A few weeks ago, we shared a video from a 10th grade English class on X. It fit into our usual MO here at Science of Reading Classroom: sharing practical videos of strong instructional practice.
The reactions to this video varied. Some commenters noted that Bob’s students were enthusiastically discussing a wonderful novel (The Life of Pi). Others noted that the scaffolded analysis routine that he used set students up for a high-quality full-class discussion later on. There was plenty to chew on - it was a great video.
But a number of folks dove into the comments, fervently questioning…why Bob’s students weren’t sitting in rows. Of all things.
I see reactions like this on literacy social media all of the time: science of reading or science of learning advocates questioning and even mocking teachers’ desk arrangements, wall decorations, or attempts to make learning fun.
The implication, of course, is that if your desks are NOT arranged in rows or if your classroom walls are bright and colorful or if you attempt to “gamify” something, then you are a bad teacher, who’s wasting time and straining your students’ cognitive load.
This is complete and utter BS. And my message to these commentators is: stop being such killjoys.
Now that I’ve gotten that out of my system, allow me to elaborate:
Desks in rows and decoration-free walls are neither necessary nor sufficient proxies for effective teaching. There, in fact, are good arguments for both practices. But if your response to a video of excellent instructional technique is to harp on the desk arrangement: you are missing the point.
Try instead to examine the video and the strength of its instruction as a whole, instead of knee-jerk criticizing the first small detail you see. Consider whether there might be anything you can learn from the video outside of the very narrow topic of desk arrangement or wall hangings. (Or whether the teacher might have a practical or specific reason for choosing the desk arrangement they chose!)
You’re setting up a false dichotomy between rigor and fun. We don’t have to choose. We can have both. Also, whether we’re working with 5 years old or 13 olds, I would argue we NEED both.
By obsessing desks and decor, you’re branding the entire learning science movement as the “no fun” movement.
By branding yourself as the “no fun” movement, you’re limiting who is going to actually join your cause. This rhetoric is going to automatically repel lots of teachers and parents because it feels punitive and trivial.
At the end of the day, you’re using a deeply ineffective persuasion tactic, and as someone who really wants your movement to succeed, I beg you: talk about something else!
And get ready: because over the next few weeks, we’re going to use this blog to share examples of how our fellows are blending rigor and fun. And every time I see snarky commentary about desks in rows, I’m going to respond with this article.
One of the best parts of being a fellow was the collegial support. I appreciate the reminder to focus on the learning. There is more than 1 way to accomplish that. Teachers won’t share videos in spaces that attack them. And I, for one, want to see good teaching videos!
Yes—thank you for this. I’ve been wondering the same thing about the “rows vs. not rows” debate. To me, the real question isn’t which setup is better, but why we’re choosing it in the first place. The conversation should be centered on purpose—how the design of a space supports the instructional goals of the lesson and, ultimately, the learning outcomes for students.
Sometimes explicit instruction makes sense in rows. Sometimes practice, collaboration, or small-group work calls for a different setup entirely. Education isn’t an either/or—it’s a yes/and. What matters most is that teachers understand the why behind their choices, whether it’s a protocol, an instructional routine, or even a seating arrangement.
When we lead with purpose, we move beyond aesthetics and into real learning design—and that’s where the magic happens.
Also—would you mind reposting the video? I’d love to see the example of great teaching you mentioned. It sounds like a powerful model of what this balance can look like in action.