As a student of education, I have
recently taken a course in math education from a constructivist point of view,
that dramatically altered my thinking on how math ought to be taught to
elementary students. I have become
convinced through research and proven statistics that when children are taught
a formula for multiplying 2 digit numbers, for example, their minds, in a
sense, turn off, and they go through the motions of carrying and borrowing, and
arrive at a result that is hopefully to the teacher’s liking. The student, however, could never explain why
those particular steps were employed, and could certainly never do the
multiplying without a pencil and paper.
They are able to produce the results, however, and so all parties are
happy. This repeated ignorant
computation in all variety of math problems, however, invariably leads to the
child becoming one of thousands upon thousands who truly believe they are “bad
at math.” They are bad at math only
because they were never given the opportunity to really learn it.
When taking piano lessons students are
taught that particular symbols correspond to particular keys, and they learn
through memorization and lots and lots of practice to be able to see a
conglomeration of notes and spontaneously press each of the represented keys on
the piano, followed by more and more of these sequences making up an entire
musical piece. Often, however, the
student is not taught why those particular notes show up together so often, or
why certain notes never show up in a particular piece of music. They simply see symbols, and press
corresponding keys, like any competent robot would. If, however, the student is taught the whys
of it all, then they may be able to do more than simply see and regurgitate,
but they may be able to create. They may
be able to improvise. They may be able
to embellish.
When I was in middle school I joined a
girls basketball team and along with the onslaught of drama that accompanies
all activities with middle school girls, I was shortly introduced to
“plays.” We had a play for this and a
play for that. When the other team had
an exceptionally accurate 3-point shooter we would run one play and when the
score was close we had another. When
there was a fast point guard we would run these plays and when there was a tall
center we would run those. The problem
was, and I see this clearly now in hind sight, that the point of the game
became sticking to those plays. We
focused more on keeping to the code of the play than on getting the ball in the
net. Our team did not do very well, and
it was not for lack of effort. We didn’t
have the fundamentals of the game.
We like results and we like to get them
fast. We take shortcuts, and end up with
results that are fake and meaningless. I
believe we do this in teaching Christianity to children as well. We teach our children that a good Christian spends
time doing these things and not those, dresses this way and not that, goes to
that place and not this, says this word and not that one, and keeps company
with these people and avoids those. Now,
we may say that it is because we love God and want to please Him that we do
these things, but do we teach children to fall in love with God? Do we honestly love Him ourselves? Or are we just accomplished actors?
We like results and convince ourselves
that they must be evidence of something true, something authentic, but how
often are we merely artists using a “paint by number” canvas? If the fruit we produce is the point of it
all, then at some point we will realize that it is empty and pointless, and
certainly not fun. And we will probably
leave the church – or we’ll stay and be miserable.
So how do we teach the
fundamentals? What even are the fundamentals
of the faith, and can they even be taught? How does a child of God disciple another child
of God?
I deeply desire to grow in my
knowledge of these things. I think the
answer probably lies in the study of Jesus’ earthly ministry. Jesus was a teacher, and He was perfect. How did Jesus teach?
·
Jesus
shared His life with his pupils spending every waking moment with them, building
relationships with them. I have to ask
myself as a teacher, do I share my life with my students, or are they only receivers
of information to me? Do they know about
the experiences in my life that have led me to the convictions I now share with
them? Or do they assume I tell it to
them merely because it was told to me? Maybe
I do.
·
Jesus taught by example. He used every opportunity to show them truth and
live it before them. It’s one thing, as
a teacher, to say what you have rehearsed at home and written in your lesson
plan, but do I live it out when pandemonium erupts in the classroom?
·
Jesus used stories. I think we underestimate the value of a story
in western culture. Stories represent
life, and can tie concepts to reality in a way that no other form of pedagogy
can. I think we tend to be very good at
using Bible stories to teach children lessons, (a very good thing!), but how
often do we use stories from our own lives?
I think children benefit immensely from knowing about the inner
struggles and joys that authentic Christians experience as they walk through
life, and they only get this if we tell them our stories.
·
He used scripture constantly. Do relevant verses roll off my tongue when a
child tells me something that causes them fear or sadness? What about when children are arguing, or when
I am frustrated with the class for not listening? The word of God is powerful and
transformative, and I know that I all but completely neglect it’s usefulness
for teaching.
I want to think some more on this,
definitely study the teaching of Christ more closely. As I think about teaching my own children
someday, I want to grow in understanding of how to foster love in my children,
rather than to merely require loving actions.
