One class for which my motivation was mostly internal was an introduction to economics course offered by the Campus Honors Program. Economics and economics reasoning of how goods and services are exchanged in society and every person’s life individually was new to me- I had never taken a class on this subject before. My interest of this academic area outside of my major was enough to drive me to learn all that was taught in class and all that was taught in the textbook. Good grades were not hard to obtain; otherwise I might have been tempted to focus more on them. I was now free to ignore this most basic and essential extrinsic motivator in school and do as I was directed or recommended by the professor without biasing the direction of my efforts based on how each assignment or activity will affect the ever-present grade. This seemed to me to be the most trustworthy way of gaining a good grasp of the material and coming away from the course with a working understanding of the impacts of economics in my personal finances, my career in engineering, my home town in central Illinois, and the global markets at large. I wanted to expand my comprehension of the connections in the material that I was starting to make as a newcomer to economics, not regarding the extrinsic motivations present.
A couple of ways the professor helped the learning in this class was by providing illustrative small group activities during class and by forcing active participation in discussion when students offered an answer to his question. Activities usually involved trying to come up with a model for an interesting economic and social situation (e.g. illegal drug trade) based on our limited knowledge of basic principles in economics. In the ensuing whole-class discussion, if student Jane Doe had a reason why the studied event A would happen, could they come to the board and illustrate to the class why on a plot of supply and demand on the chalkboard?
To bring students into a joint exploration of the class material where student and teacher work together to uncover ideas and principles that have been discovered by other professionals in the past- and just happened to be our curriculum for the class- seemed to be an very effective method of making learning a more intrinsically- motivated activity. This is in contrast to the motivation resulting from a class in which the professor just lectures the material and described in a syllabus what will be covered and how grades will be determined. Students just see the syllabus and the memorizable facts from lectures and decide that “getting a good grade and getting out” consists of “playing a game” of catering to the grading rules and emphasis instead of focusing on learning as driver to work in the course.
Outside of the classroom, I am lucky enough to be working in a part time job where my motivation is intrinsic. I work developing sustainable biofuels with ADM in the University’s Research Park. The subject of this work keeps me motivated by knowing the importance of finding a renewable fuel source for the world’s energy needs in the future. Reaching the goal I am working towards would mean vastly better management of our current renewable and nonrenewable resources, a big score in the fight against global warming, and downgrading of large sources of political strife regarding crude oil extraction in unstable world regions. Even if I cannot see an end product or significant steps toward a solution during my time at the company, I am pushed onward by the “nobility” of the cause and the attractiveness of the potential solution. I also do not feel a large pull to accomplish in order to be recognized by other people, but to just be a part of a larger effort to resolve one of the world’s largest issues. Unfortunately, I don’t see how this method of motivation can be transplanted to most other areas of work. However, seeing one’s work as intrinsically positive and impactful to people is sure to lessen the presence of salary, recognition, and other extrinsic motivations which are ever-present in one’s mind.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Friday, September 18, 2009
Effortful Study and The Expert Mind
The article “The Expert Mind” had a number of interesting points made about the mechanism of forming, retaining, and recalling memories in novices and experts. The learning of an expert is to be desired over that of a novice not because more knowledge is committed to memory, but because experts learn material in a way that allows them to demonstrate a mastery and deep understanding of the subject area that novices lack.
The difference between novice and expert learning was one of stark contrast. According to the article, the novice and expert both have similar memory skills outside the bounds of their very specific training, such as the mental catalogue of chess board configurations. Inside this area of training, however, the expert has a huge advantage from a long term memory organization system that has fine structure to help bring the right connections quickly out of storage. The novice, on the other hand, may have nearly the same amount of information learned and stored in long term memory, but because of the lack of structure only random (however correct) recall of individual pieces of information is possible.
My question which was not answered in the article- perhaps because it cannot be- is how, or when does the transition take place between the novice learning and expert learning in an individual pursuing “effortful study”? Does the structure to the memories of an expert just emerge on its own after a certain number of hours of study, or does the structure more or less need to be put in place as expert learning begins, neglecting the alphabet soup of previously learned novice memories? My guess is that when starting to put forth effortful study, by definition structure is sought and added to the learning mind. This is in contrast to the novice who does not decide to put forth effortful study, and thus subjects the mind to repetition and anarchical organization of individual pieces of information.
Another interesting point was made that in developing an expert mind, effortful study matters much more than innate talent. One fascinating example was Laszlo Polgar’s three daughters, who were all trained rigorously in chess, resulting in one international master and two grandmasters. There was also a study of British chess players that found no correlation between playing strengths and visual-spatial abilities. This emphasis on effortful study tells those who want to educate effectively that in order to get students to learn like experts, motivation for them to put forth this “effortful study” is key. When a child is having trouble learning, it is not that the teacher has reached the limit of the student’s innate ability, but that the child perhaps needs more motivation from a variety of sources to provoke focused, structured, intense, time-consuming study to reap intellectual dividends. Somehow aspiring chess players developed expert minds through tens of thousands of hours of effortful study, and each had to have his or her own motivation to put in the time and sweat. Is it possible for educators to develop the minds of students everywhere by finding the right motivations to push each one to their own “effortful study”? I would venture to say, “yes”.
The difference between novice and expert learning was one of stark contrast. According to the article, the novice and expert both have similar memory skills outside the bounds of their very specific training, such as the mental catalogue of chess board configurations. Inside this area of training, however, the expert has a huge advantage from a long term memory organization system that has fine structure to help bring the right connections quickly out of storage. The novice, on the other hand, may have nearly the same amount of information learned and stored in long term memory, but because of the lack of structure only random (however correct) recall of individual pieces of information is possible.
My question which was not answered in the article- perhaps because it cannot be- is how, or when does the transition take place between the novice learning and expert learning in an individual pursuing “effortful study”? Does the structure to the memories of an expert just emerge on its own after a certain number of hours of study, or does the structure more or less need to be put in place as expert learning begins, neglecting the alphabet soup of previously learned novice memories? My guess is that when starting to put forth effortful study, by definition structure is sought and added to the learning mind. This is in contrast to the novice who does not decide to put forth effortful study, and thus subjects the mind to repetition and anarchical organization of individual pieces of information.
Another interesting point was made that in developing an expert mind, effortful study matters much more than innate talent. One fascinating example was Laszlo Polgar’s three daughters, who were all trained rigorously in chess, resulting in one international master and two grandmasters. There was also a study of British chess players that found no correlation between playing strengths and visual-spatial abilities. This emphasis on effortful study tells those who want to educate effectively that in order to get students to learn like experts, motivation for them to put forth this “effortful study” is key. When a child is having trouble learning, it is not that the teacher has reached the limit of the student’s innate ability, but that the child perhaps needs more motivation from a variety of sources to provoke focused, structured, intense, time-consuming study to reap intellectual dividends. Somehow aspiring chess players developed expert minds through tens of thousands of hours of effortful study, and each had to have his or her own motivation to put in the time and sweat. Is it possible for educators to develop the minds of students everywhere by finding the right motivations to push each one to their own “effortful study”? I would venture to say, “yes”.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Opening up Conversations
To start, I am not an expert on conversation, and as a natural introvert I doubt I ever will be. There are some recurring rules of thumb in my experience, though, that I might mention. In order to open up a prospective conversation partner, in most cases where the other is not a very close friend it is best to start small and build meaning as the conversation progresses. Beginning a conversation with profound or controversial topics can most often discourage participation or provoke passionate, unthoughtful monologging of someone’s personal absolutes. I usually try to start conversation on mundane topics such as weather, school, news, or the surroundings. This allows most people to begin to feel comfortable whether they be outgoing or not. As conversation progresses, I try to wean away from the mundane to more personal subjects that are largely unobtrusive such as one’s family, weekend plans, state/town of origin, hobbies, or pets.
When in conversation, I usually try to talk in a straightforward and clear manner of vocabulary and voice. I generally have not had good conversational experiences with overly “elegant” (a.k.a. confusing) speech or someone that speaks in mumbles or too softly or quickly to be heard. Eye contact is important to a point, although I realize that I naturally look away from time to time to reduce the possibility of becoming imposing or too intense. It is also helpful if the speaker tries to not make excessive movements with the rest of his or her body, as this can be quite distracting.
For troubleshooting conversations, I usually try to be a defensive driver. When resistance is sensed, I usually maneuver to a different topic. Despite what anyone else may think, I believe that there is always something on a person’s mind that they want to share or discuss. And it is usually worth finding, if the other person is in a fair mood. When someone has high resistance to continue conversation, I usually feel fine stopping. Ultimately, it is not my obligation to continue, and sometimes the sound of silence can bring forth more mutual understanding and respect between people than hot air could ever hope to yield.
When in conversation, I usually try to talk in a straightforward and clear manner of vocabulary and voice. I generally have not had good conversational experiences with overly “elegant” (a.k.a. confusing) speech or someone that speaks in mumbles or too softly or quickly to be heard. Eye contact is important to a point, although I realize that I naturally look away from time to time to reduce the possibility of becoming imposing or too intense. It is also helpful if the speaker tries to not make excessive movements with the rest of his or her body, as this can be quite distracting.
For troubleshooting conversations, I usually try to be a defensive driver. When resistance is sensed, I usually maneuver to a different topic. Despite what anyone else may think, I believe that there is always something on a person’s mind that they want to share or discuss. And it is usually worth finding, if the other person is in a fair mood. When someone has high resistance to continue conversation, I usually feel fine stopping. Ultimately, it is not my obligation to continue, and sometimes the sound of silence can bring forth more mutual understanding and respect between people than hot air could ever hope to yield.
Friday, September 4, 2009
The Motivation of Numbers
One item of discussion from class which I felt especially interesting was the effect that numbers have on the direction and magnitude of someone’s efforts. As simple and impersonal as numbers are, they are routinely able to profoundly push and pull our motives. The Apgar score, a way to quantify the health of a newborn baby, was able to bring about a push from doctors to strive for best practice when their effort could be quantified, maximized, and compared among others. There are other examples of “grades” or “scores” which have been effective in other areas as well, and some that are not (e.g. ICES results for full professors). But the question I want to bring up is something else.
Is there a danger to numbers? Can a counterexample be found in which the influence of objectivity in professions or social situations offered by numbers is negative? My answer is yes. One area where positive change can be at odds with numbers nowadays is the public school system. The increased emphasis of former President George W. Bush’s “No Child Left Behind” program on standardized test scores has furthered a gap between what teachers want to teach and what teachers feel they need to teach. One the one hand, what teachers want to teach foundational material in ways that can be effective and stimulating to students. This includes activities beyond the textbook such as taking fieldtrips to art museums, making advertisement posters in Spanish, and building Rube Goldberg contraptions in physics classes. One the other hand, teachers in lower-performing classrooms of high-minority, underfunded public schools feel the need to teach material that will raise the class’s standardized test scores to secure their job and secure the school’s future funding. This includes cutting out peripheral activities that may be more interesting for kids, paring down class material to only that covered in standardized tests, and investing a certain amount of class time to specifically teach standardized test-taking skills and techniques.
What’s the effect? Well, if my actual objective for America’s future generation is to have them be taught to be creative thinkers with a broad knowledge base in a way that has made learning fun for them (thus encouraging further education), numbers can really get in the way. Teachers at poorer schools in inner city districts that are striving for acceptable test scores are hamstringed by fear of losing their job for bad (or stagnant) student performance, as administrators become keen on the new ties of public funding to standardized test performance. Even worse, some teachers are tempted to allow their students to cheat on these tests to help out the class’s results.
Thus, as mentioned in class, numbers can prove powerful agents for effective change as standards of measurement. Competition can drive men and women to achieve best practice, and numbers can provide the metric. However, numbers can also pull motivation away from the goal of overall excellence and push motivation toward a narrow, confined definition of achievement. When looking to bring about effective change, one must know if the difference between an “A” and an “F” is the difference between success and failure, or simply a matter of how much help you had taking the test.
Is there a danger to numbers? Can a counterexample be found in which the influence of objectivity in professions or social situations offered by numbers is negative? My answer is yes. One area where positive change can be at odds with numbers nowadays is the public school system. The increased emphasis of former President George W. Bush’s “No Child Left Behind” program on standardized test scores has furthered a gap between what teachers want to teach and what teachers feel they need to teach. One the one hand, what teachers want to teach foundational material in ways that can be effective and stimulating to students. This includes activities beyond the textbook such as taking fieldtrips to art museums, making advertisement posters in Spanish, and building Rube Goldberg contraptions in physics classes. One the other hand, teachers in lower-performing classrooms of high-minority, underfunded public schools feel the need to teach material that will raise the class’s standardized test scores to secure their job and secure the school’s future funding. This includes cutting out peripheral activities that may be more interesting for kids, paring down class material to only that covered in standardized tests, and investing a certain amount of class time to specifically teach standardized test-taking skills and techniques.
What’s the effect? Well, if my actual objective for America’s future generation is to have them be taught to be creative thinkers with a broad knowledge base in a way that has made learning fun for them (thus encouraging further education), numbers can really get in the way. Teachers at poorer schools in inner city districts that are striving for acceptable test scores are hamstringed by fear of losing their job for bad (or stagnant) student performance, as administrators become keen on the new ties of public funding to standardized test performance. Even worse, some teachers are tempted to allow their students to cheat on these tests to help out the class’s results.
Thus, as mentioned in class, numbers can prove powerful agents for effective change as standards of measurement. Competition can drive men and women to achieve best practice, and numbers can provide the metric. However, numbers can also pull motivation away from the goal of overall excellence and push motivation toward a narrow, confined definition of achievement. When looking to bring about effective change, one must know if the difference between an “A” and an “F” is the difference between success and failure, or simply a matter of how much help you had taking the test.
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