Monday, August 20, 2007

Not an "either/or"

Businesses today ask not only for skilled workers but also for knowledge workers.

We need to craft skilled knowledge workers: a blending of the two, where the former compliments but does not eclipse the latter. Skills, according to Peter Drucker, change relatively slowly -- at least in comparison to knowledge, which changes itself.

We cannot give our students all of the knowledge -- or even most of it -- that they will need for their careers. Thus, we need to re-structure our system to better teach them critical thinking skills. We also need to cultivate our ability to look in dual directions: first to the product, then to the buyer.

Translation: to the student, then to the employer.

In the business world, when we manufacture goods, we craft the product to meet the needs of the end users. When we design the services we offer, we do the same. No one in his or her right mind, or even unreasonable mind, would create something with the intent to not sell it at all and to alienate the buyer.

So why are those of us in the business of education sometimes willing to do exactly that? We need to craft a graduate that can look at a problem, turn it inside-out and upside-down, tear it apart, and then come up with an answer.

Any answer.

So long as it's original, so long as it's the result of the attempt to think critically. Frankly, I love wrong answers. Be wrong, I tell my classes. This is where you can screw up as much as you want. All you risk is having to learn something new.

Last week I assigned my students to write five sentences fraught with subject-verb errors. It was, they told me, the hardest assignment that I had ever given them. Why? Because it demanded that they think backwards through the grammar rules; it forced them to consciously process the information rather then simply jot a few (correct) sentences down on paper.

Adding critical thinking practice doesn't have to be hard or time-consuming, we just need to think backwards ourselves.

How?
  • Play what if?
  • Ask what if we're wrong/right?
  • Combine the seemingly unrelated: assess classical literature while reading Freakonomics and studying economic incentives; or practice observation skills for any career via studying Renaissance art
  • Pair with other teachers -- even those from other schools in other states and nations. Use technology to create a global classroom to prepare them for the global economy. If the students grouse, remind them that it's a great way to network.
  • Whenever possible, avoid straight chapters. Think themes, for example: every economics chapter I teach comes back to the idea of human behavior (incentives) so that they can see the non-numbers side and, I believe, relevance of the so-called "dismal science." We still cover the required material, but not quite as the student expect.
  • Lastly, don't let their silence scare you as they ponder an answer. This isn't revolutionary; I was taught this tidbit over a decade ago at Seton Hill. Let your students marinate for a while, three or four minutes of silence can be healthy. Don't fall prey to our cultural need for noise and let silence unnerve you.
Once we get our students the the point where they can take ideas and combine them to create something new, we have the product that good employers are clamoring for: the employee who can think on his/her own.

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Next week I begin my third term adjuncting at Seton Hill. I have two classes, each a delightful and manageable size. Since this is the second time I've taught Western Cultural Traditions 1, I now have the luxury of time to tweak what is already in place. I'll keep you posted on how I draw them into "thinking backwards."

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

This und ep... this up end... this end up...

I write upside-down, looking at the page with a skewed eye, which often leads to the joke "that explains a lot."

Today I gave an introduction critical thinking skills in psych class. I asked my students to, in effect, take their ideas and hold them not only upside-down but also turn them inside-out. I asked them to question. To refuse to accept information just because it was in a textbook or just because someone with a title spouted it.

As I am wont to do, I put the steps into a simple list:
  1. What is being claimed?
  2. Have these claims been tested?
  3. Can related studies be replicated?
  4. What is the agenda of those who claim?

(To the seasoned critical thinker, you might be able to ask one question: who are you and what do you want?)

These four questions, I said, will help start the "still un-seasoned" critical thinker on his or her way to upside-down-inside-out thinking.

In short, I asked them to argue with and to challenge what I taught. I do not want to be the all-knowing sage on the stage. I'm not. I'm someone with more questions then answers herself. (Not that it has ever stopped me.)

And so I ask you, fellow thinkers, to turn your mental pages all about and ponder:
  • must we give exams at all?
  • why do groups need a set number of people?
  • can group exams work?
  • why can't we demand more rote memorization?

Well?

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Don't Be Evil

I like it. Sums things up pretty well, I think. Don't be evil. When you teach, teach with a purpose. Tie the theories into reality, show them that the six steps of the scientific method of research in psychology have actual points of relevance in the "real world."

Don't be evil. Hula-hoop a little. Punk your office-mate. Don't spite people.

Someone told me that this was Google's philosophy. Needless to say, I had to check that out. What I found was a set of ten ideals that, well, inspired me to think even more.

My favorite part of the top ten, however, was the disclaimer at the bottom. Within it are these words of wisdom:

Over time we've expanded our view ... and [things that once] seemed unlikely are now key... This doesn't mean we've changed our core mission; just that the farther we travel toward achieving it, the more those blurry objects on the horizon come into sharper focus (to be replaced, of course, by more blurry objects).

Why do I like it? Because it espouses the willingness to change as well as the willingness to accept uncertainty.

Be ready for change. Be ready to change.

(As my four-year-old says: "you can't not.")