I once heard a story about an engineering class in a fine, private university. The course was taught by a foreign national. His idea of a lesson was to mumble (in a heavy accent) while writing equations on the board with his right hand and erasing his previous entries with his left. Meanwhile, the students, among the best and the brightest, feverishly took notes. After class they all headed for the library, took out books on the overall subject of the lecture, and searched to find an equation in the books that matched an equation in their notes. From this starting point they taught themselves the material covered in the lecture. Why did they attend class? It was required? So they would know what would probably be on the final exam? Force of habit? It is no surprise that the attrition rate was around 50 percent.
A class is a captive audience. By the time you reach higher education, the responsibility for learning the material presented in the classroom rests primarily on the shoulders of the individual student. Supposedly, all the previous years of schooling is preparation -- a student should be able to read difficult material and be an autodidact. Yet a recent study finds that almost half of the college students in the study showed no significant improvement in the key measures of critical thinking, complex reasoning and writing by the end of their sophomore years. It's clear that "covering" the material in class is not imparting it in any meaningful way to students.
How many teachers think that teaching is "covering the material?" How many writers figure that if they write content about the real world -- getting the facts down -- then readers will learn it? Don't they get that if they want others to get what they say, they have to do more than just say it willy-nilly?
There is one person who comes to mind who people listen to -- namely, Oprah. (Note: I don't need to use her last name.) Interestingly, in a recent interview with Piers Morgan, Oprah defined herself as a teacher. Her mission is to help people be their best selves so that they find happiness and fulfillment. Her self-declared brand is "love." And if you doubt her power to influence, know that her book choices, no matter how challenging, are enough to make them bestsellers.
What does Oprah do that makes her both powerful and empowering?
She is authentic. She fearlessly reveals her own humanity -- her struggles with weight, her mistakes in judgment, how she overcame the scars of sexual abuse. Her success is the possibility that others can also succeed. You can trust her.
She knows how to listen to and really hear others. She is present in the moment. Not only does this honor and validate the speaker, but it keeps her in tune with her audience; she listens attentively to them as well. She quickly and generously acknowledges the work and contributions of others.
She is not concerned about being an authority. She knows how to ask questions. But when she does speak on a subject, you know that she owns it. People listen to her because they hear something for themselves in what she speaks about.
In addition, Oprah is all about empowering her audience to go to authorities when they need to. (Subtext: Don't be afraid to ask for help.) As a result she has produced a constellation of real authorities who can impart skills such as Dr. Phil, for human relationships, Suze Orman for dealing with money, and Dr. Oz for overall health.
She doesn't sugarcoat. Some stuff is hard. It requires discipline, hard work, diligence and support from others. Oprah never says "this is easy" unless it really is. She knows that self-esteem comes from the self-knowledge that you've done something difficult. Over-praising that is not truly deserved creates its own set of problems, although it is important, especially for children, that their efforts be acknowledged. Overcoming challenges builds persistence.
She does her homework. True, she has a staff to help her. But her collaboration with others is yet another mode of constructive social interaction.
What if more teachers tried to emulate Oprah, (while remaining true to themselves)? Would that improve the quality of education? Are these traits useful for assessing classroom teachers? Is there any way to measure these traits and their effectiveness? Just musing...
There's a lot of writing going on out there in the blogosphere and it's changing the way people write. Most of it is inconsequential -- a lot of noise. But some of it is important, indeed profound. These authors are writing to be heard. They are thinking about their readers and writing so that readers want to "follow" them. Without gatekeepers, like editors, publishers and critics, these writers are finding ways to resonate with their audience. Of course, children's nonfiction authors know how to do this. Many of us have even had to educate our gatekeepers. Our readers are never out of our minds. Here's what we've learned from the school of hard knocks: When you don't have a captive audience, you must become captivating.
First you have to get the reader's attention, then you have to keep it. Easier said than done. The devil is always in the details and I'm not sure that it ever gets any easier. But recently I've discovered that Twitter and Twitter Chats can sharpen communication skills. The strength of Twitter is its 140-character limit. In effect, it's good training for writing powerful advertising copy. A good tweet spurs the reader into action--to retweet (send it on to others) or to visit a link where the tweet's subject is spelled out in greater depth. There's a Web site that is pulling "pearls of wisdom" from Tweetchats and they will soon be publishing them as books. Here's an example of insightful tweets from a leadership chat about "vision."
This blog on Education Update is not really a blog. It is more like op-ed opinion columns. A true blogger writes short and often (daily, if possible). One of the best is Seth Godin, who writes about marketing but is a very successful self-published guru -- his program on the future of publishing in New York City was sold out within hours of its announcement. In order to be successful, new posts have to come frequently and have to resonate with readers. Often, people who have a "viral" success with a video on YouTube can't do much with it because it is truly a "flash in the pan." Only people with singular intellects can sustain high quality of blogging day after day, year after year.
How does one become a writer who resonates? First, you have to speak the language of your audience. Most children's book authors write for the child they were. They don't focus-group children. When I was 10, I recall listening to an adult telling me, in a very patronizing manner, how life was when he was a kid. I remember thinking that he wasn't remembering childhood correctly. At that moment I vowed to myself that I would never forget what it was like to be a child. I had a sense of myself as a person, one who had a lot yet to learn, but not to be dismissed as someone who was unintelligent or unaware. If you don't speak "child" when you write for children it is quickly spotted by the gatekeepers and rejection slips inevitably follow.
Second, never underestimate the intelligence of your readership or overestimate their prior knowledge. The first makes sure that your tone is not patronizing. The second makes sure that they "get" what you're saying. It is only when you are clear and accessible that you demonstrate mastery of concepts. This runs counter to some writers who believe that inaccessibility manifests erudition.
Third, you have to know when you've said enough. Eyes tend to glaze over with too much information.
If this post is the first one of mine you've read, then I have failed if it is also the last.
In the interest of full disclosure, this blog is a shameless plug for my new book.
I've attended a number of science fairs in my day. The scenario that passes through my mind as I walk up and down the aisles is the frantic work that must have been done on the part of parents and children in the final days leading up to the fair. I can just imagine the exhortations, tears, and meltdowns behind the exhibits. It's not just their superficial nature that gives me pause (a lot of volcano models) but the last-minute evidence in my e-mail inbox from frantic parents asking me for suggestions. It reminds me of the joke about the Louvre where an American tourist races up to a guard and says, "Quick. Where's the Mona Lisa? I'm double-parked." Too often the point of a science fair is to have something, anything, to exhibit. What is lost is the experience of science as a process -- an inquiry into a unique way of knowing. It is not an experience for procrastinators. It can be a way of life. So this post is an early heads-up to increase the possibility that the science fair is an experience that has value.
Science fair season is typically in March. So now is the time to start thinking and planning. And if you're looking for inspiration, do I have a book for you! It's called See for Yourself by yours-truly and the second edition has just been published by Skyhorse. In it I draw inspirations for experiments from very familiar places, starting with the human body and going to the supermarket, the drugstore, the hardware store, the stationery store and the toy store.
The purpose of my book is to get kids hooked on doing real science. And if you think that's not possible, read how some British school children did a study of how bees learned to recognize colors and patterns. They actually published their findings in a peer-reviewed scientific journal! Children are natural scientists until they start worrying about grades and how they'll show up at the science fair. My problem with science fairs is that the exhibit becomes the all-important goal -- not doing science itself. I want them to return to this natural curiosity and their science fair exhibit will be simply a by-product of the fun they'll have along the way.
I recently read a study that stated that most working scientists discovered science before middle school. Scientists love science. They love the rush they get, the "eureka" experience, when they make a discovery. It is my intention that kids start asking the questions that lead to many "eurekas" of their own. Science also gives scientists (and kids) an excuse to play -- to try stuff out just for the fun of it. And, guess what, when you do science it doesn't matter if you make a mistake or guess the wrong answer. (Unlike all those assessment tests.) All that matters is that you learn something. These are the reasons I think a science fair is a good thing. So start browsing through those pages.
If you want to see what I have to say about this book, here's my trailer.
What does it take to master a skill? Think of a violinist, or a champion tennis player or a painter. Think of an artist, or a nurse, or a teacher. An individual may exhibit talent but mastery requires several other elements.
Practice: There are no shortcuts. Any skill must be practiced to gain proficiency and, ultimately, to maintain it. Athletes train. Writers write. Musicians and doctors practice.
Technique: While there may be more than one way to skin a cat, there are usually best practices in acquiring a skill. The advantage of good technique is that improvement is continually possible. Amateurs often gain a certain amount of proficiency for playing a game like golf or tennis, enough to enjoy it and to be competitive at a certain level. But they plateau out. Professionalism is possible only for those with excellent technique.
There are character traits that are also part of the mix.
Discipline: This means that feelings don't count. You adhere to a schedule regardless of how you feel. You show up, period.
Diligence: You pay attention to best practices and don't cut corners.
Patience: It takes time.
Tolerance for failure: People who cannot tolerate failure in themselves never achieve much.
In the history of the human race, hard-won skills appear and disappear. Most ancient Greeks knew the configurations of the night sky. Not only was it important for navigation but it was the inspiration for the myths and fables of the culture. When this country was first settled, most educated men knew how to survey and measure land. Now only civil engineers practice that lost art. In today's society one doesn't have to know how to iron shirts, create meals from raw foods, stoke fires or split logs to keep warm. Modern life is creating a society of hot-house plants. In the interest of comfort, convenience and beauty, we are losing our ability to survive in the wild.
And the pace at which once-considered-essential skills are becoming obsolete is accelerating. Not so long ago, when I went to the green grocer in my NYC neighborhood, the clerk wrote the price of each item in a long column on a brown paper bag and did the addition at breathtaking speed as ran his pencil down the column. Today, many checkout cashiers become confused and panicked if you hand them extra money so that your change is a convenient round amount. Cursive handwriting is no longer taught in many schools. And texting seems to be replacing some other kinds of social interactions, although I'm not sure which ones.
At the risk of appearing to be the stereotypic old fogy who's wondering "What is this world coming to?" I have some questions about the valuable new essential skills (computer literacy, for example) that may be replacing more traditional ones. I just don't want to throw out the baby with the bathwater. So here are some questions for you to ponder:
-- Nerds and geeks are typically thought of as people who are so into their own thing (like math or science) that they never develop adequate social skills to enjoy the company of others. Will computer games lead to an increase in the geek/nerd population?
-- Social skills are hard-won from a lifetime of interacting with others. What will be the effect of texting in children and adolescents on the development of people skills? On the development of writing skills?
-- The Internet makes the creation of cut-and-paste term papers a tempting short-cut for fulfilling homework assignments. (Take my word for it; writing well is definitely hard-won.) Ubiquitous cell phones have led to rampant cheating on tests in schools. How can educators cope with the changing student culture in view of these temptations? Is any sense of honor becoming moribund? Will technology erode the character traits I itemized above, which lead to hard-won skills? Or will they be applied to mastery of new skills? (I recently learned that a champion texter does 130 words per minute.) Am I worried over nothing?
