So, last week I tried to convince you that NOVELTY forms the
basis of learning—if something is “new” we pay attention to it. We can’t help it, that’s just the how the
brain works!
But on the other hand routine, standardization, automation
and sameness work well for us as teachers—it makes our professional lives a lot
easier! But it also may prove a
disservice to our students. It may
metaphorically (or literally) put our students’ brains to sleep.
So what are we to do?
Here’s the bottom line:
We choose. As harsh as it may
sound, we choose our own ease and comfort, or we choose to prioritize student
learning. Ouch. But this is what excellent teaching is all about.
I can be a mediocre or even a good teacher, or I can choose to strive to
be an excellent teacher. And the result of that choice is the kind of
learning experienced by my students.
A short aside: I hear
(and you do, too) people who are non-teachers complain about how “easy” teaching
is (and how overpaid teachers are). It
angers me and drives me nuts (er, more nuts that I already am). But sometimes I’m chagrined because if I
choose, it can be fairly easy,
especially with the “tools” that are available to me these days! The difficult part of teaching is the creative aspect—keeping things novel and
fresh and alive for students (and myself!)
So I make a choice. I
make a choice to attempt to have students experience something different and unexpected every class. I
try to make entering the classroom “novel” each period. (The greatest compliment I get is when I overhear
students say, “I never know what to expect when I come into this class!” I am fairly confident that they are probably
going to learn something that day.) I
consciously and conscientiously attempt to switch between the whiteboard,
Powerpoint presentations, discussions, lectures, YouTube videos and
movies. I change up the seating
arrangement, or have students move from “their own” seats to a different
location in the classroom.
Students don’t always like this, at least initially. They have been conditioned for more than a
dozen years to sit in rows, stay quiet and let someone else do much of their
thinking for them. But over the course
of the semester, I hope they begin to recover a genuine love of learning. I’m convinced the only way to accomplish this
is to “shake things up.” It may be good pedagogy,
but for sure it’s good neuroscience.
NOTE: I don’t do this
perfectly. Or consistently. Speaking candidly, I just get tired. My brain doesn’t function and my “creativity”
runs out. But after I quit feeling sorry
myself, and get revived, I strengthen my resolve to teach excellently. It’s a process that’s been going on for over
30 years, and isn’t finished yet.
Next week I’ll share another way I have tried to introduce
novelty in my courses—a rebel with a cause!
