Sunday, April 6, 2008

I have no creative title for this post. Sorry. It's a much delayed class reaction from 4.1.

As I was gather my things to leave class last Tuesday, I asked Dr. Pope if hearing us say ridiculous things about Dewey made him cringe a little. He told me no (although I'm not sure I entirely believe him), and basically said (if I had actually posted this sooner I'd be more accurate) we were working out our interpretation of Dewey in our discussion. (Although when he comes out with his groundbreaking book, Dumb Things Students Have Said Trying to Explain the Points Intelligent People Make, we'll know he's been secretly laughing at his students for years.)

It wasn't until I got home and thought about the class discussion (and mainly the dumb things I contributed to the class discussion), that I had my "Duh" moment. What we're doing when we sit around in a circle and throw out what seem to be comments and opinions that are complete tangents from the main point is exactly what Dewey would want us to be doing. We're using our past experiences to understand the new material we're being exposed to. Sometimes, based on our past experiences and what sort of things we've been exposed to, we need to use those tangents from the general discussion to make the connection. People who have had the experience of reading philosophy and discussing it probably have different ways of making sense of the new material than those who have no experience doing so (or who never understood it when they did). To further complicate this whole mess, there are some people who have never had the experience of having class discussion while sitting in a circle, a discussion where everyone is expected to contribute. I know there are members of the class who are quiet or not big into speaking up in such a setting, and then there are others who have no problem at all sharing their thoughts and opinions. If Dewey is right, those who are experiencing group discussion for the first time will treat the situation differently when they come across it in the future. Or something like that.

So that was my big "Duh" moment. It isn't much, but there it is.


3 comments:

Lily Cornely said...

i'm having technical difficulties and am using this as a test. Lily C.

Lily Cornely said...

I’ve been thinking about the summary that Dr. Pope provided in wrap-up to Dewey last class: “The fundamental job of the Deweyian teacher is to understand the experiential makeup of her students as well as to understand the environment beyond the school and to construct a classroom environment that will connect the two so as to be conducive to growth.” Assuming I’m understanding Dewey correctly (huge assumption), as a future business teacher, I strongly agree that the classroom environment has to connect to the environment beyond school, but I don’t necessarily agree with Dewey on this first point; that is, the need for the teacher to understand the experiential makeup of her students in order for the classroom environment to be conducive to growth. I don’t think the students’ past experiences are all that relevant. I think that sometimes the “Duh” moment (to paraphrase Leigh) comes later. An hour later, a day later, often years later. To illustrate this point, my fourteen year old son mentioned to me the other day that he really has an appreciation for architecture. He had studied architecture in third grade and said that he thought it was really “dumb and boring” at the time, but that he really likes it now. The unit of study had concluded with a tour of downtown Pittsburgh (where we lived at the time). After the tour that day (five years ago), I had asked him what he had found most interesting about the tour. He replied, “I don’t Mom, I wasn’t paying attention.” In retrospect, he said he thought he was too young to appreciate it at the time. To the contrary, I argued and he agreed, studying architecture, despite having no prior exposure to it or appreciation of it, enabled him to appreciate it more after having studied it in the classroom. I believe that students might not appreciate, connect with, or even understand what they’re learning at the time, but that, regardless, the experience will enrich them. At least, that’s what I plan to tell myself when I look at my future classroom of business leaders of tomorrow, slumped in their chairs, yawning, doodling, and rolling their eyes.

Angie Clark said...

While I see Lily's point, I can not agree entirely. I think before we know it as architecture we know it as a house, or a store, or a hotel, etc. In my own thinking, which is admittedly humbled by many, knowing one's students might lie more in the realm of asking a child from the midwest, who is perhaps in a poverty stricken area to try to identify with experiences at the beach. This would probably have little meaning to some one who has never had the opportunity to feel an ocean breeze on their face. This is not to say that they cannot be taught about the beach, but the choice of teaching strategy would have to be considered. That being said Leigh, don't consider it a "Duh!" moment, but a moment of "Aha!" (I borrowed the Aha! thing from Howard Gardner, by the way. Copyright being our groups topic, I felt it had to be said!)