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Secondary

The Simple Brilliance of Modelling – Teach Students How To Do Something Well, When To Do It and Why

Whether it's algebraic equations or hitting a punching bag at speed, the old 'look and learn' concept takes some beating

Lee Simpson
by Lee Simpson
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SecondaryEnglish

“Hey Teach!” shouts Paddy the Boxing Gym owner, “you’re up on the speed ball now dude – get your gloves off!”

The Speed Ball. This is an apparatus I have been looking forward to using since I started coming to the gym.

It’s that small, teardrop-shaped ball that hangs from the roof in front of a board, which the skilled user will bounce it from with a consistently fast rattle like an automatic machine gun.

In the right hands, this is an elegant exercise demonstrating skill, grace and timing. This is one of the things I have wanted to be able to do since taking up boxing – the elegant duh-duh-duh, duh-duh-duh, duh-duh-duh at such effortless high speed.

Unfortunately, the dream image I have of myself effortlessly stroking the leather of the speed ball is a long way from the reality.

When I get to the speed ball, Paddy is waiting for me. Unsurprisingly, he is striking it with such rapidity that it appears as a blur.

Suddenly, he stops, and puts his arm around my shoulder. “Okay teach, I’m gonna show you how to do this exactly.”

He emphasises the word ‘exactly’ to ensure that there is no confusion on my part – this will be the perfect way to do it, a 100% model.

“You watch me do it right, imitate what I do, and then work towards speed. The key,” he says, “is rhythm. Get the rhythm right and then you can build up the speed.”

He looks me in the eye. “Understand me?”

The thing is, I totally understand. In his excellent book, The Slightly Awesome Teacher, Dominic Salles shows how using ‘worked examples’, also known as ‘modelling’, has an impact size of 0.57 (well above the average impact size on student performance for a teaching strategy).

He states, “To show students how to succeed, you actually need to show them, modelling exactly what success looks like. It is astonishing how often this simple fact is overlooked.”

Modelling is how Paddy teaches all of his students as a boxing coach.

So, what is he doing that works so well? It’s simple really. Firstly, he has modelled what good looks like for me – the “exact” way to do it.

Then, rather like a Personal Learning Checklist, he has broken the act of hitting the speed ball down into a series of skills that I can understand and use to self-regulate my learning.

By showing me what ‘good’ looks like, and providing me with a clear criteria to work towards to be a success, Paddy has made my learning as efficient as possible – and I improve.

So, modelling works. But has the coaching I receive from Paddy at boxing taught me this? Or is it simply just the best type of teaching?

Near the end of the session, I ask Paddy more about his philosophy of teaching. “Teach, it seems simple to me. Teach your students how to do something well, when to do it, and why – it’s not complicated.”

But maybe it is, I tell him. Because a lot of teachers I have worked with seem to be very much against the concept of Modelling.

Paddy looks at me confused so I say to him, “If you had some teachers in front of you now, how would you persuade them that Modelling is the best way to teach a student to be a success.”

He thinks for a minute, and then he says, “I’d make them see that showing a student is better than telling a student. Imagine you are a teacher who doesn’t think that Modelling is a good idea and you don’t know much about boxing. I would say to you that I am going to teach you how to defend yourself against a left jab by telling you how.”

He steps back then and jabs at my head with his left hand before stopping the punch an inch before my face. He then tells me (with a quick demonstration that I don’t have a chance to practise) that I can: catch the punch, slip the punch, roll under the punch or slide out of range if I want to defend myself.

He asks if I understand. I imagine I am someone who knows little or nothing about boxing, so I say, “Sort of”. Paddy repeats his explanation. Then, without warning, Paddy goes to jab me in the face. He pulls up just before making contact.

“Your teacher wouldn’t defend himself very well, would he?” I tell him no. “Well Teach, I would ask that teacher why not. Because I had explained to him what to do, and told him what to do. So, he should have been able to do it, shouldn’t he? That is if telling someone what to do works of course.”

We both know the answer, which is why Paddy is smiling. Paddy would prefer to show his student what Good looks like – slowly and carefully, with plenty of repetition. Just telling a student how to box never works, and if I am honest, I think we know that it doesn’t work for us teachers too. Even if many of us seem to persist in doing it.

“Anyway Teach,” Paddy says, “you’ve been gabbing far too much tonight so let’s you and me get down to some serious conditioning.” I see the giant Tractor Tyre he is looking at, and I know the punishment that is on its way.

So, that’s it for the fistic facts this week colleagues and friends. Paddy has already blasted out fifty push ups from the tyre and he’s shouting at me to join him. Somehow I know that the push ups will only be the beginning.

Wish me luck!


Lee Simpson is director of learning and strategic partnerships at Denefield School, and secondary programme lead for the Berkshire Teaching Alliance. He trains at Fitzpatrick’s Boxing Gym in Swindon.

This feature is the third instalment of his Pugilistic Pedagogy series. Read Part 1 and Part 2 here.

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