We will all have come across numerous ‘Knock Knock’ jokes, most of which would safely be filed under the heading ‘predictable’ or ‘corny’.
Take the one that goes, “Knock, knock. Who’s there? Nobel. Nobel who? Nobel … that’s why I knocked”. Or what about the one that says, “Knock, knock. Who’s there? Luke. Luke who? Luke through the peep hole and find out”.
No-one is going to be rolling in the aisles over such jokes. However, jokes aside, jokes can be a wonderfully powerful method of teaching.
Let us consider therefore for a few moments two classic comedy programmes from yesteryear and the educational lesson we may glean from them.
In the 1970s, a totally new wacky form of comedy entitled Monty Python Flying Circus with the tagline “And now for something completely different” was introduced to the wider world in which ridiculous skits followed one after another.
In one such skit, a young man was being quizzed by his wife about some matter to which he responded that he was not exactly expecting the Spanish inquisition (the process where people were interrogated, prosecuted and punished by anything from flogging to execution, to maintain Christian orthodoxy), at which point the door bursts open and clerics jump in shouting what became a powerful catchphrase: “Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition”, adding that their “chief weapon is surprise and fear”.
Much of the comedy lies in the complete inability of the Inquisitors to get things right.
In the 1980s a different comedy series, entitled Alo Alo grew in popularity, with the action taking place in a small French café during World War II where British soldiers were hidden from the invading German forces.
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One of the most notable catchphrases from the series was the line from the leading lady who would regularly declare
“Listen very carefully. I shall say this only once” (to which the main man responded: “Well, in that case, could you please speak slowly?”).
In one classic scene when an innocent local is interrogated by incompetent German soldiers and answers one of the questions with a question of his own, the German immediately responded with the classic line “We ask zee questions!”
This has since become a regular comedic catchphrase for many.
Of course, teachers often are the ones who declare “We ask the questions”, interpreting a child of four asking the question “why?” as being insufferable and a child of fourteen asking the same question as being rebellious.
In truth, though, teachers do not ask enough questions. They do not get pupils asking questions.
At the heart of twenty-first learning is critical thinking, which in very simple terms is the ability to ask questions.
We must expect children to ask questions and applaud them when they do, though in some parts of the world if people question the regime, they are incarcerated, like the Spanish Inquisitors did to those who questioned the religion.
We are not being funny, however, but must point out that teachers tend to make statements for children to learn, without any need for thought on the part of the pupils, instead of asking questions.
We need teachers to ask the questions, not the simple multiple-choice ones or the ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ ones, not even our typical ones where we say a statement and just say “what?” before we say the last word.
We should avoid our favourite “Isn’t it, hey?” type of question or the safe, lazy or even rhetorical questions.
Factual questions are important, yes, but should we not also be asking probing, difficult, mind-testing questions?
In asking questions we are modelling the skill we want in our children. We want children to ask questions as well.
In closing, we shall say this only once and accordingly will speak it slowly.
Nobody expects the Spanish inquisition and pupils do not expect the teachers’ inquisition — indeed they probably laugh at the idea that teachers’ chief weapons are “surprise and fear” when it comes to questions.
We must expect and require the teachers’ and pupils’ inquisition. Teachers and parents, though, must learn to ask questions so that pupils in turn will ask the questions on their own.
The acclaimed actor Robin Williams turned the humour around a little with his own German ‘Knock Knock’ joke, which picked up on this theme: “Knock Knock. Who’s there? Ve ask zee questions!”
Opportunity knocks for pupils when they learn to ask questions themselves, the type of questions we as teachers would ask.
That may just be something completely different. So who’s there, doing that? I am asking.




