Chaos made me a better teacher that day

Cecilia Nobre

Hi, there!

About 10 years ago, when I was still teaching in Brazil, I had one of those classic Rio moments where life messes with you before you even clock in.

I arrived at the language school, opened my bag, and instantly felt my soul leave my body: the coursebook was at home (English File, anyone?)

The one-page plan? Also at home.

And unless I wanted to spend the next 3 hours trapped on the bus, going back simply wasn’t an option.

So I did what any teacher does when the universe says “good luck, darling.”

I walked into the classroom with nothing but a pen, my keys, and the kind of hope that borders on delusion.

And somehow the lesson worked. Not because I suddenly became a teaching genius, but because learners, when you give them space, do what learners do best. They talk, they joke, they make meaning.

Halfway through, it hit me that I was teaching my first truly materials-light Dogme lesson without planning it (well… Dogme-ish. I had done versions before, but always with a secret backup video in my bag, just in case the universe wasn’t feeling generous.)

That 1 lesson was special because it showed me I relied on materials far more than I thought (if you want to know the topic of the lesson, reply to this email…I want to keep it short!)

And this brings me to what I wanted to talk about today, something teachers rarely admit out loud:

Dogme scares people.

Not because they dislike conversation or spontaneity.
But because “materials light” sounds dangerously close to “no structure.”

And if you’re honest with yourself, a part of you probably feels this too.
That little voice going:
“What if nothing emerges? What if learners say something I can’t build from? What if the lesson falls flat?”

I’ve been exactly there.
And I’ll tell you what I tell trainees every time:

Dogme only feels risky when you’re looking at the wrong thing.

When I first started, I treated Dogme like a performance…thinking I needed to be witty, responsive, intuitive, on-demand (exhausting… truly!)

But everything shifted the day I realised the problem wasn’t Dogme. It was the belief that structure must live in materials.

Once you drop that belief, a whole new world opens.

Here’s something I use to steady the room for myself and for the teachers I train:

Lens > Line > Loop.

1. The lens

Before the lesson, choose 1 communicative area to notice.
Not grammar points.
Patterns of interaction:
- hedging
- opinions
- clarifying questions

That’s your plan.
Your starting point.

2. The line

During the lesson, build the entire sequence around learner language.
A single line like “I no understand this” becomes a moment of high instructional value.

Then reformulate, check meaning and expand.

This is where the learning lives.

3. The loop

Your last 10 minutes give coherence to the whole lesson.
Recap, drill, expand, and locate the language in real life.

This turns what felt “messy” into something “elegant” and intentional.

You don’t need more materials.
You need a clearer way to read the room.

And that is a teachable and liberating skill. Believe me!

P.S. I’m adding the links to the 2 Dogme lessons I posted on Linkedinho:

the empty fridge idea and the delivery basket task.

Both generated huge engagement and, more importantly, incredibly practical comments from teachers sharing tweaks, variations, and real-classroom uses.

Think of it as a living bank of ideas you can dip into whenever you want something simple and human :)

Have you ever walked into a lesson and realised you’d forgotten your materials?

Talk soon,
Cecília