Can You "Teach Like a Pirate"? Should You?

I first heard about the "Teach Like a Pirate" approach from DLMOOC classmate, Tim Flanagan (see his Storify about Student Voice and Choice). Curious, I looked for more information online.

I discovered that the idea comes from professional development speaker, Dave Burgess, who has written a book about it: Teach Like a PIRATE. I found one of Dave's seminars, recorded as a TEDx Talk (unfortunately, the sound quality deteriorates at 4:25, but skip ahead to 6:00 and it clears up again):



I have great admiration for anyone who can bring passion and energy to a classroom presentation. I've seen other educators who are entertaining, engaging speakers, and I would happily pay to attend their classes. For example . . .

Professor Linwood Thompson delivers World History lectures  in full costume and character.



Professor Edward Burger adds a touch of humor to his Great Courses lectures (the "Joy of Thinking" is my favorite) and Thinkwell Math instruction, as in the example below.



And then there's the renowned Professor Walter Lewin, famous for his physics lectures.



So . . .  Should YOU Teach Like a Pirate?

No doubt, these teachers are extraordinary. Certainly if you think you would love teaching like a pirate and have simply been afraid to try, don't hold back. As Burgess says, "We need people who are willing to try new things." You could be the next Burgess, Thompson, Burger, or Lewin.

But, what if you don't want to teach like a pirate?

When I see educators (at home or in schools) designing extraordinary projects, putting on shows, and keeping their kids entertained with engaging performances, I feel inspired by them but also discouraged. I can't imagine myself doing the same things. By now, I know myself well enough to know I wouldn't enjoying "teaching like a pirate," especially not as an everyday practice. When I first started homeschooling, though, I second-guessed everything I did.

Unfortunately, it is human nature for us to compare ourselves to others, whether we intend to or not. I think home educators are especially prone to self-doubt. Few of us are trained educators, and all of us confront skeptics who question whether we should be teaching our kids. Understandably, we look to each other for encouragement and advice. 

At parent gatherings, we discuss how to inspire our kids when they seem to lack motivation. I've noticed there's always at least one person who advocates what I call an "entertainment method" of teaching. With the best of intentions, she'll talk about how she "makes learning fun" for her kids by planning elaborate games and projects. She knows how to turn every road trip into an educational experience. As long as she keeps performing, her kids seem to stay interested. I don't mean any of this as a criticism: homeschooling parents with this much energy and enthusiasm are great resources, full of wonderful, creative ideas. 

"Can I do this?" 

However,  I think parents who are new to homeschooling, the ones who come to homeschool gatherings looking beleaguered, are more likely to be asking themselves, "Will I be able to homeschool my kids successfully if I'm not able to do what this other person does?" They need to feel empowered to chart their own course, to know there's more than one way to be an effective educator. 

I also believe that, while there's nothing intrinsically wrong with keeping kids entertained to promote learning, educators don't have to become the entertainment. I've witnessed unnecessarily high levels of stress and burn-out when educators (parents or teachers) fear this is the only way their kids will learn. There's no guarantee that making subjects entertaining, enticing kids to learn, will result in deeper learning—but I'll leave that topic for another time.

If teaching like a pirate doesn't appeal to you, trust your instincts and try something else. Kids respond to role models who are authentic—a compassionate, reserved teacher who believes in her students can be just as successful as one who puts on a good show.