Significant Learning Experiences

The other day, my daughter asked me an interesting question. She said, "Do you remember the things that you got wrong the first time, and then corrected, better than you remember the things that you didn't make a mistake on?" I thought about it and realized my answer was, yes, I do remember things better when I've struggled to learn them. My daughter said this was true for her as well. This reminded me of the slightly annoying optimists who tell us that we should think of our mistakes as "learning opportunities." The reasoning behind the platitude is simple: if you don't make any mistakes, you won't learn anything new. 

If this is true, if a process of trial-and-error is beneficial, then what does this say about the role of teachers and students?  For example, if we as students are given simple, step-by-step procedures for using a preselected set of tools to create our archives, blogs, and portfolios, does that diminish what we learn or remember? Is it possible that a "spoon-fed" approach might inhibit, rather than promote, our learning? I'm not suggesting that I wouldn't prefer to be shown how to do things, to spend less time wrestling with tools and more time developing my portfolio content and presentation, but the question still interests me. What do I gain from flailing around in the technological waters, learning from my mistakes? Or, from another perspective, am I doing my son (or other students) a disservice if I "rescue" them from their frustation too soon, showing them how to do things they might have figured out on their own if given more time? 

Yesterday, I read an article called "The Power of Course Design to Increase Student Engagement and Learning." It was written by L. Dee Fink, a professional consultant in higher education. One of his arguments was that significant learning experiences, ones that mean something to us and will stay with us, are ones that include (among other things) a "human dimension" and "learning how to learn." By "human dimension," he meant the ability to "learn something about [ourselves] or about how to interact with others in life" (p. 13). That kind of learning, as Fink describes it, is "truly significant." 

Now, while I suppose that's the kind of observation that makes us say to ourselves, "Well, obviously!" consider how many courses don't have that kind of impact. A course that helps someone to identify personal strengths and limitations, to become more self-aware, or to find his or her own voice, is one that includes truly significant lessons. When it comes to "learning how to learn," the best courses don't end on the last day of classes. They empower us to keep learning on our own after the course is over. 

I created this blog for a graduate-level course, Portfolios in Professional Writing (PW 6950), and as part of my capstone project for a Master of Arts degree in Professional Writing at New England College. There were times when I wanted someone else to "just show me" how to do something, but the satisfaction I gained from eventually doing it on my own outweighed any frustration I felt. I now know how to create a digital archive, a digital narrative, a blog, and several kinds of ePortfolios. In an empowering way, I own those tools, and I can use them to become a better writer. More importantly, I know I can use a similar process to master any new technology that comes my way. And that's no small achievement.