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Escaping the “Inquiry vs. Direct Instruction” Debate
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

If you’d like to stir up a feisty argument at your next faculty meeting, lob out a casual observation about direct instruction.

Almost certainly, you’ll hear impassioned champions (“only direct instruction leads to comprehension”) and detractors (“students must construct their own understandings”) launch into battle.

For Example…

Back in September, I reviewed two studies contrasting these approaches.

One study, looking at science instruction with 4th graders, found that direct instruction led to more learning. The second study argued for a constructivist approach — yet lacked a remotely plausible control group.

So, in that post at least, it made sense to tell students what experts had already concluded.

One Study, Two Perspectives

I’ve found another study that helpfully reopens this debate.

Daniel Schwartz and colleagues helped 8th grade science students understand concepts like density, speed, and surface pressure.

Crucially, all these concepts share an underlying “deep structure”: ratio.

That is: “speed” is distance divided by time. “Density” is mass divided by volume.

Schwartz wanted to see if students learned each concept (density, spring constant) AND the underlying deep structure (ratio).

Half of the 8th graders in this study heard a brief lecture about each concept — and about the underlying structure they shared. They had a chance to practice the formulas they learn.

That is: this “tell and practice” paradigm is one kind of direct instruction.

The rest of the 8th graders were given several related problems to solve, and asked to figure out how best to do so.

This “invent with contrasting cases” paradigm enacts constructivist principles.

Findings, and Conclusions

Schwartz and Co. found that both groups learned to solve word problems equally well.

However — crucially — the contrasting cases method led to deeper conceptual understanding.

When this group of students were given a new kind of ratio to figure out, they recognized the pattern more quickly and solved problems more accurately.

So, the obvious conclusion: constructivist teaching is better. Right?

Not so fast. Schwartz’s study includes this remarkable pair of sentences:

“There are different types of learning that range from skill acquisition to identity formation, and it seems unlikely that a single pedagogy or psychological mechanism will prove optimal for all types of learning.

Inventing with contrasting cases is one among many possible ways to support students in learning deep structure.”

That is: in this very particular set of circumstances, a constructivist approach helped these students learn this concept — at least, in the way it was tested.

What Next?

If the purists have it wrong — if both direct instruction and constructivist pedagogies might have appropriate uses — what’s a teacher to do?

Schwartz himself suggests that different approaches make sense for different kinds of learning.

For instance, he wonders if direct instruction helps learn complex procedures, whereas constructivist methods help with deep structures (like ratio).

Perhaps, instead, the essential question is the level of difficulty. We have lots of research that says the appropriate level of cognitive challenge enhances learning.

So: perhaps the “tell and practice” method of this study was just too easy; only a more open-ended investigation required enough mental effort.

However, perhaps the study with the 4th graders (mentioned above) included a higher base level of conceptual difficulty. In that case, hypothetically, direct instruction allowed for enough mental work, whereas the inquiry method demanded too much.

Two Conclusions

First: the right pedagogical approach depends on many variables — including the content to be learned. We teachers should learn about the strengths and weaknesses of various approaches, but only we can decide what will work best for these students and this material on this day.

Second: purists who insist that we must always follow one (and ONLY one) pedagogy are almost certainly wrong.

Unambiguously Good News about Teens and Sleep
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

You read that right. I mean: it’s really good news about teens and sleep.

We all want adolescents to sleep more. Better said, we know that they need to sleep more.

teens and sleep

More sleep should benefit, say, their mental health, their physical health, and their academic performance.

Heck, they should just feel better.

One Obvious Solution

If teens’ biology prompts them to stay awake later and wake up later (it does), then we could help adolescents sleep more by starting high school later.

Although obvious, that solution has two important flaws:

First: we haven’t tested its efficacy.

Second: teens might just stay up later, and thereby rob themselves of the extra sleep we’re trying to provide. We just don’t know. (See previous paragraph.)

Here’s the first part of unambiguously good news: researchers have now tested the solution.

The city of Seattle, Washington delayed high school start times from 7:50 am to 8:45 am. Researchers measured lots of student behaviors both before and after that change. What did they find?

Teens and Sleep: Obvious Solutions Work!

First: students slept more. They got, on average, 34 minutes of extra sleep: from 6 hours 50 minutes to 7 hours and 24 minutes.

Second: they got higher grades. The average among measured students rose from 77.5% to 82%.

(The researchers hesitate to make strong causal claims; something else might account for the better grades. But, it’s a highly plausible hypothesis that extra sleep helped them learn more.)

Third: at one of the two high schools, first-period absences fell. (At the second, the absence rate remained constant.)

The researchers don’t make a strong argument about the reason for this difference. They do note, however, that the improving school has a higher percentage of economically disadvantaged students. Perhaps the combination of early start times and low SES made on-time arrival especially challenging.

Methodology

Part of the unambiguously good news: this study boasts particularly strong methodology.

In particular, it doesn’t rely on student self-reports — as so many sleep studies do. Instead, it asked students to wear a wrist monitor that tracked their activity levels.

Also, it took both pre- and post-change measurements. That is: they didn’t wait until after the change and then start measuring. Instead, they got a solid baseline, and then compared the after-effects to that baseline.

A final note: this article says that other school districts — and even states — are contemplating similar changes. Here’s hoping they follow through. And, here’s hoping that parents support these changes.

When Multitasking Helps (And Why Teachers Should Discourage It Anyway)
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

We all know that multitasking is baaaaad.

In fact, we all know that multitasking doesn’t happen. Instead, when we think we’re multitasking, we’re actually switching rapidly back and forth between two tasks. (Or, heaven help us, more than two tasks.)

multitasking

If either of those two tasks is cognitively complex, this rapid task switching imperils performance.

So, to repeat: multitasking is baaaaad.

Surprising New Research…

But what if, under unusual circumstances, it were beneficial?

More precisely, what if the perception that I’m multitasking improves my performance.

Here’s how you might test such a question (especially if your name were Shalena Srna):

Ask two groups of students to transcribe a Shark Week video.

Tell half of them that they’re doing two things: learning by watching, and also transcribing.

Tell the other half that they’re doing one thing: learning by watching and transcribing.

In other words, both groups of students do the same thing. But: one group thinks they’re multitasking, and the other doesn’t.

Sure enough, in this study, students who thought they were multitasking did better. They wrote more words, and they remembered more of the video.

Wow.

Curiouser and Curiouser

Srna and company didn’t stop there. They kept testing their hypothesis.

In another study, they asked students take a virtual art-museum tour. They told half of them that this required distinct tasks (listening and looking); the other half didn’t get that instruction.

Same results.

In another version, they had participants solve two kinds of puzzles simultaneously: word searches and anagrams. Rather than tell half that the puzzles required dual-tasking (or not), they asked participants what they thought.

Here again, those who spontaneously thought they were multitasking did better on the puzzles than those who didn’t – even though they were all doing the same task.

In Search of an Explanation

This result, to put it mildly, seems bizarre. If multitasking makes me worse at something, why would believing that I’m multitasking make me better?

Srna & Co. suggest one plausible explanation. If I think I’m multitasking, then I might concentrate harder on the task.

To test their hypothesis, they measured participants’ pupil dilation when they did (or didn’t) think they were multitasking. (We’ve got good research showing that people who are more engaged in material have greater dilation.)

Sure enough, people who believed they were multitasking had bigger pupils than those who did not.

In fact, they rated themselves as less bored by the work they were doing.

Teaching Implications

This research strikes me as a) fascinating, b) thorough and thoughtful, and c) a smidge dangerous.

Here’s what I mean.

Given these (highly persuasive) studies, we might be tempted to tell our students that they’re multitasking when they’re not – because their extra level of concentration will improve their learning.

Alas, such a response would mistake research benefits for school benefits.

In this case, if we tell our students that they’re multitasking, good things might happen in the short term. However, in the long-term, they get the message that we think it’s okay.

But, it isn’t. Rapid task switching reduces learning. It really does.

In fact, students get counter-productive, pro-switching messages all the time. We need to work against this cultural programming.

(One key strategy: they should see us conspicuously refusing to multitask. Hard-core monotasking adults are great role models.)

Reality Check

Srna and Co. begin their article with some amazing statistics. According to their survey, 84% of people think they’re better-than-average multitaskers. In fact, almost 50% say they’re tops in the field.

Rather than use students’ false beliefs to help them today, we should correct their beliefs to help them for a lifetime.

Brain Research in Translation
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

Science relies on skepticism, so let’s ask a skeptical question:

“Does it really benefit teachers to understand brain research? Isn’t good teaching good teaching?”

If you’re reading this blog, you doubtless already see the value that brain research offers teachers.

The more we know about — say — motivation, or “the spacing effect,” or the benefits of interleaving, or the perils of “catastrophic failure,” the better our work can be.

But, I think there’s more.

The more time I spend in this field, the more I see benefits for school communities and even international collaboration.

Uniting Schools with Common Language

I once spent the day working at a K-12 school in Texas. At the lunch break, a teacher approached me and said:

“I’m so impressed you know all our names! I’ve worked here for years, and I don’t know the names of the high-school teachers. After all, I teach in the lower school.”

This confession speaks a larger truth: we can all-too-easily fall in the habit of talking only with our nearest peers.

3rd grade teachers confer with other 3rd grade teachers. High-school English teachers huddle up with high-school English teachers. (I should know; I’m a high-school English teacher.)

This habit makes some sense. I don’t really know how my lesson-plan for Their Eyes Were Watching God would translate to, say, a first grade classroom. What teaching topics might cross so wide a curricular gulf?

The answer: brain research.

A strategy I use to manage working memory overload for 10th graders might transfer quite easily to a 3rd grade classroom. At a minimum, the benefits of that strategy will be immediately clear to anyone who understands the importance of working memory.

When all teachers in a school know the languages of neuroscience and psychology, we can talk about our work more deeply, meaningfully, and effectively with colleagues in other grades and other disciplines.

Uniting Countries with Common Language

I spent the last two weeks in Japan, working with Fukuoka International School and the American School in Japan. In Fukuoka, I worked with teachers from about a dozen countries: the US, Canada, and Japan — and also China, Korea, Vietnam, Thailand, the Philippines, Australia … even Myanmar.

As you can imagine, these countries have dramatically different educational systems, philosophies, cultural expectations, and curricula. What shared language might these teachers find?

Here again, these teachers were amazed to see how quickly they could share teaching strategies — once they could describe them in this new way.

A game for retrieval practice, for instance, might be used with different topics in different countries. Heck, it might take place in various languages with incompatible alphabets.

But the core psychological practice remains the same, no matter the curricular or linguistic translations.

In two sentences…

I joined the Mind, Brain, & Education movement because I thought it would help make me a better teacher. Every day I see more clearly: it can make all of us — schools, districts, even international communities — a better education system.

“We Can No Longer Ignore Evidence about Human Development”
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

The more teachers learn about neuroscience and psychology, the more we admire Dr. Mary Helen Immordino-Yang.

Unlike most researchers, she has spent time as a classroom teacher.

And, her extensive research—in both neuroscience and psychology—offers us wise perspectives on our craft.

For instance, she has zealously emphasized the inextricable connection between emotion and cognition—although we live in a society that wants to keep the two apart. As she has shown in her books and articles, we can’t think deeply about thinking without understanding the importance of feelings.

Thinking and feeling aren’t two different things. They’re names for distinct perspectives on the same thing.

(You can check out her essay in Mind, Brain, & Education: Neuroscience Implications for the Classroom, edited by David Sousa.)

More recently, working with Linda Darling-Hammond and Christina Krone, Dr. Immordino-Yang has published a lucid and practical summary of our field. In 20 jargon-free pages, she makes a strong case for focusing on development as an essential variable in schools and in learning.

You can download The Brain Basis for Integrated Social, Emotional, and Academic Development here.

That’s a mouthful of a title. But it synthesizes an impressive range of complex and vital topics: age-appropriate teaching strategies, neural development across the lifespan, epigenetics, even cultural well-being.

As an introduction to The Brain Basis, I interviewed Dr. Immordino-Yang. This transcript is edited for clarity and brevity.


Andrew:

You’ve packed a lot of information into this document. What’s your goal in putting it all together this way?

Mary Helen:

I wanted to tell a story about what it means to be a human being.

From there I thought we could think back to retrofit what are we doing in schools to support the development of our full humanity.

And so I aimed to tell a story of many fields—of biological, genetic, developmental, and cognitive research that would help people understand why human development and learning are so closely tied together.

Schools really can no longer ignore the new evidence about human development in thinking about our aims and our strategies in educational environments.

Andrew:

A big chunk of this brief talks about different developmental stages, and the appropriate educational strategies to use during each one.

Where you get the most pushback? What are people most surprised about?

Mary Helen:

One of the things that people have been very surprised about, and where I get a lot of pushback, is in adolescence. I talk about adolescence being a fundamental time of plasticity—but also of vulnerability.

And this means that teenagers really need deeply supported opportunities to explore alternate identities: scholarly ways of thinking and being, social ways of thinking and being.

This is a time when kids can develop very deep interests, and connect those interests to their world—how it is now, how it has been in the past, and how it could be different in the future– like they never have been able to do before to the same extent.

Schooling needs to capitalize on that. Yet we really do not in the way that standard schools are designed. In fact we directly undermine that kind of agency, that kind of exploration of self and ideas that’s just fundamental to adolescence.

Andrew:

In schools, I’m guessing that would mean more electives, fewer requirements. You’d like more open-ended, freeform opportunities for high school students?

Mary Helen:

Well, yes. But all that in the context of very strategic support and close relationships, in addition to intellectual and social opportunities to really get invested in important work: more like an apprenticeship model of schooling in adolescence, as compared to a didactic transfer model.

There are schools doing this extremely well. They tend to be schools built for kids one step away from failing out of society, though.

For example: The New York Performance Consortium Schools got special dispensations to not have standardized testing. Instead they do performance-based portfolio work as a graduation requirement.

These students were mostly at risk of failing [in their prior schools]. And then lo and behold, when you redesign their educational experience so it’s more of this apprenticeship model—students focus on broad, relevant problems—they begin to think in scholarly ways. They develop deep understanding and explore innovative solutions.

These kids go on to college at far higher rates. They’re graduating college. They’re just ever so much more engaged than their peers.

We’ve got this misunderstanding that when kids are doing poorly and flailing around, you want to double down on discipline. You want to straighten them out and get them on the straight and narrow. Control them first, and then you can teach them.

In fact what you need to do is offer them opportunities to really utilize the energy that they have, and to question and rethink their ideals, to build their deep desire for inventing themselves. And give them a creative, scholarly, structured outlet in which to productively explore that.

Andrew:

And, as you say, that makes a lot of developmental sense.

Let’s change gears. This document talks about three essential brain networks: the Executive Control Network, the Default Mode, and the Salience Network.

This is essentially a neuroscientific way of thinking about learning.

Another approach is the psychological approach: let’s think about motivation, let’s think about attention, let’s think about working memory.

When you talk with teachers about this neuroscientific approach, does it deepen their understanding of the psychological framework? Does it conflict with it? Does it confuse it?

Mary Helen:

I think it really does [deepen their understanding]. I hope it does. My aim was to teach educators about the dominant models of brain development right now.

There are hundreds and hundreds of studies demonstrating how these networks work. And those networks had really not been explained to educators to this point.

What you notice about them is: none of them is emotional or cognitive. These networks are both [emotional and cognitive] all the time. No one of them is the social network. They all have a role to play in sociality.

Andrew:

In the past you’ve written that there’s relatively little neuroscience that teachers need to know. So this approach is quite a change for you.

Mary Helen:

Well, not really. What I really think people do need to know is about human development. And one of the sources of evidence is neural development.

Understanding the basic functionality of the [neural] system is important for supporting the development of the person.

And don’t get me wrong: in some of the best schools in the world the teachers don’t know diddly squat about brain development.

But they really, really understand what their aim is for their students. They know in a deep way about the kinds of thinking and relating and reflection that they want their students to be capable of.

And in that case you don’t need the neuroscience anymore.

I think we need it in the United States because we have such a faulty model of how learners learn, and what to do when they’re not doing as well as we would like.

I’ve written several papers about the default mode network for example. We in education are potentially undermining the development of deep thinking, deep understanding, deep integration of content because of our overly task-oriented focus.

We shift people into an outwardly directed task-oriented state too much at the expense of reflection and synthesis that happens internally in a narrative constructive process.

Andrew:

So much of our vision of good teaching is a kind of a performance. It’s external, it’s what the students are doing.

Mary Helen:

That’s right. It’s about what you do, it’s not about how you think. And good thinking takes time. It takes skills for reflecting. Those skills are often neglected in our schools.

We have this kind of “frantic productivity model” which is basically a lie about what meaningful accomplishments students are actually accomplishing.

Andrew:

The “frantic productivity model” sounds a lot like schools where I’ve worked.

American education has been battling between constructivism—“inquiry-based” and “project-based learning”—on the one hand, and direct instruction on the other.

Your brief is calling for a truce. You say that these approaches can work well together, and we’re looking for a wise balance.

My question is: as a teacher how do I know when I’ve gotten that balance right? What does that feel like? What does it look like?

Mary Helen:

Yeah, great question.

So here’s the thing: this is where the teaching skill comes in.

And what skill do you need to have? What teaching artistry do you need to have? You need to deeply understand your students, and deeply understand your aim for them.

What’s your intent in the lesson?

Too much of what we do in education is designed around an outcome—a “learning outcome.”

Instead, it should be designed around this question: what are the kinds of mental capacities and habits of minds that students will be practicing?

To balance constructivism with direct instruction, think about the how much more than the endpoint. And then the answer will look really different in different contexts: different kids, different content, different supports and scaffolds, at different times.


At this point, our conversation turned to a description of a specific school focusing exactly on these complex questions and difficult choices.

That discussion was so interesting that it deserves its own blog post. I’ll have that live for you within the month.

Why Do Choices Interfere with Your Learning?
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

Perhaps you’ve heard of the famous experiment.

If you give shoppers many jam choices to sample, they’re delighted to taste your wares. But, if you give them fewer choices, they’re more likely to — ahem — buy some jam.

choices harm learning

In other words: choices both motivate and demotive in a complex pattern.

What effect might this finding have on education?

Choices Overwhelm Brains? Choices Harm Learning?

In a recent study, Elena Reutskaja and colleagues explored the neural basis of this intriguing finding.

They gave study participants choices about the image to be printed on a tee-shirt or mug. Crucially, some got a few choices: 6. Others got more choices: 12. And others got A LOT more: 24.

What happened in participants’ brains?

The short version: two crucial brain regions behaved differently with 12 choices.

The anterior cingulate cortex (ACC) and the striatum showed more activity when given a manageable number of choices than when they had too many or too few.

By the way: the prefrontal cortex showed a similar pattern, but to a smaller degree.

(Important wonky caveat: more brain activity ISN’T always better. In this case, more activity in these regions coincided with self-reports of greater pleasure.

In other cases — say, dyslexia — more brain activity coincides with lots of reading difficulty.)

These results mean that we’ve got two reasons to think too many choices are bad.

Firstbehaviorally, people react badly with too many choices. (If you try to navigate the toothpaste section of your local CVS, you know what I mean.)

Secondneurobiologically, brains react badly with too many choices.

In other words, those people running the behavior experiments weren’t making things up or misreading the data. Instead, they identified real problems.

Teaching Implications

We might reasonably start with the presumption that choices enhance learning. The more that our students get to choose what they’re doing, the more intrinsically motivated they will be.

However, as we see more and more studies like this one we realize that — just possibly — choices harm learning. Faced with more options than they can readily process, students feel their ACC shut down.

The result: not more learning and motivation, but less.

What, then, is the perfect number of choices?

One answer is: the authors suggest between 8 and 15.

A much better answer: honestly, research really can’t answer that question.

In the first place, they’re currently doing research with consumers getting choices to buy stuff. That’s not the situation our students are in.

In the second place, this research pool works with adults. Almost certainly, younger students can manage fewer choices than older students — who manage fewer than adults.

In the third place, the “choices” that students make vary in complexity. If I have to define 5 of 6 vocabulary words, that’s a straightforward process.

If, however, I have to solve 5 of 6 calculus problems, then I’m likely to start the early steps of solving each one to test out their trickiness.

In this case, I’ve got A LOT more info rattling around in working memory, even thought the number of choices has remained the same.

In other words, the correct number varies from case to case to case. As is so often true, you — the classroom teacher — will have the best vantage point from which to suss out the answer.

 

US vs UK: Edutwitter Styles
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

If you follow education debates on Twitter, you may have noticed stark differences in tone between your US and UK colleagues.

Blake Harvard recently posted on these differences — trying to understand and explain them.

He ultimately prefers the UK approach, although it can be rough-and-tumble for American tastes.

He also has recommendations for changing American EduTwitter:

Admit ignorance and ask questions…I constantly inquire with those who know more than me to learn more.  I’ve never been turned away or treated rudely for asking. If someone does act less than friendly for being asked to clarify or elaborate, they probably aren’t too sure of their own beliefs or need to be avoided anyway.

I encourage you to read the entire post.

10,000 People Talk About Sleep and Cognition
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

Most of the research studies I read include a few tens of people. Sixty or eighty is good; more than 100 is rare. I’ve seen published studies with an even dozen.

sleep and cognition

So when I hear about a study with over 10,000 participants, I sit up and take notice.

In this case, researchers in Canada asked people to fill out online surveys about sleep, and to take cognitive tests. Given their astonishing data pool, they can reach firm conclusions about the questions they’ve asked.

Sleep and Cognition: Firm Conclusions

Some of these conclusions will sound quite predictable. Others will surprise you. They certainly surprised me.

First, if you want optimal cognitive function, roughly 7-8 hours of sleep gives you the best results. (Assuming that “you” are an average person. Of course, not everyone is average.)

Second, that number doesn’t change with age. (See below for an important caveat.) That is: 30-year-olds and 80-year-olds think best with the same amount of sleep.

Third, too much sleep muddles cognition as much as too little sleep. As someone who likes sleeping, I’m sorry to say this but: the graphs don’t lie.

Fourth, non-optimal sleep doesn’t harm short-term memory. Researchers tested short-term memory with the “spatial span task.” Participants had to remember which boxes flashed green, and press them in the same order. Here’s an example:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zWO_w3m4NQs

Instead, non-optimal sleep fuddles reasoning skills (like executive function and deductive reasoning) and verbal skills (like verbal working memory).

Of course, school requires A LOT of reasoning and verbal skill. No wonder sleep-deprived (or sleep-surfeited) students struggle.

(By the way, fifth, 48.9% of the participants didn’t get enough sleep.)

And, sixtha good night of sleep really does help. That is: people who got even one good night’s sleep before the test saw a measurable uptick in their cognitive performance.

Caveats

From a researcher’s standpoint, it’s important to note that this team didn’t draw on a random sample. These participants volunteered by coming to a particular website.

And, all of the data here come from self-report. People could be deceiving the researchers. They could also be deceiving themselves.

From a teacher’s standpoint, we should note the age cut-off for this study: 18 years. K-12 students might see similar patterns. That is: their short-term memory might be fine after low-sleep nights, while their reasoning and verbal skills suffer.

Or, entirely plausibly, younger people might see different effects. We just don’t know.

A Final Note

In my experience as a high-school teacher, my colleagues (and I) experienced sleep deprivation as much as our students did.

We should, of course, encourage our students to get enough sleep. (We should also schedule the class day to fit our students’ sleep cycles.)

Now that we’ve seen this research into the connection between sleep and cognition, we should also take better care of ourselves.

Choosing a Knowledge-Rich Curriculum: Pros and Cons
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

Should our curriculum focus on knowledge or skills?

Jon Brunskill debates this question with himself in this thoughtful post.

Brunskill does offer a strong conclusion in this debate. But just as important: the way he frames the discussion.

Following Rapoport’s Rules to Promote Civil Discourse (which I haven’t heard of before), Brunskill sets himself several tasks.

First, he summarizes the opposite belief as accurately and fairly as he can. (The goal, according to Daniel Dennett, is that the other person say “Thanks, I wish I’d thought of putting it that way.”)

Second, he notes his points of agreement with that position, and (third) what he has learned while thinking about it.

Only then, fourthdoes he get to express his disagreement, and advocate for a distinct point of view.

(By the way: you haven’t accidentally skipped a paragraph. I’ve deliberately not said what his conclusion is, because I want to focus on his methodology.)

The Takeaway

You might agree with Brunskill’s conclusion. Or, you might emphatically disagree with it.

If the latter, great news! You have an opportunity to follow his example.

How might you summarize his position as fairly as possible?

What do you agree with?

What did you learn?

Once you’ve answered those questions, then your rebuttal will be more persuasive, and more beneficial to the debate. I suspect it will also be more beneficial to you.