Just so you know, I hate math. I love Dr. Strangelove, but I hate math. The only thing I hate more than math, however, is story problems. You know what I'm talking about. Story problems are those questions you get at the end of the exam, when you're discouraged and your hand is cramped and you're thinking exclusively in numbers, that suddenly ask you who will get to Baltimore first if Mrs. Bennett leaves on the 6:35 train from Hartford traveling at 60 miles an hour and Mr. Darcy leaves on the 7:10 train from New York traveling at 75 miles per hour. You don't have to answer that. In fact, please don't; my intention was never to spread the misery of the story problem.
Anyway, imagine my surprise when I did the readings for this week's class and discovered that the poor story problem is actually considered superior to many other methods of teaching. In fact, the story problem is something of an innovation in getting kids to transfer "school learnin'" into everyday experiences. Looking back, I guess the problem I always had with story problems is that, despite the desperate attempts of their writers, they seldom had anything to do with real life. I can assure you that never in my life will I need to know the area of grass a goat tied to the side of a barn can eat (this was an actual question from a high school geometry exam). The worst, however, were the names. The writers seemed to assume that I would be more motivated to solve the inane questions of fictional children if they were called Lakshmi or Tomeeka or Nell. Being as I was a rather fanciful child, I spent much more time constructing back-stories and personalities for my carefully multicultural new friends than discovering the most cost-effective blend of lemon juice, sugar, and water for their lemonade stand.
My nostalgic annoyances aside, there's no reason why learning designed to create understanding and transfer can't be fun or effective. I think the biggest objection I had to story problems as a child was the lack of effort and creativity they exhibited. The technique of relating abstract ideas to instances from everyday life looses all flavor when made trivial or general enough to be understood by the entirety of a textbook audience. Luckily, for us future librarians, we'll be doing most of our teaching where no textbook has gone before. Whether in face-to-face instructional workshops or even through chat messaging or webinars, we'll be able to assess our audience beforehand, ask questions of them to determine their current knowledge of the subject, and apply it in ways that could very well have a meaningful impact on their lives. After all, our students don't have to be there--they're responding to internal motivations and actually want to learn.
If I were, for example, teaching a group of senior citizens to use EBay (thanks Prof. Fontichiaro, this will now always be my go-to example), I would start by comparing it to an auction house or estate sale--something that they already understand and can use as a base for further learning. Then, after a quick description of the basics (how to get to the web page, how to create an account and navigate the site), we could jump right into learning by doing. This is also where the personal contact and feedback come into play--the teacher has to be available to provide (this should be familiar) formative assessment and individual help.
Oh, and P.S.: On a completely different note, since I'm apparently supposed to have been referencing the lectures all along (sorry!), here's a few thoughts/ things that stood out from last week:
I used the names Mrs. Bennett and Mr. Darcy in my problem specifically because of the JaneAustenAtTheSuperBowl tweet--video games can change the world--always use an even number of options when giving surveys to nice people--I really want to be in the position someday where I can make people do the human thermometer--and, on a serious note, my Big Hairy Audacious Belief is that libraries are where story problems go when, having led a good life, they die and are reincarnated as literature.
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ReplyDeleteOK - I'm leaving my cohort to comment on this blog. I hope that this counts in my quota - especially since I'm way behind anyway. Kristin wasn't kidding when she said that you had a talent for writing. This was nothing short of awesome.
ReplyDeleteI particularly like it when you said, "instances from everyday life looses all flavor when made trivial or general enough to be understood by the entirety of a textbook audience." The generation before us did not take the student or learner into account very often when teaching a subject. This is one area in which our generation, as a whole, is superior to those who came before us. We work hard to get the material across to every student in multiple ways so that all students gain something from the lesson.
And who knows, some day you may own a goat. And you might have to leave for an unspecified amount of time. And when you do, you will need to know how much grass is available for that goat to eat while you're gone...
Karmen, your posts never cease to entertain and inspire thought! I love your thought of librarians teaching "where no textbook has gone before." Here, here! We can teach people what they want to learn, or--better yet--teach them the skills they need to learn on their own. That way they can transfer those skills to anything they want to learn in the future. Take that textbooks! Plus, we're infinitely more entertaining than textbooks every thought of being...
ReplyDeleteI think the idea that librarians have an opportunity for a teachable moment beyond the textbook is excellent and I'm glad you articulate it so well! We *should* be thankful for every time we have an opportunity to do one on one instruction. But on the other hand, we as librarians may also fall into the same trap the textbook has when we make screencasts, online tutorials, hand outs, or any other uni-directional method of instruction that doesn't involve interaction.
ReplyDeleteIt's true. No one cares about the trains. Would it really be so hard to make them realistic? Or at least make them interesting (I took a physics test that had a problem involving Santa Claus--I don't remember how the physics tied in (it was a LONG time ago), but I still remember that Santa needs physics).
ReplyDeleteWell, everyone else already got to what I loved about your post - the writing style - and the idea of going beyond the textbook. This is a place where we as librarians can SHINE! We can be fun beyond the standardized tests and formalized assessment and can helps students transfer information into real world problems. Some of us may have considered actually being a teacher - I did - but didn't want to have to be so formal in our work (me again) so this is our chance. Thanks for speaking about it so well.
ReplyDeleteYour analysis is delightful as always. However! I must be a contrarian and say that from my weird perspective, story problems were great, and the more bizarre and neither-here- nor there, the better. Granted, I have a kind of absurdist sense of humor so I probably gave these poor creatures on trains and their lives a lot of details unconsciously that aren't stated by the problems themselves. But somehow I was always thrilled to solve absurd, useless problems like the one the text mentions about the bent basketball hoop and the angle the kid will have to shoot at--when of course he should probably just find a working hoop. And then when it comes to calculating my personal finances--something that's actually useful and impactful to me--I can't stand using my math skills. It's so mundane. Maybe if my financial life was a bit less depressing...
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