Friday, September 24, 2010

The value of tensions

I attended a talk last Friday on innovation in educational settings by Keith Sawyer.  The talk was sponsored by BYU's Mckay School of Education and the Department of Instructional Psychology & Technology.  Dr. Sawyer's work is in cognitive science and focuses largely on how to endgender and facilitate creativity within organizations.  He spent the last 15 minutes or so of his presentation discussing the challenges that come in trying to create a culture of innovation where one didn't exist before.  Much of his ideas were framed around the concept of tensions and constraints (e.g. How can we provide freedom to innovate while also meeting standards and expectations of clients, lawmakers, investors, etc.?).  His remarks resonated with me because tensions were something that I've been thinking about quite a bit lately.

By definition, tension implies some degree of discomfort or stretching.  It's that gray, ambiguous area that isn't all that comfortable to be in.  That place where we're torn between two competing forces that require us to bend and stretch.  But, that bending and stretching is a good thing because it forces us out of the comfortable poles into a place where we have to think critically, consider multiple perspectives, and be innovative.  Working in the space between the tensions ultimately leads to growth.

Here are some examples of productive tensions I've encountered recently:

-Which students most need my support & Who is most likely to respond to my efforts?

-How can I allow meaningful choice for learners, while still meeting standards laid out by my department, college, or university?

-How do I allow a toddler to explore, learn, and develop independence, while still keeping her safe (and keeping the house standing)?

-How do you facilitate coherent, integrated learning across a course, and foster some sense of emergent or constructivist learning?

-Where is the balance between bottom-up creativity and top-down guidance?

-How do I sincerely forgive those that have made sometimes grievous mistakes, but still hold out some level of accountability?


There are no easy answers to these sorts of questions, which is a good thing because easy answers to tough questions are dangerous and short-sighted.  As I struggle with these sorts of issues, the progress is slow (in some ways, these are the sorts of questions that take careers and lifetimes to answer), but I find myself having the occasional insight that makes me a better educator, parent, and person.

So, where are the healthy tensions for you?  What sorts of tough questions guide your work?

 


Friday, September 17, 2010

The dangers of zealotry & ideology

"The spirit of which I speak creates imaginary and magnifies real causes of complaing; arrogates to itself every virtue--denies every merit to its oponents; secretly entertains the worst designs . . . mounts the pulpit, and, in the name of a God of mercy and peace, preaches discord and vengeance; invokes the worst scourges of Heaven, war, pestilence, and famine, as preferable alternatives to party defeat; blind, vindictive, cruel, remorseless, unprincipled, and at last, frantic, it communicates its madness to friends as well as foes; respects nothing, fears nothing."

This is an excerpt from an 1830 Senate speech given by Edward Livingston in which he spoke critically of the reflexive partisanship and unreflective ideologies that were manifesting themselves in the debates about states' rights.  Livingston, who was a close political ally of Andrew Jackson and who like Jackson believed in the inherent goodness and wisdom of the American populace, was discouraged by the lack of civility, informed discourse, and thoughtfulness he saw in the political conversation of the period.  At the risk of an oversimplification, Livingston believed that people could make wise political decisions, but that uncivil, ideological debates prevented the wisdom of the citizenry from winning the day.  

When I read this part of Livingston's speech last week (in Jon Meacham's biography of Andrew Jackson, American Lion) it resonated with me because I see a lot of the same sort of thing today (maybe it has always been a part of large societies?).  Of course I thought immediately of the political realm and the unbending ideology that is part of every election cycle.  But, I also see it in education.  There are the qualitative & quantitative wars within research circles, the acquisitionists vs. the participationists in the learning sciences, and of course the behaviorists vs. the cognitivists vs. the constructivists.  Differences of opinion are a good thing, but only if those that hold those varying positions can engage with one another in civil and productive ways.  And, there is less and less of that happening these days.

Pluralism, be it theoretical, political, or practical is a good thing.  Communities can thrive when they are made up of diverse individuals who see the world from a variety of perspectives.  But, that outcome is only possible when we can engage in thoughtful dialogue with one another and use this diversity to work towards common purposes and, whenever possible, an enriched shared understanding (see James Surowiecki's The Wisdom of Crowds for a great treatment of this and related ideas).  In fact, the tension created between conflicting ideas can be powerful when it protects against excess, extremism, etc.  When two (or more) positions compete for attention and screen each other for weaknesses, we have a much better chance of arriving at some sort of critical understanding that is useful in guiding policy, practice, or behavior.  But, we have to listen to each other long enough, closely enough, and open-mindedly enough before we'll ever get to that point.  

I saw a good example of this (on a micro-level) recently when I attended a meeting of the Provo City School District Board of Education.  One of the agenda items for the board's study meeting was a proposal for the district to contribute some of its property tax revenue to the development of a parking structure for the Provo Freedom Plaza.  The board was fairly split and, from what I could infer, felt quite passionately about the issue.  There has been some history of less than outstanding real estate deals with Provo city in the past and some board members felt like the district had been burned.  Others felt strongly that the board should support the project because of its potential to bring money back to the district in ten years and because of the projects potential positive impact upon the city.  Initially, the discussion was quite heated, but I was impressed with board members' ability to put their passions and biases aside and listen to one another.  The final vote in the business meeting later on in the evening was still split, but at least two board members who were initially quite passionate in one direction or the other had changed their stance by the time the final vote was called for.  It was gratifying to see elected officials who were able to listen dispassionately and be critical of their own views.  Ultimately, I think the board made the decision that was best for the city and best for the district.

If only there were more of this in other places be it the senate or academic conferences.


  




Friday, September 10, 2010

IKEA & Instruction

My daughter turned two yesterday, which was lots of fun. But it also meant that I spent my labor day putting together her birthday present -- a dresser and night stand for her new room. As an aside, it occurred to me while searching for screw #14554, that I will probably spend the next 8 or 10 labor days assembling some sort of gift because of the fact that my daughter's birthday will always fall just a few days after labor day. The good news is that things seem to get better each year (this year's furniture project went much better than did last year's swing set debacle, but that's another post).

All in all, the furniture was pretty easy to assemble, mostly because the folks at IKEA know a thing or two about design and how to help people like me put together their products. In the four hours or so I spent trying to follow the instructions I had some insights about teaching and learning.

1. Every once in a while force yourself to try to teach & learn visually. IKEA's instructions were made up exclusively of images. That meant that their visual descriptions had to be incredibly clear because there was no written description to fall back onto. It also meant that the design of the furniture had to be very simple and intuitive. Too much of instruction relies solely upon written or oral pedagogies. Written or verbal methods are not inherently evil, but because we're so accustomed to communicating in these ways, it's easy to do it badly without really knowing it. Representing ideas visually requires teachers and learners to think in new ways--recognizing patterns, making associations between ideas, and making sense of the parts of an idea and how they come together to form a meaningful whole (see Dan Roam's ideas in The Back of the Napkin). Chances are that if a teacher can teach a concept visually (pictures, symbols, flow charts, etc.) they (1) understand it deeply and (2) have developed a clear way of communicating those ideas to a learner. The same is also true of a student learning a new concept. If they can "draw" it, chances are they understand it more deeply than someone who cannot (in some ways this is the same premise behind concept mapping and other similar learning aids, but even concept mapping can rely too much on text at times).

2. Identify pitfalls and help learners avoid them. One critique I had of the instructions I used was that there were a couple of places where I made stupid mistakes (mistakes that, in my pride, I feel like most inexperienced furniture assemblers would make) that could have been prevented with simple reminders or warnings. Most were minor, but one added about an hour onto the project (this is one of the few cases where IKEA might be wise to break it's rule of no text. In fact, because text is so out of place within the overall landscape of IKEA instructions, the very limited use of well placed text could draw attention to critical instructions or reminders). When designing instruction, we need to pay close attention to any pitfalls--meaning those things that could be significant setbacks for a learner--and help them avoid them.

3. Minor mistakes, early in the process can be a good thing. This seems a bit contradictory to my comments in #2 above, but let me explain. There is a Japanese proverb that teaches "You will become clever through your mistakes." I believe that is true, particularly of minor mistakes that occur early in the learning process. Mistakes focus attention, can increase engagement, and when caught, can prevent more major mistakes from occurring later on. Good instruction provides opportunities for minor mistakes to be made early. The very best instructional experiences are designed so that mistakes become clearly apparent to the learner (as opposed to being pointed out externally by a teacher or coach) and then force them to figure out what went wrong. That process of asking "why didn't this work?" yields learning that becomes valuable later on and helps the learner better understand the whole (e.g. How the entire dresser will need to come together. There is a fascinating case study on how this happens among West African apprentice tailors in Jean Lave & Etienne Wenger's book, Situated Learning.

4. Provide a real person when things get unmanageable. Luckily I didn't get to this point with my IKEA assemblies (but last year's swing set nightmare was a different story). But, I knew that if I did reach an impasse, I could call the number on the instructions and a real person would answer. Whether it's faculty office hours, a teaching assistant, a help lab, or a peer mentor, learners need a human that can help with things get tough.

5. Humor is a good thing. Although I dreaded the thought of putting together the furniture all weekend, I started off the project laughing because of images like this one. Just the fact that I smiled a bit at the outset, made me a lot more willing to dig into the project. It's important that we find ways to do that sort of thing with learners, because the honest truth is that the best learning is hard and takes effort. The more we can do to prime the pump and make learning an appropriately enjoyable experience, the better.

I still refuse to enter the front doors of IKEA, despite my wife's efforts to convince me that I'll "love it once I try it." And, I'm still not really looking forward to next Labor Day and putting together another birthday present (I'm banking on a bike with training wheels). But, at least I learned something in the process.

Friday, September 3, 2010

My Assumptions About Learning

I began a new semester of graduate work this week and will be participating in a seminar course exploring learning theory. It should be a nice experience--there are only six of us in the course, we'll be doing some interesting reading, and should have some lively discussions about what learning is and how it happens.

On the first day, Steve Yanchar, the faculty member leading the seminar, did something which I thought was quite useful. He spent about 15 minutes sharing with us what he believes about learning. Steve is one of the most unassuming faculty members I have worked with and it was obvious that this wasn't a case of academic showboating. Rather, he wanted to let us inside his brain for a few minutes so we could better understand his rationale for structuring the seminar in a particular way, one that aligns with his beliefs about learning. He also included in his syllabus for the course, a brief description of his "assumptions about learning." That sort of purposeful, intentional instruction is something I appreciate.

It also made me feel a bit guilty because I realized that I have never sat down and tried to articulate exactly what it is that I believe about learning. Really, answering the questions of "What is learning?" and "How does learning occur?" are the guiding questions for the seminar and I hope to have something a little more polished and thoughtful to say in December. But for now, I thought it useful to try and summarize some of the fundamental assumptions I hold about learning. Here they are in no particular order:

1. Learning involves growth and change. To say that someone has learned something implies that they have been changed in some way. At its core learning involves internal changes wherein knowledge, values, beliefs, or understanding have changed; however, learning is often detected when we observe outward changes in behavior (e.g. the performance of a new skill, the verbal explication of a newly learned concept, etc.). When a person learns, they are a different person in some way; they think, feel, or behave differently.

2. Learning entails some level of risk. Because learning involves change or growth, learners must acknowledge that potential for change exists. Admitting such gaps in knowledge, deficiency in skill, or inexperience is perceived as "risky" because learners often do not wish to appear to be "dumb" or "incompetent." Assuming that risk is a necessary part of the learning process. Until one does, very little learning will occur. Additionally, learning requires an individual to venture into the cognitive unknown where mistakes, failure, and miscues are part of the landscape. Trekking through this space where we struggle, stumble, and fall is a necessary part of the process.

3. Learning improves when learners can make meaningful choices about what and how they learn. Learning requires some sort of active choice on the part of a learner. And, meaningful opportunities to exercise agency increase engagement in the learning process. Consequently, learners are more willing to do the hard work that leads to learning (whether that involves lonely hours in the library, challenging academic dialog with colleagues or otherwise) when they can make some of the choices involved in that process.

4. Learning is improved when it is shared and celebrated. Learning is hardwired into us as humans. I believe it is one of the fundamental purposes of our existence. We are also social creatures. Thus, learning is an inherently social process. I don't wish to discount the necessity of individual study and scholarship; however, at some point the very best learning will always involve some sort of social interaction. Articulating ones learning to an audience deepens the learners thinking, exposes gaps in understanding, and invites the feedback necessary to refine and polish ideas. This "articulation" also includes performances, displays, etc. wherein learned behaviors and skills are shared.

5. Learning is not merely the acquisition of knowledge, rather it is an active and participatory process wherein learners construct new meaning. For a fascinating discussion of these two views of learning see Anna Sfard's work ("On Two Metaphors for Learning and the Dangers of choosing Just One"). While some of learning involves knowledge transfer, learning is more accurately described as the process of becoming a participant in some discourse, activity, or practice. Ultimately, one of the goals of learning is to become a useful and contributing member of some sort of community, be it a city, a professional organization, or family. As a participant in this process, learners have experiences that provide opportunities to change, grow, and adapt in response to those experiences.


I could go on, but it's 4:00 and the sun is shining. These are just some of the key beliefs I hold about learning. You?