Giving Students Roots and Wings
by Katharine Childs
Introduction
I am an adult educator with over thirty years of
experience in the teaching profession. For the past twenty years I have
been a Language
Arts teacher and an academic mentor working with adults
enrolled in a full-time academic high school program in the province of Quebec.
Our
student population could best be described as marginalized and generally
disaffected; many happen to be young adults from sixteen to nineteen
years of age who have
previously been unsuccessful in school. A growing number of students
have few academic skills; many of them cannot
read well and see no reason to improve their skills. For the majority of
these people, our school is their last chance at getting a high
school
diploma – and perhaps qualifying for a job or further training.
The Changing Landscape of Adult Education
Over the past seven or eight years, the
demographics have drastically changed in adult
education in Quebec, causing our adult education
centre to experience a number of significant and
dramatic changes in its learning culture and in the
way that we work with the adults who study with
us. The fact that much of our student population is
now between the ages of sixteen and nineteen years
old has had profound ramifications on our entire
environment – changes which have necessitated
different approaches to teaching and learning in
the centre.
Although many of these younger students come to
us with a large number of their required courses
completed, a growing percentage of them require an
additional three or more years of full-time study to
accomplish their stated goal of completing their high
school education. Many of them lack positive self-images, demonstrating limited curiosity. They have
difficulty in reading and writing, in managing their
time, in goal-setting and in persevering at their work.
These students are passive and highly dependent
upon their teachers. For many, progress is slow, and
academic success almost non-existent.
Conventional (‘prescriptive’) academic courses –
even those designed especially for adults – have not
been able to address these issues. To counterbalance this, I have tried to teach by building upon students’
individual successes and utilizing their embodied
knowledge in an effort to enhance learning that is
individually more meaningful and responsive.
The problem: Secondary III English
I first wondered about certain attitudes towards
learning when I noticed that students placed in our
English Secondary Level III course seemed to be
largely unsuccessful. Those who did pass did so with
low grades and only after long periods of time. Even
worse – they did it with little, if any, enthusiasm.
Many students dropped out after completing one
section of the course. Some simply left, claiming the
class was too large, the work too hard or that they
had better things to do with their time. Others stayed,
sporadically attending and rarely handing in work –
seemingly defeated by the class itself. Something was
definitely wrong.
School records provided data that convinced me
that there were problems with this course. Most of the
young adults transferring directly into our system
from the local high school were placed into this
program because of previously completed coursework.
Their reading and writing skills were quite poor, but
most had already attended and passed the Secondary
II Language Arts course. This meant that the majority
of the Secondary III class members were between the
ages of sixteen and eighteen,
the youngest adults in the
building. There was a high
concentration of young
males in this course (over
69 per cent – or sixteen of
twenty-three students). After
testing, an equally high percentage of these students seemed to be kinesthetic
and visual learners – right-brained individuals
(MacDonald 2001).
Most students took more than five times as long to
complete this course than any other course given in
our centre – an average total of 800 hours to complete
a 150-hour course. Only 16 per cent – four students
out of twenty-three – completed the course at all
(Tannahill 2001).
Faced with hard evidence that the existing course
was problematic, I probed my most deeply held
beliefs about the purpose of education – formal or
otherwise – and critically examined the particular
place of literacy and cur riculum within that larger
purpose. I asked myself leading questions: “Are skills,
knowledge and literacy inextricably bound together – and how so?”, “What kind of knowledge/skills will my
students need to get jobs or continue their training?” and “What types of knowledge best enable us to care for
ourselves, one another and the world that surrounds us?”
Faced with hard evidence that the existing course was problematic,
I
probed my most deeply held beliefs about the purpose of education.
|
Fig. V |
It occurred to me that the tendency many of us
have to identify education exclusively with reading
and writing has created a limiting imbalance in most
of our schools: the majority of the adult students that
I see regularly suffer from this imbalance.
I wanted to find different tools that would allow my
learners to become confident and successful. In order
for them to be able to express themselves in different
ways, I felt my students needed tools that were more
flexible/less confining than the traditional ones,
that would enable them to
express what they apparently
were incapable of conveying
in conventional language –
or in conventional ways.
The research question
|
Fig. VI |
I wanted to create the kind of classroom
atmosphere that would be responsive to and that
would embrace the gifts and talents of every person
while fostering personal and academic growth.
This led to the larger question: “What
do I consider
and accept as ‘literacy’ and ‘learning’ – and what does
that entail in terms of personal (and professional) growth
for both me and my students?”
Working from the premise that when one
discovers and experiences knowledge and new
meanings through interactions between the Self and
the world, the whole self – body, mind, and heart –
is affected, I instinctively turned to the arts as a
possible way of providing opportunities for connection, and for listening
and learning from each
other and ourselves.
As a teacher-researcher interested in self-study and
reflective practice, I have continually employed a
number of arts-based techniques and various artistic
representations in my own research, and am familiar
with educational research in this field. Much of what
I believe about art and the creative process is summed
up by Rhoda Kellogg’s statement that art is “a visual
necessity for achieving mental stability.” A vast
potential for personal discovery exists when we
ground our learning in the artistic experience and
process – when we learn to trust in the creative
process itself and embrace the relationships with the
products that emerge. This is borne out by a number
of influential researchers who see art as literacy – a
reading and writing of texts – and as a vehicle for
personal causation and growth (Greene 2001, 1995,
1978; Eisner 1991; McNiff 1998a, 1998b).
This is not easy for anyone who has
been schooled in a traditional system where there is a marked
disregard for anything that cannot be directly and
immediately perceived – where art is
frequently regarded as ‘frivolous’ and
unnecessary to a solid education. It is
even more difficult for students who
are different, who have not been
successful in school but wish to attain
an education. I was all the more
determined to offer classes of this nature.
In addition, I realized that
this issue of literacy was closely aligned with my students’ self-esteem,
with their valuation and validation within the larger
educational system. As a teacher, I also realized that
this issue struck close to home: if I believed in the
principles of self-directed lifelong learning, I would
need to become truly more responsive to all the
adults I work with. I came to the conclusion that
helping my learners to acquire the roots of belonging and
‘mattering’, and the
wings of individual potential and
freedom should be at the centre of everything
that I do as an educator. If employing slightly
different approaches and techniques could help my
students learn the information processing skills they
needed to become more successful with certain types
of printed material, I was willing to try them.
Art, our class discovered, meant taking action
|
Fig. I |
I had just put together a tentative outline of the
new course when one of my most
‘resistant’ students – a personable and
bright man who I shall call Jon – began
to work on improving his reading and
writing using the creative arts and
these arts-based techniques. What I
learned from working with him made
me realize the tremendous power and promise that
working with art and various types of media
possesses for significant learning. I found it to be a
wonderful tool that promoted self-awareness and selfex
pression – two of the ingredients that aid self-confidence
and lead to personal success/personal
causation. I also discovered that this method was an
effective way to get disaffected secondary students to
‘read’ and ‘write’ different texts.
Since Jon, there have been many other students
who
have completed these courses, many of them following
his lead by using narrative pieces, coupling them with
poetry and image texts as a way of articulating their
knowledge and helping others to connect to their
experiences. The high quality of the work that these
students have produced and the soundness of their
learning has convinced me that allowing students the
freedom and the responsibility to determine what and
how they learn is worth ‘bending the rules’, of trying
something new. Because of this, our new three - part
Secondary III program with its initial focus on using
arts-based techniques as a form of literacy is now firmly
established in our adult education centre.