First published in Dutch on the 30^th of January 2012

Influential

Information and communications technology (ICT) has nowadays become known as social media and has become an important subject. Its influence is undeniable. A huge number of people are being updated by it on all sorts of developments, nearly “real time”. High speed exchange helps them form an opinion and in the blink of an eye large groups of people can be mobilised. Ideas, emotions, and actions are connected on an impressive scale. The result might easily be called world-changing.

And education?

An obvious question is what social media can mean for education. I dare to admit that I witness the way social media is capable in evoking such enthusiasm with slight jealousy. Of course, the field of education also wants to connect ideas, emotions and actions in order to mobilise our students.

I am definitely not computer-illiterate. I make use of smartboards, internet and intranet to present information, to distribute exercises and assignments, and to communicate with my students. And I am not the only one in that regard. Much has changed in education. The possibilities to use social media to teach dynamically and variedly seem inexhaustible. Development is so rapid and allows for so much dynamism that I am almost constantly wondering whether I am using it enough. Am I up to date? Am I not lacking behind?

There are many other possibilities

Computer experts, in fact, have the tendency to raise doubt rather than to resolve it. According to them there are always many other possibilities. Digital reservoirs such as YouTube, Wikipedia, and Khan Academy are inexhaustible sources of information. Facebook, LinkedIn, and Twitter are superfast forms of media for sharing and requesting information. Every day, fine new Apps are released to weigh, measure, categorise, organise, etc. Together, they almost form a “perfect storm” of possibilities.

Admirable, but…

I welcome all entrepreneurship in this field. As I have said, I also use some of it to make my teaching more interactive. It absolutely stimulates my creativity of which I see the positive results. But I also notice that the developments are almost uninhibited and unguided. We seem to be getting a bit hyper. We are all familiar with the speed and eagerness with which twitter is used. Critical articles are being written on this subject too. How much information can be conveyed in two hundred characters? Is there any meaning to a tweet about a tweet about a tweet, etc.?

Insatiable

The use of social media seems to be something insatiable that has, I think, certain risks for education. Sometimes I associate it with a pre-schooler feeding ducks. It starts out nice and sweet, but the ducks come closer and closer, making the child throw the bread quicker and quicker. This only makes the ducks come closer again and the child, slightly tense, throws even quicker. At one point, the “sweet image” of a child feeding ducks has changed into something frantic that has nothing to do with feeding anymore. The ducks’ hunger is insatiable and eventually the child just throws the whole bag of breadcrumbs at them. Is it possible that in education this “sweet image” can also change into something undesirable and that perhaps no longer has anything to do with education?

An example from my own practice

In different educational trajectories, I introduce my students to the concept of the utility box. This is a mental gathering place for all sorts of beneficial thoughts (instruments) that students can apply in situations where they have trouble to act adequately (due to stress, fear, frustration, doubt, etc.). These thoughts must be taken broadly. These can be idioms, mottos or slogans, but also songs, poems, imagery, films, clips. Even more symbolic thoughts such as a cross or the yin and yang symbol can form excellent beneficial thoughts (one of my students has added dominoes to his utility box, after my class).

I illustrate this idea, among others, by means of a few YouTube videos that could function as examples in stressful situations. I play, for instance, “Always look on the bright side of life”, the amazing song that is sung in Monty Python’s Life of Brian. And also the song “Ik heb een heel zwaar leven [translation: I have a very tough life]” by Brigitte Kaandorp.

Wonderful and fun

The students think it is wonderful and soon some of them open a huge can of clips, sketches, songs and videos that they think are great. They also share them with each other (through Facebook for instance). Their enthusiasm and drive are very beautiful and many social media gurus would see this as evidence that they are right.

It is indeed wonderful, but their eagerness threatens to overshadow the purpose of the assignment. It is not about finding as many “fun” clips as possible. I have seen how this can lead to an escape from the unpleasant situations, a sort of escapism. The desired beneficial thoughts are useful objects that one ought to apply in unpleasant situations in order to get rid of frustration, irritation, fear, and stress without avoiding them. They must give you the power to continue after a setback.

Not always fun

These thoughts do not have to be fun all the time. Qualitatively, they must be much stronger than “fun”. They only become this when they represent something personal, private, and valuable. They only become powerful once they hook up to the meaningful experiences that are hidden in your own personal history. You cannot therefore simply take them from the internet. You cannot just google it. Only when the students realise this and are willing to commit themselves to the necessary (self-reflective) effort to formulate powerful beneficial thoughts, will a true moment of learning be created that I have in mind.

Moments of learning

The moments of learning is the experience that I care about and that all of us in education should care about. A video, sketch or song is not a learning moment. At most, it can be at the service of such a moment. This is not only the case for the new media. It is also the case for hardcore educational objects and formulas, theories and procedures. These are not the goals of education. What we want and are able to do with them are is the goal.

Socrates once said that knowledge is devoid of meaning when it does not add to moral behaviour. As educational psychologist I support this idea, but I would rather see that “moral” is replaced by “conscious” or “engaged”. In earlier essays (Nothing is more practical than a good theory and What is comprehension?), I have aligned learning to changing. It is not brief and superficial. A moment of learning is a profound moment.

Basketball

Social media can definitely add to profound learning moments. In a debate I participated in about social media and education, the speaker played a video that a mathematics teacher had made of himself in which he threw a basketball into a hoop. He had chosen such a perspective and edited the video in such a way that his students could use the shapes and formulas of a parabola to predict whether the ball would go in or not. Wonderful! Thanks to this man, I all of a sudden realised/understood that all projectiles have a parabolic trajectory and that mathematics is able to describe this in a beautiful way. Mathematics and sports go hand in hand!

If I had known this sooner, I would have taken my daughter to a basketball field immediately when she asked me in frustration why, in heaven’s name, she was learning about parabolic functions in her mathematics classes. Learning and fun ought to go hand in hand as long as possible. But in the case of fun there does not necessarily have to be a learning moment involved, while in learning, this is essential. For me to achieve this I would even have gone through the internet to have found that video.

First published in Dutch on the 16^th of November 2011

The message not to read but to search

I counsel many students who are dyslexic. I used to bring them together with non-dyslexic students in a course focussed on study strategies. The central message of that course was that you should not simply read everything, but search strategically for information. Nowadays I explain it in this way:

“You can compare studying to solving a mystery. You are Sherlock Holmes or a CSI agent. You continually search for clues to solve the mystery. However, it is not about the identity of the killer or the circumstances of the crime scene. Instead, it is about what the subject matter is, what the important bits are, and what you are supposed to do with it. The clues are scattered everywhere; in books, articles, papers, lectures, seminars, assignments, tutors, fellow and senior students. Maybe even with a lost librarian! It is up to you not to start learning EVERYTHING like a headless chicken, but to think, to browse critically, and to draw connections so that you will eventually solve the mystery”.

 A gift, or is it?

You’d think that a course that is able to convert this message to concrete strategies and techniques would be a gift from heaven for a dyslexic. Finally, there is an alternative to that cursed reading so many of these students invest frustrating amounts of energy in. After all, reading is an exceptional inefficient strategy for acquiring knowledge. At university, this strategy mostly leads to problems because even “normal” students are not able to read everything, let alone someone with dyslexia.

But the dyslexic students in my courses often had great trouble to apply the offered strategies. “I can’t refrain from reading all of it,” or “I am scared to skip parts,” were frequent remarks. Other students sometimes also thought it strange to search for information instead of reading everything, but they didn’t show the same resistance or right-out blockade in applying these alternative techniques.

A different experience

How can this be explained? Why do dyslexic students cling so convulsively onto reading even though this is their weakest skill? When I immersed myself into this situation, I was confronted with a well-known insight that ought to be central to any counsellor and any form of counselling; the experience of the student is paramount! And the school experience of someone with dyslexia is different from someone without dyslexia. The difference can be explained by means of the following analogy;

A swimming instructor wants to teach two students how to swim. Both are floating in the water, hanging from a buoy. They move forward by treading the water, but obviously go a lot slower than is desired. The first student is used to moving forward in this way, relatively relaxed, though still slightly frustrated. The swimming coach asks him to let go of the buoy. He does so, his head dunks under for a moment, but soon surfaces. His technique is awkward but now the coach can get started with the lessons and provide him with specific instructions.

The second student is also used to bobbing about in this way, but floats a lot less relaxed. With him it is more a matter of fear than frustration, because the water comes up to his lips. When he is asked to let go of the buoy, he does so obediently, but panics the moment he starts sinking. He quickly surfaces and clings onto the buoy again. All further attempts to make him let go lead to the same result; release-panic-cling. He does want to swim, but is incapable of overcoming his panic attacks. As an instructor, I cannot even start with the class.

It does not matter what they say

I have noticed that dyslexic students often fall into the second category. They want to learn how to study differently, but normally already experience so much pressure that a change of strategy throws them into “uncharted waters”. This leads to panic and the tendency to cling to familiar methods, even though they already know them to be defective. A deep uncertainty dominates. A student was once able to explain her experience to me very clearly. “I have known for a long time that I am a dyslexic. Everyone has always told me that it has nothing to do with intelligence. But it doesn’t matter what they say. I have always seen how I need twice as much time than my girlfriends and often get lower grades than they do. In what way am I just as clever then?”

This is reality for most dyslexics. Research indeed shows that it has nothing to do with limited intelligence and we can keep on explaining this to the students as long as we want, but their experience is simply different. There is no point in denying this or to paint it as a misconception. After all, this is also based on facts. Perhaps these are different facts than those that come from scientific research, but they are facts just as same.

Experience as vantage point

Ever since, I have tried to understand the experience of the students better. Apparently, they think they have to play the “game” by the same rules as the others. In football terms: if everyone is right-footed than I have to be right-footed too, even though I am left-footed. The result is that they systematically play worse than those who are naturally right-footed. They don’t realise such a limiting rule does not even exist. To stick with football: you can also use your left-footed, inside of the foot, outside of the foot, tip, heel, knee, chest, head, etc. The playing-field of learning offers room for many creative methods!

Many students think that information has to be read from start to finish and has to be processed in one go. In higher education, however, many of them are confronted with the unattainability of these goals and are luckily willing to set aside or alter their convictions. With dyslexic students, this is more complicated. In their eyes, their fellow students do actually take in information effortlessly by simply reading. That goal is, from this perspective, not at all unreasonable. They see their inability to achieve that goal as a personal defect. Subsequently, they hold onto that method even more strongly to prove that they can do it.

What instruction cannot do, but counselling should be able to do

The swimming instructor cannot do much as long as the student clings onto the buoy, but I think that a counsellor should have more to offer. Each time, I try to expose and explore the student’s experience. I want to show the student how his own obstructive convictions and undermining feelings sustain his ineffective behaviour. Only when the student realises that his own stubbornness obstructs him from achieving his goals, will he be open to real adjustments.

Real adjustments do not stem from an unrealistic ideal of how it really should be done (you ought to be right-footed!). They are the adjustments that bend the existing, unconstructive mechanisms. In order to do this, one needs to accept the existing situation (including the accompanying experience of thoughts, behaviour, and feelings) as a factual given and not as a cumbersome misconception (“You see it wrong!” the counsellor says) or as a weakness that must not be given into (“I don’t want to hear it!” says the student).

A dyslexic experiences the school world in a different way than someone without dyslexia. Perhaps the dyslexic is the first who has to accept this.

First published in Dutch on the 4^th of October 2011

Misplaced Pride

“I am quite the perfectionist” a student says when I ask him what I can do for him. He says it a bit wearily, but also with a subtle tinge of pride. After all, this is the sort of statement you make when, during a job interview, you are asked to list your weak points. The job applicant thinks he detects the encouraging smile on the manager’s face as he makes his “confession”, only to put more emphasis on his willingness to work very hard indeed.

This way, the student tries to convince me of the fact that, aside from his problems, he at least has the right mentality. Alas, he mistakes me for someone else; in both my role and my views. I am not a manager and I am certainly not amused in hearing such words. Perfectionism is definitely not something one should be proud of. In my view, the student has cursed rather than blessed himself with this typification. Only too often, do I see students succumb under the pressure to function perfectly.

Hard to counsel

Their misplaced pride makes these people often hard to counsel. I would rather counsel a procrastinator or a muddler. At least they realise that they are in trouble, and even if they are not aware of this, those around them are often quick to confront them. Thanks to this awareness, these people are usually easy to assist by means of practical tools to help them structure their week, set clear goals, and fine-tune their working method. Positive results soon follow and the accompanying positive feedback from one’s inner circle increases at an equal pace.

The perfectionist’s case is completely different. He might feel an unpleasant pressure to perform, but is simultaneously encouraged by a society that preaches that the world is fully comprehensible and malleable; that success is not only a choice, but, paradoxically enough, also a must. He sees that successes are applauded, any costs are ignored, and that failures are deeply frowned upon. All this is taken seriously to such an extent that he becomes too structured, the working method too strict, and the goals too ambitious. The perfectionist truly believes that success is malleable and an utter necessity. He is unable to refine the situation and failure, in his eyes, is not tolerated.

Regularity versus Orthodoxy

Perhaps these people should be compared to a strictly orthodox worshipper as opposed to a regular churchgoer. The latter of these extracts from his religion that which is useful and disregards the larger “inconveniences” that are related to it. The strictly religious person, however, views any slack it cuts itself, as a sign of weakness or a divergence from the straight path. The tragedy of the perfectionist is that the very same thing that gives him strength and meaning, threatens to destroy him.

A Learning Problem

Even though the perfectionist can be charged with a certain degree of orthodoxy, in this essay I do not aim to target the existential jam he forces himself into. Neither is he ready for therapy as such. It is more interesting to approach perfectionism as a learning problem. I also treat procrastination, being disorganized and ignorance as learning problems when the person in question is unable to remedy the problem themselves. Perfectionism might be the most persistent ailment on this list, but this does not make it a substantially different problem, as I aim to explain presently.

In my previous essay, I compared the learning process to homebuilding. This metaphor can be divided into three different forms of learning.

1. Construction: This is where something entirely new is built from scratch. It is entirely naïve and no use is made (or can be made) of previously gained experience or formerly acquired skills. In my book, I gave the example of taking driving lessons in which the knowledge construct of DRIVING is established.
2. Expansion: This form of learning uses an existing foundation as vantage point. In fact, the foundation is largely suitable and only needs expansion in a few places. When I trade my Citroën BX for an Audi A6, I can still use much of my knowledge construct of DRIVING and only have to expand some minor elements (e.g. coping with five or six gears, cruise control, build-in GPS, etc.) in order for me to benefit optimally from all the possibilities.
3. Renovation: Sometimes, it is impossible either to create something new, or to use the existing structure. In that case, you must “renovate”. You will have to deconstruct some existing parts in order to replace it with something better. If I were to emigrate to England, for instance, I would have to adapt my knowledge construct of DRIVING from being used to drive on the right-hand side to driving on the left-hand side. Expansion is insufficient; I will have to “demolish” driving on the right, in order not to be a danger on the road.

Renovation rather than Expansion

A large portion of the persistent learning problems can be explained by the fact that the people in question believe they only have to expand, while in reality, they must renovate. They would rather acquire another tip or trick than to really alter something in their lives. There are two reasons for this. Firstly, in practice, the third form of learning is much harder than the second (and the first too). This is because, in addition to learning, one must also unlearn. This is already difficult in itself because old habits often emerge when we are not thinking consciously or are caught in unfamiliar situations. Driving on the left side on a straight road in England is manageable, but try to do this on an intersection and you are soon to be confronted with how vulnerable your new driving behaviour is. The second reason why we prefer to expand is that we are naturally inclined to resist adjustments. That is to say, we tend to approach the world deductively. We develop outlooks (knowledge constructs) and look for affirmations of them in the world. We ignore falsification until we are left with no other choice.

Willing to Change

The persistent learning problems I come across in my practice are frequently an expression of an erroneous assessment of the situation, mistakes, for that matter, we all make. Students think they are willing to change, but in reality, they want a straightforward expansion to their working method in the form of a technique, strategy, or artifice. Their problems, however, demand them to unlearn things, often things they do not want to unlearn. The idle student who consistently begins every morning with an extensive breakfast and a paper in order to “get the motor going” and subsequently thinks that there is time to spare for studying while he is lazily surfing the internet, has to alter his view on his morning ritual. Apparently, the strategy of starting the day calmly does not work. Planning ahead even better or getting out of bed even earlier, serves no purpose if he is not willing to tackle that starting point.

Road Abusers

The procrastinator can be compared to the driver who consistently leaves home too late because he dreads having to fill up the tank, check the tires and oil level, and clean the windows. It is important to show him that these measures will improve driving and make sure he will reach his destination more pleasantly. Isn’t that what it is all about? Only with this change of perspective, will it be possible to help him devise a working method that will contribute to this.

The muddler immediately starts driving, has forgotten to fill the tank, visualises his destination, but has no clue of how to get there. This makes him susceptible to be distracted by any impulse (side road) that springs to mind, and every panoramic view that he crosses along the way. He will have to realise that his “relaxed free-roaming” is at the direct expense of his destinations (goals) and that a GPS (schedule) might be useful.

The Perfectionistic Road Abuser

It can be quite a challenge to provide the above-mentioned cases with the insight they need in order to truly learn. The analogy of driving can clarify why the perfectionist is even harder to help. He drives perfectly within the legal speed limit while everyone overtakes him, sounding their horns. He complies precisely to the two-second rule for distance with the consequence that someone continually merges right in front of him. He will certainly not park in reverse until nobody (not even a cycler!) passes by, causing quite a jam of impatient road users behind him. In short: the perfectionist wants to comply to the driving regulations perfectly in a world that doesn’t. He neatly collects the statistics for road traffic accidents and is very aware of what could possibly go wrong.

So this driver is right! But he also has a problem. He searches for safety and security by complying to the rules and by estimating the risks, even though blindly applying all traffic rules and knowing all road accident statistics, can lead to unsafe situations. The perfectionist sees all this, but draws the conclusion that he must comply to the rules even more strictly and has to know even more statistics. A vicious circle is created that can lead to a lot of pressure.

Perfectionists have to realise that they have to comply to the rules more flexibly in order to be safe and self-confident “on the road”. But this requires him to adjust his understanding that is somewhat more fundamental than realising that “changing oil” or “purchasing a GPS device” could be useful. He will have to accept that he cannot control everything and that being right is not the same as being proved right.