Every summer seems to start the same way.

That first week feels like a deep breath. For the first time in months, you wake up without immediately thinking about lesson plans, tomorrow’s activities, grading, emails, or wondering what unexpected twist is going to send your perfectly planned day in a completely different direction. The pace slows down, and for a little while, it’s exactly what you need.

But it never takes long.

Before I know it, I find myself missing what is, without question, the hardest part of my job—and also the very best part.

My students.

There is something incredibly special about spending nearly every day with a group of young people as they grow, struggle, succeed, surprise you, and gradually become more confident versions of themselves. They challenge me to become a better teacher every single year, and I genuinely can’t imagine doing anything else.

As this summer has unfolded, I’ve found myself reflecting on the school year we just wrapped up. It was, without a doubt, one of the most rewarding years of my career—one that will be incredibly difficult to top. Not because everything went perfectly, but because of the incredible growth I had the privilege of witnessing, the relationships that were built, and the countless moments that reminded me why I chose this profession in the first place.

Before I share one of the most memorable professional experiences of my career from this summer, I want to start where every meaningful reflection on my work should begin: with my students.

As I looked back over the year, one thing stood out more than anything else.

This was the year I intentionally expanded where literacy lived in my classroom.

For the past several years, I’ve been exploring ways to weave reading, writing, speaking, and critical thinking into physical education in ways that feel authentic to the learning rather than added onto it. This year, I made a conscious effort to push that idea even further. While I’m incredibly proud of how far the work has come, I still feel like I’m only scratching the surface of what’s possible.

The result was one of the most creative and rewarding years I’ve experienced as a teacher.

My students wrote stories about championship basketball games played in complete darkness. They imagined volleyball matches against serving cyborg robots. They turned barbells, bench presses, and deadlifts into rap lyrics that somehow managed to be both hilarious and surprisingly educational. Time and again, they embraced the opportunity to think differently, and they never disappointed.

While I wish I could share every project, I want to highlight one assignment that has become a favorite of mine.

Earlier this year, I introduced an assessment called Diary of a Barbell—an activity I’ve written about elsewhere on this blog. Students selected six workouts from throughout the semester and revisited each one through an unexpected lens. Rather than describing the workout from their own perspective, they wrote a diary entry from the perspective of the equipment they had used.

Creativity That Couldn’t Be Assigned

When I first picked up one student’s diary entry, I thought I was reading a single story about our Farmer’s Walk handles. Then I noticed a line drawn neatly down the center of the page.

She hadn’t written one diary entry.

She had written two.

One from the perspective of the left handle and one from the perspective of the right.

Even more impressive, each handle had its own personality, opinions, and voice. What started as a simple reflection became a conversation between two pieces of equipment that had experienced the exact same workout in completely different ways.

I remember putting the paper down for a moment just to appreciate what had happened.

No rubric asked her to do that.

No example modeled it.

She simply found a creative opportunity and ran with it.

When I look at work like this, I don’t just see imagination. I see perspective-taking, voice, characterization, and audience awareness—all literacy skills that emerged naturally because the assignment created space for them.

Reflection With Something to Say

One of the challenges with reflective writing in physical education is that students often default to surface-level responses.

“I’m bad at this.”

“I need to get stronger.”

“Today was hard.”

There’s nothing wrong with those reflections—but they rarely require students to think very deeply.

What surprised me most about Diary of a Barbell was how quickly students moved beyond those predictable responses.

As you look through the examples below, notice how often students explain why something mattered, revisit earlier workouts, describe changes in confidence, or wrestle with challenges they experienced throughout the semester.

You’ll probably notice something else, too.

Almost every student filled the space they were given.

Each diary entry was roughly half a page, and students completed six of them over the course of the assessment. That’s approximately three pages of authentic writing from students in a strength and conditioning class—writing that many of them may not have been nearly as motivated to produce in a more traditional setting.

Is every sentence perfect?

Of course not.

But every paragraph represents meaningful practice, and meaningful practice is where growth begins.

When Fiction Reveals Something Real

Of all the submissions I received this year, one has stayed with me more than any other.

It was titled “Saying Goodbye.”

The story was written from the perspective of a barbell watching one of its lifters complete what would likely be their final squat workout before leaving middle school.

On the surface, it was exactly what the assignment asked students to do.

The barbell described the workout.

The sets.

The reps.

The effort.

But somewhere along the way, the story quietly became something else.

As the barbell reflected on the workout, it also reflected on the student preparing to leave middle school behind and begin a new chapter in high school.

When I finished reading it, I realized something that hadn’t occurred to me while I was grading.

The barbell wasn’t really saying goodbye.

The student was.

Yes, she was writing through the voice of a piece of equipment.

But beneath that fictional narrator was an authentic reflection about change, uncertainty, gratitude, and growing up.

That’s the moment I stopped seeing this assignment as simply a creative writing exercise.

It had become an opportunity for students to process experiences, communicate emotion, and discover that sometimes it’s easier to tell your own story when you’re pretending to tell someone else’s.

That kind of writing isn’t just creative.

It’s meaningful.

The first time I read it, I had to set the paper down for a moment. Revisiting it now as I write this blog, it still brings a tear to my eye.

As proud as I am of these assignments, they were never about creating clever stories or finding one more way to make students write in physical education. They were about giving students another avenue to think, reflect, communicate, and discover that their voice has value—even in a weight room.

Looking back, these moments have become some of my favorite memories from an unforgettable school year. More importantly, they remind me why this work continues to matter so much to me. Every story, every reflection, and every creative risk my students took became another reminder that literacy truly can belong in every learning environment.

As it turns out, I wasn’t the only one beginning to notice.

Sometimes You Don’t Realize You’re Standing in the Middle of the Story

A few weeks after the school year came to a close, I packed my bags for San Diego with the opportunity to share this work as a featured speaker at the AVID Summer Institute.

For those unfamiliar, AVID (Advancement Via Individual Determination) is an educational organization dedicated to helping schools create learning experiences that prepare every student for college, career, and life. Each summer, thousands of educators from across the country gather at the AVID Summer Institute to learn, collaborate, and return to their schools inspired for the year ahead.

Having the opportunity to contribute to that experience was both humbling and energizing.

When I first began reimagining what literacy could look like in physical education, I never imagined it would eventually lead me to a stage where I could share those ideas with educators from around the country.

Standing on that stage was certainly a highlight of the week, but what has stayed with me most happened after the speech.

The conversations in hallways.

The introductions from people who had heard the speech.

The emails.

The invitations to continue the conversation.

One of the greatest gifts of the conference was the opportunity to connect with educators from across the country. Every conversation seemed to spark another idea, another perspective, or another reminder that, regardless of the subject we teach, we’re all working toward the same goal: creating meaningful learning experiences for our students.

Those conversations quickly became meaningful relationships, exciting collaborations, and opportunities that I’m genuinely excited to continue exploring.

They also reminded me that some of the best professional learning doesn’t end when the speech does. It begins when educators leave the room, continue the conversation, and start imagining what those ideas could look like in their own classrooms.

As grateful as I am for everything that happened during the conference, it turns out the AVID Summer Institute wasn’t the end of this story.

It was the beginning of the next chapter.

Several exciting opportunities have already grown from that week, and while a few are still taking shape, I’m excited to share where this journey is headed next. Those updates will be coming very soon.

Ray Lewis.

Drew Brees.

Kevin Garnett.

When you hear names like these, what’s the first thing that comes to mind?

Legends?

Of course.

Hall of Famers?

Absolutely.

Champions?

Without question.

But there’s one more thing that immediately comes to mind whenever I think about each of them.

Their voice.

Every one of them had an incredible ability to command a huddle, rally a team, and captivate everyone fortunate enough to be watching from the stands. Before the opening whistle or the opening tip, they understood that leadership wasn’t just demonstrated through action—it was communicated through words.

They knew something that’s easy to overlook.

Words have power.

The right words can calm nerves.

Build confidence.

Create belief.

Inspire effort.

And sometimes, they can change the outcome of a game before the game has even begun.

That’s exactly what inspired one of my favorite literacy assessments, Voices of Victory.

In the assessment, students step into the role of a coach preparing to lead their team into a championship game. Their challenge isn’t simply to write a speech. It’s to craft a message that inspires confidence, builds belief, and rallies a group of teammates around a common purpose. In other words, they’re practicing the very communication skills that have made so many of sport’s greatest leaders unforgettable.

To help students prepare for that assessment, I developed an implementation tool called Huddle Hype Calls. It has become one of my favorite classroom routines because it demonstrates that literacy isn’t confined to reading and writing. Sometimes, the most powerful literacy practice happens when students stand in front of their peers and intentionally choose words that encourage, persuade, and inspire.

At its core, Huddle Hype Calls is incredibly simple.

Before select drills, scrimmages, or challenges, one student steps into the role of coach. Their job is to deliver a brief, 10–15 second motivational message to their teammates before the activity begins. It might be a reminder to stay disciplined, an encouragement to trust one another, or a challenge to finish strong. Whatever form it takes, the goal is the same: use words to elevate the people around you.

When the student finishes, their teammates respond with a class cheer, clap, or call-back before immediately beginning the activity.

That’s it.

The entire routine takes less than thirty seconds.

Now, before I continue, I know what some of you are probably thinking.

“Coach, this sounds like a fun way to get students fired up before an activity… but I thought we were talking about literacy.”

Fair question.

On the surface, Huddle Hype Calls look like nothing more than a quick pre-activity pep talk. But that’s only true if we allow them to stay there.

What makes this implementation tool so powerful is that it can grow alongside your students.

Maybe during the first week, the focus is simply building confidence as students practice encouraging one another with a few thoughtful words. That’s a great place to start. But as the routine becomes part of your classroom culture, you can begin intentionally layering in literacy without changing the activity itself.

Have students spend a few minutes at the beginning of each week drafting the Hype Call they’ll use if it’s their turn to lead. Encourage them to revise it after hearing classmates throughout the week.

From there, teachers can layer in one or more of the following strategies to deepen the literacy without changing the activity itself.

Introduce a Word of the Week and challenge students to naturally weave it into their message. Rather than choosing sport-specific vocabulary, select words that develop the kind of character we hope athletics helps build. For example, if the word of the week is resilience, students might remind their teammates, “Resilience isn’t about never getting knocked down—it’s about refusing to stay there.” Suddenly, vocabulary isn’t something students memorize for a quiz; it’s language they use with purpose.

Focus on one communication technique at a time—perhaps using repetition for emphasis, opening with a rhetorical question, or ending with a memorable call to action.

After each Hype Call, ask a teammate to identify the word or phrase that made the message most impactful.

Suddenly, what started as a thirty-second pregame ritual has become an opportunity for students to write, speak, listen, analyze language, expand their vocabulary, and think intentionally about the impact their words have on others.

The best part?

The activity itself hasn’t changed.

Only the depth of the learning has.

Earlier, I mentioned that Huddle Hype Calls has become one of my favorite classroom routines.

That isn’t just because of the literacy.

It’s because of what begins to happen between the students.

When every student is given opportunities to encourage, inspire, and lead their classmates, something starts to shift. Encouragement becomes expected. Positive communication becomes normal. Leadership is no longer reserved for the loudest voices or the strongest athletes—it becomes something every student has an opportunity to practice.

I saw that firsthand the very first time I implemented Huddle Hype Calls.

It was with a sixth-grade PE class at the beginning of the school year—a group of students walking into middle school carrying all the nerves, uncertainty, and excitement that naturally come with that transition. Some were eager for PE. Others weren’t quite sure what to expect.

Over the course of the semester, though, something changed.

The Hype Calls became more than a literacy routine.

They became part of our classroom culture.

Students expected to encourage one another.

They celebrated each other’s successes.

They believed every classmate deserved an opportunity to lead.

By the end of the semester, I don’t think it was a coincidence that many of those same students were genuinely disappointed that the class was coming to an end. In fact, all twenty-seven students signed a petition asking if they could stay together for seventh-grade PE… and beyond.

I’d love to tell you that Huddle Hype Calls deserve all the credit.

They don’t.

Great classroom communities are built through hundreds of intentional moments over the course of a school year.

But I do believe this implementation tool became one of those moments.

It strengthened students’ ability to communicate.

It strengthened their willingness to encourage one another.

And somewhere along the way, those two things began strengthening the classroom community itself.

If an implementation tool can strengthen students’ communication while simultaneously strengthening the community they’re learning in, I’d call that thirty seconds well spent.

When I first began reimagining what physical education could look like, I wasn’t trying to create a philosophy.

I simply had a vision.

I wanted my classroom to be a place where students didn’t just move.

They thought.

They reflected.

They communicated.

They created.

I wanted physical education to become a place where literacy wasn’t something students left behind when they walked into the gym—it was something that naturally existed alongside movement.

At first, that vision belonged only to my classroom.

Then something interesting happened.

The conversation began spreading beyond it.

It started with my own physical education colleagues as we explored what literacy could look like within our content area. Before long, those conversations expanded to the elective teachers in my own school as we collaborated around ways to make literacy feel authentic within each of our disciplines rather than something added on top of them.

As I continued sharing the work beyond my own school, the conversation evolved once again. Educational leaders and district administrators began asking a different kind of question. They weren’t just interested in what these strategies could do for physical education—they wanted to know how the same mindset could support teachers across every content area.

That’s when I realized this conversation had never really been about physical education.

It was about something much bigger.

While this work is rooted in my experiences teaching physical education and strength and conditioning, the philosophy behind it was never intended to stay there.

If these ideas could transform learning in a weight room…

…why couldn’t they transform learning anywhere?

That question eventually led me to four simple words that have come to define both my work and the conversations that continue to grow because of it.

Literacy in All Spaces.

Those four words represent far more than a title.

They represent a philosophy.

Every classroom already has authentic opportunities for students to read, write, speak, listen, think critically, and communicate.

The goal isn’t to force literacy into places where it doesn’t belong.

It’s to recognize the opportunities that already exist and intentionally help students engage with them.

One of the greatest privileges to come from this journey has been watching those opportunities continue to open new doors.

What began as a vision for my own classroom has grown into opportunities to collaborate with educators, instructional leaders, and districts who share the same belief: every content area has meaningful opportunities for students to think, communicate, and grow through literacy.

I am incredibly grateful for every educator who has reached out, every district that has welcomed me into the conversation, and every opportunity to continue learning alongside passionate educators who care deeply about helping students succeed.

Because of that continued encouragement, I’m excited to officially begin partnering with schools and districts through Literacy in All Spaces—a professional learning partnership centered on helping educators discover authentic, content-specific literacy opportunities within their own classrooms.

While this work will always be rooted in my experiences teaching physical education and strength and conditioning, the partnership itself isn’t about PE.

It’s about possibility.

It’s about helping educators recognize that literacy doesn’t compete with great teaching.

It strengthens it.

Interested in bringing Literacy in All Spaces to your school or district?

For inquiries regarding professional learning partnerships, please contact:

Dustin Woods

rigorousliteracyinpe@gmail.com

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So what’s next?

Long before I began sharing ideas about literacy, my journey as a physical educator began with a different question.

How do we teach strength and conditioning in a way that develops students’ minds just as intentionally as it develops their bodies?

That question was born out of my own passion for strength and conditioning.

As I began preparing to teach, I found myself looking beyond the exercises themselves and becoming fascinated by the educational opportunities the weight room presented. It wasn’t just a place where students could become stronger physically—it was a place where they could learn to think.

When I became a teacher, I wanted to build a program that reflected that belief.

From the very beginning, I believed rigor in the weight room had to mean more than simply making students sweat more.

I wanted to challenge students intellectually.

I wanted them to understand why they were training the way they were.

I wanted them making informed decisions instead of simply following directions.

I wanted them to leave my classroom capable of designing, evaluating, and taking ownership of their own training long after they walked out of my weight room for the last time.

Over the years, that philosophy has continued to evolve.

What began as a collection of ideas, lessons, and instructional strategies has gradually grown into a comprehensive instructional framework designed specifically for teaching strength and conditioning.

There’s still plenty of work to be done before it’s ready to share in its entirety, but I’m incredibly excited about where it’s headed and look forward to sharing more in the months ahead.

Autonomy by Design

A Framework for Building Independent Lifters Through Intentional Instruction

(Coming soon)

You wake up a little groggy.

Maybe your legs are still feeling yesterday’s demos. Maybe you’re just hoping that first cup of coffee does its job.

You go through the motions, slowly getting yourself ready for the day… and then you turn on the TV.

And there he is.

Already at full speed.

An analyst mid-rant, leaning forward, voice climbing, hands flying—delivering the hottest take of the day like it’s breaking news. You’ve seen it on ESPN, Fox Sports, Barstool—whether it’s First Take, Undisputed, or whatever show is dominating the timeline that day.

He’s not just sharing an opinion… he’s declaring it. Absolute confidence. Zero hesitation. This isn’t a discussion—it’s a verdict. Something bold enough, loud enough, and just ridiculous enough to grab your attention and carry the sports conversation for the next 48 hours.

And as over-the-top as it is… as dramatic, loud, and sometimes downright ridiculous as those moments can be…

There’s something else happening there that’s easy to overlook.

Because if you strip away the volume…

If you look past the theatrics…

What is that analyst actually doing?

They’re constructing a clear argument. They’re citing relevant evidence to support their claims. They’re analyzing and synthesizing information. They’re organizing ideas for clarity and impact and addressing counterarguments. They’re justifying their reasoning through structured communication.

In other words…

They’re doing exactly the kinds of thinking tasks we say we want students to do when we talk about literacy.

And nobody questions whether it “belongs” in sports.

Nobody stops and says,

“Why are they analyzing?”

“Why are they explaining?”

“Why are they defending their thinking?”

It’s just… part of the culture.

Expected. Valued. Celebrated, even.

And right there, we have something powerful.

A focal point of modern sports culture.

Something familiar.

Something students follow, quote, and argue about themselves.

And yeah… something that fits perfectly in a PE classroom.

⸻

When “Sports Talk” Becomes Something More

The Hot Take Podcast assessment might be one of the best examples of what I mean when I say literacy in PE doesn’t have to look like literacy.

It’s loud.

It’s performative.

It’s energetic.

And at first glance, it might even make you stop and ask,

“Wait… is this really literacy?”

That’s exactly why it works.

Some of the most effective assessments I’ve ever used in my classroom have one thing in common: they’re performative in nature. Students aren’t just completing a task—they’re stepping into a role. An analyst. A commentator. A personality.

And in today’s world, that matters.

The “sports analyst” isn’t just a TV role anymore—it’s a lane students recognize. Whether it’s ESPN, YouTube, TikTok, or podcasts, the idea of having a voice, sharing an opinion, and building an audience isn’t just entertaining… it’s aspirational.

This assessment taps directly into that.

Students grab a partner—or a small group—hit record, and argue away. They debate. They interrupt (respectfully… most of the time). They double down. They react.

And somewhere along the way, something important happens:

It stops feeling like an assignment… and starts feeling like a performance.

And when it comes to recording and editing, the barrier to entry is lower than ever. Tools like Adobe Podcast, along with other student-friendly platforms like GarageBand, WeVideo, or even simple voice memo apps, make it easy for students to capture and polish their work. Most of them require little to no prior experience, which means students can focus more on their ideas and delivery—and less on the tech side of things.

⸻

Where the Literacy Lives

Now here’s where it gets really interesting.

Because this isn’t just fun for the sake of fun. This isn’t just kids “talking sports.”

This is a literacy goldmine.

Let’s go back to those analysts.

What are they actually doing?

They’re making a claim, backing it up with evidence, analyzing what happened and explaining why it matters. They’re responding to opposing viewpoints. They’re defending their reasoning with confidence.

That’s high-level thinking.

That’s literacy.

And the best part?

Students don’t need to be convinced that it matters. They already believe it does.

There’s something about debate that just clicks for so many students. It feels authentic. It feels worthwhile. It feels like something they already do in the real world.

And once that buy-in is there…

Everything else gets easier.

And as a PE teacher, this is where it gets really fun. Because while they’re busy debating, arguing, and performing…

You’re sitting there thinking:

“Look what I just got them to do.”

⸻

And if you’re wondering what this actually sounds like in practice, it can be as simple as giving students a strong prompt and letting them run with it.

Questions like:

-What’s more important for winning: offense or defense?

-What is the “ultimate team sport,” and why?

-Which role is most important on a team? (What sport specific positions)

-What skill has the biggest impact on success in this sport?

-LeBron or Jordan — who’s the GOAT?

-Steph Curry: changed the game or ruined it?

Simple questions.

But the moment students start answering them, they’re building arguments, using evidence, and defending their thinking—just like the analysts they see every day.

Sneaking In the Rest (Without Killing the Vibe)

Here’s where this can go from a great activity… to a really powerful learning experience.

Because while the debate and podcast piece hits speaking and listening hard, there are plenty of opportunities to layer in other forms of literacy without changing the feel of the task.

You just have to be a little strategic.

For example, if students are building an argument, why not give them access to short texts, clips, or data points that support different sides of the claim?

From your perspective, you’re adding reading, analysis, and evidence-based reasoning.

From their perspective?

You’re giving them ammunition.

Same task. Different lens.

You can do the same thing with writing.

Instead of handing out a traditional worksheet that says:

“Write your claim here.”

“Cite your evidence here.”

…give them something that feels like prep.

A quick note sheet.

A debate board.

A “talking points” organizer.

Something that helps them capture their ideas, plan their responses, and organize their thinking before they hit record.

They’re writing.

They’re organizing.

They’re refining their thinking.

But it doesn’t feel like writing in PE.

That’s the difference.

⸻

The Hot Take Podcast is a simple way to turn sports conversations into meaningful learning.

Students take a position, support it with evidence, respond to opposing ideas, and communicate their thinking with purpose.

Over the last several months, I’ve been fortunate enough to spend a lot of time working directly with teachers—presenting at conferences, having conversations in hallways, even hopping on video calls to talk through this crazy little idea I’ve become pretty proud to champion.

And I’ll be honest…

When I first started this journey—not just pursuing academically rigorous PE in my own classroom, but encouraging others to do the same—I had a pretty good sense of what would land with people… and what wouldn’t.

There were ideas I felt confident the general population of physical educators would accept and appreciate.

And then there were others…

The ones I was convinced would get shut down immediately.

So it’s been incredibly encouraging—honestly, a little surprising—to see how many teachers have been open to this kind of work. At the very least, I’ve seen thoughtful, caring educators open their minds… and maybe more importantly, their hearts… to adding new tools and skill sets, all with the same goal: better serving their students.

The Concern That Keeps Coming Up

Out of all the conversations I’ve had, one concern shows up more than any other when we start talking about adding literacy and higher-level thinking into PE:

Grading.

And I’ll be honest again…

My initial reaction is usually to laugh.

That’s the thing holding you back?

But the more I’ve sat with it, the more I’ve come to understand it.

I’m not here to climb up on a soapbox about how hard teaching is—or compare one content area to another—but I do think it’s worth acknowledging something:

There is a physical element to teaching PE that most other content areas don’t carry in the same way.

For those of us who are truly teaching—moving, demonstrating, engaging, managing, coaching—the job is taxing. And I completely understand why the idea of going home to a stack of writing assignments feels overwhelming.

Especially when your brain immediately jumps to something like:

“Wait… am I grading this like an English teacher now?”

You start picturing yourself at your kitchen table at 9:47 PM…

Red pen in hand…

Rubric pulled up…

Looking for thesis statements, transitions, citations…

MLA format??

Like we didn’t all just learn that in college, memorize it long enough to pass a paper, and then immediately clear it from memory to make room for squat cues and warm-up routines.

That hesitation is real.

But here’s the good news:

It doesn’t have to be that complicated.

Let’s Paint the Picture:

You did it.

You gave your students a writing-based assessment.

And to your surprise… more than just your usual two or three “school-first” students actually turned something in.

Now here comes the moment of panic:

“I’m not an ELA teacher…”

You’re right.

And you’re not supposed to be.

Support Literacy… Don’t Become the ELA Department

This is one of the most important shifts to make:

Your job is not to teach literacy.

Your job is to support it.

That means giving students opportunities to practice the skills they’re learning in their ELA classes—through the lens of physical education.

And if the task is designed well, something powerful happens:

The literacy work they’re doing… is also working for you.

What You Actually Need to Look For

Let’s say your students wrote a creative piece about a volleyball match.

Yes—they were practicing writing.

But from your perspective as a PE teacher, the real question is:

Do they understand the vocabulary? (pass, set, hit) Do they understand when and why those skills are used? Can they accurately describe what’s happening in the game?

Or maybe it’s a basketball unit:

Do they understand when to shoot vs. pass? Can they explain spacing, timing, or decision-making?

That’s your lane.

And here’s the part I think a lot of teachers need to hear:

That doesn’t take four hours to assess.

You don’t need to become the grammar police.

You don’t need to break out MLA guidelines like it’s freshman comp.

You don’t need to sit there debating comma usage like your old college professor.

You gave them the opportunity to practice those skills.

Now you evaluate what matters for your classroom.

Did they use the vocabulary correctly? Did they demonstrate understanding of the skill or concept? Did their response show thought and effort?

If the answer is yes…

You did your job.

Final Thought

When we overcomplicate grading, we create barriers that don’t need to exist.

But when we simplify it—when we stay in our lane as physical educators—we unlock something powerful:

Students get to practice real academic skills…

in a space where they already feel comfortable and confident.

And in return, we get a clearer window into what they actually understand about movement, strategy, and performance.

That’s not extra work.

That’s better teaching.

First and foremost, thank you to everyone who attended my sessions at the SHAPE Utah Conference. I’m always grateful for the opportunity to collaborate with educators who are passionate about strengthening physical education and expanding what our classrooms can offer students.

One of the best parts of presenting is hearing how other teachers adapt ideas to fit their own schools, grade levels, and program goals. To help continue those conversations, I’ve included a brief recap of each session below along with the resources shared during the presentations.

Session 1

Literacy in Physical Education: Easier (and More Fun) Than You Think

One of the biggest misconceptions about literacy in PE is that teachers are expected to teach English Language Arts directly. In reality, our role is to support literacy by giving students opportunities to practice reading, writing, speaking, and thinking skills through the lens of physical activity.

When designed well, literacy doesn’t interrupt movement—it enhances understanding, engagement, and connection to the activity.

During this session we focused on three key ideas:

Supporting Literacy vs. Teaching Literacy

Physical educators don’t need to become ELA teachers. Instead, we create authentic opportunities for students to explain movement, analyze gameplay, communicate strategy, and reflect on performance.

Relevance Drives Engagement

Many literacy strategies in PE fall flat because they are only relevant to sports, not to students. When tasks don’t connect to the learner’s experience, literacy becomes an obstacle instead of a tool that supports activity.

Example Assessment: Courtside Commentary

A major focus of the session was an assessment called Courtside Commentary, where students step into the role of a sports commentator. They observe a basketball game or scrimmage and provide structured commentary explaining key moments and decisions in the game.

The activity keeps gameplay as the centerpiece while giving students opportunities to practice skills like:

• observation
• explanation
• analysis
• evidence-based reasoning
• sport communication

You can explore the full presentation slides here:

Implementation Tools for Courtside Commentary

Small supporting activities can expand the literacy impact of the assessment while helping students succeed during their commentary.

These tools can also serve as stand-alone literacy strategies, especially for elementary PE or shorter class periods.

Examples shared during the session included:

• Ball Talk – structured partner discussion about gameplay and decisions
• Habits People Have – identifying patterns in player behavior
• Sideline Signal Callers – using visual signals and terminology to communicate game moments
• The Announcer Effect – analyzing how commentary changes how we interpret a sports play

Additional Resource

During the session, we talked about the importance of moving beyond framing literacy in PE simply as “reading” and “writing,” and instead thinking about the literary actions we want students to perform—things like explaining, analyzing, citing evidence, identifying patterns, or communicating ideas.

While I didn’t dive deeply into this during the presentation, I’m including a resource here for those who want to explore that concept further. This document reframes literacy skills from an action-based perspective, showing the types of thinking students engage in when they read, write, and communicate.

The document is intentionally large and not meant to be read in one sitting. Instead, it’s designed as a reference tool that allows PE teachers to see what literacy standards look like when translated into clear, actionable classroom tasks. Each skill also includes an example of how it might appear in a physical education setting.

Session 2

Building Student Ownership in Strength and Conditioning

The second session explored how thoughtful program design can create safer, stronger, and more engaging strength and conditioning classes.

Rather than relying entirely on coach-designed workouts or giving students total freedom too early, this model focuses on structured autonomy—students earn independence after demonstrating knowledge, technique, and responsibility.

Key ideas from the session included:

The Autonomy Promise

Students are more motivated when they know they will eventually have the opportunity to train in ways that support their own athletic goals.

Non-Negotiables That Build Culture

Successful weight rooms establish clear expectations around safety, shared training language, and consistent effort.

Technique as the Gateway to Independence

Students learn four primary lifts through structured mini-units and pass-offs before incorporating them into independent training:

• Trap Bar Deadlift
• Traditional Deadlift
• Bench Press
• Squat

Calibrating Expectations

At the middle school level, the goal is not perfect technique but safe, repeatable movement patterns that high school programs can continue to develop.

Both sessions ultimately centered on the same idea:

Thoughtful design drives engagement.

Whether we’re building literacy opportunities in the gym or designing strength programs in the weight room, the most effective classrooms are those where students feel ownership, purpose, and connection to the work they are doing.

Thank you again to everyone who attended and contributed to the conversation.

Reflection is one of the first tools PE teachers turn to when they want to add literacy into their classes. And why wouldn’t we? It seems simple. It’s quick. It checks a box. It gives students a chance to process what they learned.

At least… that’s the idea.

But here’s the honest truth:

Most reflection prompts in PE don’t work the way we hope they will.

We picture students pausing, thinking deeply, self-assessing honestly, and making meaningful connections to their learning.

What we actually get?

“I did good.” “It was fun.” “I tried my best.” “We played basketball.”

Surface-level. Predictable. Rushed. And completely disconnected from the kind of meaningful reflection that strengthens movement, confidence, and skill development.

And it’s not because students can’t reflect.

It’s because the way we typically ask them to reflect simply doesn’t feel worth their time.

Students want reflection to feel personal.

They want it to feel connected to their actual physical and emotional experience.

They want it to feel like something real, not something mandatory.

And that’s where creative reflection changes everything.

Where Creative Reflection Changes Everything

Traditional reflections often fall flat because they ask students to talk about themselves in a way that feels forced, vague, or high-pressure. What many students really need is a reflective task that lowers the stakes, sparks curiosity, and still reveals what they learned.

That’s where one of my latest creative approaches to literacy in PE comes in.

Diary of a Ball

Instead of asking students to reflect directly on their performance, Diary of a Ball invites them to write from the perspective of the equipment they used in class.

It flips the task on its head — and suddenly, reflection becomes playful, imaginative, and surprisingly honest.

Students can write as anything:

-a basketball

-a volleyball

-a frisbee

-a barbell

-a jump rope

-anything they touched that day

This gives them a fresh, low-pressure lens to describe what actually happened. They’re no longer trying to evaluate themselves in an academic way. They’re narrating a story — one that just so happens to reveal their thinking.

Instead of staring at a blank page wondering what to say, they start imagining:

What did the ball “see” today? What mistakes would the equipment notice? What would it celebrate? What would it “wish” I’d try next time?

Here’s the magic:

When the equipment “speaks,” the student ends up giving an honest, thoughtful, and often beautifully reflective account of their own performance — without ever being asked to evaluate themselves directly.

Creative voice becomes the vehicle for real reflection.

And every so often, it sparks something even deeper.

A colleague of mine recently used this assessment to wrap up his basketball unit. One of his students — a kid known for avoiding learning in PE and relying almost entirely on natural ability — produced what my peer described as “a near essay.” A genuinely thoughtful, detailed effort from someone infamous for treating PE as “just move and be done.”

He wrote from the “voice” of the basketball, describing footwork, decision-making, missed cues, small victories, and even what the ball hoped he’d try differently next time.

It wasn’t compliance.

It wasn’t a bare-minimum attempt.

It was authentic reflection from a student who usually shuts that door completely.

Creative reflection made that possible.

Literacy Has Been in PE All Along

Physical education is already full of literacy — long before we ever bring in a writing prompt or a structured assessment. When students explain a drill to a partner, give feedback during stations, ask why a movement feels “off,” or talk through strategy after a game, they’re practicing the exact communication, sequencing, and analytical skills every other content area is trying to develop.

The key isn’t forcing literacy into PE.

It’s recognizing the literacy that’s already happening, naming it, and helping students see the thinking they’re already doing.

Because once you notice how naturally literacy shows up in PE — and how it strengthens movement, confidence, and classroom culture — everything shifts. Teachers start asking, “If this is already happening, what else can I do with it?” That’s when intentional literacy stops feeling like “one more thing” and starts feeling like something that actually helps students move, think, and learn better.

Where Student Energy Meets Purpose

PE has something unique that few other content areas can match: the instant connection and excitement most students bring with them the moment they walk through the door. But anyone who teaches PE knows that this energy can go one of two ways — it can scatter into chaos, or it can be channeled into something purposeful.

Purposeful movement doesn’t start with the movement itself.

It starts with understanding:

What am I trying to do? Why does it matter? How can I adjust?

That clarity doesn’t come from more drills — it comes from communication and reflection.

This is where literacy strengthens everything we care about in PE.

When students can describe what they see, explain what feels off, or give feedback to a partner, they’re not just talking — they’re sharpening the mental processes behind movement.

Clear language leads to clear execution.

If they can articulate a skill, they understand it more deeply — and that understanding improves performance.

That’s when everything changes:

Movement becomes sharper because they can name what needs to change. Decisions become quicker because they’ve practiced describing cues and strategies. Effort becomes more intentional because they know what they’re aiming for.

In PE, literacy isn’t separate from movement — it’s the cognitive engine that improves it.

The Assessment That Brings It All Together

All of this — the natural communication happening in PE, the connection between language and movement, and the clarity that comes from explaining what we see and feel — points to one big truth:

Some literacy-rich assessments feel intimidating to PE teachers… but others feel like they already belong in the gym.

Coach It Up! is one of those assessments.

It feels like an extension of what students already do: explaining, demonstrating, correcting, helping, and coaching one another. It’s a literacy-rich assessment that fits naturally into the rhythm of physical education, especially for teachers who are skeptical about adding “academic tasks” into an active space. Because in this assessment, literacy isn’t the extra part — literacy is what improves the skill itself.

It doesn’t feel like a writing assignment disguised as PE.

Students choose a skill — anything from dribbling to an overhand serve to squat form — and create a short tutorial teaching someone else how to do it. The beauty of this assessment is its flexibility: it can function as a unit summative assessment (focused on one of the skills learned in that specific unit) or as a class summative assessment (where students choose any skill they’ve learned throughout the course). The structure stays the same; the content shifts to meet your goals.

Students can submit a wide range of products for this assessment. I’ve had everything from videos to posters—even digital workbooks. You’d be surprised how students show up when they’re given a little creative flexibility.

To make their tutorial meaningful, students must identify essential steps, explain technique clearly, demonstrate proper form, anticipate and correct common mistakes, reflect on their own learning, and communicate with purpose.

It’s literacy rooted in movement — communication that strengthens performance rather than interrupting it.

And the best part is what happens internally. As students prepare to teach, they notice details they had skimmed over before. They connect concepts that were previously floating in the background. They begin to understand why their body moves a certain way and how to improve it.

Their physical performance improves because their cognitive processing improves.

For students who already love PE, this becomes a chance to refine their expertise and build their literacy skills.

For quieter students, this becomes a chance for their voice — and their thinking — to matter just as much as their athletic ability.

Coach It Up! turns movers into thinkers…and thinkers into better movers.

Tomorrow is the day.

My book releases in the morning. Just like I do about my work in the classroom, I’ve reflected a lot the last several days about the journey writing it has taken me on. 

I struggled in school. Honestly, “struggled” might be generous. I didn’t understand myself as a learner, I had no real academic self-awareness, and metacognition wasn’t even a word in my universe. I tried — I truly tried — but the traditional system never clicked for me.

Physical education didn’t feel any different at the time. It wasn’t a place where I found inspiration or clarity — it was just another class. Run, go, do. Show up, move, then move on. No one ever explained the “why.” No one pointed to the thinking, the strategy, the science beneath it. PE, to me, was just a place for activity.

I didn’t find the cognitive side of PE in a gym or classroom — I found it on my own. Curiosity eventually led me into exercise science, biomechanics, kinesiology… and something happened that I had never experienced in a classroom before. My brain didn’t just “light up” — it activated. Concepts clicked. Ideas connected. For the first time in my academic life, I didn’t feel like I was trying to catch up to learning — I felt like learning had finally met me where I was wired to understand it. I didn’t just feel interested; I felt capable. My mind wasn’t waking up because I suddenly “cared more,” it was waking up because I finally found a pathway that spoke my language.

I finally discovered a version of learning that recognized me.

That realization didn’t just change my path —

it shaped my purpose as a teacher.

I wanted to make sure my students didn’t have to wait as long as I did to feel seen academically. I wanted them to have the chance to discover their thinking, their voice, and their confidence within a space they already felt connected to.

Not by stopping movement, but by pairing it with reflection, communication, and expression in ways that feel natural, relevant, and authentic to PE.

That’s why this book exists.

That’s why this work matters to me.

It’s not about checking a literacy box during an observation.

It’s about giving students who identify with movement and sport the chance to discover who they are as learners, thinkers, and communicators — right here, in our content area.

Tomorrow, Rigorous Literacy in Physical Education goes live. The digital copy will be available, and the print release will follow shortly after.

If even one teacher reads this book and uses it to help a student find themselves sooner than I did, it will have been worth every late night, every draft, and every moment of doubt.

To the PE teachers who believe our space can unlock academic confidence —

I hope this adds fuel to your fire.