Acquisition, Learning and Empathy

Meaningful Learning

        Louise Rosenblatt’s (1988) “Writing and Reading: The Transactional Theory” covers a wide swathe, yet all of her ideas spring from the triadic transactional model, that is, the writer, the reader and the text.  It behooves us as reading/writing teachers to understand this critical connection, since it has major implications for the FYC classroom.  First, it’s vital that we understand how meaning making is generated, namely, that the reader, with her socially-saturated schema as a filter, interacts with the text to construct a text of her own interpretation; it’s this interpretation that counts as “meaning” for readers, and not the text itself, as Rosenblatt emphasized in a previous paper (1978).  To fail to understand the highly subjective meaning each reader constructs is to misconstrue the reading process and to presume some mythical “correct” meaning of a text, placing false expectations on our students while ignoring the rich schema each brings to the reading process.  Second, the transactional model can help us instruct students as they develop writing skills, including critical “authorial” reading of their own texts while simultaneously keeping their readers’ interests in mind when they write.   

        Of course, just how we steer students toward these goals is as important as understanding the goals themselves.  Rosenblatt (1988) stresses the importance of “creating environments and activities in which students are motivated . . . to draw on their own resources to make 'live' meanings."  This resonates with Krashen’s concept of language acquisition where students interact with the target language in meaningful contexts.  Gee (1989) paraphrases Krashen’s acquisition model as “a process of acquiring something subconsciously by exposure to models and a process of trial and error, without  a process of formal teaching,” but rather in “natural settings” that are meaningful and functional. (539) 
        Learning, by comparison, comes from teaching, though “not necessarily from someone officially designated a teacher,” (539) and entails explanation and explication toward some sort of meta-knowledge.  I take “meaningful” to mean activities that are personally applicable to a student.  For example,  a student learns baseball vocabulary by trying to win in a ball game.  This develops a personal feeling of understanding for the vocabulary in a real context, of belonging and contributing to a social group, and of competing toward a shared goal, versus empty memorizing of vocabulary in a non-contextual lesson from a book with no exigence beyond a grade or fear of failing, for example.  Since we likely agree on the importance of offering meaningful learning events that help students understand the transactional triad toward enhancing their reading and writing skills, it seems appropriate to consider to what extent learning and acquisition benefit our students in meaningful ways in this regard.  

        To my mind, the delineation of learning and acquisition, as if they’re opposites, is a real mistake, especially if we accept that acquisition tends to be meaningful, while learning is -- what -- meaningless?  In general, as in the baseball case above, it makes sense that instruction of discourses tends to benefit from interaction in authentic events.  But just how authentic is still meaningful?  Rote memorization for a history exam might be seen as largely dull, artificial and meaningless, especially contrasted to lessons that students can apply to their own lives.  For example, going to a sit-in for Occupy Oakland and writing a paper on its historical implications, we might generally agree, would be far more meaningful.  But meaningful and meaningless are not absolutes.  Instead, I suggest that meaningfulness lies on a line of gradation with, perhaps, urm, fifty shades of gray in between?  We could say the same for acquisition and learning.  If this is so, then it follows that we might design activities that intermingle acquisition and learning, where even learning is deemed meaningful.  

        Which brings me back to the question of designing an activity to present the transactional reader/writer/text triad.  Say we ask students to write a paper based on a theme of their own choosing; then, to help them understand audience, we place them in small groups and ask them to try to identify their potential readers through discussion with the goal of making a class presentation on their findings.  It seems to me that, like the baseball example, such small group work is highly relevant, even meaningful, as it would inform their writing project and move them toward their goals as writers expressing themselves.  

        Is this learning or acquisition?  While there’s no overt instruction from the teacher, the group work would, according to Krashen, be categorized as learning, since it's meta-cognitive.  I don’t know about today’s K-12 instruction, but regarding student-centered classrooms emphasizing group work of this sort, it’s hard for me to agree with Gee when he says, “acquisition is good for performance, learning is good for meta-level knowledge.”  (540)  What if, as I hope, the above group leads to improved writing performance, not mere meta-cognitive thinking?  Gee seems to speak in terms of either/or, when, in fact, we need to acknowledge that some activities are hybrid insofar as they are meaningful and enhance performance.  
        When based in community-building give-and-take -- like a game of baseball -- goal-oriented group work can result in authentic ways of learning, even if they address meta-cognitive questions initially.  It appears to me that what's at issue is less the meta aspect and more the fact that the lesson can empower students with applicable skills in meaningful ways.

Leading By Example

        My first blog took issue with a slightly different aspect of Gee’s (1898) comment  -- that little acquisition goes on in the classroom.  He makes an excellent point, however: that non-mainstream students have little chance to acquire the mainstream discourse because the classroom promotes learning, not acquisition.  He holds that mainstream students acquire mainstream discourse in the home; as a result, they benefit from classroom practice of this discourse.  But, since non-mainstream students’ parents lack this discourse, when their children come to school, “they cannot practice what they haven’t yet got.” (543)  That this presents a cruel injustice can hardly be disputed.  Yet this is only one part of the problem.  Gee mentions the other part of the problem himself when he states “we all know that teaching is by no means always that good.” (543)  

        But what about when it is?  I hold that a teacher who truly walks the walk can potentially make acquiring a discourse a natural event, even if that discourse is absent from the home, simply because of a desire to emulate that teacher. Roughly speaking, I’d say that for every ten or twelve mediocre teachers I’ve had, there was one outstanding teacher who made a real difference – an unforgettable, life-altering difference.  Such a teacher -- like Mr. Fee, my tenth grade geometry teacher -- loved his students, loved his subject and, because of his expert knowledge and personal passion, imbued us with the feeling that his subject was both exciting and useful.  Have I ever actually used geometry in real life?  Never.  Still, I venture to say that I acquired invaluable discourse from Mr. Fee: a love for solving mysteries, a belief in the benefits of hard work, and a confidence that schooling could make a real difference in my life overall.  

        I suppose I’m talking about teacher persona and a commitment to serving students.  Unfortunately, we can study all the ingenious pedagogical theories and praxes available, but empathy for students -- I don’t know if that can be taught.  Still, this kind of teacher can make a difference in a student’s life, above and beyond acquiring skills or growing cognitively.  This point cannot be emphasized enough, of course: students cannot hope to acquire a discourse until they buy into its ideology, which resonates with Gee’s point, that discourses are inherently “ideological.” (538)  
        Surely our schools could benefit from increased, improved in-class activities for discourse acquisition.  But even this will be incomplete unless our teachers embody the discourse themselves.  In the case of Mr. Fee, he embodied the belief that geometry mattered, that math was empowering, and most of all, that education could help me direct my future.  And this turned my head around in spite of a very dysfunctional family that, not only didn’t emphasize the significance of education, but occasionally threw down obstacles to prevent my participation.  When Gee says teaching is “by no means always that good,” I feel he’s put his finger on the problem: not necessarily a paucity of acquisitional activities, but of empathic teachers.

Reading the World

      Reading Dana Gioia's “On the Importance of Reading,” I found myself muttering a confession – “Guilty!”
     She indicts young people (but her point could apply to my generation as well) for their obsession with entertainment and sports celebrities, and turning their backs on literature. At best, she says, they're Webmongers who “pull something from here and there,” (p. 21) a bit like people at an all-you-can-eat buffet who want a taste of everything, but never really focus on much of anything. As a culture, she laments, we've lost the ability to savor our food, so to speak, since reading for pleasure has all but bitten the dust.
      I say I'm guilty because, though I love literature and majored in it as an undergrad, my interests have been, though I can't say why, more in creative expression – songwriting, fiction writing – than in reading. When I do read, it's often psychological or spiritual self-help or a biography. Where's my thirst for the next Gatsby? I look around for someone to blame, but I come up empty-handed.
     Like Gioia, I weep for the loss of national interest in the arts. As a lover of the arts – especially songwriting and films – I've often felt a misfit in a mass of sports and reality TV devotees. As a (backsliding) lover of literature, I've often felt like a leper in a nation that seems to despise books – unless they're made into blockbuster films. Certainly this national disdain for the arts is the most significant headwind we face in helping students learn to embrace reading.
      Perhaps the NEA's pro-reading campaign, “The Big Read,” is moving in the right direction. Jolliffe and Harl's artcle, “Studying the 'Reading Transition' from High School to College” resonates with Gioia's emphasis on modeling reading for our students, as does Gee's “What is Literacy?” Gee points out that students learn valuable meta-cognitive skills from teaching, but that the most practical education comes from giving students exposure to material and letting them practice on their own.     
      According to this philosophy, reading classes, insofar as their attempts to impart reading skills, only take time away from allowing students to truly immerse themselves in reading for pleasure – the best way to promote acquisition, as opposed to learning.  Aside from guiding young primary school readers in the fundamentals, Gee makes a compelling point that such discourse is best acquired without any instruction.   Personally speaking, my love for books came from my high school's outside reading requirement. Coerced to choose books I liked, I was amazed that reading was fun.
      Jolliffe and Harl suggest a major obstacle blocking high school and college students from deeper engagement with reading, especially course texts, is their inability to see the practical benefits. Wherever possible, the authors recommend teachers make explicit the connections between course readings and future applications.  In a world where students are increasingly driven by financial concerns, these applications need to be clear. (I can relate.   Keen to understand the payoff, I was always the lone student in my algebra class asking, “But when are going to use this?”  Stumped, the teacher stalled and stammered but could only offer, “It's required for trig.”)
     As English teachers, to the extent that it's possible, we need to show students how improved reading and writing is vital to their success in the workplace, in critical thinking (to defend themselves against less than scrupulous marketeers and politicians), and to, as Gioia reminds us, pursue beauty in the arts, including literature, as a “necessary component of a life of self-realization.” (p. 19)
      In finding common ground with our students, using electronic media in the classroom seems the most obvious place to start, whether we're hoping to ignite their interest in course readings or help them develop a love for pleasure reading, much as Jolliffe and Harl posit. Blessed as we are at State with iLearn, we might assume that all colleges are on the same (web)page, but a bit of research suggests other institutions may have a ways to go.  For my money, blogging is the essential component of any course aimed at promoting an expansion of student consciousness into the realm of the academic discourse community.
      It just makes sense to meet students on their own terms – which echoes Paolo Freire's piece, “The Importance of the Act of Reading.”  He emphasizes (again and again!) the necessity of beginning instruction with students' reading of the world around them, and that the act of reading books is then just a logical expansion of that healthy curiosity.  It's essential to present reading and writing as tools for students to discover their own voices, express themselves and speak out against injustice wherever they find it.
      A question: Gee says that, generally speaking, a discourse is mastered through acquisition, not learning, and that school exposes students mostly to learning, not acquisition. How true is this?  What of the lessons students learn from teachers' own modeling of attitudes and of discourse?