Worth A Thousand Words: The Benefits of Doodles in Teaching

Worth A Thousand Words: The Benefits of Doodles in Teaching

By: Ellika Koike

“Could you teach me the spell?” I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been accidentally asked for advice on witchcraft and wizardry in class. It’s a lot for someone who’s never been to Hogwarts. And yet, when I tried explaining this to students, I was mostly met with blank stares. Words just weren’t doing me any favours. Then, one day, I drew a little wizard on the board, sparks shooting out of his wand. “This is what you’re asking me to do,” I explained to them. “Sadly, this is beyond my capabilities. However, I can teach you the spelling.

A doodle of a wizard casting a spell.
“Could you teach me the spell?”

I’ve been drawing for as long as I can remember. Throughout my school years, every blank margin, notebook cover, and stray scrap of paper ended up filled with little characters and visual jokes. It helped me process information as a visual learner—though it occasionally got me into trouble.

So, when I became a teacher, I figured: why not use doodles to help my students the same way they helped me?

A doodle of a punk rocker with a bright red mohawk.
“I got a punk on my bicycle” instead of “My tyre is punctured.”

The benefits of drawing in the classroom are huge, especially for English as a Second Language (ESL) students. A confusing explanation can be turned into a simple diagram in seconds. I remember being asked once to explain the difference between‘isolated and secluded. “Let me draw it for you.” For isolated I drew a tiny island with an equally tiny palm tree, surrounded by a vast ocean. For secluded, I drew a cabin in the woods, reachable only by a long and winding path. Nuance made easy and accessible through the power of the doodle.

A doodle of a viking warrior.
“The dinner was Viking.” Baikingu (バイキング) is the Japanese term for an all-you-can-eat buffet, which comes from the word “Viking.” A common error in Japanese language classes when discussing places to eat.

Take prepositions, for example. When a student tells me, “I cook myself for dinner,” I could just correct them. But it’s way more fun (and effective) to draw a panicked little stick figure chef frying his own arm. That image sticks in their minds (for better or worse), and suddenly, they never forget the difference between “cook by myself” and “cook myself.”

What’s more, it’s an excellent tool for storytelling. When I noticed my students were having trouble visualizing abstract conversations about “a friend,” I drew a dorky figure on the board. “This is Satoshi,” I told my students. “He’s your friend.” The moment I introduced this cartoonish little guy, the class accepted him. Satoshi became real to them. Suddenly their discussions had length and depth. Students had real opinions about Satoshi. And once I realized how much students engage with drawings—no matter how simple—I knew I had an invaluable tool on my hands.

A doodle of a character named Satoshi, an awkwardly standing young man.
“Satoshi is nice, but uncool. He wants a girlfriend. Help him improve!” A task where students must use modal auxiliaries to communicate advice.

And more than anything, it can make your students laugh. The most magical thing about these doodles is that, beyond making explanations clearer, they help build camaraderie. Laughter brings students together, and inside jokes make class feel like a shared experience.

One time, a student mispronounced “fried tofu” as “flying tofu,” so of course I drew a block of tofu with wings on the board. For the rest of the term, “flying tofu” became a running joke in class. Every time food came up, someone would suggest making or eating “flying tofu,” and the whole class cracked up. That kind of shared humor makes learning feel less intimidating.

A doodle of a block of tofu with bird wings.
“Flying Tofu”

“This is all well and good for you, but I can’t draw!” you might say. To that, I say: Perfect!

The uglier your art, the better. Students love it when you’re a little terrible at something. It makes you relatable, and, more importantly, it makes mistakes less scary for them. Even stick figures can be incredibly effective, and in some cases, they’re funnier—which means they’re more memorable.

Even the simplest drawings can reinforce lessons. When my students aren’t engaging as much in discussions as I’d like, I often sketch a blank-faced character on the board and ask, “Does this guy look like he’s listening to his partner’s story?” Then, I adjust it—a slight smile, raised eyebrows, speech bubble that says “Wow!”—and suddenly, they get it. Active listening isn’t just a concept anymore; it’s something they can see—and immediately apply.

A doodle of a police officer holding a person at gunpoint.
“When you don’t elaborate or use follow-up questions, you may sound like you’re interrogating your conversation partner…”

The absolute best feeling as a teacher is when a student comes up to you and says, “I never used to like English, but you made every class fun.” Doodles are a small thing, but they can change the way students engage with learning. So grab a marker, embrace the chaos, and start drawing. Even if your best effort looks like a potato with legs, I promise—your students will love it. And more importantly, they’ll remember it.

Ellika Koike is an artist and teacher in Tokyo who hates writing bios and never knows what to say.

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