Learning Theory
I’ve got a great idea for a summer project!!
Think about your theory of learning.
Emphasis on think about. Because, as I recall, somewhere Alfie Kohn has said that all teachers have a theory of learning. It’s just tacit for many of us. It’s there, but we don’t think about it consciously.
And if we don’t think about it consciously, then it influences what we do without our knowing it. Which
traps us
into unexamined, habitual practices that might not be as effective as we’d like.
I fervently believe that teachers at all levels need to know what their theory of learning is. They need to bring it up into consciousness. Otherwise how can we justify our acts of teaching?
For example: Let’s say you are a teacher who lectures a lot. Your theory of learning seems to be that
learning = information absorption.
More specifically, your theory of learning seems to follow a transfer model. One where, as Paolo Freire characterized it, you take information out of your head and deposit it into your students’ heads. The banking model of education.
Or if, for example, you’re an English or composition teacher who gives your students weekly writing assignments, your theory of learning might be something like
learning = hands-on practice.
You can’t talk about skills forever, right? At some point you’ve got to give your students opportunities to develop those skills themselves.
If you’re a teacher who sets up experiences for your students to make sense of — like laying out a bunch of rocks, hammers, paper, and chemicals and asking students to identify minerals — your theory of learning might be something like
learning = inductive reasoning.
Or, if you’re a member of the Tennessee House of Representatives (I simply cannot resist this!) and want to prevent students from feeling any “discomfort, guilt, anguish or another form of psychological distress solely because of the individual’s race or sex” (which, as I read it, makes racism and sexism in schools illegal — sounds good!), then you seem to think that
learning = comfortable and ahistorical.
Of course, your theory of learning could be an amalgamation of some of these and others.
The thing that matters, in my view, is not that you get the jargon right. (Hell, I don’t know what various learning theories are called! I’m just making these up — except for the banking metaphor of Freire’s.) (And, of course, I am not making up what the state legislatures of Tennessee, Oklahoma, Iowa, Idaho, and Texas are doing.) What matters is that we teachers clarify for ourselves how we think people learn. Because then we can design instruction that dovetails with our theory.
For instance, if you’re someone who lectures but, it turns out, believes learning = hands-on practice, you’ve got some adjusting to do. If you believe learning = inductive reasoning but also want students to be able to apply specific overarching concepts to their thinking, then you’ve got some content to deliver. And you’ve got to figure out how to make that content accessible in ways that dovetail with your theory of learning.
This interesting little discipline — thinking about your theory of learning — can lead to a lot of creativity!
It could also be very interesting to
ask students
to think — and talk or write — about their theory of learning.
Great assignment for the first day of school. And here’s a great activity for the second day of school: to discuss the various theories of learning that have come together in your classroom. And think about how all of them will co-exist. What a way to engage students from the get-go!
Mantra: What is it to learn? How do I learn? How do I know when I’ve learned something? (And, for conservative legislators out there:) What scares me about learning?