Begin with the End in Mind: How Setting Intentions is Shaping Writers’ Workshop
What happens when young writers start their creative process with purpose? Reflections from the first week of a simple but powerful shift.
"I don't know what I want to do today."
or
"I did nothing today." "I had no win today!" "I've got writer's block."
I've heard these phrases a lot in Writers' Workshop. Some kids sit down, stare at the screen, and then get stuck before they even begin—not because they lack ideas—but because there's too much possibility. The blank page is wide open, and that can feel overwhelming.
This past week, we introduced something new (but also something familiar): setting an intention before each session. Instead of stepping into the workshop without direction, each writer takes a moment to ask:
What do I want from today's session?
How do I want to feel/have/learn/do by the end?
What's one thing I can do to move toward that?
It's a simple practice, but already, I can see the shift in confidence, focus, and curiosity. At the end of each session, reflections are different—fewer frustration (fewer, not zero) "I did nothing today" moments and more discoveries.
But this isn't just about a new workshop practice. It's about rethinking how we set goals, engage with learning, and reflect on progress.
And if I'm being honest, this past week has made me rethink something else, too—why traditional goal-setting in schools never really worked for me or my students.
The Research Behind It: Why Set Intentions?
This past week in Writers' Workshop, we introduced a simple but powerful shift: Start with the end in mind - an idea I was introduced to in Stephen Covey's principle of "Begin with the End in Mind" from The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People (1989). Covey suggests that the most effective individuals start with a clear vision of what they want before they take action. This principle isn't just about productivity—it's about intentionality. When people - including kids and teens - define their own success, they are more engaged and reflective in the process of reaching it.
In other words: clarity and reflection matter, but only when they are meaningful to the individual. It's a small act, but the research tells us it's essential.
John Hattie, in Visible Learning (2008), analyzed over 800 studies on what impacts student achievement. He found that goal setting has a moderate effect size (0.68)—but the real power comes from students actively setting, monitoring, and reflecting on their own learning progress (Hattie, 2008). The highest impact strategies weren't about a teacher telling students what to learn but about students taking ownership of their learning process.
This is my hope for Writers' Workshop. I want kids to feel a greater sense of direction when they enter the space and to reflect more meaningfully when they leave. I want them to see that creativity isn't just about output—it's also about intention.
But as I introduced this practice, I found myself thinking back to my teaching days.
Because this isn't the first time I've tried to make learning and goals more visible.
And the last time? It didn't work.
The Problem with Writing Objectives on the Board
When I was a teacher (over five years ago now), we were expected to write lesson objectives on the board. The idea was that if students saw the goal for the lesson, they would understand what they were supposed to learn. It was supposed to make learning “visible.”
But here’s the thing: just making a goal visible doesn’t make it meaningful.
I remember standing at the front of the classroom, dutifully writing:
"Today, we will analyze character development in narrative texts."
It wasn’t an actual goal I would have chosen myself—it was dictated by the curriculum or whatever framework we were following at the time. And, because it was best practice, I would underline the key verbs—like that would somehow make kids care more about the action I was trying to get them to do.
At the start of the term, I had even given my spiel about SMART goals—again, like the kids actually cared why I wrote SMART goals on the board.
Back to hindsight:
Did that sentence change how my students engaged with the lesson? Not really.
It sounded logical. But in practice? It didn’t work. And I knew that.
I never expected my students to feel sudden clarity, direction, or motivation.
I got what I expected.
Blank stares. Maybe a few nods. Mostly, it was just words on a board that no one paid attention to after the first five minutes.
Here it is: visibility alone doesn’t equal engagement. Just because an objective is present in the room doesn’t mean it carries meaning for the students inside it.
Why Traditional Goal-Setting Didn’t Work
There were three key problems with this approach:
No Personal Connection – The objectives weren’t written for students; they were written for the lesson plan. They reflected what I wanted them to learn, not what they were invested in learning.
No Ownership – Students weren’t part of the goal-setting process. The objective was imposed upon them, which meant they felt no responsibility toward achieving it.
No Reflection – Even if we reached the objective by the end of the lesson, students weren’t actively tracking their own progress against it—because they couldn’t visualize what success meant for them.
We forget that each of us (including kids) measures success differently. For some, success is an action. For others, it’s a feeling. For others still, it’s something tangible.
Without that personal and subjective measure of success, there was no space for students to assess what worked, what didn’t, or what they needed next.
John Hattie’s research in Visible Learning (2008) reinforces this in his analysis of over 800 studies on student achievement, found that simply making learning objectives visible has a moderate effect size—but what truly moves the needle is when students take an active role in setting, monitoring, and reflecting on their own learning goals (Hattie, 2008).
In other words:
Clarity matters—but only when it’s meaningful to the learner.
What Would Have Made It Meaningful?
At the time, I followed the system I was given. But looking back, I now realize that what was missing was student autonomy.
If my students had been encouraged to:
Write their own learning goals based on their personal needs and interests,
Reflect on those goals at the end of the lesson,
Adjust their goals based on what they discovered that day,
…then those objectives on the board might have actually mattered.
Instead of passively seeing the goal, they would have been actively working toward it—which is exactly what we’re doing now in Writers’ Workshop.
I’d love to hear from other teachers, parents, writers, creators:
Do you set intentions before you begin your creative work?
What helps you stay engaged in the process?
How do you measure progress beyond just finishing something?
Drop your thoughts in the comments—I’d love to continue this conversation.
Writers' Worksop is Intention Driven Now!
Now, instead of setting objectives for students, I start by asking them:
"What do you want to get out of today’s session?"
"How do you want to feel by the end? What do you want to do by the end? What do you want to have by the end?"
"What’s one thing you can do to move toward that?"
The difference? The goal isn’t just visible—it’s theirs.
They own it.
They track it.
They reflect on it.
And already, I can see that it’s making a difference.
First Week: Observations, Discoveries, and Hesitations
I knew setting intentions before Writers’ Workshop would have an impact. What I didn’t know was how quickly that impact would show up.
At the start of the week, I introduced the practice:
"Before you step into the creative space, take a moment to ask yourself—what do you want from today’s session?"
I reassured them that an intention didn’t have to be big. It didn’t have to be measurable in the traditional sense. It could be as simple as:
"I want to leave feeling inspired."
"I want to figure out what’s next for my story."
"I want to play around with a new idea."
"I want to write, even if I don’t know where it’s going."
Then I asked them to take it one step further:
"What’s one action you can take to move toward that?"
That could be:
Going to the Flow Void (our distraction-free writing zone).
Playing with the character cards to spark ideas.
Asking for feedback from two people.
Freewriting for ten minutes.
By the end of the first session, I could already tell that something had shifted.
The First Signs of Change
At first, I saw it in their body language.
The hesitation I sometimes see at the start of a session—the "What do I do now?" feeling—was noticeably less present. Writers came in already knowing what they wanted to explore, even if that intention shifted once they got into their work.
Then, I saw it in their reflections at the end of the session.
Instead of vague or uncertain responses, the language of their reflections changed. Before, I would often hear:
"I don’t really know what I did today."
"I wrote, but I’m not sure if it’s good."
"I kind of worked on my story, but I got stuck."
Then, I started hearing:
"I wanted to start my story, and I ended up coming up with three new ideas for my plot."
"I didn’t finish the chapter, but my character needs a better backstory."
"I was going to write a poem, but I ended up journaling instead—and I actually love what I wrote!"
The biggest difference? Their reflections weren’t just about what they had finished. They were about what they had discovered.
And that’s when I knew this wasn’t just a better way to start a session.
This was a better way to end one, too.
Not Everyone is Bought In—And That’s Okay
I don’t want to paint the picture that all of the kids have fully embraced this. Because the truth is, some are still hesitant.
One writer, when asked to set an intention, wrote:
"My goal is to write, and my action is to write."
I get it.
Goal-setting doesn’t come naturally to everyone. It definitely doesn’t come naturally to me.
If you had asked me as a kid to set a goal before writing, I probably would have frozen. Goal-setting always made me feel like I was setting myself up for failure. I still catch myself thinking that sometimes.
So, I understand the hesitation.
For some kids, setting an intention feels like pressure. It feels like commitment to a single direction, and what if they don’t follow through? What if they don’t know what they want? What if they fail?
That’s why I’m actively checking in with each writer, having conversations about what goal-setting really means.
It’s not about locking yourself into one path.
It’s not about perfection.
It’s not even about achievement in the traditional sense.
It’s about learning how to name what you need in the moment—even if what you need is as simple as "I just want to write today."
That’s valid. That’s enough.
For some kids, this process will take longer. And that’s okay. I would have been one of those kids.
Shifts in Self-Perception
One of the most interesting shifts I noticed was in how students talked about their own work.
Before, when a student felt like they hadn’t achieved enough, there was often a sense of frustration. If they didn’t finish what they planned, they saw it as a failure.
But now? Even when things didn’t go as expected, their reflections were less about disappointment and more about discovery.
It wasn’t: "I failed to write today."
It was: "I realized I need to do more backstory."
It wasn’t: "I didn’t meet my goal."
It was: "I actually needed to explore something else first."
The shift was subtle, but powerful: some were no longer measuring success solely by output.
Instead, they were measuring it by progress, insight, and the creative process itself.
What I’m Taking Away from This First Week:
Writers are showing up with more confidence: They come into the space with more direction, even if their focus shifts later.
Reflections are more intentional: There’s a clearer sense of progress—not just in what they finished, but in what they learned.
There’s less frustration at the end of a session: The language of reflection has shifted from "I didn’t get enough done" to "Here’s what I figured out today."
Not everyone is comfortable with goal-setting—and that’s okay: Some writers need time. Some need reassurance. Some need to redefine what a goal even means for them.
Success is being redefined: It’s not just about the number of words written—it’s about insight, exploration, and creative movement.
Final Thoughts
Okay, Brianne! It’s only been a week. Don't get ahead of yourself here. But I already feel the impact of this shift—not just in how students are engaging with their writing, but in how they are engaging with themselves as writers.
But yes— it’s just the beginning.
Some kids will need more time. Some will resist for a while. And some, like me, will have to unlearn the idea that goal-setting is just another way to measure failure.
And honestly? I’m learning right alongside them. What I know for sure is this: the culture we build in the Writers’ Workshop matters.
I want to create a space where goal-setting isn’t about pressure but about personal ownership and curiosity. A space where progress isn’t just measured by what gets finished but by what gets discovered. A space where creativity isn’t tied to rigid outcomes but to exploration.
And this is my intention—and the actions I am taking—to create that.
I’d love to hear from other writers and creators:
Do you set intentions before you begin your creative work?
What helps you stay engaged in the process?
How do you measure progress beyond just finishing something?
Drop your thoughts in the comments—I’d love to continue this conversation.
Because, at the end of the day, creativity isn’t just about what we produce. It’s about how we engage with the process.
And that, too, is progress.
Keep Reading
1. John Hattie – Visible Learning: A Synthesis of Over 800 Meta-Analyses Relating to Achievement (2008)
Summary of Hattie’s findings: https://visible-learning.org/hattie-ranking-influences-effect-sizes-learning-achievement/
2. Stephen R. Covey – The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People (1989)
Overview of the 7 Habits framework: https://www.franklincovey.com/the-7-habits/
3. Edwin Locke & Gary Latham – A Theory of Goal Setting & Task Performance (1990)
Research overview: https://positivepsychology.com/goal-setting-theory/