In Search of Understanding: The Case for Constructivist Classrooms

"Lens Crafters"

I feel that what separates this book from the rest of the pack is the main issue that it addresses: point of view. This is especially true in the opening chapter as Jacqueline and Martin Brooks single out instances in which teachers can harm student development by offering restricted outlets for learning. I loved reading the sample teacher diary on pages 11-12 because it made the point so vivid and allowed me to easily connect it to real life.

That being said, I feel the need to take issue with the authors’ assumptions that students feel handcuffed by the teacher’s point of view. Maybe this is mostly my experience that takes precedence here, but I think such an idea is too general to absorb at face value, and that it underestimates the way students adjust to the styles and “views” of their teachers.

I don’t believe asking questions like “Who can see a vase” and “Who can see two faces” is inherently harmful to developing a student’s unique view because in my mind, students need those kinds of statements to serve as prompts. It’s not realistic to expect them to go into class and be prepared to think critically, especially at the beginning of the academic year. They learn to become critical thinkers as the course progresses because they latch onto the teacher or more specifically, his/her direction. They see what her style is, what works and what doesn’t, her reactions, and the established rubrics for her assignments.

As the authors themselves say on page 49, “the teacher’s responsibility is to create educational environments that permit students to assume the responsibility that is rightfully and naturally theirs.” Setting the boundaries with rubrics and carefully-crafted questions doesn’t necessarily limit students from experimenting; not if teachers are willing to encourage creativity (which any teacher should). But students need that essence of habit and forwardness to get a notion of what their limits are in the classroom (and the teacher should make clear that those limits are not set in stone). Once they are familiar with the framework and learn what is expected of them, they can start to step outside the box and try new things, and that is when critical thinking should be encouraged.

That being said, I do agree with the Brooks’ point (as defined in chapter 4) that one method of engaging those critical thinking skills is to pose issues with relevance to the students. As much care and passion as a teacher might bring to her subject of study, her instruction will almost certainly fail if she can not get her students to care about it. Once again, they will learn it, but just long enough to write or to recite it for a test (so in essence, it’s not really learning that takes place at all – it’s parroting). If our goal is to teach students to acquire new skills and creative thinking abilities, then it boggles me how we can expect them to transfer to other fields the rote memorization and temporary knowledge that they lack the enthusiasm and zeal to retain. And that in itself compounds a different problem: time management. Because the students are not able to carry over the knowledge and the skills that they should have obtained in grades past, teachers have to waste time treading back over old material, time they would much rather spend on the field they’re hired to teach. This puts both teachers and students behind (and aggravates students who are on track learning-wise but end up having to sit through and endure familiar, “boring” lessons in class).

I have mentioned before that students are more astute than we give them credit for. The sections on pages 43-49 once again awakened me to the fact that as we help students to learn, we in turn need to let them teach us. If we dedicate our careers to molding students into carbon copies of ourselves, parroting back our precise methods word by technique by rubric, then we will never get anywhere. Our job is not merely to make them learn; it’s to foster a growth that represents a natural extension of their unique learning process. It will be a pretty sad day if I find myself reprimanding one of my students on his research paper solely on account of not writing it exactly the way that I envisioned it. First of all, it’s not my paper; it’s his. It is only mine if I get the guidelines and rubric, do the research, write the draft, edit and proofread it, and then hand in a final copy. As it is, the only thing I do is assign it, and the student molds it into a creation all his own,

This means I am laying upon him the responsibility of ownership, and thus it is my duty to teach him how best to exercise that responsibility. I believe that as I teach him, he in turn should teach me, broadening my point of view with his own, and showing me concepts that I [hopefully] did not consider before. This creates a bond between the teacher and student, and lays the groundwork for a positive working relationship in which the student follows my guidelines not out of any obligation, but out of sincere interest in learning what I have to tell him. This is the kind of symbiotic network for which I want to strive in my classes; the ability to tell a student, “This is a very interesting notion. I didn’t consider that before. I will have to give that some more thought. Thank you for bringing that to my attention.” This is enlightenment; we have both taught each other something.

Max van Mannen puts it this way in his work Tone of Teaching:

“What a thoughtful parent or teacher does is offer the young person a vision of what kind of life is worth living and what image of adulthood is worth aiming for. Indeed, this is the meaning of learning.” (p. 44)