Paint the Fence: The Story of Two Learners

My wife is currently pursuing her supervision certification. Recently a professor gave an assignment following the final essay she had submitted: "Find an article about curriculum. Write a one page response to the article."

So after the Final (early 14c., from Old French final and directly from Latin finalis "of or pertaining to an end, concluding, final," from finis "end" (see finish). As a noun, late 14c., "that which comes last;" - from the Online Etymology Dictionary), there was yet another assignment that seemingly had little connection with any of the learning done previously in the class. The fact that the word curriculum is in the assignment did little to bolster the cohesiveness of the study of curriculum that had taken place over the past 14 weeks.

There was much colorful commentary about the senselessness of such a task.

The assignment actually spurred a conversation about curriculum, teacher efficacy, how we learn, and The Karate Kid (the real one).

When I was in school, I was told to do work, and I did work.  I didn't need to know why. I didn't need relevance. I needed to get it done. Down the road, the work I was doing would translate, and I would understand the why. I thought I was a normal learner.

However, once I started teaching, I realized that there are those learners in the world who will not do an assignment simply because it is assigned.  Those learners want to know why.

"Why do I need to do this?"

"When am I going to use this in the real world?"

"How is this going to impact me in the future?"

I was stymied. Who are these students who question the pedagogue?! Just do it.  Look at Daniel Larusso! He didn't see how painting the fence was going to help. He didn't understand why he was required to wax on and wax off for hours on end, but guess what.  He did it.  He did all of it, and he beat nearly all members of Cobra Kai and won the All Valley Tournament as a heavy underdog.

Yes, that was the way I thought about it. The Karate Kid supported my argument that although we may not know the point from the beginning, when the time is right, we will ultimately be able to use what we've learned to do something amazing.

The truth of it is that for a teacher to be truly effective, there has to be a plan.  The lessons are scaffolded, and there is a plan for how the work being done will enable the students to use the skills being developed in activities that involve bigger, more advanced, higher order thinking. When an educator communicates the process with the students, they are able to see the road map, and they are able to take ownership of their own arrival at the destination. Students won't have to hope they notice that the time is right to apply what they've learned, they'll be ready and on the lookout for the opportunities to do so.

Are you someone who needs to know where you're going? Do you give your students the road map so they'll be prepared? Or do you get them to sand the deck and paint the house to surprise them with what they're actually learning? I'd love to hear from you.