Our day begins with a morning routine. My second graders write the date, describe the weather, identify something on the day’s schedule, and add an “I” statement about something they want to share. They might write about going to the store or attending a party. Sometimes, the conversation takes a turn toward something a sibling said or a surprising thing they heard.

Those moments give us something to think about together. Someone said it, but does that mean we know it is true? What would help us find out? Before we accept the information and move on, I ask students to pause, look, and think.

During phonics, that language returns. A student sounds out hit but uses a long i. We slow down, examine the spelling, and return to the short vowel sound, like the one in itch. Our phonics materials reinforce the same sequence visually: a clock for pause, a magnifying glass for look, and a child with a lightbulb overhead for think.

Later, in math, a student may start adding as soon as two numbers appear. Again, we pause, look, and think. What does the symbol actually tell us to do? This problem asks us to subtract.

These are ordinary moments in my bilingual classroom. They happen as we move through the day. Checking a vowel sound, interpreting an operation symbol, and investigating a claim require different knowledge. What connects these moments is the interruption of an automatic response: slowing down long enough to examine something before deciding.

The lessons are different. Why does the thinking feel so connected?

Another Literacy on the List

I recently returned from presenting at the National News Literacy Conference, thinking about how we help people make sense of information.

We talk about news literacy, media literacy, digital literacy, and AI literacy. Then I heard someone mention social media literacy on an education podcast. I understood why the term existed, but I also caught myself wondering: How many literacies are we going to have?

Each label points toward something worth teaching. Students need to understand how information is created, communicated, selected, and shared. They need knowledge about the particular environments they encounter, not simply a general instruction to “think critically.”

But from a teacher’s perspective, the growing list can also sound like a growing collection of separate responsibilities. Another literacy. Another initiative. Another thing to fit into a day that already has very little room.

I began wondering whether we are sometimes separating the instruction before we have helped students recognize the connections.

The Connections Between the Labels

In my earlier article, The Science of Everything: Applying the Science of Reading in a Multilingual Reality, I explored what happens when the Science of Reading meets the full reality of a multilingual child. Explicit literacy instruction matters, but it takes place alongside oral language, culture, relationships, background knowledge, and classroom routines. Recognizing those connections helps us understand how to put research into practice.

The literacy of everything begins with a related question: What becomes possible when we look across the categories instead of only within them?

News, media, digital, and AI literacy all involve interpreting information, but they are not interchangeable. Understanding how reporting is sourced is different from understanding how an AI system produces a response. Examining an advertisement involves questions about persuasion that may differ from the questions we bring to a scientific study.

The specific knowledge matters. A familiar thinking routine cannot substitute for it.

Across these different literacies, we often ask similar questions: Who created this? What is its purpose? What evidence supports it? What context might be missing? What am I assuming?

Students can learn to recognize when those questions are useful. Teachers can help them make the connections deliberately.

Knowing What to Do When We Are Unsure

At the conference, participants examined unusual images, studies, and claims, including real examples alongside fabricated and AI-generated material. Some real examples seemed unlikely. Some false ones looked convincing.

That uncertainty gave us something more interesting to discuss than whether someone had guessed correctly.

The activity responses illustrated an important distinction. Several questions asking participants to identify real or fabricated examples received more incorrect answers than correct ones. On the final question, however, 35 of the 39 submitted answers correctly identified locating the original study or source as the verification strategy.

These were different questions, not a before-and-after measure of learning. What interested me was the difference between deciding whether something was real and recognizing a useful next step for checking it.

I do not want students to leave a lesson believing that careful thinkers can always spot false information immediately. Sometimes the responsible response is to recognize that we do not know enough yet.

That is where the next move matters. Can we find the source? Can we examine the context? Can we explain what would change our minds?

With my second graders, I use Pause, Look, Think. With older learners and adults, I use Pause, Look, Reflect. It is the same underlying habit with different scaffolding. The language needs to be usable by the people in front of me, not preserved as a rigid formula.

The pause gives us time to notice what we need to learn or investigate next.

Making the Connections Visible

Recognizing a shared habit does not mean students will automatically use it in a new setting. We have to help them see when it is useful and what needs to change.

One place to begin is with the language we already use. Instead of introducing every new literacy as unfamiliar territory, we can ask students what they recognize. Have we considered an author’s purpose before? Have we compared evidence? Have we changed an interpretation after learning something new?

Then we can identify what is different. What do we need to know about this source, medium, or tool? Which familiar questions still help, and which new questions belong here?

This gives teachers a practical starting point when planning instruction: identify the thinking students have already practiced, make the connection explicit, and teach the additional knowledge the new context requires.

Students do not encounter the world one literacy at a time. A video can combine scientific claims, persuasive language, images, captions, and an invitation to share. Understanding it may require several kinds of knowledge at once.

Our teaching can acknowledge that complexity without making every encounter feel like five separate lessons.

There will be new tools and new forms of information. We will need to learn about them and teach what makes them distinctive. But before adding another isolated responsibility to the list, we can ask where it connects to the work already happening.

Perhaps the literacy of everything is not another literacy.

Perhaps it is an invitation to teach the connections as intentionally as we teach the differences.

Alex Luciano is a bilingual elementary educator, STEM advisor, and professional development presenter whose work focuses on interdisciplinary computer science education, AI literacy, multilingual learners, and classroom-centered technology integration. He teaches second-grade bilingual education and works with educators on practical approaches to AI and computer science that keep teacher decision-making, creativity, and real classroom learning at the center. His writing explores the intersection of education, technology, language, and instructional practice, with a focus on helping educators see how computational thinking and problem-solving already exist across everyday learning experiences.

To be reminded why your work is so very important and for more stories and advice, visit our collection of teacher perspectives at The Art of Teaching.

You can view the McGraw Hill Privacy Policy here: http://www.mheducation.com/privacy.html. The views and opinions expressed in this blog are those of the author, and do not reflect the values or positioning of McGraw Hill or its sales.

The Literacy of Everything was originally published in Inspired Ideas on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

By Kathryn A. Booth, RN-BSN, RMA, RPT, CPhT, EFR, MS

In the age of AI, healthcare careers aren’t only for students who want face time with patients. Educators can help widen the door.

Ask a middle or high school student to picture a career in healthcare, and they’ll usually picture a nurse or a doctor in an office or at a bedside. If they don’t see themselves in that picture, many decide healthcare isn’t for them.

That assumption has always been too narrow. In the age of AI, it’s also out of date.

A bigger map of healthcare

AI is changing what entry-level healthcare work looks like. It is automating routine tasks, supporting clinical decisions, and generating enormous amounts of data. Someone must manage, review, and make sense of all of it.

That creates a layer of opportunity between the data and the patient: people who work behind and alongside the AI, or the often-referenced “human in the loop.” Consider what that work looks like with patients:

• Managing wearable and remote monitoring technology, so patient data flows reliably and early warning signs get noticed.
• Reviewing AI-generated clinical documentation for accuracy, completeness, and compliance before it becomes part of a patient’s record.
• Evaluating AI-generated data to catch errors, flag anomalies, and keep results trustworthy.
• Looking at social determinants of health, such as reading a patient’s data and recognizing that they might need a service like Meals on Wheels.

These roles require real healthcare knowledge, but they don’t require a student to be the person comforting a patient. For a student who is analytical, detail-oriented, or more comfortable with data than with small talk, that’s a meaningful difference. Healthcare can be a place where they belong, thrive, and leverage their strongest assets.

Within my healthcare practice across education and clinical settings, I’ve too often seen students ruled out of healthcare careers because they are perceived as or perceive themselves as lacking the gift of bedside manners. This moment excites me, because we have an even greater opportunity to place more learners on a successful, rewarding healthcare career path.

Of course, patient-facing careers still matter, and the human qualities of empathy, communication, and ethical judgment remain essential in all of them. We should absolutely continue to cultivate these skills in all our learners — but at the same time, we should also be sure that no student graduates high school believing that healthcare isn’t an option for them.

Healthcare education for a new era

Think about it. Middle and high school educators now have two very complementary opportunities in this unique moment. Ask yourselves:

1. How does our school encourage students to get into healthcare? Interest comes first. Students can’t pursue a field they’ve never been shown, and they won’t be drawn to one where they can’t imagine thriving as their authentic selves.

2. How do we help them see how they fit? This is where we can be more inclusive and more specific. Anyone can work in healthcare. Our role is to help each student find the part that works for them.

Healthcare education for tomorrow, in today’s classrooms

Be inclusive in how you talk about healthcare. Show students the full range of roles, including the data, documentation, monitoring, and coordination work that supports patient care. Include both traditional careers and the new ones taking shape, such as AI clinical documentation specialists, remote patient monitoring technicians, digital health navigators, and clinical data quality technicians.

Help students understand their own strengths. Make space for students to reflect on how they work best, including how comfortable they are building relationships with others. A student who thrives in one-on-one conversation and a student who thrives in quiet, careful analysis can both have a future in healthcare, just in different places.

Teach durable skills explicitly. Many students arrive without a strong foundation in communication, adaptability, critical thinking, or professionalism, and every healthcare role depends on them. Evaluating an AI recommendation takes the same critical thinking as evaluating any other source. Reviewing documentation takes attention to detail. Instead of assuming students have these skills, teach them explicitly.

Make relevance constant. Students ask why they need to know something, and in healthcare, there’s always a good answer. Say it often and make it personal: you need to know this because you could work in this area, and you have this skill. Tying content knowledge to a real role, and to the strength a student already has, is one of the most effective ways to keep them engaged, motivated, and confident.

Teach AI literacy alongside the content. Students should understand how AI systems work, what they can and can’t do, and the ethical questions they raise, including patient privacy, cybersecurity, and algorithmic bias. Students that will someday be reviewing an AI-generated note or evaluating AI-generated data need the clinical knowledge to recognize when something looks wrong.

Start with foundational content and skills

Content knowledge is the common thread. Whether a student ends up at the bedside or behind the data, they’ll need to understand how healthcare works.

That’s what we’ve built Careers and Basics of Health Science to provide. This foundational CTE program for grades 8–12 and its content was reviewed and endorsed by the National Consortium for Health Science Education and HOSA Future Health Professionals. It starts by building core knowledge, from medical terminology and safety to legal and ethical responsibilities and communication and employability skills, then explores careers across therapeutic services, diagnostic services, health informatics, support services, and biotech. With more than 250 healthcare occupations, the occupation profiles describe daily responsibilities, education requirements, certifications, and job outlook, helping students see which roles might fit them.

An opportunity to open doors

AI will redefine the work of our entry-level healthcare professionals and widen the range of roles they can occupy. The most successful graduates will combine strong healthcare knowledge with digital competency, adaptability, and interpersonal skills, and they’ll be able to say where they fit and why.

If we want more students to choose healthcare, and to find the right place within it, we must show them that the door is open to everyone.

Explore the program, authored by Kathryn A. Booth: Careers and Basics of Health Science

Kathryn A. Booth, RN-BSN, RMA (AMT), RPT, EFR, CPhT, MS is a registered nurse (RN-BSN) with a master’s degree in education as well as certifications in phlebotomy, pharmacy technician, and medical assisting. She is an author, educator, owner, and consultant for Total Care Programming, Inc. She has over 35 years of teaching, nursing, and healthcare work experience that spans five states. As an educator, Kathy has been awarded the teacher of the year in three states where she taught various healthcare education courses including Health Science Education. Kathy serves on the American Medical Technologists registered Phlebotomy Technician Examinations, Qualifications, and Standards Committee. Kathy’s larger goal is to develop current, dynamic healthcare educational materials to promote the healthcare professions.

In a Future Transformed by AI, Anyone Can Work in Healthcare. was originally published in Inspired Ideas on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

At McGraw Hill, our work is informed by the experiences of the many former educators on our staff. This series highlights their perspectives.

I recently turned 40. For many people, that’s a major milestone, but for me, it felt less like a milestone and more like a midpoint. The middle of a story. My story. Forty years of highs and lows, joy and heartbreak, beginnings and endings, and still, every single day, searching for the light.

One thing I’ve constantly tried to hide is my accent. I’ve wanted — for so long — to just sound like everyone else. To speak fluid, effortless English. To blend in, belong, tuck away everything that lives behind my story, and simply… be one more of the crowd.

Growing up in Venezuela, I was lucky enough to attend a private school that offered English classes once a week. Even though that was a privilege, I’m genuinely grateful for it. But looking back, once a week wasn’t enough. It was never going to be enough to prepare anyone for the globalized, interconnected world we live in today. I graduated high school with minimal English — and I mean minimal.

When I started college, I met so many people from different high schools, but there was one thing I noticed, one thing I quietly admired: the students who came from truly bilingual schools. They moved between two languages like it was nothing. I was fascinated by their bilingualism and… their lack of an “accent.”

So when it was time to work, I knew exactly that I wanted to be a teacher in one of those bilingual schools. A good college friend and classmate of mine had graduated from one of those schools, and one day she said to me, “I know the director; let’s apply for Pre-K positions.”

We got the jobs.

I spent years as a Pre-K teacher at that school, and my wonder at watching those 2- to 5-year-old little ones absorb two languages simultaneously never faded — not even once. That school also gave me something deeply personal: the chance to refine my own English and keep moving forward.

But then life, as it tends to do, shifted.

The political, social, and economic situation in Venezuela wasn’t painting a hopeful future for my husband and me. So, we started searching for a new beginning. I learned French while exploring Canada as an option. We looked at Colombia, Spain, Europe, Argentina, the United States… and finally, Panama seemed like the most realistic path. We had our tickets. We had our documents. We were ready.

And then I got an email.

“We’d like to interview you for a Dual Language school in North Carolina… Fluent English required.”

Wait WHAT? HOW?

And yet, I got the job.

Five years of teaching in the U.S. followed. And then came a very long, very complicated visa story that eventually meant I could no longer return to the classroom. By that point, I also had two boys who were daycare-age. Just picture that for a second: I had to pivot. So, I started applying for anything even remotely connected to education: children’s books, publishers, toys, games, online learning, dubbing. Anything! I needed to work from home, so I threw my name at every opportunity I could find.

Fast forward — I got a job. Actually, I got several more until here.

Since stepping into my current role in Product Management at McGraw Hill, I’ve been thrown into a world where you will need to “talk,” a world of fast conversations, quick decisions, and almost no time to pause, translate in my head, process, and respond. And let me tell you, it is exhausting.

English is a language where one word can mean ten different things. Trying to find the right words in critical moments, decision-making moments that happen in seconds, is genuinely hard. And layered on top of that is my accent. My ever-present fear of being noticed. My deep-seated worry that it makes me look less capable, less credible. Like a weakness.

All of that was swirling in my head as I sat at the airport, heading home from what I can only describe as the most extraordinary professional experience of my life: the McGraw Hill California Literacy Summit, where literacy leaders from across the organization came together to visit schools, strengthen team connections, and collaborate on program strategy, including future visioning, roadmap planning, and budgeting priorities.

The room was filled with some of the most brilliant, knowledgeable, and deeply committed literacy leaders I have ever encountered. People I am genuinely proud and honored to work alongside, experts who are not only passionate about their jobs but specifically dedicated to supporting education, the districts, the teachers, and, of course, our most important clients: our students. Together, across K–12, we’ve built amazing programs for them: Emerge!, Summit! and Soar!. We’ve also built a program for the bilingual community, ¡Emerger juntos! — Can you believe that? A program created with intention, care, love, and countless hours of commitment.

And there I was, questioning, every single second, whether I deserved to be in that room.

But then something shifted.

I had the chance to visit schools, to see our work in action, to witness the impact we are building here at McGraw Hill. It was beyond words. And then, sitting with these incredible leaders, listening to their stories, their “human” stories, I realized something beautiful: every single person in that room brought their own unique ingredient to the recipe we’re making together.

Maybe one of mine is my bilingualism, my accent and all. Because I’m thinking now that this isn’t just a skill. It’s a superpower. It's empathy, resilience, and the ability to move between worlds, like my little Preschoolers did when I was their teacher.

So here I am, two weeks after my 40th birthday, reflecting on all of it, the journey, the fear, the pivot, the privilege of this work, and I cannot find enough words in English or Spanish to express my gratitude.

I am here “because” of bilingualism. I am here “because” of everything my accent represents.

So, let’s be proud of that accent. Let’s wear our stories, all of them, the messy and the beautiful, and let’s keep making the world a better place, one day at a time, for our students.

Claudia Gonzalez is passionate about the power of language, literacy, and education to transform lives. As a Literacy Product Owner at McGraw Hill, she helps bring literacy and dual language programs to life through collaboration, innovation, and a strong commitment to teacher support and student success. Her work is driven by a passion for simplifying the teaching experience and empowering educators with engaging, effective learning solutions. She believes that all students deserve learning experiences that inspire curiosity, build confidence, and foster a lifelong love of learning.

Originally from Venezuela and now calling the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina home, Claudia brings a unique perspective shaped by her experiences as a multilingual learner, educator, and advocate for biliteracy. When she’s not working, she enjoys baking, cheering on her boys' soccer teams, traveling, spending time with her husband and kids, and creating lasting memories with family and friends.

My Accent Isn’t a Weakness. It’s My Superpower. was originally published in Inspired Ideas on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

In A Learning Researcher on the Power of Metacognition, Dr. Matt Strader broke down what metacognition really is and how to build it into everyday instruction. But thinking about your thinking is only one element of metacognition’s role in learning. What students do next, and whether they believe they can do it, is where self-efficacy comes in. In this Q&A, Dr. Strader explains how executive function and self-efficacy power the metacognitive cycle, what well-meaning teachers do that can get in the way, and why metacognition supports every learner, not just those who are struggling.

Q: How do executive function and self-efficacy relate to metacognition?

Dr. Strader: Brain imaging technology has shown us that metacognition happens in the prefrontal cortex of the brain. That area is like the brain’s traffic control, helping us understand what’s incoming and what we should do next. It’s also the portion of the brain that’s responsible for executive functioning. It develops slightly slower than other parts of the brain, which is why older students tend to be slightly better at expressing their metacognition. But that covers the thinking-about-thinking part of metacognition. The second part is: what are we doing about it?

Those are self-regulatory behaviors: planning, reorganizing priorities, evaluating, and goal setting. However, we also know that self-efficacy is a prerequisite to self-regulation.

So, in a sense, self-efficacy is powering the entire metacognitive cycle. First, we think about our thinking and understand what we might want to do next. Then, we use our self-efficacy to empower those self-regulatory behaviors that put us on a new and more successful path. Once we’re on that path, we continue to monitor and think about how we’re progressing and then adjust further in the future. This cycle of metacognition, thinking about thinking, and then acting on those thoughts, has self-efficacy in the middle as the battery that powers the whole process.

For a deep dive into self-efficacy for education, read:

Empowering Student Self-Efficacy to Drive Achievement

Q: What do well-meaning teachers commonly do that actually undermines self-efficacy?

Dr. Strader: If self-efficacy is going to power metacognition, it makes sense that we need to build self-efficacy in our students. One of the most powerful ways to build self-efficacy is by helping students see their success. Well-intentioned teachers do this all the time, but it’s a little too generic. We want students to see the specific success they’re achieving in the moment. Telling a student something like “good job” or “nice work” is not going to build their self-efficacy. We need to be really specific about the tangible results students are producing. If positive feedback lacks specificity, it might undermine your efforts to build self-efficacy.

Another thing well-intentioned teachers do that might undermine self-efficacy is trying to get through too much of a lesson too quickly. Teachers have a lot of pressures placed upon them: short classes, tons of material, attending to students needs, so they’re trying to get through the material. But then students tend to feel left behind and unsuccessful. When we chunk our lessons, go slightly slower, make sure students have a small piece to deal with in their working memory, and then help them see they’re succeeding along the way, we build their self-efficacy and power metacognition.

Q: Does metacognitive instruction look different for students who are behind grade level versus those who are on or above grade level?

Dr. Strader: Studies have shown that metacognition can actually make up for differences in general intelligence and improve academic results for all students. Metacognition is not just for struggling learners, but also for those who need that extra challenge. All students can think about their work, plan, organize, evaluate, and then take that one step further to meet their goals, whether that is acceleration or extension.

Q: How do Summit! and Soar! build in self-efficacy and motivation alongside metacognition?

Dr. Strader: As we’ve established, self-regulation is a complex topic that also connects to motivation and self-efficacy. Self-efficacy is actually a prerequisite to self-regulation. Motivation and how students think are not separate ideas, and that’s why Summit! and Soar! are so powerful. We integrate these topics, ensure students see relevance and engagement in their learning, and ensure they develop self-efficacious attitudes that support self-regulatory behaviors stemming from their metacognition.

One of the things I’m most proud of in Summit! and Soar! is the backward design. At the beginning of each unit, we ask students to look at the assessment that will come at the end of the unit. Students think about what they already know, the plans they need to make to be successful, and then we break down the work across the unit. From the very beginning, we’re developing these metacognitive skills in their planning and execution of work. We also provide students with multiple opportunities to evaluate their work using rubrics and exemplars to ensure that they’re on the right track to academic success.

Q: Where else does metacognition show up in the reading and writing experience in Summit! and Soar!?

Dr. Strader: We include rubrics, and students read in the genre they’re going to write for the embedded assessment, so those readings become mentor texts. In the writing process, we focus a lot on planning. We ask students to really plan their writing and break it into pieces, so they’re evaluating in pieces and can plan further. We also offer Connect to Learning, Gaining Perspectives, and Knowledge Quest features that allow students to examine their own thoughts about the world to the learning they’re doing.

We ask students to think a lot about the strategies they’re using as they read. Our skill spotlights help students explicitly develop those strategies. We also offer language and writer’s craft features, which are really about how to compose your writing: how do I get my ideas and put them on the page? The language checkpoints offer that kind of work as well. In short, both Summit! and Soar! are packed full of features that support students’ metacognition alongside the development of literacy skills.

Discover Summit! and Soar!

Learn more about self-efficacy and executive functioning:

The Science of Literacy in Middle and High School: Executive Functioning and Self-Efficacy

Learn from Dr. Strader on the science of reading in middle and high school:

Making the Science of Reading Practical in Secondary Education

A Learning Researcher on Self-Efficacy, Executive Function, and Student Motivation was originally published in Inspired Ideas on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Metacognition — thinking about your thinking — is one of the most powerful tools we have for helping students become independent, capable learners. But what does it look like in a classroom, and how we build it into instruction without adding one more thing to a teacher’s plate? We sat down with Dr. Matt Strader, Director of Academic Design for 6–12 Literacy, to find out.

Q: What’s wrong with the common misconception that metacognition is a checklist or an add-on strategy?

Dr. Strader: The thing we tend to get wrong about metacognition is that it’s not just some haphazard “thinking about thinking.” The original definition, coined in 1976, defines metacognition as the active monitoring and subsequent regulation and orchestration of processes related to cognitive objects.

We often think of metacognition at the end of a lesson, or as a checklist that we do after we have gone through the learning. We might also think of metacognition as a specific moment to pause in the lesson and have students consider their attention or processing. But metacognition is happening along the way. Students plan their work, think about how they might want to bring different pieces of knowledge together, evaluate the work they’re doing, and communicate all of these things across time.

Metacognition is not a moment at the end, nor is it just asking students to stop and think about what they’re thinking. It’s guided, structured, happens along the way, and involves both inward reflection and outward communication.

Q: If metacognition is embedded into instruction, what does that look like in a classroom?

Dr. Strader: When metacognition is embedded into instruction, you’ll observe two things happening with students:

First are domain-general aspects of metacognition. These are ideas that don’t tie directly to the discipline that students are studying, such as planning your time, organizing your materials, or understanding what is needed to complete a task.

There’s also domain-specific metacognition, which can include things like pre-writing in literacy or thinking through the steps of an experiment in science. When metacognition is embedded into the instruction, instructors are thinking both about how students are going to be successful overall as learners and how they are going to be successful within the subject and the content they’re studying.

Q: What kind of instruction can be used to promote metacognition?

Dr. Strader: Think-alouds are a great way to model and promote metacognition. Teachers can model metacognitive thinking aloud themselves, showing students how thinking evolves and shifts over the course of a lesson. They can also model reflexive questioning: What am I thinking about this thing right now? How does this compare to what I thought before? Then we turn and ask our students to think aloud to us; they give us a moment to peer into their minds and see how their thinking changes over time.

Hypothesizing, particularly in science, is a wonderful way of including metacognition. What do you know? What evidence do you have? What do you predict? Why do you predict it?

Reciprocal teaching, or the practice of asking students to teach content to their peers, is another way that we can embed metacognition in instruction. When I need to understand a topic to the degree that I can explain it to someone else, then I have done metacognitive processes of understanding and evaluating what I think about that topic and what I want to communicate.

Graphic organizers are effective in prompting metacognition because they cause two neural pathways in the brain to light up. The first is the linguistic pathway. What is the content of the graphic organizer? What do I want to put in here as a piece of evidence or a record of my thinking? The second is the visual pathway. How do I actually represent that information visually?

Q: Can you elaborate on how graphic organizers support metacognitive thinking?

Dr. Strader: Many students, younger students in particular, struggle with abstract concepts. Concepts like chronology or the relationship between two different ideas can be challenging for younger learners to understand. When we ask them to put the concept into a visual representation like a graphic organizer, we’re in fact asking them to do a metacognitive task: How do I think these things relate? How do these two objects relate? How are they similar? How are they different?

I’d recommend using web graphic organizers that reveal related concepts, such as:

• Venn diagrams to dive deeper into relationships by parsing apart what’s similar and what’s different,
• Timelines to show chronology,
• Plot diagrams to connect the literal events of a text with the concept of plot and those abstract ideas of rising action, climax, falling action, etc., and,
• Concept maps to show hierarchy, helping students think about related concepts in order of importance.

It’s key to remember that metacognition can be taught through modeling and direct instruction. That’s how we get students to be more aware of their own thought processes, and then become experts in using that awareness to create differences in their work.

Q: What strategies for metacognition are particularly effective in literacy instruction?

Dr. Strader: In literacy instruction, there are plenty of domain-specific moves we can employ to ask students to engage in metacognition. Pre-writing or planning for a piece of writing are both great examples. We can ask students to reflect on what they’re learning and how their thinking is evolving by having them reread passages for multiple purposes. Close reading routines are powerful, too. We can ask students to reread short pieces of text repeatedly to identify things like the author’s intent, craft moves, and how grammar and sentence structure impact the author’s message.

Q: What does metacognitive thinking look like in students? When this is working, what will a teacher observe?

Dr. Strader: While students may use metacognitive processes, we want to see them demonstrate it in their work. This is tricky, because while we often think of metacognition as thinking about thinking, it’s also about the level of control over what we’re doing with that thinking.

Metacognitive behaviors often overlap with self-regulation: we see students making a plan. We see them organizing themselves. We see them evaluating the quality of their work. We see them revising.

We may also see goal setting: a student reflecting, “Here’s my work, here’s how I’m doing, now where do I want to take it next?” For this to work, teachers need to give students criteria for success and models of what they should produce. We need to be careful when the criteria for success are just the answers to the assignment students are working on, because then they’ll just copy it. So, we want to create criteria for success that are slightly adjacent to the work — close enough that students see the connection, but not so close that they get the content handed to them.

When students have clear criteria for success and look at their own work (or plan their work against it), that’s metacognitive thinking, because they’re thinking about how they get to that level, how they achieve it, and what they need to do to get there.

Q: How is metacognition supported in our new 6–12 literacy programs, Summit! and Soar!?

Dr. Strader: Metacognition happens not only in teaching, but in the curriculum. When you look inside Summit and Soar!, you’ll find several features that engage students’ metacognitive thinking. The first is our Connect to Learning feature. It asks students to think about how the information in a lesson is relevant to their lives or how it fits in with their experience of the world. We have Making Connections, in which we ask students to connect texts or their own writing to their broader understanding of the world and how that impacts them. We also have Gaining Perspectives, in which students understand that reading is a vicarious experience through which they can connect to other perspectives, and then reflect on their own and how those different perspectives might impact them. We offer rubrics so that they can understand how their writing is progressing. They evaluate it themselves, and they also evaluate it for their peers through peer reflections.

Metacognition doesn’t operate in isolation. As Dr. Strader points out, it’s closely tied to self-regulation, self-efficacy, and motivation: all behaviors and beliefs that determine whether students act on their thinking at all. In our next conversation with Dr. Strader, we’ll explore how executive function and self-efficacy power the metacognitive cycle, and what teachers can do to build both.

Matt Strader, Ed.D. is Senior Director of Academic Design at McGraw Hill. He has served as a teacher, building administrator, and district leader for schools in Kansas City and New York City. In addition to his extensive work in academics and curriculum, Matt has coached teachers internationally and is a thought leader on effective motivational processes in digital instruction that support student achievement. Matt holds a Doctor of Education in curriculum and instruction from Texas A&M University and his research interests center on self-efficacy in digital learning.

A Learning Researcher on the Power of Metacognition was originally published in Inspired Ideas on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Every classroom holds a wide range of learners, including students with vision, hearing, learning, or mobility needs, and plenty of others with intersecting and overlapping ability differences. If you’ve found yourself stretched thin trying to support diverse needs in your classroom this year, we’ve pulled together strategies from three angles: our own accessibility team, veteran special education teachers, and experts on Universal Design for Learning.

Strategies from McGraw Hill’s Accessibility Team

Our accessibility team is passionate about going beyond curriculum requirements — not just ensuring every student can access learning materials, but making sure every teacher has what they need to build a truly inclusive classroom. They recently created a free resource on supporting diverse learners, organized by student need and framed around going beyond what’s already outlined in a student’s IEP.

Before reaching for any strategy, the team recommends pausing to ask:

• What guidance does the student’s IEP or 504 Plan provide?
• What does the student say works best for them?
• Have you provided instructions in spoken, written, and visual formats?
• Do you know who at your school can help with technology or specialized expertise?

Vision needs. Use eBook features like text-to-speech, audio descriptions, and adjustable text size or color. Narrate aloud as you display visual content and offer oral response options alongside written ones. Keep materials high-contrast and uncluttered and give students a heads-up before switching to a new visual (“I’m about to show you a diagram…”).

Hearing needs. Lean on eBook features like closed captions, transcripts, and adjustable playback speed. Face the class when speaking and follow presentations or announcements with a written summary. Reduce background noise during instruction, and check in with individual students rather than asking the whole room, “does that make sense?”

Learning needs. Post consistent routines, agendas, and instructions, and break assignments into smaller steps with checklists.

Mobility needs. Think through classroom layout, seating, and convenient access to materials. Plan ahead for transitions and build in extra time or reduced handwriting demands where assignments allow. For labs, field trips, or other hands-on activities, plan access needs before the day arrives rather than in the moment.

Find the full tip sheet here. McGraw Hill curriculum users can also explore classroom accommodations and accessibility features in the accessibility guide under the Teacher Resources tab on my.mheducation.com.

Tried-and-True Tips from Special Education Teachers

Many thoughtful, skilled special education teachers have written for our educator guest blogging program, The Art of Teaching. Here’s a sample of their advice:

In How General Education Teachers Can Support Special Education Inclusion Students, special education teacher Lyndsay Jackson speaks directly to general education teachers who are ready to help but aren’t sure where to start. She recommends reviewing and understanding each student’s IEP, staying in close communication with the special education teacher, and leaning on tools like visuals and routines — which benefit every learner, not just those with identified needs.

In Tips and Tricks From a Special Education Teacher, Karla Banks explains that she teaches classroom routines the same way she’d teach a reading or math skill: through explicit instruction and practice, not assumption. Graphic organizers, movement breaks, and “I do, we do, you do” modeling make that practice manageable.

Some of the most effective strategies serve more than one kind of need at once. Jackson suggests using real photos of students following classroom routines (not generic clip art) so kids can see themselves succeeding, and recommends peer mentors, paired only with the general education student’s consent, to help a classmate feel more comfortable in the room. Banks offers a mindset shift that supports students with learning and sensory needs alike: treat each day as a new day, and let yesterday’s rough moment stay in the past.

In How Becoming a Special Educator Made Me a Better Advocate for Children and Their Parents, special education inclusion teacher Alisha Isable writes about advocacy — going beyond knowing a student’s IEP to knowing them deeply, as learners and as people. She describes how special educators learn the small things that make a difference, like which student needs a reassuring touch to de-escalate, or which one blends sounds better with a tactile cue at their fingertips.

Insights from Experts on Universal Design for Learning

Beyond individual strategies, it’s worth considering bigger instructional shifts that can transform a classroom, like Universal Design for Learning (UDL).

With a class of twenty-five or more students, meeting everyone’s needs with precisely the right support can feel overwhelming. But learning science tells us that most strategies designed for students with identified needs also make lessons clearer for everyone else. That’s the core idea behind UDL: design instruction for the edges first, and the middle benefits too.

In Reimagining Math Instruction: Embracing UDL for Every Learner, Dr. Burke, a veteran educator, assistant superintendent, and certified UDL expert, describes UDL as a shift from “everyone learns the same way” to a belief that everyone deserves to learn in their own way. It offers students flexibility in how they learn and how they show what they know, and while the shift can feel big, it doesn’t have to happen all at once — incremental changes still add up. As she puts it, UDL doesn’t ask teachers to do more; it asks them to do better.

For more on UDL, read this article by Twana Young, VP of Academic Design for Math at McGraw Hill:

Math is For Everyone with Universal Design for Learning

More From You!

This list of strategies is far from comprehensive. What did we miss? What instructional moves, classroom layout adjustments, or small conversations have made the biggest difference for your learners with diverse needs?

For more from our accessibility team, read:

Beyond Automation: Building Inclusive Classrooms Through Usability

For more special education reflections from educators and experts, read:

• Let’s Talk About Tourette’s: What I Wish Every Educator Knew
• Seeing Teaching Through a New Lens
• Speaking Up About Dyslexia

Supporting Diverse Learning Needs: Tips from Teachers and Accessibility Experts was originally published in Inspired Ideas on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

At McGraw Hill, our work is informed by the experiences of the many former educators on our staff. This series highlights their perspectives.

When I made the decision to leave the classroom and pursue my goal of becoming an Instructional Designer, I was terrified. I had always known this was the direction I wanted my career to take, but taking that first step felt huge. The hardest part about leaving teaching wasn’t the lesson plans or the grading — it was leaving my students.

I taught second grade for four of my five years in the classroom — my favorite age group. My students earned the nickname “Chicken Nuggets.” To a second grader, that’s the funniest, most elite title you could possibly have. They were proud of it. They called themselves “Mrs. Gabriel’s Chicken Nuggets,” and they meant it. So, for this story, I’ll refer to my sweet students as my Chicken Nuggets.

Hi, I’m Michelle Gabriel-Ferreira. I’m originally from Rio Piedras, Puerto Rico. Spanish was my first language — something I wasn’t always proud of. I moved to Atlanta at five years old, and at the time, I was one of only three students in my entire school who spoke Spanish. There was no ESOL program. We were placed in Speech to develop our English. I picked it up quickly, but even after the language barrier faded, I never quite felt like I fit in.

I tried to hide my culture. I avoided speaking Spanish in public. Eventually, I even refused to speak it at home.

Looking back, I don’t believe my teachers discouraged my Spanish intentionally. They just didn’t think about the long-term impact. If I could read, write, speak, and listen in English, I was meeting the requirements. That was enough.

It wasn’t until college that I experienced a turning point. For the first time, I was surrounded by people who looked like me, spoke like me, and understood my culture. I realized how much of myself I had tucked away. That realization shaped my purpose as an educator. I vowed that my students would never feel that their language or identity was something to shrink.

I earned my ESOL certification and my Dual-Language certification. When I graduated, my goal was simple: I wanted students to look at their teacher and think, “She looks like me. She sounds like me. She understands me.”

And when my students realized their teacher could communicate with them in their language? The excitement in their eyes was unforgettable. Four years of teaching ESOL taught me so much about what it truly means to develop two languages simultaneously.

It’s not just about vocabulary and phonics. It’s about identity, confidence, and cognitive load. It’s about small adjustments that make a child feel seen and capable.

I learned to focus on the little things — the subtle connections between languages, the moments that might overwhelm a student, the reminders that guide without discouraging. My Chicken Nuggets exceeded expectations, not because I did anything revolutionary, but because they knew I cared. And when students feel that, they rise.

Fast forward to today.

I now serve as a Senior Instructional Designer on the Dual Language team. When I first joined as an Instructional Designer, I worked on the Grade 2 team (still the best grade, in my opinion!). I had the opportunity to transform our print PDFs into digital lessons — in Spanish.

One of the strengths of ¡Emerger juntos!, our dual language program, is that we often reference the core program, Emerge!. As someone fresh out of the classroom, having that structure was incredibly helpful. But there are moments when we don’t do a direct 1-to-1 build — and that’s when my classroom experience speaks the loudest.

If you’ve ever taught second grade, you know: not all students learn the same, and foundational grades make that especially clear.

There have been instances where two questions were placed on a single screen with one response box. And every time I see that, I immediately picture my Chicken Nuggets. I know them. I know that many of them would read the first question, answer it, and move on — completely missing the second. Not because they can’t do it, but because they’re seven.

In those moments, I think, “This would overwhelm them. Let’s separate this into two screens.” One question. One response box. Clear focus. Reduced cognitive load.

It seems small. It’s just a screen adjustment.

But those small decisions are the difference between confusion and clarity. Between frustration and confidence. Between a student shutting down and a student thinking, “I can do this.”

There have been other instances where my classroom experience directly shaped our digital builds. At times, I’ve advocated for content within a section to be rewritten — not only to align with the capabilities of our technology, but to sharpen the instructional focus for both the student and the teacher.

In foundational literacy, the most important elements are letters, letter sounds, blending, chunking, and language development. These are not “extras.” They are the core.

One moment that stands out involved the need to explicitly include a Sound Spelling Card alongside a literacy poster within a lesson. A Sound Spelling Card is exactly what it sounds like: a card that shows the focus letter, the sound (or sounds) it makes, and an example word. A literacy poster, on the other hand, breaks words into sound “bites.” For example, when teaching the sound /a/ with the word cat, students see it segmented as c–a–t, isolating each sound to support acquisition.

I was adamant that both of these resources were necessary in that lesson. I immediately thought of a few of my Chicken Nuggets who needed that additional visual support to fully grasp a new sound. And if you know Spanish, you know that a single letter or letter combination can represent multiple sounds. Visual clarity matters — especially in bilingual instruction.

Visuals, visuals, visuals. They are everything in foundational grades.

After meeting with the appropriate teams and clearly explaining the instructional reasoning behind the request, the change was made. The lesson was updated with stronger clarity and more intentional resource integration.

I felt incredibly proud in that moment — not for myself, but for the students who would now have a clearer, more supportive learning experience. These small changes are often what determine whether a student feels confused or confident.

And sometimes, I think about myself as a student. If I had access to a resource like this — one that honored language development intentionally and visually — would my experience have been different? Would my confidence in my Spanish have been stronger?

I don’t know.

But I do know this: my Chicken Nuggets would thrive with ¡Emerger juntos! And I intend to continue doing my part to ensure it is as thoughtful, supportive, and impactful as I believe it can be.

That’s what my years in the classroom gave me — not just content knowledge, but instinct. The instinct to anticipate where a student might stumble. The instinct to protect their confidence. The instinct to remember that even in digital spaces, we are still teaching real children.

And sometimes, the smallest reminders create the biggest impacts.

Michelle Gabriel-Ferreira was born in Puerto Rico and moved to the States during her early elementary school years. As a bilingual speaker, she turned her love and passion for her culture and language into a career in dual-language education. She taught second grade for four years, using both Spanish and English in the classroom to support her students as they developed their language and literacy skills. While teaching, she discovered a love for integrating technology into the classroom, which led her to earn her master’s degree in Instructional Technology. That passion eventually brought her to McGraw Hill as an Instructional Designer, where she quickly discovered that I had found my dream job. Today, Michelle brings together everything she loves — language, culture, education, and technology — to help develop a product that students can one day use to continue learning, growing, and finding confidence in both languages.

What it Means for a Multilingual Learner to Grow Up and Design a Dual Language Program was originally published in Inspired Ideas on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

You’d be hard-pressed to find a middle schooler across America who isn’t aware that the nation is celebrating its 250th birthday. Our students have watched fireworks displays, attended local parades, and learned about the Declaration of Independence’s significance in social studies class. Not every student in America knows the word semiquincentennial or can articulate the Declaration of Independence’s exact circumstances and inherent complexities, but it’s likely they know that the Declaration existed, perhaps who wrote it, and maybe even its most famous line.

That Declaration, though, didn’t mean all that much without action. It was more of an idealistic proposal followed by a list of pointed complaints about King George III. The line “…that these United Colonies are, and of a right ought to be free and independent states” contains an element of aspiration. In practical terms, the document had no impact on their status as a British colony. The newly-united states had to win a war, and needed the aid of France and others in that endeavor. Without Britain’s eventual surrender at Yorktown and the Treaty of Paris that followed, the United States of America was just an idea. A hope. A wish.

The Continental Army had to act to make the Declaration come true. Their heroism, combined with that of so many others, defeated Britain and made Jefferson’s words a reality, or at least, took a significant step towards it. In the years since, the United States has had tremendous successes and inescapable failures, but the wish to no longer be a British colony inarguably came true.

So, a quarter millennium later, what “ought” the United States be? Or, in other words, what’s the 250th birthday wish you’d want for America? You’ll get a different answer depending on whom you ask. You’ll also get approximately one thousand different answers if you ask students in a middle school. And that’s what we did at Hommocks.

At our school, located in Westchester County in the New York City suburbs, students created a visual representation of what the 250th Birthday could be — an enormous “birthday card” for everyone in the building to see. In the weeks leading up to July 4th, students at Hommocks Middle School shared their 250th birthday wishes for the United States. Social studies teachers handed out red (6th grade), white (7th grade), and blue (8th grade) notecards in their classes. The students then churned out wishes that were profound, simple, silly, sweet, grateful, honest, aspirational, and as middle school as it gets.

I started hanging the wishes in the Commons (our school’s main hub on the ground floor) in mid-June. The first notecards went in the center, and I was really just thinking about alternating colors and filling a large space evenly with 1400 wishes (staff could participate too). A day or two in, a science teacher passed by and noticed how the collage seemed to be taking on the shape of the USA. So, then, the design turned into a wall-sized map of America, with some parts admittedly more accurate than others.

More colleagues would walk by each day, stop to read a few wishes, and mention some of their favorites. Students did the same. It was fun showing kids in my classes where their notecards were placed (names were optional). Some wishes were inspirational, some were brutally honest, and some were sentiments only a 12–14 year-old could possibly generate.

Here’s a sampling of the hundreds of Hommocks student wishes…

• America, you’ve been through a lot and survived. Keep going! You don’t look a day over 250!
• Dear America, keep making good music.
• America, my birthday wish for you is that “liberty and justice for all” rings true in everyone’s case.
• America, my wish for you is to end cancer.
• Happy Birthday, America. Please get better at men’s soccer so you have a chance in the next World Cup!
• I wish that people would travel more around the country and visit and protect our national parks.
• Dear America, I wish that Democrats and Republicans wouldn’t fight, and also that people would throw out their trash.
• My wish is that kids get treated with the same respect as adults and not like we’re less important.
• Dear America, for your 250th birthday, I will stop eating fried eagle!
• My wish is that the US can last for centuries to come and grow stronger every day.
• America, my wish for you is that we will improve healthcare and our next president is a woman.
• I wish the soldiers who gave their lives in the American Revolution could see what our country has become today.

With thousands of 250th celebrations going on across the nation, it felt special to have one specific to our school, yet so easily replicable in schools across the country. To the teachers reading this, please try out the idea! The inspiration for this project came from New York Historical’s On Our 250th campaign, which is a digital collection of wishes from anyone who’s interested.

And for students, on America’s 300th birthday you’ll be in your 60’s. How many of your wishes will have become reality? What new challenges will exist in 2076? What will have been solved?

Beyond the Declaration of Independence, there are more 250th anniversaries to come in the near future. In the next decade or so we’ll have the semiquincentennials of Saratoga, Yorktown, the Treaty of Paris, the Constitution, and the Bill of Rights. This past summer, I was fortunate enough to take a Gilder Lehrman course at Gettysburg College with Professor Lindsay Chervinsky. Dr. Chervinsky, the executive director at George Washington’s Mount Vernon, hopes that this period of anniversaries will be a call to action for our students, or “a decade of civic renaissance,” as she puts it.

It’s true. Our students have the opportunity to deliver this birthday card to America with their actions to come.

Some may go onto careers in medical research. Others will convince their parents to take them to Yosemite over the summer and donate to its protection. They’ll keep up with early morning soccer training and join the debate team to learn the value of evidence-based rational discourse. They might enter careers in law, sanitation, music, or public service.

As educators, we may never see what our students are up to in 2076. Some of them could be retired at that point, telling their children and grandchildren how much the world has changed since they walked (or ran!) the halls of Hommocks Middle School.

When America’s 300th anniversary rolls around, there’s a chance our former students remember what they added to the giant birthday card way back in 2026. And some might even smile about how their wishes came true.

Andy Scopp is a 7th-grade social studies teacher and the social studies department chair at Hommocks Middle School in Mamaroneck, NY. Andy just began his thirteenth year teaching in Mamaroneck and previously taught for five years at PS175 in the Bronx. He holds a BA in American Studies from Skidmore College and MA in the Teaching of Social Studies from Teachers College, Columbia University. Andy lives in New York City with his wife and their two sons, ages three and six. You can read more from Andy here:

Equity in Our Founders

To be reminded why your work is so very important and for more stories and advice, visit our collection of teacher perspectives at The Art of Teaching.

You can view the McGraw Hill Privacy Policy here: http://www.mheducation.com/privacy.html. The views and opinions expressed in this blog are those of the author, and do not reflect the values or positioning of McGraw Hill or its sales.

250th Birthday Wishes from a Middle School in New York was originally published in Inspired Ideas on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Ask a room of middle and high school teachers what’s changed most about their students in the last five years, and “engagement” comes up before anything else. A common misconception is that students today can’t focus, or that they just don’t care. But the truth is, today’s teens are perfectly capable of focusing when they want to and are excited and passionate about plenty of things — we’re just not seeing that happen inside a traditional classroom.

Perhaps the shift teachers are observing is, in fact, students’ tolerance for content that asks them to sit, absorb, and trust it will matter someday. If students can’t see the line between what they’re learning and something that is meaningful to them, that lesson isn’t going to stick.

There’s no single, quick fix for this moment’s engagement gap. The issue is complex, with factors ranging from COVID gaps to technology changes to nuances we don’t yet understand, so the same instructional shifts won’t work for every student. But prioritizing student agency in your lesson structure and relevance in your content are a good place to start. Students are more likely to disengage when learning feels like something they simply receive. They are more likely to lean in when they have something meaningful to build, decide, solve, or create.

These principles can of course be applied to any subject, but they’re especially natural for Career and Technical Education (CTE) courses within the business cluster, which not every high school offers or has even considered.

Think of the teens you know. When given the right task, middle and high schoolers are creative, clever, and even innovative. Now consider how entrepreneurship could serve as a natural ramp to engagement — of course not every student will grow up to start a company. But in the classroom, entrepreneurial thinking naturally supports agency and relevance.

Students’ rising interest and participation in Career and Technical Student Organizations (CSTOs) are something we should be paying attention to: DECA closed out the 2025–2026 school year with its strongest-ever high school membership. The organization also reported a 7% increase in chapters during the 2024–2025 school year. Meanwhile, FBLA now serves more than 200,000 middle school, high school, and college students each year. This impressive growth is a clear signal that students are choosing to put their energy into learning when it is competitive, hands-on, and theirs to own.

We believe CTE business courses can be transformative for high school students when lessons let them sit in the driver’s seat: applying what they’re learning across subjects to brainstorm ideas, make decisions, and execute plans. That’s why this kind of engaged, applied learning is central to how we design our business courses.

Building Student Agency from Chapter One

Our Entrepreneurship Fundamentals program is built around this approach. Rather than opening with definitions, each chapter starts with a real-life entrepreneurial scenario and dialogue, asking students to think and problem-solve like entrepreneurs. Authentic simulations put them inside those scenarios, asking them to gather and evaluate data and make a call, then giving instant feedback on their decision. The pedagogy aligns with the new reality our students will face: the digital world has the potential to level the playing field, and any student can build something, provided they have the fundamentals.

Careers and Basics of Business gives students the operating context: how companies function, how departments depend on each other, and why interdepartmental collaboration determines whether good ideas become reality. Through authentic workplace scenarios and simulations, students see how decisions move across departments and experience the consequences of those decisions from multiple business perspectives.

Modern Business Math addresses the part of entrepreneurship that many curricula skip: the money math a founder needs on day one. Chapters draw on current events from the Wall Street Journal and Kiplinger, and the course’s “My Money” exercises apply concepts directly to situations students already recognize, like calculating a car loan payment and understanding payroll deductions, while Excel templates show them how managers use the tool to make decisions. It’s also a good option for students looking for an engaging math elective.

Layer in Marketing Fundamentals and Dynamic Business Law for a coherent, robust sequence, each course reinforcing the learning and growth students will develop in the others.

Relevance Doesn’t Have to Sacrifice Rigor

Applied, career-connected learning is sometimes read as the less rigorous path, or a break from “real” academic work. The opposite tends to be true. Pricing a product against real market data, reading and understanding a contract, building a business plan that has to hold up to scrutiny — that’s challenging, and has visible stakes! Every course in this cluster is built on Bloom’s Taxonomy and Keller’s ARCS motivational model, and each pairs its content with hundreds of soft-skills exercises. Students aren’t just learning business concepts. They’re practicing the judgment, communication, and problem-solving that any career will demand of them.

Students don’t need to wait until high school to begin learning about business. Programs like Career Explorations and Introduction to Digital Skills and Computer Applications are even suitable for middle school learners. By offering these courses as early as seventh grade, we indicate to students that we trust them to be the authors of their own work, and set them up to flourish as creative, successful entrepreneurs in high school.

Explore our full lineup of high school business CTE courses and see how the sequence fits your program:

Why High School Business Courses Can Help Solve the Engagement Gap was originally published in Inspired Ideas on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Ask any teacher, administrator, or parent about classroom technology right now, and you’ll likely get a strong opinion. Screen time concerns are legitimate — as is EdTech fatigue, and the worry that another app is one more thing standing between a teacher and their students.

At McGraw Hill, we’ve been making resources for PreK-12 classrooms for a long time. While the mediums in which we work have expanded and evolved, our core approach to curriculum design has not. We have always been a learning science company: one that builds curriculum according to what research tells us about how learning happens, in whatever format best serves the learning goal.

Our new paper, Technology in Service of Learning, lays out the design principle that guides every decision we make about format: the learning goal determines the format — not the other way around. Before we build anything, we ask what a student needs to acquire a skill, what will best support a teacher’s instructional moves in that moment, and how we can most accurately capture a student’s growth. The answer to those questions determines whether the result is digital, print, a physical kit, or some blend of the three.

That means technology only earns its place when it does something print genuinely can’t: personalize instruction at scale, adapt in real time, surface student progress data, or lighten a teacher’s administrative load. We’re aware of technology’s limits: even well-designed adaptive tools like ALEKS or Achieve3000 Literacy are only effective when purposefully implemented. The data we’ve observed points to roughly one hour a week of consistent use, about 5% of the instructional year, as the sweet spot for meaningful gains.

When print is the better answer, we make books and worksheets. The paper walks through where paper, pencil, and books remain the most effective tools we have — from the oversized read-aloud Big Books in Emerge!, to the scripted lesson behind Direct Instruction programs like Reading Mastery and Corrective Reading, to the consumable Student Editions in Reveal Math where students show their thinking on the page. It also covers the moments when the goal calls for something hands-on entirely: manipulative kits like Reveal Math’s Fluency Games Kit or the Open Court Reading Foundational Skills Kit, where tactile tools aren’t a supplement to instruction; they are the instruction.

None of this is new territory for us. As the paper’s foreword from Chief Academic Officer Katie McClarty and SVP Jason Sinquefield notes, we havebeen asking “what does this learning goal require?” for over 130 years, across textbooks, workbooks, CD-ROMs, and now adaptive, AI-driven technology.

If you’re navigating screen time policies, device restrictions, or just want a clearer framework for evaluating the tools in front of you, we hope this helps you frame your decision-making and situate technology meaningfully in your school’s approach to teaching and learning.

The Future of Technology and Print in PreK-12 Classrooms was originally published in Inspired Ideas on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.