantly relies on the time you spend outside of class analyzing and strengthening your own assessments. Establish the skills your students need to be successful on your summative assessments and then provide a few little practice sessions before the big day.

• Create a timeline for yourself by prioritizing the cognitive skills students will need early in the year to be successful on your assessments. Opportunities for practice and application should directly mirror the style of your assessments.
• Review your unit plan and decide when the most appropriate times for short practice sessions will fall; indicate those dates on your syllabus so students understand their importance or make them a regular part of your weekly routine.
• Before any major assessment, stick to your practice plan. Even confident presenters will benefit from creating a main idea slide and a script to keep them on track. Provide students with specific feedback that they have to actively engage with in some way.

CONCLUSION

The impact of practice hit me hard in my teens when I had a long stint as a summer camp counselor. It was an interesting time to work at an old‐fashioned sleep‐away camp with canoes and cabins because even the youngest campers were becoming increasingly reliant on mobile phones and other emerging technology. Camp offered no cellular service and nary a wi‐fi network. We tried to curate a range of tech‐free experiences for kids who were used to being plopped in front of a television or an iPad all day long.

On Monday mornings, we would load up the bus in the gritty industrial city where I grew up. The kids would turn up their noses at my attempts to start a sing‐a‐long and at my tall tales about the camp's resident mermaid as we carted them out to farm country.

“But, are there seriously no video games?” they would plead.

“Seriously,” I told them.

By Saturday, the same boys who had balked at getting their sneakers dirty on the first day of camp would be sticky with bug juice and covered in face paint. We had to bribe them with ice cream sandwiches to convince them to get out of their bunks and pack up their things. They would cry big fat tears because they didn't want to go home. It's amazing how consistency and routine over the course of just one week can transform a little human into someone new.

I gained a lot of muscle memory working at camp. My hands learned to French braid, light campfires, and catch frogs without having to think twice. I'd watch rookie staff members build up a bottleneck, 30 kids deep, as they struggled to start the box stitch on the porch of the arts and crafts building. Meanwhile, my fingers could get a lanyard stitch going in mere seconds. There was never a line when I was on box stitch duty. I can still out box stitch anyone.

How did I become an arts and crafts wizard? It wasn't about my love of weaving strands of plastic string together at record pace. It was about providing kids with new and meaningful experiences.

The more complex the task, the more practice is required. Malcolm Gladwell famously popularized the 10,000‐hour rule, which elaborated on research conducted in the 1970s by psychologists Herbert Simon and William Chase (Gladwell, 2013). Simon and Chase estimated a chess player would require between 10,000 and 50,000 hours of practice before becoming a Grandmaster. In his book Outliers, Gladwell references Microsoft co‐founder Bill Gates as a prime example of the 10,000‐hour rule, estimating that Gates spent 10,000 hours programming, beginning in his early teens (2008). I should note that many critics objected to the idea that Gates' success was a result of practice alone. They pointed to Gates's privilege—his mother traveled in the same circles as IBM CEO John Opel. No doubt, it took more than practice for Gates to reach such great heights; nevertheless, repetition, failure, and tenacity played important roles. Privileged or not, little Billy loved nothing more than to practice.

Some quick calculations would indicate that I have started approximately 10,000 box stitch lanyards in my lifetime. That does not equate to 10,000 hours of practice, but it's still a monumental amount of time spent on such an insignificant task. Again, I was not braiding plastic strings for my own enjoyment. I did it for the kids. Like Gates, the intrinsic motivation to practice was linked to something larger than the task itself. To watch a group of video game–obsessed 10‐year‐olds quietly lost in a mindful moment with their lanyards was my reward. It's no small wonder I went on to become a teacher.

I believe this is an important distinction. You can practice anything to death, but unless you draw some sort of intrinsic value from the task, it will be difficult to master. I always advise my students to figure out what feels like arduous work to most people but brings them great pleasure.

“Practice that thing continually and then charge top dollar to the people who don't want to do it themselves,” I tell them.

For instance, I love to write, but many people find it torturous. At this very moment, my family is sitting on the beach lamenting the fact that I have to work during our vacation. Conversely, I am tapping away on my laptop in a Provincetown Cafe overlooking the ocean and I'm not sure I could be happier. I feel lucky to follow my passion, and as a result, I truly don't mind practicing.

Practice what you love, especially if it's something that other people hate, and you will reap the benefits.