A couple of weeks ago, when the whether turned ridiculously cold, I was on my way home from visiting with some teachers in a nearby city when I got a little lost.  My GPS went a bit screwy and started to send me in circles.  After going by the same gas station three times, I attempted to navigate as my forefathers had done—I stopped and asked directions. 

 

A helpful, older gentleman got me recalibrated, and pointed me in the right direction.  The route he suggested took me in front of a newly remodeled high school with a handful of sports practice fields on one side.  Though it was only 2 in the afternoon and barely twenty degrees outside, there were kids everywhere.  My first thought was that the school must have been having some sort of artic fire drill.  That’s when I heard a muffled explosion and a loud cheer from the kids on the field.

 

It turned out that these students were participating in their very own version of Pumkin Chunkin’—a competition where builders construct trebuchets, catapults, and air cannons to see who can launch pumpkins, gourds, and a variety of other edibles the furthest distance through the air.  The event was put on by a handful of science teachers and community members in order to build interest in physics, engineering, and problem solving—all of which are being emphasized in emerging curricular standards across the nation.

 

As I visited with the students, they kept talking about their teacher, Doctor Sylvester, and the learning activities that went on in his classes. They said that he was always demonstrating something potentially perilous to students and insisting that they would all ‘be safe as long as no one made any sudden movements.’  Even more interesting was how often it sounded like students got to be involved in these types of activities.  Pumpkin Chunkin’ seemed to be just one of a long list of activities used to get students excited and engaged in problem-solving.

 

The more I heard students talk, the more this teacher sounded like some sort of mad-scientist.  Every year Doctor Sylvester also rigs up an elaborate, musically-synchronized Christmas lights show up at his house.  People drive for miles from nearby towns and cities just to line up for a chance to park in his driveway and experience the seasonal spectacle. He also runs the music at school dances…which he enhanced with a laser-light show and a fog machine. 

 

It also turns out that the ‘Doctor’ in Doctor Sylvester’s name isn’t just an honorary title.  After working for a few years in the Computer Science field, he decided he wanted to be a teacher instead, so…he went out and got a PhD in Curriculum and Instruction.  His dissertation?  You guessed it—Problem-based Learning.

 

            This type of learning insists that all of education should involve either problem solving or preparation for problem solving (Delisle, 2004).  Instead of memorizing information, PBL presents students with a situation that leads to a problem and provides opportunities for students to assume the role of scientist, project manager or engineer. 

 

            Problem-based Learning originated in the medical field as a means for improving practitioners’ critical thinking and problem-solving abilities.  Barrows and Tamblyn (1996) summarized the process as follows:

 

1.                      The problem is encountered first in the learning sequence, before any preparation or study has occurred. 

 

2.                      The problem situation is presented to the student in the same way it would present itself in reality.

 

3.                      The student works with the problem in a manner that permits his ability to reason and apply knowledge to be challenged and evaluated, appropriate to his level of learning.

 

4.                      Needed areas of learning are identified in the process of work with the problem and used as a guide to individualized study.

 

5.                      The skills and knowledge acquired by this study are applied back to the problem, to evaluate the effectiveness of learning and to reinforce learning.

 

6.                      The learning that has occurred in work with the problem and in an individualized study is summarized and integrated into the student’s existing knowledge and skills (Barrows and Tamblyn 1980, pp. 191-192).

 

 

 

If Problem-based Learning is good enough for a life-saving profession like medicine, certainly it’s good enough for a life-changing one like education.  And it is not just science that should being infusing student learning with PBL. Language Arts, Social Studies, Math, and just about any other course can employ active learning strategies where students talk to each other, not through the teacher.  The result—teachers rely less on the text and more on learning…learning that fosters student independence and creativity (Delisle, 2004).   

 

 

 

A while ago, one of my sons came home with a box full of old rocketry supplies.  He said that his science teacher was going to throw it all out…since most of the equipment had been damaged by a plumbing leak in the storage area.  He sorted and sifted out the stuff that still looked useable, then loaded up a youtube video on how to hook up and launch a rocket.  We walked over to the school parking lot, and in less than an hour, he was ready to blow things sky-high.  At least he thought he was. 

 

 

 

            The rocket wouldn’t ignite.  But instead of getting frustrated, like many of us would, he started to troubleshoot.  He checked the batteries on the igniter.  He switched out the rocket engine.  He started checking each of the wires, connections, and contact points. After each adjustment, he would try it again.  Eventually, it worked.  The rocket blew hundreds of feet in the air, and floated awkwardly down to parking lot, probably due to the slightly molded, warped parachute hidden inside the body tube. 

 

 

 

He did this again, and again until he grew bored.  He finally asked if I could take him back home.  I assumed that he was done with rocketry for the day, and was surprised when he came back from his room with the ammunition from his BB gun.  When I asked him what he was up to, he explained that he was going to use the steel balls to make the rocket heavier and heavier to see how much thrust the engine actually has.  I wasn’t sure if I should be terrified or intrigued.   I went with the latter, and helped supervise his project.  Eventually, after four incremental adjustments to the weight of the rocket tube, the engine failed to lift the rocket.  But to my son, it wasn’t a failure—it was a success.

 

 

 

This is what a child’s brain does when teachers (and parents) have the courage to get out of the way…when we are willing to facilitate learning, rather than driving it.  We need more problem—and problem solving in schools.  The question isn’t IF we should be using PBL in schools.  The real question is why aren’t we using it more?

 

 

 

 

 

References

 

 

 

Barrows, H. S., & Tamblyn, R. M. (1996). Problem-based learning: An approach to Medical Education. New York, NY: Springer.

 

 

 

Delisle, R., & Association for Supervision and Curriculum Development. (2004). How to use problem-based learning in the classroom. Moorabbin, Vic: Hawker Brownlow Education.  

 

What can a professional jazz drummer and my dad's garage band possibly teach us about collaboration and leadership?

As a teenager, I was in a band. Well...technically, I was in the band. Anyone who has survived high school can tell you that there is a huge difference. Guys in a band get gigs, friends, and dates. Guys in the band--they get punched.

A couple of years ago, I was visiting my parents back west. As I was thumbing through one of my dad's old yearbooks I stumbled upon an old photo of him--or at least some younger, long-haired version of him--up on a stage. Hundreds of people seemed to be thronging around him and screaming. My dad appeared to be singing into a microphone, playing a keyboard, and had on an outfit that I have since tried very hard to forget. It turned out that my dad...was in a band.

I felt deceived. I had no idea that my 'old man' had ever been that cool. When I asked him about it, he just laughed it off; he insisted that neither he nor his buddies really knew how to play very well. But for some reason, people kept hiring them to play at parties and at dances.

At one point, they even saved up enough money to buy a used Ford Econo-Van. Using some cardboard cutouts and three cans of spray paint, they stenciled in the name of the band--The Exchequers--on the side. On weekends, they would 'tour' the surrounding states and play at dance halls and bars. I couldn't believe it. My conservative father--retired military chaplain and state delegate for the Republican Party--had been both a musician and a con man. It was almost too cool to be true.

For months afterwards, every time I spoke with my father, a single question nagged at me: just how did my father and his buddies pass themselves off as a band, despite--as they said--their "obvious lack of musical talent." One day, he finally shared with me the recipe for turning a garage band into something more...something that people were willing to pay and cheer for. Since that day, as I have presented around the country on educational leadership, organizational learning, and collaboration, I have repeatedly shared a number of these suggestive principles with educators. Below are three that seem particularly relevant in light of growing interest in teacher leadership and collaboration.

1) Diverse Skill Sets, Aligned to a Common Vision, Make Powerful Teams.
The way my dad tells it, The Exchequers were a hit largely because they shared a vision for creating music they were passionate about and each person in the band had something unique to offer to that shared vision. Danny could play a handful of chords on the rhythm guitar. Dean could do the same on the bass. Mike wasn't an experienced drummer, but he could keep a steady beat and wasn't afraid to improvise a solo every now and then. My dad couldn't read music, but he could sing a bit...and with patience, could figure out most songs on a keyboard by listening to them over and over on his turntable. What mattered is that they could commit to and share a "groove," the steady beat that opens the doors for creativity, innovation, and the human expression audiences want to experience.

Individually, none of them were worth listening to. But as an aggregate, they had something to offer that their audiences clearly loved. The same principle holds true in education. No individual teacher, no mater how talented, can help students reach their full potential. To do so requires strategic collaboration in teams--teams whose collective capacity and performance are dependent on what each individual brings to the table (Senge et al., 2012).

An effective team of educators is likely to have one exceptional teacher in the use of instructional technology, another in problem-based learning, a third in assessment, and so on. Such diversity in knowledge and skills results in teams that are more creative, innovative, and effective (Guzzo & Dickson, 1996; Levi, 2013). Imagine what a team of diverse talents could do when each member of the team works to develop personal mastery. The greater the level of mastery, the more every musician or teacher brings to the team, and ultimately, to their audience and students.

2) Trust and Rely Upon Others.
Successful musical groups are comprised of individuals who have learned, over time, to confidently rely upon each other. Conductor Charles Hazlewood, known around the world for invigorating classical pieces (and audiences) with modern flare, emphasizes the need for common goals and an unshakeable bond of trust. Such trust is the result of repeated opportunities to work with others in refining coordination, and consequently, anticipation of and reliance upon each other (De La Torre-Ruiz & Aragón-Correa, 2012).

In schools, teachers are often assigned to teams based on grade level, content area or some other perceived commonality. True teams, however, are developed--not designated (Bachmann & Zaheer, 2008). They happen much like music is made--more like an egg hatching or water boiling. You don't know exactly when the great moments will come, but you create an environment where they can happen.

Educators must therefore be provided with time and tools for regular, purposeful collaboration. As they collectively identify and confront challenges, holding nothing back and supporting each other as they take careful risks, each individual talent is unleashed and expertise becomes more apparent to the other team members--resulting in a more effective team and individual performance (Baumann & Bonner, 2004).

3) Maintain a Distinction Between Mistakes and Failure.
The only thing cooler than being in a band...is being the drummer in a band. Over the phone one day, Dad spoke of the awe that he and the other band members shared towards their drummer, Mike. They wondered what many of us have wondered--just what is it that allows an individual to be so uninhibited? How does a person get up on stage, pound away on so many different surfaces, and drive an entire performance without making mistakes?

A few years ago, I have had the opportunity to work with an educator who is also a professional jazz drummer. One night after my family and I watched him perform in concert, my seven-year-old son ran up to him and asked what I had always wanted to ask--"How do ya' do all that without messin' up?" The drummer just laughed, but went on to explain that drummers make mistakes all the time. He confided in us that, just half an hour earlier, he had performed several bars of music with just one hand because he had inadvertently dropped a drumstick. Then he said, "Mistakes are part of music, but it's how we react to those that make the difference." Think of that: mistakes are part of the music. In other words, without mistakes, there is no music. Just try listening to this robot play John Coltrane's solo on Giant Steps and you'll see what I mean. Accuracy is not necessarily music. Music, and education, is performed by humans, and therefore is prone to mistakes. Careful mistakes that are made when someone is "going for it" because they care are a lot different than careless mistakes made by a renegade who hasn't taken the time to develop any personal mastery.

Educators would be wise to adapt a similar mentality and to work to maintain a clear distinction between mistakes and failure. Error is an integral part of learning (Roediger & Finn, 2009). It is also a fundamental component of success in schools. Education is being asked to try out a number of new techniques, tools, and approaches. As a result, we are also making some new mistakes. The key is to make sure that we are learning from--and through--mistakes as we work to transform education.

Recently I put my father's "garage band advice" to the test in a presentation to an auditorium full of educators. I wanted to see if four seemingly average people including myself really could make some music worth listening to. So...I pulled three people from the crowd up on stage who had no musical experience and assigned each of them an "instrument" to play. A middle-aged science teacher blew a kazoo, a building principal with a comb-over played a cowbell, and a first year elementary teacher banged away on a coffee pot. In tribute to my father, I tried to play a bit of piano and did my best to sing along.

Up on stage, our makeshift 'band' fumbled our way through some of The Exchequers old dance songs like Wild Thing, Louie Louie, and Satisfaction. We didn't sound great, but after a couple of minutes, we weren't bad. We tried out new roles, we learned from our mistakes, and for a few moments, we felt like a band. The crowd even joined in on the chorus.

A vast majority of recent policy and press has focused on the need to raise expectations and performance in education (Obama, 2014). Whether our "performance" is up on stage with makeshift band or inside a school with developing teachers, the same principles hold true. Improving education requires regular opportunities for collaboration and trust building. It also requires schools to capitalize on the diverse skill sets.

Too often, educators look outside of their collective talent for someone or something to solve problems for them: If I implement this new software, this new program, this other district's way of doing things, it will make everything work better for us. Like musicians who never perform a song the same way each time, educators in different schools, districts, or regions, can't expect that what worked for someone else or some other school can be copied and pasted onto their situation to achieve the same results.

And like musicians who are influenced by the way they feel at the moment, the mood of the audience, the sound of the room, what they had for breakfast that morning, etc., educators have an infinite number of variables that are unique to their situation: student and parent dynamics, culture considerations, the collective mix of teachers' personalities, etc. The band on the stage and the educators at a site are the most intimately connected to the challenges at hand, and therefore the most able to find solutions to their own problems.

Musicians study the masters and the best recordings, but the band plays the music. The music can't happen if the band waits for something or someone else to create the music for them. They have to act, albeit with uncertainty. They never really know exactly what's going to happen when they start, but when they apply the principles we've been discussing, it works out. That doesn't sound exactly measureable--but like great music, not all great things can be measured or quantified. Otherwise, it's all practice and no art. We need the practice and the art-- but remember that audiences volunteer to experience art. In short, musicians and educators are more successful when they utilize their gifts and talents to learn to solve problems internally. Thus, above all, teachers must be granted the flexibility and freedom to experience and learn from mistakes. Only then will our schools ever really attain and experience success.

--Curtis Chandler

References

Bachmann, R., & Zaheer, A. (2008). Trust in inter-organizational relations. The Oxford Handbook of Inter-Organizational Relations, 533-54.

Baumann, M. R., & Bonner, B. L. (2004). The effects of variability and expectations on utilization of member expertise and group performance. Organizational Behavior and Human Decision Processes, 93(2), 89-101.

Bradbury-Huang, H., Lichtenstein, B., Carroll, J. S., & Senge, P. M. (2010). Relational Space: Creating a Context for Innovation in Collaborative Consortia.

De La Torre-Ruiz, J. M., & Aragón-Correa, J. A. (2012). Performance of newcomers in highly interdependent teams: the case of basketball teams. European Sport Management Quarterly, 12(3), 205-226.

Guzzo, R. A., & Dickson, M. W. (1996). Teams in organizations: Recent research on performance and effectiveness. Annual review of psychology, 47(1), 307-338.

Levi, D. (2013). Group dynamics for teams. SAGE Publications, Incorporated.

Obama, B. The White House, Office of the Press Secretary. (2014). Remarks by the president in state of union address, Washington, DC.

Roediger, H. L., & Finn, B. (2009). Getting it wrong: Surprising tips on how to learn. Scientific American.

Senge, P. M., Cambron-McCabe, N., Lucas, T., Smith, B., & Dutton, J. (2012). Schools That Learn (Updated and Revised): A Fifth Discipline Fieldbook for Educators, Parents, and Everyone Who Cares About Education. Random House Digital, Inc.