Pulling small groups

Today I wanted to work on writing numbers-- an area in which first and second graders differ quite widely. So I set up two open-ended choices: exploring base ten blocks again and making numbers on with rubber bands on the geoboards. Then, while the class worked on these tasks independently I pulled small groups to work with me at the table on writing numbers. Youngers counted sets in pictures and practiced writing how many. With only a small group at the table I could catch and correct any mis-starts and reversals. Olders worked on a similar task, counting pictorial representations of base ten blocks and writing number words to match the pictures. Gosh they felt grown up doing this! Of course, it being only the second day of school, stamina for independent work wore thin pretty quickly, so I had to zip through these small groups as best I could!

1st Day of School

Today was the first day of school, and I have a fabulous new group of 1st and 2nd graders. The 1st graders are new to me, and I am learning each of their unique and quirky personalities. The 2nd grade crew are returners and although we know each other, we are now figuring out new dynamics. These children are exploring what it means to be an older member of the class, trying out the role of leader and helper.

More than any other day, the first day of school requires differentiation. All of our students come to school hoping to find it not too hard, and not too easy. Since the first day sets the tone for those that follow, I am hoping to challenge everyone appropriately, to engage them without stressing them out.

To provide an appropriate task for everyone, especially without knowing the students very well, I usually offer open-ended explorations with math materials as our first-day math activity. Today I introduced three materials that we will use in math this year: base ten blocks, pattern blocks, and geoboards. Each child chose a material to explore, and all happily set to work building, designing, and creating.

Although all of the children were working with the same materials, they approached the materials in a variety of ways. Many of the younger children simply focused on testing the properties of the materials, working to balance the base ten blocks and determining how far rubber bands can be stretched on the geoboard without breaking. Older children who had previous experiences with the materials created more complex challenges for themselves. One 2nd grader worked at creating symmetrical designs on the geoboard, another working with base ten blocks tried to determine if a tens stick was heavier than ten single ones blocks.

Why we need to differentiate

We need to differentiate instruction in our classrooms.  I believe that, but it is easy to forget why-- especially after reading up on the new common core standards, especially after talking with teachers who feel pressure to have all of their students reach certain benchmarks at certain points in the year. 

Then I met my incoming students.  This past week we hosted an open house-type afternoon for families, offering the chance to drop by, say hello, and check out the classroom before school starts.  Some children bound into the room with confidence; others cling to a parent's hand.  Some dive right into exploring materials; others slowly take it all in.  Some chatter away; some ignore questions directed their way.  From their first moments in the classroom, it is abundantly clear that they bring a range of interests, personalities, and talents.  And, of course, some are young and some are older. 

How on earth did we ever come to decide that all first graders should be mastering the same skills on the same day?  This article online at Science Daily describes new research finding that children on the younger end of a grade level are far more likely to be diagnosed with ADHD, than children on the older end of a grade level.  Not only is this fascinating stuff, and deserves a read-through, in my mind, it is yet another reason for differentiating the instruction in our classrooms.  A young first grader and an older first grader are not and should not be in exactly the same place developmentally, and we do children a disservice--perhaps even mis-medicating them--when our expectations are too lockstep. 

This is not to say that I don't believe standards are reasonable to have for each grade-level.  It is smart to have a bottom line somewhere.  But going into a new school year, I am committed to accepting my students for who they are when they first walk through the door and meeting each child where they are right now.  The structures in place will need to accommodate that range.

Streamlining with the Common Core Standards

My state just adopted the common core standards.  As far as I'm concerned, this is a great development and also a frustrating development.  The new mathematics standards are streamlined and focused-- still rigorous, but not nearly as overwhelming to the teacher as the previous standards.  That's fabulous.  On the other hand, we will find ourselves, once again, realigning curriculum to match.  Then again, what better time to start fresh, with better focus than September?  And being able to share curriculum across state lines?  That's a bonus, too.  Inspired by the idea of "depth over breadth," which is so evident in the new standards, my teaching with undoubtedly become more streamlined as we move forward this year.

Can a high school kid sit on the rug?

I gave a workshop on differentiated instruction to a group of teachers-- some elementary, some special ed, some middle and high school.  I talked about different structures for differentiation, including the "spiraling-scaffolded tasks" (which I have re-named "stay or go tasks"). 

The question that struck me as most puzzling came from a high school math teacher who told me that the "stay or go" model wouldn't work for him.  Why not?  It wouldn't work for him because he didn't have his students sit on the rug. 

Yikes!  For those who may have had this response, I should say that you don't have to have your students sitting on the rug to use the "stay or go" model.  You simply need to have two distinct areas to work in your classroom-- an area where students can work independently and an area where students can work with teacher support.  Both areas need to be large enough to accommodate all of your students at once, OR you'll need to flip the kind of work done in each area.  So, a high school teacher, for example, might do an introductory lesson with students sitting at desks facing a blackboard-- a very traditional set-up.  Then, students who are ready to go work independently could go sit at a table in the back of the classroom while the others remain in their seats for additional supported practice.  The following day, the teacher could again review with everyone seated at desks and could invite the now smaller group students who need more support to come to the table at the back of the room.  The students who want to work independently could remain in their seats.  The third day, everyone again begins at their seats for review and remains there for independent practice.  The teacher would then invite students looking for an extension lesson to the back table. 

I talk about this model as it works in my first and second grade classroom, and since I have a rug area and tables, this is what I describe.  There are certainly not specific furnishings required!  It occurs to me, though, that having high school kids sit on the floor might actually work out fine too.  Does classroom set-up really determine the kind of teaching that happens?

Storing Materials

As part of classroom set-up, I find myself once again re-evaluating the storage systems that I use for classroom materials, particularly math manipulatives. Most of these materials are stored on open shelving in the classroom, and I generally try to divvy up items into boxes or bins so that students can easily access materials and take them to their table spots.   After reading this great post by Lori of Camp Creek Blog I decided to separate materials in more containers with individual sets for each child whenever possible and with sets for no more than two children to share when sharing is necessary.  Lori talks about how conditions of scarcity breed panic in the classroom, and since there is nothing worse than trying to teach while managing fights over the sharing of materials, I am finding room on our shelves for more boxes!

Classroom Set Up

With the start of a new school year quickly approaching, it is classroom set-up time once again. Here is a little glimpse into my 1st-2nd grade room.

You'll notice that I've got tables rather than desks-- something that I adore, since in my experience desks quickly become trash pits and it is easier to move kids' seats when you need to make a quick change. There are bins of communal supplies in the middle of each table (markers, pencils, scotch tape, a stapler, glue sticks, and scissors). You'll also notice the rug area where I do large group instruction. Most of the tables are for indepdent work and the round table in the corner is for small group instruction. Each child has an assigned "table spot" and an assigned "rug spot." There are a few small desks tucked around the room for children who need an extra bit of privacy when working independently.

Obviously, this set-up is for a primary grades classroom, with the rug area probably as a the main give-away. I know lots of elementary classrooms with rug areas, but I've never seen it in a classroom for older students. I was talking the other day with a high school teacher about differentiation, including "sprialing-scaffolded tasks," and he said that he couldn't imagine using this structure with a traditional desk set-up. After all, I'd described how my students stay on the rug if they need or want teacher support. But it seems to me that there would have to be a way to make the structure work with older kids. Maybe the desks at the front of the room could be for kids who'd like extra support and the desks at the back could be for independent work. Thoughts?

The Role of Choice

I also wanted to add a little bit about the role of choice in the differentiated classroom. With each of the structures that I use, students have some degree of choice as to the work they attempt. This allows each child to take on an appropriately challenging task and requires that they take responsibility for their own learning.

•Open-ended tasks: Students make choices about materials and methods to solve a problem
•Tiered tasks: Students have the choice of work that is more or less challenging
•Spiraling-scaffolded tasks: Students have the choice to work independently or with teacher support

I usually let the children make these choices because it allows them to retain ownership for their own learning, setting up a more focused and motivated classroom environment. On occasions where I have told students what tasks to do, I have been met with more off-task behaviors.
Travis, whose behavior deteriorated when I originally sent him off to work without support, was able to work well independently when he was able to choose to do so himself. Most of the time I find that my students make good choices about their level of work. Most students are motivated to challenge themselves intellectually and yet to stay on solid footing. Occasionally, though, children do make choices that I feel are inappropriate. A child might choose work that is too difficult in order to impress a friend or a parent. A child might choose work that is too easy in order to stay with a buddy or indulge in a bit of laziness. As the teacher, I am not afraid to set up some baseline expectations for students when the task is introduced. I might require a certain number of problems be solved or that students tackle a certain level of work. Going above and beyond is always presented as an option.

A Third Structure: Spiraling-Scaffolded Tasks

With open-ended problem-solving tasks that students could access at a variety of levels and tiered-tasks that provided students appropriate practice with basic skills, it certainly seemed as though I had the issue of differentiation under control.

There was only one major hitch. I still had not found a structure well-suited to the differentiation of direct instruction in mathematical algorithms. Some children may be able to develop an efficient strategy for adding multi-digit numbers simply by tackling a sheet of story problems, but the vast majority of children benefit from teacher instruction which involves the modeling and explanation of traditional algorithms accompanied by guided practice. It was the question of how to organize direct instruction that had me stymied.

At first I thought that tiered instruction would work for direct instruction as well as independent practice tasks; I would simply teach two lessons to two groups. Unfortunately, that proved to be more complicated than I anticipated. When I taught a straight first grade I would teach a lesson on multi-digit addition to the whole group, modeling the traditional algorithm of combining “ones” and combining “tens.” Then I would sent everyone off with a set of practice problems. I would circulate about the room, providing extra support to those who needed it. When I began to teach the multi-age group, I assumed that I could use this same framework, simply running two different groups. So I tried to instruct first graders while the second graders practiced, and to instruct the second graders while the first graders practiced. It seemed so straight-forward!

Unfortunately, I had not accounted for those students that needed extra support– the ones that in a straight-graded class were getting extra help when I circulated around. Now, while I was trying to teach the second graders I was also trying to manage first graders who weren’t able to complete their work independently. Travis was constantly interrupting the group I was trying to teach. If I took a minute to try and help him, the group of students sitting around me would chit-chat and lose focus. If I tried to shoo him back to his work or ignore him, his behavior inevitably fell apart. He would be scribbling on his neighbor’s paper, starting an argument, or dancing around to make others giggle. Soon, I was punishing him, but I knew that this wasn’t fair. He needed help, and I wasn’t offering it. I felt that I was cheating him out of the support that he deserved. Sarah, too, was struggling. While she was not causing disruptions, she was quietly sitting in her seat doing nothing. Knowing that some of these children needed help, I tried to have stronger students help those who were struggling. Travis’s comedy routine only became more elaborate. Not only were Travis and Sarah getting nothing done, but now I was distracted, the group I was teaching was distracted, and the helpers were distracted. When I compared the experience that students had in my straight-graded classroom with the experience that students were having in my multi-age classroom, I knew that it was not on par. Struggling students in the straight-graded class had been receiving a much higher level of support. Something else had to be done.

Since assigning independent practice was proving unmanageable, and even unfair, I decided that the practice simply had to become part of the lesson. My lesson time with each group became longer, and the work I expected students to complete independently was no longer lesson practice, but easier work that students could handle alone. This system was more manageable--Travis’s behavior improved--but it still did not seem right. I felt now I had not only dropped the level of support that I was offering to struggling students, but that I was letting down the level of rigor in the room for all students.

In an effort to meet individual student needs—both those of struggling students and those of advanced students--, I decided to throw out the tiered model for use in direct instruction. Instead of differentiating on two levels, I needed to develop a way to meet individual needs. This is how the spiraling-scaffolded task evolved. I decided that I would try teaching one brief lesson to the whole group on material that would be new for some and review for others--multi-digit addition. Then I would allow students who were comfortable to work through problems for independent practice at their own paces. Students who were new to the material or less comfortable with the material could stay with me and would receive extra support in a group.
Travis was clearly relieved to be allowed to stay for more support. Sam was thrilled to tackle the work at his own pace. In this way, I was once again supporting my struggling students, and I was providing a degree of independence that my more advanced students seemed to appreciate.

Using this format again on a second day, more students were comfortable working independently and the group of students who needed teacher support was smaller. On the third day, the bulk of the class was working independently and only Travis and Sarah remained for extra help. At this point these two could support each other, so I sent them off to work without me. To my relief they really were able to help each other through the problems. I was finally able to turn my attention to my more advanced students. Instead of circulating about, I called back the first batch of independent workers who were ready for more challenge. This group was mostly composed of older students like, but also a few like Sam who, while younger, were ready to take on something new. Together this group worked on multi-digit addition involving regrouping. In this way, everyone remained engaged with their work, and the level of rigor in the room remained high.

In describing this structure as "spraling" and "scaffolded" I’m drawing on the Jerome Bruner terms that I learned in my college ed psych class and I know it sounds jargony, but the term “spiraling-scaffolded instruction” is the best way I can think of to describe this format.

Traditionally, math curriculums do spiral, teaching a concept in first grade that will be reviewed and extended in second grade. For example, first graders might learn to tell time to the hour, while second graders might review telling time to the hour and also learn to tell time to the minute. Since my classroom is multi-age, I assume that my students are standing on the same spiral staircase, but happen to be at different locations on the stair. A lesson on telling time to the hour should be appropriate for all of my students and those who have previous experience with the concept will benefit from a lesson on telling time to the minute as well.

Scaffolding is assistance that allows a learner to perform a task that he or she is not yet ready to handle independently. Mathematical work may be scaffolded in a variety of ways, but teacher modeling or coaching and student use of manipulative materials are ways in which I generally offer students assistance. A student learning to add might first work with a teacher and blocks, then graduate to working independently with the blocks, and finally work independently without the blocks.

Now when I want to teach using direct instruction and guided practice, I set up a unit of spiraling and scaffolded tasks. For example, in teaching topics like multi-digit addition or subtraction, the whole class, including both olders and youngers, begins seated on the rug. To start, I model solving a math problem using manipulatives and recording my work on the board. Next I move on to a second problem, but this time the children participate in solving the problem and writing on the board. Then I move on to a third problem and this time I let the class “teach” me how to do the work. I pretend that I have forgotten what to do next and model typical mistakes. The children know that I am pretending, but they delight in catching my errors and explaining correct procedures! At this point the more advanced students have been reminded of familiar procedures and cautioned against potential errors, and they have articulated the concepts at hand. They are itching to dive in to this work. Other students may be fairly comfortable with what they have seen but not ready to tackle it independently while beginners have simply taken in a broad impression of the concept and are not at all ready for independent work. To ensure that each of the students has an appropriate level of support for taking on a sheet of practice problems, I ask each child to tell me if her or she would like to “stay or go.” Children who choose to “stay” grab a clipboard and a pencil and stay on the rug to work through the problems together at a pace set by the teacher. Children who choose to “go” take the work to their own seats. They are free to work at their own pace, but are accountable for completing the same amount of work at the end of the period as the “staying” group completes with teacher support. When I first introduce this structure I am clear with the children that I am not available to help those children working independently. They may whisper questions to each other, or they may return to the rug group. Children who work a few problems on the rug and realize that they are able to work independently sometimes choose to “go,” quietly leaving the group for their own seat. These students then solve problems independently, pacing themselves and working either with or without manipulatives. Other students continue to work with the support of the teacher, at the teachers’ pace. When the whole group has grown able to take on the task independently, I then work on problems involving regrouping with those students who are ready for an additional challenge.

Another Structure: Tiered Tasks

Open-ended problem-solving tasks are a great way to differentiate instruction and provide students with rich learning opportunities, but these tasks alone are unlikely to help children develop computational fluency. In an effort to balance open-ended problem-solving work with practice in basic math facts, I turn to old stand-bys--worksheets--and new stand-bys--dice and card games. It has been fairly easy to gear these tasks for several different levels, since my math curriculum guides often introduced an activity in the first grade book, revisiting it in on a more advanced level in the second grade book. For example:

The winning number game can be played with one die or two dice.

Addition worksheets can feature double-digits or triple digits.

More Open-Ended Tasks

Open-ended tasks-- assignments with no single answer and/or no single method to determine an answer-- are one of the ways that I can teach math in a multi-age classroom, meeting everyone's developmental needs without running myself crazy. Many of the open-ended tasks I use are story problems like the peas and carrots question. (I have 7 veggies, some are peas and some are carrots. How many of each could I have?) Students generally solve these problems with pencil and paper, but with other open-ended tasks students might use varied methods. One of my favorite open-ended tasks is challenging the class to calculate the number of students in the school by adding up the students in each of our classrooms. To solve this problem students use snap cubes, draw pictures, group base ten blocks, as well as using the traditional addition algorithm.

Here are a few more examples of open-ended tasks that I might use with my 1st-2nd graders other than story problems:

solving pattern block puzzles with varied solutions

creating different coin combinations

recording equivalent number sentences using a number balance

Structure 1: Open-Ended Tasks

My first “ah-hah!” regarding differentiating instruction came through using some of the open-ended tasks in the Investigations in Number, Data, and Space (Dale Seymour Publications, 1995) curriculum which includes work with “How many of each?” problems. Children are posed questions like “There are eight vegetables on my plate. Some are peas and some are carrots. How many of each could I have?” They are asked to show their work in pictures, numbers, or words. Because this sort of question prompted a wide variety of responses, I realized that an open-ended problem-solving situation allowed both older and younger students to find an appropriate level of challenge. Here are some of my favorite work samples from children that demonstrate the different ways children can access the same type of problem.



In response to the peas and carrots question, Travis, one of my youngest first graders, took crayons and drew plates of green peas and orange carrots, then counted them up to determine that there could be five peas and three carrots, two peas and six carrots, and so on.

This piece of work is in response to a question about 10 pets, some of which are dogs and some are cats. Maggie began like Travis did, by drawing pictures and counting. As she worked though, she began to grow tired of drawing so many legs and whiskers and tails. Before long, she realized that she could use her fingers to find her answers, and she stopped drawing each cat and dog and simply wrote down number combinations with one little cat or dog illustrating each answer.

Sarah had more experiences than Maggie or Travis with formal addition so her answers “5 peas and 3 carrots = 8,” “4 carrots and 4 peas = 8,” “7 peas and 1 carrot = 8,” took on a more traditional feel.

Megan’s work looked a lot like algebra as she created abbreviations in her number sentences. In recording combinations of dogs and cats she wrote equations like “4d + 4c=8” and “5d+3c=8.” She could also be pushed to find more and more combinations.

When encouraged to find all the possible combinations for “How many of each?” problems, Sam developed a chart with numbers counting up in one column and numbers counting down in a second column. When other students saw this strategy, it quickly caught on amongst a small group and they wound up working together to develop charts for questions with three or more variables.

I love that the same question can be posed here to the whole group, but that students at different developmental levels can each access it in an appropriate way. As a teacher, I can challenge each child individually as well-- pushing them to try a new strategy or to solve the problem more completely.

Journey Towards Differentiation

When I first took on my current multi-age assignment, I intended to follow the model that the other multi-age teachers in my building used. I would teach the younger students math while the older students worked independently, then teach the older students math while the younger students worked on their own. It sounded so easy, but I quickly found out that the reality was incredibly difficult. Teaching two separate curriculums simultaneously means spending double the amount of time preparing and teaching lessons. Trying to fit two separate math lessons into the finite number of hours making up a school day means that students receive half the instruction that their peers in straight-graded classrooms recieve. Grappling with this reality is where my journey towards differentiation really began.

The first realization that I had was that I was trying to cover too many topics at the same time. One group might be working on addition while the other had moved on to geometry. Then the geometry group might move into money and the addition group would work on place value. All this jumping from concept to concept made planning quite crazy. I decided to try simplifying things by teaching only one conceptual strand at a time. If one group needed to work on geometry, we would all work on geometry. When it was time to study addition, we would all study addition. This made it easier for me to concentrate on planning at least.

My next realization was that even with a stream-lined curriculum I couldn't do everything. Determined to create a nicely coordinated curriculum map, I lugged all my new curriculum guides home and spread them out on the floor of my living room. At the time, my schoold district had adopted the Investigations in Number, Data, and Space (Dale Seymour Publications, 1995) curriculum materials supplemented by the Scott Foresman-Addison Wesley (Pearson Education, Inc., 1997) math curriculum. The first- and second-grade Investigations programs each came in six-volume box sets. The first- and second-grade Scott Foresman series each had four hardcover volumes worth of teachers’ guides and eight paperback volumes full of reproducibles. Looking at this huge amount of material--all thirty-six volumes worth—quickly overwhelmed me once more.

There was something about all those stacks of guidebooks that I found particularly scary. Because I knew that my school district had officially adopted these materials, I felt responsible for teaching every single lesson, using every single reproducible, assigning every single homework set, and investigating every single topic. I felt responsible, and yet I also knew that it was impossible. One teacher with one grade level might attempt the task. One teacher with two grade levels in one classroom absolutely could not. I began to doubt whether teaching math in a multi-age classroom was realistically feasible.

At lunch a few days later I decided to share my worries with another teacher in the building. He had been teaching for many years and the past ten or so had been in multi-age rooms. “Don’t worry about what’s in the guide books,” he told me, “It’s too much. No one could ever do it all.” What a relief to have this acknowledged! “Just teach the Standards. That’s what you‘re ultimately responsible for.”

This advice proved to be incredibly freeing. Rather than feeling that I had to cover every page in each of those thirty-six curriculum guides, I simply had to ensure that I addressed each of the standards. At this point I began to see the curriculum guides reference books for lesson ideas and materials, rather than a complicated puzzle.

Deciding first to teach only one topic at a time and then to focus on the state standards allowed me to develop a curriculum map that was friendlier for the multi-age teacher. However, it did not get me around the fundamental challenge of differentiating instruction. I still believed that differentiating instruction in math meant teaching different lessons to a younger group and an older group, but teaching two math lessons every day, while less difficult in terms of planning, was still logistically challenging. I found that I was worrying less about what I should teach and more about how to schedule in two groups, keeping one group busy while the other was having a lesson.

My most important realization came out of the concern was that I was shortchanging my students out of instructional time which led to me to discover that teaching small group lessons is only one way to differentiate math instruction. After plenty of trial and error, I have come to believe that teaching small groups is one way, but not the only way, and often not the best way. I have found that whole-class open-ended investigations can challenge almost all students simultaneously, while tiered tasks-- tasks which are fundamentally the same, but adjusted for different levels--can be assigned as independent work. I have found that the same problems can be done independently or with support from the teacher, and that whole class instruction can spiral, introducing topics to some children while others are reviewing. In my opinion, it is these other structures for organizing instruction that make differentiated math instruction possible. I am hoping to share more here about these alternatives to the standard small group structure and to offer a glimpse into what these structures look like at work in my classroom.

Why is math difficult to differentiate?

Personally, I believe that math is a more difficult subject for teachers to differentiate than reading and writing. I don't think it's because it can't be done, but rather because it simply hasn't been done. My hunch here is that the traditional structures for teaching math (i.e. model the procedure, practice the procedure together, send students off to practice independently) don't lend themselves well to differentiation. Common practices for teaching literacy, though,--guided reading groups and the writing workshop model--do allow children to pursue work at a variety of levels.

What would it take to find structures that work for differentiating math? The guided reading and writing workshop models have been adapted so widely because the basic structures that underlie these programs are clear. If teachers had easy to use structures for differentiating math instruction, I really believe that they would be happily adopted.

Current math curriculum materials don't even yet recognize the reality of students' differing needs. All the curriculum guides that I have been expected to use as a teacher are designed for straight-graded classrooms and essentially assume that all students are working at the same level. Even programs which are less lock-step and offer more open-ended lesson plans, are usually designed for use with straight grade-level groupings. Adapting them for use in a multi-age classroom is incredibly challenging. Although there are lessons in most curricular programs that work for a range of learners, and sometimes guides come with sidebars explaining adaptations and extensions, most often it is up to the teacher to figure out a way to make the differentiation actually work in the classroom. Our district's new program came with extra reproducibles for struggling and advanced students, but shuffling between all of these extra books is a lot of extra work. It seems to me that math curriculum packages should be produced with the assumption that students in every classroom represent a wide range of skills and abilities and that lessons should be designed with predictable structures that make doing differentiation easy.

Multi-age Made Me Do It

I am the teacher of a multi-age class of first- and second-grade class. I have twenty children in the class-- the youngest has just turned six, the oldest is turning eight. Some are just beginning to sound out words, others are reading chapter books. Some are struggling with counting to thirty; others love to solve mental math problems about numbers in the thousands. Each of these children has a different set of needs and abilities and as the teacher, it is my job to meet those various needs and challenge their various abilities. This can be daunting!

Of course, I realize that this range of skills is not that much more significant than the range one would find in any other classroom. When I taught a straight-graded first-grade, there was a smaller age span, but the range of needs and abilities was almost as wide. I'm sure in the older grades this range is even wider.

Because the children in my classroom are technically in different grades, I am required to differentiate my instruction. In a straight-graded classroom, it might be possible to get away with a one-size-fits-all model of instruction, but in a multi-age setting there is no other way. Neither parents nor administrators would stand for a program that did not account for a variety of needs. So although, I never set out to tackle differentiated instruction, teaching in a multi-age classroom forced me to try.

Differentiating instruction can be incredibly challenging, but it is undoubtedly best practice. Teaching in a multi-age classroom has probably made me a better teacher because it has forced me to adapt, change, experiment, and innovate in an effort to provide a program that meets the needs of all my young students.