What do we do with the students who put their heads down on their desks and turn their backs to the teacher during instruction? Or the ones who stare ahead listlessly—neither participating nor misbehaving in ways we can easily address?
Of course, I still include them in instruction, by calling on them directly when they don’t respond with the group. But their “huh? what was the question?” replies often drag down the class energy. And if I were to focus only on the students who are fully engaged—who give 100% of their attention—we’d quickly create a classroom divided into haves and have-nots: those who have acquired the language and those who have not.
We already have that dynamic to some extent, but it would be far worse.
My general response has been to create daily language experiences—like student interviews paired with Write & Discuss (W&D) activities—that don’t rely on what happened the day before. Students don’t need to have been mentally or physically present yesterday to understand and join the conversation today.
On good days, when I manage to draw in the girl who usually sits with her back to me, she acquires the language. It’s always a struggle with her; while others are shouting out responses quickly because they’ve been present and processing every day, she’s processing at a crawl—her mind has been in the room maybe 30% of the time.
Still, I’ve learned from experience: some students blossom later. Never give up on anyone. That hoodie-and-headphones kid you accidentally call on in April? He might surprise the whole class with a perfect response. Where did that come from?!
That’s why we design classes with multiple on-ramps—pathways for students to engage when they’re ready. One of the most inequitable things we can do as educators is create course sequences that don’t allow for this. I once consulted with a school district where a single final assessment in 7th grade determined whether students were placed on the track to AP Spanish. Imagine the weight of immaturity, challenging home lives, or limited literacy experience on a 7th grader’s performance. A kid who could blossom later, will blossom later, consigned to a less-than-rigorous track in 7th grade!
When I mentioned to the district leadership that my CA district (at that time) starts language classes in 9th grade—and we have a 100% AP pass rate—the department chair there simply said, “Not in my district.”
I get her frustration. As a teacher, it’s hard to plan meaningful, complex language experiences for the students who are ready when others hold the class back. She might argue for separate, slower tracks for those who need them—and on some level, I might agree.
But not if it means shutting the door before students have had a real chance to step in.
Let’s be honest: we know exactly who would be shut out. The line would be drawn right along socioeconomic status.
So how do we balance things? How do we support our fast processors—the ones moving through our classroom language at near-native speed—and make class accessible for the slower processors who are just now tuning in?
One key for me has been those barely-planned daily conversations, where spontaneous, rich language appears while the structure of the activity focuses on simple language. Then it all gets captured in our W&D routines. But this year, I’ve added something else:
Every day, we read a small, easy text together. Often, it’s generated in class as part of our Write & Discuss. Sometimes it’s from a previous class period—or just something I imagined on the way to work. These texts are i+1 for my slow processors, with just a few “candy” phrases sprinkled in for the fast ones.
Then on Fridays, we take on a challenge text—something a bit more complex. This gives fast processors a moment to stretch and shine. But here’s the secret: throughout the week, I’m seeding these advanced structures into our daily texts and discussions. By Friday, everyone has had multiple chances to pick them up, intentionally or not. These small activities become the weekly on-ramps.
Not ready this week? That’s okay—there’s a new challenge text coming next Friday.
I’m not a meticulous planner. But embedding these little opportunities throughout the week has helped me create a more balanced classroom—where every student, regardless of where they start, has a shot every week at meaningful engagement with language that stretches their minds.
I’ll be presenting this approach on Saturday, April 5th, at the CI in the Mitten conference in Ann Arbor, Michigan. I’ll demonstrate how I plant and grow these advanced language moments for all learners, every week. I’ll be teaching The Three Little Pigs in Japanese, assuming that my audience is full of students who have barely paid attention to me all year. Absolutely no experience in Japanese is needed– in fact, I prefer that you have zero knowledge of Japanese. Using multiple core CI strategies, I’ll build your language enough to be able to join the class when we read the challenge story together.
I hope you’ll join me!
Here’s the registration link: CI in the Mitten
Best wishes,
Mike
Read recent posts in this series about my return to the classroom:
Future Tense (March 22nd)
Everything becomes very easy (March 16th)
The Heritage Learner in my Level 1 Class (March 8th)
Students, front & Center (March 2nd)
Child Psychology (Feb 23rd)
Reading & Writing (Feb 15th)
Imagination Work (Feb 8th)
120 hours (Feb 1st)