Children are Curious; Students are not

“Intellectual curiosity becomes a casualty of the education and status wars.”

Joshua Eyler. How Humans Learn. 2018

I mentioned psychologist Susan Engel in an earlier post. As recounted in Joshua Eyler’s How Humans Learn, Engel documents a drop-off in curiosity between kindergarten and fifth grade. Eyler points to other research that corroborates an age-related decrease in the pursuit of novel information.

While some of the decline in curiosity is likely natural, a portion of it may be attributed to school itself. In a tragic irony, it appears that the very institution responsible for imparting new knowledge depletes its pupils’ hunger for that knowledge.

Students, preoccupied by scholastic hurdles and abetted by canny or cynical parents, get wise to the learning industrial complex. They begin to avoid any authentic challenges that would impede the achievement of grades.

“Intellectual curiosity”, therefore, “becomes a casualty of the education and status wars” (Eyler, 2018).

He then commences a discussion of pedagogical methods that can reinforce curiosity instead of reducing it, namely inquiry- and discussion-based.

Inquiry-based pedagogy encourages learners to take responsibility by putting them at the center of the learning process.

Inquiry-based teachers use open-ended questions to spur investigation into authentic challenges (Coffman, 2017). Inquiry is guided, not directed. That means students enjoy a degree of autonomy as they pursue answers of real-world import. Ideally then, they begin to cultivate self-regulated learning as a habit of mind.

Wiggins and McTighe, in Understanding by Design, promote building courses with overarching learning objectives and “essential questions”, those that hew to the fundamental essence of the thing under investigation.

Robin Paige (Eyler’s colleague at Rice University), in contrast to Wiggins and McTighe’s multiple questions, proposes a “metaquestion”: one question around which course activities will revolve.

A key feature of inquiry-based approaches is learning to learn rather than simply learning the content, making it well suited to TWP.

Discussion-based pedagogy is a time-honored method going back at least to Socrates. Brookfield and Preskill say discussion has manifold benefits. It affirms the students’ role in the learning process and also encourages exploration of a diverse set of perspectives. That diversity, one hopes, fosters one of our habits of mind: integrated perspective.

As well worn as is it, discussion as a teaching tool can fail as well as succeed. According to Howard, a key to successful discussion is setting expectations. Classrooms are social settings in which norms are continually under negotiation and revision, so the instructor should explicitly set the expectation that all students should participate in discussion. The syllabus, then, should explain how discussion is tied to the learning objectives of the course. An accountability mechanism, such as a participation grade, is also useful.

Likewise, Lang suggests introducing discussion early and reinforcing it often. If students become accustomed to lectures, it will be an uphill battle if you suddenly throw in discussion during week four.

The instructor can spark conversation by asking questions. Fact-based questions can kick things off, but should be used sparingly. Open-ended questions invite more thoughtful, well, discussion.

Interestingly, this recommended progression, from a few fact-based questions to more open-ended ones, parallels Chouinard’s observations of young children. Pre-school-aged kids inquire into facts first, then seek explanatory (“why”) answers. Modeling college instruction on patterns of early childhood may rekindle some of that lost curiosity.

These two pedagogical styles—inquiry-based and discussion-based—are not mutually exclusive. In the words of Susan Engel, “by asking questions I don’t have a set answer to, I am modeling genuine inquiry and sharing my own curiosity.” Inquiry and discussion, in other words, overlap.

Both hinge on asking the right questions. To that end, Rothstein and Santana devised a Question Formulation Technique (QFT). The QFT is a six-stage process that spurs students to create their own questions.

  1. Design a question focus.
  2. Produce questions.
  3. Work with closed-ended and open-ended questions.
  4. Prioritize questions.
  5. Plan next steps.
  6. Reflect.

The QFT offers an effective tool for getting the most out of both discussion and inquiry. As Eyler states, it combines “authentic practice” with “metacognitive reflection”, motivating students not just to investigate the content, but to gain insights and self-awareness they can transfer to other classes and challenges.

Next time, I hope to explore the QFT in depth, talk about how it relates to the goals of TWP, and see if it helps make students curious again.

The Question Formulation Technique in practice.

References

Brookfield, S., & Preskill, S. (2005). Discussion as a way of teaching : Tools and techniques for democratic classrooms (2nd ed.). San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.

Coffman, T. (2017). Inquiry-based learning: Designing instruction to promote higher level thinking (3rd ed.). Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield.

Engel, S. (2011). Children’s need to know: Curiosity in schools. Harvard Educational Review, 81(4), 625-645.

Lang, J. (2008). On course : A week-by-week guide to your first semester of college teaching. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press. (2008).

Rothstein, D., Santana, L., & Puriefoy, W. (2017). Make just one change : Teach students to ask their own questions (7th printing ed.). Cambridge (Massachusetts): Harvard Education Press.

Wiggins, G., & McTighe, J. (2005). Understanding by design (Expanded 2nd ed.) [Expanded 2nd ed.]. Alexandria, VA: Association for Supervision and Curriculum Development.

Action Plan

On June 4, 2019, all members of the CPLC Wicked Track were tasked with developing a personal action plan to answer the following questions over the course of the ensuing two months:

What will I need to learn about the course?

I will need to determine from CPLC discussions whether and how the TaWP mission differs from that of last year’s FYS. My understanding is that the name and credit count was changed, but that the main thrust remains the same. In other words, instructors who taught FYS in fall 2018 in the spirit it was intended will not have to make substantial changes to their plans for fall 2019.

[Edit: My own last sentence above may give the impression I just want to teach the same course the same way I did last year. I don’t. I want to improve on the parts that worked and learn lessons from the parts that didn’t work. What I believe remains the same from last year is the HoMs, learning objectives, PBL, and open pedagogy.]

What activities will I need to engage in?

I will look over last year’s syllabus, class activities, and assignments to decide what–in light of that experience–should be changed, replaced, or updated. Reflecting on my memory of classroom success and student feedback will be a guiding factor during this process.

What will you ned to read/discuss/write about?

I intend to continue reading Eyler’s How Humans Learn and blogging (here) as a way to interpret and understand some of the important lessons of educational research.

The Hungry Mind and the Educated Mind

The most exciting phrase to hear in science, the one that heralds new discoveries, is not “Eureka” but “That’s funny…” 

—Isaac Asimov (1920–1992) 
 https://www.americanscientist.org/article/thats-funny  
Babies Learn from Surprises. Stahl and Feigenson.

One of the common threads Joshua Eyler identified while researching How Humans Learn is curiosity. Most every reader intuitively grasps the meaning of curiosity, but scholars have leveled varying definitions.

Eyler cites Bardo, Donohew, and Harrington, who call it the “inherent biological need for novelty.” Piaget called it “the search for the new.”

How you define curiosity may depend on your field and your point-of-view, but one theme that emerges again and again is, in the words of behavioral economist George Loewenstein, an information gap, the metaphorical void between what one knows and what one would like to know.

But to call it simply a gap would be incomplete. Curiosity is like the electric potential that traverses a circuit or the wind produced by a pressure gradient in the atmosphere. It’s an innate urge to resolve a disparity.

Gruber, Gelman, and Ranganath document the association between higher curiosity and improved learning and memory. The underlying mechanism appears to be dopamine, a neurotransmitter involved in motivation and reward.

“There is a clear empirical link between the hungry mind and the educated mind.”

Susan Engel, The Hungry Mind
Susan Engel on how to avoid stifling curiosity in the classroom.

The greater the disparity, the greater the curiosity. Stahl and Feigenson’s study of infants showed how, from the earliest age, unexpected observations heighten curiosity.

For example, babies who witnessed a toy seemingly defying physics used play to study the toy’s behavior. For example, a ball made to look like it was hovering would have its gravitation tested later when an infant sought the ball and dropped it.

Eyler adduces other studies to show how children are inherently curious, and that this curiosity fades over time.

Although it fades, it never disappears, a feature Konrad Lorenz called a neoteny: a childhood trait that has been preserved through adulthood.

Vibrant scientific discussion continues to investigate the evolutionary underpinnings of curiosity and the human brain’s other defining characteristics, but it remains ripe for the picking.

The mind, therefore, seems wired with the potential for lifelong exploration; by presenting what’s unexpected we can provoke the curiosity that catalyses learning.

Eyler muses:

“What if we already know how to educate ourselves?  What if the process is a natural one that simply requires our attention, cultivation,  and guidance to be fully utilized?”

Joshua Eyler. How Humans Learn. (2018)

References

Bardo, M. T., Donohew, R. L., & Harrington, N. G. (1996). Psychobiology of novelty seeking and drug seeking behavior. Behavioural brain research, 77(1-2), 23-43. https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/0166432895002030

Engel, S. (2015). The hungry mind : The origins of curiosity in childhood. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press. https://plymouth.on.worldcat.org/oclc/887605511

Gruber, M. J., Gelman, B. D., & Ranganath, C. (2014). States of curiosity modulate hippocampus-dependent learning via the dopaminergic circuit. Neuron, 84(2), 486-496. https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0896627314008046

Loewenstein, G. (1994). The psychology of curiosity: A review and reinterpretation. Psychological Bulletin, 116(1), 75–98. https://doi-org.libproxy.plymouth.edu/10.1037/0033-2909.116.1.75

Piaget, J. (1953). The origin of intelligence in the child. Routledge and Kegan Paul.

Stahl, A. E., & Feigenson, L. (2015). Observing the unexpected enhances infants’ learning and exploration. Science, 348(6230), 91-94. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5861377/

The Scientist as Child

In How Humans Learn (2018), author Joshua Eyler reminds us he’s a medievalist, not an education scholar. Eyler’s book, then, is his distillation of others’ work. He selects and presents research drawn from related disciplines, like evolutionary developmental biology (evo-devo), psychology (both cognitive and developmental), and neuroscience.

The Amazing Minds of Very Young Children

One such example comes from psychologist Alison Gopnik. Eyler draws on her learning theories on children and adults. In her 1996 article, The Scientist as Child, Gopnik likens the innate learning methods found in humans from birth to the empirical methods used in science:

Science may be successful largely because it exploits powerful and flexible cognitive devices that were designed by evolution to facilitate learning in young children.

Gopnik, A. (1996). The Scientist as Child. Philosophy of Science,63(4), 485-514. Retrieved from http://www.jstor.org/stable/188064

This view inverts the traditional notion that children can be taught science, asserting instead that scientists, in some ways, are merely adult practitioners of childlike curiosity. On this view, scientists, children, and everyone else are, to varying degrees, indebted to evolution for their investigative prowess. Eyler writes:

The building blocks of human learning are put into place when we are very young and continue to influence the way we make sense of the world throughout our lives.

(Eyler, 9)

Yet, this prowess fades somewhat after childhood. As Gopnik explains in this interview, four-year-olds are better at sussing out unexpected solutions than young adults. She suggests, therefore, rather than making preschools more academic, we should be making the academy more like preschool.

Eyler suggests the learning disparity between young children and older ones is due to the loss of curiosity, the subject of chapter two. Would Gopnik’s prescription forestall the ebb of youthful curiosity? Perhaps we’ll find out.

The challenge, a challenge, is how not to squander the students’ remaining natural curiosity in Tackling a Wicked Problem and how to restore what’s already lost.

No One Wants to Look Bad in Public

To ready myself for teaching the first year seminar (now Tackling a Wicked Problem) a second time, I’m planning to read How Humans Learn (Joshua Eyler, 2018).

It’s one of six books recommended by the leaders of the Cluster Pedagogy Learning Community, a group of Plymouth State faculty who committed themselves to advancing certain learning and teaching methods during the upcoming year.

But instead of simply reading it, I decided to be more rigorous:

  1. Read
  2. Take notes
  3. Reflect
  4. Blog

Annotation and reflection, of course, will help me comprehend the author’s most useful takeaways, but why blog them as well?

One answer is found in Project-Based Learning (PBL), a pedagogical style that vests learners with authority to guide their own practical, problem-solving activities. Learning is more complete and effective, PBL advocates hold, when both the problem examined and the solution proposed are of real-world import.

One component of PBL, Public Product, is described by the Buck Institute for Education this way:

“a public product adds greatly to [Project-Based Learning’s] motivating
power and encourages high-quality work. Think
of what often happens when students make
presentations to their classmates and teacher. The
stakes are not high, so they may slack off, not take
it seriously, and not care as much about the quality
of their work. But when students have to present
or display their work to an audience beyond the
classroom, the performance bar raises, since no
one wants to look bad in public
.” (emphasis added)

Buck Institute for Education. (2015). Gold standard PBL: Essential project
     design elements [Pamphlet]. Buck Institute for Education.

No one wants to look bad in public. This aversion, the thinking goes, fosters a motivating anxiety. When one’s work is held up to examination and scrutiny, that work is likely to be of higher quality. That is the spirit in which I created this blog.