If you search online for a definition of the word ‘scaffold’ you may come across some of the following descriptions:

  • a temporary or movable platform for workers (as bricklayers, painters, or miners) to stand or sit on when working at a height above the floor or ground
  • a platform at a height above ground or floor level

If you search a little deeper you may find descriptions that reference educational settings such as:

  • a supporting framework
  • specialized instructional supports that need to be in place in order to best facilitate learning when students are first introduced to a new subject

But you may also come across this:

  • a platform on which a criminal is executed

 The idea of instructional scaffolding has been present since Lev Vygotsky’s ‘zone of proximal development’ theory was introduced to Western cultures in the 1970’s.  For most educators today, the concept of providing support to students who are learning to acquire a new skill or concept is not unfamiliar.  For decades, instructional scaffolding has been recognized as an efficient classroom practice for maximizing teaching and learning.

When you consider current teaching practices across the US, you may find that many equate the ‘gradual release of responsibility’ model to instructional scaffolding.  I partly agree with this line of thinking.  Simply defined, the gradual release model can be described as ‘I do, we do, you do’.  When a new skill or concept is presented, the teacher front loads the learning by modeling and thinking aloud.  She takes the guess work out of the task by explicitly explaining and modeling the new skill or concept.  After a sufficient amount of time, the responsibility begins to shift from the teacher to her students.  They share the responsibility of the skill or concept.  The teacher turns into a coach who guides her students’ learning by providing specific feedback about their performance and/or intervening to take over the task when necessary.  This shared responsibility continues until the students display increasing independence with the task.  At which point, the full load of the responsibility is transferred to the student  leaving the teacher to continue to provide feedback as well as prepare to begin the cycle again with a new skill or concept.

In conjunction with the gradual release of responsibility model, the settings in which this model is implemented also provides students with an instructional scaffold.  Often, the first part of the model ‘I do’ is preformed in a whole class setting.  The entire class observes the teacher’s modeling and thinking aloud.  The ‘we do’ portion often takes place in a small group, offering the teacher opportunities to give focused feedback in a small, guided group setting.  The final stage, ‘you do’ happens during independent working times.  The teacher makes herself available to conference with individual students.  In this way, she is able to assess individual student progress and determine when it is time to introduce a new concept.  I am true believer in the power of teaching students using this framework.  When teaching opportunities are planned using this framework, student learning surges.

Boiled down, the ‘I do, we do, you do’ framework appears to be quite simple.  In theory, this may be true.  In implementation, it is not.  I fear however, that this is framework has been boiled down and simplified.  Turned into an educational formula rather than a thoughtful teaching practice.  Instead of carefully crafting lessons that move in and out of the three parts of the framework, some are simply pushing ‘auto-pilot’ and planning one whole class ‘I do’ lesson, a few ‘we do’ lessons, and turning the ‘you do’ portion into independent seat-work without teacher feedback.  In the end, if you teach this way you run the risk of seriously compromising your scaffolding. When you equate instructional scaffolding to this simplified, formula-driven model, you run the risk of having your scaffold defined as ‘a platform on which a criminal is executed’ instead of ‘a supporting framework’.

This may sound dramatic. And, let me be clear in saying that I’m not trying to equate students to criminals OR teaching to execution. However, if we aren’t providing our students with enough instructional supports to make deep and thoughtful connections to their learning, then we aren’t really meeting the requirements of what instructional scaffolding means.  Indirectly, isn’t that like setting them up to fail?  An ‘education execution’ if you will.

The next time you are planning a series of lessons for your students, reconsider this framework.  Take a minute to determine if you are putting your plans on ‘auto-pilot’.  Be mindful of the amount of modeling and thinking aloud you need to do in order to truly create a clear picture of your learning objectives.  Reflect on the amount time you allow for guided practice.  Be vigilant in planning time to meet with individual students to share honest and helpful feedback.  Doing this will insure that you propel their learning forward.

I’ll close with a connection to real life (as I often try to do).  When I think about instructional scaffolding, I think about the process of teaching my daughter how to walk.  She didn’t learn to crawl until she was 9-10 months old.  She walked at 14 months.  The 4-5 months between these two milestones went something like this.  Shealagh spent a great deal of time trying to keep up with us by cruising around on all fours.  Sometimes she would stop, sit and watch us move.  Sometimes we would stop, sit and watch her crawl.  Eventually she began crawling to sturdy (and…be still my heart, not so sturdy) objects around our house.  She would pull herself up and hand over hand, move around the object.  We would be right next to her, cheering her on, smiling at her, encouraging and praising her movements.  As she started to become more and more secure with both hands, she began balancing with one hand only.  Over the course of time, we began walking around the house with her.  First with both of her hands secured in ours.  Later with one of her hands secured in one of ours.  All the while, we cheered and smiled, encouraged and praised.  Finally, we moved to the last stage of the process when she would stand on her own to feet and take steps toward us.  At first, it was one or two steps…then three or four…then quite a bit more.  Until, eventually, she didn’t really need us at all.  She could walk!

This process may be very familiar to you.  What may not be so familiar, are the parallels that you can make between this process and the gradual release model.  If you take a minute to consider the model (as described above) and Shealagh’s learning to walk process, it’s easy to see the similarities.  It’s also easy to see that the process isn’t so easy.  It took 5 months for goodness sake!  There were lots of opportunities for her dad and me to model the process for her.  She received plenty of guided practice and important, positive feedback along the way.  And, eventually she was able to take over the full brunt of the responsibility by walking on her own.  While the gradual release model was utilized in this natural way, you can also see that we went in and out of the three parts of the model.  It wasn’t an ‘I do, we do, you do’ linear process.  It was an ‘I do, we do, you do, we do, you do, we do, I do, we do, you do, you do, you do…’  I think you get the picture!

What kind of instructional scaffolds are you providing to your students?  Are you they strong enough to help them ‘learn to walk’ on their own?

Definition of ‘scaffold’ found on the following websites: