When I choose to blog about something, it is usually because I respond strongly to the subject, either positively or negatively. I look to my emotions about the subject matter to guide me, rather than my intellect. Perhaps mine is more of a spiritual approach, as defined in Learning in Adulthood. I do know that reading the chapter on spirituality was incredibly painful and almost embarrassing for the authors as I read the stilted language trying to define it. The authors also at least acknowledged the awkwardness of writing about spirituality as an academic exercise.
So it seems that some discussions of adult education lends itself better to poetry over prose. I was heartened to see Shakespeare passages (and even quotes from his work put in a flow chart to explain an idea!), Thoreau and the Bible quoted from in Keith Main’s paper. It seemed appropriate in his theory of adult development that a sense of play and the use of leisure time with some artistic expression are included. What also struck me was his 6th facet of adult development, one that has the adult always in some cycle of growth and regression. It was heartening to see that it is something everyone goes through and that some kind of regression leads to increased growth. Rather than fight the regression phases, it seems like its best to use the opportunity to reflect. You could also see this as a struggle between the internal and external and that according to Main, adult development is at its highest when that individual has a strong internal locus of control.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Spirit and Place
After reading chapters 8 & 9 in Learning in Adulthood, which examined the role of spirituality and multi-cultural perspectives in adult education, it struck me that spirituality (as defined by the authors) and multi-culturalism have some similarities. They have a strong emphasis on community, meaning making and connection that are often lacking in Western cultures. It is almost as if the authors are saying that Western cultures are not spiritual ones. In my opinion, tt may be more that spiritualism is often considered a deeply private and individual practice and that due to the ever growing heterogeneous nature of these cultures, spiritual tolerance is often executed as spiritual silence. The more homogenous a culture is, it may make the societal expression of spiritual beliefs more acceptable.
I found it interesting, though, that there was little, if any, discussion around formal education settings when examinging multi-culturalism. While there may be more narrative learning, in for example, African cultures or more apprenticeship type learning in Hindu or Asian cultures, it left me wondering how different or similar educational philosophies are across cultures. How does each culture’s pedagogical styles influence their adult education approaches? I would have liked to see these aspects discussed more in depth by the authors. And other than the example of the teacher witnessing a Turkish brother beating his sister because it was acceptable behavior in their culture, much of the culture discussions seemed sanitized and idealized. The chapter focused mainly on the role of the educators and the overall purposes of some form of education. The authors made very little distinctions between formal and informal learning.
Things that left me thinking more about, in a broader since of oppression and culture were: How does India’s caste system impact learning? In Muslim countries, what about the lack of educational opportunities for women (and in other countries as well)? What about the Confucian approach to education, with the belief that it is how much a student is willing to work to learn, rather than innate ability? It seemed like these chapters were focused mainly on respecting fairly surface level differences, such as Asian cultures’ deference to the teacher. Much more could have been learned from examining in depth learning practices or approaches, from childhood through adult learning, not only to gain a deeper understanding of educating adults from different cultures, but also to gather best practices for designing programs based on strategies used by these cultures.
I found it interesting, though, that there was little, if any, discussion around formal education settings when examinging multi-culturalism. While there may be more narrative learning, in for example, African cultures or more apprenticeship type learning in Hindu or Asian cultures, it left me wondering how different or similar educational philosophies are across cultures. How does each culture’s pedagogical styles influence their adult education approaches? I would have liked to see these aspects discussed more in depth by the authors. And other than the example of the teacher witnessing a Turkish brother beating his sister because it was acceptable behavior in their culture, much of the culture discussions seemed sanitized and idealized. The chapter focused mainly on the role of the educators and the overall purposes of some form of education. The authors made very little distinctions between formal and informal learning.
Things that left me thinking more about, in a broader since of oppression and culture were: How does India’s caste system impact learning? In Muslim countries, what about the lack of educational opportunities for women (and in other countries as well)? What about the Confucian approach to education, with the belief that it is how much a student is willing to work to learn, rather than innate ability? It seemed like these chapters were focused mainly on respecting fairly surface level differences, such as Asian cultures’ deference to the teacher. Much more could have been learned from examining in depth learning practices or approaches, from childhood through adult learning, not only to gain a deeper understanding of educating adults from different cultures, but also to gather best practices for designing programs based on strategies used by these cultures.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Transformation as grief?
As I was reading Brookfield’s model of transformative learning in Learning and Adulthood (p 146), it struck me that there are similarities to this model and other transformative learning models and the 5 stages of grief, as defined by Elizabeth Kubler Ross. While hopefully the transformative process is one of gain and enrichment, any time a person under goes a major shift in perspective, they do lose parts of their former self.
All transformative learning tends to begin with an event of some sort that the individual is having difficulty handling. Likely there is some element of denial as the individual tries to process the experience. Anger is Ross’s second stage. I’m not sure where that fits in to all transformational learning models, but I could see that be an aspect of some social emancipatory philosophy as the learner becomes more aware of the forces that work against them. In the stages where the learner is talking to their peers, doing research and gathering information, I imagine some of the research may be driven by a bargaining need (“maybe there are other options to this problem…”; “maybe this really isn’t happening”) that could also be accompanied by depression, as the learner finds their perspective shifting in a new and different way. Finally as they learn to integrate their new knowledge, there comes an acceptance in their new found perspective.
All transformative learning tends to begin with an event of some sort that the individual is having difficulty handling. Likely there is some element of denial as the individual tries to process the experience. Anger is Ross’s second stage. I’m not sure where that fits in to all transformational learning models, but I could see that be an aspect of some social emancipatory philosophy as the learner becomes more aware of the forces that work against them. In the stages where the learner is talking to their peers, doing research and gathering information, I imagine some of the research may be driven by a bargaining need (“maybe there are other options to this problem…”; “maybe this really isn’t happening”) that could also be accompanied by depression, as the learner finds their perspective shifting in a new and different way. Finally as they learn to integrate their new knowledge, there comes an acceptance in their new found perspective.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Serendipity in learning...
Merriam and Caffarella, in Learning in Adulthood, cite a paper by G.E. Spear in which he presents a model of self directed learning that has opportunities, knowledge and chance all play roles in self directed learning (112).
It gave me pause to think about how chance encounters have furthered my own learning. At first, I was hard pressed to think of much, other than a series of rather random, sometimes unfortunate events (including a layoff) that led me to the job and career that I have now. And I would say that the chance event of getting my job led me to meet someone who was to become a mentor. From that, I figured out what I wanted to do when I grew up. So, I guess in the end, my whole career as I know it now and my decision to work on my masters in instructional design were all very much based on a couple of chance events. Who knows what I would be doing today instead.
Another chance event that I think about is an English professor I had in college. I enjoyed his Shakespeare class so much (a huge undergrad affair – I think a couple hundred…) that I signed up for his next class. How, I don’t know, but he remembered my name from my tests and papers (I had never bothered to talk to him in the lecture series). From taking the smaller class, we became friends and he encouraged me to apply for a grant to study overseas in a program he was working with. I actually got the grant that paid for my plane ticket to London, where I took classes and worked on a paper on the British theater. By another chance, a friend of my sister’s husband who was living in England helped arrange interviews for me with the financial directors of the Royal Shakespeare Company and that National Theatre. Not bad for chance.
I would say that I think I have had more planned learning experiences than ones by that happen by accident, but it does seem to reinforce the theory that the more random events have had the most impact than anything else.
It gave me pause to think about how chance encounters have furthered my own learning. At first, I was hard pressed to think of much, other than a series of rather random, sometimes unfortunate events (including a layoff) that led me to the job and career that I have now. And I would say that the chance event of getting my job led me to meet someone who was to become a mentor. From that, I figured out what I wanted to do when I grew up. So, I guess in the end, my whole career as I know it now and my decision to work on my masters in instructional design were all very much based on a couple of chance events. Who knows what I would be doing today instead.
Another chance event that I think about is an English professor I had in college. I enjoyed his Shakespeare class so much (a huge undergrad affair – I think a couple hundred…) that I signed up for his next class. How, I don’t know, but he remembered my name from my tests and papers (I had never bothered to talk to him in the lecture series). From taking the smaller class, we became friends and he encouraged me to apply for a grant to study overseas in a program he was working with. I actually got the grant that paid for my plane ticket to London, where I took classes and worked on a paper on the British theater. By another chance, a friend of my sister’s husband who was living in England helped arrange interviews for me with the financial directors of the Royal Shakespeare Company and that National Theatre. Not bad for chance.
I would say that I think I have had more planned learning experiences than ones by that happen by accident, but it does seem to reinforce the theory that the more random events have had the most impact than anything else.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)