Day 299: Explicit (Crystal Clear Doesn't Mean Robotic)

"Today we're going to learn about metaphors," I announced in my best teacher voice. "A metaphor is a figure of speech that describes an object or action in a way that isn't literally true but helps explain an idea or make a comparison. For example..."

I watched their eyes glaze over. Marcus was already doodling. Sarah was braiding her hair. I was being explicit, right? Crystal clear? So why weren't they getting it?

That's when Mrs. Rodriguez, observing from the back, wrote me a note: "Explicit doesn't mean boring. It means visible thinking."

After class, she explained. "You told them what a metaphor is. But did you show them how to find one? How to make one? How to think through one? You were explicit about the definition but invisible about the thinking."

That changed everything about how I understand explicit instruction.

The next day, I tried again. "Watch my brain work. I'm reading this sentence: 'The classroom was a zoo.' My brain stops. Classrooms aren't actually zoos. So why did the author say this? Let me think out loud..."

I mapped my thinking on the board as I spoke. "Zoos have... animals, noise, chaos, wildness. Classrooms have... students, learning, order—wait. Maybe the author means the classroom was chaotic like a zoo? Let me reread with that meaning..."

The difference was electric. Kids were leaning in, watching my thinking become visible. Marcus raised his hand. "So metaphors are like... lying but with a purpose?"

"Show me your thinking," I said.

He came to the board. "The author says something false—classroom equals zoo. But the false thing shares something true with the real thing—both can be chaotic. So it's a purposeful lie that tells a truth."

That's explicit instruction. Not just clear information but visible thinking.

We developed the "Make It Visible" protocol. Every skill I teach, I first make my thinking visible. Not just the what but the how. Not just the answer but the journey. Not just the rule but the reasoning.

Yesterday, teaching comma rules. Old me: "Put commas between items in a series." New me: "Watch me decide where commas go. I'm reading... 'I bought apples bananas and oranges.' My brain feels crowded. Where does apples end and bananas begin? I need to separate them. Comma after apples. Now... 'apples, bananas and oranges.' Still crowded between bananas and oranges. Comma there too."

The kids see the decision-making, not just the rule.

But here's the vulnerability: explicit instruction means exposing your confusion too. When I hit something tricky, I don't smooth over it. "Oh, this is confusing me. Let me work through it." They see struggle as part of thinking, not failure of teaching.

The explicit scaffolding transformed everything. I don't just model once and expect mastery. I model completely, then partially, then barely, then not at all. The thinking transfers gradually, not suddenly.

Monday: I find all the metaphors while thinking aloud.

Tuesday: I find some, kids find some, all thinking aloud.

Wednesday: Kids find most, I help when stuck.

Thursday: Kids find all, I observe.

Friday: Kids find metaphors independently.

That's explicit instruction—the gradual transfer of visible thinking.

The mistake revelation was powerful. Explicit instruction includes explicit mistake-making. "Watch me mess this up. 'The car was a bullet speeding down the highway.' Is speeding a metaphor? Wait, no—speeding is literal. Cars actually speed. The metaphor is car equals bullet. Let me mark my mistake and fix it."

Kids learned that explicit doesn't mean perfect. It means visible, including visible imperfection.

My favorite explicit moment: Jennifer was teaching her table group about similes. She made her thinking completely visible, including her uncertainty. "I think 'like' signals a simile but I'm not sure if it always does. Let me test it..." That's a fourth-grader being explicitly instructional. She learned it from watching me make my teaching thinking visible.

The parent feedback was revealing. "My kid actually explains their thinking now, not just their answers." That's because they've seen thinking made explicit. They know thinking isn't private—it's shareable.