Failing Forward: How Trial and Error Built My Best Teaching
Why Project-Based Learning Makes Lessons Unforgettable
After more than a decade in the classroom, I can say this with full confidence: the lessons my students remember most are rarely the ones where I “covered” everything perfectly. They remember the ones where the learning felt real.
When I first started teaching, I believed strong instruction meant polished lectures, detailed notes, and well-structured essays. If my slides looked sharp and my pacing was tight, I felt successful. But over time, I noticed something important: students didn’t light up when I explained content—
they lit up when they experienced it.
Through years of trial and error, and more than a few lessons that didn’t go as planned, I shifted away from traditional methods alone. I moved toward projects, performances, and simulations that allowed students to live the text instead of just reading it. I stopped asking, “How can I present this?” and started asking, “How can students embody this?”
One of the clearest examples is my Hamlet on Trial assessment. Instead of writing a standard literary analysis essay, students transform into lawyers, judges, witnesses, and expert psychologists in a full courtroom trial to determine whether Hamlet is legally sane. They pull textual evidence, apply psychological theory, follow courtroom protocol, and argue their case. The room buzzes with objections, cross-examinations, and closing statements. Shakespeare stops feeling distant—it feels immediate and alive.
In my 1984 unit, students design original board games that explore totalitarian control, propaganda, surveillance, and resistance. I’ve seen games where players get “vaporized,” where Newspeak cards alter the rules mid-game, and where every mechanic ties back to a theme, symbol, or quote. The classroom gets loud and a little chaotic, but the analysis is deeper because students build the world themselves. They don’t forget it.
With Lord of the Flies, I don’t just ask students to analyze the boys’ descent into savagery—I ask them to feel the pressure of survival. We run a classroom simulation where they form tribes, create laws, negotiate resources, and face moral dilemmas that mirror the novel. Afterward, we unpack the choices they made. Who reached for power? Who stayed quiet? Who compromised their values? That is when the themes truly land.
For Beowulf, instead of listing epic-hero traits, students deliver their own epic boasts in elevated, Anglo-Saxon-inspired language. Nervous at first, they eventually stand before their peers and proclaim what they’re proud of—their resilience, work ethic, victories, or unique strengths. In that moment, something shifts. They hear their own power. Content mastery and confidence building happen simultaneously.
Even The Canterbury Tales becomes a student favorite when they create modern pilgrims and pitch their “tale” in a Shark Tank-style presentation. Influencers, activists, entrepreneurs, athletes—they build characters with motives and satire, then pitch their stories. They laugh, debate, and discover that Chaucer’s social critique is still painfully relevant.
These experiences take more planning than a quiz and packet. I’ve spent countless evenings rewriting rubrics, reshaping directions, or completely overhauling a project after it fell flat. What once felt like failure now feels like the cost of innovation—and a crucial part of growth.
What I know now is this: students don’t just need to learn information. They need to live it. Performance-based assessments create higher engagement, deeper thinking, and an energy that makes students want to participate. Assessments stop feeling like a test and start feeling like a challenge, a performance, or a game—something that honors their creativity and their voice.
If veteran teaching has taught me anything, it’s this: students remember how your class felt long after they forget the details of your slides. When they feel seen, challenged, and trusted to do something real with their learning, the lesson sticks.
And to any educator still finding their way, remember: success in teaching rarely comes from getting it perfect on the first try. It comes from experimenting, reflecting, refining, and having the courage to step beyond what’s safe. Experience is built on trial and error—on small risks that lead to big breakthroughs.
Stepping into project-based learning isn’t just shifting your instruction. It’s transforming the way students experience learning itself. And that journey—messy, creative, and constantly evolving—is always worth it.
