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All material is my personal opinion, and not that of any other organization. Copyright 2001. Permission is granted for individual teacher use. All rights reserved. |
June 23, 1997 Anthony, I'm still trying to define my goals. Today at the Exploratorium, we were exposed to a brief activity that was supposed to be "inquiry-based". Some of it was, and some wasn't; I was disappointed that it wasn't completely so. The instructor had one or two people try to determine whether oil, soap, water, and alcohol (and maybe one or two other things) would pop a soap film - i.e. you put the substance on your finger and see if the film pops when you try to stick your finger through it. It was nice to imagine a class "playing" with various substances to try to figure out which ones would pop the film and which wouldn't. Unfortunately, much of the learning that the instructor seemed to have as goal required much prior knowledge: the molecular structure of the substances, of soap, of cell membranes, the hydrophiobic / hydrophobic interactions, etc. Essentially, she gave us a 2-minute "review" of all of this and then explained why this all could then explain the effects we'd observed. Most of us were left not following her explanations at all. Even worse, I was left wondering: if she was simpliy going to explain how it worked, then why bother with the playing around in the first place? Which brings me to my question for you... I know that I, personally, enjoy figuring things out for myself much better than I do having something explained to me. Now, is this just me? or is there really something "better" about letting people discover principles and concepts for themselves, in some way? I could imagine, for example, providing people with various molecular structures on paper, and then having them try to hypothesize which kinds of structures would make the bubble burst, and which kind wouldn't. Essentially what I'm asking is: what value do you see in an inquiry-based approach to science teaching? Lecture is certainly quicker in many ways - is it simply a deficiency in myself (and my students) that we dislike being passively told how and why things work they way they do? I'd appreciate your feedback and I hope you're well. Regards, Marc June 24, 1997 Marc, That is an interesting question. I led a workshop last week of teachers, and presented two different density activities. In the first, I gave each group a tub with about 15 different objects; modeling clay, cork, styrofoam, cylinders of various metals, glass marbles, and so on. I also gave them a triple beam balance and a graduated cylinder, and access to water. This was inspired by Eleanor Duckworth's activity sequence, "Inventing Density," which I found online. The people who already knew what density was categorized the objects various ways. They finished up in about 15 minutes, and when I asked them to share, they reported their categories. They said that those with a density less than 1 would float, and a density greater than 1 would sink. I had them work through what that meant, and why it was. At first, they had a lot of formulas, and there was a lot of assumptions made about shared knowledge. But we did clarify the issue, a bit. A group with less pre-knowledge about density was more exploratory. They made some predictions about which would sink, and which would float, and tested them. In both groups, however, these teachers did not seem very curious about the materials. For myself, I find it useful to go through the motions of discovery, even if I think I know the outcome. A lot of times I get new insights, or, as a teacher, I think of new ways I might present information to my students, new questions I might pose. The next day, I presented a much more structured investigation of density. In this activity (Density, from the Physical Science Activities Manual), the groups were given a set of objects, wrapped in foil. Each set had two or more objects of the same material, but differing in size. For example, a glass stopper and a glass marble; a collection of ten pennies and a collection of 15 pennies. Each sample is separately wrapped, and labelled with a letter. They are to determine which objects are made of the same material, using the property of density. Again, they use a balance, and a graduated cylinder, measuring volume by displacement. Of the two activities, I would say people enjoyed the second much more. The directions seemed to channel their energy, and they worked quite vigorously, even keeping an eye on the other group to make sure they didn't fall behind. As an instructor, I wanted to create an atmosphere where people took responsibility for their own learning. In the first, open-ended activity, there was a feeling that people would take what they wanted from it. I think those who already felt they understood density did not feel challenged. Perhaps it would have been better to challenge them to use the materials in their kit to design a lesson where their students might discover or learn about density. In a way, I felt uncomfortable being with a group of fellow teachers, and feeling like I am supposed to hand them an activity that will work with their kids. It has made me think about approaching these workshops differently, with more of a shared leadership approach. So in relationship to your question, I think it suggests that you are somewhat unusual in your desire for open exploration. I think many people, including most of our students, prefer more structure and guidance, and resist open-endedness. On the other hand, I think we agree that this is when the best learning occurs. I feel that the delight in making discoveries for ones self is a learned thing. If you haven't experienced it, you may not have patience for the discomfort and uncertainty that is the companion to such a process. Let's look at the particular problem of bubbles/surface tension that you were exploring. On one level, you can discover a great deal playing around with soap, oil, and water. Personally, I think this play time is very important, so students have a variety of observations in their minds, before explanatory models are introduced. I think students should then be challenged to try to explain these things, and given a chance to draw on their observations and prior knowledge. There is a role, however, for "book knowledge" as well. I dare say you could play with water for a very long time before the notion of hydrogen bonding might occur to you. Perhaps after you have had a chance to generate your own discoveries, and develop your own models, then is the time where new information can be brought in by the facilitator. I see two extremes, either of which could be unproductive. On the one hand, a group not provided with any information might begin to feel very frustrated as they attempt to explain things which are beyond their ability to observe directly. On the other hand, if too much information is provided too soon, or it is done in a heavy-handed way, the participants may feel they have been cheated out of making their own discoveries, as you do. I see our task as to introduce our students to a new way of learning, without step-by-step directions. When they first make a discovery on their own, we need to celebrate it, and make sure they realize the significance, the importance, the value of that experience. Really, what we are saying is, "You can learn without me!" But I think your students are actually mostly happier being just told the way things are. The alternative, discovering it for themselves, is a lot of work! So we need to ease them into it, really trying to highlight the rewards of discovery, the feeling of mental agility and competence that comes from solving things for yourself. I have begun studying myself this week; two courses at UCB summer session; one on linguistics related to education, the other on Urban Ed. Reform. Thanks for keeping the dialogue going. I hope you raise these issues with your instructor at the Exploratorium as well. I am sure you would find an interesting discussion. Regards, Anthony Marc, I was thinking a bit more about my response to your thoughts about how we engage students in inquiry. I suggested that students were reluctant to embrace inquiry, but I don't think we have really addressed why, or developed all of our responses and strategies to overcome this. The reasons I mentioned are true, but I think we need to go deeper. We begin with the fact that students are simply not used to learning this way. But there are some deeper questions. How do our students feel about school? What do they expect from their teachers? How do our African American, Latino, American Indian and Asian students react to us as white teachers? How do female students feel about the challenges we put before them? Why are the students there in school? What is their agenda in the class? How can we interact with that agenda, renegotiate and create a positive outcome? I am not sure of the answers to all of these questions. I know some of my students are likely to be alienated. They may not believe that the classroom is a place where they can expect to be successful. They may not have been successful in classrooms before. I want to explore some new ways to build a classroom environment that is affirming for all my students. I have a publication called Connections Across Cultures, Inviting Multiple Perspectives into Classrooms of Science, Technology, Math and Engineering. It is available from the Pac-TEC Project. This book describes strategies to make our classrooms more effective for the underrepresented majority. I also have begun a book called "Twice as Less," by Eleanor Wilson Orr, dealing with the issue of Black English relative to student performance in math and science. I see the outline I laid out last week as beginning to develop this. I want to look at other aspects of the classroom environment, such as room decorations, table arrangements, the use of music, and classroom routines. I also would like to explore ways to involve parents, if they are available. So as we discuss the question of inquiry, let's also keep our eyes on broader questions, and brainstorm some strategies to respond to them. Anthony June 26, 1997 Anthony, You bring up many extremely important issues. First, I'd like to ponder a little further on modes of instruction and learning. You described how your experience showed that teachers, too, like to be told what to do ("The directions seemed to channel their energy, and they worked quite vigorously"). I'm curious: what were your directions on the first day? What were teachers supposed to do with their 15 objects, balance, graduated cyclinder and water? I'm asking because I would think it could make a difference whether you said something like, "see what you can find out!" or "see if you can find a way to predict whether an object will float or sink." Did you give any suggestions on what to calculate or what units to use? You mention that self-guided learning requires more effort on the part of the student. I agree. In fact, I think it essentially requires real motivation and curiosity. I wonder about putting the density-task in the context of a situation like "you're on a sinking boat and have to decide which things you should pack in your suitcase when the boat sinks". Might this make the task seem less abstract and more practical, so a student would "care"? I wonder whether our own desire to discover principles like density on our own comes partly because we've already been convinced (in heavy-handed science classes) that the concept is an important one and worth exploring. I can see how someone could just say "some things float and others don't and if you ever need to see which one will happen, just try it!" whereas we already associate the concept of density with the expansion of liquids and gases, with physics mechanics problems, with the life cycle of stars, and probably much more. I just read a 1992 interview with Lisa Delpit ("Teachers, Culture, and Power: An Interview with Lisa Delpit", by Barbara Miner of Rethinking Schools ) in which she makes a pretty direct attack on inquiry or discovery learning: "I found that people who appear to be discovering everything on their own have actually received direct instruction at home, although it's not in a way that parents might think of as direct instruction." She says we need to provide explicit instruction "along with the language-rich [or science-rich] environment" otherwise we are "putting those children [who didn't receive prior instruction] at a disadvantage." Some of our students' (and teachers') reluctance to explore, then, might simply be a result of their not yet having enough of a background. I'm reminded of something a little similar: in an article describing the philosophy of the Exploratorium, someone pointed out that they tried to design exhibits which were not just models of phenomena, since such models really appeal mainly to those who have already undertood the principle the model is trying to show. Delpit explains the anger that students express when they're "not being taught", ie not given direct instruction: students know that keys to attaining the culture of power are being withheld from them - they feel themselves at a disadvantage to middle-class kids whose parents continually provide it to their kids. With the example of the soap film in my class: I absolutely agree with you that the timing of when information or at least an explanation is provided to a student is crucial. I was at a point of understanding molecular interactions where I knew what information was missing before I could construct an explanation (such as the molecular structures of soap and the various liquids we tested). I would have much preferred getting this information before hearing the information thrown in with a "tying-it-together" explanation. I can see, though, how important my prior knowledge was to my desire to be allowed to discover on my own. Without that prior knowledge, I certainly wouldn't have had the slightest idea of what to consider if shown molecular structures; I also probably wouldn't have the feeling that figuring out molecular-interaction explanations was at all within the realm of what's possible for me - I wouldn't have any examples to mimic in my thinking. So I would say that aside from being a lot of work, self-guided learning does require a good amount of prior exposure: to provide us with motivation (knowing a concept is a commonly-dealt with one in the scientific community, for example), to provide us with models to tell us how to be thinking or exploring, and to tell us that arriving at an answer (or "the" answer) on our own is possible. You wrote that there are "deeper" reasons for students' reluctance to embrace inquiry - deeper than just the fact that they're not used to it and that it requires more effort on their part. Delpit's analysis in which she argues that successful discovery requires sufficient prior experience provides a second explanation for the difficulties we experience in teaching through inquiry. You say that racial and gender dynamics in the classroom, as well as our students' feelings towards school in general need to be considered. I can certainly see how feelings of alienation from the teacher or from the school will make a student unwilling to engage and be more willing to rebel even through simple passivity. I agree with you and feel, as you do, that ultimately these are the questions that will be most important for us to answer if we are to be successful with all of our students: what are we (students and teacher) here for? what do we need to learn? what are we hoping to accomplish? will success make a difference in our lives? does the process we are engaged in preserve the status quo (by focusing on "safe", "politically neutral" science) or help us all to challenge it? I think it will be important for us to not only accept and recognize our students' feelings towards us, school, and society, but also then to carefully decide where to place ourselves as their teacher: do we represent the school / society or the student? does such a choice have to be made? As usual, it's been very helpful for me to have a forum here for developing these ideas. Regards, Marc |
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