I am not sure how legitimate our habit of pigeonholing each decade or generation is, but it does happen and there is a lot of discussion about the Millennial generation right now. This presentation was particularly provocative. Does anyone care to discuss it with me? Does he have it right? Is there any assumptions that are wrong here? Needs all the time I can give it.
The author Jack London is not someone with whom I share a great deal of philosophical affinity. His nihilism stings my mind’s nostrils. But he was a good writer, and many passages from his works can work on my own mind. I was reading one of my favorite works of his with some friends yesterday and was struck by the following few sentences.
“This man did not know cold. Possibly all the generations of his ancestry had been ignorant of cold, of real cold, of cold one hundred and seven degrees below freezing-point. But the dog knew; all its ancestry knew, and it had inherited the knowledge (Jack London, To Build a Fire).”
As this is not a lit crit blog, but rather one on teaching, let me relate the thoughts on teaching that came to me from this passage. London seems to exalt in the fact that the dog’s instincts are clearer or more compelling than the man’s knowledge. And this is tied to generational knowing. Dog instinct, inherited through the parent’s genes, is powerful in its consistency. A dog breed is behaviorally consistent from generation to generation.
But man, though connected to past generations, is dependent upon memory rather than instinct. He knows what he knows by what others older than himself have taught him. This makes curricular issues poignant. Whenever a change is made to the path of learning, all the strength of the past is weakened by the new path. Ideological change inevitably brings such curricular changes. This is particularly noticeable in the area of language study.
As the philosophy of language study has changed, the path by which a given language is to be taught has become less clear. And as several generations have now passed since the great upheaval in language occurred in the early 20th century (see T.S. Eliot’s work on this here), many currently teaching language have to teach it the way they were taught it and they were not taught it in the old paths, but what were considered new in their own youth. This weakens teaching.
I asked one Spanish teacher if she finds herself teaching as much English grammar as she does Spanish in a day’s work. She was quick and clear that such was not only so, but necessary. A loss of trust in rules has brought us to fewer and fewer dependable, generational rules of language. Look at this chart.
Most students are no longer taught such rules of punctuation, but rather are coached on usage from within a given written passage. In other words, rather than passing down rules of usage from generation to generation, students today are taught in somewhat of an historical vacuum. They have no anchor in the past with which to moor their current yacht of language. As a result, most of my writing students think an essay is just a really long text message.
The implications are far reaching and beyond this short blog. But it is worth contemplation. It is also a great argument for slowing down the rate of experimentation and change that is rampant in modern educational curriculum practice. Every time you change something, you weaken the past. Dogs know its too cold; why don’t intelligent human beings?
In my last post I set forth the basic steps involved in what has been called the Mimetic Sequence. It is the normal means for presenting a student with an idea that they can hopefully grasp to the point of embodying. In short review, the steps were as follows:
- Pre-presentation Stage – the student’s mind is prepared to receive a new idea
- Presentation Stage – the idea is presented in types, giving them as least two but hopefully more types to work with
- Comparison Stage – the teacher and student compare the types for similarities and dissimilarities.
- Explanation Stage – the teacher determines to what degree the student understands the idea by having them put the idea in their own words, either written or oral.
- Application Stage – the student seeks to apply the idea to their life.
Much of my teaching experience comes in the Humanities, where the ideas tend to be large and take a lifetime to apply. But the Mimetic Sequence is relevant to all subjects, at all ages, in all aspects of instruction. It is integral to moving the student from simple knowledge (knowing facts) to the deeper more permanent mode of understanding the truth revealed by the connection of facts to each other.
So, as promised, let me set out a simple plan for teaching an idea. I have recently had Juniors in high school consider the idea of prejudice with me through a presentation of the novel by J.F. Cooper, The Deerslayer in English class. The following were the steps through which we considered this idea.
- In our first lesson together, I presented the students with several instances from the news of prejudicial thinking. Some were racially based, some were political or economic. For the most part, these were things the students knew from their own attention to the news. We discussed why prejudice is a problem from several angles: logic, socially, politically, religiously. I then ended the lesson by stating that our class would be reading a novel that dealt at length with the idea of prejudice.
- Given the size of the novel, the second stage, that of Presenting, took several weeks. As we read the novel in class, I regularly would point out how every character in the story demonstrated various forms of prejudice, whether it was racial, cultural, or religious. It helps when the idea being discussed is embodied in the lives of even fictional characters as they are presented (stories are powerful teachers).
- Especially as the novel came to a close, we regularly discussed the various character’s virtues and vices, comparing and contrasting their choices. This comparison stage is a very powerful way to distinguish the nuances of an idea. For instance, the racial prejudice was almost over the top in the novel, but the gender prejudices were more subtle and yet clear.
- The student was able to express the idea in two ways. First, they kept a journal throughout the reading in which they voiced their responses to the actions of the characters, explaining in particular how the prejudices of the novel were similar and dissimilar to our own time. Secondly, they were given a series of essay prompts to write on, most of which revolved around prejudicial thinking.
- The last stage of Application will take the student the rest of his life, but even during and right after the novel, class discussion and hallway banter indicated that the idea had been clarified and pressed home to the soul of many of the students. They were seeing the idea more clearly and trying to live differently in light of the truth learned.
The fun of teaching is to creatively take this basic sequence of learning and apply it to all subjects. Every lesson has an idea, a unifying principle that takes the content and makes it join into the whole of truth. Seeking those ideas is one of the basic joys of teaching and learning.
But there is a third column…
This post continues the discourse I began a few posts ago on Adler’s Three Columns of learning. I am listing all related posts at the bottom of that first post, so it would be the default starting point if you are just joining.
We have already established that acquiring knowledge is the beginning, but the not the end of education. And it was stated that in acquiring “facts” we naturally yearn to make sense of them, to connect them. This is the natural progress of Content toward the second column of learning, Ideas. Ideas connect discreet facts into patterns of meaning called Ideas. Bringing a student to an idea is perhaps the most significant act of teaching. We actually don’t wish to bring a student to an idea, as in some sort of tour through an exhibition of “ideas” that are out there, but rather to bring our students to embody the ideas that bring meaning to life.
Ideas are what make education move from the impersonal notion of fact (there is some piece of truth lying over there in the road, or being spoken of in this classroom) to a personal relationship with the truths discovered. That is the notion of embodying truth; of becoming different because truth is not simply acknowledge, but has become applied to the way in which the student moves in and understands his world to be.
This is much deeper and more difficult education than simple First column learning. The teacher must follow somewhat of a careful pathway to bring a student to embody an idea. It does not happen in any singular act, but comes from a series of experiences and engagements with an idea and its content. The Circe Institute has outlined this pathway, naming it the Mimetic Sequence. The following is a bald outline of the Sequence. My next post will exemplify the process for clarity’s sake.
For a student to grasp an idea, the following basic steps must be included in the lesson he is being led through.
|Stages||Act||Notes||Move to next stage when…|
|Prepare the students to contemplate the idea by making them aware of what they already know about the idea||Moving from known to unknown, building on last thing studied, why is this being studied, what is the compelling question||The student is attentive to the idea|
|Present Types of the idea||Finding at least two, preferably more types of the idea, especially helpful are opposites||The student has seen at least two but hopefully more clear types of the idea|
|Compare the types with each other||Teacher and student should converse about the things that are similar and disimilar and how they all reveal the idea||Enough types have been compared to hopefully bring about an “ah ha” moment|
|Ask the student to express the idea in their own words||This can be oral or written, or even through models or artifacts||The student can clearly express the idea; if they can’t go back to Stage 2 or 3|
|Have student use or apply the idea|
In my next post will take these steps and show how they would look in a specific lesson on a given idea.
There is a lot of conversation about the Liberal Arts these days. This is a good thing. In the midst of many reevaluating the Progressive model of men like Dewey, while still holding that the traditional L.A. model does not fit the 21st Century, many seem to be calling for something altogether new. This article about Connecticut College is just one of many I have come by recently. One great result of these discussions in a renewed interest in integrating the curriculum.
If all truth is one, and it is, then anything taught is connected to any other thing taught. The Ancients had that much down pat. As a faculty seeks to cultivate its graduate, it should carefully consider how each part of its program forms that graduate. What unique and necessary aspects of the desired graduate come only or mostly by the study of language? Or math? Or the arts? Given the full range of development best epitomized in the Liberal Arts degree, each course should its piece to the assembling puzzle.
I am not a big fan of the term efficiency. All too often it only succeeds in sucking the humanity out of whatever endeavor it is applied to. But in this case I can argue for the efficiency of a whole faculty working together for one end: its desired graduate. I would accept the knock on this view that it removes diversity and individuality if I did not see that such an education best prepares each graduate to realize their own humanity, their own goals and dreams, by giving them as broad and human an education as is possible. The most efficient education, in the end, does not seem to one of specialization, but one that prepares each student as fully as possible for as much as is possible.
May each faculty of each school enjoy the conversation about integration and the role each course plays in forming a complete person. God bless the Liberal Arts and its efficient manner.
At the moment my school’s faculty are discussing and shaping for ourselves to ideals. We are gathering ideas to produce a portrait of an Ideal Graduate and defining what an Ideal Teacher at our school would be like. These are powerful pursuits because they can lift every student and teacher to a higher plane of community and unity.
But not everyone in our day believes in ideals. I often hear that ideals lead to idealism, meaning having a standard that is impractical makes those who pursue it impractical. This is often argued in the area of assessment. The argument goes something like, “If you place some arbitrary ideal in front of a student, one they can never reach, you are just going to frustrate them.”
I disagree. Some of the argument is due to the shift from “teaching the father of the man” to a child centered pedagogy in modern theory. I will blog more extensively on the old concept that makes truth, not the person, the center of education later. But when education became more focused on how children feel in school than on what they are learning, we definitely stopped believing in ideals.
An ideal anything sets the normative basis for that thing. The ideal basketball player (who cannot possibly exists) helps the coach set before his players not only a vision they can never attain, but it also reveals to the players and coach what portion less than that ideal is acceptable on the team.
In another way of approaching it, if there is no “100%” there can be nothing to measure a 90 or 80 or 70 against. The truly great education calls a student to something beyond his reach. It certainly has to help him rise up to that calling, but once he believes himself lifted up to a higher plateau, he realizes that from that vantage point, there is another, higher, goal calling him yet up and in. I have solioquized often about how powerful I think David Hick’s Norms and Nobility is as a modern work on education. Let me allow him to more fully develop this idea in ways that are beyond my skill.
“In his quest for the best education, the ancient schoolmaster possessed two advantages over the modern educator. First, he knew exactly what kind of a person he wished to produce…Second, he agreed in form upon an inquiry-based or knowledge-centered – as opposed to a child-centered – approach to education.” (David Hicks, Norms and Nobility, p. 39)
“The past instructs us that man has only understood himself and mastered himself in pursuit of a self-transcendent Ideal, a Golden Fleece, a Promised Land, a Holy Grail, a numinous windmill. He defines himself in the quest, not on Kalypso’s unblown isle, where he is only judged against himself, where all obstacles are removed, where the question of human significance seems insignificant, and where there are no moral restraints or binding ideals. On Kalypso’s idyllic estate, Odyssean man is a nobody. He languishes in egocentric frustration, self-doubt, and insecurity. In many ways, he is a portrait of the modern student, seated “on the vacant beach with a shattered heart, scanning the sea’s bare horizon with wet eyes.” Only Odysseus’ knowledge of the past- his longing for Ithaka, Penelope, and Telemakhos- keeps him alive; and only the responsibility he takes for that knowledge rescues him from Kalypso’s pointless life of pleasure.” (David Hicks, Norms and Nobility, p. 51)
Some questions about grading that come from a discussion I am having at my school:
Questions of Diversity (are all grades the same):
- Why do some teachers use percentages of right answers, others use letter grades, some use Pass/Fail, and still others some other measurement of grading?
- What are the differences in grading by individual, by group, or by independent standards?
- Should all students be graded in the same manner? In what cases, if any, would there be differences?
Questions of Gestation (by what means are grades brought into being):
- How do grades differ when gathered from test data, performance, participation, or simply put, from what students know versus what they do?
- How do the limitations of a teacher’s knowledge, experience, assessment forming skills, and opinions affect the assigning of grades to a specific assessment? In other words, can a grade be objective despite the subjective nature of a teacher and teaching?
- How does a teacher grade self-expression (art, poetry, music, etc.)?
- If grading by percentage of correct responses, should a teacher expect all students to arrive at the “right” answer in the same way, or allow for creativity and imagination, only grading the result and not the path to the answer? What would this imply for science and math grades?
Questions of Communication (what does a grade imply or speak to):
- What does a grade measure?
- What does a grade communicate to the student and parent?
- What should a grade tell a teacher?
- What should a grade tell a future institution of learning that receives a student’s grades?
Questions of Action (what should be done with grades):
- What should a student do with his grade?
- What is the importance of grading?
- How accurate is a grade in demonstrating mastery of a subject?
- Should a student who has, say, an 83% mastery of Algebra be allowed to pass into a Calculus course?