What is the essence of "education?"

Indianapolis Colts wide receiver Austin Collie was knocked unconscious in a recent game against the Philadelphia Eagles.  The story ended better than expected and Collie sat out a week's worth of practices and the following Sunday's game.  Nonetheless, it was a frightening reminder of the violent nature of football and the risk players assume when they step onto the field.  The NFL has tried to find ways to protect players (penalties for "unsportsmanlike" play, fines for particularly violent hits, etc.).  But, this has raised interesting questions about the nature of football and how much "violence" can reasonably be removed from the game while preserving the essence of the game.  The PGA was faced with a similar dilemma a few years ago when Casey Martin appealed to the association to be able to use a golf cart on the tour.  His case, which eventually was heard by the U.S. Supreme Court, hinged on whether "walking" was a fundamental part of the game of golf.

Situations like these are interesting because they force us to examine a practice (golf, football, etc.) and determine what the fundamental and cores aspects of the practice are.  In short, how much can we change about a thing, be it sewing, driving, cooking or otherwise, before it is a different thing?  

With the rapid pace at which education is advancing, developing, and evolving, those of us who care about learning will be faced with this question more and more.  And, it seems to be at the very core of many of the debates being waged in education today from online/distance education (does it count as education if the students aren't all in the same classroom?) , to school vouchers (is it education if the government doesn't dictate what happens?), to teacher education (can someone who didn't go through a formal teacher training program really educate our children?).

Thinking about these and other similar questions seems important because it requires us to separate ancillary trappings from those core principles that define education as a meaningful process.  And, it seems like a really useful way of keeping us focused on the part of education that really matters--human beings and what they are learning.

So, what is the essence of education?  I'm not sure that it has anything to do with buildings, teachers, technology, or administrative structures.  Those things can and generally are part of an educational environment and are likely to facilitate a number of pretty desirable of outcomes. So, what are the aspects of education that cannot be altered?  Some things I would include on my list

• Environments and experiences that change those involved in fundamental ways.  I don't just mean the acquiring of knowledge.  What I'm talking about is a change in the identity of the participants (sometimes minor, sometimes major) and a parallel change in the community of practitioners.  If this is true, a lot of what passes for education really isn't.


• Relationships, interaction, and joint participation around a common purpose.  This doesn't mean that education always has to take place in the presence (virtual or face-to-face) of others.  Sometimes the relationship is with someone's ideas (a book, recorded lecture, piece of art, etc.) or the interaction is with an artifact.  But, education is inherently social because we interact and participate with people or things people have created or produced.  


• Support and resources that facilitate the pursuit of individual goals for learning & growth.  But, the individual goals should align with or flow from the common purpose shared across the community.  

For me that's about it, which means that I see "education" happening in formal school settings, in businesses, on athletic teams, within musical ensembles, and lots of other places.  In fact, those of us who are involved in more formal or traditional forms of education could learn something by examining the learning that goes on outside of our institutions.

 

Remembering the "invisible" members of school communities

At a Provo School Board meeting earlier this week there was a recognition award presented to Carmen Duarte, who is a child nutrition cook at Farrer Elementary School.  It was a pretty simple presentation--a district official read a short nomination submitted by someone at the school, the Board shook Carmen's hand, and she was given some sort of small gift bag.  And, I would imagine that this sort of thing happens in school board meetings all over the country.  But, what happened next was really quite profound for me.  The president of the Board, almost non-chalantly, asked Carmen if she would like to say anything (I think expecting her to decline).  Carmen hesitated initially and then, in broken English and fighting back tears, said something like "Thank you.  I love working with the children.  I love my job."  Then she sat down.

It was simple, but I was touched and left having been reminded of some important things

1.  Schools are made up of more than teachers and students.  And, some of the things that go on behind the scenes--in the library, on the playground, in the cafeteria--are just as important as what happens between teachers and students in a classroom.

2.  Recognizing and celebrating good work is a powerful thing for communities.  Something important happened when Carmen was recognized.  I haven't quite figured out what it was, but something occurred when she was publicly recognized and then had a chance to vocalize how she felt about her work in her school.  I think it was a way of our all being reminded of why we care about students and do the things we do.  It might have been as important as any business item that was addressed later on in the "important" part of the meeting.  I wish we could have had 20 minutes to hear some of Carmen's stories about working in her school and to hear from some of the students and parents who have benefitted from her work.  

3.  People who care about students can make a difference in schools, regardless of their job.  I doubt that the job description for custodians, cooks, secretaries, etc. include much language about teaching or learning.  But, I'd bet the farm that students at Farrer learn from Carmen and have a different experience because of their interactions with her.  

I was glad I was there on Tuesday.

Learning is risky

Back in September I outlined a number of assumptions that I hold about learning.  One of those ideas was that learning entails some level of risk.  At the time, it was a foggy idea that sounded interesting, so I included it in the post.  But, since then I've continued to chew on it and more and more it seems like an important idea.  

An example that comes to mind immediately is of a child learning to ride a bike.  At some point the training wheels have to come off, which in most cases means at least one or two skinned knees.  While training wheels, riding on the back lawn, and having mom or dad jog along side the bike can move a child towards competent bike riding, there comes a time when further development isn't possible without a higher level of risk-taking.  The same is true of learning a new language--books from the library, Rosetta Stone, and online tutorials will help, but to become proficient, I have to actually speak to other human beings and risk looking stupid.  The good news is that eventually I'll figure it out and get better.

There are examples of this in more formal academic settings as well.  First-year writing courses almost always employ peer reviews or writing groups where students read and critique one another's writing.  While an argument could be made that the feedback students get from peers is often useless (e.g. hollow statements of "great job" or "you need a semicolon here."), the principle still holds true that the point is for students to make their writing public and get feedback--that means the risk of having someone tell you that you have been unclear, boring, etc.  And, of course, scholarly work is frought with risk (submitting papers to peer-reviewed journals, sharing ideas at conferences, etc.).  But, these "risky" behaviors lead to refined ideas and improved academic work.  Our "service" assignments on campus can also lead to tremendous learning as pointed out by Gary Daynes in a recent blog post.   Gary argues that it is those assignments that we are unprepared or slightly unqualified for that lead to the most meaningful learning and growth.  But, again, there is the chance that we'll (at least initially) be viewed as ignorant or incompetent and that scares us (and those that make the assignments as Gary articulates very well).

Aside from my own thinking on this issue, I would argue that there is plenty of supporting evidence from the academic literature including Carol Dweck's work on intelligence (mindset), constructivist descriptions of learning that emphasize the role of social negotiation, and ideas from management literature regarding the role of transitional phases in organizational learning.

I'm convinced that most organizations don't take the right kinds of designed and thoughtful risks necessary for really great learning to occur.