I divided the class into two groups. The first group was given a problem without any explanation, while the second group received a traditional lesson first.
I didn’t give hints or definitions. They could draw, fold paper, or use cutouts—it was entirely up to them.
The results were fascinating. Some children divided the cake incorrectly but quickly sensed it wasn’t fair. Many believed that “more slices” meant “more cake.” Some folded sheets and recalculated, while others erased and argued with friends. A few were not able to do it, but most of them were fully engaged. I could see real thinking and discovery taking place.
Only after this did I begin teaching fractions—explaining ½, ¼, ⅕, and how fractions represent equal parts. This time, the classroom felt different. The students listened with sharper questions, compared answers, and connected my explanations to their own attempts.
When both groups later took the same test, the difference was clear. The group that had first struggled showed stronger reasoning and were able to explain why a fraction was fair or unfair. The traditional group performed well on definitions but often struggled with application.
This experiment taught me something valuable: struggle, when safe and supported, helps children learn more deeply. They are capable of figuring out more than we assume, but only if we give them the chance.
Next time, I plan to try problems like comparing ⅓ and ¼, or using liquids like juice and water to make sharing more real. I also want to see what happens if students design their own problems.
That day, when my students argued over how to share a chocolate cake, they weren’t only craving dessert—they were learning with excitement. Letting them try before I taught made all the difference.
