Head Fakes and Shining Eyes
As a writer, I sometimes get stuck. I know what I want to say, but I can't quite get it right. It helps to walk away and do something else. Oftentimes, in the process of doing something else, the light bulb switches on.
I have been thinking about teachers this past week brought on by Randy Pausch's passing (if you haven't seen it already, his "Last Lecture" is worth an hour of your life) as well as my own run-ins with head fake teachers. I first heard the term head fake learning in Pausch's lecture. It refers to indirect learning. In other words, we don't learn to play football just to learn how to throw a ball. We learn about "teamwork, sportsmanship, perserverance etc. etc.".
Boxing has been a great head fake learning experience. I had an amazingly gratifying boxing session yesterday morning. I remember my first class was such a disaster that I walked away thinking I hated boxing and would never do it again (there it is; never say never!). I was incredibly uncoordinated and definitely looked very silly. But then, the whole point of learning is to become good at something we're not. So I signed up with a trainer, and by the second session, I was hooked. Yesterday, AB said something very enlightening: "I became a much better boxer the moment I stopped trying to block everything." Of course, I didn't understand. Who wants to be hit? But his point was that it's very tiring to block everything. It's much more effective to "turtle-up", let the punches land on the gloves, tire out the opponent and then strike back. And it occurred to me that was a great strategy both in and outside of the ring.
So I had wanted to write a post about head fake teachers and how it's a shame that our classrooms aren't filled with more head fake teachers. I've had the good fortune to have had quite a few such teachers. But most were teachers of gifted programs, and I believe that every student deserves to have the same rich and wonderful learning experience. Because once a student encounters a head fake teacher in the classroom, he will recognise head fake learning opportunities everywhere.
I remember one teacher who posed us the Konigsberg bridge problem and asked us to work out the solution (i.e how to cross all 7 bridges only once, without back-tracking). We weren't in a mathematics class and we were nowhere near learning anything about topology, but the experience was so engaging that I still remember the problem. She wasn't teaching us about mathematics, she was teaching us the value of asking questions and how curiosity about mundane, everyday things (in this case, bridges that the people of Konigsberg crossed every day) could lead to important breakthroughs. And that in looking for the solution to one problem, we might end up answering entirely different questions altogether, questions we didn't even know we had. For many years, I had an excitement for mathematics and science and the possibilities they opened up. There was elegance and beauty as well. But then I met Katrin and Robert Burlin, two wonderful English professors, who opened up another world of wonderful possibilities.
Which brings me back to the beginning of this post. I had written a bit about head fake teachers yesterday, but I felt the post didn't quite convey the passion for life that these head fake teachers actually instill in their students. So I left the post (also because I also had to go to dinner). This morning, on my way to the gym, as I often do, I looked for a TED Talk to watch. Of the 15 or so TED Talks that I could have chosen, I picked one who title started "Classical Music With..." (because the iPhone doesn't show the whole title). I thought it would be a relaxing performance that I could shut my eyes to. Instead of shutting my eyes, I got shining eyes instead:
As with most Asian kids, I was made to take piano lessons. And I suffered through the boredom of practicing scales and pieces that meant nothing to me. If only my piano teachers taught me about one-buttock playing!
Too often, kids are told that they're not good, or good enough at something and they should move on and focus on what they happen to be good at. What they really need, though, is a head fake teacher who can get their eyes to shine. Then, they will learn the most important lesson of all -- they, themselves, possess the ability to create their own world of possibilities.
I have been thinking about teachers this past week brought on by Randy Pausch's passing (if you haven't seen it already, his "Last Lecture" is worth an hour of your life) as well as my own run-ins with head fake teachers. I first heard the term head fake learning in Pausch's lecture. It refers to indirect learning. In other words, we don't learn to play football just to learn how to throw a ball. We learn about "teamwork, sportsmanship, perserverance etc. etc.".
Boxing has been a great head fake learning experience. I had an amazingly gratifying boxing session yesterday morning. I remember my first class was such a disaster that I walked away thinking I hated boxing and would never do it again (there it is; never say never!). I was incredibly uncoordinated and definitely looked very silly. But then, the whole point of learning is to become good at something we're not. So I signed up with a trainer, and by the second session, I was hooked. Yesterday, AB said something very enlightening: "I became a much better boxer the moment I stopped trying to block everything." Of course, I didn't understand. Who wants to be hit? But his point was that it's very tiring to block everything. It's much more effective to "turtle-up", let the punches land on the gloves, tire out the opponent and then strike back. And it occurred to me that was a great strategy both in and outside of the ring.
So I had wanted to write a post about head fake teachers and how it's a shame that our classrooms aren't filled with more head fake teachers. I've had the good fortune to have had quite a few such teachers. But most were teachers of gifted programs, and I believe that every student deserves to have the same rich and wonderful learning experience. Because once a student encounters a head fake teacher in the classroom, he will recognise head fake learning opportunities everywhere.
I remember one teacher who posed us the Konigsberg bridge problem and asked us to work out the solution (i.e how to cross all 7 bridges only once, without back-tracking). We weren't in a mathematics class and we were nowhere near learning anything about topology, but the experience was so engaging that I still remember the problem. She wasn't teaching us about mathematics, she was teaching us the value of asking questions and how curiosity about mundane, everyday things (in this case, bridges that the people of Konigsberg crossed every day) could lead to important breakthroughs. And that in looking for the solution to one problem, we might end up answering entirely different questions altogether, questions we didn't even know we had. For many years, I had an excitement for mathematics and science and the possibilities they opened up. There was elegance and beauty as well. But then I met Katrin and Robert Burlin, two wonderful English professors, who opened up another world of wonderful possibilities.
Which brings me back to the beginning of this post. I had written a bit about head fake teachers yesterday, but I felt the post didn't quite convey the passion for life that these head fake teachers actually instill in their students. So I left the post (also because I also had to go to dinner). This morning, on my way to the gym, as I often do, I looked for a TED Talk to watch. Of the 15 or so TED Talks that I could have chosen, I picked one who title started "Classical Music With..." (because the iPhone doesn't show the whole title). I thought it would be a relaxing performance that I could shut my eyes to. Instead of shutting my eyes, I got shining eyes instead:
As with most Asian kids, I was made to take piano lessons. And I suffered through the boredom of practicing scales and pieces that meant nothing to me. If only my piano teachers taught me about one-buttock playing!
Too often, kids are told that they're not good, or good enough at something and they should move on and focus on what they happen to be good at. What they really need, though, is a head fake teacher who can get their eyes to shine. Then, they will learn the most important lesson of all -- they, themselves, possess the ability to create their own world of possibilities.
posted by 10000miles at 10:46
1 Comments:
Thanks for this. Enjoyed the video and your post and am about to research into the seven bridges of K-whatever now. An inspirational post to the problem of inspiration. We don't see enough passion in life, in the lives of people around us and even in our own lives. Expediency is the way we are taught to get things done but in the end it is the most limiting of concepts.
I hope others read your post and resolve to open themselves up to more experiences, more commitment, more learning and more passion in life.
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