Monthly Archives: October 2013

Halloween Topiary














I grew up in a low-candy household, so when I was a kid, October 31st was my chance to stock up for the year. As fellow witches, ghosts and monsters dropped away one by one, I persevered alone carrying a heavy white pillowcase, trudging on until I achieved a self-imposed quota of sugary provisions. Months later, in the heat of an August day, lying on my bedroom floor desultorily reading an Archie comic, I would find a mass of dusty and melted candy forgotten underneath the bed.


The lessons learned?

Candy tastes really good. Scarcity makes things more appealing and desirable. Too much candy, after a while, doesn’t taste so good. A surfeit of that which is most desired siphons the magic away…Until months pass, autumn leaves turn, and the cycle continues anew.


I resolve to apply the following lessons learned from childhood to my teaching:

Don’t give out more than students want: “To teach well we need not say all we know, only what is useful for the pupil to hear”.

Make learning appealing and desirable (and fun).

Awaken others’ minds to the places where their knowledge is scarce (because that will make them want it even more).

In the end, the one who wants it most will trudge on after all others have had enough or given up.


There may be such a thing as too much Halloween candy, but there’s no such thing as too much knowledge.












The stages of group development can help us see where we’ve been, where we are, and where we’re heading


Why are some classes a pleasure to teach, while others test every skill and fragment of an instructor’s patience and fortitude? How can things seem to start off so well, and then proceed rapidly downhill? I have found it helpful to remind myself of the stages of group development as a rough heuristic for making sense of the classroom climate over the course of a semester.


Having a “big picture” sense of the terrain I am navigating with students gives me a general road map and guide. Where did we start, where are we now, and where do we want to go? These are the questions I am asking in reflecting on my teaching practice. The principles of group dynamics state that groups tend to progress through five specific stages in the process of developing cohesion and productive functioning:


  1. Forming: Getting to know each other, as people determine the degree to which there is safety in risk-taking. Groups that get stuck at this stage tend to remain at a superficial level, and there is minimal group cohesion and community. Keep challenging their assumptions and encourage students to step beyond their comfort zone in engaging with one another and with the course material.
  2. Storming: Characterized by interpersonal conflict, as group members test implicit and explicit norms and boundaries. This stage can really stretch our skills as we help the class navigate through rough waters. Hold steady. You (and they) will get through it. And pat yourself on the back for successfully supporting the class’s progress past Phase 1 – that’s not easy to do.
  3. Norming: Developing positive group norms, values and behaviours is the reward for getting through the conflict and challenges of the storming phase. As a community of learners, what values do we stand for? How do we enact them in the classroom? Guiding students to examine and internalize positive group norms shifts some of the heavy work from the instructor to the class.
  4. Performing: This is when it’s easy to remember why you are passionate about teaching. High functioning classrooms happen when students are committed to their own and others’ learning, and are willing to dig deep and make mistakes. Here is the laboratory where transformative learning happens. Congratulations, you earned it.
  5. Adjourning: Saying goodbye can be tough, and guiding the class through this transition means honouring and celebrating their collective experience and acknowledging that this is ending.

And then you get to start all over again!
















What do you collect when it comes to knowledge, skill and learning?


Our collections of knowledge are built over months, years and decades. We are all collectors of a singular miscellany of knowledge and skills. What is prized by one may not be assigned equal value by another. A quick example: I had a neighbor who did his doctoral thesis on medieval witch trials…in a specific region of Poland. (I think someone needs to do a doctoral thesis on doctoral theses).


Some people are intentional, assiduous collectors – their mind a perfect gallery. Some accumulate by chance and circumstance – a drawer of buttons and bits of string, but also containing rare and necessary objects.


Some learning costs us dearly and we value it accordingly: “This took me years to master.” When it costs nothing, when it’s effortless, do we assign a lesser value? (“It just comes naturally.”)


Some display their wealth of knowledge in opulent pride (which can be off-putting). Others hoard their wealth in private, only offering a rare glimpse or glimmer (which is intriguing). Who overestimates the value of what they’ve learned? Who underestimates it by far? Who suddenly changes their mind and their path and decides to start over?


The most prized collections are not easily achieved. Always alert for the dusty treasure in a forgotten corner. In the end what is amassed? An incalculable value.



Girl Crying Girl










Where does it hurt? That’s the key diagnostic question whether you’re a presenter or a clinician


A common clinical dilemma in counselling practice is when the practitioner is more invested in change than the client. This is manifested in clinicians working harder than their clients and caring more than they do about change. How and why does this happen?


I think this disproportionate effort stems from two things:

  1. Practitioners are trained to identify issues of concern and have a heightened awareness of the long-term implications and consequences of negative health behaviours.
  2. Because of their training and awareness, practitioners often feel that they know what is best for their clients.

The first point is helpful; the second…not so much.


It’s like the quotation:

“Advice is what we ask for when we already know the answer but wish we didn’t.”  In other words, people are the experts in their own lives.


So what does all this have to do with presentation secrets?

In a teaching context, the instructor – just like the clinician – is expert in his or her specific knowledge domain and strategies for internalizing and enacting knowledge and skills. It’s when we take the stance of “I know best” that we run into trouble in the classroom. All people (whether patients or students) are in charge of their own lives and actions; learning is volitional and learners will always be self-determining in what and how much is learned.


Here’s the secret:

Always start with the problem that the learner identifies as relevant and pressing. Affirm autonomy. Offer solutions in the spirit of collaborative problem-solving. Tailor the content to the real-world needs of the individuals with whom you are engaged.

How do you know if you’re doing it right? Hearing “Yes, but…” is the clue that you’ve gone off track. Figure out the pain point and offer ways to make it better. Then leave it up to the real experts: the people you are entrusted to serve.



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