Enactivism
I know that, ever since last week’s post, you have been waiting
with bated breath
for the answer to this question:
What exactly, Betsy, is your theory of learning?
I am so glad you asked!
First, my definition of learning:
Learning = change
For me, learning is what sticks. I have learned if I have internalized a new way of thinking or seeing. I have learned if I can do something I couldn’t do before. I have learned if I have turned random information into an organized framework that helps me understand the world better.
Note that I don’t count taking in information as learning. For me, most information just drains away. Unless I have organized it, worked with it, questioned it, fought with it, added it to my existing worldview. That is, forged a relationship with it.
Which leads to my theory of how learning happens:
Through relationships.
Through fitting together. With people. With information. With practices. With ideas.
My theory of learning actually blends two other theories. One is called enactivism. It is a branch of cognitive science and complexity theory that views knowing as fully embodied (not just in our brains) and enacted (manifested in doing).
The other theory is psychoanalytic theory, which contains a ton of wisdom about how relationships work.
Put ‘em all together and what do you get?
a robust commitment to student-centered teaching (because my focus is on what students know and learn, not on what I know and have already learned)
a mandate to collect and analyze emotional and relational data (so I can gauge how the relationships are going in my classroom)
a realization that, if I am going to be the best teacher I can be, I need to be the best person I can be
curiosity about what students are teaching me about themselves and what my feelings and behaviors teach me about me
excitement about setting up activities so students can connect with the content, me, and each other creatively
openness to students’ honest reactions to me, each other, and the material — positive and negative
a commitment to holding my students and their reactions and channeling them into growth and development — into change
humility about my limits, vulnerabilities, and blind spots because I’m a human being who is fitting with and learning from my students like crazy
recognition of my crucial and powerful role as an attachment figure and developmental partner
a good chance of feeling joy in my teaching on a regular basis
a need for support in wading through my complex and perplexing daily teaching experiences
I think learning is the
bee’s knees.
So is teaching. My theory of learning keeps me passionate about both.