Mano has been talking on his blog about how self-esteem affects a student’s performance. He gives a brief account of a disparaged teacher who discovers that even making in-class questions easy could not persuade her students to speak up. This anectode reminds me of something…ah, yes: four years of classes at Case.
I must first admit that I am addicted to learning. I can barely handle watching television, without justifying it as either being good for my knowledge of pop-culture (so that my social standing might be strengthened) or thinking of it as an art and anlyzing the choice and control exercised behind the media. When I am supposed to be learning, and I am not, I get extremely frustrated. It’s almost like going through withdrawal. Make me read one of those magnificrappy Microsoft IT exam certification books, and my brain goes into convulsions. I know I can gain knowledge of said domain much more efficiently outside of these ridiculous 300 page advertisements cum flimsy-help-file.
I learn best through conversation and interaction. Therefore, classes where no interaction or conversation took place were usually very, very frustrating to me. At Case, this happened in many classes. I remember some classes where student participants were audibly heckled from the back of the class. It’s like highschool all over again, only now, the smart kids are getting their revenge. I also remember classes where the teacher would go on and on, way over the heads of the even the smartest in the room, then turn around and ask if everyone understood. ... chirp ... This eventually became very annoying to me, because I had to spend extra time catching up outside of class, when I could have spoken up and made sense of it in class, while the opportunity cost of understanding was much lower.
I didn’t really take advantage of this attitude until I moved off campus, my Senior year. It was actually a great liberation, because I felt much less judged by the campus population. In class I was verbal, answering questions during silence, and opening up discussions during lectures, even in the most unidirectionally structured of regiments at the time. I found that I could single-handedly change the outlook and attitude of an entire classroom of students, simply by being inquisitive, attentive, and sensitive to the material. (What power!!) Even better, when I did this, it opened the gate for those who had enough raw intelligence to ask really good questions, beyond even my capabilities (Wow! Now that’s smart! ;)). This was great, because I was learning efficiently for the first time in four years. I found myself more focussed when it came time to do homework and study. I even had enough spare time to explore Cleveland and feel like a member of the city, instead of a citizen of the sheltered environment Case had been offering me.
Looking back on the first three years, I feel like in many cases the blame fell equally on my teachers and the students. Some teachers would tell the students to ask questions anytime, and then snap at them any time they did—embarassing them in front of their peers. Oh, and don’t get me started on teachers’ absolutely flagrant use of the word “trivial.” One of the great things about blogging is the way it lowers the barrier for discussion. Many teachers served only to raise the barrier. I also remember wanting to shout, “get over yourselves!” to some other students in the classrooms. I could almost see the infectious silence emanating from these academic snobs.
The question then becomes, how do you lead a group of people into a directed learning session, where the barrier to discussion is low? I thought maybe it had to do with the attitude of the teacher. Maybe friendly teachers were more likely to encourage discussion than the soul-less lecturer. I found that it was more likely a class would get off track when the teacher was overly friendly. Maybe it was the content? I know for certain when someone is telling me, “this is how it is,” and gives me a bunch of facts to memorize, I am much less likely to make an interactive period of learning out of it. When I’m learning about a new technology, I learn best when I understand the problem it is trying to solve, the reason it’s better than predecessor X, and it’s inherent deficiencies. To a degree, fact makes less sense to me than theory. I think this is because it is so hard for me to relate to anything absolute at all. (On a side note, Powerpoint presentations have the obnoxious characteristic of formatting information such that it appears much more unquestionable than it really should—and I have never had a good Powerpoint class.) Apparently teaching a class and doing it well, is not a “trivial” task. ;)