Last semester, I spent several months writing a large portfolio for my teaching of writing class. There were four components: a syllabus, an assignment sequence, a set of principled practices for teaching (they had to be grounded in research and theory about writing and writing development, as well as our own values), and a critical reflection about the construction of this portfolio. 

These principled practices were one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to write. What can and should I commit myself to doing every time I step foot in a classroom? How do my beliefs, values, and knowledge about teaching, writing, and Imago Dei inform how I show up for students and myself? While I’m sure these will be revised over time, one of my principled practices, one idea—rooted in my values, beliefs and knowledge—that I have decided to practice or enact throughout my time teaching this semester, is the following: cultivate multidirectional (inward and outward) curiosity for both students and myself.

In order to do so, I designed a daily activity. At the beginning of every class period, I explicitly ask students to put away all phones, computers, and electronics for a total of three minutes. In those three minutes, they must write a question on an index card. They turn the question in at the end of class, and I read them and take attendance later. After several weeks, I sort their questions out and give them back. 

The goal here is fewfold: 

• We must experience three minutes without any stimuli besides our own brains and present sensory experiences. I want us to be bored, and subsequently, to get curious about something. 
• It provides a consistent transition space that orients both students and me (I usually participate) toward class time.
• It allows me to get to know them, who they are, and what they value (and I usually share my question, so they get to know me too). 

While I don’t really know how they feel about the practice, reading their questions after class every day has been a highlight for me. Their (varying sorts) of curiosity has also encouraged mine; perhaps it will increase yours, too. 

Without further ado…some questions students ask:

Will electric cars take over? 

Do you think demigods are real? 

What am I going to wear tonight? 

Does the semester already feel like it’s going slower than the last? 

Why did the ideology of my new religion change me so much? 

I wonder if it’s going to snow this weekend? 

Why has the structure of school remained the same, but everything else has changed or evolved? 

Why whenever I’m doing something exciting, it seems like some unexpected turn takes place?

When were chalkboards invented?

Why are some subjects easier for different people, and what causes different struggles? 

How can I ever know how someone actually feels? 

What are some good books that you have read so far this year? 

How many stars in the universe?

How are you on this cold morning? 

Do you think we are addicted to our phone to do absolutely nothing?

Why do I struggle with the beginning and the intro in my papers so much? 

What is your favorite day of the week?

If mental health is increasingly getting worse, why isn’t neuroscience deemed to be a mandatory class? So people learn how their brain works and are educated on what steps to take? 

Why is the sky blue?

Is there a point to anything, and if so, why?

What will the world look like in 50 years?

Are you considered old at 48 years old? 

What grade did I get on my HTY103 essay?

Who designed the fall winter, off summer school year structure?

Does studying writing actually help when writing for a job might be different and a more specified way of writing? 

How can bees fly? Aren’t their wings too small to be able to actually lift their bodies to fly, or is that just a myth? 

Why do I write to-do lists in my head but refuse to write them down?

Is it a big deal to miss an assignment or two?

Pats fan? Will you be catching the Super Bowl?

What makes me the happiest, and how can I keep it as a part of life?