Can the School Teach Deep Learning?

Can the School Teach Deep Learning?

A Paper based on

Deeply Affecting First-Year Student’s Thinking:

Deep Approaches to Learning and Three Dimensions of Cognitive Development

By

Marcial I. Enginco

MA Educational Psychology

College of Education

UP Diliman

For

Grace S. Koo, PhD

Professor, EDFD 202: Cognitive Learning

SUMMARY

Deeply Affecting First-Year Student’s Thinking: Deep Approaches to Learning and Three Dimensions of Cognitive Development is a study conducted to assess mainly the effects and relationship of Deep Approaches to Learning (DAL) to students’ Critical Thinking, Need for Cognition and Positive Attitudes Toward Learning.  It was published in the May-June 2014 edition of the The Journal of Higher Education.

The researchers sent invitations to participate to college and universities all over the United States on which 60 responded positively, 19 institutions were then selected.  The longitudinal research initially collected data from 4,501 incoming first year college students, with 3,081 of the total (68.5%) agreeing to  a follow up data collection. 

The research aimed to estimate the relationship of DAL on three cognitive dimensions, namely: Critical Thinking, Need for Cognition, and Positive Attitudes Toward Learning.  The results reveal that DAL has no relationship to Critical Thinking, but with slight significance to Need for Cognition and Positive Attitudes Toward Learning.

The study was conducted by Thomas F. Nelson Laird, Tricia A. Seifert, Ernest T. Pascarella, Matthew J. Mayhew and Charles F. Blaich with a grant from the Center of Inquiry in the Liberal Arts, Wabash College.

INTRODUCTION

Deep learning, like a young tree taking root, is lasting and has positive implications on the growth of a person not only as a learner but as an individual making productive decisions later in life.  As the learning burrows ever deeper into the rich soil of knowledge, it gives growth to sturdy branches that allow the learner to become an incisive and insightful thinker, with an inner motor to creatively and persistently seek out knowledge to use and share freely and readily, without need for recognition – like a sprawling canopy generously giving shade and respite to the weary just because it can. 

But alas, an analogy about how potent deep learning can be in the field of education, or in creating clarity and crafting solutions out of personal, social or work life problems is easier to conjure in the head than to make it work in the classroom, as the results of this study would seem to strongly suggest.

A teacher, or even an ordinary person with cursory concern over a student’s education, would be justified to assume that a young student, fresh from high school, will positively gain from being exposed for a year to something as effervescently termed as Deep Approach to Learning, or DAL.

However, oddly and rather unexpectedly, the research has failed to establish a link between DAL and Critical Thinking, and had barely – and only by a flimsy thread – connected it with Need for Cognition and Positive Attitudes Toward Learning.  Intriguing further is the finding that it is not exposure to DAL but the pre-college critical thinking level and academic preparation of students which determine the overall critical thinking performance of the respondents when they transition into college.  Simply put, high school students will roughly register the same score in critical thinking up until the end of their first year in college, even if they went through a year of DAL.

 Is DAL, then, merely a powerful-sounding placebo? A myth that educators want to play over and over to assure the educational system, to which they belong, that it is closer now more than ever to understanding how the human mind learns?   Is the school the proper venue for learning to learn deeply, or is it merely an auxiliary to such a pursuit?  I will attempt to address these questions and expound on other related issues in this paper.

The Good, The Bad and The Questionable

As a graduate student still finding my way through the intricacies of research, I heavily rely on how readings, particularly journals and studies, are written and constituted to inform my concept of what a good research paper should be, at least in substance, flow and structure as I prefer to adapt the form to my prose.  

However, too often, I encounter researches that treat the review of related literature as an opportunity to showcase how much work went into the paper even before the actual research began by haphazardly citing sources left and right, front, back and center, instead of lucidly using the same to guide and educate  the reader about competing views and reinforcing thoughts, which then will lead to insightful dissection of gaps that underscore the importance of the study, as well as the value of its eventual findings to the reader and his particular interests.   This is why I appreciate the manner by which the researchers of this study clearly and methodically whittled down the gaps out of the literature woodwork, which has made it easier for me to grasp the importance of their research and what can and cannot be realistically expected and derived from it.

Also, I think that the researchers should be commended for, at least on paper, broadening the conditions from which the study of deep learning and its effect on students may be framed by including contextualizing factors such as the respondents’ socio-economic background into the mix of variables.  Though I would have appreciated it better had they actually raised the results and discussed the findings to suggest differences in (even similarities or no differences), say, critical thinking between Hispanics, African-Americans, Asian-Americans and Caucasian Americans.  I mention this because I believe that such general data may be used by future researchers as a starting point for further understanding ethnicity, and the social contexts and underpinnings particular to a group.

The researchers exercised great care in the selection of participating institutions.  However, the same, it seems, was not applied to the choice of respondents as liberal arts students were more liberally selected over other majors in the sample.  This over representation, the paper explains, is because the study’s focus is on the impacts of liberal arts colleges and liberal arts experiences.  Oddly enough, no findings specifically mentioning the results for liberal arts students were discussed or offered in the paper.  Or perhaps, the results corresponding to that query were exclusively turned over to the Wabash College, which sponsored the research.  Whatever the case maybe, this apparent overlook leaves questions hanging.  Was it because the researchers utilized weighting algorithms designed to make the overall sample more similar to the population?  If so, then it defeats the stated purpose of over representation and exposes perhaps a flaw of loose ends and untied threads.

I suppose it is not illegal because apparently it is an accepted research strategy, but I highly question the propriety of giving a stipend to the respondents as the endeavor is essentially and ultimately academic in nature.  Would the respondents answer less truthfully had they not received any monetary compensation?  I wonder, is the reason behind this strategy driven by deep or shallow thinking?

Likewise, I also feel that the respondents were not given full disclosure of the nature of the study they were participating in, but merely a general and vague description of it when they were informed that they were to be part of, to quote from the paper verbatimly, “a national longitudinal study examining how a college education affects students, with the goal of improving the undergraduate experience.”  It is like informing a would-be participant in an experimental anti-ebola medicine that the test that will be conducted on him aims to find out how fast his body can absorb an unknown drug, with unknown effects – still true, but not the truth that the subject needs to hear.  I wonder if the results of the research would change if the respondents were informed that the study was about how DAL would affect their critical thinking, need for cognition and positive attitudes toward learning.

ANALYSIS AND DISCUSSION

It is said that the inner drive to search for knowledge becomes second nature to deep learners, and that this trait holds true outside of the classroom and manifests in multi-faceted ways in how the person goes about his daily business.  For the deep learner learning itself, and the process that goes with it, is more than enough motivation to seek out knowledge – and sometimes, “The” only reason for doing so.  On the other hand, the shallow learner prefers rote and memory exercises, avoids complex situations and detests unfamiliar terrains as these may lead to mistakes and wrong decisions that he/she will deem a failure, a rather embarrassing one.

Unfortunately, in the absence of an objective verification outside of the classroom and into the personal lives of both kinds of learner, the proof of learning and performance is often measured in grades; which, then, begs the questions: Did the learner with the high grades actually learn?  and did the learner who did not get a sterling mark absorbed less?  Add to this the reality that many teachers teach for exams and we can see how unreliable most grading systems are is in far as gauging whether students are developing into deep, lifelong learners or shallow, memory sticks collecting data that is either conveniently deleted, replaced, or corrupted over time.

From grade school and up to the time I was in college, I was not a performer in the traditional sense of schooling terminology.  And if my grades were any indication, then I was not learning all that much either.   But I was learning, deeply. 

My first encounter with cartoons was on a neighbor’s TV set.  The young Enginco household then, with our parents’ indulgence, did not have the benefit of technology, except for a small radio cassette player that was not allowed to play louder than a normal conversation.  What passed for entertainment were three sets of encyclopedia which I began leafing through long before I knew what letters sounded like.  There were also all manners of printed paper materials with visually rich pictures including big, thick books about two wars apparently involving an entire world populated by people with a penchant for violence and facial hair, an even bigger hardbound with watercolor illustrations of jagged lines that formed brown, green and white masses scattered over vast blues with tiny ships trailing dotted lines that touched the edges of brown, thin magazine-sized books about massive triangular edifices housing half-naked dead people with serious eyeliners, huge flying lizards that lived in water and large fierce-looking animals that ate treetops, but which no one alive had seen in the flesh, only in bones.  I looked at all of them, over and over again.  And when I learned how to read, I went over them, over and over again, and so with the score of Reader’s Digest that kept coming in month after month.

But at school, I practically read nothing.  And in the instances that I did, there was no trace of enjoyment, only a deep fear of being singled out as lazy and unworthy of being called a student.

When I entered college at barely sixteen, I did not strike anyone as an intelligent person.  In fact, the first thing that a school official told me when she was looking over my report card with a worried face was, “Mag-aaral ka ng mabuti, ha.”  I simply nodded because I’ve been hearing the same thing from my former teachers every time they wrote down on my report card the numerical value of my performance in class.  Were the grades fair?  If it reflected the sum of my performance based on test scores, assignments and projects turned in, and overall participation in class, I say they were.  But did it take into account whether I was a deep learner or a shallow one?   Apparently not.  And it seems that most schools and many educators do not care as long as their requirements for computing grades are objectively met.

But admittedly, I came into college not much of a critical thinker, or else I would have questioned how the way grades are computed, and how education – which should prepare the student for the real world – is ironically largely not about the real world.  While I was naturally curious, I went about looking for answers without the benefit of weighing first in my head the answers and options to the questions: What can I, or others, get out of this?  Is it good for me?  For others?  Will it put me in trouble?  Not even the basic question, Can I get away with it?

I believe that critical thinking is the difference between the intelligent and the wise.  It comes with age, experience and making mistakes, and not through school-induced strategies, no matter how well-meaning or well-defined they are.  So it does not surprise me at all that the results of the study have shown that the level of critical thinking of first year college students will be no different from when they were still highschool seniors.  It is not fair to have high expectations about critical thinking from people who have not lived long enough to learn lessons from their mistakes.  And we are talking here about Americans who go into their first year in college at roughly 18 or 19.  What more can you expect from Filipino students who enter college at 16 (Until the first graduates of the K-12 come in, that is.).

Yes, there is a marked difference in critical thinking between freshmen and their junior and senior counterparts.  I had first account knowledge of this when I was asked to teach literature some years ago, which involved not only a lot of reading but plenty of analysis and discussions as well.  For reasons known only to the respective program directors, some courses required their students to take the subject in their first year of schooling, while others recommended it for later years.  To my consternation and utter frustration (directed towards the program directors), I found the ideas, articulation and capacity for lesson integration of first year students not only severely lacking in depth and clarity, but in breadth and ambition as well, which were thankfully miles apart from those of many juniors’ and seniors’ who have somehow reached the beginning stages of critical thinking.

I believe that positive attitudes toward learning and need for cognition are as equally important as critical thinking to deep learning.  A student who has a positive disposition to learning is not given to frustration and self-doubt in the face of difficult and complex lessons.  On the other hand, one who sees education, and learning in general, as a chore and required burden tends to be highly self-critical and averse to making mistakes that paralysis by analysis becomes an unintended consequence when confronting complexity or unfamiliar territory.  Thus, the learner forfeits the opportunity to deepen his knowledge or discover opportunities.  I have known many people who were grade conscious and got good marks in college who settled for jobs that require minimum risks such as an executive assistant (euphemism for secretary), or employs rote such as a bank teller or bill collector, which greatly undermine their true potential to acquire more challenging and rewarding pursuits.

Need for cognition is the term used to describe a person’s tendency to engage in and enjoy thinking.  People with high need for cognition immerse themselves in ideas and knowledge, and actively participate in discussions and other activities that deepen and broaden what they already know.  On the other hand, those with low need for cognition are said to have the tendency to look at others, either a trusted friend or a famous celebrity, to shape their thoughts and facilitate decisions.  Sadly, at the rate Kris Aquino, Vice Ganda and Vic Sotto are gobbling up endorsement deals then I guess it would be fair to assume that many Filipinos have very low need for cognition.  Perhaps this also explains why the likes of the Revillas, Estradas and Lapids win elections running away, to the bank.

CONCLUSION

Are Philippine schools designed for deep or shallow learning?  Do teachers have the capacity to plumb the depths of learning?  If not, can they be trained to adapt to teach deep learning techniques?  And if they can be trained, can their teaching output be standardized to assure deep learning?

I believe the answers would depend on who is responding.

DepED top brass would say, “But of course, we can and we will employ DAL in our classrooms.  In fact, we have the modules ready and training schedules planned.  Our implementation goal is this… “

While the teacher would reply, “Don’t tell me that I’m doing it wrong.  I’ve been teaching this subject for 20 years already and I can recite my lessons even with eyes closed.  If you want to go deep learning, then go deep in your pocket so that we can get just compensation for teaching your children how to learn.  Ang hirap kaya.”

And then the students would nonchalantly mutter, “It sounds scary.  Do we even need that?”

Deep learning does not happen in a vacuum.  There must be an impetus to make it happen.  And in fairness to the school and to the educational system as a whole, I don’t think that learning deep learning starts nor ends inside a classroom.  I believe that any researcher can predict with a high degree of certainty the depth or shallowness of a student’s learning by simply looking at what can be found inside the child’s house, or listening at what kinds of conversation and how they are carried out inside the home. 

We had what we had inside our small, wooden house and we, all six male siblings, grew up with a healthy appreciation for learning. 

Of course, a teacher with great awareness at the totality of the learning process would be very helpful in the process.  But until all teachers learn to stop saying “Mag-aral ka, mababa ang mga grades mo,” the school can never be the bastion and champion of deep learning.

The Education of the Street smart and the Image of the Student as a Business Capital

The Education of the Street smart and

the Image of the Student as a Business Capital

by Marcial I. Enginco, MA Educational Psychology, UP Diliman

“The world is a stage, and all the men and women merely players,” is an oft quoted line from William Shakespeare’s play As You Like It.  It may also very well be the foundation of the dramaturgical perspective developed by sociologist Erving Goffman, in which he metaphorically used the stage, its actors and audience to observe and analyze intricacies of social interaction (Crossman).  The dramaturgical perspective argues that the self is made up of various parts, which he or she presents particularly for specific audiences.

Victor Turner, a British cultural anthropologist, introduced his own viewpoint into the dramaturgical perspective by declaring that not only are humans actors and players, but they are also active makers and interpreters of symbols that are found in society (Scott Hudson, 2009).  Turner further explains that social actions are initiated and influenced by culturally accepted symbols. 

This research will attempt to shed light on the culture of making money on the streets, the common strategies employed and their implications and outcomes, using Goffman’s dramaturgical perspective.   Likewise, this study will delve into the social and moral conceptions surrounding youth bus vendors who claim to be self-supporting students or working students, under the framework of Turner’s symbolic interaction.

INTRODUCTION

The streets of Metro Manila do not only serve as conduits for moving people and goods from one place to another, some of these, especially those plied by public utility vehicles, have become convenient, albeit unexpected stages for human dramas as they evolve and transpire in myriad ways. 

With commuters serving as unsuspecting audience, such dramas – diskarte in street parlance -- are often enacted by citizens belonging to the lower rungs in the social economic scale, who heavily rely on the streets to eke out a living, with the captive audience paying for the performance.  Poor people with disabilities or are in advanced age normally occupy a strategic area in foot-traffic heavy places like overpasses, street crossings and outside of busy commercial buildings to panhandle or scrounge for food.  While the younger and more mobile ones brave the dangers of vehicular traffic to board public utility jeeps to ask, cajole, and sometimes extort money from cooperative commuters.

   

A Sampling of Street Performances

On one short jeepney ride from LRT-Buendia going to Pedro Gil, I have encountered three separate instances of this performance.  Not long had the jeep left Buendia that a young girl of about ten years of age, together with a child, I reckon not more than three, clambered aboard.  The older child acted as guide to the small one as they inched their way towards the center aisle, both with an extended open palm to passengers, some of whom chose to look away, others openly murmured at how callous and irresponsible the parents of this children are to allow them to roam the streets, and a few reached into their pockets to spare the small ones some loose change.  The duo got off at a street stop, with the older child pocketing their collection, which in my estimation by the number of passengers who reached into their pockets, was no lower than 20 pesos.

After less than 5 minutes, another pair hopped in.  Both however were older and bigger, around 12 and 5, respectively.   A stocky man to my right, drabbed in working man’s clothes, was laughing as he chided the two: Naku, mas maliliit yung mga nauna sa inyo.  Mas mukhang kawawa tignan.  Mahina ang kita niyo dito!

Taking this as a cue, the bigger boy sat at a vacant seat and pulled his companion to his lap, waiting for the next stop where they eventually jumped back to the pavement, scanning for the next jeepney to board.  The passengers, who a while ago were lost in their own thoughts, were chiming in on an impromptu conversation, with no one particularly talking to anyone in specific.  Words like kawawa, sana and delikado mixed with raket, sindikato and pang-gagamit.

As the talk eventually died down and the seats vacated by alighting passengers were taken on by new ones, a scrawny teenager with dyed hair and pierced ears spryly hopped on board, surprising many.  After securing his balance in the middle of the jeep, the boy delivered this spiel in a sing-song manner:  Ako po si _________, lumalapit po ako sa inyo upang humingi ng konting abuloy sa aking ama na namatay sa pagta-trabaho.  Ang aking pong ama ay isa pong vendor sa may Luneta, ngunit dahil po ng sobrang pagod ay biglaan na lang pong inatake sa puso at namatay.   Ang aking pong ina ay isang labandera lamang.  Sa katunayan po ay wala po kaming pampalibing sa aking ama (as he shows a piece of photocopied paper inside a clear plastic sheet, purportedly a death certificate).

His eyes are quick as he surveyed the activity of passengers inside the jeep as he spoke.  Though his voice trailed off at times to indicate forlorn, his face did not look sad or dazed as would be expected from one with a recently deceased father.

Huwag po kayong matakot sa akin, mas mabuti na pong dumulog ako sa inyo kesa gumawa po ako ng masama gaya po ng magnakaw  (This loosened the grip of a female student on her bag).  Napakalaki pong tulong sa amin kung ano man pong inyong maiaabot.

And with that, the lad extended an open palm to accept “abuloy” from strangers, including that coming from the female student.  He must have collected at least thirty pesos.  He jumped off the jeep, but not before politely thanking everyone for the help and apologizing for the “istorbo.”

A passenger commented, “Eh, dalawang  linggo nang patay ang tatay nu’n eh.  Nakasakay ko na yun dati pa.”

Then other passengers chimed in, “Manloloko,” “Tamad,” “Magpapasko na kasi.”

…..

Other diskarte includes the medical mission volunteer of so and so NGO chapter, and the religious missionary of some unknown church (not to be mistaken for the evangelizers of the Pentecostal Missionary church who are legitimate church workers) who would distribute letters or envelopes printed with their supposed group’s cause.  Because of the ubiquity and unimaginative nature of this performance, which offers nothing more than a piece of paper and feigned sincerity, this strategy earns more scolding and scorn from passengers than coins and bills.

The advent of Youtube -- where street talents such as Lyca, the sensational singing street urchin and winner of the local version of The Voice, are routinely discovered and allowed their 30 seconds of fame -- has spawned a small army of singers of different ages and talent levels attempting to serenade or, at the very least, entertain people in the streets in exchange for some loose change.

In Lipa, where the researcher is from, even some of the Badjaos from Mindoro and a remote barangay in Batangas City (30 kilometers away), who descend into the city in droves from November to December, have adapted to this new way of making money.  Where they were once content to persistently jab their open hand on anyone they encounter on the street, many now carry a self-devised percussion instrument made from tethered PVC pipes and tin cans which they rhythmically tap as they wail away to tunes only they know and understand.  While they have added some form of entertainment value to their peddling, the Badjaos are still largely viewed as nuisance as they continue to litter and defecate anywhere they please, and are even known to spit at people who ignore or get piqued by their incessant jabbing, and scratch the paint of cars whose passengers refuse to spare some loose change.

The Self-supporting Student: A class all its own

For all the money-making tactics employed by individuals or groups on the street, one modus operandi is so disarming it practically lulls its audience into either giving in to the demand of the performer, or allowing its practitioner to proceed with his/her agenda without protestation or outwardly visible antagonism commonly reserved to the previously mentioned performers.

Anyone who has regularly commuted on a passenger bus would have encountered this scenario at least once:  A young person, between the ages 18 to 25, will board the bus carrying a large plastic bag full of local kakanin and sweets such as dried mangoes, pastillas, oraro, ube and macapuno balls.  He/she will politely distribute a small piece of paper about the size of a regular business card, which would state his/her name, his/her occupation as a self-supporting student, and a plea to the passenger to find goodness in his/her heart to buy the food stuff that he/she carries in his/her bag.  After which, this person will go by each passenger, beginning from the rear of the bus going to the front, to mild-manneredly and smilingly offer his/her merchandise.

While I have my suspicions that this group of individuals are not who they claim to be, and what they are doing, while not necessarily illegal or egregious, is patently wrong because it is founded on deception, I am occasionally moved enough by the performance to suspend judgment and to even part with 20 to 50 pesos in exchange for a product that I had no interest in buying in the first place.

These young men and women and how they exploit the image of a student and what it means to commuters, and the Filipino in general, to obtain a purchase, are the main subjects of this study.   

To gather information, the researcher used the following: observation, interview and field notes.  The research took place over a period of 6 weeks, across various streets of the cities of Lipa, Manila, Pasay, Taguig, Makati, Mandaluyong, Pasig and Quezon.

Casing the self-supporting student

The subjects often congregate in groups of 3 to 5, either in bus terminals or in spots where buses unload or take in passengers.  When they are in designated bus stops, only one will board an approaching bus, while the rest will wait for the next until everyone has taken a ride.  The intersections of Dela Rosa Street and the South Superhighway in Makati, and Ortigas and EDSA adjacent to Robinsons Galleria, as well as the terminals of provincial buses in Taft Avenue, Kamias, EDSA and Cubao, are some of the locations where they are usually found.

Unless one is intently looking for them, these youths are difficult to tell from other youngsters waiting for their bus inside the terminal boarding area.  They banter with each other, tinker with their cell phones, and generally behave like any other youngster on a bus terminal.  That is until they stand up, grab their bags, and enter a bus loaded with passengers anxious to get to their destination.

During one bus ride along EDSA, a male vendor distributed a piece of paper introducing himself as Kenneth.  I called the name out just as he passed me.  He did not look, so I repeated the name.  Again, there was no response.  When he came across me anew, I asked if he had dried mangoes.  “Meron po, 50 pesos.”

As we transacted, I introduced myself and asked him if I can conduct an interview with him some time.  He nodded.  But when I told him the nature of my questions, he said: Medyo busy po ako ngayon.  I told him we can set a schedule at his convenience if he gives me his mobile number.  “Wala po akong cell phone eh.”

“Kenneth” was able to sell to a handful of passengers before alighting.  Unlike the passengers’ reaction to other street “performers,” there were no snide remarks while he was on board, or after he got off.

…..

I met Potpot at the JAM bus terminal along Taft Avenue, near Buendia.  I was observing him for some time before I decided to approach him.  He was seated near where some bus conductors are in a huddle.  His eyes were continually checking one bus as it slowly got filled with passengers.  I smiled at him and asked if he had dried mango with him.  He nodded to acknowledge me but replied that he was not selling dried mangos.  I apologized, thinking that I had wrongly mistaken him for a vendor.

I then turned to one bus conductor to inquire if he knows self-supporting students who board buses to sell sweets and local delicacies.  The conductor asks why I was interested.  “Mag-i-interview lang sana ako.”  He pointed me to the man I was talking to just a while ago.

With that, I initiated a conversation.  I introduced myself and asked if we could have a little chat about his job as a self-supporting student.  He gave me a wry smile and a piece of paper which stated his name as Potpot, a brother working to support the studies of his sibling.  His face and built indeed looked closer to 30 than 20.  Nasaan ang kapatid mo?, I asked.  “Aakyat na ako, kuya,” he replied in a low voice which hinted of a southern Philippine accent.

“Mamaya na ng konti, hindi pa naman puno ang bus,” I implored.  He shook his head as he thrusted his right hand towards me, gesturing for something.  Then I remembered I was still holding on to his business card, which I returned as I thanked him.  After he disappeared into the bus, the conductor volunteered, “Madami ang mga yan, karamihan galing sa Mindanao.”

I hopped on to another waiting bus, it was 7PM and I had to go home to Lipa.  It was not more than ten minutes when I decided that I’d try to find another subject.  “Sayang naman ang oras,” I thought to myself. 

I returned to the passengers waiting area and alternated watching news being flashed on a mounted flat screen TV, and looking for prospective subjects among the people inside the area.  After about half an hour of waiting, a familiar face blocked my view.  It was the conductor of the bus which brought me to Manila from Lipa, some five hours ago.  “Hindi ka pa uuwi, sir?” he inquired.  “Hindi pa eh, naghahanap pa ako ng makakausap para sa research ko.”  After I explained to him the nature of my inquiry, he bid me to follow him as he just spotted a person that might have some answers for me.

“Oh, kaibigan ko ito ha.  May mga tatanungin lang siya sa iyo.  Sasagutin mo ha.  Kaibigan ko ito.”  He was talking to Potpot, who had left earlier in a departing bus, and returned to the station on one that had just finished its route.  His bag, which had some bulk a while ago, was now limp on the floor, empty except perhaps for a few unsold bags of goodies.  He nodded without looking at me. His eyes were glued on another TV, showing a basketball game between Ginebra and Talk n’ Text.  I saw an opportunity to put him at ease, “Mahilig ka sa basketball?”  He nodded.

“Anong team mo diyan?”

He mumbled something unintelligible, which I did not dare him to clarify lest I lose the small fluidity that I was getting that moment.  He slumped on the chair’s back rest, which I read as a sign that he was loosening up.  “Anong oras ka lumabas?” I probed.  “Tanghali na, mga 11.”

“Naubos mo paninda mo?”

Again, he mumbled.  But I gathered from his gesture that he almost sold out, and that he was ready to call it a day.

“Saan ka ba umuuwi?”

 “Sa Nuvalichis.”

“Pero saan talaga ang probinsya mo?”

“Davao.”

“So doon ka rin nag-aral?”

“Oo kuya,” he paused for a while before adding, “pumasok din ako isang simister, HRM.”  And he explained how it was tough to study when there is no money.

“Ahh, so nandoon din yung kapatid mo na pinapaaral?”

Potpot quickly removed his back from the backrest and placed his elbows on his knees.  His lips were not moving; his eyes steely focused on the TV screen.  There was an awkward silence in the air that contrasted with the cacophony of sounds of bus engines on idle, and the harsh clash of noise of people milling about the station and the voices of the news anchor on one TV, and the screaming fans watching basketball live inside Araneta Coliseum in another.  I knew I lost him.

During a timeout, Potpot stood up, looked down at me and muttered, “Kuya, uuwi na ako.  Pasinsiya ka na ha.”

….

I got a tip from the bus drivers that the young vendors wait for their chance to board at the corner of De La Rosa Street, just before the provincial buses turn left to Buendia.  And there, one late morning, I chanced upon a group of three girls, seated at a log under a young mahogany tree not large enough to create a decent shade.  One member of the group was familiar, her name, according to the business card she handed out to me some weeks back, was Tintin.  She was a familiar fixture at the JAM terminal in Kamias, along EDSA where I take my ride home after my class at UP.  In one of my observation sessions, I spotted Tintin repeatedly counting the money she collected from selling, which amounted to at least P1,700.

The party met my greetings with warm, if not shy smiles.  They initially thought I was an eager customer.  But when I hinted at an interview, their enthusiasm waned as they eyed me with suspicion.  A fourth person, a male, joined the group to investigate the fuss.  I explained my presence and showed them my school ID to assure them that my purpose was legitimate and completely innocuous, which only succeeded in convincing them that it was time to move out.  The group individually gathered their things and behaved as if they are ready to flee at any moment’s notice.  Tintin said, “Kuya, aalis na rin kasi kami eh, darating na ang mga bus.”

“Kahit saglit lang… lunch tayo, magta-tanghali na rin eh” I argued my case, albeit futilely, as the members piled away one after the other until only one was left.

“Huwag ka muna aalis ha,” I implored.

“Sige kuya, pagbibigyan kita ng sandali.”

We introduced ourselves to the other, she said she was Ruby.  I don’t know if that was her real name or simply the most convenient one to use at that time, as it was the name of the latest typhoon to hit the country.

Ruby was brimming with nervous energy.  If she was with her peers, I would think that she would be the most bubbly and talkative.

“Sorry kung nagulat ko kayo ha,” I tried to break the nervous tension between us, “Kahit naman ako kapag may lalapit sa aking malaking mama, matatakot din ako.”

“Actually!” she acknowledged merrily, “Don’t talk to strangers, sabi nga nila.”

After an exchange of banter, I decided to go for it: “Gaano katagal ka na sa ganitong trabaho?”

“Mag wa-wan year na din.”

“Paano ka naman napasok sa ganitong work?”

“Actually, sapalaran lang talaga kuya.  Sugal lang.”

Her answer gave me hope, so I probed:  “Saang probinsya ka ba galing?

“Ako?  Sa Mindanao ako.  Yuck, ang layo ng pinaggalingan ko.  Nakakahiya,” her eyes breaking contact with mine.

“Wala namang nakakahiya doon,” I sensed I needed to say something relatable to her so that I don’t lose her completely.  “Yung mga kamag-anak ko nga at mga ninuno ko sa father side ko mga taga-doon eh.”  And I tried to explain my tenuous link to her place of origin.

“Saan ka ba umuuwi dito?”

“Sa Fairview.”

“So doon ka rin pumapasok?,” I had to ask.

“Uhhhm… actually sa TESDA lang ako, kuya.  Basic haircut at nail care lang.”

“Okay naman yun ah, madali ka nga makakapasok ng trabaho dun eh,” I assured her.

“Mag-iipon lang ako kuya ng pera tapos mag-aaral ulit ako.”

“Ayos yan!  Ano bang course ang gusto mo?”

“Siyempre, mass com di ba?”

“Magkano ba kinikita mo sa isang araw?”

“Depende kuya, five pesos lang sa amin kada supot na maibenta.”

“So nauubos mo yang dala mo?”

“Minsan oo, minsan din hindi.  Kapag may bumili kasi isang pasahero, nagsu-sunod sunod na ang bumibili.”

“Saan niyo naman kinukuha yung mga ibinebenta ninyo?”

“Uhhmmm… may supplier kaming pinagkukunan.”

I  knew I was on to something here: “Taga-saan yung kinukunan niyo?”

“Sa Fairview.”

“So paano ka naman napasok sa ganitong trabaho, eh sabi mo taga-Mindanao ka, may nag-imbita ba sa iyo?”

“Ehhh… kuya naman eh.  Di ba sapalaran nga?”

“May nakapagsabi sa akin na karamihan daw ng mga nagbebentang gaya niyo ay taga-Mindanao daw, totoo ba ‘yon?”

I may have pushed it too far, “Si kuya naman eh, ang daming tanong,” Ruby said as she began to gather her things.

“Huwag ka muna sumakay, mag-lunch muna tayo,” pointing at the Jollibee store just across the flyover.

“Hindi na kuya,” as she rummaged through her bag to pull one small plastic pouch containing macapuno balls, which she quickly dumped into my hands, “Sa iyo na ito, kuya.  Papasko ko sa ‘yo.”

Before I can even manage to return the gift, or at least pull out a bill to pay for it, Ruby was fast walking away.  No bus had arrived yet.

…..

Going directly to the subjects was not working.  I decided to employ a strategy that has paid great dividends to the Filipino on so many occasions – the padrino.  I have befriended Dhaica, a ticket teller and all around manager at the JAM bus terminal at Kamias, along EDSA.  She is in her mid-twenties, bespectacled, and had an easy smile that makes her look warm and approachable.  She has had extended, and sometimes intimate conversations with the young vendors, something that I hoped I would also have with them.

                Her first attempt to persuade them into granting me an interview was met with, “Nahihiya kami ate, eh.”  When she asked if she could get their cell phone numbers instead, she was told that no one had a cell phone.

The next time she approached them, they simply stopped talking to her and proceeded to leave one after the other.

DISCUSSION AND ANALYSIS

Dramaturgical Perspective

Erving Goffman’s dramaturgical perspective suggests that society is but a multitude of people playing different roles, depending on who they are with and the circumstances that they are under at a particular moment.  Under this lens, I will try to break down this research into the key elements of drama: Setting and Staging, Characters and Actors, Plot, Props and Costume, and Audience.

A.      Setting and Staging

Drama, art imitating life, can blur the line between reality and make believe.  This ambiguous gap precisely allows individuals to use every corner of the street, including the vehicles that travel over them and ferry unsuspecting players to their intended destination, as a stage to draw out, influence and manipulate the desired emotion and, ultimately, the desired product – the donation, alms or purchase that the primary actor and director of the drama will use to tide himself and his loved ones in his real world setting.   In such cases, it is the principal actor that decides the perfect time and most opportune location to stage his drama.

B.      Characters and Actors

When a young child makes a sad face, lowers his shoulders, and extends an open palm, he is consciously playing a downtrodden character, trying to catch the attention of a random character, and drawing from this person’s consciousness  benevolence and a found willingness to help, which, then, effectively transforms him/her into the unwitting hero in the unfolding secret drama.  Before this scene materialized and enveloped the latter into the story, this unsuspecting actor was a real person lost in his genuine thoughts and concerns, travelling into a real destination, with a real purpose for doing so. 

C.      Plot

In almost all street dramas, the storyline is rather simple and predictable: a person plays the classic damsel in distress character in search of a gallant hero and rescuer among the throng of complete strangers.  The conflict occurs when the emerging hero struggles internally whether to risk getting involved or to simply ignore the plea for help.   The final act or resolution happens when the heroic nature of the unintended actor surfaces and bestows the damsel in distress what he/she wants in the form of coins or small bills.  When the rescued person voices his/her appreciation, the curtain closes, and the instigator of it all searches for a new stage, to enact the same story and exact the same result.

The damsel in distress storyline can permutate into other more complex versions, such as a grandfather braving the pollution and dangers of the streets to ask help for his grandchildren either abandoned by their parents or were separated from them by Yolanda, or the siege in Zamboanga, or bus workers illegally retrenched by a certain transport company for unionism or some unfair and socially unacceptable reason, or volunteers of NGOs who need public support for their medical missions in some impoverished area.

It is also crucial to the success of the drama that the storyline should have a strong sense of occasion to take advantage of prevailing social conditions, events or occurrences.

D.      Props and Costume

The currency of a good drama is believability.  While good acting is key, it is only one part of a required many.  The main actor should set the tone visually as drama is first and foremost an eye-spectacle.  If the actor is playing the beggar, he must dress the part and look dirty, with unkempt hair, soot and dirt-covered skin, dirty finger nails and tattered clothes.  If the actor can endure further discomfort, he may help his case by performing barefoot.

The actor must take precaution at things that may serve to ruin the look or dilute the drama that he is trying to create.  For instance, he must not be seen holding a cigarette, or gambling away his collection as this will discourage the would-be heroes from giving money.  Also, he must not be seen wearing or carrying anything that is expensive such as a branded cell phone, bag or pouch, which will create an impression on his audience that he is not actually in need of help or, worse, that he is a thief or robber waiting for the chance to flee with their valuables.

E.       Dialogue or Spiel

Whatever dialogue the main actor delivers need not be fresh, memorable or profound.  In fact, it should be quite the opposite, cobbled precisely so that it will sound familiar, relatable and most of all, easy to grasp as the performance takes no longer than a few minutes.  Any complexity to the story will invite the listener’s critical analysis, which is counter-intuitive as the main actor’s strategy is to appeal to the emotion, and not to the intellect -- the lesser the detail, the better for striking the right emotional chord.  “Pahingi po pambili ng pagkain,” “Pambaon sa eskwelahan,” “Pambili ng gamot,” “Abuloy sa patay,” are direct, concise and clear lines that talk expressively to the heart, which increases the probability of being rewarded with money.

F.       Audience

The nature of street performance in the context of this study is that, often, the audience does not realize it is witness to a show, let alone a party to it.  Because the drama that is unfolding focuses on raw emotion, it is best staged in an intimate setting, as opposed to a bigger venue with a larger crowd where the main actor will find it more difficult to connect, much less capture the attention of the audience.  This fleeting affinity between and among strangers makes it possible for the main actor to elicit the desired reaction and result in such a short time.

Also, as in a true stage play where actors derive inspiration, and sometimes even the variety of nuances to their performance from the reaction and interaction of the audience, the street performer would be able to tone down, amplify or exaggerate his act depending on the visual cues that he observes from his audience.  An expert actor with a trained eye, such as the teenager asking for “abuloy” for his dead father, probably observed that one jeepney passenger was clutching her belongings rather too tightly, adlibbed “Huwag po kayo matatakot sa akin,” which not only assuaged the anxious passenger but also encouraged the same to part ways with a few pesos from her wallet.

However, not unlike the crowd in a stage play, it is possible that the audience, or members of it, may not be amused, satisfied or pleased with the performance and they may voice their displeasure through hoots, verbal tirade, or the occasional shove.

SYMBOLIC INTERACTION

Victor Turner’s symbolic anthropology looks into the way people understand their surroundings, as well as the actions and utterances of the other members of the society (Scott Hudson, 2009).  Turner adds that symbols initiate action and are influences in inclining an individual or group to act in a certain way.   This study will look into the symbols, both material and lingual, to understand why certain images evoke certain reactions and actions, as explained by Turner.

The Student as a symbol of the Filipino dream

The Filipino society places great importance on the youth, as the oft quoted Jose Rizal saying goes, “Ang kabataan ang siyang pag-asa ng bayan.”  Which, in a nutshell, captures the heavy burden placed on the still fledgling shoulders of the young, and, consequently, the much larger responsibility placed on the parents and elders to ensure that their children will be capable, ready and equipped to continue the mantle of stewardship and leadership of the family, and the society at large when the right time comes.  And when we define a young person in such terms, we normally associate it with one in the process of acquiring an education – the student.

The premium on completing a college education is probably highest in our culture (David, 2002).  Professor Randy David intimates what his father would tell him when he was still young and studying, “We have no property to leave you, but a solid education will be your greatest inheritance.”  In simpler, more folksy term: Edukasyon lang ang maari naming ipamana sa iyo, which is basically the mantra in so many households barely eking out the means to send their children to school.

However, try as they might, many families still fail to send their children to school. While the government through the Department of Education offers free tuition in public schools, even the day to day cost of schooling is already too prohibitive for many.  This forces intrepid students to work their way to school as a self-supporting student.  As of 2010, there are some 216,000 working students in the country according to the Commission on Higher Education (Sembrano).

The student, thus, stands as the Filipino family’s symbol of hope, better future, and should the student finish schooling -- the highest achievement that a parent can ever imagine to reach.  A common rejoinder of many parents who have done this is, “Sa wakas, natapos na ang responsibilidad ko.”

It is this Filipino’s collective dream encapsulated in the young student that makes the self-supporting scholar such an attractive cover for the unscrupulous and disingenuous to lure unsuspecting donors/victims to money-making schemes.  While the research has neither confirmed nor debunked the youth bus vendors’ claim of being working students, the inconsistencies in their statements and the seeming secrecy in which they conduct their business, coupled with information provided by people whom they come in close contact with, as well as my observations and deductions have led me to believe that the “working student” image is merely a ploy to gain sympathy, even pity, and consequently the purchase that earns them their keep for the day.  In my view, there is an organized group that selects, trains, funds and mobilizes these youths.

It is imperative that anyone who wants to earn money using such cover should, first and foremost, look like a typical student to draw on the positive cultural regard and emotional affinity of Filipinos to the group.

                I asked friends how they see a typical college student and they responded with physical descriptions such as: malinis tignan, naka-jeans, shirt at sneakers or rubber shoes, nasa trend ang buhok, naka-wax ng konti ang buhok ng boys, habang naka-pusod naman ang mga girls, may backpack or maliit na sukbit na bag,  disenteng tignan, nerdy ang hitsura, di masyado palaayos.

When asked how they imagine a typical student’s demeanor in public, these answers were drawn: disenteng magsalita, firm and assertive (although some had opposing views: mayabang, maingay, boisterous especially when they are in a group), magalang, madaling lapitan, maayos.

I intentionally did not indicate the nature of my research to allow my respondents the freedom to picture out a person.  When I revealed the context of my research to one respondent and asked her if it would make any difference in her purchasing decision if the person claiming to be a student looked tough and talked rough, she said no, but qualified that she would be more open if this person was in uniform and had a proper ID to account for his personhood.

One respondent however refused to answer my query as she equated the activity to being judgmental, which, taken from a moral perspective, is not right.  But we make snap judgments of people all the time, and whether we are wrong or right is not really important because it is not a moral judgment we are making, but merely a reactive means as we navigate and make sense of our world in our day to day activities (Although research h shows that the snap judgment or the hunch or instinct is often more right than wrong).  We make snap decisions on which vacant seat to take in a public utility vehicle depending on the external appearance of the person we will be seated with, or which person we would ask directions from when we are lost in an unfamiliar place, or which random stranger we would buy goodies from inside a bus.  Malcolm Gladwell calls this ability, in his book Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking, as thin slicing, which is not actually based on random and senseless cues but on layers of previous experiences and acquired information which we access from our brain in literally, a blink of an eye, or the time it takes to see someone for the first time.

 The visual and auditory cues that alert an individual to a quick assessment of another person are critical to the success or failure of the vendor.  If the prospect can equate the vendor’s physical presence to an image of a student, he becomes more vulnerable and more open to the possibility of making a purchase, more so if he becomes convinced that the vendor is actually in it to sustain his schooling.  Too, that the vendors do look like the typical college student makes it easier for prospects to see a relative, friend and loved one in them, and even perhaps themselves when they were younger and still struggling to get by.

Symbolic language

The small paper that the “working student” distributes states in multi-colored ink (Retyped according to form):

Hi! I’m TIN-TIN, a self-supporting student knocking on your generous heart to please BUY my “SPECIAL DELICACIES” your single help would mean a lot for me to pursue my studies.

Thank you and God Bless.!

Price:

MACAPUNO/PASTILAS/OTAP: 20 EACH / 3 for 50

DRIED MANGOES: 50 EACH / 3 for 140

And another one goes:

Excuse me for a while,

Kindly open your heart with a sweet smile upon reading my letter.  I’m Anne a self supporting student knocking on your generous heart to please BUY my “SPECIAL DELICACIES” to support my studies and daily needs.

Thank you and God Bless!!

Pastillas / Macapuno / Otap: 20 each / 3 for 50

More blessings to come!!

Everything in the piece of paper is designed to soften the reader; from the choice of colors, neat layout and typography, and most specially the choice of words, which are designed to appeal to the emotion more than anything.

While most marketing strategies would normally involve describing the attributes and enumerating the benefits of the product being sold, or even the advantage of the product over its competition in terms of price, size or quality, these working youths employ none of this selling technique and instead go for sound bites that tug at the heart, which is brilliant by the way, because if logic is engaged then the prospect may just very well conclude that the products being offered, while relatively affordable, fill no pressing demand, or are not particularly of high quality – two solid and logical reasons not to make the purchase.

                Sound bites such as your help, generous heart, support studies and daily needs serve to crystallize the deep-seated personal and cultural desire of the Filipino to alleviate the plight of the country, and they find this in the symbolic nature of the student, which they are now obligated to shore up by buying the products being offered.

The Bus as a hostage den

The main strategy of the youth vendors is to capture the sentiments of prospective buyers, hijacking logic in favor of raw emotions.  The confines of the bus literally and figuratively turns this transaction into an emotional blackmail – a hostage taking in its own right, with ransom paid for in coins and loose bills that assure the payee that he/she is doing right by the social standard that looks so highly and is overly protective of the young student’s plight.

CONCLUSION

The streets of the big city are teeming with activity.  In a society where social inequality and injustice are common and, sadly, acknowledged as a normal part of day to day living, city streets are literally transformed into a concrete jungle where rules are drawn by the powerful, and those with less human capital and agency try to tilt the odds in their favor by employing strategies that require guile, cunning and some sleight of hand, so to speak.

The “street performers” mentioned in this study comprise a rich treasure trove of untapped and misguided talents, which may be put to better use under more favorable conditions – say, a shift in government policy that actually addresses poverty by providing an honest-to-goodness educational policy that takes into account that education cannot be sized or designed to fit all, or bold moves by educational institutions, particularly those with the deepest resources and widest influence, to offer scholarships not only to those who have shown academic competence but also to those who have proven to be determined and resilient even in the face of extreme adversity or poverty.  That is where the country can develop real leaders, with a deep and genuine understanding of what it takes to literally rise from the ashes.

That otherwise intelligent and diligent youths will allow themselves to be involved in gimmickry and disingenuity should not be taken as a degradation of the moral fabric of society but a clear sign that there are simply not enough opportunities to give these young impressionable minds to grow and prosper in more socially-accepted terms.  Ruby may not actually be a self-supporting student as she claims to be, but I believe that when she said, in no uncertain terms, “Siempre, masscom di ba?” that she has a sure dream and a real goal.  The only question is, can she be given the opportunity to pursue it?

This study, which partly focuses on youths pretending to be students, should also be taken as a commentary on many of today’s youths seeming disregard for the opportunities afforded them, privileged them.  It’s a supreme irony that those who are not real students pretend to be one, and those that are real students behave like they are not.

Still, I believe in Rizal’s saying that the youth is the hope of the future.  This research succeeds in pointing out that society will protect and uphold the student as the symbol of ultimate deliverance from material, intellectual and psychic poverty, even going as far as suspending judgment and logic, and bending some restrictions to ensure such ideal.  It is only when the bus emerges from the terminal that vendors of peanuts, softdrinks and assorted snacks are allowed to board and sell.  But only the “working students” are privileged to lounge inside the terminal waiting area, and board parked buses  at any time they please.  And while “street performers” have to contend with ridicule, scorn and spite to earn their keep, the “working students” are met with compassion, respect and, for those who doubt the genuineness of their character – tolerance.

This is the reality in the street.

REFERENCES:

Crossman, A. (n.d.). About Education: Dramaturgical Perspective. Retrieved from Sociology.about.com: http://sociology.about.com/od/D_Index/g/Dramaturgical-Perspective.htm

David, R. S. (2002). Nation, Self and Citizenship. Quezon City: UP Press.

Gladwell, M. (2005). Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking. New York: Back Bay Books.

Scott Hudson, C. S. (2009). Anthropological Theories. Retrieved from The University of Alabama Department of Anthropology: http://anthropology.ua.edu/cultures/cultures.php?culture=Symbolic%20and%20Interpretive%20Anthropologies

Sembrano, B. (n.d.). Only half of working students finish college: CHED. Retrieved from abs-cbnnews.lifestyle: www.abs-cbnnews.com

Turner, V. (1975). Symbolic Studies. Annual Reiew of Anthropology , 145-161.

Educating for creativity: A right brain perspective

Educating the creative workforce: new directions for twenty-first century schooling is a journal article which appeared in the British Educational Research Journal in 2008. While this article may seem a bit dated, its contention: are we providing today’s children with education that is adaptive and responsive to the rapidly shifting needs of the times?, remains timely, if not more crucial than ever, given that this issue is largely ignored, or is rarely tackled in depth and in earnest in the realm of education.

So how does Erica William and Sandra Haukka, the article’s authors, describe today’s workplace?  For one, where knowledge base and skill sets were once a priority, creativity in terms of finding solutions, ability to absorb setbacks, and the talent to think on the fly, is now the coveted trait. 

The article cites a Harvard Business Review outlook that a company’s most important asset is creative capital, an arsenal of creative thinkers whose ideas can be turned into valuable products and services.

Daniel Pink, author of A Whole New Mind (2005), puts a monetary value to the creative industry: $6.1 trillion dollars over the next 15 years, or until 2020.  Pink further explains that the world is moving from the Information Age where knowledge workers are highly valued, to the Conceptual Age in which creators and workers with high concept/high touch aptitudes will be most valued as “creative” human capital.

Creativity at work

In real workplace settings, creativity in action may very well be the difference between closing or botching a deal, solving or prolonging, or worse exacerbating a workplace impasse, or satisfying or turning off a customer.  And we are not even talking about the creative individual’s power to think of new products, innovate old ones, or completely introduce a whole new line of products, even a market segment that was never there before.  The automobile, when first introduced was laughed at and ridiculed as critics called it an elaborate and expensive replacement for a horse.  The visionary that Henry Ford was, increased the salary of his workers so that they could afford the cars that they were making, thus becoming the first moving ambassadors for automobile.  The rest, as the cliché goes, is history.

Critics, those who can’t see beyond what’s in front of them, have many things to say about things that were never there before.  Galileo lost his soul to eternal damnation when he tried to prove that the earth revolved around the sun, instead of the other way around.  Magellan and his men did not fall off a raging cliff when their ship ventured too far off to the horizon.  In fact, the horizon kept moving farther away as they sailed until they were able to circumnavigate the earth.  Of course, we know that Magellan lost his life along the way.  Critics said the TV can’t replace the radio in the center of the home, the personal computer won’t find two buyers, the MP3 won’t be a popular format for music because it compromises on the quality of sound, the iPad is not going to fly because it is neither a cellphone, a computer or a laptop, or that Anne Curtis cannot carry a tune. 

Creativity is not just about making new things, or being an artist, for that matter.  It is, more importantly, also about the resilience and fortitude to ignore critics to push for what one truly believes in; and when things don’t work out as planned, the ability to treat failure as merely a reason to look for another solution, or another pursuit to think about.

Everyone is born with the capacity for creative thinking.  Then he goes to school.

Left brain rules

The first thing that I learned in school was what a line was and what it was all about.  First, the line ensures that students can move from one place to another without unnecessarily bumping into one another, or tripping on a potted plant along the way.  Secondly, it is useful in guiding students how to write neatly on a sheet of paper.  Before I became a student, I was happy to move as I pleased, sometimes running, at times hopping, but often with no specific direction in mind.  And when I drew (I didn’t know how to write then), I blissfully ignored lines, or any conventions on what a writing material was.  I did not discriminate whether it was plain paper, book, leaves, dirt, or random objects in our house, where I discovered that pencils and crayons worked better on wood panels than chalk did, which worked best on concrete, but not on slick tiles or metal, which was perfect for marking pen and paint.

It is also in school where I learned that one notebook corresponded to one subject.  I initially thought that there was such a thing as a lucky notebook for the day.  To a teacher who was an expert on lines, I was a severely disorganized student.  To someone with a broader perspective and a more patient disposition, I was a freethinker in training.  Unfortunately, that kind of thinking is almost non-existent especially in the early grades.

High school was no better in fostering a creative mind and personality, at least in my school where most of the teachers, including my mother, had a reputation for being strict and rigid.  I distinctly recall in my practical arts class when we were assigned to make a design for a house, first on a sheet of paper, which we will then construct scaled-to-size in 3-D.  It was a major project, one that I was, uncharacteristically excited to do.  I have never seen a honeycomb before but, for some reason, I was determined to make every room in my house a hexagon, which meant that it was never going to look like any house whether from the inside or out.  I can still remember Mr Navarro’s bushy mustache quiver as he said in his deep, grovelly voice, “Ay pagkahirap gang kwentahin  ng materyales nyang bahay mo.  Ay gumawa ka ng iba.”  And so I did, a square house, with three square bedrooms, just like everybody else’s.  It’s not as if Mr Navarro was curtailing our ambitions.  If we wanted a grander house, then we could just make more and larger square rooms.  But that was not my ambition.

I finished high school with a reputation as that student who was good in sports, drawing, spelling and mischief.  I was the most intelligent student never to have made it on the honor’s list.  To my teachers, I was a major waste of talent.

How today’s learners learn

Today’s creative student can be as easily distracted and defiant of structure in the classroom, if not more so.  But that should not be taken against them given that that is how their environment has shaped their learning tendencies to be, but as a wakeup call for the educational system to really see learning from the perspective and milieu of the learners, and not from a traditional point of view trying to force teaching approaches that are increasingly getting dated with every app being introduced in the digital sphere.  The paper talked about today’s children’s learning environment, calling such system as the knowledge ecology, which consists of blogs, wiki sites, and other sources of instant links to knowledge including those shared on social media, which the learners curate for themselves without much prodding.  Educators thus should not treat the classroom as the Pandora’s box of learning because today’s learners have discovered their own, and it’s up to the teacher to tap into this inner learning drive so that he may be able to add depth, clarity and direction to all these available information.

I consider myself lucky that I survived 16 years of schooling with my creativity, and belief in myself and what I can do intact.  How did I do it?  By not taking school seriously.  Seriously.

Right brain or left brain, versus or and?

Though I am now a graduate student, a serious and committed one, I still often feel like an outsider looking in.  In class discussions, while classmates lucidly and calmly speak what’s on their mind in clear, measured tones, I often find myself speaking rather too passionately, using words that describe not only what I think but also how I feel.  That is also how I write. 

My first course in my first semester was Development and Learning under Dr. Koo, and I was, for obvious reasons, anxious to turn in my very first paper.  I only knew two things about academic writing for graduate school then.  First is that I haven’t done one.  And second is that I should not, under any circumstance, use profane language.  Before the paper on bullying was submitted, I asked a classmate if we could exchange outputs which she, with some hesitation, obliged.  Reading her paper, I was thoroughly impressed and utterly nervous for my work; her writing style was exactly the opposite of mine.  It was concise, organized and authoritative, like an expert wrote it, whereas mine was chatty -- drifting from one idea to another like a Quentin Tarantino movie, and had a tone that alternated between cocky, docile, authoritative and speculative.   She cited empirical evidences, used jargon and tidy words, and quoted big names.   I hinted on the Bible and accused Cain and the Pharaohs of Egypt as bullies.  I relied on anecdotes, some heart-breaking, others hilarious but all true, and strung together words that were raw and colorful, such as crackling knuckles, brisk action and zig and zag.  I also introduced a total unknown – Julius Yago, whom I considered as on top of the bully food chain in my time. 

I praised my classmate for her work and told her it was like reading a well-written academic book.  And she praised me for mine, saying that it was a fun read, and that she could hear my voice in the narrative.  I was not sure if that was a proper compliment for an academic paper.

After two weeks, Dr Koo was ready to return all the papers.  Before she did, she announced the best ones.  My friend’s was one, another was mine.  So what’s the point here?  That both left-brained and right-brained person can both do well on the same task, even while using different approaches.  The problem here is not every student can have a Dr Koo to appreciate both sides.  How many teachers will tell students that there should be a specific way of saying something? Or doing something?

Neon-lighted learning

As we were doing our research on the theses and dissertations compilation and began reading into some of them, which are by the way rich in information, logically written and deeply researched, one thing stood out in my mind:  these brilliant books are written in such a dry, dull and boring prose, no wonder then that they are gathering dust. 

When knowledge is treated as some holy relic, sanitized and bereft of excitement, and yet still expected to attract knowledge pilgrims just because they are valuable, then education is built on an outdated premise.  For me, knowledge should be treated like a commodity, an exciting one.  Most of today’s students try to learn only what they think they can use in their lives, they have no time for boring stuff, no matter how valuable that knowledge is.  Education should compete for attention, not merely demand for it.

Right brain rights

So how do I see an education fit for developing creativity in every student?  Though it would be a more exciting proposition for the creative types, I don’t see any urgency in adding more arts and humanity subjects to the general curriculum as this may only serve to reinforce the stereotype of the brooding-weird-artsy-fartsy-dreamer affixed to the creative type, which, then, reduces the right-brain learner into a caricature -- trivializing the matter all together.

What I see is an educational system not dependent on structures and standards; where teachers are trusted to facilitate and deepen learning, nurture self-reliance and prioritize learning goals over performance goals.  Carol Dweck, a noted brain researcher, argues that students who strive to look for different strategies and options are also more resilient, active and positive compared with performance goal oriented ones who shy away from challenging situations in fear of failing.  For the latter group, the battle cry is: If you can’t look smart, then try not to look dumb.  They become their worst critics.  And as I mentioned earlier, critics don’t see beyond what is in front of them.

I want to see teachers who are more relaxed, and not afraid to admit that there are a lot of things that they don’t know, so that students will realize that the learning process is not a one-way, dead-end street, but a busy thoroughfare with an infinite network of possibilities.

I want to see the heavily-crendentialized teaching profession opened to those who did not take up education or haven’t gone to graduate school, but have proven themselves in their chosen domain, and are willing to share what they so richly gained over the years.  They will bring the real world inside the classroom.  Let us not fool ourselves into believing that a 3-day seminar, or semester or two in graduate school can duplicate, let alone approximate the wealth of knowledge and experience the practitioner can bring to the teaching table.  One thing is sure, if the practitioner hears the calling to teach, it is not the sound of cash register making that persistent noise.

I want rubrics to be thrown away or at least modified to include the creative process, the overcoming of challenges, the discovery of realizations and breakthroughs no matter how big, small, trivial or inconsequential they may seem to others – they matter to the student and his learning.  This is heavily reliant on the teacher’s subjectivity, I know, but then didn’t I say that I want a system where the teacher is trusted to do the right thing?

Sure, we can make life better, easier and more convenient by doing the same things over and over again, and then we can convince ourselves that the security of our comfort zone is actually the reward of moving forward.  But if we genuinely want to create an environment where our children can learn, be creative and ready for the world, then we should be prepared to overhaul our mindset, and the way we dispense education inside our classrooms.  It is only when we dare to say, think and do something new can we really, truly, say that we are changing the world.

This is an article I wrote for Issues and Trends in Educational Psychology, for my graduate studies at UP Diliman.