Alright, everyone - I'm going to just come right out and admit it. I. LOVE. Video games. Now, I really enjoyed all the reading for this module, and I was a student musician who can relate to being in that perfect state of flow, but what I really want to talk about is the Dickey article.
But first I have to say this - sometimes the stigma of being an English teacher just isn't fair. Tell me you haven't imagined me sitting in my high-backed leather chair by the fire, reading poetry or Austen and listening to classical music, dressed in a cardigan and with a cat on my lap. Admit it! I know that's the prevailing assumption - I even had a guy ask me at the gym once if I had one of "those" sweaters. I am not kidding. So I absolutely delight in the moments in school when I have an opportunity to share my gaming habits with the kids. "You play video games?" "You have a Wii?!?" "You play Just Dance?!?!" Talk about messing with their prior knowledge...
Personally, I always preferred the adventure games, the ones with quests and fantasy elements - and I owe a lot of my problem-solving skills to Link, Zelda, and that little fairy guide. I was never one for the shooting games, although I have the utmost respect for what's being done with the design of these games. How can anyone look at these graphics and not take math seriously? It's just brilliant.
But to return to a more academic discussion of the matter... Dickey's got it exactly right. It's not about making classrooms a free-for-all video arcade; it's about learning a thing or two from video game design. And I'm sure we've all thought about this before - how can we harness the power of these games that can take otherwise apathetic, attention-lacking students and make them so hyper-focused and motivated to succeed? I've had many conversations with students about the instant gratification found in the immediate feedback of solving a mathematics or chemistry equation as compared to their English assignments, but the video game analogy works much better. Why else would students keep doing the same thing over and over and over again? I don't think any of us would approach diagramming sentences over and over with such enthusiasm (or would we?).
The connections that I found most exciting were those relating video games to the student's role as investigator, adventurer, problem-solver and inquirer. That students experience engaged learning when they "analyze, synthesize, evaluate, and employ critical thinking skills as they make decisions and determine the course of their actions" (Dickey, 2005, p70). Now, can't that description can be applied to the objectives in the latest Zelda game as well as an inquiry project in which the students have choice, an authentic purpose and audience, and challenging tasks? Dickey explains that what we need to do is "create activities and environments that allow learners to become engaged in meaningful activities" (p70). I think the most significant concept here is meaningful. Ask me how much meaning the critical lens essay holds for my juniors...
I think the skeptics out there would scoff and say that no matter what we do, we cannot replicate what happens when kids are locked in to their gaming systems. I disagree - and I think that is entirely what the concept of Flow Theory is all about. I've seen it happen - usually in the library, when my kids are experiencing autonomy, collaborating, tracking down research leads, and doing work for a real purpose other than a grade. My librarian and I were thrilled to hear students meet us in the library and ask "can we get started right away?" before the bell rang or who wouldn't clean up their reading materials or laptops on time because they needed to finish one more thing (aka - just one more level, mom!).
I think the real question is - how do we get other educators to realize this? To trust that such instructional design will meet the curriculum goals and work the skills necessary to pass the exams? If you have an answer, tell me. Because right now, all I'm doing is preaching to the choir.
Dickey, M. D. (2005). Engaging by design: How engagement strategies in popular computer and video games can inform
instructional design. Educational Technology Research and Development, 53 (2), pp 67-83.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Friday, July 29, 2011
Happy Teachers = Effective Teachers
I want to start first by saying that I was really excited to be able to look at the different measurement tools on the Self-Determination Theory site; I think this certainly helps in addressing the questions several of us have had in terms of the research process and effective data collection. I found myself wanting to take these questionnaires and administer them to my colleagues and students. I found that idea both intriguing (and perhaps a little bit unnerving) when looking at the "Motivators' Orientation" questionnaires... I identify as a teacher supportive of students' autonomy in class and as one who tries not to be controlling - but would my students say the same? These tools (such as the Problems in Schools and Perceived Autonomy Support questionnaires) might be good to administer as a mid-year barometer of student/teacher perceptions. Gulp. I'll tell you how it goes. And yes - I am quickly becoming a Ryan & Deci groupie... Dr. Pusch, can you arrange an introduction? :)
I found the Isen & Reeve (2005) study, "The Influence of Positive Affect on Intrinsic and Extrinsic Motivation," to be very motivating reading. The researchers conducted two different experiments testing both positive affected and neutral affected participants' use of free time to engage in choice between two tasks: one considered "interesting" ( a 3D puzzle to be physically assembled using an illustrated model) and one considered "uninteresting" (the identifying of letter strings in alphabetical order from a large chart of strings). The results showed that earlier assumptions about positive affect and its potential contribution to irresponsible or simplistic behavior are invalid; rather, the data shows that "feeling happy, even though it promotes enjoyment of enjoyable tasks, leads at the same tine to forward-looking thinking, self-control, and the ability to stay on task, even on a task that may be uninteresting or unpleasant" (p 318). This relates to a more sophisticated understanding of intrinsic and extrinsic motivation, in that activities defined as either "fun" or as "work" are not mutually exclusive: "enjoying the puzzle task more did not lead people in positive affect to neglect the work that needed to be done; and needing to spend some of the available time working on the unappealing task did not interfere with increased enjoyment of the enjoyable task" (p 319).
In other words, creating classrooms where students can enjoy themselves, feel happy, and - dare I say it - have fun, is not the sign of superficial, unprofessional and unsuccessful instruction and learning some people think it is. Personally, it seems pretty common sense to me - that when experiencing positive emotions, students would then have greater enjoyment and potentially greater achievement in learning activities. I am really tired of "FUN" being a dirty word in education. And as far as I'm concerned, the readings from this class have provided me with the evidence I need to argue in defense of fun in learning.
So what's in my locus of control? My understanding that the type of classroom environment I establish with my students - one that is emotionally supportive, allows for autonomy and inquiry, respects choice and reinforces students' experiences of success - is within my (internal) power to control. By approaching my role as the teacher with a positive affect, I can ultimately be more effective in that role.
I found the Isen & Reeve (2005) study, "The Influence of Positive Affect on Intrinsic and Extrinsic Motivation," to be very motivating reading. The researchers conducted two different experiments testing both positive affected and neutral affected participants' use of free time to engage in choice between two tasks: one considered "interesting" ( a 3D puzzle to be physically assembled using an illustrated model) and one considered "uninteresting" (the identifying of letter strings in alphabetical order from a large chart of strings). The results showed that earlier assumptions about positive affect and its potential contribution to irresponsible or simplistic behavior are invalid; rather, the data shows that "feeling happy, even though it promotes enjoyment of enjoyable tasks, leads at the same tine to forward-looking thinking, self-control, and the ability to stay on task, even on a task that may be uninteresting or unpleasant" (p 318). This relates to a more sophisticated understanding of intrinsic and extrinsic motivation, in that activities defined as either "fun" or as "work" are not mutually exclusive: "enjoying the puzzle task more did not lead people in positive affect to neglect the work that needed to be done; and needing to spend some of the available time working on the unappealing task did not interfere with increased enjoyment of the enjoyable task" (p 319).
In other words, creating classrooms where students can enjoy themselves, feel happy, and - dare I say it - have fun, is not the sign of superficial, unprofessional and unsuccessful instruction and learning some people think it is. Personally, it seems pretty common sense to me - that when experiencing positive emotions, students would then have greater enjoyment and potentially greater achievement in learning activities. I am really tired of "FUN" being a dirty word in education. And as far as I'm concerned, the readings from this class have provided me with the evidence I need to argue in defense of fun in learning.
So what's in my locus of control? My understanding that the type of classroom environment I establish with my students - one that is emotionally supportive, allows for autonomy and inquiry, respects choice and reinforces students' experiences of success - is within my (internal) power to control. By approaching my role as the teacher with a positive affect, I can ultimately be more effective in that role.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Sorry, everyone, for my late posting. :( I put too much on my plate this week and subsequently ran out of time to get it all done. Perhaps you could say I engaged in self-sabotaging behavior by acting as an overstriver engaged in irrational goal setting, and who now feels the need to apologize as a defensive attempt at self-worth protection... (thank you, Covington!).
The first thing I want to address is that I am fortunate to have read work by this week's authors before; in Fall '09 I took RED 700, which was a research readings course focusing on reading comprehension. There was a small section and a few articles in the handbook about motivation and its connection to students' comprehension; the lit review I completed for that class is what led me to taking this very course, having come to a heightened awareness about the topic of motivation itself. I read articles by Wigfield, Ryan & Deci then, which explains why I'm more comfortable with the continuum of motivational stages than I am at sifting through the other various theories and models (although with MAB's helpful chart on the wiki, it's all starting to come together - thank you!!!!) I find their research to be very helpful in negotiating that tricky place in the secondary classroom, when so much of the "tasks" to be completed are less than compelling in design. To see these theorists subcategorize motivation to allow for greater variance in extrinsic motives certainly helps to move us away from the intrinsic=good/extrinsic=bad framework. Because talk about setting yourself up for failure by setting unattainable goals - by thinking we can be 100% intrinsically motivated at all times? No wonder we're all so tired...
I am very intrigued by Covington's (2000) Goals-Cognition-Achievement sequence. This relationship helped me to really understand the difference between performance goals and learning goals, and to know that "adopting learning goals was positively associated with deep-level processing, persistence, and high effort, a combination that also led to increases in achievement" (p 177). (So I'll be returning to my assignment #1 and changing some of the curriculum lingo). I was also greatly interested in the discussion of prosocial goals as they relate to achievement goals. It's certainly true: as our kids get older, they are more likely to encounter competition in their classrooms than they are cooperation. And yet everything we know now about the 21st century skills says we need to prepare them otherwise; that successful adults will work in collaborative settings and not the factory-model work places of the 19th and 20th centuries. Yet we still structure our classes, curriculum and grading/ranking policies according to individual achievement, reward or punishment. Of course, isn't that how we manage our teachers, too?
The purpose of this blog is to reflect about how the readings are informing our practice. Well I can certainly promise that what I've read thus far is having a huge impact on how I'm thinking about my role in my classroom, in my school and as a member of my faculty. When going through my day and completing tasks, how am I being motivated? Am I going through the motions (much like students filling out worksheets because the teacher said so), or am I engaged in serious inquiry, being creative and taking initiative, and acting in self-determined ways? Reading about this makes me think again about my juniors, from my head-above-water students just passing a Regents-level course to my AP students duking it out for the 98. How often are they thinking/wondering/questioning "why" they're completing tasks - and if they aren't, why are we questioning it with/for them?
A few years ago I read an excellent book that I'd like to share with you now. It's called Overachievers: The Secret Lives of Driven Kids, by Alexandra Robbins. (Click here to link to the author's website.) This book so speaks to the phenomena we're discussing here: how so much of the beauty in learning has gotten lost in the "game" of learning. This book traces a group of students as they go through a school year as juniors and seniors in high school, engaged in the college search and application processes. In between narratives following these teens, the author interjects research about our modern culture of schools and all that affects it: over-scheduled kids being shuffled all over town from one practice to the next; the rise in sports-related injuries in young kids; the college-prep industry of tutors, private schools, and personal advisors; standardized exams and cheating, and so on. I've had several students read this book in the past few years (and all have responded like I did... why, that's our school!), and this summer I assigned it as summer reading for my incoming AP class (we have a summer reading program that asks students to read at least two books from a large selection revised each year with student input; some advanced classes have specific requirements, but I am not one to engage in immediate assessment on Day 1 - I use it more as a chance to set a cultural tone for the class). I am really excited to hear what the kids have to say. Not only does it challenge them because they've read almost no nonfiction, but it will allow us to begin the year by addressing some of the issues we're reading about here with motivation. I hope to model the introspection necessary to consider and perhaps redefine their relationship with learning - as one in which they're deeply involved and in control. And maybe they can even enjoy it, while they're at it. :)
CovingtonAnnual Review of Psychology, 51, 171-200.
Eccles, J. S. & Wigfield, A. (2002). Motivational beliefs, values and goals. Annual Review of Psychology, 2002, 53, 109-32.
Robbins, Alexandra. (2006). Overachievers: The secret life of driven kids. Hyperion.
Ryan, R. M. & Deci, E. L. (2000). Intrinsic and extrinsic motivations: Classic definitions and new directions. Contemporary Educational Psychology, 25, 54-67.
The first thing I want to address is that I am fortunate to have read work by this week's authors before; in Fall '09 I took RED 700, which was a research readings course focusing on reading comprehension. There was a small section and a few articles in the handbook about motivation and its connection to students' comprehension; the lit review I completed for that class is what led me to taking this very course, having come to a heightened awareness about the topic of motivation itself. I read articles by Wigfield, Ryan & Deci then, which explains why I'm more comfortable with the continuum of motivational stages than I am at sifting through the other various theories and models (although with MAB's helpful chart on the wiki, it's all starting to come together - thank you!!!!) I find their research to be very helpful in negotiating that tricky place in the secondary classroom, when so much of the "tasks" to be completed are less than compelling in design. To see these theorists subcategorize motivation to allow for greater variance in extrinsic motives certainly helps to move us away from the intrinsic=good/extrinsic=bad framework. Because talk about setting yourself up for failure by setting unattainable goals - by thinking we can be 100% intrinsically motivated at all times? No wonder we're all so tired...
I am very intrigued by Covington's (2000) Goals-Cognition-Achievement sequence. This relationship helped me to really understand the difference between performance goals and learning goals, and to know that "adopting learning goals was positively associated with deep-level processing, persistence, and high effort, a combination that also led to increases in achievement" (p 177). (So I'll be returning to my assignment #1 and changing some of the curriculum lingo). I was also greatly interested in the discussion of prosocial goals as they relate to achievement goals. It's certainly true: as our kids get older, they are more likely to encounter competition in their classrooms than they are cooperation. And yet everything we know now about the 21st century skills says we need to prepare them otherwise; that successful adults will work in collaborative settings and not the factory-model work places of the 19th and 20th centuries. Yet we still structure our classes, curriculum and grading/ranking policies according to individual achievement, reward or punishment. Of course, isn't that how we manage our teachers, too?
The purpose of this blog is to reflect about how the readings are informing our practice. Well I can certainly promise that what I've read thus far is having a huge impact on how I'm thinking about my role in my classroom, in my school and as a member of my faculty. When going through my day and completing tasks, how am I being motivated? Am I going through the motions (much like students filling out worksheets because the teacher said so), or am I engaged in serious inquiry, being creative and taking initiative, and acting in self-determined ways? Reading about this makes me think again about my juniors, from my head-above-water students just passing a Regents-level course to my AP students duking it out for the 98. How often are they thinking/wondering/questioning "why" they're completing tasks - and if they aren't, why are we questioning it with/for them?
A few years ago I read an excellent book that I'd like to share with you now. It's called Overachievers: The Secret Lives of Driven Kids, by Alexandra Robbins. (Click here to link to the author's website.) This book so speaks to the phenomena we're discussing here: how so much of the beauty in learning has gotten lost in the "game" of learning. This book traces a group of students as they go through a school year as juniors and seniors in high school, engaged in the college search and application processes. In between narratives following these teens, the author interjects research about our modern culture of schools and all that affects it: over-scheduled kids being shuffled all over town from one practice to the next; the rise in sports-related injuries in young kids; the college-prep industry of tutors, private schools, and personal advisors; standardized exams and cheating, and so on. I've had several students read this book in the past few years (and all have responded like I did... why, that's our school!), and this summer I assigned it as summer reading for my incoming AP class (we have a summer reading program that asks students to read at least two books from a large selection revised each year with student input; some advanced classes have specific requirements, but I am not one to engage in immediate assessment on Day 1 - I use it more as a chance to set a cultural tone for the class). I am really excited to hear what the kids have to say. Not only does it challenge them because they've read almost no nonfiction, but it will allow us to begin the year by addressing some of the issues we're reading about here with motivation. I hope to model the introspection necessary to consider and perhaps redefine their relationship with learning - as one in which they're deeply involved and in control. And maybe they can even enjoy it, while they're at it. :)
CovingtonAnnual Review of Psychology, 51, 171-200.
Eccles, J. S. & Wigfield, A. (2002). Motivational beliefs, values and goals. Annual Review of Psychology, 2002, 53, 109-32.
Robbins, Alexandra. (2006). Overachievers: The secret life of driven kids. Hyperion.
Ryan, R. M. & Deci, E. L. (2000). Intrinsic and extrinsic motivations: Classic definitions and new directions. Contemporary Educational Psychology, 25, 54-67.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Extracurricular Posting
Hello everyone! This is not my response to the reading for Module 3 (although I am working to complete the articles and intend to post again before the end of the day, so stay tuned!). I am adding an extra entry here to discuss an experience I am having this week that I think really speaks to our discussions of motivation and isntruction.
This week I am participating in a humanities seminar for high school teachers at Colgate University. The description (from the seminar poster sent to local high schools) is as follows:
"The guiding theme of Plato’s Republic is that we can learn about
the human soul by comparing it to an ideal city-state. At the same
time, Plato envisions a rigorous system of education for the children
of his ideal state that will shape their souls so that they are suited
to sustain that state. In this seminar, we will explore Plato’s controversial
views on education and social organization. We will also
consider challenges to those views in writings by Montaigne and
Rousseau. In addition, we will investigate the entwining of king and
state in Shakespeare’s Richard II, and the challenge of education
and self-development in a contemporary theocracy in the memoir
Reading Lolita in Tehran.
We will meet for intensive discussion of these works for four hours
each day. The workshop is open to all high school and middle
school teachers. Enrollment is limited to fifteen participants, to
allow ample opportunity for discussion. Thanks to generous
support from Colgate’s Division of the Humanities, the Upstate
Institute, the Dean of the Faculty, and individual departments in
the humanities, there is no charge for participants."
This was a free seminar offered to middle and high school teachers. We were supplied with the books being studied, treated to lunch on campus, given time to meditate and converse (1.5 hour lunchtimes!), and regarded with the utmost collegiate respect by talented faculty. Aside from coming prepared with the readings, there has been no assessment - no collection of written responses to be graded, no expectation of a final project to be implemented. I'm completing a learning experience that contradicts almost every characteristic of supposed successful schooling... and yet I'm having one of the most enlightening, most intrinsically gratifying intellectual experiences of my career.
Now, there could be several reasons for this that have nothing to do with the educational design, but instead are really more about me as the learner (for example, my own learner history, my own patterns of attribution). But I think that there's something at work here that desperately needs examination. Yesterday's conversation of Montaigne's essay "On Education" led to a discussion of the true joy inherent in the act/art of learning, and I am reminded of the work we're doing in this class. If I followed the discourse properly, then it seems that Montaigne argued for a type of instruction that made learning - dare I say it - fun.
As I begin my doctoral work and consider the various avenues available for research and exploration, I continue to revisit these same ideas: reading, learning, motivation, inquiry, self-direction, literacy, curiosity... it may sound simplistic, but what I really want to know is this: why can't learning in high school be fun? Why does the word "fun" have to be so immediately equated with "simplistic?" Why can't we create classrooms where the act/art of learning is joyous, not in spite of but because it's challenging, uncomfortable and empowering?
A few months ago I had a powerful experience: I went to the Strong Museum of Play in Rochester, New York. If you haven't been, drop everything and go immediately. It's a children's museum that pays tribute to the imagination and the stages of childhood development, but I think it holds a special appeal for educators at all levels. And I think it may be informing my research in its infancy - why can't we look at secondary instruction as we do elementary instruction, as a manifestation of the relationship between learning and play, too? Personally, I think I'm on to something here... :)
So what is the connection here - why this additional post? I'm having fun, so I'm motivated to share about my experience, and my enthusiasm is (I hope) infectious. Maybe you can take the workshop with me next year!
This week I am participating in a humanities seminar for high school teachers at Colgate University. The description (from the seminar poster sent to local high schools) is as follows:
"The guiding theme of Plato’s Republic is that we can learn about
the human soul by comparing it to an ideal city-state. At the same
time, Plato envisions a rigorous system of education for the children
of his ideal state that will shape their souls so that they are suited
to sustain that state. In this seminar, we will explore Plato’s controversial
views on education and social organization. We will also
consider challenges to those views in writings by Montaigne and
Rousseau. In addition, we will investigate the entwining of king and
state in Shakespeare’s Richard II, and the challenge of education
and self-development in a contemporary theocracy in the memoir
Reading Lolita in Tehran.
We will meet for intensive discussion of these works for four hours
each day. The workshop is open to all high school and middle
school teachers. Enrollment is limited to fifteen participants, to
allow ample opportunity for discussion. Thanks to generous
support from Colgate’s Division of the Humanities, the Upstate
Institute, the Dean of the Faculty, and individual departments in
the humanities, there is no charge for participants."
This was a free seminar offered to middle and high school teachers. We were supplied with the books being studied, treated to lunch on campus, given time to meditate and converse (1.5 hour lunchtimes!), and regarded with the utmost collegiate respect by talented faculty. Aside from coming prepared with the readings, there has been no assessment - no collection of written responses to be graded, no expectation of a final project to be implemented. I'm completing a learning experience that contradicts almost every characteristic of supposed successful schooling... and yet I'm having one of the most enlightening, most intrinsically gratifying intellectual experiences of my career.
Now, there could be several reasons for this that have nothing to do with the educational design, but instead are really more about me as the learner (for example, my own learner history, my own patterns of attribution). But I think that there's something at work here that desperately needs examination. Yesterday's conversation of Montaigne's essay "On Education" led to a discussion of the true joy inherent in the act/art of learning, and I am reminded of the work we're doing in this class. If I followed the discourse properly, then it seems that Montaigne argued for a type of instruction that made learning - dare I say it - fun.
As I begin my doctoral work and consider the various avenues available for research and exploration, I continue to revisit these same ideas: reading, learning, motivation, inquiry, self-direction, literacy, curiosity... it may sound simplistic, but what I really want to know is this: why can't learning in high school be fun? Why does the word "fun" have to be so immediately equated with "simplistic?" Why can't we create classrooms where the act/art of learning is joyous, not in spite of but because it's challenging, uncomfortable and empowering?
A few months ago I had a powerful experience: I went to the Strong Museum of Play in Rochester, New York. If you haven't been, drop everything and go immediately. It's a children's museum that pays tribute to the imagination and the stages of childhood development, but I think it holds a special appeal for educators at all levels. And I think it may be informing my research in its infancy - why can't we look at secondary instruction as we do elementary instruction, as a manifestation of the relationship between learning and play, too? Personally, I think I'm on to something here... :)
So what is the connection here - why this additional post? I'm having fun, so I'm motivated to share about my experience, and my enthusiasm is (I hope) infectious. Maybe you can take the workshop with me next year!
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Trying to post my assignment #1...
But with not much success! I just tried to upload my .pptx to GoogleDocs and lost all of my formatting - now it's a mess. Any suggestions, anyone? https://docs.google.com/present/edit?id=0ASMq3eKXEbecZGYycDJxeHpfMDM0OWN4emc0&hl=en_US
In the meantime, please enjoy this complimentary video. :)
In the meantime, please enjoy this complimentary video. :)
Friday, July 15, 2011
Wish you were here...
The readings for this week touch upon many thoughts I've had recently about my students and my own teaching. I've been spending a lot of time thinking about what I want them to really get out of my class and out of high school in general, so that they can leave us more prepared for college - and I think I'm now at a point that I can verbalize what I want most for them. I want them to learn how to learn - how they best learn. That's it, really. As often as we talk about the books we read and the assignments we're writing, we find ourselves talking about how school works and what they are doing to be successful (or what they'll do differently next year when starting college). I enjoy those conversations so much, because I can tell they don't often get to have them.
So what happens when I have the opportunity to engage with readings such as these? I want to immediately go talk with "my kids" and hear what they think. I want to talk to them about their understanding of what motivates them to complete tasks, work toward goals. Do they engage in cognition about their learning behavior? How would my seniors characterize their ability and effort? To what would they attribute success and failure, and how does that further increase (or decrease) their motivation? Do they know/understand/think about the difference between intrinsic and extrinsic motivation? Can they discuss their approach to schoolwork as being characterized by performance goals or by mastery goals? Do they know that perhaps they CAN and SHOULD think about this - that to know themselves as learners could possibly result in even greater achievement (dependent upon, of course, how one defines "achievement")?
When I read the case studies in Pintrich & Schunk's From Motivation in Education: Theory, Research, and Applications, I think about all my different students and what they would say. I imagine my AP students who are clearly identifying with the "overstriver" type in Covington's expectancy-value model, whose primary motives for academic success come from competition with peers, expectancy for high grades or from fear of failure or social/familial punishment. I imagine my insecure underachievers who would rather feign indifference and forgetfulness than admit to the fact that they're afraid they can no longer meet the challenge. I think of how much true learning and teaching can so easily be eclipsed by task completion and grade accumulation. And that's not why I got into teaching - nor is it why my students enjoy my class.
This is an area of such great significance to me. I am trying to rethink my curriculum and its implementation - to change my approach so that my students' learning is not being gauged according to a checklist of activities, but instead by a series of metacognitive exercises. This past year I asked my students to engage in more self-assessment, written reflections about how they read and wrote (as opposed to what they read and wrote), and more analyses of the self. I think this is a good start.
But what if I share the actual research with them? What if I were to give my seniors a copy of figure 2.2 from P&S's chapter on expectancy-value theory, and ask what it meant to them as learners? As young adults about to enter a learning environment where the means by which one is motivated to work has suddenly changed?
One of the things I tell my students to always ask is this: "Why are we doing this?" Some people think that asking a teacher that question implies the student is being impertinent and insubordinate. I tell my kids it means they're thinking critically - identifying the goal of a given direction or behavior, and determining its personal or situational signifiance. I think that relates to these readings in that I want my students to have a greater sense of how they perceive themselves as learners. But as long as they are "expected" to sit quietly and complete the task, to not challenge or question or defend or argue or arouse or offend or exult or emote - well then, they may achieve the grade, but they won't achieve much else.
So what happens when I have the opportunity to engage with readings such as these? I want to immediately go talk with "my kids" and hear what they think. I want to talk to them about their understanding of what motivates them to complete tasks, work toward goals. Do they engage in cognition about their learning behavior? How would my seniors characterize their ability and effort? To what would they attribute success and failure, and how does that further increase (or decrease) their motivation? Do they know/understand/think about the difference between intrinsic and extrinsic motivation? Can they discuss their approach to schoolwork as being characterized by performance goals or by mastery goals? Do they know that perhaps they CAN and SHOULD think about this - that to know themselves as learners could possibly result in even greater achievement (dependent upon, of course, how one defines "achievement")?
When I read the case studies in Pintrich & Schunk's From Motivation in Education: Theory, Research, and Applications, I think about all my different students and what they would say. I imagine my AP students who are clearly identifying with the "overstriver" type in Covington's expectancy-value model, whose primary motives for academic success come from competition with peers, expectancy for high grades or from fear of failure or social/familial punishment. I imagine my insecure underachievers who would rather feign indifference and forgetfulness than admit to the fact that they're afraid they can no longer meet the challenge. I think of how much true learning and teaching can so easily be eclipsed by task completion and grade accumulation. And that's not why I got into teaching - nor is it why my students enjoy my class.
This is an area of such great significance to me. I am trying to rethink my curriculum and its implementation - to change my approach so that my students' learning is not being gauged according to a checklist of activities, but instead by a series of metacognitive exercises. This past year I asked my students to engage in more self-assessment, written reflections about how they read and wrote (as opposed to what they read and wrote), and more analyses of the self. I think this is a good start.
But what if I share the actual research with them? What if I were to give my seniors a copy of figure 2.2 from P&S's chapter on expectancy-value theory, and ask what it meant to them as learners? As young adults about to enter a learning environment where the means by which one is motivated to work has suddenly changed?
One of the things I tell my students to always ask is this: "Why are we doing this?" Some people think that asking a teacher that question implies the student is being impertinent and insubordinate. I tell my kids it means they're thinking critically - identifying the goal of a given direction or behavior, and determining its personal or situational signifiance. I think that relates to these readings in that I want my students to have a greater sense of how they perceive themselves as learners. But as long as they are "expected" to sit quietly and complete the task, to not challenge or question or defend or argue or arouse or offend or exult or emote - well then, they may achieve the grade, but they won't achieve much else.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Motivational Objective: "By the end of this course, I will experience confidence and satisfaction in my blogging activities."
I am both pleased and frustrated that this week's reading reinforces my perceptions about the concept of motivation: that it is "fuzzy" - difficult to understand, explain, measure and plan for. I suspected as much when deciding to take this class. Yes, I know I am fascinated by motivation and that I experience a strong desire to know what/how/why motivation affects my students. So I looked forward to an academic challenge allowing me to develop a greater understanding of its functionality in my classroom.
Yet I immediately resisted any attempts to define, structure, categorize, systematize, theorize, and any-other-ize "motivation" as put forth in the Keller articles. I even laughed at myself, realizing that I wanted greater knowledge and understanding, while leaving my romantic visions unsullied. So I tried to read through the Keller articles' outlines of the ARCS with the same patience I need when trying to revisit how to design a lesson plan from scratch, using the old formats from undergraduate classes (with all its components, transitions and the like). Of course it makes sense to break it down into its process, if for no other reason than to give us a means by which to communicate about it.
I'd like to think that my instruction pays attention to these characteristics - that my lessons and curriculum address my audience's need for attention, relevance, confidence and satisfaction - but I know there are areas in need of improvement. I am remembering incidences in my class that are positive examples of stimulating inquiry amongst students during research or designing tasks and assessments with greater student choice and control, but I'm also thinking of the times when my lessons fall into rote, formulaic structures and leave this passion by the wayside. Keller suggests we need to strike a balance for students between boredom and hyperactivity; I suggest that we as educators need to strike that same balance in ourselves.
Perhaps if we revisit curriculum, unit goals and lesson objectives, and look for places in which to consider - if not directly plan for the implementation of - such concepts, then maybe we can help young people develop that self-actualization and meta cognitive motivation. I mean, who wouldn't want a class that could be characterized by...
"Truth, rather than dishonesty.
Goodness, rather than evil.
Beauty, not ugliness or vulgarity.
Unity, wholeness, and transcendence of opposites, not arbitrariness or forced choices.
Aliveness, not deadness or the mechanization of life.
Uniqueness, not bland uniformity.
Perfection and necessity, not sloppiness, inconsistency, or accident.
Completion, rather than incompleteness.
Justice and order, not injustice and lawlessness.
Simplicity, not unnecessary complexity.
Richness, not environmental impoverishment.
Effortlessness, not strain.
Playfulness, not grim, humorless, drudgery.
Self-sufficiency, not dependency.
Meaningfulness, rather than senselessness." - Boeree, C. G. Abraham Maslow.
I know that's a lot of text to quote, but I want to make sure I can revisit this list later - as standards by which to design the ideal learning environment. I would feel motivated learning in this space...
And one more thing? About what else motivates me? Apparently, it's deadlines. I'll play it safer for Module 2. :)
Yet I immediately resisted any attempts to define, structure, categorize, systematize, theorize, and any-other-ize "motivation" as put forth in the Keller articles. I even laughed at myself, realizing that I wanted greater knowledge and understanding, while leaving my romantic visions unsullied. So I tried to read through the Keller articles' outlines of the ARCS with the same patience I need when trying to revisit how to design a lesson plan from scratch, using the old formats from undergraduate classes (with all its components, transitions and the like). Of course it makes sense to break it down into its process, if for no other reason than to give us a means by which to communicate about it.
I'd like to think that my instruction pays attention to these characteristics - that my lessons and curriculum address my audience's need for attention, relevance, confidence and satisfaction - but I know there are areas in need of improvement. I am remembering incidences in my class that are positive examples of stimulating inquiry amongst students during research or designing tasks and assessments with greater student choice and control, but I'm also thinking of the times when my lessons fall into rote, formulaic structures and leave this passion by the wayside. Keller suggests we need to strike a balance for students between boredom and hyperactivity; I suggest that we as educators need to strike that same balance in ourselves.
Perhaps if we revisit curriculum, unit goals and lesson objectives, and look for places in which to consider - if not directly plan for the implementation of - such concepts, then maybe we can help young people develop that self-actualization and meta cognitive motivation. I mean, who wouldn't want a class that could be characterized by...
"Truth, rather than dishonesty.
Goodness, rather than evil.
Beauty, not ugliness or vulgarity.
Unity, wholeness, and transcendence of opposites, not arbitrariness or forced choices.
Aliveness, not deadness or the mechanization of life.
Uniqueness, not bland uniformity.
Perfection and necessity, not sloppiness, inconsistency, or accident.
Completion, rather than incompleteness.
Justice and order, not injustice and lawlessness.
Simplicity, not unnecessary complexity.
Richness, not environmental impoverishment.
Effortlessness, not strain.
Playfulness, not grim, humorless, drudgery.
Self-sufficiency, not dependency.
Meaningfulness, rather than senselessness." - Boeree, C. G. Abraham Maslow.
I know that's a lot of text to quote, but I want to make sure I can revisit this list later - as standards by which to design the ideal learning environment. I would feel motivated learning in this space...
And one more thing? About what else motivates me? Apparently, it's deadlines. I'll play it safer for Module 2. :)
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