Why Should Your Learners Care About Learning?
Whether we work with educators or students, it is vital that we take the time to consider that the content of the learning experience we design is relevant. When I was a classroom teacher, I was taught to include a section for “importance” in each lesson. In my effort to communicate the importance of content I would sometimes tell students at younger grade levels that learning sight words and letter sounds would help them learn to read. In upper elementary and middle school grade levels I would say things such as, “It is important to know how to calculate percentages so that when something has a discount at a store, we know how to determine if it is affordable.” As a professional learning facilitator, my first presentations reflected what I believed was most important for educators to know. What I failed to realize is that relevance for me does not necessarily equal relevance to those I serve. I approached the importance of content within my cultural context and background experience.
Do You Know Your Learners?
When I began walking classrooms as a coach/administrator, I heard well-meaning educators tell students that their learnings in the classroom were important because of reasons such as: “you don’t want to grow up and work at a fast food restaurant”; “it will be on the test”; “you will need to learn to take notes for college”. While these reasons are relevant to the adults speaking to students, it may not resonate with the learners themselves. Relevance is relative. Students in your midst may not mind the idea of working in a fast food restaurant, they might not have a desire to go to college, or perhaps at their young age these concepts are far too into their future to even matter to them.
An experience with an upper elementary aged student, struggling with motivation and behavior, changed my entire mindset regarding the relevance of education to those we serve. The student, who I will call Jose (name has been changed), had been refusing to complete classwork, shrugging his shoulders when asked why he did not apply himself to school, and provoking conflicts with peers. In my conversations with Jose, it became clear that he was an intelligent student with great potential. Jose had come to our school from Los Angeles. He was street smart, with quick wit and a sharp eye. His goal was to become a part of a gang life full of crime.
I spent a great deal of time with Jose. Looking back, I realize that the majority of this time was initially spent as a one way conversation. I would ask Jose why he wasn’t applying himself, and received little to no response. I let Jose know that I could see he had great potential, that he had the academic skills to excel and attend college in the future. I told Jose how I saw other students look up to him, how his younger sister adored him, that he was a role model “whether he liked it or not”. And I sincerely believed I was approaching Jose in a way that could make a difference. I felt I was making education relevant to his life. But I was not making headway. I asked our school resource officer to speak with Jose. Complete in his police uniform, the officer spoke with Jose about the dangers of gang life, how “being tough” would hurt him in the long run, how it would affect his mother and younger sister.
One afternoon I learned that Jose had not walked his six year old sister home from school as was the norm. We called all emergency contacts on file to no avail. I walked with the young girl to her home. I assured her that it was not her fault that Jose left without her. When we arrived at the home, a new, luxury vehicle was parked on the street in front of the house. A woman sat in the car. A chain link fence surrounded the dirt yard. We walked up to the front porch and I knocked on the door. A few minutes passed with no answer. The woman in the car remained seated in the front seat, engine off. I asked Jose’s sister if she knew the woman. “I think that is my mom’s friend,” she replied. I continued knocking. Finally, Jose’s mother came to the door. I introduced myself and asked if Jose was there, and indicated that he had not walked his sister home from school. “I never know where he is,” she remarked in a monotone voice.
A couple of days later, Jose got in a physical fight with a peer on the school grounds. I put two pieces of notebook paper on the table in the office. I told Jose, “On one piece of paper, imagine and write what will happen in the future if you continue on this path. On the second, write about what your future will be like if you make an effort in school and respect your peers.” When I returned to the office, only one piece of paper had writing on it. I read what Jose had written on the single page. It told a narrative of joining the gang with his uncles and ending up in jail. As I read the next sentence, my heart sunk. “In jail, I will have food to eat, I will be safe, and I will have a warm bed to sleep in.” In that moment, I felt wholly inadequate in my role as an educator. I had not taken the time to ask questions, to truly become of student of Jose. I assumed that he would want to avoid a gang life, that he would be desperate to escape this path. Instead, he saw it as not only an inevitable, but also the safest option he could see.
Relevance Through Relationships
I changed my approach with Jose. I did not know how to relate to his life, how to show him how school was relevant to the only future he could envision for himself. But I knew how to show him I cared. I am not sure if my changed approach made a large difference in the long run. I am not sure where Jose is now. But rather than focusing on the future, I focused on the now. I began to show Jose that I valued him in the present. Everyday I would be sure to tell Jose I was glad to see him. And slowly, Jose’s attitude toward his classwork began to improve. I found that what brought relevance to Jose’s learnings in class had nothing to do with content or the future. Instead, the learning became relevant because it was attached to a relationship with a caring adult. Jose began showing me his writing, telling me about the mathematics projects he was working on. For Jose, relevance needed to be about the now, not about a future which felt far too abstract and unconnected to school. If nothing else, I did all I knew how to do in order to design an environment in which learning on the school campus was physically, psychologically, and emotionally safe. Without this, we have no foundation to build upon.
I have heard the following phrase many times within the past few weeks: “We must take care of maslow’s before we take care of bloom’s”. According to Universal Design for Learning (UDL), we activate the affective networks of the brain when we minimize threats and distractions, and optimize relevance, value, and authenticity. Students come to us with their own individual experiences. While we may not be able to control what happens outside of the school walls, we can minimize anxiety by creating safe environments. We support all students when we focus on social-emotional learning, when we value our students in the present and build relationships with them.
As educators, we often feel it is our job to inform students as to the relevance of school because of the “tough realities” of the world. Yet according to guideline 7.2 of the UDL framework, students’ ability to learn is increased as we ensure that the learning experiences we design apply to our students’ experiences in the present. Relevance is to be culturally and socially appropriate to our learners’ lives today, not merely in an abstract future. Remember, relevance is relative. And it is strengthened through relationships.