Archive for the 'Learning' Category Page 3 of 5



Amateur Education

Locking doors

Public School, Rural America; 12:30 pm

One by one, we file past the teacher-turned-prison-guard. As each of us passed, she engages us in a confirmation ritual. “Work?” “Check.” “Book?” “Check.” That is the last word uttered for one and a half hours. For this period, we must sit silently with heads in books and work, where our mouths are conveniently positioned to be incapable of questioning. We cannot leave—even to seek the help of a teacher. In the only time during the day when most students actually work, we are treated like convicts. We must work (not learn) in the most efficient way possible. We are widgets in the machine of school. We are unwillingly being conscripted into a hostile intervention.

Interventions also happen behind other closed doors—in the justice system:

Intervention: Programs or services that are intended to disrupt the delinquency process and prevent a youth from penetrating further into the juvenile justice system. ~Kentucky Juvenile Justice Advisory Board

For me, this represents the epitome of what it is wrong in public school education—learning is seen as a laborious activity which students must literally be locked into doing. When one intervenes in something, one alters the direction it is heading in. Therefore, the assumption when students are put into intervention is that their learning direction must be altered. This would be fine (many of my peers do need to have intervention in their life/learning direction), except the course is required. No matter the direction of your learning or how well you are doing, you are forced into a silent study period. See where I am going with this? Before I even start school, I am scheduled for an intervention in my learning. The equivalent would be signing up your baby girl for drug rehab 16 years in advance.

Rows of chairs

Step back and consider the way education is approached in the majority of classrooms: as a dreaded task. Complicated assessment patterns are devised to be carrots for students to do their work. Meanwhile, sticks of punishment are given to those who do not do their job. Forced study halls are created in order to ensure we all keep our noses in books, where our voices are conveniently stifled. Of course, this is all done under the principal that students need to be forced to learn.

Wait. There is something wrong with the picture here. Frankly, I think schools are becoming far too business-like. Many of my peers often think of school as unpaid work. Of course, professionalism is continually emphasized as the highest principle for which students must strive. Schools even use the same reward/punishment system as the workplace: good grades = good job = $$$ and failing school = unemployment ≠ $$$. I think this is the core of what is wrong with schools: all students are expected to be professional students. That is, it is expected that we will only learn if we are forced to do so either because we desire the reward (grades) or fear the punishment (failing). In fact, this is setting up students to hate learning.

That might be a dangerous accusation, but I think it is an ultimately true one. After all, students are treated as if they already do hate learning. Grades, forced study times, detentions, and graduation requirements are all safeguards built to force students into learning. My philosophy is that if you treat a problem, there will soon be a problem; this is a self-fulfilling prophecy. By treating students as if we hate and will avoid learning at all costs, we will hate and avoid learning at all costs.

Naturally, the alternative is to encourage amateur learning: learning which is done for the love of it rather than for some distant paycheck. The argument against this is that students will not learn the skills they need to be successful citizens. I vastly disagree for the simple reason that every young child wants to grow up to be a successful citizen. Nobody is born hating learning—they grow to hate it through successively being treated as if they should hate it. No child is born thinking I am bad at math—they think that after being told it many times (in different words). Think of it like this: there is only so much education which can be packed into 12 years of school. What if instead of trying to build students the perfect toolbox, schools taught students to make their own tools? If students are never taught to hate/fear learning, they will not shy away from learning opportunities. The teachers and resources are available for life-long, anytime learning; students must simply have their original love of learning preserved.

Curiosity

Imagine: Peter is a student in a self-directed learning environment. In the primary grades, he takes a wide mix of classes, primarily due to peer pressure and recommendations from friends/family. In these classes, he learns the basics: reading, mathematics fundamentals, grammar, and how to research. As he moves up in the grades, he narrows his focus upon writing, eventually phasing out mathematics classes. Throughout the process, no class or work is forced upon him: he is given the options and selects the choices for himself. Consequently, since learning is never treated as a hated activity, he never learns to hate learning but instead preserves the innate love of it. Down the line, Peter has written a best-selling novel and is trying to invest the money he earned. As any intelligent person would, he is trying to figure out the best option from the choices banks have presented him with. To be clear, Peter never learned about exponential equations or compound interest in school. However, because he still loves to learn he simply taps into Google and finds the resources necessary for him to evaluate the choices. Due to Peter being an amateur learner, he actively seeks out opportunities to learn, even though nobody is forcing him to.

The rational for not encouraging self directed learning is that simply packing students with as much knowledge possible (no matter the cost) is most efficient. However, the problem arises with the information that students do not get into their memory: since most of them will end up fearing/despising learning they will not add anything to it after school. Meanwhile, students who pursue learning on their own terms may well know less information on their exit from formal schooling. However, that information is not static: they are readily adding to it through additional learning. The traditional model has been to treat students like hard drives: packing them with 12 TB of knowledge before all cables are cut. I’d rather get out of school with only 1 GB of knowledge and a connection to the internet—at least then I can continually add to that store. Schools must make a choice: do they want to try to stuff as much learning as possible down students’ throats or do they want to give students a hunger for learning?

I don’t want to be a professional student; I want to be an amateur learner.

  1. Photo by Still Burning on Flickr
  2. Photo by smallestbones on Flickr
  3. Photo by Marcus Vegas on Flickr

Where do we draw the line?

Draw the lineI’ve just come out of a fairly quick skype call with Jen/Injenuity… I seem to have been in contact with her quite a bit recently. In the chat she put forward a few interesting questions, one stood out to me in particular. It brought up something I surprisingly hadn’t thought about before: “Does it seem strange to you to associate with a bunch of adults?” Strangely, the answer is no. When I think about it and put it in context, I realize that yes, it is a bit weird, but it still doesn’t bother me, and I don’t see why it should. Just because there is an age gap doesn’t mean that there should be a conversation barrier there too (of course there can be if you want there to be).

One of the other questions she asked which stuck a chord was, now that I think about it not really a question, more of an observation - “and I noticed on your blog that you mentioned you’re the only one of your friends that is interested in this stuff… you really haven’t connected with anyone in your area”. This is sadly very true. Student ed tech types are lone wolfs, we just generally don’t come in packs; I suppose what she was asking here ties in with the previous question. Online I need to be in contact with adults in order to be a part of the networks that I am so fond of because I can’t connect with a lot of other students. This is mainly due to the fact that it is outside of what the average student normally does online. The “you really haven’t connected with anyone in your area” part sort of answers the question that she asked right at the start of the chat “why are you up so late” (it was almost midnight at the time… it’s now almost 1:30am). I’m up so late because I really can’t seem to find many people in Scotland who are interested in this, especially people my age. So, if I want to actively converse, I have to be around when all the Americans are out to play. I guess I’m a wannabe American from the hours of 11 pm till whatever am. Actually, that’s a lie, I’m happy being 100% Scottish no matter what the time zone I end up living in.

The main thought that is running through my head when I look back over all these questions is, where do we draw the line? Or even, do we draw a line? What I mean in this respect is if we were to achieve our goal, if we were to have technology (in particular web 2.0 tools) widely used within education then would teachers actually welcome their students to contact them? And converse in the way I do with the adults and teachers I am connected with over my twitter network and similar things online. The reason I find this a difficult question to answer is that although in a traditional school environment this type of communication (especially that outside of the school walls) is discouraged (at least on a relatively large scale) we are proposing change to this system, and a big change at that. Does this mean that the principles associated with the current system should be changed? Or I should probably say, adapted? Should the door be left closed to student - teacher communication both in and out of school? Should it be left open? Or should there be some sort of compromise?

Personally I really can’t answer this. It may be because I’m not a teacher, and I don’t really know how I’d feel about the students in my class contacting me, and hanging around in the places on the web I have found so sacred at times. And let’s face it, there’s always going to be at least that 1 student sitting in that class that gets on your nerves that bit more than the rest of them… does this mean they would do the same within your own personal networks? And should all this mean that a line needs to be drawn somewhere with the use of these tools (at least in the classroom)?

So, back to Jen’s original question - no I really don’t mind networking and communicating with adults and teachers. It can spark up a good conversation from time to time (one which can be difficult to have with many teenagers my age), besides, it also proves that teachers actually don’t live in school. The question I’m now left wondering about though is this: would you be comfortable sharing your networks if there were more of us around? Because if/when classes of students become connected with you it may not necessarily be for the same reasons I connect with you. It would be a part of their classroom learning, and students don’t always participate in the way they should. In saying that though, I’m assuming you were comfortable with it in the first place...

Here’s the audio! - Call to Jen

The Bass Player

  1. draw the line by alfarman on Flickr

What is learning?

Learning is the process in which a person consciously takes their self farther away from ignorance. Ignorance is the lack of knowledge, the inability to understand something without guidance from an outside force. Ignorance can also be the willful act of not learning. As Immanuel Kant said, “Sapere Aude!” (1784 Kant). Dare to know. To take charge of one’s own learning, or the admission of ignorance and the want to change, cannot be done without courage and self-confidence.

Who are these outside forces that guide the ignorant? Those are teachers. In Modern Education, teachers take charge of our learning for 13 years, meeting our individual needs, and educating us in the subjects that have formed the basis for our world. Our teachers become some of the most important and revered authority figures in our lives, next to our parents. We learn from our teachers.

In general, learning is a popular thing. Students learn. It’s our traditional role. Books, and now the wonderful world of the Internet, serve our understanding. They satisfy our requirements. Teachers are generally eager to teach. Teachers are the guardians of knowledge.

However, learning is different from thinking. A teacher can teach and teach but they can never force a student to take the plunge into the vague pit that is critical, applied and abstract thought. A student (with the big brains that come packed onto the human label) can enter in the methodical algorithms that make it possible to pass for a very intelligent person. Yes, they may even be admired by all the right people, and regarded as a prime candidate for all the right schools in all the top places. But the real question is, do they actually think?Original Art by Lindsea

In the past, the leap from learning (and knowing) to thinking has been accepted as a dangerous thing. To all oppressed people, learning—accepting facts and dogmas—helped them survive, but thinking got them killed in an instant. My own fair sex learned all about what it had to do in order to live in a world lead by men. Until we started thinking, that is. The key factor in suppression of growth is knowledge without thought. The collective perception of a group of people jumping from merely learning to actually thinking is what spurs revolutions. In it’s purest form it is change.

As I mentioned before, the teachers in our lives have been pervasive authority figures. They have taught us all they could within their own human limitations. As authority figures, they have the responsibility to educate their students (give them knowledge that will help them survive beyond school), and also help them think critically, applicability, and abstractly. Being the catalyst to the thoughts of students is the most important role of a teacher, because, again, it is what changes the world.

Under what conditions can teachers retain their control, while still teaching all they can and most importantly promoting thought at every opportunity? What can lead students away from the dangerous trap of algorithms and into the belief-questioning probe of thought?

The teaching methods of “don’t ask questions, learn!” or “don’t argue, believe!” will absolutely discourage thought. But certainly complete freedom wouldn’t guide students toward thought, either. Total anarchy is never the answer, I’ve found through personal experience, because if learning is as I described (requiring guidance form an external force), then in order for students to learn, the teacher needs to draw on despotism. (A despotism that instead claims the gain of it’s charges, not its own personal gain.) No, I believe the best answer is, “Question, think, explore and dissent at your own free will, but listen (and obey)!”. A student cannot refuse the direct orders from a teacher to learn, but as a thinker s/he must question all the knowledge that s/he is accepts into his/her mind from the teacher or any other external source.

If in learning, a student applies critical thought and decides that that particular piece of information goes against their belief system and all ideas of truth, then I believe the student is still obligated to learn it. Ignorance is the willful act of not learning, and with ignorance there cannot come knowledge. This leads to the logical conclusion that without knowledge there cannot come thought, and without thought there cannot come change. The idea of a generation that does not fight to change what it sense to be wrong in the world is one that literally sends shivers down my spine.

But I won’t ever have to worry about that, because it is impossible. If we loosely use the analogy of the teachers being the powerful bourgeoisie and the students being the lead masses of proletariats, then we can see that because the bourgeoisie seek to take control over the proletariats, without providing a forum to speak through, the natural thing for the proletariats to do is join together. Once united, the now connected proletariats will now have “improved means of communication…created by Modern Industry [Modern Education]” (1848 Marx). Teachers created Modern Education, and through that, the students have united in order to voice their opinions. I don’t need to point out that Students 2.0 is a great example of what I have described.

In classic education, students’ voices were never fully heard because they were divided. Now, in neo-education, we retain the authority of the teacher, while making sure to provide opportunities for the roles of student and teacher to get lost in the greater goal of learning, and later, thinking; and second, to actually take into consideration the thoughts produced from those exercises. To teach in a neo-educational environment is to truly allow for and encourage thinking in the classroom, which means to lose the conventional boundaries of classic education. It means to obey the students’ wishes as much as enforce the teachers own. It is teachers and students learning, and thinking together, in a way acknowledges the connections and unity formed between the students and the world at large. Neo-education promotes learning both at it’s most basic, and most complex levels.

  1. Original artwork by Lindsea

Calculated Risks

I see it around me every day, and it kills me; the averted eyes and hesitant words create awkward silences, and it becomes obvious that almost every student in that math class wants to disappear. It kills me because I’m not like that . . . anymore. I can tell you when it all changed for me, too.

All my life, I always wanted to know why I needed math, and when no one answered it to my satisfaction year after year, I gave up wanting one. I gave up wanting to know at all. I gave up my sense of curiosity and settled for crunching numbers. This is a story that most students share.

We are taught the “Print and Puke” method of education, and we perform outstandingly. Teachers hand out the sheets and grade on the curve, assuring that most squeak by, and come time for the test, students puke up all the cut-and-paste puzzle pieces they were force-fed in previous weeks, and arrange it neatly for a passing grade. Most go on to do well enough, but some end up feeling cheated out of something, like I did.

As a student, you are expected to pass a test more important than the final, but most find out too late. Standardized Tests have been taught as how to pass the test itself rather than learning the material expected. It took me a long time to realize that “Print and Puke” wasn’t going to work with these. I had been rendered helpless. Communication skills and analytical thinking are the only skills that standardized tests look at, disguised as English and math. No one was really testing my grammar usage, or my ability to convert fractions, and this went against everything I had been taught. The only option was to be re-taught.

Soon after, a whole new world opened up. Math isn’t about the numbers at all, and that is the hardest idea I’ve ever had to accept. Once I began to ignore the numbers, I saw the concepts behind them. I have learned to appreciate the creativity required to perform certain processes. I feel the need to say this again; math isn’t about the numbers. It promotes the wonderful skill called analytical thinking: the process of drawing conclusions from information given. (Is that not the simplest way to summarize mathematics?) Don’t hate math because it makes you think about your world, that is the only way you’ll find something you really love. Finding that makes all the sweat you put into it worthwhile.

When teachers say that we will use this skill every day, most shrug it off, reading “skill” as “numbers”. They sleep through the lesson and miss the most important part. I hate to say it, but those teachers are right. We must think. Whether reading a book, following politics, doing research or running a company, you have to think for yourself. Don’t just look at the world. Instead, understand it and use that to your advantage. “Print and Puke” may get you the A, but it cannot compare to the experience of learning a new concept, and genuinely wanting to know more.

Students and Educators, the best you can do to get that WOW moment is to entertain your whims. Passion breeds passion! Find someone who loves something you want to learn to love. Go up to a stranger and ask “Why is this so cool to you?” Better yet, be that someone. The quest for knowledge never ends, it just changes direction. Be fearless with your education.

  1. Photo by sadaiche on Flickr

Average Just Doesn’t Cut it Anymore

To a perfect stranger, I am an overachiever.

I’m taking three AP classes (after dropping AP Stats because math and I are not a good combination) and two semester electives as my senior course-load. I’m president of my school’s Asian-American Club. I am also involved in my creative writing’s class literary magazine, National Honor Society, AP Student Tutoring, Link Crew, and African-Latino Club. I volunteer at the library on Sundays, I sang in the school chorus from 6th grade to 11th, and I played piano like every Asian kid in the U.S. (the ones who weren’t already saddled with violin).

Through the eyes of my parents, I’m the epitome of an ABC failure. I don’t practice piano anymore, I don’t play a sport (trust me—I’m doing it for the team, I cannot walk in a straight line without tripping), and I don’t have a 4.0 GPA.

Or maybe I should rephrase my first statement. To the perfect adult stranger—one who might not be up to date with today’s ever-inflating standards of students—I may seem like an overachiever when in fact, I’m not.

Not compared to my friends and classmates.

Sit at my lunch table and you’ll find a talented mix of students from all different kinds of backgrounds and ethnicities: two National Merit Semifinalists, one secretary of the National Honor Society, three all-state musicians, two star leads in our previous school productions, an editor of the school newspaper as well as director of a local amateur teenage-run theater group, and a partridge in a freaking pear tree.

Everyone at my table is taking three AP classes, if not more. Almost all participate in Link Crew or National Honor Society.

(Disclaimer: this might be a biased/limited overview since I’m basing this on personal experience and I take mostly honors/AP classes. Additionally, a number of the students in my classes are children of Cornell or Ithaca College professors/staff.)

The truth is that being an average student doesn’t really cut it anymore. It used to be that if you get A’s and B’s, you can probably get into a decent school. Or that if you’re valedictorian, you can pretty much write yourself a ticket to any school.

Nowadays, it’s not enough just to get good grades. You have to play an instrument and two sports, volunteer, get straight A’s, attain a 1850+ SAT score, and hold some office in student council or club to even be considered many colleges—whether college admission officers would like to admit it or not. With more and more students applying to college each year, you have Cornell turning away 3 out of 4 valedictorians.

With the rise of their increasing expectations, there will also be the rise of students who will try to meet them. Just from a casual Google search of “Student overachievers” will result in a number of articles about the rise of overachieving students—students who feel like they need to be “well-rounded” in order to get accepted to a good college in order to be successful in life, as Lindsea has also covered in her post “One Sweet Dream”.

While being ambitious and responsible is great, I can’t help but feel bad for students like the ones depicted in Alexandra Robbin’s The Overachievers: The Secret Lives of Driven Kids. Thankfully, while my school is pretty competitive for a public school, it’s nowhere near as insane.

Although everyone I know is applying to at least one or two Ivy or Public Ivy league schools, many are also submitting applications to state colleges. Community colleges, however, are still looked down upon—just the mention of our local community college will be met with ridicule, even though it is one of the top community colleges in the country. We’re accustomed to high standards, although I sometimes wonder if we’re able to keep up with the ever increasing standards placed upon us by Above.

I’m currently happy and busy with all my extracurriculars. I participate in them because my friends are members and I sincerely enjoy those activities. I do them for myself, not because I’m trying to impress a Dean of Admissions. Too many of my peers join clubs (National Honor Society being a common culprit) only to have something to jot down on their college application.

Would you rather do something you enjoy or something that would impress others? Have you ever committed yourself to something simply to boost your resume?

  1. Photo by Aaron Michael Brown on Flickr
  2. Photo by Alexandra Lee on Flickr





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