The Trajectory

There is a question every teacher eventually faces, whether they name it or not: What is this actually for?

Students often ask, “Will I ever need this?” and we respond by pointing to the present, connecting content to their lives and making it feel timely and immediate. Sometimes we can say why it matters today. The harder question, though, is why it will matter in twenty years. Current relevance matters, but it is only a starting point. It becomes a problem when it is the only justification we offer.

Teaching is more than the relevance of a subject in the moment. It is about trajectory: where the content takes students and what it is meant to develop in them. A lesson can be relevant and a unit can be engaging, yet still leave students no more capable of thinking, analyzing, questioning, or persevering than when they walked through the classroom door.

Trajectory asks the harder question: Twenty years from now, what will this have done in them?

I believe stories change people. I also believe teachers change the conditions under which stories and lessons can land. That conviction shapes every lesson I design, every text I select, every question I ask. When I plan, I think not only about what students need to know, but about why it should matter to them now and later. I want engagement that produces real retention and growth.

Doing that requires understanding more than content. It requires understanding people: how the brain develops, how students regulate emotionally and physically, when to push and when to pull back. Strong classroom systems are not about control. They are about making genuine growth possible, releasing responsibility to students rather than hoarding it. The goal is always a student who is more capable, more curious, and more confident at the end of the year than at the beginning.

None of this happens quickly.

Teaching toward trajectory means accepting that the most important growth is often not visible yet. We plant seeds that will not flower for years. We set trajectories toward destinations we may never see.

Scripture tells us that we plant, we water, and God gives the growth. There is freedom in that.

The teacher’s job is faithfulness to the work, not control of the outcome.

Plant well.

Water consistently.

Trust God with the growth.

 I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth. So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth. (1 Corinthians 3:6–7, ESV)