Is it just me, or do we bandy about the phrase 'lifelong learning' a little too frivolously?
As an educator, I see and hear this phrase all the time. In mission statements. On Open Nights. During admissions tours. It's like schools everywhere want students to catch a learning bug so they'll carry that infectious desire with them for the rest of their lives.
It's a noble and beautiful cause, one that I'm fully behind. For all children on Earth, if possible. But this last week's motivation swings made me appreciate how difficult it is to keep learning as an adult. There are no teachers, grades, or college pressure, so there's far less need to learn anything on a voluntary basis. And let's not discount how the brain ages. What might have once taken me days to get now takes months of drills, tutorials, and spaced practice.
These aren't excuses, by the way. I'm still trucking along. I promise.
I'm still as excited as ever to make some good progress in all my learning goals - French, content editing, photography, and math. But I found myself drowning in a monotonous routine...that I created for myself. It's made me wonder how we might better organize time in schools than block schedules, but that's another subject for another day. I just knew I didn't want to repeat last week's slog through a learning schedule that I'd grown to despise. So I've decided to switch things up a bit this week...based on three teacher tricks I've used whenever things ever felt stale for students in my classroom -
- Change the strategy.
- Change the environment.
- Create a game.
- Commit to a timed break.
Change the strategy.
In the classroom
Have you seen the Youtube videos that try to debunk the one-size-fits-all label? Men and women of all different shapes, sizes, and figures tried on clothes that were labeled as such, often to hilarious effect.
And that's because there's really no such thing. I'll be damned if a tube top that fits a preteen can slip slip over one of my legs.
Most educators would agree - one way of learning does not always fit all. There's an emerging effort to address a wider diversity of learners by acknowledging firm goals and flexible means. Hold all students to the same goals, but be flexible about how students meet them. In my classroom with younger students, I'd usually refer to this as a choice.
A few years ago, my first graders and I were planning a bulletin board on our African Dwarf Frogs. I showed them the different recording sheets and supplies that they had available and gave them some time to make a choice. When they finally did, they were all different. My artistic scientists decided on diagrams and murals, while the strong writers chose to write short essays or FAQs. A few enterprising students thought out of the box by creating a true-false game with a circuit, and one creative duo chose create their own comic strip about two African dwarf frogs.
All of my students were expected to summarize and present their learnings. But instead of mandating that each one prove their capacity in the same manner (a singular test, worksheet, or activity), my young scientists were able to make a choice. And since they had a say in the matter, greater engagement was the cherry atop the learning pie.
What I'll do
When I thought about how I decided to become fluent in French, I realized I never gave myself a choice. I've been on Duolingo every day for three months, and it's a great springboard for those first stages. But even the most robust apps start to feel stale and over-routinized after daily use. So I'm giving myself some choices now, in the form of podcasts and - my personal favorite - French films.
It's how I learned most of my Korean - through soap operas and movies. After years of hearing new words and phrases used in context, I was able to pick it up far more organically than all the classes I took. I'm currently watching Stuck Together on Netflix and loving it. It's about a group of Parisians who are - as the title suggests - stuck together as tenants in an apartment building at the height of Covid (have any of you seen it? It's hilarious!) I know I'm watching it to learn the language, but I constantly find myself getting caught up in the fun of the story instead.
So far, watching movies has been a nice break from rote drills. It also makes me wonder how many of my yet-unfound favorite films might just be in another language.
Change the learning space.
In the classroom
At a certain point last year, my students were rarely in their assigned seats. And that was by design. The lab space was newly built the year I moved in, and it was stunning. But the architects that designed our lab space neglected to add ceiling tiles, which made for the most obnoxious echo-o-o every time someone spoke. You can imagine the cacophony that ensued when twenty plus children were all working and chatting at the same time.
Some students can function in loud spaces, but that wasn't me. And it certainly wasn't true of the students who kept their hands squarely clapped over their ears their first days in the space.
So, I let them out. After we met to discuss our work for the day, I gave students permission (within reason) to find a work space that fit their needs, whether it was in the hallway or even in the closet space. Even the ones that chose to stay in the echo chamber of our classroom wandered. Some wanted to work on carts and counter spaces, while others preferred to stay on the rug. Wherever they chose to be, they were held accountable for their work and most seemed to revel in the ability to choose a space that was right for them.
Sometimes, a small change in the environment makes for a world of difference. Adults are all-too-keen on announcing their work quirks, needs, and preferences; we just don't always remember that even young children are capable of understanding themselves so well.
What I'll do
I've been running a mile a day for over a month now. Being able to run 30+ miles a single mile at a time was such a game changer. It proved to me that time + consistency = growth, even with seemingly impossible goals. As a non-runner, it was exhilarating to know that I could train this body to do things it'd never done before.
But my goal wasn't to run forever. It was to stay reasonably healthy and active, especially now as I work from home. It was great to know that jogging was now an option, but I was bored of treadmills. So last week, I joined a kickboxing gym.
Boxing isn't a new sport for me, but it's been a few years. I've only had a few classes so far and it's been hard. Harder than anything I've ever done on my own. By the end of my first class, I left Hansel and Gretel sweat marks everywhere I walked on the mat because even the bottom of my feet were perspiring (don't worry - I cleaned up after myself). I was also pumped. Being in a class with coaches and fellow trainers suddenly made me push harder than I ever would have on a treadmill. Changing up the workout space seems to have - for now - restored some pep in my routine.
Create a game.
This is my favorite strategy. I can say so much on how game theory can be used to make goal-oriented growth, but we don't have time for all that. I'll just leave you with Ali Abdaal, one of my favorite productivity YouTubers, to explain it further if you're really curious. But I'm sure no one needs that much convincing to understand that learning is more fun through play.
So for the past couple of weeks, James and I invented a weekly Goals Competition. We each identified three health goals for ourselves and assigned a point for each. Whoever accrued the most points over the course of a week would win a $50 pot (we each forked over $25 at the start of the week).
So far, this has been the strongest motivator toward change for me, especially around things I didn't always feel like doing. I may not feel like running a mile, but I sure don't like losing. Or losing money at that. Ain't nothing like a game to show Jane's best efforts (and worst, since I'm hyper competitive and can get to be such a sore loser).
I created our score template on Canva and have it available below as a free download in case anyone out there is interested.
Commit to a timed break.
In the classroom
Students get burnt out, just as adults do. No matter the age, when a certain fire gets extinguished, there's no such thing as trying harder. There's no 'fake it till you make it'. There's just STOP.
The signs are different for all children, depending on their means of expression. Some of my students in past years have wailed with frustration, while others crossed their arms and simply refused to work. Either way, there were moments when - for whatever reason - my students hit a wall and no amount of cajoling would bring them back to their work.
This is when I asked them to quit. Just for a little while.
Quitting isn't a bad thing. Quitting also isn't failure. Sometimes committing to a short break allows us to hit our internal control+alt+delete. For students, I would pull out a small timer and set it to five minutes (more if they looked like they needed it) and tell them to make a reset choice until the alarm went off. They could read, sketch specimens in their science journal, or simply sit and breathe. When the alarm went off, most of my students came back feeling refreshed and ready to return to their group, or at least discuss things with a calmer mind.
What I'll do
One might argue that this entire sabbatical has been a timed break from the classroom. Whether I go back to a campus or not still remains to be seen, but my husband recently approached me with a serendipitous proposition.
While I was still struggling to find a way to break from my routine, James mentioned he'd be attending a conference out in New Mexico...so he invited me along for some change of scenery.
We're heading out tomorrow, and I'm excited. Neither of us have been and we're unfortunately headed toward some sub-freezing temps, but I'm bringing along my camera and hoping to drink in all the novel sights.
What about you?
So that's where I am right now, hoping to regalvanize this engine of motivation. Are any of you working towards your own goals? What do you do when you get stuck?
