From the article, "Teaching Learners to be Self-Directed"

by Gerald Grow, Ph.D.
School of Journalism, Media & Graphic Arts
Florida A&M University
Tallahassee, FL 32307 USA

available at: http://www.longleaf.net/ggrow

The Problem of Defining Self-Direction

Brookfield, (1986), Candy (1987), and Gerstner (1987) have devoted more than a thousand pages to analyzing the meaning(s) of self-directed learning.3 Yet, in spite of its complexities, self-directed learning remains the North Pole of adult education and nearly everyone manages to set their compasses by it. Few people have ever defined self-directed learning with precision; and even when they do, its meaning unexpectedly shifts to a new location. Nonetheless, self-directed learning is an immensely useful concept for orienting oneself to education at all levels -- and any school kid can point in its direction.

Some features of self-direction are distinctly situational: few learners are equally motivated toward all subjects. Some features appear to be deep, familial, perhaps even genetic, traits of individual personalities--such as persistence. Self-directed learning is a good candidate for what the great cognitive psychologist Vygotsky called a "higher mental function" or "tool of thought" (1978, p. 126)--a mental "organ" developed over time through a particular history of social interaction, which can operate in any situation. Parts of SDL develop before the whole, yet the components do not necessarily combine--to paraphrase Vygotsky--into a constellated unity made of separately-developed parts. Some aspects of self-direction develop best in nurturing environments; others are nearly impossible to suppress. Some develop as the peak of Maslow's pyramid of needs; others are so essential to survival that they emerge almost before the self.

Faced with a concept like self-directed learning, one can either conclude that it appears messy merely because it has been inadequately defined, or one can realize that beneath all of our indispensable labels for basic human activities (e.g., "behavior," "perception," "thought," "experience," "communication") lie the roots of a similar complexity. The idea of self-directed learning continues to fascinate partly because it embraces so many credible inconsistencies. It sounds like people we know. And even though the fundamental terms have widely come into question -- whether there is a "self" that "directs" an "activity" called "learning," and what "education" has to do with all this (see Gerstner, especially)-- no other concept has superseded self-directed learning as a working idea.

Candy (1987) usefully distinguished three meanings of the term "self-directed learning:" autonomy as a personal quality; autodidaxy as learning outside formal instruction; and learner-control as (along with teacher-control) an essential consideration of formal instruction. In those terms, this article uses "self-directed learning" to refer to the degree of choice that learners have within an instructional situation. I would almost be happy to adopt the term "learner control," except that highly self-directed learners sometimes choose highly directive teachers. In this paper, "self-direction" retains some of its aura of undefined possibilities and appears as the open-ended opposite of "dependent" learning. Besides, this article is not about self-directed learning theory; it is about teaching. Specifically, it proposes a way teachers can be vigorously influential while empowering students toward greater autonomy.

Is self-direction a personal attribute that develops in stages, or is it a situational response? --It is both. Even though one's abilty to be a self-directed learner is ultimately (and sometimes strikingly) situational (depending, for example, on self-motivation in the specific learning situation), it is possible to learn how to learn, to learn how to see, to learn how to be, in ways that make one more self-directing in many areas of life. This conclusion goes against a widely-accepted position in the literature today, namely that self-direction is only "a situational attribute, an impermanent state of being dependent on the learner's competence, commitment, and confidence at a given moment in time" (Pratt, 1988, p. 162). Whether the difference in these two positions is one of substance or one of emphasis remains to be seen.

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Determining a Student's Degree of Self-Direction

The SSDL model does not contain any method for reliably ascertaining a student's degree of self-direction. This is a major weakness, but not a debilitating one.

Teachers using the model have confirmed to me that they, too, find it possible to make workable estimates of students' stages. From them, and from my experience, I've gathered some clues to look for when estimating a student's degree of self-direction:

  • Notice the student's level of motivation. Does he take assignments and run with them, or does he do the minimum, and in a perfunctory way? Does he come to class on time?
  • How well does the student perform when asked to take initiative in an assignment? Is she stopped by the first obstacle, or does she invent ways to continue? Can she explore a topic on her own, or does she always need a series of steps to follow?
  • Does the student participate in class discussions? Does he come prepared? Does he not only read the assignment, but actually learn from it, remember it, and make it his own?
  • How much detailed direction does this student require? Can she take a suggested extra credit assignment, develop it, and relate it to the course? Or does she insist on having everything spelled out--exactly what to do, when it is due, how many points it is worth?
  • How well does this student work with others on group projects? Can he take a project, define it, break it into tasks, schedule the tasks so that the group completes them, and finish the project on deadline, up to standard, and with an internal understanding of why it was important?
  • How much pressure does this student put on you (the teacher) to be an authority figure who dictates the learning cycle? To what extent does this student want to take charge of her own learning?
  • Can this student practice on his own to assimilate the skills necessary to the subject? Or does the practice have to be mandatory and directed?
  • In the case of a dependent learner, to what extent does the dependency result from a lack of skills (which he is learning), and to what extent does it result from a lack of interest, low confidence, low motivation, and discouragement?

     

More to come....

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Karate

For the past two years (as of early 1996), my son and I have taken a martial arts class together. Usually highly self-directed and independent, in this instance I have been a highly dependent learner--and the experience has given me some lessons in good Stage 1 teaching:

  • A person who is out of shape may not have the internal ability to choose good exercise. A period of submission to an expert teacher may be necessary before one can learn to design certain learning experiences for oneself--as in learning a musical instrument.
  • In our class, beginners always practice where they can see more advanced students doing the same thing. This modeling is highly effective. Perhaps schools should find ways of providing such modeling, instead of grouping children of the same age together.
  • In this school, students are encouraged to take a test (for a higher rank) only when the teacher feels confident that they are ready to pass it. They "test to pass." Some students take longer than others, but failure is almost unheard-of.
  • In good T1 style, advancement is tracked through a series of ranks (belts), so that students always know where they stand and what the next goal is. Also, feedback in class is frequent, objective, and task-specific.
  • As students advance, they begin to teach others. And while the practices are highly regimented, the higher forms encourage a good deal of individual freedom and initiative. Somehow, students gradually become more self-directing as they progress through this highly directed system.
  • Like some other martial arts, this class actually sets out to teach self-discipline, self-confidence, persistence, a non-defeatist attitude, personal qualities like kindness, and perceptual skills like awareness of one's surroundings and attunement to one's internal senses. These are important components of self-direction. I have been struck by how these attitides are physical as well as psychological. Paradoxically, as students learn to kill with their bare hands, they learn that they don't want to. And as students learn more ways to be dangerously powerful, they become gentler human beings.
  • I would like to see some university require all students to master a martial art--not only for self-defense but for the personal qualities it develops.

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A Different Idea about Teaching Stage 1 Learners

Hersey and Blanchard handle Stage 1 learners (low self-direction) in a detached, objective, efficient manner, with little personal interaction. It is almost a behaviorist mode.

 

When Ames and Ames adapted the Situational Leadership model, they advocated treating Stage 1 learners differently--with warmth, encouragement, and support. Ames and Ames seem to be saying that students at the bottom of this ladder need the most encouragement, the most motivating, the most enthusiasm from their teachers.

 

I don't know if one approach is best. Teaching at a historically Black university has exposed me to many teachers, and students, who agree more with Ames than with Hersey and Blanchard. It seems natural for many of my African American colleagues to teach with great personal warmth. And many of my least-independent students seem to expect that kind of warmth. Some are so accustomed to being encouraged that they actually seem to suffer, in a manner of speaking, from too much self-esteem--or at least from a self-esteem that is unconnected with personal achievement. I have had students who showed no shame at failing to perform, but took this cheerfully as if it was just another minor intrusion of an irrelevant world.

 

At this point, I can only identify one problem that arises when you try to replace the strict, objective Stage 1 teaching style with a warm and encouraging tone: Many students who have been accustomed to warmth, encouragement, and support appear to have become rather addicted to it. They expect it. They demand it. They demand that teachers bend over backwards for them, meet them 90% of the way, do work for them, forgive their slackness, and promote them whether they passed or not.

 

It is in this situation that a Stage 1 teacher can be effective, requiring immediate, definite performance by the student and evaluating it frequently. Awarding grades strictly on the basis of objective, measurable progress. Requiring that students accomplish clearly defined tasks that are within their ability, and holding them to the timeline and the standards of performance. Letting students know exactly where they stand at all times, in terms of what they have done and what they need to do.

 

Now this strictness can be combined with encouragement and motivation, but in Stage 1, everything depends upon the student actually doing the work. That is why so much Stage 1 learning takes place in the classroom, on the spot, under close supervision, step by step by step, until students are ready to move to material that demands greater self-direction.

 

There is a delicate balance between encouraging and requiring, motivating and demanding performance. The Stage 1 teacher must always stay on her side of the line and insist that students perform. Real achievement is essential to self-esteem.

 

Naturally, this can lead to problems of student resistance and subversion mentioned in the article. The best antidote I know to this is to give Stage 1 students things to do that are clearly meaningful, and which enable them to make a clear chart of their progress.

 

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