In teacher preparation, we often talk about the importance of preservice teachers observing teaching strategies in action. We model grouping methods, scaffolding techniques, differentiation approaches, and dozens of micromoves that help a classroom run smoothly. Yet, one of the most surprising realizations I had last year was this: Despite all the modeling I was doing in my university classroom, my preservice teachers were not actually recognizing it.
I would spend an entire class intentionally varying group structures, using checks for understanding, re-explaining a concept in a new modality, and adjusting instruction in real time. Afterward, when I asked students what teaching strategies they noticed me using, they struggled to name even one. They were engaged and taking notes on the subject matter, but the pedagogical “why” behind my moves was invisible.
The realization left me frustrated. If my future teachers were leaving my college courses unaware of the teaching strategies I was using, then I was not preparing them effectively. They needed a system that explicitly surfaced the thinking behind my pedagogical decisions. And I needed a structure that made this reflection predictable, safe, and quick.
What I found was the medical huddle.
Medical teams use huddles to promote a shared understanding of a patient’s care among all team members, regardless of experience level. They review what happened, identify any new challenges, and, most importantly, intentionally acknowledge successful efforts. These huddles are deliberate and concise. They turn the implicit into the explicit.
As I read about their use in health-care settings, I found myself thinking: If huddles help medical professionals make their invisible thinking visible, why couldn’t they do the same for teachers? In a classroom, so much of what makes teaching effective is similarly hidden, especially to novice teachers watching from the outside. That quiet decision to switch seating, the mid-lesson check for understanding, the strategic pairing of students for a turn-and-talk, these decisions are second nature to veteran teachers but entirely opaque to beginners.
I decided to adapt this structure, telling my students at the end of the very next class, “We’re going to start doing huddles.” Our huddles are short, never more than 15 minutes, and they always begin with the same question: “What did you see me do or model in class today?” I guide them to think in categories: grouping, management, engagement, differentiation, content delivery, and assessment. These categories matter. They help students sort their observations.
Students consistently tell me they leave huddles with strategies they can immediately apply in their practicum classrooms.
At first, students were hesitant. Their initial answers were broad: “You had us work in groups,” or “You asked us questions.” But as we continued the routine week after week, something shifted. Their observations became sharper and more sophisticated:
- “You grouped us by putting different stickers on our papers during the reading task.”
- “You checked for understanding with a nonverbal signal before moving on.”
- “You rephrased the directions using a visual when a few people looked confused.”
- “You differentiated the task by giving us a choice of how we wanted to show our understanding.”
As they named each move, I explained my reasoning: why I chose to group them that way, why I altered the pacing, and why I provided choices. These conversations have become some of the most powerful moments in my courses. Students consistently tell me they leave huddles with strategies they can immediately apply in their practicum classrooms. The second component of our huddle is a simple prompt: “What issues or concerns should we discuss this week?”
This part, unexpectedly, has given education faculty members insights into the student experience we otherwise would not have had. Student teachers often hesitate to voice concerns unless invited in a structured, predictable way. The huddle does that.
One important issue surfaced early on. Several students admitted they felt confused about the timeline for taking their state teacher-certification examinations. They did not know when they should take each exam nor how to budget for them. Certification exams are expensive, and students were quietly anxious about the costs as well as mastering the material.
As a faculty, once we heard the concern, we addressed it immediately. We created a clear exam timeline, semester by semester. Students could now anticipate when tests were coming, plan financially, and reduce stress long before they reached the registration screen. It was a need faculty had not even recognized, but the huddle made it visible.
Other concerns have been smaller: confusion about an assignment, questions about clinical placements, uncertainty about program expectations, but each one has led to honest conversation and early intervention rather than frustration.
We end every huddle with one last question: “What can we celebrate this week?”
This is nonnegotiable. Preservice teachers often see the gap between where they are and where they want to be but not the steps they have already taken. Asking them to identify a win, however small, helps build confidence and a sense of progress.
Sometimes, the celebrations are big: Someone taught their first lesson. Other times, they are smaller but meaningful: One of the preservice teachers connected with a cooperating teacher or finally felt comfortable redirecting student behavior. Naming these accomplishments reinforces a culture of progress rather than perfection.
Huddles take less than 15 minutes, yet they have transformed the way my preservice teachers learn from the classes I teach. They help move pedagogy from theory to action. They surface needs before they become barriers. They build community, reduce stress, and anchor each week with a moment of celebration.
In a field as complex as teaching, small routines can make a big difference. Sometimes, the most powerful innovations are the simplest ones. From my experience, adding huddles to your classroom or school routines is worth considering.
