Slow Down School
By Jackie Wilber for SDPB’s Teacher Talk
Since I can remember, I’ve been reflecting on the pace of our schools. As a student, I could never finish my lunch in the allotted time; I couldn’t complete assignments during class; I wasn’t able to go to the bathroom between periods, or I would be late. I felt perpetually rushed.
Now as an educator, I still experience the constant need to hurry up, and it seems like everything is only accelerating. The days feel faster, the expectations higher, and the pressure heavier. We measure progress in test scores, rankings, and comparisons, but in the rush to “catch up,” I wonder: what are we leaving behind?
InWhat School Could Be, Ted Dintersmith argues that our obsession with standardized testing narrows the purpose of education and reinforces a message that students—and schools—are failing. Instead of cultivating curiosity, creativity, and resilience, we too often reduce learning to statistics rather than students. Dintersmith’s call is clear: we must reimagine schools as places where people thrive, not merely perform.
We don’t have to look far for models of what this could mean. Here in South Dakota, the Oceti Sakowin Essential Understandings remind us that education is not only about outcomes, but about relationships, identity, and community. Many Indigenous schools here emphasize storytelling, cultural grounding, and learning that unfolds at a natural pace. These classrooms are not rushed; they are rooted. They remind us that slowing down is not a weakness, but a strength.
Internationally, Finland is often cited for its slower, more humane approach to schooling —shorter days, later start to formal education, and fewer standardized tests. I experienced firsthand the calm in a classroom that comes from this slower pace when I visited Finnish schools in May 2024 with my colleagues at USD and the Vermillion School District. But the philosophy is not uniquely Finnish. Schools in Denmark, Norway, and the Netherlands protect recess, emphasize play, prioritize project-based learning, and trust teachers to guide students without constant measurement.
This idea of slowing down is not limited to education. The Slow Food movement began in Italy as a response to fast food culture, reclaiming the value of meals prepared with care. In librarianship, the Slow Librarianship movement emphasizes depth, reflection, and meaningful engagement over speed and volume. These movements share a common thread: slowing down allows us to focus on quality over quantity, people before profit margins, and experiences instead of outcomes.
What if schools embraced this same philosophy? What if we protected time for reflection, for play, for deep inquiry? What if we trusted teachers to lead with compassion rather than compliance? What if we measured success not by the height of students’ scores, but by the depth of their learning?
At the University of South Dakota, we are preparing future educators to ask these questions. We are exploring how to design classrooms that breathe, that honor the humanity of students and teachers alike, and that resist the relentless push to accelerate.
Slowing down doesn’t mean lowering expectations. It means redefining them. It means creating space for curiosity, for mastery, and for joy. It means remembering that education is not a race — it is a journey.
The views and opinions expressed on SDPB’s Teacher Talk are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of South Dakota.
