Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Today's journal was centered on an excerpt of a talk given by Michael Shermer at the 2006 TED meeting. Here's the link, for those interested in viewing (the excerpt I showed in class begins at the 9:00 minute marker) 
 http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/michael_shermer_on_believing_strange_things.html

I wrote the following writing prompts to the left of the slide on which the video played:


Watch and listen to the video and think about what you want to believe.

Can you hear the back-masked message?

What does this have to say about how susceptible we are to suggestion? 


So, if you haven't watched the video, here's a summary:

Shermer plays a section of "Stairway to Heaven" forward, then backward, then asks the audience to identify the "secret message," then displays the the text of the supposed "secret message" while replaying the section backwards again. 

Here's the first unsurprising news: The first time it played through backwards, my students couldn't understand it and took it as gibberish, but the second time through, they, like Shermer's TED audience, were able understand the words clearly. This, of course, makes Shermer's point that we look for patterns and once the sections of our brain that respond to sensory stimuli are "primed" we can rapidly build and cement patterns and meaning to that which is patternless and meaningless.

Here's the second unsurprising news: Many of the students had already heard the rumor that Zep's music was laced with secret Satanic messages and figured it was probably true.   In any case, the "believers" also couldn't understand the "words" at first, but when shown them were even more convinced of their initial belief. Alternatively, those who considered the whole thing a bunch of hooey had their beliefs confirmed as well.

So here's the interesting bit: The students who hadn't heard of either proposition became more convinced that Zep intentionally placed secret Satan-loving messages in their music after hearing the evidence that clearly showed how easily our brains our tricked. One young lady, who read her entry aloud, commented on how "scary" the presentation was and that she was now concerned about Satanists in the music industry. She was going to go home that evening and begin looking for ways to play her CDs backwards to look for more secret messages. In the discussion that ensued, I asked them to consider why we believe what we believe and why we are so easily taken in by these things. 

The answer, I discovered, was obvious when posed the following question: What is cooler, that Zep is a bunch of Satanists who are trying to convince the world to join them or that playing a record backward makes weird sounds and if we work a little, we can make whatever we want of them? 

Friday, April 3, 2009

I'm Doing My Job; I Can Tell by the Whining

I teach critical thinking. I want students to break out of the educational millworks they were placed in at the age of five. It's hard for them though, since it involves effort well beyond the multiple-choice world they are used to. These last few months have been especially painful for them since they want to simply keep providing book reports rather than conduct meaningful analyses of the literature they are reading. I have had a fair bit of success, but one bold and intelligent young lady wrote me an articulate and well argued response to the question: "How do these ideas [presented in the text] integrate into your schema?"

"Oh schema, how I still don't even know what this means. I could give you my Miss America response about how this taught me not to worry about everything. God has a plan for me or that patience is a virtue, but those are things one should already know. The meaning of [The Sundiata] to me was something I hear all the time at church so it wasn't something extremely new. What was new was the comment my mom said while she saw me sitting reading with the checklist in front of me. She simply said, 'Doesn't that take the joy out of reading" and everything clicked from there. Of course I hate reading, this is a punishment. I may find this material boring, but I believe I think that because I know that after I read I just have to write and write and analyze and make up some more stuff to write about it. This feeling can't really help my schema because I have the choice to do it or to fail, but I think it can help your schema. If one can't write for punishment [a rule I have; writing is a privilege], then why are you having us read for punishment? If I logged on to Facebook right now I could read multiple status's complaining about this, I can check my new texts which I know are about this, or I can go to the table in the morning and hear how no one even did it which shows that students do think of it that way. Yes, this may not be schema, but I know if it is taking the joy out of reading then when I become a teacher I want to make sure I'm not having my students hate to read. Maybe this is more of a rant, maybe it's because I am tired, or maybe it's a schema for my future."

She is a good writer and an excellent student, but one to whom until now learning has come easily because she is quick-witted and the assignments were simple. I wrote a response to her, as well as to another student who wondered as teens have for millenia, "why am I reading this old stuff?"

04/03/2009: Purposeful Reader's Checklist Africa Responses. I finally began digging into the bulk of your work and have received some excellent responses. I found one case of academic dishonesty, and another rambled pointelessly for several pages about nothing in particular; those both received 0/50 points. 

Another student stated that she didn't "fully understand how something that happened centuries ago [could] fit into [her] life somehow." For those who feel that way, I urge you to consider the following statement by S. I. Hayakawa, a former United States Senator from California:

"In a real sense, people who have read good literature have lived more than people who cannot or will not read. It is not true that we have only one life to live; if we can read, we can live as many more lives and as many kinds of lives as we wish." 

Furthermore, we are the only species on this planet who can do this. By not considering the lives, loves, joys, and pains of those prior generations, we do them a great disservice.

I also had a fairly articulate complaint that connected directly to my personal experience as a young man and young writer. The schema section of this young lady's submission was devoted to her assertion that analyzing literature takes the joy out of reading. I laughed when I read this because her words were my words many years ago. Because she was forthright, I returned with a forthright response. I transcribe it here for you since it may apply to many who were not so bold:

"Please bear in mind that I do no assign work out of some twisted sense of cruelty. Every checklist I assign, I must grade and comment on. I am obligated to make sure you are prepared to engage material regardless of your personal level of interest. If you begin to learn how writing is constructed on a deeper level than your natural talent for writing, you can then become a truly excellent writer, rather than simply a talented, glib, 10th grader. I know this because I was a self-absorbed 20-something writer who thought analyzing writing was pointless and joyless and there was nothing left to learn. My undergraduate English teacher, Ms. Pamela Schoenewaldt, jerked me up by the collar, gave me a few "B"s, and forced me to think. I make no pretentions about being your (or anyone's) Schoenewaldt, but I am committed to try, in spite of your persistent and predictable protestations."

I also would like you to consider my qualifications and efforts thus far. I have extensive background in the world: I'm roughly 30 years ahead of you and have extensive experience in written and spoken communication delivered in a wide variety of ways to a wide variety of audiences. I understand what you are feeling, not individually, but as an adolescent. One of the reasons I understand this is because I was an adolescent, I listen to and read adolescent spoken and written language, and I read a wide range of material about adolescents. I came into this field because I have something to offer you, although I cannot make you believe me. I can ask you to trust me. I am not your enemy; I am your coach, and I want you to keep doing crunches and taking laps until you can write and read like a pro. 

If you've made it this far, you deserve to have access to the following thread: