PEDAGOGICAL RUMINATIONS ON A RAINY SUNDAY AFTERNOON 

           When I teach a class as part of my university’s New Student Orientation or when I deliver a guest lecture in a First-Year Seminar, I often begin by asking the students, many of whom just graduated from high school, to complete this sentence, which I write on the board:

“I LEARN BEST BY ______   ____  _______.”

I invite them first to share their responses privately, one on one, with a classmate seated next to them.  After a couple of minutes I ask each student to share what the classmate reported about how he or she learns best.  Invariably I get a wide range of responses, all of which I record in an abbreviated form on the board.

Here are some samples responses:  “Mary learns best by taking notes and reviewing them regularly.”  “Johnny is a visual learner and learns best by seeing things outlined on a PowerPoint or written on the board.”  “Fran is a ‘hands on’ learner and enjoys a kinesthetic approach that allows touching and handling things.” “Lou learns best by researching a topic of interest either in the library or on the Internet.”  “Jill learns best by reading, underlining or highlighting key points, and reviewing them regularly.”  “Karl relishes listening to experts give lectures and pondering their points by himself when he goes home.” “Chris likes to discuss ideas with a roommate and learns best from participating in those informal chat sessions.”

I ask the students if one of the methods for learning listed on the board is better than another.  Most students reply that learning is an individual matter, and that one person’s method may be best for him or her but not necessarily best for another.  When I express surprise that no one completed the sentence exactly as I would have and that I believe my method trumps all of theirs, they invariably want to know how it is that Yours Truly (usually the only Harvard Ph.D. in the room) learns best.  I respond by asking them how we came up with the list of learning methods now recorded on the board.  They answer, “You asked us how we learn best.”  And I reply, “That is my answer:  I learn best by ASKING (GOOD) QUESTIONS.”

We then engage several minutes in discussing the importance of learning to ask (good) questions, no matter whether one is primarily a visual or kinesthetic learner, an avid reader or a quiet listener who prefer to sit unobtrusively in a corner.  I start the discussion with another question:  “What are some of the benefits you see in asking questions?”  Students respond variously:  “Asking questions allows you to participate actively and be more engaged in the topic.”  “Hopefully you can get immediate clarification of a point that you don’t understand.”  “The teacher gets to know you and how you think.”  “If you make asking questions a habit, you may sharpen your critical thinking skills.”  “Your peers likely have the same question, and they will respect you for having the courage to ask a question, the answer to which will benefit them too.” “Knowing how to ask questions may help you get a job or advance in your employment after you graduate.”

I ask, “If the benefits are so obvious, why is it so hard for students to ask questions?”  They respond:  “I’m afraid I’ll look stupid if I ask a question.”  “What if the other students laugh or make fun of my question?  Then I’ll be really embarrassed.”  “I worry that the professor will think I’m not prepared for class.”  “I don’t want to appear to be the one who doesn’t understand something; I prefer to go unnoticed.”

We then try to imagine two very scary scenarios and possible responses.  FIRST VERY SCARY SCENARIO:  “You ask the teacher a question.  In response everyone in the class starts laughing.”  A healthy response to that is to join in the laughter (and later try to figure out why everyone was laughing).  In other words, don’t take yourself so seriously and tell yourself that probably half of those who are laughing had the same question.  Also resolve to figure out how to ask good questions (see below).  SECOND VERY SCARY SCENARIO:  “You ask the professor a question, and he yells that he has never heard such a dumb question.”  I ask:  “What are the possible responses in the unlikely event that this latter scene occurs?”  Students respond that one may (re)act somewhere on the continuum of two extremes:  “The student bursts into tears and runs angrily from the classroom, never to return; OR, at the other extreme, the student stands his or her ground and defiantly states, ‘I’m still awaiting your answer.’”  Then we discuss the likelihood of a professor ridiculing a student in front of everyone.  If there’s been any pattern of ridicule, then the student may wish to report the professor to the teacher’s dean or provost or, at a minimum, save the question for a one-on-one meeting in the privacy of the professor’s office.

Next we go through an exercise that I thoroughly enjoy and that the students seem to get a kick out of.  Students divide into pairs and formulate one question per pair that they wish to ask of me.  In my experience their questions may include simple, close-ended ones that are easy to answer with a “yes,” “no,” or one word:  “Are you married?”  “Do you have children?”  “Is it true you were born in Arkansas?”  “Where did you go to graduate school?”  “How many languages have you studied?”  But often they include good, open-ended questions that cause me to stop and reflect before responding.  In the latter category are these:  “What is the hardest challenge you faced as a student and how did you deal with it?”  “What has been the most difficult experience of your life to date and what have you learned from it?”  “How do you turn a mistake or a failure into a learning experience?”  “What steps did you take to get to where you are professionally?”  “How do I learn to prioritize and set meaningful goals?”

As I respond to their questions, we engage in a discussion of why open-ended questions can catapult us into a higher level of thought and discourse.  We discuss how to fashion “open-ended” questions that foster extended or more thoughtful responses.  Even what appears to be a closed question (e.g., “Is it ever right to lie?”) may lead to an open question (e.g., “Think of a scenario when the moral thing to do is to lie.  What would that situation look like?”).  As students vie with each other to ask more thought-provoking questions, I challenge them to question my answers.  Almost immediately someone questions my position that the way I learn best (by asking [good] questions) is better than any of their ways.  This leads to a further refinement of my position, which is this:  “Asking questions need not replace your favorite method for learning, but it most assuredly can improve your take-away.”  If nothing else, learning to dialogue with (i.e., ask good questions of) one’s teachers, one’s peers, and one’s required readings can lead to greater understanding and accelerate the learning process.

On the internet one finds many useful articles relative to the need to learn to ask questions.  They sport titles such as “5 Reasons You Should Never Be Afraid to Ask Questions,” “How to Be Amazingly Good at Asking Questions,” “Ten Tips for Asking Good Questions,” “Learn to Ask Better Questions,” “Why Is It Important to Ask Hard Questions,” and “How to Ask a Difficult Question.”  While the readers of this blog may find such articles helpful, I wish to close by emphasizing one point:  ASKING GOOD QUESTIONS LEADS TO INSIGHTS AND PERSONAL REVELATIONS THAT ONE WOULD OTHERWISE LIKELY NOT EXPERIENCE; ASKING GOOD QUESTIONS ALSO LEADS ONE TO BECOME A “HIGH-IMPACT” PERSON, ONE WHO INFLUENCES PEOPLE AND ORGANIZATIONS IN DRAMATIC, POSITIVE, AND LASTING WAYS.

Post Scriptum:  What do I mean by “good questions”?  By that phrase I mean open-ended questions that ideally not only are sincere and meaningful to the questioner but also have the potential to deepen one’s understanding of a topic or to improve or enrich one’s own life or that of others.  One very personal example:  I was eight years old when my father was killed.  I began asking at that point such questions as these: “Why do bad things happen to good people?”  “What is the purpose of life or (what I later came to call) the human condition?”  “Why am I here?”  “In what direction am I headed and how do I get to where I want to go?”  “What is the role of education in helping me progress toward my goals?”  “How do I receive the best education?”  “How do I learn best?”  It was by asking and finding answers to such questions that I got to where I am.  I firmly believe that it will be by continuing to ask such good questions that I shall arrive at where I wish to end up.