Lesson plans of some form are vital. Fixation on their format is distracting. One of the ways schools frustrate new teachers is by forcing them to submit lesson plans written according to complicated templates. When teachers spend more time fretting over format than determining procedure, there is a problem.
Teachers need a destination and a route. They need to know what content or skills students must learn. They need to know their students’ abilities along with any necessary accommodations. Finally, they need some method of imparting the content or skills. This is a heap of information. The lesson plan should be a reliable way to streamline it.
The least desirable quality of a lesson plan is complexity. Ideally, the written plan should be something a substitute can follow without difficulty. The actual teacher typically shouldn’t need the plan during instruction, although using it as a guide is fine. It should be easy to use. It should read like a recipe. The plan need only be an objective, a list of materials, any accommodations, and a brief step-by-step procedure. Depending on the lesson, some assessment could be included. The key is simplicity. What it looks like shouldn’t matter, as long as it’s usable. It should be part of a sequence, but isolated lessons have a place as well.
Enter accountability. Many parents demand it. Most states demand it. Thus, schools require transparency regarding planning. Policy varies, with some schools insisting teachers post plans where students and parents can access them and others only requiring submission to administration. Perhaps students and parents should have access to daily plans, or at least to a calendar of upcoming lessons and corresponding assignments. Administrators probably should have access to these as well. Accountability measures keep teachers from slacking on planning while providing stakeholders with assurance that systematic instruction is happening.
The trouble begins when schools insist on highly detailed plans for all lessons. This isn’t practical and instead is counterproductive. Yes, any plan should include the components described earlier, but these can be stated succinctly. Confident teachers could keep these in a day planner or even on sticky notes. Making teachers write plans that include “essential questions” and “assessment anchors” often forces the stretching otherwise good ideas to fit artificial and unnecessary constructs. It also wastes teacher’s time and insults them by suggesting a lack of professional faith.
State standards aren’t inherently evil, as many education professionals suggest they are. Curriculum guides aren’t either. New teachers benefit greatly from having a scope and sequence for instruction. Some schools insist teachers take plans directly from these guides, bypassing the controversy over plans. Others require teachers to take everything in the classroom and make it fit an inflexible template. Failure to comply can lead to punitive action. School officials (and the whole of education law) tend to ignore notions of positive reinforcement.
What stings more is inconsistency. Some schools don’t require teachers to submit any kind of plans. Are teachers in these schools more dependable and less in need of supervision than those in other schools? Probably not. Are these school loosely run, chaotic messes without any form of oversight? Most often, no. The best teachers in these schools almost certainly have their own systems for planning, but no one holds a magnifying glass over them. Learning typically isn’t compromised. This is an indictment of the schools that require them.
Inequities develop within schools, too. Special education teachers might be exempt from writing and submitting plans. The rationale? They collaborate with general education teachers on accommodations, but aren’t authoring their own plans (this assumes they’re supporting students with IEPs in the general education classroom and curriculum). Additionally, these teachers are busy enough with developing IEPs, conducting progress monitoring, and other special education-specific responsibilities that exemption from planning makes sense. It doesn’t always sit well with equally busy general education teachers. When special education teachers do have to write plans, the results can be maddening. They frequently must attempt to fit scripted lessons from commercial interventions into convoluted templates meant for totally different kinds of lessons.
Colleges of education train teacher candidates to write detailed plans. This makes sense in college, as it forces these students to consider the reasons behind each decision and action in a lesson. Student teachers find themselves dumbstruck if they learn their cooperating teachers aren’t required to write plans. They might almost be relieved to end up in schools in which they must write them. Upon hire, that relief will last until around the end of the first month.
When schools require overly detailed lesson plan formats, they’re giving strained professionals one more task that mostly serves to complicate their jobs. It also suggests their judgement isn’t completely trusted. Teachers should practice their craft like someone is watching, but with confidence and pride instead of fear of reprimand. Employing sensible accountability is an asset. Making teachers grind out twenty or more multipage plans per week is a burden. Teachers shoulder enough of these.