Welcome to this thoughtful and thought-provoking blog by Pen Holland of the University of York. Pen is part of a team who have just finished delivering the third iteration of a fascinating new module about Life on Earth, designed with the specific purpose of helping their students understand the what of biological knowledge – as well as the why and how of studying biosciences in the transition to university.
As Pen says they could have designed a traditional course with traditional assignments but they wanted their students to have agency and to be excited by learning… We feel that Life on Earth and its journey through space and time did just that – and developed academic and study skills in the process in meaningful and authentic ways.
Pen opens her post by musing on what the feedback we get from students tells us about what we did – and how it worked.
Pen’s introductory course is a creative and exciting development – and as always – if you are similarly experimenting with innovative ways of helping students become students – do let us know by writing a #Take5 of your own!
What can feedback tell us?
As we reach the end of the winter marking season, I find that the phrase “closing the feedback loop” has been on my mind a lot. Feedback is everywhere, from the conversations we have with students in or out of the classroom, to formal student evaluations of teaching, how they demonstrate their learning in the assessment, and how we feed back on what to take forward into the future. Not all feedback is answering the question you thought you’d asked. But all feedback is communication that deserves reflection: what happened, so what, and what next?
In particular I am reflecting here on an innovative ‘higher education orientation’ module we developed for semester one of a first year undergraduate programme, to help our students make a successful transition into learning at university. Life on Earth is a core module for a suite of bioscience degrees, for general biologists and for specialists studying topics across biotechnology, ecology, genetics and molecular biology. Our hope for the module was to provide a range of fundamental concepts to underpin future learning across the biosciences – Biology 101, if you like – but also to support a large cohort with wide interests and varied experiences to build a learning community, develop confidence in their approaches to learning, and go beyond ‘answering the questions’ towards being a graduate who knows how to ask the questions. The teaching and learning, assessment and feedback journey we have gone through together has in turn supported us as staff to better understand our students and the challenges they face, and together to map out a path for what we might want to do next in the module, and what students might want to do next as they work towards graduation.
It’s Life on Earth – but not as we know it
We take first year students on an adventure through time and space, to explore the diversity and adaptations of Life on Earth. We designed the module to support the transition to university as well as to excite curiosity in the wonders of the world. It asks students to reflect on their learning as they engage with biology from the origins of life to the global challenges that face us today. We teach with case studies, games, and team work in workshops. There are no lectures! There are, however, secret pen-pals in the other half of the cohort.
Secret pen-pals, you say? Because we can only fit 120 people in our flexible teaching space, and we’ve got almost double that in the cohort, our workshops are scheduled in repeating sessions as Group 1 and Group 2. Within those groups, we put the whole cohort into named teams of about six students, who sit together in timetabled sessions throughout the module. They build ‘study buddy’ relationships that can focus on the collaboration and support a team can provide, without the pressure of a group assessment. They don’t have to be friends, but they learn how to be colleagues. We teach them to play a card game co-created for the module in a student-staff partnership, which gives them a bonding experience that removes the need for small talk. Some of these groups sit together in other modules. Some start student societies together. Some have their own house rules for the game, and teach it to their flatmates.
This year, we brought the groups together by putting students into groups of twelve, named for species present on our campus, with six in each timetabled repeat. They corresponded via the team sheet, developing a beautiful virtual relationship of naughts and crosses, artwork and entertaining exchanges over the course of the semester. The beauty of this system is that any student who needs to attend ‘the other workshop’ due to extra-curricular commitments can still join ‘their’ group, and have a place where they feel like they can belong.


Pictures: Example name cards from the Kingfisher and Snow goose teams (cropped to remove identifying details).
So the students have teams. We also team teach: that means two of the three academics on the team plan to be in any given workshop to help build relationships with students and provide a consistent experience across the semester. That’s more fun for us too, and it means we have resilience as a team – it’s not easy to reschedule six hours a week in the largest teaching room on campus, but we all know the material (and the students) well enough to step in for each other at short notice. I personally feel that I have also benefited from peer observation, because I have that continuous opportunity to see, reflect on and discuss not only how my colleagues present to a large group, but also how they interact with students one-to-one and in small groups.
We cover diverse topics: we learn to draw phylogenies in “First Life” week, we crawl “Onto Land” (lovingly renamed “egg week” by students) with a case study and (new this year) an experimental game jam about the evolution of the amniotic egg. We listen to seed production data in Seasons week and feed the ducks in Urban Ecology week to understand the ideal free distribution. Poles week is established as a classic session. Really! Why aren’t penguins everywhere? We undertake the legendary two-part bean practical to experience a classic experimental design first hand in Food week, and try to finish the semester with hope despite Climate Change.


The bean practical, investigating how two types of bean (Safari, and Purple Teepee) grow differently under two temperature regimes (hot and cold). The bean plants are grown in advance, but the students prepare their own samples from the plants, take a variety of observations and measurements, and analyse the data over a two part, five hour practical experience.
The assessment is to write a case study on a topic relevant to life on earth (yes, that’s a broad set of options) and a reflective commentary on the module. So between the three of us, we have just read 220+ case studies on topics from immortal jellyfish development in the context of climate change, to the effects of artificial light on moths, accompanied by reflections on the skills, challenges and opportunities that students have experienced while they learn. And we’ve written feedback, using a grading rubric to indicate a score for various aspects of the submission, accompanied by text that says what they’ve done well, and where they could work on improvements.
Why this module – and why this way?
This is all on my mind because I feel like I have learned so much from this module, from students in (and between) workshops in the autumn semester, and from reading the assessments and writing the feedback. We already know that students find starting university challenging, away from their support networks, discovering that things are done differently here. We know that group work takes, well, work. We know that teaching core concepts to a large cohort engaged on multiple programmes means that each individual will find some topics more interesting than others, and there will almost certainly be a range of engagement that is driven not only by interest but also by the huge variety of challenges that our students face in their lives, within and beyond their studies.
We had to redesign our first year course for a whole-University change from a three term system to a modular semester-based programme. We shifted from 30 credits and five assessments across a whole year, to 20 credits and a single point of assessment in the autumn. We could have made the learning easy, and predictable, by doing lectures, individual exercises and a closed exam entirely focused on skills and knowledge in the discipline. It would be what many students expect. It might even get great evaluations. We made the decision to design Life on Earth differently because we wanted to support our students in making a swift transition into a new mindset.
Learning to see the world differently is hard. It isn’t linear. It can be uncomfortable, especially when you are discovering that what you needed to learn wasn’t necessarily what you thought you needed to learn. That’s okay, because if it’s easy, are you really challenging yourself towards positive change? (That applies to educators as well as students.)
I started this piece by saying all feedback is communication. Perhaps I should have said, all communication is feedback. There is a wide literature on formal student evaluations of teaching that explores the many and varied biases and challenges for interpreting quantitative data, and qualitative feedback, with respect to who the students are, who the teachers are, what the topic is, and so on. We are all caught in the crossfire of league table influences on admissions in the marketisation of higher education. But for me, reflecting on the feedback from module evaluations, the feedback from conversations with students and my module team in the classroom, the corridor, or by email, and the feedback from reviewing and responding to student assessments, I keep coming back to the many (philosophical and more concrete) questions that we must keep asking ourselves about the differences between what we think students (and staff) want, and what they need.
What sits around the learning process should make it possible to “muddle through the discomfort”1 of rewiring your brain. That is not to say learning should be unmitigated misery! Nor that if one route to the learning outcomes fills you with horror, you should simply push through the pain. But higher education is about building a map together with students, and equipping them with the skills to use it in this and new situations. If some of them ask for a lift to the other side because it would be more comfortable, should we call for a taxi, or walk with them while they find a way to build their own transport system?
What the students did…
The case studies our students write are all really interesting. Some of them are brilliant. Most of them are correctly (and I mean, absolutely excellently) referencing primary scientific literature and it is clear that they have read and understood it. That’s pretty good for first year first semester. They’ve gained specialist knowledge in their case study area as well as on the topics we explored in depth during the semester, but they’re also demonstrating the ability to find peer reviewed information and critically evaluate it. And crucially, they have all taken a big step towards being the person who asks a good question, as well as one who can come up with a good answer.
And what they thought about it…
The reflections tell us that it wasn’t easy. They had expectations about university teaching and learning that weren’t apparent in this module: where were the lectures? They took a while to get their heads around what independent and inter-dependent learning looks like. What is most striking for me, though, is their ability to articulate a journey and see how far they have come:
This was the experience that helped me understand that I needed to do the prep before the workshop.
That was the exercise that brought our group together, and helped me realise how useful and important it is to listen to diverse viewpoints I hadn’t encountered before university.
Here was the conversation that gave me support when I needed it, and reassured me that I could do the work.
And here is how I am going to take this understanding forward, to make the most of my university experience and pursue a career in something I didn’t even realise existed.
Marking 200+ case studies and reflections between three is a Herculean task. Each year we make it through as a team: we start by dividing the work equally, and then those that can, help out those that are struggling. That brings us closer together as colleagues. We have a group chat to share the comments that will bring someone joy, and there are a lot of those to share. Every case study is different, and we have conversations in the marking sheet to sense-check our feedback. But although it is many hours of work, it is also a deeply rewarding experience to hear what our students have to say, both about the biology and about their own experiences.
What we said in return…
We hope our feedback will help our students to know where to start in their next piece of scientific writing, and to appreciate their personal development as well as their biology progress. It’s only about 300 words but it is written as a conversation with the student, much like the conversations that we’ve had all the way through the module, when students have been working on formative case studies or starting to plan their assessed piece. Here I have combined and mythologised some examples in order to share the style of feedback without a clear link to any one piece of student work:
Very relevant Life on Earth topic, with an informative introduction exploring Pacific dragon populations in relation to sea ice/climate change, and it brings in human pressures as well. The text is quite dense – think about splitting it up into smaller paragraphs that each have a specific purpose, leading towards a clear statement of the case study focus; here it could be dragons and decreasing population sizes; sea ice and feeding; climate change effects on that; additional pressure from hunting; the need to consider how to put effective conservation management in place; what this case study will present in the evidence.
Relevant evidence is presented from two sources, linked to the introduction and with informative text. Figure captions could be more informative (e.g. saying what the key result is in Figure 2), and make sources clearer. Slightly more detail on study methods could have helped to explain the results and opened the conversation on strengths and weaknesses relating to these, as well as the comparison/link between the two studies presented.
One of the challenges here is a lack of critical evaluation of the topic – you asked “How do dragons stay warm” but you could have created a more powerful story if you had explored “Why” do they need to stay warm, e.g. to link warmth to survival and reproduction; to discuss “how’ did those adaptations arise from an evolutionary perspective; or brought in more variety to compare the experience of e.g. the Caribbean dragons who have to deal with much warmer temperatures and different hunting pressures compared to a Southern Ocean species. This would have helped you to lift the focus from a description of “what adaptations do they have.”
References should be in alphabetical order in the final section. Put in text citations within the sentence, before the final full stop, to make it clear which sentence they are supporting: references are part of the conversation, providing the supporting evidence, not just a flag to say where you found the information.
Your reflection identifies key experiences that led to a change in approach, to improve preparation and learning subsequently and in other modules. You identify some key challenges and areas for change, as well as some areas of strength. You could have shifted more towards critical evaluation of why some things were harder than others, as the reflection is quite descriptive particularly for the later parts of the module.
And this is what we thought about it
This epic marking exercise helps us to understand what has gone well, and where we need to make changes for next year’s students. It’s a level of rich feedback that closes the loop for the educators as well as the learners. We not only know that our students have acquired a lot of useful knowledge, we know how they found it, and we know that they know how to find more.
Talking with students informally on the other side of receiving the feedback and grades has been encouraging: my own admittedly small sample size of conversations thus far includes an assessment that our words “make sense” with respect to the grade, but also that they “really help me to see what to focus on if I were to write another case study or scientific report.” Fair and constructive feedback after the grade has been received – what more can we ask for?
Conclusion: We can bring learning to Life (on Earth)
A key challenge for new students is adapting to university learning, with a major shift towards independent learning, often outside home support networks. The risk of a slow transition that looks more like school is that students settle into university with the impression that they are still there to answer questions, and that there is an answer, rather than learning to ask good questions themselves, and answer it collaboratively and individually using primary literature.
This is our third year running the module, and (in my humble opinion) the best yet. There are still things we can work on, and we’ll reflect on those as we inch towards next year’s journey. We’ll bring in more stories from alumni. We’d like to connect second and third years with the first years, to help them better understand where they are headed and ease the transition pain. We’re hoping to move some teaching outside, for the biodiversity and nature benefits tas well as for wellbeing and engagement. And we might even write the Life on Earth textbook. Here we want to share some thoughts on how we and others might build on our experiences to date, supported by student quotes that have been combined across three years and 600+ reflections, with light editing to protect individual turns of phrase.
Recommendations: Building your own worlds
For staff, a big challenge in leading a transition to independent learning lies in the fact that this is an uncomfortable time for many. Knowing how to support students academically also requires an understanding of what else is going on in their lives. Here are some of our key recommendations for radical life on earth.
Make that change rapidly. It can feel like ripping off a plaster: it might not be fun at the time, but it’s possible to appreciate it from the other side.
“Moving away from the very guided learning style at school has helped me to focus on areas I personally struggled with, and develop these skills quicker than I otherwise would have…Life on Earth introduced me to many learning styles that I hadn’t encountered before: these were a source of great challenge and confusion, but also the area of most development for me.”
Build relationships with and between students that promote dialogue and encourage reflection on long-term educational gains as well as short term knowledge increases. It can be difficult, but it is not impossible.
“Life on Earth has helped me think about my degree as a process of learning how to think, not just what to think…I had to switch my approach from memorising facts to a more creative one, researching answers and considering different sources and their credibility before choosing which direction to investigate. This is a fundamental learning strategy for research, and I am glad that Life on Earth introduced me to it early in my university career…Life on Earth has helped me be more critical and analytical…It has shown me how different perspectives and feedback from peers can make work more engaging and enjoyable.”
Active learning at scale without breaking the timetable or the people works when you build the learning community into the teaching. Life on Earth has a small group feel, in large workshops. Use games and study groups to support relationship building. These will pay off for the wider knowledge and skills development in your module and others, even if it doesn’t feel like it at first.
“We were introduced to people from the very start of the module, which helped us to find friends and made it more comfortable and easier to transition into the new environment…The game encouraged us to interact, question and reason with each other, within the light-hearted format of the game…I thought playing the game made some of the early workshops pointless, but upon reflection, I realised that the time playing was integral to laying the foundations of comfort with each other, which is the most important thing for a constructive discussion.”
Scaffolding for reflection and metacognition supports students to become independent learners able to articulate their own development. Integrate it into the course; teach students how to reflect and give them time and incentives to do so. Knowledge does not exist in isolation from professional (‘soft’) skills, and one without the other is not as useful as both.
“Learning doesn’t have to be someone talking while I take notes…Throughout the module I was introduced to many different forms of learning that were very different from my A-level method of note taking…Discussing topics and using fun games really altered my view on learning. These new learning formats helped motivate me where I previously might lose interest…Independent learning can be difficult, but perhaps this is where reflective learning is most valuable, to become one’s own tutor.”
Framing the learning as a journey through Life on Earth across all of space and time rather than as a curriculum left us space to integrate employability, professional skills and science communication, with underlying themes of equality, diversity, inclusion and wellbeing. Our case study based learning promotes curiosity. Yes, there are key fundamental facts that students working in field x must learn. But if we want to develop lifelong learners, we also need students to be excited by the prospect of having agency in their education. Supporting that, we provided stories of former students who had gone on to work in a variety of areas, or published papers on Life on Earth relevant topics. Don’t just tell students what the module can do for them: show them.
“Knowing that the game was created by someone who was at the same level as me really encourages me to push myself to achieve something amazing out of my degree…I loved reading former students’ career profiles…it was encouraging to see people who have done my degree completing primary research…it was inspirational to see a graduate of this course working for a non-profit organization.”
And finally
So if you’ve ever wondered whether it’s possible to run an active, playful, large module with student curiosity at the centre, give the assessment brief in September, still get attendance over 80% in December workshops, and know that you’ve changed minds and lives in the process: start with reflection from start to finish, a learning journey through lives as well as topics, and co-create the map as you go. You won’t regret it.
A handful of references:
- Oliveira VM de, Facer K, Faniyii AF. Outgrowing Modernity: Navigating Complexity, Complicity, and Collapse with Accountability and Compassion. New York: North Atlantic Books; 2025. 368 p
- Holland P, Kirman B, Knox K, Massey L, Martin E (2019). Catastrophic Version 2.0. University of York, UK. catastrophic.york.ac.uk
Biography

Pen Holland is a Professor of Ecology and Education at the University of York, where she is the Faculty of Sciences Scholarship Lead, and founder of the Playful Learning at York (PLaY) Group. Her research interests range from ecological modelling for conservation and management to game-based learning for communicating complex problems. She is deeply fascinated by how we understand, manage and act with information, processes and people in uncertain and variable systems.
