Learning styles... again

Clive Shepherd has broached this much visited this subject, and Stephen Downes (among others) has weighed in with his views. My own contribution takes the form of a paper I wrote some time ago, reproduced here verbatim. Apologies - it's a lot longer than my usual offering (it was originally submitted on my MA programme, which required 3000 words give or take 10%):

I am aware that when I state my view on learning styles, I am greeted with consternation that borders on accusations of heresy. Perhaps with this post (an adaptation of a paper I submitted on my MA programme) I can account for myself. I apologise that it is somewhat lengthy, but, if you are at all interested in the topic, I urge you to stick with it to the end. I have also included a list of links and reference in case your curiosity is sufficiently piqued to want to investigate further for yourself (which I hope it is!).

Background - personal stance

I first encountered the Peter Urs Bender personality styles model (original source unknown) in 1990 as a freelance training consultant in South Africa. It had become a popular feature of customer service and management development training programmes, and had been passed from hand to hand so many times that the name and underlying theories had become separated from the model itself. It did not occur to me to question its validity, since it seemed to make sense on an intuitive level. Like many others in my profession, I familiarised myself with the model and its application and jumped on the bandwagon.

I was introduced to the concept of learning styles as a formalised theory when I undertook a City & Guilds Certificate in Further Education Teaching at a further education College in 2000/2001, where it was taught as if it were fact.

The college itself was unswervingly committed to the Dunn and Dunn VAK model (1984), and every new student undertook a test known as QuickScan to identify their preferred learning style. The results were included on every student’s file and tutors were expected to show an awareness of the balance of styles represented in each class. Furthermore, lesson plans and schemes of work had to indicate where provision was being made for each learning style. (Note: at the time of writing, this approach was still in place)

Once again, because I found the material logical and easy to understand, it never occurred to me to question the validity of the theories or the research. I embraced it enthusiastically, to the extent that I developed a resource for my students at the IT learning centre, by means of which they could identify their own learning style and adopt some tactics that would enable them to maximise their learning experience at the centre.

In the intervening years, I have encountered an increasing number of anomalies to both the VAK and Kolb-based models (including Myers-Briggs and Urs Bender). I became concerned at the infallibility which appeared to be imputed to these models, when in fact few people seemed to be a perfect fit on anything more than a superficial level.

It should be known from the outset that my current stance is diametrically opposed to that held up to and somewhat beyond 2001 – although I would be hard pressed to name a single date or incident which marked the reversal.

Situation 1: Cert Ed case studies: deaf student

One of the assignments for the second phase of the C&G certificate involved learning style case studies. Of my four chosen case studies, one was deaf with attendant poor oral communication skills. I was surprised at the time that her QuickScan test showed her to be an auditory learner, and discussed this with the staff member responsible for testing. I was categorically assured that it was impossible for a deaf person to be an auditory learner, since they lack an auditory faculty. The test supervisor ascribed the anomaly to the student’s poor reading skills. It is true to say that, like many deaf people, her reading age was well below her chronological age (Brown and Adams, 1990), however, I was unsatisfied with this explanation, since she had had a reader for the test, who signed the questions to her.

The following is an excerpt from an email exchange between Dr Gemma Calvert[1], and me during July 2007 (Dr Calvert is the Reader in Cognitive Neuroscience, Department of Psychology, University of Bath):

KR: Do deaf people use the same areas of the brain to process sign language as hearing people do to process spoken language?

GC: The answer to the first question is yes, in part. Deaf signing activates some of the same auditory speech areas that hearing people use when listening to speech.

In research conducted by Mairéad MacSweeney, it was found that “the left posterior perisylvian cortex is of fundamental importance to language processing, regardless of the modality in which it is conveyed.” (MacSweeney et al, 2004). If the identification of an individual’s preferred learning style as auditory is an indication of brain area activity rather than of dominance of a sensory organ, this would imply to my (admittedly limited) understanding that a deaf learner is as likely to have an auditory preference as any other learner.

Situation 2: inconsistency of style

By 2001, I had identified myself by means of the QuickScan questionnaire as a primarily kinaesthetic learner, and by means of the various models based upon Kolb’s learning cycle diagram (DeBello 1990) as an activist (Honey and Mumford model – Honey and Mumford, 2000) and an expressive (Peter Urs Bender’s model, year unknown).

Superficially, this would account for my extrovert nature and my tendency to start activities without first taking time to familiarise myself with instructions and constraints. However, this failed to account for the fact that I was able to make perfect sense of the pictorial instructions that came with flatpacks whereas my husband, purportedly a visual learner, was not. Nor did it satisfactorily explain my skill and preference for quietly contemplative, reflective activities such as reading, sudoku and cryptic crossword puzzles.

Niggling doubts

As I see it, the following shortcomings need to be considered:

1. The very method of test completion immediately disadvantages certain people. For example, is a written test appropriate for a person with severe dyslexia? Even when the services of a scribe are engaged, is there certainty that the introduction of a third party in no way influences the outcome?
2. The circumstances under which the test is taken may influence the outcome. If the test is taken at the start of what is to be an academic course of study, the learners are likely to be mindful of their approach to classroom based learning as they respond. However, if the test is taken as part of a management development programme, the learners are likely to be mindful of behaviours and habits in the workplace.
3. A single individual is likely to adopt widely differing approaches to different learning activities – almost certainly within the course of a lifetime, but even possibly within a single day. For example, consider the learning approaches that may be adopted in the following circumstances:

• Acquiring fluency in a language
• Learning to drive a car
• Memorising the highway code
• Gaining proficiency in the use of a new software application
• Mastering a new piece of piano music
• Learning to sing a new song
• Recognising “what not to wear” as identified in the popular television series of the same name.

As long ago as 1948, Bertram Forer had begun to conduct experiments that cast doubt over the validity of the concepts of learning and personality styles. The Forer effect “is the observation that individuals will give high accuracy ratings to descriptions of their personality that supposedly are tailored specifically for them, but are in fact vague and general enough to apply to a wide range of people.” (Wikipedia, 2007). This is closely related to Marks’s theory of subjective validation, which “occurs when two unrelated or even random events are perceived to be related because a belief, expectancy, or hypothesis demands a relationship” (Wikipedia, 2007)

There is not even the convenience of a single ontology when it comes to discussing learning styles. Coffield et al identified no fewer than 71 models (2004), each of which identifies learning styles according to a different set of criteria. Whilst there is commonality and overlap between some models, there is no mapping the VAK model to the MBTI model, for example: a visual learner is no more likely to test as any one of the many possible Myers-Briggs combinations than any other. And again, there is no way of predicting whether an auditory learner is more likely to be an expressive, analytical, driver or amiable on the Urs Bender model.

Into this minefield, the teacher or corporate trainer (referred to collectively as teachers from here on) is often expected to venture by a management totally unaware that their own understanding of the field is not unlike that of the Indian fable about three blind men describing an elephant, each only touching one part of the animal. Teachers appointed to an organisation are presented with the functionality of the organisation’s chosen model, and are thereafter expected to comply with this model, conducting tests few are qualified to conduct and basing their teaching approaches on deductions that few are qualified to make.

In the formal education sector, learning style models have been widely adopted as a top down measure from the state. Some schools are still adhering rigorously to the tenets of the VAK model, in spite of the fact that (to my firsthand knowledge) the National Strategies have been instructed by the DCFS to withdraw all their learning materials on the subject. This was as a consequence of a report called About Learning submitted In June 2004 by the Demos think tank to Schools Standards Minister David Milliband. The report declared learning style models to be of “doubtful reliability and validity”, pointing to a lack of evidence that teaching practice was in any way improved by their use – even suggesting, in fact, that the converse was true.

They know not that they know not

The level of commitment to the model of choice in various organisations appears, in some cases, to have reached almost mindless proportions. Witness the following accounts:

1. A recruitment advertisement listed as ‘essential’ the ability to deliver learning which engaged “all four learning styles”. When I enquired about the learning styles model being applied, it became clear that there was an underlying assumption that there was only a handful of models to choose from and that “everyone knew” that MBTI was accepted as the industry standard. It also became clear that the model being referred to as MBTI was, in fact, Honey and Mumford’s model.
2. Holly Lodge Girls’ School in Liverpool has introduced a colour coded system which identifies learners’ according to their learning styles (DfES website August 2007).
3. A fellow student on my MA programme indicated that tests had been conducted at his school using one of the Kolb-inspired quadrant models. Results showed that the largest proportion of children in the school belonged to one quadrant, while success within the current assessment system had been identified as being largely the province of children belonging to the diametrically opposed quadrant. The head teacher instructed teachers to find means of converting children from one learning style to the other.

Where teachers are expected to draw up lesson plans that cater to each of the styles of their organisations chosen models, they are at risk of building up expectations of which learners will engage with which activities. It is undeniably useful that teachers are encouraged to plan lessons with a wide range of activities, rather than the monomodal “chalk and talk” approach of years gone by. It is indubitably true that learners are more engaged with the learning in such instances. However, one wonders whether it is it not just as likely that the learners are able to remain interested due to the changing “scenery” in the form of media and delivery mechanisms rather than because a particular learning style is being addressed.

The subject of learning styles crops up in repeated debates in the edublogosphere. In Educause Connect in June 2008, Catherine Howell opines that “what they actually offer is less than a theory of learning than a caricature of learners”. Her contention is that “researchers can’t agree on “what” learning is (neurophysical? social? psychological?), second because they can’t even agree “where” it occurs (in the teacher-student relationship? in the classroom? in the student’s head?).”

In his “x28’s new blog”, Matthias Melcher reflects on his abortive attempts to find recent online resources about cognitive styles, and observes that online aggregator searches are conducted mainly by non-English speaking countries, where the concept still appears to have more currency (5 July 2006). Since his profile includes links to his own results from a variety of such tests, one assumes that he sets enough store by this information to regard it as meaningful to his readers. This is borne out by the opening sentence of a later post on the same blog (the emphasis is his): “C. Quinn and H. Jarche have one word on learning styles: “rubbish”. I do not agree.” (2 July 2007). Sadly, he has not provided a link to the offending posts by the two authors. In his view the fault lies in that adherents of learning style theories tend to overload the concept with the classification of personality styles in addition to cognitive styles of learning and, moreover, fail to distinguish between styles and abilities. In his view “as long as style is confused with ability, teachers and researchers won’t admit to themselves that they also belong to one or another style, or they will take it for granted that they belong to the “superior” one”. (Melcher, 2007)

I have not found any evidence of one style being put forward as superior to another in any model.

Donald Clark – admittedly a well-known iconoclast, and something of a sensationalist in the edublogosphere – describes an instance where he “presented the Coffield research on learning styles at a coaching conference” after which he “received an abusive email from Peter Honey (who was in the audience)”. Allegedly, at some point during an exchange of emails between the two parties Honey “did admit, however, that there was no scientific evidence to back up his theory – the famous Honey and Mumford model.” (Clark, 2007)

I think I could do no better than to end with an (unfortunately lengthy) extract from James Atherton’s Heterodoxy blog, in a post unequivocally called Learning Styles Don’t Matter (2007) in which he describes the members of a class:

In this class there is a serialist pragmatist kinaesthetic learner (who is also field-dependent, not to mention his MBTI) primarily a convergent thinker, high on logico-mathematical intelligence but low on linguistic intelligence, sitting next to a holist, reflector, primarily visual and field-independent... who is also chronically shy (no-one mentions that). Even assuming that such things can be assessed with some validity and reliability, which is itself far from clear — what are you going to do about it? There are after all thirty other students in the class, each of whom could be described in similar terms. And two-thirds of them are female, and one-third male (two of whom are gay). Five of the class are from ethnic minorities, two are dyslexic, one is visually impaired, and three are clinically depressed (although only one of them knows it). Six are "mature" students — at least, they are chronologically over 25.

In other words, a fairly typical class, composed of people. (One of them has his Yorkshire terrier in a holdall, but perhaps we can ignore that.) You, of course are...

References

Atherton, J S (2002) Heterodoxy: Learning styles don't matter [On-line] UK; Available: http://doceo.co.uk/heterodoxy/styles.htm Accessed: 2 July 2007

Bender, Peter Urs (1997) Leadership from Within. Stoddart. ISBN 0773759034. Questionnaire originally undertaken (source unknown) 1990 – extract reviewed online at http://www.peterursbender.com/quiz/swtable.html 29 September 2007.

Bishop, D. V. M. and Adams, C. (1990) A Prospective Study of the Relationship between Specific Language Impairment, Phonological Disorders and Reading Retardation Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry 31 (7), 1027–1050. doi:10.1111/j.1469-7610.1990.tb00844.x

Clark, Donald (2007) Professor pans ‘learning style’ teaching in Donald Clark Plan B 12 August 2007. Published online at http://donaldclarkplanb.blogspot.com/2007/08/professor-pans-learning-style-teaching_12.html. Accessed 15 August 2007.

Coffield, F.; Moseley, D.; Hall, E.; Ecclestone, K. (2004) Learning Styles and Pedagogy in Post-16 Learning. Learning and Skills Research Centre.

DeBello, T.C. (1990) Comparisons of Eleven Major Learning Styles Models Journal of Reading, Writing and Learning Disabilities, 6:203-222. Accessed online at www.ldrc.ca/projects/atutor/content/7/debello.htm 4 July 2007.

Demos think tank (2004) About Learning. Published by Demos. June 2004. Accessed online at http://www.demos.co.uk/files/About_learning.pdf on 15 August 2008.

DfES (DCFS) website (2007) Case study: Holly Lodge Girls’ School accessed online at http://www.standards.dfes.gov.uk/sie/documents/hollylodge.pdf on 15 August 2007.

Dunn, R., Dunn, K., & Price, G. E. (1984). Learning style inventory. Lawrence, KS, USA: Price Systems in Wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Learning_styles accessed 29 September 2007 and Learning Styles and Pedagogy in Post-16 Learning (2004) Coffield et al.

Forer, Bertram R. (1949) The fallacy of personal validation: A classroom demonstration of gullibility". Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology 44: 118-123. In Wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Forer_effect) last accessed 29 September 2007

Honey, Peter and Mumford, Alan (2000) Learning Styles Questionnaire (80-Item). ISBN 1 902899 07 5.

Howell, Catherine (2005) Do learner profiles enhance learning? In Educause Connect 8 July 2005. Accessed online at http://connect.educause.edu/blog/catherine/dolearnerprofilesenh/730?time=1191104571 2 July 2007.

MacSweeney, Mairéad et al (2004). Dissociating Linguistic and Nonlinguistic Gestural Communication in the Brain. NueroImage 22 (2004) pp 1605-1618.

Marks, David F. (2000) The Psychology of the Psychic. Prometheus Books ISBN 1573927988. In Wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Forer_effect) last accessed 29 September 2007.

Martin, Isabel (date unknown) Helping Students to Learn More Effectively accessed online at http://www.quickscn.com/studyscn/WKCQS1.htm 29 September 2007

Melcher, Mathias (2006) Cognitive Style Theories in x28’s new blog. Online at http://x28newblog.blog.uni-heidelberg.de/2006/07/05/cognitive-styles-theories/ Accessed 2 July 2007.

Melcher, Mathias (2007) Learning Styles called Rubbish in x28’s new blog. Online at http://x28newblog.blog.uni-heidelberg.de/2007/07/02/learning-styles-called-rubbish/ Accessed 2 July 2007.

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[1]My thanks go to Professor John Geake for putting me in touch with Dr Calvert

So let me explain...

I am about to become self-employed. It's an idea I have been toying with for some time, but it never seemed like the right time. Many of you have told me time and again that you think me ill-suited to the corporate machine. The trouble is, I am rather well suited to the financial security of a regular paycheque.

Then a whole bunch of circumstances came together very quickly which resulted in my having to hand in my notice at work. Perhaps I will go into more detail at some later date, but the situation is still a little fragile.

So the Learning Anorak has been born. The logo is still a work in progress, and is receiving the attention of a professional, but this is it for now. What do you think?

For some time I have been referring to myself by this name in various spaces, so it seemed logical to carry the theme through.

Many people have been extraordinarily supportive. Mark Berthelemy has (as always) shared freely of his advice and expertise. Harold Jarche, who has walked this path himself, has made himself available as friend, mentor and adviser. Kristina Schneider has been a shoulder to cry on, and has applied all the right insults to the right people to become a friend for life. Several people have given me the names of people and organisations to contact. A man I have never met (but who knows my husband) has offered to put my details in front of the board of a large organisation.

You see, I know I'm good at what I do. And there are people who will back me up on that. The trick is to get the word out there, and people have been astonishingly kind in helping me to do that. I remarked on this in conversation with an associated recently, to which he replied, "Well the more you slice this cake, the bigger it grows."

So I have hung out my shingle. Advice, references and introductions... and prayers... welcomed!

It's a very sad thing...

For some years, I have been targeting a specific organisation as a place I'd really like to work. I've had cause to visit their premises several times and have always felt bouyed by the evident passion and enthusiasm of the people who work there. Having had my fill of cynicism and eye-rolling, I relished the idea of being surrounded by fellow wild-eyed zealots. They have always struck me as an organisation that is prepared to break with tradition, to push the envelope, to... oh heck, there's no other way of saying it... think outside the box, colour outside the lines (pick your cliche).

On every occasion, my applications have fallen at the first hurdle, and I was at a loss as to why. As recently as a few weeks ago, I made yet another application and yet again did not make the first round of interviews. This time, I was able to contact the person recruiting for the role and find out where my shortcomings were, so that I could address them next time around.

I was deeply saddened that my application was dismissed primarily because I do not hold a first degree. I have cobbled together enough pieces of formal education over the years to be accepted onto not one but two post-graduate study programmes. I am half way through a Master's degree programme. I have more informal learning than you can shake a stick at, and twenty years of experience in the field of L&D. How gut-wrenchingly dismaying that all this counts for nought if you cannot produce a piece of paper that says that you have a Bachelor's degree.

Yes, there were two other points on which I didn't demonstrate evidence of competency, and that is my fault. But the way that the response was worded made it very clear that the primary reason for my rejection was that dratted piece of paper.

You know, when I left school, I would have loved to go to university, but the money wasn't there, and the banks wouldn't agree to a loan, since I was a girl who wanted to study mechanical engineering design. Shock horror. The attrition rate among girls in that field was so high, and the employment opportunities for women so rare in those days, that the banks didn't consider it a worthwhile risk.

In the intervening thirty years, I have bust my butt to make up for what recruiters saw as a lack. I followed (and passed) two teaching diploma courses simultaneously from in the period 1980-82. In addition to the things I have already listed, I have attended more short courses than many people have had hot dinners. I have put myself through so many CBT and VBT programmes on such a wide range of subjects, it would make your head spin.

When I decided to embark on my current MA programme, most universities could not see beyond my lack of a B degree (including the organisation at the heart of this post - in spite of the fact that it is theoretically possible to gain access by other means of proving competency). When I approached my current university, they said "Good grief! Of course we'll have you." And never once have I felt that the rest of my cohort outperforms me in any way because they have something I don't. Quite the contrary, in fact.

I had honestly hoped that my disadvantaged start was something I was going to be able to put behind me. But, sad to say, it seems that this is not to be the case. Even though it is some time since I my big four-oh.

When I suffered my first broken heart, an older, wiser woman told me that the best thing to do when you've been rejected is to look good and have fun. Let him see what he's missed out on, darling. What do you suppose the professional equivalent is?

Surely we have reached a stage in our attitudes towards learning where we see beyond formal programmes? Have we not moved on from the perception that only a university can really educate a person, where university educated=superior, non-university educated=puh-lease, don't waste my time?

Yes, I am a bit annoyed. Yes, I am feeling a bit bitter, and the chip on my shoulder is probably digging into my stiff neck.

But most of all I am sad. Disillusioned.

Meaningful assessment

We're a long way from through the turbulent period that I referred to in my last post, but I just had to get this off my chest.

I have a son who is closing in on his 17th birthday. In the UK, this means that the will be old enough to start learning to drive. This, in turn, means that he is madly trying to learn the highway code for the theory test.

I looked for a few sample tests online for him to try out... and, of course, tried them out myself. Like all drivers of many years' standing, I didn't fare too well! But one of the tests got right up my nose. I got 0/20!

Unlike all the other tests, this was not a multiple choice option. This test presented a picture of a roadsign and asked what it was. Fine, you might think. When I'm driving along the road, I don't get four options under each sign from which to select the right one. So, if I am not able to recognise the sign without prompts, I should probably not be driving, right?

Only, this is where the automated testing process falls down. Because of the limitations of the technology, responses were only marked as correct if the user entered the description verbatim from the highway code.

How is "decrease speed" a more correct response than "slow down"? Why is a "speed limit" not as acceptable as a "speed restriction"?

Even supposing I was able to answer all 20 questions verbatim, how is that any indication that I know what I'm supposed to do?

Surely the true measure of my knowledge of roadsigns is that I know how to respond to them? Note to my son: Shouting out "You're telling me!" does not constitute the required response to this sign.

It all comes back to our knowledge versus behaviour argument.

Then again, even knowing what to do and when to do it is no guarantee that it will be done! I am fairly certain that every single boy racer in the town knows that the speed limit restriction is 30 miles per hour. I'm fairly sure that he also knows what he needs to do in order to observe it. But to what extent does his actual behaviour reflect this knowledge?

Hmmm.

We may experience some turbulence

Things ahead are looking decidedly stormy and uncertain. The wheels are falling off in all directions. You may already have noticed a few changes on the blog. I apologise if you are adversely affected by them.

I'm in for a rough ride for the next few weeks, and there is a strong likelihood that no-one will be getting much sense out of me, so I'll spare you the gory details and see you on the other side... deo volente.

The accidental tourist looks at clouds from both sides now

My husband, a newbie blogger, shares his views of cloud computing. I think some of the issues he raises will either gel with or grate on the views of some of the readers of this blog. Which camp are you in?

Mourning the person unknown

There are times when my naturally empathetic nature causes me great distress. Today, I read about the passing of Leroy Sievers. He had not really made a blip on my radar until very recently as a result of something Andy Carvin said on Twitter.

This is the third time in quick succession that someone has died who was unknown to me, but highly respected, honoured, possibly even revered by people within my online circle. The other two were Randy Pausch and Lee Baber. When I read Vicki Davis's post about Lee's death, I followed a link that took me to Lee's Facebook page and discovered that she and I had 6 friends in common. Yet I didn't know her.

In every case I found myself wondering how I could not ahve known them. Good grief - look at their legacies! Did I have my head in the sand?

The grief of people I know causes echoes in my own heart and I hurt, too. I mourn these people I did not know. I feel cheated that I only found out about them when it was too late. I read about their work, the impact they had on the world around them. The deep affection they sparked in those who knew them. The energy they exuded. And I find myself feeling a sense of loss. A sadness that they are no more. Sure, they have all left a legacy. But they have also all left a hole. People who feel as if they have been torn open and plundered. People who must now contemplate a life where the word 'normal' just can't apply, because 'normal' was a paradigm in which the presence of the person now gone was a given.

At times like these, I feel as if I just want to pull you all closer and acknowledge and thank you for your presence, your influence, your contribution. You have become an inextricable part of my world view at this stage of my life.

I'd like to end this post by pointing at this series of Calvin & Hobbes cartoons - possibly the saddest thing Bill Watterson ever did, and he nailed it perfectly. Those of you who have been around me for a while will know that for me to use the strip as an analogy is neither unusual not a trivialisation. I consider Bill Watterson's work to include momentous wisdom on occasion, and it often resonates with things that run very deep in me.

I'd like to say with Calvin: Don't YOU go anywhere!

Okay?

Come here!

I'm sitting here in my study at home. In the next room is my younger son on his laptop. In the room next to that is my older son on his. They're playing a game called Gunz. My older son has created a clan, which he has invited my younger son to join and he's teaching him some of the techniques he has learned. They call to each other in the next room, while their avatars interact on screen.

At one point, my elder son called out, "No wait! Le tme show you how to do that, come here."

My younger son, got up and made the long and arduous journey of about 6 steps.

"No, not you!" said his brother, "Him." He pointed at his brother's avatar on the screen.

Sometimes, when one of them has learned something new, he wants the physical presence of his brother in the room, so that he can show him the keystroke sequence in conjunction with the on screen dynamics. Other times, physical presence is not required and "Come here!" is a command to be obeyed virtually, not literally.

It's an interesting dynamic, and I can't help feeling that they would do well to invent two different terms to communicate their expectations. Then again, most of the time, the circumstances seem to be the clue as to which "Come here!" applies on this occasion. So perhaps I'm just being middle-aged and overly practical (I do, after all, tend to call for the establishment of taxonomies a lot of the time these days, working as I do with teams drawn from different businesses, sectors, contexts).

I love it when my boys play nicely together. When they were little, they used to play long, involved games of pretend, which seemed to consist more of plot-setting than of actually playing (but I always thought the collaborative strategising was a worthwhile skill to develop, so I left them to it). Now that they're older, they still prefer to play as a team than as opponents - facing the rest of the avatars together (sing with me now, "It's you and me against the world...").

When they were very little and the baby took something that belonged to the toddler, the toddler would want it back without making the baby cry. So I told him, "Find something he wants more. If you can learn to negotiate, you'll have a skill that you can use for life."

To this day, my older son will go to great lengths not to do whatever the teenage equivalent is of making the baby cry. This entails teaching him everything he knows as soon as he learns it. He will even set himself up as a willing target for his brother to try out new fight moves on until he has mastered them enough for them to go out together and conquer the rest of their virtual planet.

It isn't always the older one teaching the younger, but it usually is - and my younger son accepts it as his due to be the padewan. Interesting case study for the birth order psychology adherents, I guess.

Come here. Let me show you. Let me teach you. Come here in person. Come here in your avatar form.

Yeon Duk Woo - partnerships in learning

Nothing I say about or add to this young man's address would do it any justice. Please just view it yourself and be moved, challenged... maybe even changed. Hat tip to Dave Warlick for the pointer.

Knowledge does not equal skills does not equal behaviour

This post and the ensuing comments had previously been removed at the insistence of my manager. Since I no longer work for them, I feel no qualms about reinstating the post. Unfortunately, I am unable to reinstate the comments.

One of the things that really bothers me about compliance type training is the whole assessment model and the conclusions that are drawn from it.

Increasingly, it seems to me that the way we demonstrate to the marketplace our excellence in a particular area is to acquire accreditation. We acquire accreditation by complying with the stated behaviours as laid out by the accrediting body. We demonstrate compliance with the required behaviours by... well by passing a multiple choice test, of course!

The thing is, the multiple choice test is usually so facile that pretty much anyone can pass it, so essentially is assesses nothing. Well, that's one of the things anyway.

The other is that a multiple choice test... or any written test for that matter, is not evidence of behaviour.

Let's say the matter at hand is people management. We can put our manager through any number of training interventions, ranging from boring to highly engaging. What we test at the end (if the test is written) is knowledge. As I have said several times in meetings over the past few days - if knowledge equalled behaviour, our jails would be empty.

Let's say we really branch out and devise a role play test of some sort, presenting our friendly manager with a whole bunch of scenarios in which he must acquit himself. Even supposing some of those tests are blind, they test skills. Being able to do something and actually doing it are not always the same thing.The only way to assess whether behaviour matches up to standards/expectations is through on the job assessment, which brings us back to our performance review process.

Far too often, the appraisal/review/call it what you will process is seen as something that a manager does to a staff member. Almost as often, the manager resents having to take the time away from the day job to carry out these reviews.

Over the past few days I have had to look at ways that make clear the following two points:

• A manager is supposed to manage people. A manager is not just an operative with a higher salary. Supporting the personal development of staff members is the day job. Sadly, managers' own KPIs seldom reflect this.
• Managers do not review staff members' performance. Managers and staff members discuss past performance, future development and long term career planning together and set in place together some objectives to help each staff member realise their potential.

In the movie Rain Man, Dustin Hoffman's character is a numeric savante. He can perform the most spectularly complex numeric calculations in his head. He knows numbers. But when asked how much change he should get from a simple purchase, he didn't have a clue. He simply could not transfer his numeric knowledge into a practical skill, let alone a behaviour.

Knowledge ≠ skill ≠ behaviour.

How do you make it right?

This post is not directly related to learning, but it has a lot to do with school and expectations and bullying and exclusion.

Nearly thirty years ago, I finished high school. I am still in touch with several of the girls who were in high school with me. Some have remained in touch ever since high school, others have regained contact with the advent of Facebook.

But there has been one girl I have been hunting for for over 10 years.

You see, I wasn't quite one of the 'beautiful people' in high school, but I wasn't far from it. I was bright, bubbly, pretty (if I say so myself), sporty. I was popular with the boys. I was in the first team for netball and atheletics (track). I was in debating team. I played significant roles in all the school plays. I sang in choir. I was on our version of an academic honour roll. In other words, I was your basic all-rounder. I don't say this to brag, simply to set the scene. The fact that I was riddled with insecurity and constantly in trouble with the teachers because I had no brakes on my tongue (still don't!) was beside the point.

When it came to playing rounders during PE classes, I wasn't the first one chosen, but I wasn't far down the list.

There was one girl who was always picked last. In fact, she wasn't 'picked' at all - she was simply allocated to the side that got second pick. She was a large, lumbering girl. While her weight was probably something she could have done something about, her lack of agility was no doubt genetic. I will call her Jenny.

Her face haunts me. Every PE lesson she knew the drill and she simply stood there, waiting for inevitable. To my shame I was always relieved that I wasn't like her, that I didn't have to deal with that ritual humiliation.

One week, it was my turn to choose, and I got first pick. I chose Jenny. I thought I had the chance to make her feel special just for once. I thought I was being so big-hearted and magnanimous, but everyone laughed, and her shame was worse than ever. Our team got soundly whipped and I was ridiculed for not knowing how to choose a side... in front of Jenny.

As clear as day I can still see her face, and the hurt that was written all over it still cuts me to the quick. Is there any group capable of greater cruelty to their peers than a bunch of teenage girls?

At our 20th reunion, I looked out for her. I hoped to hole up in a quiet corner with her and lay the ghosts to rest. She wasn't there. Why would she be? Why would she want to be reunited with us? For the ten intervening years I have hunted for her. Facebook. Friends reunited. Google. Naymz. LinkedIn. You name it. I have found people with the same name all over the place and contacted every single one of them, only to learn that this was not the person I was looking for.

Then, a couple of days ago, someone mentioned on a new FB group that she was in contact with Jenny's older sister. I asked if she knew how to get in touch with Jenny and was immediately provided with both her home number and her cell phone number (I have pointed out the risks to the person concerned, but that is another issue for another time).

Now I finally hold in my hot little hand the means to contact Jenny and... and... WHAT DO I SAY????

I never thought this far.

Maybe by phoning her and raking up the past, I will just make it all come flooding back - all the hurt and humiliation she thought she had finally left behind.

So tell me, those of you who were the Jenny of your year... how would you prefer the likes of me to handle this? By seeking exoneration from my own pain, would I selfishly be making hers worse?

Vicki, I think you have experience that could help, here. You have shared stories that resonate with this one.

Apologies for the even-more-personal-than-usual post, but perhaps it serves as a sobering reminder that two-thirds of a lifetime later, the foundations laid in high school still remain.

Imagine...

Imagine if no-one ever spoke at meetings unless they were certain that they had the definitive, final solution.

Imagine if no-one ever chatted to their friends unless they were absolutely 100% sure of their facts.

Imagine if no-one ever published an academic paper unless they knew that no-one anywhere could find fault with it.

Imagine if no-one ever conducted a workshop unless they knew that they could answer absolutely every question that the attendees might raise.

Imagine if no-one ever presented at a conference unless they knew every last detail about the subject.

Imagine if no documentaries were ever released until every last piece of information had been captured.

Imagine if no-one ever sent an email unless they were sure it was complete and accurate.

Imagine if no-one ever spoke to their colleagues until they had collected every fact on a subject.

What a silent world it would be! What a small handful of people would hold all the knowledge in the world, until, as they died off, eventually no-one knew anything, because no-one shared their incomplete perspectives and the complete perspective was never achieved.

Ridiculous.

Of course, ridiculous.

So why oh why do we impose these restrictions on collaborative knowledge building, learning, sharing that happens online? Why the moved goalposts? Why the special treatment?

Speakeasy learning

This post and the ensuing comments have been removed by the author. I apologise for any inconvenience caused if you have followed a link to get here.

Learning as a journey

Apologies for those who will see this as a "well duh" post, but I was struck afresh by the analogy of learning as a journey this weekend.

On Sunday afternoon, my husband and I suddenly decided to head for the coast. I needed to feel the sand between my toes. I was born and raised within earshot of the sea and, until we left South Africa, lived at most half an hour's drive from the ocean. Since our arrival in the UK, we seem to have been moving further and further from the sounds, sights and smells that go together with coastal life. So, green or not, and in spite of the cost of fuel, off we set.

We had never previously visited the stretch of coastline that is closest to our current home, so we picked a coastal town that seemed reachable. John did the driving, and I did the navigating (whatever some people - severe language warning - may say on the subject, I am an excellent navigator).

I began to see the partnership as being analogous to that of student and teacher:

• If we see John as the student, I was going along on his journey and had a vested interest in its success.
• If I was in the role of teacher, I was the one telling him where to go and how to reach his objective, even though I had never been there before.
• Because I had the map, I could have told him the entire route he needed to take when we set out, but he would simply have found this confusing. Instead, I would give him the information he needed just as he needed it: "Straight over here, and then left at the next exit onto the A14"
  
• Maps are not infallible (neither are people) so there were one or two surprises along the way. We dealt with them as they arose.
• We reached our destination together.

I got to feel the sand between my toes and stood with my feet in the (surprisingly warm) Atlantic... just as the rain came lashing down.

On the return journey, we switched places and I drove while John navigated a different route back. Long ago we realised that it was not good for our relationship for him to teach me anything. He gives information in the order in which he thinks it ought to be given. I get impatient, because I want it in a different order, and he gets impatient because I keep interrupting him with questions.

As we drove, he would tend to give me longer term instructions than I had given him: "Straight over here, then straight over the next two. Junction 21 could be complicated, but you need to go straight over it and keep going till we get to junction 9." When we passed junction 13 and it had a sign that pointed to our home town, he had wasn't following the map, so there was a period of uncertainty as I worried I might have missed the off-ramp, and he struggled to find our position on the map.

Now, I'm not trying to diss my husband here. I just think I might be the better teacher. He has other skills. But the difference in approach reminded me somewhat of the difference between just-in-case information and just-in-time learning.

Just in case tells you everything long before you're going to need it. Then when you do need it, you have to sift through your memory to find it again, by which time, the moment may have passed. Just in case also leaves you high and dry when the unexpected takes place. Just in case makes no allowance for the gap between head knowledge and practical application.

Just in time tells you what you need to know when you need to know it. Just in time keeps pace with you, so that the information you need is on hand when the unexpected happens. Just in time reflects what is happening now, so it directly addresses the practical application.

Of course, you could argue that both approaches worked equally well, since we arrived home without incident. I will say, though, that I found a way to convert the just in case to just in time. At each roundabout, I would ask "I assume I go straight over here?" John would answer the question and then follow it up with a long stream of additional information. I paid attention to the next 'to do' on the list and tuned the rest out so as not to muddy the waters of my understanding.

For me the interesting thing is that we were both working from the same map. I'm not sure how practical this is for people who work with a pre-established national curriculum and 'achievement' targets to meet. But in a corporate learning environment, the analogy follows more readily.

Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome...

John Romeis to the blogosphere.

John is an IT/logistics professional who has been experimenting with things like uBuntu and the like at home and muttering about his frustrations with them. I have said more than once that he should blog about it. I firmly believe that there are people out there who (a) would be interested in his observations and (b) would be able to make suggestions to overcome some of the frustrations he has experienced.

Please will the more technically minded among you drop by and encourage him. This is a very bold step for a man unaccustomed to putting himself in the public eye.

Friday smile

Ever had one of those moments where you're thought, "Rats! I wish I had my camera with me"?

I had one today. Mind you, since I was driving at the time, having my camera with me wouldn't really have provided me with a solution!

So, without benefit of pictures, let me try to describe the scene for you to start your Friday off with the same smile I did.

As I was driving in to work very early this morning, I saw a few things that I don't normally get to see an hour later when the rhythm of the day has stepped up. One of these was the following sight.

Two old dears were out for a brisk morning walk. Not quite power walking, but certainly not strolling, either. There were kitted out in matching tracksuits, baseball style caps and trainers. The lady on the left was walking determinedly with her head down. The lady on the right was talking nineteen to the dozen, with all sorts of accompanying hand gestures.

Then I noticed their caps. Neatly stitched across the front of the cap on the left was the word "Walkie" while the cap on the right said "Talkie".

I kid you not.

I 'bout split my face grinnin' at them.

They didn't notice.

Blocking and unblocking

A few things have happened that have got me thinking about access control. First off, Jeff Utecht reports how he is going to have to unlearn the habit of skipping sites that are blocked in China, now that he is no longer based there.

Then, yesterday, as I was travelling by train, I got into a conversation with two total strangers. One of them had a daughter who had been studying Islam in religious education at primary school this term past. The kids were making a collage of images to represent the faith, so they all hit Google Images (no warnings about the unauthorised use of copyright material, evidently). On the very first page was the image of a woman being beheaded and a child having his arm driven over by a truck. The kids were traumatised. The teacher was mortified. The parents were incensed.

Apparently, it transpired that the controls are set county wide by the local authorities and someone had reduced the security levels on the netminding software. This sounds very fishy to me, and I wonder if the truth is (a) that no-one at the school knew how to operate the netminder software, and had assumed it was handled elsewhere or (b) that one of the older kids in the school had figured out how to reset things in order to gain access to stuff that was off-limits.

The reaction was that the school immediately shut down all access to the internet. Sledgehammer. Nut.

The third incident also happened yesterday. For the period of the school holidays, we have subscribed to a television service that provides sport coverage and movies for our boys to watch while if they fancy doing so while we're at work. If they try to watch a movie with a certificate of 12 or above, the system asks for a pin number. We're actually quite happy for our kids to watch movies with a 15 certificate, so we looked for a way to increase this age limit.

There isn't one.

So we phoned the service provider and asked how it can be done. Apparently, the only option available to us is to give them the pin number, which automatically also empowers them to buy stuff off the selly telly channels and to watch movies of any sort at all, including hard porn, should it happen to be included in the provision of the service. Obviously the underlying assumption is that there will always be an adult present to enter the pin code. When kids are in their teens, this is increasingly unlikely. When my husband pointed this out to the woman who was assisting him, she said "Ooh. I hadn't thought of that." It transpired that she had given her own son her pin number so that he could watch movies while she was at work, and it hadn't occurred to her that he might be watching all sorts of unsuitable material.

I am not in favour of abdicating our responsibility as adults in respect of the children in our house may or may not see. But I need more control myself over the settings available to me. I don't want to have to go the route of the blanket ban, but it seems there are few alternatives in some cases.

Either it matters or it doesn't

Wendy and I often express similar frustrations in respect of the development of learning resources. One of our shared frustrations is the lack of engagement of stakeholders and SMEs. There is often the perception on the part of the client that they should be able to say "We want an elearning about health and safety in the workplace" and we will go away for a few days, only to return with an all-singing, all-dancing piece of elearning that covers exactly what they wanted to cover and includes all sorts of sexy graphics and clever interactions.

I was thinking about that (again) today as I was describing to my boss what drew me to this job in the first place.

In my previous job, we had engaged an international organisation to develop a new core system for us. With hindsight, I realise that great care was taken to ensure that the system would facilitate the business processes, which I don't think I appreciated at the time as the right order for cart and horse. Based on a thorough business analysis, a series of use cases was drawn up. The development company then allocated to us three analysts, who each took a team of us to a wonderfully creative space full of beanbags, movable whiteboards, toys, stressballs, etc. to flesh out the requirements behind each use case. As I sat there, having the time of my life, I watched the analyst at work, capturing the creative output of my group on the whiteboard. She would then turn it over to the techies who would write the code and make it happen. And I said to myself, "That's the job I want. I want to do what she's doing, only in respect of learning solutions rather than IT solutions."

In a way, I have that job. A large part of my job is spent in analysis and consultation. Capturing people's creativity and turning it into something workable. But at the same time, I still long for that job. I long for that creative space, where mobile phones are switched off, the 'do not disturb' sign is hung out and everyone is working together towards a common goal that is going make a huge difference to the business.

When we were busy with the analysis phase of the software development project, the business allowed us anyone we wanted. They were spending a LOT of money on this, and they wanted it done right. So the groups who sat in those creative spaces included directors, senior fee-earners, junior fee-earners, admin staff, back-office staff. All levels, all salary bands.

The same applied when it came to the UAT stage, which I led. I could ask for help from whomever I wanted. I could have on my UAT team whoever I chose from within the business. I had one person solely dedicated to writing test cases. We developed a sophisticated capture document and escalation process for faults. I had 3 weeks and practically unlimited personnel. During the course of that period, even the person Wendy would call the Main Muck dropped in to see how things were going. To stick with Wendy's terminology, several of the Associate Mucks were on my test team. As it turned out, the UAT did its job, because it identified a fundamental fault in the system which resulted in the whole thing being shelved... but that's not the point.

The point is the investment of human resources into the project. The senior personnel were not simply paying lip service to the importance of this undertaking to the business going forward. They were putting their money where their mouths were by committing fee-earning staff to a function that took them away from their fee-earning activities for as long as they were needed. They meant it when they said that the implementation of a sub-standard system would result in the failure of the business, and they were prepared to go to great lengths to ensure that this didn't happen.

So when they say the same things of the management development programme they have asked me to develop, but getting access to SMEs and stakeholders is like pulling teeth, well then I have a hard time believing them. When words and actions are mismatched, the true message is in the actions.

Wouldn't you say?

Keeping the dream alive

Today, thanks to this pointer from Stephen Downes I found myself watching Randy Pausch's 'last lecture' on YouTube. I found it enormously motivating as he talked about realising childhood dreams.

Which makes today's contribution from my Calvin & Hobbes feed all the more apt.


Quite apart from the relevance of the story line in this cartoon, I love the fact that Hobbes just happens to be a tiger... and a stuffed one at that. I strongly recommend that you watch the lecture, but, just in case you don't have time, let me explain:

• Randy makes an oft quoted assertion: "You just have to decide if you're a Tigger or an Eeyore. I think I'm clear where I stand on the great Tigger-Eeyore debate. Never lose the childlike wonder. It's just too important. It's what drives us." Now Hobbes and Tigger are very different in character - Hobbes is far more cynical after 6 years as Calvin's constant companion. In fact it is Calvin who is the more Tigger-like of the two. Nevertheless.
  
• Also, Randy had a love for winning stuffed animals at fairs - he built up quite a collection over the years.

Unlike Randy, I didn't have a very happy childhood, and I can't remember ever having had any ambitions. I'm not sure if those two facts are related. My life seemed to be a permanent state of 'now' - I couldn't picture myself as an adult. During a conversation with a friend when I was around 8 or 9 years old, I calculated how old I would be when the magical year 2000 came around and expressed disappointment that I would be so old as not to be able to realise how significant it was!

But before you take out your violin... I found the now fascinating. I still do. There is just so much in every single moment. I still don't do much long term dreaming or planning and seem to sorta kinda fall into a lot of things that seem like a good idea at the time. In this, I completely relate to Tigger.

However, it remains my determined ambition to encourage my sons to dream. To see a future with themselves in it. And my greatest longing is to live a life that makes a difference - to find a way to use such skills as I have in service of those who need them.

Does that sound twee? Tough! It is what it is.

Entitlement and the impostor syndrome

Responses to my post yesterday have got me thinking about what Artichoke tells me is called Impostor Syndrome (BTW Artichoke's is one of the few pseudonymous blogs still in my reading list).

So let's look at this for a moment.

Until recently, my drive to work every morning took me past a private high school. In spite of the head teacher's protestations to the contrary ("our student body represents wide socio-economic diversity"), the student body is drawn largely from the haves and have yachts. I am fairly confident of this, because I made enquiries there when looking for schools for my own sons, and I know what it costs. There is a pedestrian crossing (with traffic lights) across one section of the road, and an elevated pedestrian bridge across another, so that the boys can cross in safety. Nevertheless, many of the boys choose to ignore both these provisions and cross the road in between the heavy traffic. Many is the time I have had to slam on anchors to avoid a tragedy. The boys themselves make no effort to look before crossing - they simply step out. They make no acknowledgement of those who have had to stop for them. They seldom bother even to look in the direction of the motorist. On one occasion, when it had been a little too close for comfort, I hit my hooter. The child in question laughed at me. There is no aggression, no middle finger, no "Yeah, what of it?" defiance. Simply what appears to be an assumption of entitlement.

I wonder if that doesn't come with the territory of being privileged. Almost all these kids are male (they only have girls in the post-16 section of the school). Most of them are white. With the exception of those on scholarships, they are from wealthy homes.

The comments on yesterday's post seem to indicate that the being male bit is no defence against impostor syndrome (although a handful of comments hardly constitutes a valid sample), although there seems to have been a fair amount of research that indicates that it is more prevalent among women.

I have a view that socio-economic conditioning might also play a role. If you have been raised to 'know your place'. If your parents, grandparents, etc. were manual labourers, you might grow up with the intrinsic and extrinsic expectation that you, too, will work with your hands, rather than your head. I wonder, for example, if those on scholarships at the school I waffled on about earlier don't often experience this sense of impostor-ship. Even your own parents might be somewhat put out if you get 'ideas above your station'. My first brother-in-law (ex-brother-in-law? brother-out-law?) was the sixth of eight children... and the first to want to finish high school. His mother wouldn't hear of it. All his siblings had left at 16 and gone to the railways to get a trade. He was not to think he was any better than they were. He should go and serve his apprenticeship and get a railway house like the rest of them! My sister was never approved of by the other wives, because she had 'airs and graces'. Actually, my sister is a pretty down to earth person without a single air or grace, but I suspect her comparitively high level of erudition made them uncomfortable. They were very 'I told you so' when the marriage failed, and rather relieved to see the back of her.

I wonder whether there might not even be an ethnic/cultural factor in societies where prejudices exist (I guess that might well be everywhere!). I was marginally involved in the establishment of an affirmative action programme within a company in Cape Town in the early 90's. It was an exciting time in South Africa, and it was a wonderful challenge to seek out the diamonds in the rough among the previously disadvantaged communities and offer them development opportunities previously witheld from them. Watching a person blossom as they see their horizons expand... well, can there be anything more rewarding? Of course, where people from these groups were promoted to supervisory and management positions, there were all sorts of hurdles to overcome. Not only were the employees unaccustomed to reporting to, say, a black woman, but the new supervisor/manager had to be sympathetically supported to overcome what I now recognise as impostor syndrome. Sadly, this find-and-develop approach was seen as being too slow. There were not enough quick wins. So a window-dressing approach was adopted, and people were appointed left and right on the basis of gender and skin colour... which was a tactic that had been applied before, only this time it was a different gender and a different skin colour than before. The transformation was fast and largely unsupported, which meant that Impostor Syndrome became like the elephant in the corner that everybody carefully avoids mentioning.

If you hear something said often enough from early enough, you begin to believe that it's true. Similarly, if you never hear something said at all, you are likely to assume that it does not apply to you. It's why so many parenting books advocate that we do not tell our children "you are naughty"/"you stupid boy" but rather, "that was a naughty/stupid thing to do".

So I reckon that Impostor Syndrome might be the outworking of all our stereotyping, and shaking off the conditioning of a lifetime that tells you you are unworthy... well, I guess that might take another lifetime. Or perhaps an epiphany like Janet seems to have had (see her comment on my post yesterday).

As to why it should be so prevalent among 'gifted' people... well, that's a mystery to me! Perhaps I'll understand it better when I've read the books jammasterjay recommended.

Faking it

Edit: Apologies to Clarita, who should have been acknowledged for the photo used in this post.

During an exchange of emails with my MA programme course leader today, I had a proper, fullblown panic attack.

As you will know if you've been reading this blog for a while, I failed an assignment earlier this year. All my other assignments had been assessed as being of merit or distinction standard. This was the one I felt most confident about going in and I was utterly certain it would net me another distinction grade. The impact of that fail extended far beyond just the course and I have yet to get back on track.

My course leader was making enquiries about my progress and the exchange of emails forced me to look into the abyss.

I had to acknowledge that I felt humiliated. Unmasked as a fraud. Exposed as an imposter masquerading as a member of the intelligentsia.

To my surprise, I was informed that this is very common among female academics, this sense of being a fake, and this terror of being unmasked as such. Apparently this has been researched, although she did not reference her assertion (tut, tut).

Of course, I'm not really an academic - I'm the token corporate anomaly in the cohort, but the principle probably still applies. It's not a constant, though. I am not afraid to challenge a client's perceptions and I relish informed debate with other learning professionals (as long as it doesn't get ugly... then you won't see me for dust). In those situations, I ooze confidence.

So I'm curious. Do the other women out there secretly feel that they're faking it and fear discovery, or is that idea past it's sell-by date? And, come to that, do men actually feel the same deep down and just adopt a more pragmatic approach to that feeling?

"Well, they just must" is not a strategy

This post had previously been deleted at the insistence of my manager who then promptly subjected me to a constructive dismissal anyway. Thanks to Stephen Downes, I have recovered the original content, which follows. Unfortunately, I am not able to reinstate the comments, which I was also forced to delete.

How often have I heard "Well they just must" as the strategy for how take up of a learning initiative is going to be handled?

A client requisitioned a learning solution for a specific change initiative. They planned to roll it out to the most senior members of staff first and then cascade it downwards, so that the senior managers could provide support to their reports and so on down the line. I pointed out one slight problem: the most notorious group for poor take up of learning interventions (solutions/resources/call them what you will) is senior management. I gave the following example:

I recently delivered a learning resource to a client. The MD was the sponsor. He spent a fair amount of his organisation's money on the resource and spoke authoritatively about it at stakeholder meetings - expounding on how the material was to be made mandatory for all staff. What if people didn't want to use the resource? "Well, they just must." What he didn't seem to appreciate was that, as the 'editing teacher' on the LCMS during the various iterations, I had a bird's eye view of who had done what. He had not even enrolled. In fact, he had not even registered on the LMS! So he had not laid eyes on the product he was buying and making mandatory.

In spite of this anecdote, what was the response to my observation about senior management's tendency to excuse themselves from training interventions? "We'll make it mandatory." And how will we deal with it when the most senior managers simply opt not to comply with the mandate? You guessed it: "Well, they just must."

Ri-ight. Good luck with that.

Can't read, can't write

The first episode of the TV series Can't Read, Can't Write was aired on the BBC tonight. It should be compulsory viewing for every teacher.

My brain is fizzing.

The utter inadequacy of the adult literacy programme is astonishing... and scandalous! Just the way that prospective learners have to enrol on the programme is in itself a barrier (which I learned from a radio interview with Phil Beadle earlier this week, rather than from the TV series).

I think what struck me most and left me gasping with disbelief was the reaction of a woman who heads up one of these programmes when Phil Beadle (what an apt name) found fault with the system and the materials. She didn't like his maverick resistance to and criticism of the curriculum. She said repeatedly that her teachers followed the government curriculum which bore results. Her idea of results? The students passed the exam at the end, "because that's what it's all about, isn't it?"

No, it flipping isn't. Who puts people like this in charge of learning programmes?

It's all about releasing these people from the prison of adult illiteracy in a world which does not cater to them. It's about empowering them.

How do you catch a bus if you can't read a timetable? How do you open a bank account if you can't fill in a form? How do you prepare even a heat-and-eat meal if you can't read the instructions? How do you learn to drive if you can't read the roadsigns and master the highway code?

Phil was dismayed and discouraged every time he looked at the curriculum and spoke to its proponents. But, when he spoke to the learners, he was ignited and the light went on in his eyes. My kind of teacher. A true wild-eyed zealot.

Some of the people had become ingenious at hiding their disability (because disability it is). One woman in particular seemed incapable of attaching sounds to written letters. She was a bright, cultured woman who wanted to read Hemingway.

She tried to run her fingers over the letters and could only make sense of them if she could feel their shapes. Not much help with current printing technologies. You could tell her that this was the letter T, and she would repeat that. She could tell you all sorts of words that contained that sound. She could recite Shakespeare sonnets. But show her the T again and she had no idea what it was. There just seemed to be a wire in her brain that wasn't connected the same way as everyone else's was. I found myself shouting at the TV, "Teach her braille!" It didn't matter that she wasn't blind - she might as well have been for all the sense she could make of the squiggles on the page.

Phil didn't teach her braille, and he did have her reading her first words (albeit slowly) within 3 weeks. I still think braille would have been a good starting point for her, but the rest of the series will reveal whether or not I am right.

If there is any way you can get your hands on this series, please, please watch it. It will stir you, infuriate you, inspire you. It will remind you how 'unflat' this world really is - even in our educated societies.

Informal singing-as-learning

Dave Warlick is delivering a keynote at the Pennsylvania Music Educators' Association annual conference. His tweets on the subject got me thinking. Apparently the music teachers were all singing at one point, and Dave (who implies that he is not very musical - I have no idea how true that is) was somewhat daunted at the thought of having to follow that!

I have been a member of various choirs and bands all my life, and there have been numerous situations when I have been one of many people who have 'jammed' in one way or another. On the train with the school choir on the way to a television audition. In someone's lounge at a barbecue. In someone else's lounge at a church worship team meeting. In a coach on the way back from a performance of Fiddler on the Roof in another town.

Hearing a whole bunch of people singing in unison is stirring enough. But when it's a bunch of musicians, each with a trained ear... well, it fair makes the hair stand up on the back of your neck.

What happens is that the musicians don't all sing the same tune. Nor do they follow some canned path set by a piece of sheet music. They listen to one another and seek out a harmony. What my neighbour is doing influences and informs what I do, but does not dictate to me.

In some parts of the world, this musicality is inculcated almost subliminally. Growing up in South Africa, I would hear the singing of groups of labourers working on the roads. Many of them would have been illiterate and unschooled. Yet they understood music. With no perception of the complexity of what they were achieving, they would sing in counterpoint and harmony, following musical patterns unique to that part of the world. I imagine that a child growing up in a Welsh mining town probably also grew up taking in music with their mother's milk (hence the superior quality of the singing from the Welsh supporters at any rugby match!).

In southern Africa, not only do they sing spontaneous tunes, they sing spontaneous words, too. Someone will sing a single phrase over and over. Others will pick up on it and start to weave around the first person, creating a tapestry of sound, unique to the moment. Not to be recorded or remembered - just something that seems to suit the here and now.

No-one taught them. No-one sat them down and said, "Today we are going to study fugues. Somebody give me an A." They just sang. They sang and they encouraged participation.

So going back to my bunch of musicians who've been singing harmonies of their own devising on the coach. When they get where they're going, they pile out of the bus and take to the stage. There, they will follow the music exactly as it is written. They will watch the conductor like a hawk and do exactly as directed. They will apply to this formal, structured, rigid situation the same passion as they did to the ad hoc, make-it-up-as-you-go-along singing they did on the way over. They know the sounds of one another's voices. They know the feel of the soundwave vibrations when they get it just right.

They all know what to do. They have practised formally and informally. They have poured their hearts into both the formal and informal situations and they have held nothing back.

Sigh. Why can't learning in the office be more like that for more people?

GO GET A JOB!

I've been exploring career opportunities lately, and re-examining my options and future plans. It isn't easy, since I don't seem to fit into any of the pigeonholes recruitment agencies are looking to fill... and, bless them, a lot of recruitment types don't really understand the world of L&D enough to be able to cope with anything other than an exact fit. In this weird world of ours, how many exact fits are there? Not a lot!

Anyhoo, I was walking in town today and passed a young beggar sitting on the pavement. At the same time, an unkempt man wearing a denim version of a monk's cossack was walking by. He turned on the young man and, from a distance of several metres, in front of a large number of people, shouted (and I mean shouted) at him "With all due respect. You are young. You look healthy. With all due respect. Go get yourself a job instead of sitting there begging. With all due respect."

The poor youngster went red to the roots of his hair, and opened his mouth to defend himself, but the 'friar' was striding away, having set the world to rights. The lad did mutter something like "I've tried..." just in case any of the passersby thought the less of him following the outburst.

I suspect that the self-styled friar was suffering from some form of mental illness, so it would be unfair to run through the list of what was wrong with his approach. However, at least he had that as an excuse! What is the excuse of those of our profession who march into a room full of strangers, make no attempt to find out what they already know, what they need to know, what they plan to achieve once they know it; subject them to a barrage of unidirectional information dump; get them to fill in a happy sheet and expect them to either (a) go back to their jobs and do them better or (b) GO GET A JOB

I have been feeling increasingly like an eclectically shaped peg in a traditionally shaped hole, and for reasons both personal and professional (is there a difference?) feel the need to move on to other pastures. However, even armed with 20 years of experience and a postgrad education (as well as bucketloads of informal learning which matters little to the recruiters, sadly), I am finding it tough and soul destroying. Which meant my heart went out to the poor lad on the pavement today. Go get a job, indeed.

Watterson hits the nail on the head... again!

Oh boy do I know how this feels!

Sharing what we know

How many people can lay claim to having taught Stephen Downes something new? I have often wondered where he goes to learn new stuff. Then as I commented on this photo of his on Flickr last night, it occurred to me that this was the second time I had been able to provide him with a piece of information. It looked similar to the sort of thing my stepdad grows, so a little bit of rooting around provided a likely answer.

Oddly, the previous time was also to provide the name of a plant. This plant: I say oddly, because I am the most botanically ignorant member of my family (my parents are complete botanical and ornithological 'anoraks', as are all my aunts and uncles and most of my cousins). This one was dead easy, though, since the plant is one I grew up with and which abounds in South Africa and other hot climates.

The hibiscus (bottom picture) came to my attention when Stephen mentioned on his OLDaily blog that he had uploaded the photos from his trip to Southern Africa. Of course, a girl from southern Africa could be depended on to make a beeline for them! The aeonium (top picture) I found because Stephen linked to it on his Facebook status last night, saying that he wondered what it was. Not thinking for a moment that I might know, I followed the link out of idle curiosity... et voila!

Somehow the thought that someone as knowledgeable and highly regarded as Stephen can learn something (two somethings, mind!) from li'l ol' me puts things in perspective.

Social learning. Connectivism. The network. We all have something to give and something to gain. Some will give a lot and gain a lot, some will give a lot and gain less, others will give little and gain little, still others will give little and gain much.

But no-one is keeping score.

Cool, huh?

Photos by Stephen Downes can be seen, with many others on his Flickr photostream.

Just because I can...

I've decided to give this girl a plug here today. Her name is Laura James. She is 17 years old and she writes and performs her own music. Check out more of her stuff on YouTube and MySpace.

How can it be so beautiful?

Over at Neurophilosophy, there is an image of the protein that causes Alzheimer's. How dare something so devastating be so beautiful?

How clear cut is cause and effect?

One worrying consequence of the results-driven society in which we live is the perception that there must be a clear cut explanation for everything.

I was listening to a radio DJ a few days ago who was guffawing at the thought of some or other A-list celeb suffering from depression. He listed all the things the celeb should be grateful for (megamillions, looks, beautiful house, thousands of adoring fans, etc.) and asked, "What has she got to be depressed about?"

This indicates a complete lack of understanding about depression. Speaking from personal experience, I can tell you here and now that one doesn't get depressed 'about' something. You can be in the midst of the most positive circumstances imaginable get deeply depressed. On the other hand, you can be in the middle of a complete crisis, and cope just fine, even if you're prone to depression.

We live in a society that wants an explanation for everything: Why are you depressed? How can you be lonely? Why can't you understand this? Why aren't you getting As at school? How on earth did you manage to lose your way?

I was listening to Eric Weiner talking about his new book The Geography of Bliss today, and he described how the Thai culture doesn't feel the need for this. They also consider excessive thinking to be bad for you, and have an expression which translates as "Don't think so much" and another which translates as "Let it go". These are both traits I could stand to learn! I agonise over everything and I want that big pink bow: resolution/closure.

I am all in favour of teaching our kids that their decisions have consequences, and a proponent of letting them learn how to deal with the consequences of their choices (within reason) in a safe environment. However, perhaps we should consider whether we haven't taken this one a little too far.

The famous prayer comes to mind:

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change;
The courage to change the things I can;
And the wisdom to know the difference.

FINALLY - the connected academic comes to Karyn'r erratic learning journey

I read Grainne Conole's post with a smile a while back and (just for fun) decided to have a go at the quiz myself. Of course, it was blocked at the office... along with everything else that smacks of social 'not working'. But today, I am working from home, and decided to have a go. Since I'm not really an academic (although some people in my office would dispute that!) the questions aren't a perfect fit, but I took liberties and here you are (sadly the graphic isn't showing up as well as it does on Grainne's blog):

The connected academic Your Result: Connected academic You are the future! You've taken openness, connectedness and 2.0ness to heart. You are an asset to your organisation. I would be happy to be your Facebook friend.
Mildly connected academic
Unconnected academic
The connected academic

How 'bout you?

Keeping the children safe... but from what?

On Saturday, I saw the movie Hancock. It was an enjoyably stupid movie, offering a totally different take on the superhero.

What worried me, though, was the fact that it was classified as a 12A. For those outside of the UK, this means that anyone over the age of 12 can see the movie. Anyone under that age can see it too, as long as they are accompanied by an adult.

Some of the themes in the movie are rather unsuitable for a younger audience, and the language is pretty severe: there is a lot of name-calling which is mildly profane and a fair amount of swearing, including blasphemy and several instances of the infamous F-word. Just a few years ago, even one use of that word would have seen the movie slapped with a 15 certificate.

As we were leaving the movie, I commented on this. My 16-year old son said, "With all the health and safety regulations all over the place, isn't it weird that it's okay to expose your kids to that kind of swearing?" He had a very good point, which has been rolling around in my head ever since.

Teachers and parents alike are being increasingly disempowered in respect of the children in their care. In some instances they have become paralysed by fear of public opinion and official reprisal, and opt to let matters run their course rather than run the risk of stepping over that line. By the same token, teachers and parents are held increasingly accountable for the actions of those same children.

Many schools have replaced the traditional sports day with a non-competitive circuit event, so as not to have some of the children being made to feel like losers. But these same schools employ a system of issuing credits for good work, effort or behaviour and award prizes to those who garner the highest number of these in a year. Just as on the sports field, some of the kids feel they have tried really hard and not earned anywhere near as many credits as another child who appears not to have had to put in any special effort. Later, these same children will have to compete for places at universities. Then they will have to compete in an open job market with a pool of applicants from an increasingly wide geographical area.

If the bank accidentally sends your 11 year old son a cheque book. You are not allowed to phone and discuss this with them. They will only discuss the account with the account holder. I have first hand experience of this. But, let that child go off and write out a cheque for £2,500, and suddenly the bank will be very interested in talking to you about the little matter of recovering their money. Fortunately, I do not have first hand experience of this!

Nursery schools are being required to report instances of racist behaviour on the part of their little charges. This apparently includes a dislike for food which is unfamiliar to their young palates. One journalist offers an interesting take on the story. Prospective adoptive and foster parents are required not to attempt to inflict their cultural and spiritual values on any children they adopt/foster. And yet it's okay to take them to see movies with adultery/polyandry and profanity.

Family planning clinics can provide birth control to kids without notifying the parents. Girls can also have an abortion without their parents being informed of the situation (and yet parental consent is needed for a tonsillectomy). On the flip side, if a child regularly skips school, the parents are expected to know about it and to take action to remedy the situation or it will be them, rather than the child who is held accountable and punished.

Please note that I am not necessarily saying that any of the above are right or wrong, I am simply trying to illustrate the inconsistencies in the system.

Increasingly, adults are being disempowered in respect of the children in their care in whatever capacity. Children are protected from teachers, from parents, from dangerous equipment, from overzealous police officers, from potential hazards to their health. Almost, it seems, they are being protected from receiving any guidance or correction whatsoever, and being excused from accountability for their actions.

And, having survived all these mixed messages, when they grow up, how are these poor kids going to cope with suddenly being held accountable for not only their own actions, but for those of their children as well?

Just wondering...

What do you want them to DO?

I've just been having lunch with a colleague and the conversation, which was about the point of learning events (courses, elearning resources, etc.) was threatening to turn into a blogpost. However, before putting pen to paper, or finger to keyboard, I quickly read the remaining few posts in my aggregator and came across this from Tom Kuhlman. He has completely stolen my thunder! It makes me think of Cathy Moore's offering on action-based learning.... again.

I get so tired of being handed voluminous PowerPoint presentations (which should never have seen the light of day in the first instance) and being expected to miraculously repurpose them into engaging elearning resources. My other 'favourite' is when you are handed a 60 page training manual and you're asked to perform the same conjuring trick.

I like to start scoping out an elearning project for a work-based user audience with "What do you want the learner/user to be able to do?" Work-based learning is about improved performance. Changed behaviour. Increased efficiency. When the response is an indication of what the person needs to learn, I immediately want to know why. Why do they need to know this?

That's where we start.

Learning from failure

As you know, if you've been with me for a while, I'm a Calvin & Hobbes fan. Today's cartoon was one I had (surprisingly) not seen before.It reminds me of my first (and only) attempt to make a buttermilk lollipop. I bunged a knob of butter into half a glass of milk and left it in the fridge. My experiment was as successful as Calvin's.

Of course, Calvin being Calvin, I doubt that he will have the attention span or the inclination to find out why his experiment has failed, and to explore other means of achieving his goal. I certainly didn't at the time of the Butterscotch Lollipop Incident.

I have certainly had my fair share of failed culinary attempts since then - most of which have been eaten and enjoyed in spite of their 'failure' status. Almost all of them have been improved upon with the next attempt. I have learnt from those 'failures' and some of my dishes are now in great demand. (others have been relegated to the 'never to be repeated' pile).

There needs to be room for failure in our learning journey. Sadly, our results oriented society seems to have little tolerance for 'having a go'. Edison reputedly claimed to have found 1000 ways not to make a light bulb, although I have yet to find a reputable reference for this quote. Whether or not he said it, surely there must be space for a process of elimination? Considering all the 'uction' words associated with reasoning (adduction/abduction; reduction; induction; deduction) - are we really prepared to start putting lines through them until we are left with only one and everything else is considered 'unreasonable'... and which one would that be?

I have been partnered with a variety of people for group work during workshops of various sorts. My all time favourite has to be an other-worldly ballet teacher who couldn't give a fig for perceived wisdom. She started with a blank slate and tried all sorts of possible solutions on for size. I was all for saying, "No, forget that, we know x and y, so we can start our reasoning from here." She would look at me in a puzzled way and ask, "How do we know x and y?" which would cause me to wonder "How indeed!" We wound up with all sorts of interesting answers to the questions set - most of which I knew to be way off base but far more fun than anything I would have come up with. She flitted gaily and completely (to my narrow view) illogically from idea to idea like a cheerful butterfly, little caring whether she happened upon the correct answer - she was having fun. I quickly learned not to stomp the butterfly and instead took off after her like a child - just to see where she would go next.

Never has a lesson been more fun. But it was hard work to overcome my desire to be right and my impatience to get to the right answer in the shortest possible time!

Two perspectives of the flat world

This has been buzzing around in my head over the past few days threatening to blow a gasket in my brain. It relates to my oft voiced protests against claims of a flat world. I only wish I could draw! If there are any cartoonists out there who want to make a better job of it than I have done, please do (but please remember to link back here so I can admire the results).

The flat world, perspective 1:

The flat world, perspective 2:


'Nuff said?

Going off half-cocked

Tony Karrer has taken it into his head to replace this month's Big Question with a Big Stir. I sense an increasing frustration with our profession in the ranks of those who are 2.0 savvy, and it goes further and deeper than the issues Tony has raised.

By way of my contribution, I think I could do no better than to share some link love with Don Taylor for his recent article in Training Zone magazine, and with Mark Berthelemy for his response.

I touched on this same nerve recently, when I agreed to have one of my papers (which debunks learning styles) published on the learning pages of our company's intranet. Why is that so many learning professionals are quick to embrace a theory that generates neat graphics without first checking the underlying theory, and then to defend it to the hilt?

My husband has an excellent expression that he saves for such situations: "My mind's made up - don't confuse me with facts!"

Gender equality - who holds the cards?

To be honest, I'm beginning to think that no-one does. I wonder if they aren't on the floor under the table.

There is a great deal of evidence that women still don't earn the same as men in the UK. I reckon this is a fairly accurate view. For example, I am almost certain that I earn significantly less than the two men on my team who do the same job. There is an official course of action I could follow, but I presume that a very defensible explanation would be given that would not relate to gender at all. Sadly, I also know that the only other female member of the team (who has now left) earned roughly the same as I did at the time, so I am left mildly miffed by the issue, but not sufficiently convinced of the strength of my case to want to get embroiled in the whole grievance process.

Harriet Harman is trying to do something about this in the UK, but I don't think she has many people convinced - certainly not Janice Turner, at any rate!

Sadly, in the process of fighting for equality and an end to discrimination, sexual harassment in the workplace and all those related issues (and I maintain that they are related), I reckon some women do the 'cause' more harm than good.

When women demand special dispensation on the grounds of gender, does this constitute equality? I'm not sure that there are valid grounds for claiming that L&D for women should differ from that for men, but the claim is being made nonetheless (it may be necessary to subscribe to the publication for the link to work).

On a different tack, let's look at an extreme (but real) case.

Recently, a woman arrived at work wearing a very short skirt and no knickers. When one of the men in the office subtly indicated that it would be preferable if she wore underwear, she complained. Too afraid of venturing into the sexual harassment minefield, the company upheld her complaint. A few days later, she arrived at work wearing (ahem) 'cheeky' hot pants. No-one dared say a word. Surely this is similar to bullying in that it is abusing circumstances that give one an advantage?

Many men I know are left bewildered and disempowered by situations like this. They mutter that they can't simply take a day off work citing a vague malady known as "men's problems". They aren't allowed to comment on the appearance of their female colleagues, although no such embargo exists on women commenting on one another's appearance... or on that of the men. Sexist jokes are a no-no if women are being pilloried, but not if men are on the receiving end.

If they stand aside for a female colleague, they're sexist, if they don't, they're rude. Where is the dividing line between good manners and sexism? And how broad is the good manners band that fits so perilously between sexism and rudeness?

Let's imagine this scenario: Ms No-Knickers (who really exists, although not in my organisation) discovers she earns less than a male colleague. She goes to her line manager (who is male) to insist on an increase. If he says no, she takes action on the grounds of gender discrimination. If he says yes, her male colleagues will regale one another of the reasons that (coincidentally male) colleague was on a higher pay grade. They will become even more convinced that women hold all the cards these days and that all a woman has to do to succeed is flash the boss. So, while the short term gain for the equality cause is undermined by long term damage in the form of an increasingly mutinous male workforce.

My own view is that I have no desire to see men disadvantaged in any way. I would feel throughly patronised if I were to be offered a job over a male applicant just because of my gender. If I can't hack it on a level playing field, I can't hack it at all.

But when I do get the job, do me this courtey: pay me on the basis of the work I do, not on the basis of the body parts I bring with me to the office.

In some ways, I hope Harriet Harman succeeds, in others I wonder if legislative intervention is the way forward. Enforced compliance does not win hearts and minds. If anything, I suspect the converse to be true!

Sigh. We have a long road ahead through the minefield.