IdeaTeaching / learning ideas tap our shoulders all the time. Which are worthy? Would Think-Pair-Share work for me, or should I try One-Minute Paper instead? Can I do both – and maybe Muddiest Point too?

When I attend a cross-discipline conference, I typically find a dozen intriguing ideas among hundreds of very good ones. Back in the office, precious gems that had been carefully captured in conference notes get buried under homework to grade, new mail, textbooks, and so on. Even eNotes are lost on my iPad, waiting to be re-discovered when I next launch that particular app. My enthusiasm morphs into “nice” ideas for next semester’s prep time – and when I do prepare for upcoming classes, I often forget that I had such plans; when I do think of them, I struggle to find details.

I now accept that I must focus and sacrifice. From the dozen possibilities, I whittle my list to no more than one or maybe two “best” ideas, trying hard to get this filtering done before I return to campus. To guide my selection, I carefully ponder those learning activities that really haven’t been very effective in the past – those seeds of opportunity.

I commit to test a new idea in a specific lesson, in a specific class, carefully integrating it by either supplementing or supplanting the older approach. How would it best fit in my class context? Do I need to demonstrate a technique? Can I invent and construct an applicable learning activity? How can I tune the lesson so that students really do learn better?

When the day for teaching with the new idea arrives, I dig deep to re-energize my enthusiasm. I can’t be passive – I can’t meekly admit that I’m conducting an experiment! After trying the idea, it’s critical that I reflect right away. How well did it work? Should I keep it? Grow it? Discard it? How should I adapt it for next time?

But what happened to those other very good ideas, the ones that failed to clear my harsh one- or two-idea cutoff? They remain filed in my subconscious, ready to bolster credibility if/when they surface again. Others – those I do not hear of again – drift into oblivion. Perhaps that’s best; they might have been simply fads. I need not worry, for the well of great ideas will never go dry.