MOTIVATION

This week’s topic in Educational Psychology centers around the concept of motivation and how it relates to teaching and learning. What motivates those of us who want to teach has been something we’ve already discussed extensively this semester. Clearly, we, meaning my fellow education major/minors and myself, are all passionate about learning and about our specific subject area. We also love working with people, particularly kids. Our motivation is not really the issue that needs addressing. Rather, we need to learn how to motivate our future students.

In trying to understand how I will possibly motivate my own students someday, I’ve been reflecting upon what exactly has served as motivation for me in the past. It’s hard to admit, but I’ve found that many previous goals and motivating factors in my life have been, well, not so positive. In our textbook’s chapter about motivation, the distinction is made between mastery goals and performance goals. Mastery goals refer to a more intrinsic motivation - the desire to complete a task, improve abilities, and learn, despite “awkward appearances” or initial failure. Performance goals, on the other hand, are more along the lines of extrinsic motivation; these goals are driven by the need to be recognized by others or to receive some sort of reward. Of course, we all want our students, and ourselves, to be motivated intrinsically and to aim for mastery goals; it seems more noble and dignified, less egotistical or narcissistic. Furthermore, our textbook explains that students who set mastery goals actually utilize better cognitive strategies, ask for help when needed, have stronger study skills, and are more confident in handling academic tasks. So I’d like to say that the majority of the decisions I made and accomplishments I attained throughout my years in school were entirely due to “mastery goals,” inspired by intrinsic motivation. However, I will be honest and say that performance goals in fact played a large role in influencing my actions and behaviors as well.

I was a straight-A student throughout middle and high school, a trait that has remained true in my collegiate career as well. But I wonder if these high grades were the only factors that influenced my study habits and work ethic. Was it the aspiration to receive a perfect score that compelled me to study for hours and hours before each and every Spanish test? Did I complete all those extra-credit projects for Chemistry only because I needed to secure an A? Do I still stay up until the early hours of the morning revising my research papers for Music History because I wouldn’t be able to handle earning a B, a grade deemed only “above average”? In truth, the answer is a bit complicated. Although I admit (somewhat shamefully) that percentages, test scores, and grades have played an influential role in motivating me to excel in my school work, there are other factors as well. First and foremost, I sincerely enjoy learning, which allows me to approach most school work with less anxiety or dread than most. Also, school, especially the subjects of English, social studies, and music, have always been fairly easy for me. This relates to the idea of self-efficacy: because I believe I can succeed, and/or finish whichever task it may be, I tend to have higher levels of motivation (and also persistence). What concerns me, however, is the fact that in my classroom someday, I will not be faced with teaching 25 miniature Haleys, who are either motivated extrinsically by grades, or intrinsically by personal yearning for learning (cute - that rhymes!), or by some combination of both. Simply put, in order to effectively and positively motivate my students, I might have to teach them how to enjoy learning. Easier said than done! Still, motivation is not a skill like adding fractions or playing the recorder. To me, it seems unquantifiable, and motivation will certainly differ from child to child. I know I should make lessons appealing to students and relevant to their lives; I also need to show them I value them and genuinely care. Yet currently, I still remain somewhat worried about my own abilities as a motivator.

Well this quite long already (again!) and so I think I will wait to further address my concerns about motivation sometime in the future. Perhaps I will just have to rely on my undeniable charm and charisma to motivate my students…ok, I’m kidding. In all seriousness, however, I am quite glad I have a few years of college left to figure out how to create an inspirational classroom environment and how to truly motivate students to learn.

Children of Darkness and Light

This week I attended a lecture titled, “Islam and Christian Muslim Dialogue: Theological and Political Challenge and Opportunity“ given by Dr. Charles Ahjad-Ali, Martin Luther King Jr. Professor at Luther Seminary. Sounds like pretty heavy stuff, huh? That’s what I was thinking when I heard the lecture’s title and when I learned Dr. Charles Ahjad-Ali’s title, too. It may seem strange that I chose to attend this lecture as part of the requirement for this Educational Psychology class. After all, the realms of religion and politics are viewed as dangerous, controversial areas that do not belong in public education. As it turned out, this rather informal lecture was less political and more theological/historical, and in all honesty, not at all related to education or educational psychology. Still, I was struck by a few of the main ideas Dr. Ahjad-Ali mentioned, and in reflecting further upon them, I think I might have found a few important connections to education psychology.

Dr. Ahjad-Ali’s lecture focused on the intimate yet volatile relationship between Christianity and Islam, and the central question that seemed to shape most of his lecture was “How do we live together as Muslims and Christians?” He made the point that in general, the Christian perception of Islam is an “us against them” mentality, or the idea that “if you’re not with us, you’re against us.” He also defined this frame of mind in another way; he stated that some Christians seem to think: “we are children of the light, while they are children of darkness” [‘they’ meaning Muslims and other non-Christians]. This poignantly expressed idea especially caught my attention as something potentially applicable to education. I think it can be incredibly easy at times for teachers to let their own biases or personal prejudices into the classroom. I’d like to think this never occurs on purpose, and in reality, I’m sure most incidences of intolerance or partiality on the part of the teacher are accidental. Nevertheless, the idea of “us” versus “them” does exist in the world of education. There are defined roles and groups in the classroom, all juxtaposed against one another: the teacher versus the students, the brainiac versus the learning disabled, the economically advantaged versus the disadvantaged, the class-clown versus the social outcast, and the list continues. As a teacher, I believe it must be difficult at times to avoid classifying or pigeonholing students, or even dismissing them altogether as not worth the extra effort. Once children have been labeled as naughty, misbehavers, or as bad kids, it becomes even more problematic and challenging to truly reach them. It is these perceived “children of darkness,” the children who have been branded as outsiders, who really need a teacher to struggle with and for them, to actually care and value them as students and as people. Ideally, boundaries between students in the classroom, as dictated by physical appearance, mental ability, cultural background, religious preference, or socio-economic status, do not exist; there is no “us versus them” or “children of light” as opposed to “children of darkness.” Indeed, in this ideal setting, both students and teachers refuse to categorize one another and instead, work to sincerely understand and appreciate the ideas, efforts, and contributions of all.

Well, there is so much more I could say on the above topic. However, this entry is long enough already, so I’ll try to use the words of Dr. Ahjad-Ali to summarize what I’ve been thinking. The following is a core component to Dr. Ahjad-Ali’s personal philosophy: “We cannot be passive in the face of injustice.” What a profound concept. I feel strongly that this belief can and should be applied by teachers everywhere to ensure that their classrooms are safe, thriving environments where all children can reach their full potential.

School Boards: Are They Really as Boring as I Have Always Assumed??

As part of our weekly seminar this week, our Educational Psychology class invited two members of the local school board to come discuss their roles in these positions. To be perfectly honest, I probably could not have thought of a less interesting education-related topic. Obviously I recognize that school boards wield significant power in the realm of public education, yet what exactly that power entails, I could not have begun to explain before reflecting upon Monday night’s seminar. To say that what these two particular board members revealed was “eye-opening” or “astounding” would be a stretch. However, I will concede that the discussion was educational as we received informative answers about of the inner-workings of a public school board.

During the discussion, I was specifically struck by the definition of a school board’s role provided by our guests at the beginning of the seminar. Apparently, the role of a school board is twofold: one, to set district-wide policy, and two, to hire a puppet, (ahem! Did I just say that?) I mean, a superintendent whose job is to follow and enforce policy. At the time, I again found myself thinking, how boring! For me, at least, the term policy conjures images of piles of paperwork that outline rules, regulations, precedents, (pardon me while I yawn) and procedures for all school district functions. Each little category of school board policy may vary, from the broadest concepts regarding district-wide curriculum to the most miniscule details concerning middle school dress code. Nevertheless, as I think about and attempt to describe what I perceive as school board policy, I realize I am beginning to discover the real power a school board possess. These policies, which may be consequential or seemingly irrelevant, have an impact in the classroom, in the school, and possibly in the community. Though I find the idea of school board policy-making and policy-reviewing extremely tedious, I can only begin to fathom the profound impact such guidelines have on teachers. School boards can potentially influence and even dictate precisely what is included in the curriculum, how this curriculum is taught, and the type of environment in which the material is presented. This is something I will definitely have to keep in mind as I begin my own teaching career in a few years. Indeed, this week’s seminar has led me to conclude that perhaps I should really re-think my rather unenthusiastic perception of school boards. After all, you are supposed to “known thine enemy,” right? (I’m kidding. Mostly.)

Mid-Terms and Finals and Exams...Oh My!

What is it about the words mid-term and final exam that strikes fear in the hearts of today’s students? Is it the cumulative nature of these tests that causes them to be so intimidating? Or is the fact that mid-terms and finals often constitute a larger percentage of our final grades that makes them send shivers up our spines? Perhaps it is a combination of both these reasons. It seems many students have been classically conditioned to have a physical, negative reaction when presented with the idea of a big test, and even more so when this big test is labeled as a mid-term or final.

I sometimes feel as though I am an exception to this generality. Along with a slight sense of nervous expectation, I often also feel a thrill of anticipation at the prospect of an upcoming exam. Mid-terms and finals are a chance to prove how hard I have been working all semester, and the feeling of satisfaction and relief upon completing an arduous test is rather unique. Of course, these sentiments probably place me in the minority in comparison with my classmates and fellow students. If given the option, I would say that most would choose to complete a group project or give a presentation rather than study for and take a traditional college mid-term or final. For me, however, this traditional type of learning seems to work. I appreciate the predictable nature of these exams, such as the mid-term we just took in Educational Psychology. I have developed effective studying methods that prepare me well for each typical section: multiple-choice, vocabulary definition, and essays. This is not to say that I do not learn from other long-term assignments or types of assessments, like research papers, projects, or presentations; yet for me, conventional and established methods of evaluation and testing actually seem to work.

Still, I must admit that our recent Ed. Psych mid-term was a bit surprising for me and even more of a shock for some of my classmates. Given the more laid-back nature of our class conversations and assignments, along with our tendency to discuss the idea of traditional, standardized tests with scorn and disdain, I can understand why I, as well as many other students, felt taken aback. With further reflection, however, I feel the conventional mid-term allowed me to better understand two key ideas about myself and about learning in general. First, I realized more surely about myself that I learn well under more traditional methods of teaching, which does involve the standard idea of a mid-term or final that I have been writing about. Second, and more importantly, I’s also concluded that most people do not learn their best through this method of teaching and learning only. This is certainly not a new idea, yet it will be vital for me to keep this mind while teaching someday in order to ensure as many of my future students as possible are able to truly learn.

Reactions: Role-Play Activity

In place of having the typical lecture during our weekly group seminar for Educational Psychology last Monday evening, we instead partook in an instructive and interesting role-play activity. This activity forced me and my classmates to take on a specific point of view and then defend that view, whether we truly supported it or not. Additionally, the role-play also served as an example of a potentially effective teaching method for future use in our classrooms.

The role-play activity involved an imaginary proposal for a Comprehensive School Improvement Plan (CSIP): a district-wide strategy to employ new methods for gathering data via standardized tests, to set higher standards for students and teachers in accordance with No Child Left Behind legislation, and to implement punitive measures for those who failed to meet expectations. In small groups, we were to take on a role and prepare to defend our position for or against the plan at the upcoming school board meeting. My small group chose to assume the role of parents of low-achieving students and oppose the plan. We chose this position because it was so far removed from any of our previous experiences; as motivated learners from middle class families, our parents typically viewed themselves as parents of high-achieving students. In all likelihood, plans like the proposed CSIP would have gained the support of my mother and father, who have always wanted challenges and opportunities for me and my siblings.

Despite the fact that our role was rather unfamiliar, I did not find it unusually difficult to formulate an argument against the proposal from this perspective. In fact, when listening to other groups present their statements for or against the plan, I found myself being particularly critical of their arguments and rationales because I was already so entrenched in my opinion, even though it really wasn’t my own. It seemed the situation - the crowded room, the zealous claims of my classmates, the provocative questions of our professors, etc. – somehow affected me and, like most of the other students, I found myself wanting to be heard. Certainly, the activity allowed me, on the surface at least, to begin to appreciate the difficulties surrounding such issues as grade-level standards, testing, No Child Left Behind, and the politics of education. After our school board meeting, I recognize how complicated it must be to reach a fair, agreed-upon, and morally-acceptable decision regarding school improvement.

On another level, this activity also proved to me that role-play can be utilized as a valuable teaching tool. My classmates and I took the activity seriously, and I feel I learned more from our school board meeting than I might have if someone had merely stood in front of me and lectured on the complexities and problems that arise when dealing with politics in education.

“Young, Gay and Murdered” – Got Your Attention, Right??

On July 28. 2008, Newsweek printed an article entitled Young, Gay and Murdered by Ramin Setoodeh, the tragic story of 15-year old Larry King’s murder. (As I am not going to fully summarize the piece here, I highly suggest reading it as I found it well written and enlightening.) What most troubles me about this report are the actions, or rather the lack of action, that Larry’s school took in what I believe could have been a preventable tragedy.

Young, Gay and Murdered recounts the tale of Lawrence King, a young, seriously troubled, and flamboyantly gay teenager who was shot and killed point-blank during class by one of his eighth grade classmates. Since his death, he has become an icon for gay-rights activists, yet as the article illuminates, Larry’s murder is too complicated to be simply labeled a hate crime. In his middle school, Larry both harassed other students and was harassed; in response to the anti-gay taunting and persecution, Larry’s “first line of defense” was “his sexuality [and he] wielded it like a weapon.” In today’s rapidly evolving society, I believe it is becoming more and more essential to better educate and prepare schools, especially middle schools, to encourage acceptance and tolerance in response to homosexuality. Yet Larry’s murder only proves that his school (as well as the majority of our national education system) was obviously incapable of dealing with a case such as his, whose sexuality was only one of several important issues that school officials failed to address. The classmate who killed Larry, Brandon McInerney, had serious troubles of his own at home and had been the object of Larry’s affections. The dropping grades and drastically changing moods of both boys, as well as rumors of a confrontation between them just a day before the shooting, should have been critical warning signs to school officials, possible warning enough to have prevented such an awful event. It is obvious to me that school and education today is not always about teaching reading, writing, and arithmetic; it’s not even about preparing students for jobs or college. Sometimes, it’s solely about helping students survive, literally, the long and arduous process of “growing up.” When considering the highly controversial issue of homosexuality, particularly as it affects students of increasingly younger ages, I can honestly say I am concerned for our schools and the similar situations they will inevitably face in the future. Schools will have no choice but to become ready and equipped to handle these issues, yet the difficult question remains as to how. As a teacher in the future, I hope I will remember the story of Larry King and therefore endeavor to promote patience and open-mindedness in my classroom and school, and if necessary, have the fortitude to intervene and stop something tragic like this from happening again.

The Newsweek article asks, “are schools ready to handle the complex issues of identity and sexuality?” Sadly, Larry King’s death provides an emphatic “no” in response to such a question.

The Tired Teacher and Her Developing Students

The past week has been demanding for me. I had piles of homework this weekend, including studying for an important test, as well as several performances for a few of the musical ensembles in which I am involved. These were in addition to my already busy schedule of classes, lessons, rehearsals, and meetings, and to top it all off, I also realized I am one entry behind on this blog! (For which I apologize, Professor Langholtz, but don’t worry. I’m posting two today to make up for it). Regardless, late nights and early mornings have been the norm for the past several days, and by the middle of this week, I was exhausted due to lack of sleep. In fact, I have discovered new meaning to the phrase “working for the weekend;” I cannot wait to sleep-in on Saturday. However, I often found myself wondering this week, how will I deal with grueling times like this when I am a teacher? As I barely remained awake through lectures and discussions, I was often grateful that I was rarely called upon to contribute, yet I realized that as a teacher, I will obviously have to “contribute” every day. How exactly will I balance my career with other important aspects of my life? How can a teacher maintain a healthy, fulfilled life outside school while simultaneously excelling daily in his or her position?

The balancing act between career and, well, everything else, is certainly a predicament most working adults struggle with, and it is a dilemma I have become particularly aware of as we discuss in class the crucial role teachers play in the emotional, mental, and social development of their students. Fulfilling this critical function is a huge responsibility; teachers possess the capacity to have a profound and lasting impact on the lives of countless young learners, on the way they interact in groups and on the way they perceive education and themselves. At school, children acquire important social skills, shape their sense of identity, and begin to internalize moral and ethical principles, processes undoubtedly affected by their teachers. Of course, having this influence is precisely what I have claimed as an overarching goal in my teaching career: to make a difference in others’ lives. Still, the implications of wielding such an influence specifically in the development of one’s students are intimidating, even scary. Affecting the processes of emotional and social development in children means to have an effect on their emotional and social aptitude for years to come. Especially in elementary school classrooms, I feel it is imperative to understand how malleable and impressionable young students are, as I have begun to recognize upon reading more in-depth on this subject. Along with all other teachers, I will have to constantly keep this in mind in the classroom on a daily basis. My lessons and teaching strategies will need to be planned while considering how to encourage emotional competence, cooperation, individual identity development, and moral growth in my students. Particularly during those tiring, strenuous weeks, when my life outside school is hectic and exhausting, I cannot allow myself to forget how important my role as a teacher will be in the developing lives of my students.