On Slowness

An unhurried pedagogical approach to teaching and learning in my classroom.

Photo by Валерия on Unsplash

The space you have, which reason can prolong, although it naturally hurries away, of necessity escapes from you quickly; for you do not seize it, you neither hold it back, nor impose delay upon the swiftest thing in the world, but you allow it to slip away as if it were something superfluous and that could be replaced.

Seneca, On the Shortness of Life

As a young teacher, I was always anxious about lesson pacing. The more I rushed, the further I fell behind my teammates, and my teaching suffered for it. As the minutes ticked on, I felt pressure for my students to quickly understand so that I could move on to the next learning activity or lesson. Even when I became so engrossed in a classroom discussion, afterwards, I would rush and cut things in order to make up for lost time. I never felt as though these discussions were wastes of time, but they prevented me from keeping pace with my colleagues and our curriculum guides.

At one school, my colleagues and I would rotate students for science and social studies. As a team, we would plan for a 3-week or 6-week unit, rotate students to different classrooms, and teach that same unit to another class. This system requires keeping to a strict timetable. My teammates would each teach a science unit and I would teach the social studies units for every fifth-grader. I remember one time when I was so far behind, and I completely forgot about rotating.¹ I was mid-teaching when another class of students arrived at my door for their turn at having me as their social studies teacher. I quickly forced my own students to pack up and rushed them out of the classroom to the neighboring teacher for their next science lesson! I was stressed. Students were stressed and confused. Later in the day, I apologized to my students, and tried to fit what US History I teaching them during another part of the day.

When the morning bell rings at 7:45 AM, students are expected to be in their seats, math books open, ready for the day’s standardized lesson. I only have 90 minutes allotted for my math instruction before our 120 minutes of literacy. This time schedule does not account for transitions between subjects, student meltdowns, tangential conversations, or fire drills. Every minute not spent teaching the curriculum is viewed as wasteful and inefficient. I refuse to accept these constraints.

As I have acquired more classroom teaching experience and more confidence in the ways in which I teach that I know are best for my students, I have grown comfortable with resisting this public school maelstrom. One way I resist the whirlwind pacing and unrealistic expectations is through deliberate slowness or unhurried pedagogy.²

Slow Pedagogy

I did not realize that slow pedagogy was a conceptual framework until I began researching Early Childhood Education (ECE) and the origins of Kindergarten. I had heard of slow eating³ and even the slow living mindset. But slow teaching? I didn’t realize that a theory of teaching and learning, popularized by Helen Tovey’s 2017 book, Bringing the Froebel Approach to your Early Years Practice, existed. Slow pedagogy is based on a Froebelian approach to early childhood education. Many might recognize the name Friedrich Froebel, a German educator who created a program for young children in 1837 based on play and activity. He believed in the importance of free choice in developing a child’s creativity in the first three years of their life. Many consider him the founder of the kindergarten movement and a theorist who advocated the importance of constructive play and self-activity in early childhood education.

I think most people would love to adopt a slower lifestyle. Whether that means taking more time in the mornings to watch the birds or squirrels in your backyard, or settling into a novel with a cup of tea or coffee. Unfortunately, our society favors fast. Hustle culture demands that we maximize every spare minute we have. Whether we are children or adults, our days are often divvied up into blocks of time. From meetings to class periods, we spend the majority of our lives moving from one obligation to another without much pause in between. This is strikingly counter to a Froebelian pedagogical practice. Helen Tovey explains that the use of adults’ time is crucially linked to children’s growing independence and autonomy. Froebelian teachers must create long periods of open-ended uninterrupted time, freed from all unnecessary interruptions.⁴

When I think of long periods of uninterrupted time, I do not think of a public school classroom. Time in school is full of interruptions. Teachers and students transition from one academic subject to another until the end of the day.⁵ Not until learning in collegiate classrooms, does one begin to focus on a single subject, but even then, there is often abrupt mental movements from one concept or theoretical framework to the next, without much time for reflection, deep analysis, or understanding.

In Thomas Newkirk’s book, The Art of Slow Reading, he makes a case for reading slowly, especially in a time of innumerable distractions and demands of our attention.

We read for pleasure and meaning — and to do so, we must be able to control the tempo of our reading. And that by slowing down, by refusing to see reading as a form of consumption or efficient productivity, we can attend to word meanings and sound, building a bridge to the oral traditions that writing arose out of. Reading instruction should make this slowness possible.

Reading slowly and with intention is a beautiful and humbling experience. Select any novel that you believe you know well, and take your time re-reading it at a pace that allows you to notice word meaning, sounds, and the author’s craft of sentences. I’ve participated in a couple of slow-reads and I guarantee you see familiar ideas anew; you notice phrases you didn’t before, you are confused in sections you believed you understood the first time to read the novel. When you take your time reading something new, you give yourself permission to sit with concepts and deepen your understanding. There are no hot takes in slow reading. It’s just you and the book.

If only public school classrooms allowed for this pace of reading and kind of thinking. As I’ve written before, there are no shortcuts to deep and meaningful learning. Last year, I tried to incorporate deep thinking in my classroom with a learning experience I called The Thinkatorium. Each week, I gave my students time to synthesize their thoughts on a philosophical topic. I wanted my students to think deeply about challenging concepts, such as What is truth? What is the meaning of life? What is freedom?

Unsurprisingly, as the year progressed, our weekly class discussions kept getting shortened, and then finally cut, to make time for our standardized curriculum. As hard as I tried to make time for something I valued, I felt increasing pressure to submit to the culture of speed and efficiency in public education. Instead of losing ourselves to the collective flow of lively discussions, I capitulated to focus on time management.

Nel Noddings, writing in Caring in Education believes that forming caring relations is the foundation for any teacher’s pedagogical practice. She famously asked, Do we put more emphasis on teaching the curriculum or on teaching the child? I focus on teaching the students assigned to me. Many slow pedagogical theorists reference Noddings when advocating for slowing down in public education because forming caring relationships with each student takes time. Time, Noddings believes, is well spent.

Time should be spent on the development of trust so that the advice, care, and instruction given by the teacher will be received by students with understanding and appreciation.

Nel Noddings, Philosophy of Education

So when during our winter break, I read a collection of Wendell Berry essays, I imagined how I could slow down my classroom. While researching for ideas I could implement, I stumbled upon the concept of slow pedagogy. In March, 2024, The University of Edinburgh examined their Early Learning Centre (ELC) staff’s understanding of Slow Pedagogy and the impact on a child’s experience at school. When surveying participants, they found that slow pedagogy meant pausing and taking time to build relationships with children, families and connecting with our local and wider community; tak[ing] time to observe the beauty of children's individual learning.

Building relationships with my students and helping them feel a sense of belonging in my classroom is at the heart of my teaching philosophy. The more I researched, the more I was struck by how connected slow pedagogy is to Froebelian philosophy and Nel Nodding’s Caring in Education. It appears that much of the research around slow pedagogy in currently happening in the UK, primarily focusing on early childhood education. Unfortunately, I was unable to locate much research on if/how slow pedagogy is occuring in American public school classrooms.⁶ I wonder what this approach might look like in my own classroom, given my constraints. What would it look like to combine Nodding’s perspective on care with a Froebelian pedagogical practice?

Even though I do not use any formalized slow pedagogical approach, I do actively resist the hustle and maddening pace of school. In a few small ways, I intentionally structure care, my students’ humanity, and slow the pace of my classroom.

A Soft Start and Slow Transitions

I’ve been in many professional development trainings where there is a soft start time. Adults are allowed to socialize, use the restroom, get something to eat, and get settled before the training. Why should I treat my students any different? Especially after a long weekend, or extended break, students are not ready to begin learning immediately upon entering the classroom. Students are not machines that can be turned on or off.

I like to spend the first 10-15 minutes of the morning socializing with my students. Many are still eating breakfast when they arrive, so I let them eat and chat with their peers while I mingle. I usually have a fun puzzle up on the board or a philosophical question to discuss. Having a soft start allows us to be more human. It is a resistance to our schedule. Like Thoreau, I believe that civil disobedience is a way I can safely protest the unjust tempo of public education, while promoting my students’ humanity.

I’ve also never liked jarring transitions. I don’t understand how one is expected to close a textbook and move onto a completely different topic. What if I need more time to practice or think about a concept? Nope! It’s time to move on. It’s challenging, but I always try and soften the transitions between academic subjects. If I see that my students are still engaged in writing at the end of our writing time, I won’t interrupt them. Instead, I mentally calculate how to slowly transition them. Sometimes, this means giving them an extra ten minutes to come to a stopping place; other times, it means feeling the engagement of the room and ending things naturally.

Does budgeting for socializing or extending students’ work time put me behind in my mathematics instruction? Perhaps. But instead of stressing, I am more confident in knowing which standards are most essential, and which learning activities can be cut because they have less value. When I slow down, I believe that my teaching is better, even if that means I teach fewer subjects that day. I choose quality over quantity. When I slow down, I’m more mindful and explain concepts better. I’m more patient when my students do not understand. It is easier for me to pivot when something isn’t working the way I had planned. Slowing down makes me a better teacher.

A Daily Pack Walk

Five years ago, I began taking my students on a walk around the school building every day at the same time. This ritual started while I was teaching during the pandemic. Students were stuck in their seats all day because of social distancing. I tried introducing a movement break where students could stand up and stretch, but that didn’t work. Even when distancing guidelines relaxed, my students didn’t care to move around. Taking a walk gave us a chance to get fresh air and eat our snacks.

Today, our daily walk is a classroom staple. After their elective classes, students grab their snack and we go on a pack walk.⁷ Over the years, I’ve noticed that this extra movement helps my students better regulate their emotions and creates another space for me to connect with them individually. I take song requests (putting a student on aux), connect my phone to my fanny pack speakers, and we walk for a couple of songs. In this time, I’ve helped students resolve conflicts, learned about my students’ lives outside of school, and even explained some tricky academic concepts. Walking and talking lightens moods, lowers stress, and improves learning. It’s also a lot of fun!

Our 2024-2025 Class Playlist

Afternoon Meditation

Since the first day of school, I have modeled for my students focused-attention meditation (concentrating on a single object, thought, or visualization) and open-monitoring meditation (broadening our awareness of our environment). I wish I could say that every student meditates with me every day. Even when I bribe them with Jolly Rancher candies, It doesn’t always work. However, even if they are just watching me with my eyes closed breathing in and out, they still hear Andy’s soothing voice guiding us through each of our mindfulness exercises. Some students sit there and draw or color. Taking a few moments to remain quiet and breathe together may not inspire my class of 10-year olds to become monks, but it does show them the importance of staying present, breathing, and focusing on mental health. After recess, meditating helps us all recenter and refocus so that we can finish our day positively.

So far this year, my students and I have meditated for 406 minutes using Andy Puddicombe’s Headspace. We have completed 67 sessions since August. That is almost 7 hours of mindfulness, stress relief, and self-awareness!

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I make no claims to be a Froebelian educator, or any sort of expert on slow pedagogy. Every day in the classroom is a struggle to be unhurried. Going down this rabbit hole as been good reminder for me on the importance of teaching and learning in slow and messy ways. If you have any experience with slow pedagogy, I’d love to hear about it!

Have a great week!

— Adrian

Resources

• In 1838 the German educator, Friedrich Froebel, opened the Play and Activity Institute. He later called it Kindergarten because he believed that young children should be nurtured and nourished like plants in a garden. This animated video is good overview of Froebel and his philosophy of learning.

• This 10-minute video summarizes slow pedagogy. The Froebel Trust is a UK charity working to ensure that the Froebelian framework of principled education and care is recognised, understood, valued and practised across the early childhood sector for the benefit of young children in the UK and internationally.

• Another good article outlining the core tenants of slow pedagogy is Taking Back Time, also by The Froebel Trust.

Inventing Kindergarten by Norman Brosterman

• This book is a comprehensive look at the theory of the original kindergarten classrooms. The pictures are incredible, showing students playing abstract exercises outdoors, including farming and building.

How Pedagogy Makes the Difference in U.S. Schools by Gloria Ladson-Billings

• This essay by Gloria Ladson-Billings is a more recent discussion of slow pedagogy in the United States. Billings is specifically criticizing the notion of accelerated learning for marginalized student in the name of “catching up.”

• The Voice of Early Childhood Podcast interviewed Professor Alison Clark about slow pedagogy within early childhood education. It’s almost an hour-long episode, so if you want to skip around, I recommend skipping to the 15:30 mark to hear about the 1980s Slow Movement or the 32:30 to learn about slow knowledge.

• This is such a great TED Talk! Carl Honore is the voice of the slow movement, and even has a wonderful Substack newsletter, Tempo.

Welcome to Headspace for Educators

• Headspace offers FREE access to K-12 teachers and supporting staff in the US, UK, Canada, and Australia. Just click on the above link.

• If you are not an educator or work in education, here is a free 30-Day Guest Pass.

1. I thought I had another week of instruction with this group of students.

2. I do not mean to imply that my teaching is sluggish or apathetic; I very much teach with a intellectual fervor.

3. A movement which started with The Slow Foods Manifesto of 1986.

4. Tovey, H. (2017) Bringing the Froebel Approach to your Early Years Practice. 2nd ed. London: David Fulton.

5. Even a teacher’s negotiated plan time or lunch break is often filled with meetings, and very little time for actual planning, reflecting, or eating.

6. The University of Alaska Fairbanks’ Center for Teaching and Learning uses Peter Shaw and Jennifer Russell’s (2013) Framework for Slow Teaching with Technological Enhancements when discussing professional development for their pre-service teachers.

7. Our school mascot is a coyote, so naming this ritual a Pack Walk fits.