When I was in high school, my 10th-grade English teacher at Edward R. Murrow, Lou Frederick, changed the way I perceived the world. It felt almost as if the bubble I was living in popped and the thoughts that arose through our analysis of literature and life were limitless. As creative and unorthodox our class’ opinions on the literature might have been, he made us feel that we contributed toward the collective deeper understanding of the text.

Frederick did this through a system called the “Deep Board,” which captured our interests while doubling as a tool of positive reinforcement for our deep thoughts. His thoughtful questioning combined with the Deep Board enhanced his classroom instruction and encouraged a model of reflective processes in students.

Today, the Deep Board is the key tool I use to unlock some of my students’ full potential in my high school English courses at Brooklyn College Academy. As students become accustomed to the Deep Board and discussions, we establish a community of learners with the understanding that all students have the ability to enhance (or deepen) each other’s thoughts.

The Deep Board is drawn on the chalkboard in my classroom in three wavy lines from top to bottom, which are meant to represent the ocean. Students understand the Deep Board as a challenging game where the objective is to reach as deep into the ocean as possible, and their reward is as simple as drawing themselves with different colored chalk. If the students analyze something profoundly (exposing something eye-opening or a connection in relation to the essential question we are discussing), I genuinely and excitedly shout “DEEP! Go up,” in a fashion very similar to the way Frederick did in my adolescence.

This represents a “deep point,” where students go up to the board and draw themselves in the first wave using their own creative expression — usually a stick figure of themselves or an item that symbolizes who they are.

When students make the first wave, they are highly motivated to dig deeper, which is reflected in their increased participation guided by the friendly and positive competitive atmosphere. As they continue to participate, they draw themselves “deeper” into the three waves of the ocean.

If a student surpasses the third ocean wave, they draw themselves on a piece of paper and become part of a designated “Wall of Fame” in my classroom for the remainder of the school year. During the last days of classroom instruction, they receive a “Deep Thinker” certificate accompanied by a plastic toy fish of their choosing for (metaphorically speaking) swimming with the deep ocean fish — a prize similar to the one once given to me as a student in Frederick’s 10th-grade course.

There are multiple reasons for the success of the Deep Board, but the fundamental theory behind it is quite simply positive reinforcement. As clichéd as this might seem, students of all ages love to be rewarded with recognition of their accomplishments. Too often we are blinded by what our students are doing wrong. It’s easy to neglect to acknowledge what students are doing right. We need to continue to challenge ourselves to inspire our students through positive reinforcement.

My experiences as a teacher have taught me that certain aspects of teaching benefit from creativity, but we should not forget that some of our best teaching practices spring from simple ideas. Our job as educators is more akin to an artistry that cannot be mastered, but can be continuously refined by zooming out and taking in the bigger picture. Even though the Deep Board is a go-to tool I use as the foundation of my classroom teaching, I continuously challenge myself to stimulate learning in other creative ways as well.

Today, Lou Frederick continues to inspire me as a friend and teaching mentor. We have spoken about our proudest and most powerful moments as teachers. For me, one occurred when one of my students offered her reflections of my class in a Christmas card. “Thank you for changing the way I perceive the world,” she wrote. I saw my adolescent self in her words.