Thursday, May 23, 2024

Thursday, May 23, 2024

  I had a challenging session with twenty-six-year-old S. When I asked her to use a strategy, she didn't do what I asked. I asked her why she did what she did. This was not a rhetorical question; it was literal. The difference is important, very important. Does she have difficulty understanding what I said? Is what I asked her to do too hard, and she tries to do something else?  Is this a psychological problem? Does she feel insulted by what I am asking her to do and simply refusing to do it? S is defensive.

   To communicate the work's objective, I asked her if she could tie a shoelace. There are reasons she may never have learned: her grandmother, who raised her, only bought shoes with Velcro fasteners, or no one bothered to teach her. She assumed I asked the question because I thought she was too stupid to know how to tie shoelaces. While I understand her dilemma, we must deal directly with the problem.

   S was put on Adderall at the age of four. She experienced an unusual, but not unheard of, side effect. She had seizures. The pediatric neurologist I got her to see just before she turned 18 explained that seizures reset the brain. That means anything she was taught during the day was erased whenever she had one. Very little ever went into her long-term memory.  She presented as 'stupid.' She was regarded as stupid by everyone in her life.  She saw herself that way.  What is true is that her skills are limited.  Life trained her to feel helpless.  Interpersonally, she presents as passive-aggressive. While I don't blame her, it severely blocks her learning. We have to deal with the psychological piece directly.  She needs to recover from the trauma of her life. 

     What S doesn't understand or doesn't trust is that I believe intelligence is largely taught.  Can I bring her to her full potential at conception? Unlikely, however, I have taught others the necessary skills to learn to read and comprehend.  S is unusually behind the eight-ball in terms of her life circumstances. But to help her, I need her to know what is blocking her each minute.  I will work to solve it.  Suppose it's neurological, meaning her learning or lack thereof is because of some problem in her brain other than lack of exposure to good teaching. It will take time in that case, but it can be done. My belief in the plasticity of the human mind is absolute.  If her problem is primarily emotional, that is more difficult to work with. That problem isn't rooted in the neocortex but in the limbic system. 

   I hounded her today, trying to convince her of my intent. (I do not promise anyone I can accomplish whatever they are hoping for; I've just worked with many students with severe problems and helped them.)    Why do I think I'm someone's best shot? Because my position on the learning process is rooted in the belief that intelligence is learned. 

  Coincidently, I encountered another retired teacher who also volunteers at Ulu Wini.  I told her that several of these kids cannot count by five. I noticed a lack of pattern recognition skills. J's reaction: how many of these kids are classified as special ed? My guess is she thinks they're all stupid.  Most teachers present material and leave it to the student to figure out how to learn it. If they can't, there's something wrong with them. That attitude drives me nuts! Students have to be taught how to learn. 

    Most teachers present information; they don't teach students how to learn. To teach students, you have to diagnose the learning problem and teach that. When I saw that second-grade MV didn't see patterns, I taught her how to do it. She successfully used pattern recognition to count by fives. Next, I have to see if she will apply it in an unfamiliar context.

   Many of the Marshallese children don't look for patterns. Why should they?  The Marshall Islands consist of twenty-four populated islands or atolls.  The capital has a population of 23,156. Sixteen of the remaining 23 islands or atolls have a population of under 500.  One island has a population of 75. People have lived in the exact location for generations. They encounter few new problems.  Everything is dictated by tradition.  A group like that doesn't need more than one or two people who can think strategically. They're the group's wise men and women. 

  In our modern lives, each of us must learn to solve problems. We constantly encounter novel situations for which our tradition-bound elders have no solutions.  We're all on our own in a world that presents us with something unfamiliar every day, whether technological or social. My heart aches for these people who lost their relatively peaceful lives because the US government thought their islands would be a convenient site to test nuclear bombs.  

  I'd say I long for that life, but I'm too mired in the modern world. I doubt I could live in such a limited environment.

   It was Ulu Wini day. No one came to work with me for a good fifteen minutes. I sat quietly at my table and worked on the updates. I thought I might have no one. Then, fifth-grade RM came over. She wanted more help with reading comprehension. We worked on a grade-level passage. I drew out of her what she thought the passage was about in general, then the details, and then how all these facts connected.

   A young boy, KP, whom I had never seen before, said he wanted to work with me. He said he didn't have much time; he had to go to his uncle's house. He calmly announced his mother had died.  Yes, he lived with his uncle. So sad that he referred to it as 'his uncle's house' instead of home. His sister stood by as he worked with me. He wanted to work on math. He didn't want me to help him with anything. He just wanted to show me what he could do. I encouraged him. Someone who thinks math is fun and his accomplishment a source of pride needs to be nurtured.  I gave him several sheets of paper so he could do more problems at home.

   First-grade JM wanted to work on reading today. She still struggled to recall the basic sight words, list 1-50. In the past, I worked with her on drilling exercises. That did some good, but she was still slow and struggling. Today, I asked her if she was figuring out each word. Yes. I worked on drilling the automatic processing: See the words in visual working memory, ask your long-term memory to tell you the word, pay attention to auditory working memory on the left side, and wait for 'your mind to tell you the word."   With the kids, I point to the part of the brain they should focus on rather than name it. I can appreciate why shifting from conscious to unconscious processing is difficult.  Good learners move back and forth as needed. It's a little like knowing when to use a spoon versus a fork. 

   Years ago, I taught the process of automatic recall to a fourth-grade student with Fetal Alcohol syndrome.  When she experienced it, she said, "I feel like I'm psychic." Yep. That's what it feels like. The words mysteriously pop into your head. Those of us who were taught by our parents or learned accidentally to move back and forth between the two processes before we got to school take the shifting for granted. Children who did not learn it from their elders or don't come across it by accident must be taught how to do it and supported as they learn to tolerate that shift.

   I grabbed second-grade MV for more math work. She stalled when transitioning from the double digits to the hundreds when counting by fives. I pushed her to count the two hundreds by fives. She didn't look at me like I was from Mars, but she still needed help. She told me her teachers noticed the difference. She was pleased with herself, as she should be. I was still waiting for her to approach me for help instead of having to track her down.