I'm teaching a Bachelors-level course this quarter called Written Analysis. The whole purpose of the class is to get students thinking "on paper." To think through a complex and complicated issue, with no clear or easy solutions, but to write out the thinking process. (Even if you're an internal processor, this is far from easy. Getting lost in your own thoughts is common and difficult to get out of. Trying to prevent that linguistically can be a nightmare.)
At any rate, here's the thing: the more I study and, dare I say, "think" about this class, and the deeper into the quarter we go, I find myself becoming fascinated with the critical thinking process specifically and obsessed with thinking in general. For about three hours each week, a group of about 30 of us hold up in a room and do nothing but think. We think about complicated issues, issues that some of the smartest people in the world are thinking about and then we propose our best-guess solutions to these problems and try to think about whta the ramifications of what we've proposed might be.
Here's what I've learned about thinking so far:
1. It's hard work.
2. The value lies in the progressive sophistication of the thoughts.
3. I am not the sharpest tool in the shed. (Okay, I really already knew this, but still, it's good to be reminded.)
4. It takes time.
5. Concentrated focus on thinking in this class, helps me think quicker and better throughout the other days.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Playtime
A couple of weeks ago I helped out with the Recreation part of VBS (that's Vacation Bible School for all the older ones reading this who still remember felt board Bible lessons and macaroni crosses in crafts), and one of the days I was in charge of keeping an eye on the kids playing in and on the playground. I'm always struck watching little kids play together because I learn so much from them.
As soon as they got going sliding, running, and expending copious amounts of energy, one of the little girls ran up to me and asked, "Mr. Noah, will you play with me?" I smiled and told her how much I appreciated her asking but that I needed to keep an eye on all the other kids and maybe she should ask someone else. I watched as she proceeded to approach a group of three girls timidly and ask the all-important question to them, "Will you play with me?" As I did, I realized that much as it is the make-or-break question for a kid on the playground, we as adults have similar situations throughout our lives.
Here's the thing: we come into social situations (high school, college, church, work, parties) with all our insecurities, all our frailties, all our perceived weaknesses, and we see all these already-formed groups of people having conversations, talking, laughing, and getting along. And in these situations of corporate monkey bars and social rope climbs, all we want is for someone to play with us. To find someone or a group of someones who will accept us into their game and keep us from being relegated to watching from the sidelines.
Thankfully, the group she asked willingly let the little girl in, and they laughed and played until it was time to move to the next part of VBS. But you and I both know this might not always be the case for her, and it certainly isn't always the case for adults. On playgrounds when no one will play with you it's okay to cry and be sad, and there are usually adults around to comfort you and make it all better, but in the adult world we don't always have those options available. Too often when adults aren't included we smile, pretend it's no big deal, and bury the hurt or whatever emotions are conjured up.
I hope and pray that I will be someone who is ready with a "yes" whenever anyone, no matter what they look like, smell like, act like, etc. asks me if I'll play with them. After all, isn't that what Christ did for me?
As soon as they got going sliding, running, and expending copious amounts of energy, one of the little girls ran up to me and asked, "Mr. Noah, will you play with me?" I smiled and told her how much I appreciated her asking but that I needed to keep an eye on all the other kids and maybe she should ask someone else. I watched as she proceeded to approach a group of three girls timidly and ask the all-important question to them, "Will you play with me?" As I did, I realized that much as it is the make-or-break question for a kid on the playground, we as adults have similar situations throughout our lives.
Here's the thing: we come into social situations (high school, college, church, work, parties) with all our insecurities, all our frailties, all our perceived weaknesses, and we see all these already-formed groups of people having conversations, talking, laughing, and getting along. And in these situations of corporate monkey bars and social rope climbs, all we want is for someone to play with us. To find someone or a group of someones who will accept us into their game and keep us from being relegated to watching from the sidelines.
Thankfully, the group she asked willingly let the little girl in, and they laughed and played until it was time to move to the next part of VBS. But you and I both know this might not always be the case for her, and it certainly isn't always the case for adults. On playgrounds when no one will play with you it's okay to cry and be sad, and there are usually adults around to comfort you and make it all better, but in the adult world we don't always have those options available. Too often when adults aren't included we smile, pretend it's no big deal, and bury the hurt or whatever emotions are conjured up.
I hope and pray that I will be someone who is ready with a "yes" whenever anyone, no matter what they look like, smell like, act like, etc. asks me if I'll play with them. After all, isn't that what Christ did for me?
You Think?
This quarter, I'm teaching a class titled "Written Analysis." The point of the class is to challenge students to think creatively and critically about issues related to their fields of study and then propose solutions to these problems based on the thinking they've done.
Last night, we had the first class, and we started with a discussion about worldviews and how our worldview affects (deeply affects, in fact) the way we approach the act and exercise of thinking and decision-making. Here's the thing: it occurred to me as we were talking, or rather as the students were talking and I was listening, just how little most people think about what they believe and how what they believe influences their behavior. As we laid out some of the bigger categories of worldviews (e.g. nihilism, existentialism, post-modernism) it was fascinating to see little cracks in some of the students as they realized that their behavior in certain situations actually cross a couple or even several different worldviews.
I don't know exactly where this discussion will ultimately lead, but it gave me great confidence that these students are going to be able to handle this class and anything I throw at them this quarter. I also walked away more convinced than ever, that we as humans need to do more thinking about what we think.
Last night, we had the first class, and we started with a discussion about worldviews and how our worldview affects (deeply affects, in fact) the way we approach the act and exercise of thinking and decision-making. Here's the thing: it occurred to me as we were talking, or rather as the students were talking and I was listening, just how little most people think about what they believe and how what they believe influences their behavior. As we laid out some of the bigger categories of worldviews (e.g. nihilism, existentialism, post-modernism) it was fascinating to see little cracks in some of the students as they realized that their behavior in certain situations actually cross a couple or even several different worldviews.
I don't know exactly where this discussion will ultimately lead, but it gave me great confidence that these students are going to be able to handle this class and anything I throw at them this quarter. I also walked away more convinced than ever, that we as humans need to do more thinking about what we think.
Monday, May 31, 2010
2010 Summer Reading List
It's summer time, and at least in theory, things will slow down a bit to give us all a chance to catch up on our reading. Here are four suggestions to throw in your backpack or beach bag and spend some time with this summer. With the exception of one book, this year's list is for those who want to have fun reading and get a little mental exercise in as well. Enjoy!
- The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon. Written from the perspective of a little boy who has autism, this book will entertain you in ways that are both surprising and heartwarming.
- The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. This one makes the list almost every other summer. The language isn't so much challenging as it is just a little dated at times, but it's an American classic, and you just have to read it at some point in your life. As a follow-up, if you want a little more challenge from Fitzgerald, try The Beautiful and the Damned.)
- Everything Is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer. Get ready for this one. The small size of the book is very deceptive, as the writing and plot for this one rank with the likes of A Clockwork Orange.
- A Star Called Henry by Roddy Doyle. This one throws in some Irish history intertwined with a terrific story. Warning: read it on a sunny day!
Who Cares?
This article from MSNBC.COM caught my eye yesterday. If you know anything about me, you know that I'm constantly fascinated by generational trends, those specific and sometimes unique qualities that give generations characteristics and qualities nearing personality traits. In the article, Jenna Bryner cites a major study done at the University of Michigan which found that currently enrolled college students are 40% less likely to feel empathy toward their friends than those of previous generations did.
To be sure the interpretation of this research is subjective, but the main determinative statement as to whether students show empathy was, "I sometimes try to understand my friends better by imagining how things look from their perspective." The data seem to suggest that students are less likely to agree with this statement than those of the late 1970s were.
I don't know if I really think college students today are less empathetic than those of previous generations. In many ways, I feel as if my students tend to be more empathetic and want more empathy than I was at their age, but I do see (and hear) a trend among my students that seems to support the research. The students I teach today tend to have a "if it doesn't affect me, I don't care about it" mentality about a wide range of issues and problems. One of the things I strive for in my classes is to pick issues for discussion that my students can directly relate to, and if they don't, it becomes my job to help them see how what we're discussing directly affects their lives. So, it makes sense to me, that the "who cares?" mentality they have about the economic crisis in Greece, because it seems so removed from their everyday lives, could translate to their interpersonal relationships as well.
One of the traps of suburban life, is that it's easy to think that what happens to someone else doesn't directly affect me. We can drive into our garages, close the doors, draw the blinds or curtains, and in effect, hit the Ignore button with our actions the same way we do with our mouses to a "friend" request on Facebook. In apartment buildings or small towns where "everybody knows everybody" this is harder to do. Not that the Ignore button can't be hit, not that people who live in these places don't have the same capacity not to care about their neighbors, but the above mentioned scenarios do seem to make it harder not to care.
For me this article just reinforces much of what I already thought about teaching. That part of my job is not only to present issues to my students but to also help them see why the issues we're discussing in class matter, even if the issue doesn't fall on my students' pre-made list of issues that directly affect their lives.
To be sure the interpretation of this research is subjective, but the main determinative statement as to whether students show empathy was, "I sometimes try to understand my friends better by imagining how things look from their perspective." The data seem to suggest that students are less likely to agree with this statement than those of the late 1970s were.
I don't know if I really think college students today are less empathetic than those of previous generations. In many ways, I feel as if my students tend to be more empathetic and want more empathy than I was at their age, but I do see (and hear) a trend among my students that seems to support the research. The students I teach today tend to have a "if it doesn't affect me, I don't care about it" mentality about a wide range of issues and problems. One of the things I strive for in my classes is to pick issues for discussion that my students can directly relate to, and if they don't, it becomes my job to help them see how what we're discussing directly affects their lives. So, it makes sense to me, that the "who cares?" mentality they have about the economic crisis in Greece, because it seems so removed from their everyday lives, could translate to their interpersonal relationships as well.
One of the traps of suburban life, is that it's easy to think that what happens to someone else doesn't directly affect me. We can drive into our garages, close the doors, draw the blinds or curtains, and in effect, hit the Ignore button with our actions the same way we do with our mouses to a "friend" request on Facebook. In apartment buildings or small towns where "everybody knows everybody" this is harder to do. Not that the Ignore button can't be hit, not that people who live in these places don't have the same capacity not to care about their neighbors, but the above mentioned scenarios do seem to make it harder not to care.
For me this article just reinforces much of what I already thought about teaching. That part of my job is not only to present issues to my students but to also help them see why the issues we're discussing in class matter, even if the issue doesn't fall on my students' pre-made list of issues that directly affect their lives.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Multiple Personalities
One of the things I've learned this quarter has to do with the personality of classes. Let me set this up a bit: last quarter, I taught four sections of Comp 1, and each section had a distinct and fun personality, which was good for me as teaching four sections of the same class during the week could get pretty boring. But I came to know what would work and what wouldn't work in each class because I knew who they were as a group. I knew what they responded to. One class responded to a fast-pace, pack as much in as possible approach whereas another one really responded well to group activities. The one thing all four sections had in common was that the students in each section just gelled together and worked well. Even though I had to change my methods depending on the group's dynamics, it wasn't difficult to teach them because they were a cohesive unit, working together each class.
This quarter, I'm teaching two sections of Comp 2, and about 80% of my students are ones I had last quarter in Comp 1 sections. It's basically as if four sections of Comp 1 were combined into two sections of Comp 2, and it's honestly been one of the biggest challenges to teach. The well-formed, easy functioning classes of last quarter have gone. For some reason, four sections that separately were so gelled together have not mixed well at all, and knowing how to teach them and what they'll respond to has been almost impossible.
Here's the thing: I've always known that as a teacher I'm very sensitive to the feel of a class. If the students are rockin', so am I. If they are really getting the material and having a good time with it, teaching becomes unconscious for me, and I simply join the party. What I didn't realize until this quarter was just how meaningful and powerful the personality of a class can be and just how much I do respond to it. I also never dreamed that combining four really fun sections into two could take away the magic and adversly affect them that much.
This quarter, I'm teaching two sections of Comp 2, and about 80% of my students are ones I had last quarter in Comp 1 sections. It's basically as if four sections of Comp 1 were combined into two sections of Comp 2, and it's honestly been one of the biggest challenges to teach. The well-formed, easy functioning classes of last quarter have gone. For some reason, four sections that separately were so gelled together have not mixed well at all, and knowing how to teach them and what they'll respond to has been almost impossible.
Here's the thing: I've always known that as a teacher I'm very sensitive to the feel of a class. If the students are rockin', so am I. If they are really getting the material and having a good time with it, teaching becomes unconscious for me, and I simply join the party. What I didn't realize until this quarter was just how meaningful and powerful the personality of a class can be and just how much I do respond to it. I also never dreamed that combining four really fun sections into two could take away the magic and adversly affect them that much.
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