This month’s issue arrives in the midst of holiday preparation. My social media and search engine algorithm has been serving me all kinds of ideas for holiday crafts over the last few weeks—how to recycle paper bags into handmade decorations, suggestions for easy and personalized gifts kids can make for their family members, and of course, a hundred and one unique ways to wrap a gift.

I’ve always loved crafts, but during the school year, when planning and grading and emailing take over, I don’t get to pull out the scissors and paint as often as I like. Which is why the day after school lets out for Christmas break is one of my favorite personal rituals: I stir up some hot chocolate, turn on the Christmas music, and clear the kitchen table for an entire morning of wrapping gifts. After hours of reviewing end-of-semester projects and exams, it’s a relief to do something with my hands that has a starting point, an ending point, and a tangible and beautiful result.

I believe that in this digital world, our students are yearning for that same hands-on experience. As students get older, it seems that they spend more and more time—likely hours each day—on their computers or tablets scrolling resources, playing educational games, typing out their thoughts, and watching or recording video. 

This is all well and good. Technology provides incredible resources for efficient teaching, engaging learning, and personalized instruction. However, there likely has come a time in all of our careers when we thought, “Maybe I could just explain this, write something on the board, and then have them write down an answer!” That may sound a bit “one-room schoolhouse” to some of us, but research supports the idea that analog or low-tech teaching and learning are still effective—sometimes even more so.

So in this “analog issue,” we’ve asked writers to share lessons or methods that they find work even better than technological solutions. They remind us that seeing a unit’s scope and sequence written out instead of just on a screen can foster collaboration and help us picture a student’s learning. They suggest no-tech field or service trips you can take with your class to build connection to the local community. They think about the ways technology can actually create barriers instead of destroy them. And, they give suggestions for practices in your classroom that go beyond pressing play or asking students to email you their questions.

This Christmas season, we turn our gaze away from the glow of the screen and toward the tangible, intentional practices that nurture deep learning, connection, and a robust faith grounded in the physical reality of the word made flesh. May your mind be still this season as your hands continue to work—wrapping gifts, baking pie, wrangling batteries into a new toy, and holding your loved ones close.