In English class, a ninth grader makes a point that surprises her classmates. Another student immediately jumps in and says he disagrees, pointing to a line of text farther down the page. The teacher points to a third student who says that, from a certain perspective, both are correct. Their classmates twist in their seats as they listen to the back and forth, and angle for their own opportunity to contribute.

This spontaneous discussion is both enriching and irresistible for both students and teachers. Anyone who works in a school is always hoping for this kind of productive spontaneity—but, by its very definition, these spontaneous moments are impossible to plan for. 

Or are they? 

I’ve observed thousands of classes over decades as a teacher, administrator and curriculum developer and I’m starting to see a surprising correlation between these spontaneous moments and a simple, predictable schedule.  

It is surprising because educators create complex schedules in order to carefully craft the best possible conditions for students to engage with their work: Double-block classes allow more time for science labs or pre-career internships. Shorter blocks allow for particular types of skills interventions. Rotating schedules ensure that one class doesn’t always meet at the end of the day. And so on.

But while a complex schedule seems like it should provide for the most engaged and productive learning environment, I’ve seen over and over again that it ultimately distracts students and teachers from the most authentic engagement. 

When class schedules are variable, everyone is checking the time—when does this particular class on this particular day actually end? A shy student who is on the verge of adding an insight, will clam up when her peer buries herself in her binder to check on the schedule for a blue day on an odd week (or is it actually a green day on an even week?). Her teacher, calculating an ever shifting schedule, can’t seem to establish a discussion protocol that students can own and direct. Distracted by pacing issues, the teacher doesn’t notice when a struggling student wants to speak up. She wants to know what each student has to say, but is there time?

But when every class meets for, say, 55 minutes, students and teachers internalize the length of the class and are not distracted by pacing and timing. After the first week or two of the school year, the teacher has figured out how to fit in regular discussions, has trained students how to participate authentically, and can focus on listening to what the students say. 

Moments in which they share their insights are irresistible for high school students. Simple, predictable schedules can help create the conditions for those spontaneous moments to happen—almost on schedule.

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