Tag Archives: failure

Learning, Personal Growth, Teaching

Back to School Rules

2 Comments

One day last year I arrived at school a little early to read with second graders. I slipped into the classroom quietly and sat on the edge of a desk, appreciating the opportunity to eavesdrop on the group who were gathered around the teacher considering guidelines for a project they were about to begin. One of the girls slipped away from the group to whisper in my ear. “Mr. Boomsma, you’re not supposed to sit on the desks.”

I thanked her profusely and immediately changed my seating arrangement. I’m always a little embarassed when I unintentionally break a classroom rule but I enjoy how the kids try to help me stay out of trouble.

Rules are good things. I recently happened to read “Ten Rules for Students, Teachers, and Life.” These rules have a somewhat uncertain beginning that appears to involve John Cage, Sister Corita Kent, and may even Bertram Russell. We do know that Sister Kent used them in for an art class she taught and they became the official art department rules for the college of LA’s Immaculate Heart Convent–her alma mater.  Since I know how difficult it can be to know and remember lots of rules, let me share just three.

  1. The duty of a student is to pull everything out of your teacher and your fellow students.
  2. The duty of a teacher is to pull everything out of your students.
  3. Nothing is a mistake. There is no win and no fail. There is only make.

Imagine how much our classrooms and schools could change if we could follow them. We perhaps need to expound a bit on rule number three. Here we are talking about the learning environment and process. The ability to make mistakes is an important part of learning and we need to learn and allow that ability. The rule is, I think, leading us to the understanding that a mistake doesn’t equal a failure.

Of course I’m not proposing we allow students (or adults) to sit on desks. But a good place to start education in any form is to define the role of the teacher and students–and the fundamental way we will “make” learning.

Learning, Personal Growth

“Sorry, I didn’t see you!”

Leave a comment

The page and site I’m going to recommend is actually part of the Motorcycle Safety Foundation’s website… but you don’t have to ride a motorcycle to benefit from the information. You’ll learn one more thing about how your mind (and in this case, eyes) work. We’re actually talking about what used to be called “target fixation” — a term used in World War II bomber/fighter pilot training. The essence of the phenomena is that you will tend to go where you are looking and, if you focus intently on the target, you won’t see obstacles and hazards. Pilots were known to crash into their targets.

There’s lots of application here–from driving to managing. Who has not known a manager who was so focused on accomplishing a goal that he or she ignored circumstances and information? There can be a downside to focus when it becomes obsession–we start to “lose” our peripheral vision after as little as 20 seconds of staring at a single point. For a more technical explanation look up “Troxler Effect” and then commit to blinking and shifting your gaze while driving–and being aware of your environment when managing.

But first experience it by visiting this page: MAF Motion Induced Blindness

Learning, Personal Growth, Teaching

“I’m sorry I’m not better at this…”

1 Comment

During a recent visit to a third grade art class a budding young artist finished her assigned work before the class was over. Since project work is often finished at different paces, students who complete their assignment with the teacher’s approval are then allowed to “play” individually with other projects of their chosing. This young lady requested that I sit across from her “So I can draw a picture of you.”

This process involved a number of different colored crayons and certainly included some artistic license. I am wearing glasses in the result, but my clothing was adapted to include a turtleneck shirt. “I’m not really very good at drawing necks,” was the explanation. I chuckled at the thought of the mall artists who will do sketches will you wait. They usually work in silence with a small audience behind them and you get to watch the audience’s reactions as the image forms.

In this cause the artist’s reactions were apparent because she kept a running commentary going. Much of it was actually a series of apologies over the parts she had trouble with or the goofs she made.  “I’m sorry but I can’t draw hands very good.” (My hands are raised as if I’m being held up, but I think I’m actually supposed to be waving.) I would have to say that I look much more muscular than I realized and have very square shoulders. Of course I countered her continued self-deprecation with gentle compliments and made sure she knew I was approving of her efforts. She was, after all, being quite professional–studying me with a trained eye, then attempting to record what she saw with blunted crayons.

I admired her courage. 

But I also felt a deep sadness because she keep repeating her sense that her work wasn’t good. Or at least not good enough. I suppose that makes her an achiever, but at what point will she give up and decide she isn’t an artist? I know I learned long ago that I’m not “artistic.” I’m sure I would not be able to draw a very good picture of her–at least that’s true  if “good” means “accurate.”

As a student of education and learning, I long ago became an opponent of the popular “self esteem” movement that suggests education is all about making kids feel good about themselves. It’s not that I’m against kids developing self-worth. But as my experience with this artist demonstrates, when we try to hand it to them, we actually are taking it away. They want to earn it.

I don’t think we should deprive them of that opportunity. Somewhere between giving all positive messages and constant criticism there’s a balance. That it’s hard to find doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try–any more than the fact that my little friend “can’t draw hands” means she shouldn’t try. We can learn a lot from her. If I’d tried to convince her she’d drawn great hands, she’d have known I was not being honest.

Can we agree with her that my hands “don’t look right” without making her feel like she’s a failure?

Perhaps more to the point, can we face our own errors without considering ourselves a failure? I usually find one student in my adult classes that I refer to affectionately as “my little over-achiever.” Math anxiety and test anxiety have their roots in the fact that we are not taught how to fail. Somewhere along the way we forget there’s process.

Let’s not be afraid to value process and effort. They are as much a part of our self-worth as are our accomplishments.

One of the things I’ve had to learn about working with kids is that it’s best not to read too much into what they say and do. It’s tempting, but I really think she just wanted to draw me–that was her goal and the desired result. She gave the drawing to me when it was finished. I approved it, but I’m not even sure my approval was important to her.

But that drawing is very important to me. And it’s hanging where I have to pass it every day because I want to be reminded of these many things. I’m not ready to start drawing portraits, but if she can try things, so can I. Getting results is great, but enjoying the process is pretty awesome too.

Oh, I also kinda like that the final touch to her masterpiece is the angel she drew sitting on my shoulder.

Learning, Teaching

But Do I Have To?

Leave a comment
Do we have to learn this?

When I’m teaching real estate courses one of the questions I get asked frequently is “Are we going to have to do this in practice/real life?”  (It might not be a surprise that it most often comes up during math exercises.)

It’s a good question, of course. It’s also a hard one to answer honestly because sometimes “it depends.” So I will often put my tongue in my cheek and reply “Yes, at least once–when you take the final exam at the end of the course.”

I recently finished reading a series of articles on student engagement and motivation that I thought created several important perspectives in relation to that frequently asked question. I was attracted to the series based on a teaser suggesting it’s important to “teach your students how to fail.” Now that’s an interesting concept–and one I’m still exploring.

But what followed was  the suggestion to “teach students to value learning, not performance.” That statement forced me to wheel my chair back and stare at the screen for a while. I admire the simple elegance of that suggestion.

For years we’ve met at the altar of an adult learning model that suggested we (educators/trainers) only have value when we are involved in “performance-based” training. Our lesson plans have to have “action words” in those behavioral objectives.  “At the completion of this course, the student will be able to…”

I remember having my cage rattled quite a few years ago by an instructor who suggested “writing behavioral learning objectives is arrogant and presumptuous–what right do you have to decide what students are going to learn in your classes?” It’s probably fair to label him an extremist, but he makes an interesting point. As if to reinforce his point, I’ve had a number of occasions when a former student has contacted me and thanked me for something he or she learned in my class–and I don’t remember teaching it.

Our obsession with performance (including how students perform on tests) may have some unintended results. I listened to a student at the start of a recent class introduce herself with the observation she “was tired of taking classes and learning.” I thought it was a very sad statement. But I also think she’s wrong. She’s not tired of learning. I think she’s tired of being taught.

Too often our systems of education remove the joy of learning. If we can’t figure out how to put it back in, we ought to at least look at some ways to allow it!

 

 

To read the articles mentioned visit Teachers Training International.