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# John Willison

The Models of Engaged Learning and Teaching Connecting Sophisticated Thinking from Early Childhood to PhD

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John Willison

# The Models of Engaged Learning and Teaching

Connecting Sophisticated Thinking from Early Childhood to PhD

John Willison The University of Adelaide Adelaide, SA, Australia

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# Preface

This book is about the Models of Engaged Learning and Teaching (or MELT for short), which fluidly connect to 100 years of educational research and 100,000 years of human learning and sophisticated thinking. The MELT are a family of models with an ancestry that shares common features and that necessarily evolve to fit new and emerging contexts. Because of their adaptability and shared features, the MELT have provided a way for teachers, academics, sessional and professional staff to bring together the years of education, from primary/elementary school education through to the middle years, high school, technical education, undergraduate, master's and doctoral study. This connection was evident, for example, when teachers, academics and professional staff from these contexts shared their adaptations and uses of the MELT at the International MELT conference in 2017 and especially through informal conversations about learning. Context-specific examples of MELT use are found throughout the book and associated website. The MELT may provide you with a way to deepen your understanding of the crucial role that you play in students' learning and where your work fits in the span of their educational experiences. Along with this insight, the MELT may also enable to you enhance the learning of students under your care.

These models, when used in concert, have helped teachers, academics, professional staff and especially students to make connections between different subjects and disciplines, from accounting to zoology, as well as transdisciplinary studies. Sophisticated thinking is not context-bound, but rather learned best in a variety of contexts, where connections between learning tasks may not be readily apparent but need to be made explicit not only to students but also to teachers in different contexts. The MELT also enable conversations between people with differing, sometimes polarised, educational philosophies—for example, between behaviourists employing Direct Instruction and social constructivists who employ discovery learning.

Polarised perspectives about learning were evident in my visit to a Pacific Island village community a few weeks ago. But the polarised perspectives I saw did not represent a tension but rather different points on a learning continuum, different ways through which students engaged in learning. Below, I recount that experience in a story called Place Value, which is set in two very different learning environments that existed in the village. In the first environment, there was a sense of fun and freedom for young children playing in a tree. In the other environment, an indoor classroom, the simplicity of the mathematical concept being presented belied the sophisticated thinking needed for the young children to learn the concept. This story is symbolic of the potential and tensions across formal education, representing as it does extremes in terms of students determining their own learning through play and involved in a teacher-directed lesson. These same tensions and potential are played out across formal and informal education and so the story sets the scene for you to grasp the breadth of learning and the breadth of the MELT.

Whatever your educational responsibility, as you read Place Value, consider this premise: the skills that the children demonstrated under the village tree and in the classroom are the same skills your students need and use on a daily basis, whether they are in primary/elementary school or conducting doctoral research. Regardless of educational level or subject area, good teaching always facilitates sophisticated thinking, but educational understanding strongly influences how and when this thinking is facilitated. Therefore this story is used in Chap. 2, along with stories from high school and university, to introduce the core characteristics of the MELT and illuminate connections of the MELT across years and contexts.

#### Place Value

While I swam in the ocean at the end of the tropical day, the children caught my attention as they played unsupervised under the spreading tree down by the shoreline. Their ages ranged from three to six years old. One child played with shells, one laid out a mat as if proffering items to sell, two were in different branches of the tree, one shook the branches, one just hung on, and two more were hidden from my view but darted into sight occasionally. Each seemed to occupy a separate world of play and exploration, of choosing what to do and where to do it. But despite these separate activities, all the children were within a radius of 6 metres, whether horizontally or vertically, and chattered in their mother tongue.

When I left the water at twilight, the children of the village who were over seven years old played volleyball on the sand and shell court, with an eight-year old officiating and making sure they adhered strictly to international rules.

The next day, I attended the Year 1/2 class in the primary school of the village and saw three of the children who had been playing in and under the tree the day before.

#### Preface ix

The children's play tree by the shore

A Pacific primary school in a village setting

The thirty-one children sat closely packed together on a Pacific Island i-TaliTali mat. The teacher began with some maths terminology and showed flash cards to the children.

Reading the card being held up by the teacher, Ms. Kristi, one child called out, 'Plus value'.

All the children chanted, 'Plus value, plus value'.

Ms. Kristi corrected 'Place value', and the children chanted, 'place value, place value'.

Referring to the concept of numeral position in a two-digit number, Ms. Kristi asked the students, 'Is place value on your right or on your left?'

'Left', called some children.

Then eight children were selected to go to the front and each took a number from a box and held it to their chest for all to see. Numbers chosen were 9, 41, 11, 57, 5, 17, 20 and 29.

Ms. Kristi asked these eight children to arrange themselves in increasing numerical order. They began to shuffle, reorder, pause, look at each other's numbers and shuffle some more until they stood in a straight line in the sequence '5, 9, 11, 41, 17, 20, 29, 57'. Guided by their teacher, who pointed to each number in turn, the children on the mat read the numbers in order from their right to left: 'five, nine, eleven, fourteen…'.

Ms. Kristi paused at this number and began, 'For…' and one student completed 'Forty-one'.

Ms. Kristi paused thoughtfully. Then she said, 'Let's move on' and resumed pointing.

The children called out 'Forty-one… seventeen… twenty… twenty-nine… fifty-seven'.

'Is it correct or not?' asked Ms. Kristi.

The children called in unison, 'Not', so Ms. Kristi asked, 'which number is incorrect? Not in the proper place?'

One girl standing in the sequence and holding '5' pointed to the fourth student and said, 'forty-one'.

'How do you know that forty-one should not stand here?'

The student did not answer. No student answered.

'So this forty-one should go where?'

Many children pointed to the next position up, so the teacher prompted forty-one and seventeen to shuffle and change places.

The sequence became: 5, 9, 11, 17, 41, 20, 29, 57.

'There. How do you know this forty-one should stand there?' No answer.

Ms. Kristi continued, 'Any other number is in the wrong place?'

'Twenty-nine', a student called out.

'Twenty-nine should go where?'

'Besides seventeen', one student called out, and the student with twenty-nine shuffled there, passing forty-one.

5, 9, 11, 17, 29, 41, 20, 57

'Any other number?'

'No', called students in unison.

'Are you sure?'

'Twenty!' a boy called out.

'Right. Where should it go?'

'Besides seventeen'.

'Very good. Let's read the numbers together'.

'Five… nine… eleven… seventeen… twenty… twenty-nine… forty-one… fifty-seven'.

'Very good'. The children, Ms. Kristi and I all clapped.

In Place Value we have three children learning in two vastly different ways in two very different spaces. Under, in and near the tree, they were unsupervised, chose what to do and had their own sense of place. Their learning through play was in keeping with various forms of discovery learning, and in tune with social constructivist thinking. In the classroom, they followed prescribed instructions with an activity that ultimately had right or wrong answers and was placed culturally and physically on the Pacific Island mat, made through the weaving process called i-Talitali. The mathematics learning was in keeping with Direct Instruction, where students are primarily acquiring the canon of maths, fitting in with objectivist thinking. In both activities, there was evidence of highly sophisticated learning: in the classroom where the learning objectives were pre-determined by the teacher; and near the tree, with curiosity-driven learning and no thought to objectives or outcomes. Which form of learning is more important, more relevant or more enabling?

Your own answer to that question will say a lot about your educational philosophy. As far as the MELT are concerned, the answer is that both are valuable, relevant and mutually enabling. I hope some readers of this book are oriented to Direct Instruction and didactic learning, some align with discovery learning, that some are somewhere between, and some see the whole thing as a continuum. That's not to shift you from your position—I'm sure it is well considered and based on a good rationale. But when you talk to educators with other perspectives, you may find that the MELT enables you to have more sensible, more formative, more complementary conversations than you have had in the past, and that disconnected aspects of education may become more connected.

The MELT rationale is that all enduring educational theories and practices usefully inform education and when they connect as a complementary set, this will provide a richer learning environment for students. In Place Value, for example, the teacher was guiding the students towards specific, correct answers about numbers in a sequence. However, she did this in a Socratic fashion and elicited many responses and thoughts from students, some of whom were demonstrably constructing ideas individually or socially. Was the teacher correct to provide an approach which required students to engage in the construction of 'right-or-wrong' knowledge? From a purist theoretical perspective, this approach maybe counterproductive because of the clash between a constructivist paradigm and an objectivist one. For instance, from an objectivist perspective, if students constructed an incorrect understanding of place value, this would have negative implications for their enduring engagement with maths. From a constructivist perspective, if students were corrected on an answer that they volunteered in good faith, this could be counterproductive to their ongoing confidence and willingness to engage in learning. But from the pragmatic perspective of the MELT, a 'bricolage', a blending of what works, is not only possible, but desirable, providing that teachers understand what they are trying to achieve, how they will achieve it and especially know why this is their goal.

Learning that is structured in order to help students acquire mandated knowledge is not, by default, powerful, but neither is learning through play. One could argue that without guided teaching, students involved in play (such as the children in the tree) may merely be reproducing their cultural setting and knowledge, not learning to be critical thinkers. This would suggest that play can be more reproductive and less conceptually free than it appears on the surface. But Direct Instruction and learning through play can be powerful, and in the context of the MELT, the combination of these and other modes of learning provides a powerful incentive for students to learn to think in sophisticated ways.

Learning and teaching are complex, and individuals, groups and systems will see the same things differently through the MELT, as each will inhabit different social and cultural worlds. I offer the MELT as a way in which our educational worlds can become a little less polarised, and a little more connected and fluid across the years and contexts in order to improve student learning.

Adelaide, Australia November 2019

John Willison

# Acknowledgements

This book is dedicated to my daughter Nadia, an intrepid learner.

The cartoons that comprise the chapter title pages are drawn by Aaron Humphry.

All materials are under 4.0 Creative Commons licence to be shared, adapted and re-shared with attribution.

Joe Miller edited my often convoluted writing and proof read with his eagle eye.

Many colleagues and students have contributed in so many ways, and I greatly appreciate the feedback on drafts from Chad Habel, Chido Alozie, Chris Trevitt, Colin Sharp, Jasvir Kaur, Kara Loy, Lyn Torre, Nadia Willison, Penny Vervoost, Ray Tolhurst, Sheryl Mills, Sue Garvin and Suzanne Schibeci. Thanks to the blind reviewers who provided provocative insights that improved the book.

All the photos in the book were taken by the author, except the Fronticepiece Gold drop, which is from Shutterstock.com, under a non-exclusive right to use, modify and reproduce worldwide.

# Contents

# Acronyms

# **Chapter 1 What Is Our Purpose?**

#### **1.1 Purpose**

There are a lot of hidden similarities in education. Differences are often emphasised, and similarities hidden, by the articulation of context-specific terminology and techniques. These include differences associated with ways of learning and teaching, such as pedagogy versus andragogy; epistemological perspectives including objectivism versus constructivism; pedagogical approaches, for example, Direct Instruction versus discovery learning; disciplinary ways of speaking and doing such as counting and accounting versus zoo visits and zoology; and ways of researching, as evident in qualitative versus quantitative methods.

Between all of these perspectives and approaches are genuine differences that are good and helpful, for they mirror ways of learning, teaching and researching in a variety of contexts. Such differences in perspective and approach mirror the differences between the communities to which they belong. However, these perspectives and approaches also share quite a few similarities.

This book is about the similarities. The similarities are important because they can be the connective elements across formal education, for teachers, principals, academics, communities, education systems, parents and especially for learners. Frequently, education comes across to students one learning activity, one assignment, one subject at a time. But all those integrally involved aim for education to become a forest of learning for students, rather than a sequence of individual trees. That forest is a complex ecosystem of interactions, involving all year levels, all subjects and all educational concepts growing in health and harmony. Where all the individual parts join together into a complex whole is the location that students develop 21st century skills, becoming critical thinkers and problem solvers who are research-minded and information-savvy.

In order to connect the similarities so that students learn more effectively to solve complex problems, think critically, research and make evidence-based decisions, this book introduces and explains the Models of Engaged Learning and Teaching (MELT). The MELT provide an understanding of the connections between diverse educational contexts, approaches, ideas and activities, and so enable a variety of different perspectives, practices and energies to work together. The MELT illuminate a way for educators and learners to participate in the development of sophisticated thinking skills, where the individual trees are more clearly connected in a forest of learning.

The purpose of this book, then, is to connect disparate energies and ideas of education through the MELT in order to facilitate students' development of sophisticated thinking. Educational theory and practice has tended towards conflict, creating uncertainties, distrust and wasted effort. With projections that Earth will reach a population of 8 billion people in 2023 [1], we need a new, more complementary style of education for the billion human brains that will be born from 2023 to 2030 [1], for they will become the leaders of the planet from 2040. Many of the problems they grapple with as leaders will be human-generated.

From Dewey in 1904/1974 [2] to Bundy in 2004 [3], 100 years of education research produced a set of understanding of learning as diverse as human learning and sophisticated thinking over the past 100,000 years. From MELT's perspective, this diversity is necessary, insightful and if not complete, then well-rounded, for informing education. As we move into an era where e-learning blended with face-to-face is the norm in schools, and in many technical education and university programmes, what do we need to know about human learning 100 Millennia ago, and how does it connect to the twenty-first Century?

The first 4 billion anatomically modern *Homo sapiens* born, from around 200 millennia ago [4, 5] to 100 millennia Before Present (BP) [6, 7] have a fossil record that demonstrates just a little innovation [8, 9]. Our large-brained ancestors primarily survived in the environments in which they were raised, or adapted to the new environments into which they moved.

The flurry of innovation shown in the archaeological record from around 100 millennia ago [8] onwards marks a transition to modern human behaviours. This set of behaviour is manifested in the development of diverse technologies, including hunting tools, fire control and chemical modifications, and abstract representations such as artworks. From this time, *Homo sapiens* are clearly apes with sophisticated thinking enabled by adaptive learning. Humans were not merely wandering into new environments from this time, but taking more calculated risks to get to new places, as evidenced by transport technologies such as simple canoes.

This flurry of innovation was self-perpetuating. One reason for this was that development compounded: one tool led to the development of another tool, and when both were used together, this enabled further development [9]. Another reason was that humans could now observe others' *intentional* adaptation of things, so that the *idea* of innovation became apparent. At some point in human history, someone first coined a word for the idea of intentional change, and humans armed with such a word may have caused the concept of innovation to reproduce like a meme [10], further accelerating innovative practice.

The innovation flurry was also driven by the fact that many of our innovative solutions became problems themselves. Enhanced hunting technologies at times led to the extinction of the prey on which humans depended. Domestication of herd animals provided a breeding ground for many killer diseases that resulted in largescale human and animal suffering. Wide adoption of crops led to the extreme use of herbicides and insecticides, and the clearing of natural habitats. And technologies that closed the distance between people through online social engagement across the globe enabled cyber-abuse to enter people's bedrooms and addictive behaviours to control the tempo of modern relationships. Solutions produced fresh problems, each of which required increasingly sophisticated solutions of their own. Thus, we became the problem-solving ape [11], in part because we had to learn to solve the problems we made for ourselves and for the whole planet. As a species, we have a knack of solving problems with solutions that create new, more complex problems.

The MELT provide a way to gather together and connect educational ideas and energies in a way that may help us to break out of the vicious circle of our solutions that cause more problems. This is possible because, as noted, the MELT connect to 100,000 years of human learning and 100 years of educational research; with this diverse set of otherwise conflicting set of understanding, the MELT can enable an education that is broadly savvy of the influences on education. The MELT intentionally draw together and represent disparate views of education theory and practice, so as to capture the broad sweep of learning and teaching, including Direct Instruction to discovery learning; objectivist perspectives on learning through to social constructivist thought; primary/elementary school to Ph.D. studies; and accounting to zoology and interdisciplinary notions; The MELT then can be used as a conceptual set to connect those with different roles such as caregivers, lab managers, learning advisors, learning designers, lecturers, librarians, principals, professors, parents, programme coordinators, sessional staff, supervisors of higher degree by research, teachers, vice chancellors and, crucially, students from primary/elementary school to Ph.D.

MELT is frequently put into action to help students understand their own sophisticated thinking and see more clearly the purpose for their own education that necessarily revolves around the further development of that thinking. It is not easy for teachers to have or develop a sense of purpose for students that goes beyond the immediacy of daily lessons to the big picture. For both students and teachers, MELT may be used as a thinking routine [12] that becomes habitual (but not mundane) and which, through repeated exposure, prompts growth in sophisticated thinking, not only about what to do and how to do it, but also metacognitive awareness.

When considering the last 100 years of educational research, our understandings of learning and teaching can seem more disparate than ever, and theory has not connected well with practice. For example, it is common for teachers to omit the explicit use of theoretical frameworks for their lesson planning and when leading other teachers [13]. However, we are also at a point of knowing an amazing amount about the complexities of teaching and learning. The MELT were formulated not to be theoretically pure, but through a consideration of major aspects of educational research and simultaneous reflection on classroom practice [14], as discussed in Chaps. 2 and 4. The models provide a conceptual framework for action, not a theory or set of theories. A 'conceptual framework' pertains here to a structure that guides thinking, that sets the parameters for considering learning and teaching.

The MELT provide a practical philosophy, then, connecting theories with theories and practices with practices, and especially connecting theory with practice. The MELT makes the skills associated with sophisticated thinking explicit, with the intention of encouraging coherent, explicit and cyclic development of such thinking across students' education.

This book spans early childhood education (ECE) to postgraduate study and contains examples across those contexts. But why would an early childhood teacher care about Master's level study, or undergraduate or high school? Why would a Ph.D. supervisor care about primary school learning? I suggest a reason is that the MELT can help with the connections across education, ultimately improving learning and teaching in ECE, primary and secondary school, technical education, undergraduate, master's, Ph.D. and employment contexts. Another reason is that all students use and teachers value the skills and attitudes associated with the MELT, because the models encapsulate what we do when we engage in sophisticated thinking [14].

#### *A brief history of MELT*

Beginning in 2004, my colleague Kerry O'Regan and I synthesised disparate literature and reflections on classroom practice, culminating in the first fully-developed version of the MELT, called the Research Skill Development (RSD) framework [15]. The RSD was employed in two national studies [15–17], which were designed to determine its efficacy in higher education contexts. However, the word 'research' did not always connect to people's practice. For example, Sue Bandaranaike coordinated student placements in industry called Work Integrated Learning or Cooperative Education and knew that 'research' did not fit her context. In 2009, Sue re-articulated the sophisticated thinking expressed in the RSD in terminology that was true to employment contexts, producing the Work Skill Development (WSD) framework [18]. Then, in quick succession, colleagues in Oral Health developed the Clinical Reflection Framework in 2012 [19], student-tutors developed a pentagon-shaped version for engineering, called the Optimising Problem-Solving pentagon [20] and an early childhood music teacher developed a song version called 'Research Mountain' [21], both in 2014. Colleagues from the University of the South Pacific developed a process-based version [22], using the metaphor of weaving a Pacific Island mat, the *italitali* mat that students were sitting on in *Place Value*. In 2018 Monash University developed the Digital Skills Development (DSD) framework [23] and in 2019 the Blended and Engaged Learning Zones (BELZ) [24] was devised for the design and evaluation of modes that are explicitly blended with e-learning. (Note that 'learning' is used preferentially to 'e-learning' in this book because modern learning is so often bound up with, or mediated fully by, the electronic that it is often not helpful to differentiate [25]).

By 2016, the number of RSD-based models had grown to such an extent that one name was chosen to be emblematic of the characteristics and purpose of all of them: the Models of Engaged Learning and Teaching [15]. It took from 2004 to 2016 to determine the core characteristics of these models, and to find a name that could connect them conceptually. The MELT evolved over time to become a set of related, but context-specific, representations of how sophisticated thinking could be taught and learned, in keeping with *Homo sapiens*' history [9] and contemporary learning environments [14, 15].

#### *Contemporary issues*

By unpacking the MELT, this book will address four perennial, yet contemporary, issues:

	- Across students' education, from early childhood through to school completion, technical and further education, undergraduate, master's and Ph.D. level, onto employment and continuing professional development.
	- Across subjects and disciplines from counting and accounting to zoo visits and zoology, multidisciplinary, interdisciplinary and transdisciplinary learning.
	- Between sometimes competing paradigms, theories and teaching practices.

The book introduces the MELT as a way to conceptualise how such enabling, connecting, deepening and engaging may take place.

This chapter details the purpose and features of the book and of its namesake subject, the Models of Engaged Learning and Teaching. Section 1.2 outlines the MELT's six *facets* of sophisticated thinking, elaborated along a *continuum of learning autonomy*. Section 1.3, called *Parachute*, comprises a story about two students, Shelly and Katie, each engaged in an individual short project in the first year of high school. As well as covering some of the types of learning that are common across formal education and in many different disciplinary and interdisciplinary contexts, this story is true to the sophisticated learning that humans have engaged in for 100,000 years. In Sect. 1.4, *100 billion brains*, humans are contrasted with beavers, who were the premier engineers of the past 20 million years, but who were stuck in their mode of learning. Unlike beavers, humans have developed multiple ways of learning, suggesting that a multiplicity of teaching strategies are not just possible but desirable. Section 1.5, *One billion brains more*, outlines the absolute need to develop sophisticated thinking in order to address educational and planet-wide problems, requiring a conceptualisation like MELT to connect different teaching approaches and ideas. Section 1.6 provides the structure of this book, where each chapter's title is one of the seven questions that are central to each MELT *facet* and to *learning autonomy*. The chapter concludes with Sect. 1.7, *Student learning that resonates*. For the MELT, recognising and fostering a diverse range of teaching and learning strategies is absolutely central to effective education. Therefore, this book explicitly articulates the connections between disparate educational ideas, placing them all on the same *learning autonomy continuum* of the MELT, in the hope that these ideas will be taken together as a set and become more mutually supportive.

#### **1.2 MELT Components**

The MELT comprise the six *facets* of sophisticated thinking elaborated along a continuum of *learning autonomy*.

#### *1.2.1 MELT Facets*

The *facets* of the MELT concern the 'what' of learning and teaching. Content varies subject-by-subject, lesson-by-lesson and in the MELT focus, the 'what' concerns the skills and attitudes of sophisticated thinking as applied to, and mediated by, the content.

Figure 1.1 shows a version of the MELT that was inspired by engineering students who tutored in a large first year course. The student/tutors adapted MELT and devised a version that they called the Optimising Problem-Solving (OPS) pentagon. That version stripped out a lot of detail, resulting in a representation that is student friendly and focuses on the facets, rather than explicating *learning autonomy* directly to the students. Context-specific adaptations of MELT, portrayed in the pentagon configuration, are used, with students from Year 4 of primary school to master's level, and in introductions of MELT to educators in schools and universities.

Complex learning from ECE to Ph.D. always requires something akin to the six MELT *facets*. In many ways, these facets are clear and uncontroversial in nature if not in name, and commonly made explicit in education. Each MELT facet comprises a name made of verb couplets, an associated affective adjective, and a corresponding question, as shown in Table 1.1 (as well as a description, provided in Chap. 2).

The facets of MELT are quintessential processes whose descriptions act as triggers and connectors. As quintessential processes, the MELT facets can't independently capture the meaning for every context. They are fully dependent on the educators who adopt them, each of whom knows or is coming to know, what needs to happen in any learning situation that they are facilitating, and how to articulate the processes they are facilitating.

Each facet of the MELT is designed to 'trigger' words and phrases that better describe the facet's concepts in a particular context. These words and phrases then

**Fig. 1.1** The MELT Pentagon's six facets, each with a pair of verbs, a key question and an adjective in blue which represents the affective domain

may conceptually connect to other contexts which use different words and phrases for the same concepts being triggered by the facet. Without this conceptual connection, the processes associated with the same facet may otherwise seem unrelated to students and educators. For example, the facet *embark and clarify* may trigger terms that suit the start of a process such as 'pose research question', 'define problem' or 'determine need', depending on the terminology of the context and the purpose at hand. These terms do have useful differences, but they also have conceptual overlap that is frequently overlooked. As triggers, the facets are not generic skills, because 'generic' implies skills that students maybe able to generalise from one context to another. The facets may be better thought of as 'connectable skills' rather than transferable skills.

As an educational trigger, each facet has four vital inter-related components. Three are introduced above (verb couplets, affective adjective, key question), and the fourth component, introduced in Chap. 2, is a sentence description of each facet. Some educators may focus on the cognitive aspect (e.g., *embark*), some on the affective (e.g., *curious*), some on the question (what is our purpose?), some on all three. But together, these aspects provide the sense of what we are after across education, and that sense can be explicitly connected from one context to another. Subject and discipline-mediated ways of understanding and representing the facets vary widely [16–19], as demonstrated in Chap. 3's look at MELT use in a variety of contexts.

#### *1.2.2 Continuum of Learning Autonomy*

The *continuum of learning autonomy* in MELT concerns the 'how' of learning and teaching, that is, the ways that the facets maybe developed, making the continuum an explicit articulation of the teaching process for scaffolding the development of sophisticated thinking. It is also possible to enable students to understand their engagement in the learning process, and representation of the *continuum of learning autonomy* expressly for students is shown in Fig. 1.2. In the figure, the red pentagon represents lower levels of learning autonomy, where students *emulate*; a yellow pentagon at mid-levels of learning autonomy, where students *improvise*, and a blue pentagon representing high levels of learning autonomy, where students *initiate.* Students may emulate, then improvise, then initiate sophisticated learning and then proceed to emulate once more, for example, if the learning context shifts so that students are unfamiliar with new content, if conceptual demand goes up or as the expected rigour increases. In other words, *learning autonomy* in MELT is not unidirectional towards high autonomy, but rather shuttles back and forth, according to the young child's or the Ph.D. student's learning needs [27].

Learning autonomy in MELT maybe engineered by teachers, and matrix versions of MELT often articulate a five-level, teaching-oriented *continuum of learning autonomy*, shown in Fig. 1.3. Five levels of differentiation are sometimes helpful for teachers, whereas three levels are typically enough for students.

**Fig. 1.2** A student-oriented *continuum of learning autonomy*, here represented by three verbs and corresponding colours: *emulate*, red; *improvise*, yellow; and *initiate*, blue (see www.rsd.edu.au/ framework)

**Fig. 1.3** A teaching-oriented *continuum of learning autonomy*, here represented by five verbs and corresponding colours: *prescribed*, red; *bounded, orange; scaffolded*, yellow; *open*-*ended*, green; and *unbounded*, blue (details removed: see www.rsd.edu.au/framework)

Frequently, considerations regarding the extent of *learning autonomy* are left buried below the level of teachers' and students' consciousness. However, implicit understandings of *learning autonomy* permeate classrooms and supervision contexts in which teachers seek to develop sophisticated thinking [27]. The question below, associated with the *continuum of learning autonomy*, is arguably the most pressing concern in education, whether for face-to-face, online, augmented, virtual or blended realities. It is ultimately the most contentious question and because of this has the potential to connect disparate ideas in education:

How much guidance?

The six *facets* of MELT elaborated along the *continuum of learning autonomy* frame, but cannot answer, the above question. The question can only be answered by individual teachers and their students, by school communities, by systems and, maybe soon, by Teaching Machines (see Chap. 5) who understand the context of learning. The MELT explication of the *continuum of learning autonomy* provokes answers, however, around a healthy shuttling where students emulate, improvise and initiate and then proceed once more to emulate. The amount of guidance depends on the relationship of the student to what is learned, to the teacher and to the broader context, and the complexity of such relationship is best discussed and debated.

#### *1.2.3 MELT as a Thinking Routine*

Sharing the inter-relationships of facets and learning autonomy, the MELT takes on many forms and may be revisited in different guises along a student's learning journey. Some forms include tables with text, pentagon or jig-saw shapes, songs with actions, and a weaving metaphor; diverse MELT models are presented in Chap. 3. Formats and phrasings depend on the purpose chosen for each of the MELT, the intended audience, and educators' professional judgement, and so the MELT are necessarily fluid. With a growing number of emerging MELT, the models show the potential of working together as a set that conceptually connects the disparate ideas and energies of education. Multiple manifestations and uses of the same overarching framework by many educators, researchers and parents may, over time, richly develop the sophisticated thinking that enables students to create solutions to problems solutions that do not become the cause of further problems.

Providing students with multiple exposures to MELT in many guises enables the six facets to become a *thinking routine* [12], a way of thinking that can conceptually accompany them throughout their education and remain afterwards. Researchers found that a hallmark of effective teachers was that they frequently employed explicit thinking strategies for students to use [11]. Teachers repeatedly introduced, modelled and used these strategies to facilitate student learning. The researchers called these *thinking routines* because they became almost second nature for students, and they were a vital component of 'making thinking visible' to teachers, parents and to the students themselves. The six facets of the MELT can become for students a *thinking routine* if teachers facilitate their use repeatedly. One final-year university student, looking back over multiple semesters of MELT use said 'because they have been consistently applying this structure to all of our assignments, we have *come to think that way for science*' [28]. MELT became a thinking routine for that student.

*Educ*ation connotes a process of *educ*ing, a 'leading out' of what is inside students, their capacities for sophisticated thinking, whereas the facilitation of learning content knowledge could be called *induc*ation. A combination of inducation and education provides the opportunity for sophisticated thinking to be nurtured in a content-rich environment. Students who employ skills in inquiry learning without much background knowledge and understanding often struggle [29], while an emphasis on content is frequently demotivational [30]. Diversity of pedagogies, teaching personalities and contexts, with inducational and educational elements, will provide rich learning. For example, it seems counterproductive to teach students to think critically while only presenting them with one understanding of critical thinking. Critical thinking in English literature looks quite different from critical thinking in astrophysics; students will develop richer, more robust and useful forms of critical thinking if presented with the diverse approaches and methods afforded by different subjects and disciplines and they can see the similarities and connections, not just the differences.

This book seeks connections, not through terminology or definitions, but by provoking thought on how sophisticated thinking maybe facilitated by MELT adaptation and use in many content-rich contexts. The book introduces, mirrors and represents MELT by using the seven questions above for its structure.

The story below, along with *Place Value* (Preface) and *Silver Fluoride* (Chap. 2) will be used in Chap. 2 to show how the complexities of sophisticated thinking are, across formal education, legitimately and usefully captured in MELT.

#### **1.3 Parachute**

This chapter emphasises purpose, and purpose is the underpinning theme in the classroom story below, called *Parachute*. A big range of teaching and learning strategies is evident in *Parachute*: there is a teacher present, a person who holds a vast amount of culturally-specific knowledge and who is keen to incorporate that into the students' own knowledge bases. The teacher has an intention for the learning that may or may not be realised student-by-student. There is a learner, Shelly, who is willing to take a risk and *innovate*, and another learner, Katie, who plays it safe and *emulates* the teacher. There are unnamed students who strongly influence the learning dynamic, even though the focus of the class is nominally an individual project.

This diversity of actors and actions is true to the reality of human learning across millennia, where the capacity to learn was a huge determinant of the survival and evolutionary direction of the species. At times in our prehistory, imitation and rote learning, forms of emulation, were far more effective for survival than discovery learning requiring innovation. However, there have also been many times where existing knowledge and practice were insufficient and, like Shelly below, individuals or groups needed to take risks and innovate. Without such adaptations, human groups would have perished or been overrun. Or they just may have missed an amazing opportunity unless they adapted and took risks, as demonstrated by the Polynesians who sailed into the unknown Pacific about 3,000 years ago [31].

Sophisticated thinking has always involved drawing on existing knowledge, evaluating that knowledge and then seeing if different knowledge and skills are needed. Like this book more broadly, *Parachute* does not romanticise discovery learning as a panacea, but neither does it promote a strong didactic approach as the solution. MELT is suggestive of something more fluid, something that takes shape and then flows again between didactic and discovery approaches. The story is narrated by me as a participant observer conducting research in Mrs. Breen's Year 8 science class [32], and shows the potential and problems with content knowledge acquisition and with discovery learning.

#### *Parachute*

'Continue on with your steps for your parachute,' calls Mrs. Breen, addressing the class during the double period before lunch. 'Then draw up an observation table. We have material in plastic bags, cotton, string of two different lengths, thick and thin.'

Shelly takes a compass and attempts to draw a circle on some plastic, using a pen. Once Shelly has cut out a misshapen circle, her desk partner Katie uses it as a template for her own experiment, cutting out a circle of plastic and a circle of cotton.

Shelly works on some calculations for a while, then comes up to me and says, 'I don't have enough plastic.'

She explains that her intention is to make a square parachute of the same area as the round one. I am shocked when I see how much plastic Shelly has left. There seems to be enough to make ten square parachutes of the same area as the round one she is holding.

'I need a square one hundred and eight by one hundred and eight centimetres,' she informs me.

My mind reels at the size of this square. It would have a surface area greater than her work desk, and yet is supposed to be the same area as the circle she has cut, a circle only a little larger than her open hand.

'Show me how you worked out the area,' I ask, wanting to find out how she could make such a miscalculation.

To find the area of the circle she has made, Shelly puts pi r squared into action, and her calculator reads '433.5'. So far, so good. Then, to find the length of a side of the square to make it an equivalent area, she hits the division button, followed by the four buttons.

'One hundred and eight,' she exclaims. 'See? It doesn't fit.'

Sure enough, her sheet of plastic would be dwarfed by a square with sides of 108 cm and, therefore, she thinks she doesn't have enough material.

I brace myself, remembering that Shelly is a very bright student and begin, 'The area of the circle is right, but the square is much too large. You just found the length of the side if 433.5 was the perimeter.'

'I don't know how to do it,' she says, looking up at the clock.

'What is the area of a square with sides of two centimetres?' I ask in Socratic fashion.

'Four centimetres squared,' Shelly answers.

'What are the sides of a square sized nine centimetres?'

'Three?'

'What did you do to get it?'

'Divide by itself?' asks Shelly in answer.

'Sort of,' I respond, thinking she is getting close.

'Find what and what… like square roo… like you..?'

I write '√9'.

'I don't know how to do that,' Shelly laments.

I show her the symbol on her calculator. It is term three of Year 8 and Shelly is in the top mathematics class. She says that does not know how to find the length of the sides of a square when given an area. She says that she does not know how to find the square root of a number, even using a calculator.

Much worse to me, though, is that she never thought for a second that there could be something wrong with the size of the square she had calculated. And she was an 'A' grade student in maths.

Shelly finds the square root to be 20.5, runs to her desk and immediately starts to rule up the plastic. There is now plenty of material to make a square parachute with sides of 20.5 centimetres.

Mrs. Breen goes to the doorway to speak to a number of students dropping parachutes outside: 'Alright everyone, back in.'

As Shelly hears this, she says, 'Shivers,' quietly to herself, grabs both parachutes and heads for the door.

She almost makes it outside, when Mrs. Breen waves everyone back to their seats. 'I want everyone to listen.'

Back at her seat, Shelly works hastily to make sure her parachutes are ready to test.

'I know most of you have done the experiment…' (Shelly works at a more frenzied pace) '…but I also want you to do a bar graph.'

Mrs. Breen draws an example on the board.

Katie begins to do some test drops with her two parachutes. She is comparing the drop time of a cloth parachute and a plastic parachute, which was the example provided by Mrs. Breen. Both parachutes float to earth in a satisfying parachute-like manner.

Shelly grabs the stop-watch and starts to drop her square parachute. However, the string pulls off the plastic.

'Mine doesn't work. It's crap,' she sulks to Katie.

Shelly quickly repairs the square parachute and drops it again (Fig. 1.4).

In the results table, under the column heading 'round', Shelly writes '0.68', then crosses it out. Next to this, she writes '1.12' after another drop. Then, she crosses this out. She drops again and writes '0.93', yet changes the nine to a six, so her only number in that column reads '0.63'. This dropping, erasing and writing process continues for several minutes.

Mrs. Breen passes and asks, 'So what happened? Is it OK?'

'Yep', says Shelly, 'the round one takes longer to hit the ground.'

'Did you use several measurements?'

'Yes.'

**Fig. 1.4** Shelly determines the drop time for a square, plastic parachute

Mrs. Breen smiles, extremely pleased with Shelly's success.

Mrs. Breen returns to the front and explains to the whole class, 'In the conclusion, list what went wrong, and how you could improve.'

Shelly gets to work on the conclusion of her report. She writes, 'If the key factors are the same the parachutes should come down at the same rate as it was not proven here I have come to the conclusion that the shape does matter to the time.'

Katie works on improving her cloth parachute. She drops it and coos, 'Cool,' as she watches its smooth flight.

As it floats gently to earth once more, she says abstractly, 'I hate maths with a passion.'

Shelly echoes her sentiment: 'I hate maths too.'

#### *1.3.1* **MELT Features in** *Parachute*

In *Parachute*, Shelly and Katie were engaged in learning that involved designing experiments and determining independent variables, dependent variables and controlled variables. MELT is one way of representing the sophisticated thinking in this story. The simple analysis of *Parachute* below foreshadows the six facets of MELT that are introduced more thoroughly in Chap. 2.

Shelly is determined to compare square and round parachutes, whereas Katie looked at cotton versus plastic, the teacher's example. This is where each decided what to *embark* on for their experiment, as well as beginning the complex process of ongoing *clarification* of purpose.

Early on, Shelly worked to craft two plastic parachutes of different shape but the same size, and realised that she needed to use geometry to achieve this. She created the round parachute, measured it and generated its surface area from pi r squared. Then she used the formula for perimeters of a square to calculate its sides generating a number that dwarfed the circle. Shelly *found* needed resources (plastic, a calculator and maths formulas from memory) and *generated* data using an empirical methodology.

Shelly realised there was a problem, and her *evaluation* correctly suggested that there was insufficient material to make a square big enough to match her calculation. I was surprised that she did not notice the huge discrepancy in size between her actual circle and her proposed square. It seems she implicitly trusted the mathematical calculation, even when the discrepancy was huge, evidencing little *reflection* at that point. Shelly sought help from me for more materials. However, instead of sourcing more, I prompted her to consider that her calculation of the size of the square was wrong. At this point, Shelly and I tried to determine whether she knew an appropriate formula to determine the amount of material she would need for a square parachute. When she struggled remembering a correct equation for the area of a square, I provided her numerous cues until I virtually told her area equals the length of one side squared.

Once she applied a formula that gave a more sensible answer, she produced a square parachute of comparable size to the round one, and began to time parachute drops. She wrote, erased and rewrote results into her results table. This *organisation* of results was accompanied by the *evaluation* of data as somehow wrong and in need of re-recording. All the while, Shelly had the huge pressure of *managing* her dwindling time to set up the entire experiment, which was novel, in that no one else was contrasting shape, while others were following the teacher's example procedure.

Shelly *analysed* her data and found that the round one took longer to fall. Her *synthesis* was the overall finding that 'shape does matter to drop time, given the same surface area'.

Throughout, Shelly listened to and talked with her desk partner, me and the teacher, while she also wrote and recorded, demonstrating multiple modes of *communication*. She *applied* remembered and prompted knowledge (formulas for the area of a circle and of a square) to the experiment, as well as her evolving knowledge of experimental design, relating this to her existing knowledge and to others in the classroom.

The story is set in a school science laboratory, but Shelly engaged in sophisticated thinking that is as relevant to hunter-gatherers as it is to learners in virtual worlds. Lab learning, hunting and online gaming differ in many ways and the fundamental neuronal wiring of the brains of children brought up engaging heavily online maybe quite different to that of hunter-gatherers. However, the story contains elements of the sophisticated thinking that we crave as teachers and such thinking spans 100,000 years. Like most learners throughout human prehistory and history, Shelly experienced frustrations, setbacks and unresolved tensions, as well as some successes.

The in-class learning of Shelly, involving exploring and risk taking, and of Katie, involving emulating and safety, demonstrated a lot of the potential and pitfalls connected to *learning autonomy*. Shelly attempted to work on her own questions about square and round parachutes, showing much more autonomy in learning than Katie and others in the class by *initiating* in many MELT facets, and *improvising* in the rest. Katie was primarily *emulating* the teacher's example. Thus, there were differentiated experiences along the continuum of *learning autonomy* in the same room, at the same time, given the same parameters by the teacher. The task in *Parachute* had the scope of *open-ended inquiry*, but because the teacher provided modelling that students were permitted to imitate, most students took the safer, easier way of emulating.

Shelly's higher autonomy had associated risks, exemplified by her extreme miscalculation. Shelly had possibly applied the formula for the area of a square dozens of times in her schooling, and this time she was way off any sensible number. While there is potential for huge learning here, the situation is also an example of a huge learning curve. Where that curve is too steep, some students may experience enough demotivation and discouragement to put them off trying. However, Shelly was not deterred by her miscalculation, in part because she did not perceive the discrepancy in the actual size of the round parachute and the calculated size of the square one. Instead of recalculating, she sought more material to match her calculation. From a Problem Based Learning (PBL) perspective, if Shelly recognised the discrepancy between calculation and size, this could have led to deep learning [32]. However, within the constraints of the classroom, she had little time to complete and submit her work. Practicalities of teaching, such as lesson length, frequently dictate what actually happens in formal education regardless of theory informing the lesson. Ultimately, Shelly demonstrated in the eighty minutes before lunch the sophisticated thinking that comprises MELT's six *facets* on the higher end of the *continuum of learning autonomy*. Often these *facets* are not deployed consciously and, much like an unopened parachute, learners may have a hard landing when conceptual difficulties emerge.

In *Parachute*, Shelly's own research question created a need for mathematical calculation and specific mathematical equations. This maybe contrasted with *Place Value*, where children required no specific knowledge to play around the tree, and in their classroom, the focus was on content knowledge inculcation or construction. Shelly, a student of thirteen, had experienced seven years of schooling in maths, and it's reasonable to assume that she would have learned about calculating the area of a square several years earlier. *Place Value* represented learning experiences in two different contexts and each elicited a very different *learning autonomy*. However, *Parachute* showed some of the tensions that maybe evident within a single context, and highlighted the intimate connection between content knowledge and inquiry learning. This tension between an appropriate knowledge base and learning through discovery has been evident throughout human prehistory. The questions of engaged learning and teaching are as pertinent to ancient *Homo sapiens* as they are to contemporary humans whether they are inhabiting real or virtual environments. The wiring of our brains may be or become quite different, but the questions of learning are the same.

Through our prehistory, humans proved to be highly adaptable because our brains were not programmed to 'get stuck' on one mode of learning. But ironically for a discipline centred on learning, the practice and research of formal education have tended to become 'stuck'. That is, researchers have often prioritised researching the forms of learning that seem optimal to them, and looking at the learning gains by contrasting performance, e.g., that of Direct Instruction versus discovery learning. The findings of studies, of course, have always depended on what was valued as a learning gain in the measurements. But a mentality which emphasises measurement has possibly diminished educators' awareness of the potential range of ways to learn, with a whole spectrum of possibilities being minimised for the sake of theory and parsimony. Search for a grand theory that underpins all learning undermines the potential of humankind to engage in diverse and enriching learning and teaching. To maximise the efforts of educators and students, it is necessary to pull together the disparate threads in education, in a way that reflects how humans were geared to learn 100,000 years ago and how they are currently geared to learn. In educational practice and theory, MELT connotes a fluidity, rather than being stuck in one place, in keeping with our learning as a species.

# **1.4 100 Billion Brains: Learning from Human Prehistory to Contemporary Classrooms and Learning Environments**

Humans are the only known animals to use systematic, descriptive labels for living things, including ourselves. And while we labelled our cousins with systematic and descriptive species names such as *Homo erectus* and *Homo habitus*, we chose for ourselves the more interpretive title of *Homo sapiens*, or 'wise man'. If sentient animals had a vote, would they describe modern humans as wise? We are certainly a learning animal, but many animals are that too. What about our learning is distinctively *sapiens*? We have big brains, proportionally, but Neanderthals had a bigger brain volume [33] and still died out.

As noted early in this chapter, *Homo sapiens* have been very efficient at solving problems whose solutions created new problems which emerged days, years or centuries later. This is highly disturbing, albeit probably inevitable. The disturbing side of the process whereby solutions beget problems is obvious, with rates of species extinction unprecedented since the meteor that led to the demise of the dinosaurs, degradation of water, air, soils and society, and massive migrations, alienations and competition between cultures, religions, political ideologies and nations.

The inevitable side of the process by which human-made solutions generate new problems may come as a surprise. To demonstrate this inevitability, I present a comparison between humans and beavers—the pre-eminent engineers of the animal world, for more than 20 million years [34] up until 12,000 years ago. The reason for this comparison is that those early engineer-beavers were more instinctive than purposively engaged in their learning, whereas humans frequently need engaged teaching to enable engaged learning.

#### *1.4.1 Beaver and Human Know-How*

The massive engineering projects requiring complex social behaviour, up until relatively recently in the earth's history, were conducted by beavers. It is only in the recent past, starting about 12,000 years ago [35], that human engineering projects were conducted on a scale more massive than beavers' dams, even though the human physique's capacity for engineering has exceeded the beavers' physical capacity for 200,000 years.

So, how is it that beavers were more able to conduct massive engineering projects than humans for over 180,000 years? In short, because it took a whole lot of learning about materials, physics, chemistry, maths, nature, and ourselves, including through artistic expression, creative imagining and philosophising, for humans to take top spot on massive-scale engineering. Critically, what is important to, and reflective of, MELT, is that this human learning was diverse in mode.

A curious feature of beaver dam-building know-how is that the majority of it is in their genes [36, 37]. Beavers can learn over time to build better dams, but their fundamental damming behaviour is hard-wired. So, even if you could challenge a beaver to build some other massive structure (such as a bridge) it would not have the cognitive capacity to do so. Beavers are smooth-brained (lissencephalic) whereas humans and other apes have wormy brains featuring gyri and sulci, which allow for more neurons and synapses to be packed into the same space. Pre-programed knowhow only gets you so far, and beavers can't generalise their learning from dams to other engineering projects.

As with beavers, *Homo sapiens* have genetically programmed know-how: we can suck, chew and crawl, and maybe some humans can walk and run without examples. But we can't talk, write, read or do anything like build a dam without learning to do so, whether by watching and listening, with a teacher or through trial and error. Beavers' engineering knowledge is pre-packaged, whereas ours developed over the course of tens of thousands of years, and needs to be culturally transmitted rather than genetically transmitted.

Perhaps because we have so little genetic know-how, human babies are called 'sponges', as they appear ready to soak up and imitate almost anything they see and hear. As a tragic example, orphans in Romania who were deprived of care by adults [38] mimicked the movements of cranes that they could see through the window. Engaged learning is the norm for a baby in three modes: being taught, observing, and experimenting through trial and error. All these three modes are vital for normal development, and the second and last are ubiquitous for babies.

Being taught, however, requires someone to facilitate the learning. This could involve correcting a child's pronunciation, instructing on the number of protons in magnesium or suggesting a strategy for brush strokes on a painting. While common, teaching and being taught are not ubiquitous. This is the most difficult to operationalise of the three modes mentioned above, because it depends on the intentionality of someone who is not the learner. Such intentionality requires some effort, some thought. In societies with universal schooling, the process of teaching and being taught entails effort by the whole of society. So this book is about engaged teachers. And because learning can and does take place independently of a teacher, this book is also about engaged learners. Most of all, it is about the relationship of engaged learners and engaged teachers together, where sometimes the teachers learn and sometimes the learners teach.

MELT frame a range of teaching pedagogies that fit human learning. At one extreme end of a teaching spectrum, beavers don't need pedagogy; for them, there is little intentional teaching and little capacity to engage in it. At the other end, humans need a multiplicity of pedagogies that represent our broad-ranged sophisticated thinking, and the MELT represents this range. The use of the plural word 'models' in MELT is intended to capture the numerous ways of conceptualising engaged learning and teaching. The broad parameters that all existing and future MELT share attempt to capture the breadth of education research, theorising and practice for the past 100 years, and the breadth of the human experience of learning and teaching for the past 100,000 years.

'Engagement', the 'E' in MELT, is a term sometimes used glibly in education, but in MELT it is used deliberately to suggest the same idea that it connotes in the context of a manual car: it won't move unless you engage the clutch. There must be cognitive meshing. Learning, then, is a 'moving forward' into a place we have not yet been conceptually, enabled by engagement. Teaching is driving towards a goal, a forward impetus where frequently the teacher steers. But in contemporary classrooms, online environments, and throughout human prehistory, learners may be the ones steering and controlling the accelerator and brake. Teaching, in MELT, is attending to and establishing the preconditions and conditions for learning, including cognitive, affective and social aspects. Without a teacher, planned learning is difficult. However, when the learning is driven by a teacher, it is never guaranteed to be positive or effective, especially if students are demotivated about the learning at hand. It is a huge challenge to teach a class of students effectively day after day, to tutor, to supervise, and to nurture learning.

#### *1.4.2 Inevitable Earth: Problems with Dams*

Another good reason to know about beaver learning is to deepen our understanding of human learning and its consequences. As beavers evolved increasing capacity, physically and cognitively, to build dams, they not only built bigger and better dams, but they changed entire ecosystems through the flooding of valleys to make lakes. They changed the course of evolution for untold species of plants, animals, fungi and bacteria. However, this process took millions of years, and entire ecosystems adapted slowly to beaver-induced changes [39]. Many animals wreak major changes quickly on the landscape, such as swarming insects or defoliating elephants, but few have had an impact on the scale of beaver technology [40].

Compared to the elaborate engineering projects of beavers, we *Homo sapiens* were very simple builders for most of our evolution. However, as noted earlier, simple toolmaking eventually gave rise to a compounding [8] of tool use, where one tool enabled other tools: a chipped rock made sharp for killing an animal, for example, could also be used to smooth the haft of a spear. Animals use what's at their disposal, and humans were no different. The pace of technology compounded, and while initially glacial, it became exponential: single-edge stone tools maintained the same design from 200,000 to 120,000 BCE [8], but once further adaptations emerged, tool use and development took off—literally—like a rocket!

This ratcheting up of problem-solving capacity and technology is possible because human brains are learning-versatile compared to beaver brains. A major element of human learning before the establishment of cities was that our brains had the capacity, much more so than beavers, to engage in didactic-reproductive learning, generation after generation. At the same time, we also had the capacity, used when the circumstances warranted it, to engage in the development of new knowledge through research-like processes of discovery. When competition came, when the environment changed, when an important prey animal died out or humans moved into different ecosystems, the learning of established ideas through reproductive modes was inadequate by itself. Adaptation was required which, in turn, demanded a different order of learning. Human brains are adaptive and plastic, and adults could shift their thinking somewhat, rewiring neural networks. However, for the young with developing brains who moved with their extended family into new challenges, an upbringing of upheaval geared their brains for discovery mode; they neurologically wired to inquire [41, 42]. A challenge for educators in the twenty-first century, then, is to work out what modes of learning are pertinent in emerging local and global circumstances and what balance can be struck across different modes of teaching and learning, from more didactic to more discovery-oriented. The MELT *facets* and *continuum of learning autonomy* provide the what and how of *Homo sapiens'* transmission-oriented and innovative learning over the course of the last 1000,000 years, as we have always, and need still, to emulate, improvise and innovate.

# **1.5 One Billion Brains More: The Problems We Face Need Research-Mindedness**

Because humans are adept at solving problems, and because our solutions cause more problems, we and the planet are on a destructive trajectory. Education systems that replicate our current successes will also magnify our current problems. Instead, we need educators with broadened perspectives that cope with, and even enjoy, a range of teaching and learning modes. MELT articulate the human capacity to learn didactically and to learn through discovery in ways that reinforce each other. While some educators, parents, researchers and students take a polarised position towards one particular teaching and learning approach, MELT suggest that we need learning environments that explicitly value every point on the learning autonomy continuum This is, arguably, our best hope to move from an inevitable problem-solving/problemcausing loop to a less predetermined future for the Earth.

We need to be able to cover every point on the continuum of teaching and learning approaches, because we need brains that are wired to swing adaptively from learning established knowledge to constructing fresh knowledge. We need brains that are wired to memorise and recall *and* wired to inquire and delve [41]. Education systems need to draw on young children's natural curiosity, promote the acquisition of the massive canon of modern knowledge, *and* be more purposive in how they move between these two.

How can parents, caregivers and early childhood educators help young children's brains to wire in such a way that they love to learn existing knowledge, as well as to discover knowledge on their own? How can these loves be nurtured throughout primary and secondary schooling? What will facilitate the further development of such engaged learning with undergraduates and Master's students, including those who are enrolled in teaching degrees? What difference will this make to Ph.D. students and other researchers when addressing the problems of the Earth? And what will this mean for teachers who engage in their own active and systematic learning, such as action research and ongoing professional development, to improve their students' learning? Further, how can we best nurture a love of moving fluidly across the *continuum of learning autonomy*, rather than prioritising one of the ends?

The above fluidity is one where our genetically-determined neuronal architecture and its adaptive responsiveness to environmental cues [42] forms our brains with not merely the capacity to learn new things, but the capacity to rewire. MELT can inform a rewiring for the next billion brains that is both knowledge-savvy and inquiry-oriented (Fig. 1.5).

Humans have the greatest number of neurons at about seven months' gestation, typically two months before birth [42]. Then apoptosis—healthy, natural cell death is genetically programmed to remove the less used neurons, so that newborn babies and adults alike have substantially less neurons than we had when we were in the womb [42] where the adult brain has around 80 billion neurons. Typically, those neurons that synapse—or connect—with other neurons survive. These neurons continue the complex process of developing neural networks, with any one neuron connected up to 1,000 other neurons [42] in a mind-boggling array that is the powerhouse of sophisticated thinking.

Most amazing and relevant for MELT is that the number of our synapses—the connections between neurons—goes through the roof early in life, so that by age three we have trillions. But after the age of three, our healthy genetic programming begins to reduce those networks in a process called 'neural pruning' [42]. Our healthy brains go through this natural pruning process where if we don't use it, we lose it: a synapse connection in which two neurons rarely communicate tends to be pruned. The saying is that neurons that fire together wire together [42], meaning that if two

#### **Fig. 1.5** Wired to inquire?

synapsed neurons communicate regularly, they will stay connected and maintain their part of the network. After the age of three, we begin to lose billions of synapses each year, and this process continues through different parts of the brain until the twenties [42]. This sounds bad because learning equates to synapse formation and maintenance. However, neurons and synapses require a lot of energy, and an overly complex network is less efficient and effective.

But here's the thing: what we are sensing, doing, thinking and saying from birth and beforehand (e.g., tasting mother's amniotic fluid as an embryo) influences our synapse formation, and what is pruned [42]. So children who spend the majority of their time using information and communications technology (e.g., gaming) are using their brains in such a way that some neural networks are enhanced and others are limited. As a result, their neuro-architecture—their actual brain's wiring—will reflect their environment [42], just as has always been the case for human brains.

The brain's wiring is a complex mix of genetic determinants and environmental influences. As an extreme example, a baby reared in the dark will not be able to see even when taken into the light at age one [42]. The development of optical pathways in the brain is not only genetically determined but requires environmental stimulus; use it or minimise it.

Learning in the human brain is not compartmentalised into 'cognitive' and 'affective'. Long-term memory is closely associated with the part of the brain called the hippocampus, which itself is also associated with emotions [43]. Correspondingly, a longstanding finding from psychology is that we learn that to which we attend [44], and so motivational elements are vital for learning [43], frequently in multimodal ways that reinforce learning [44]. MELT explicitly articulate the cognitive dimensions of engaged learning in concert with the affective dimensions. The beaver in each cartoon at the beginning of each chapter calls out affective-oriented words that connect to the more cognitive facet titles, and this simultaneous connection of cognitive and affective domains is central to MELT, because the connection is true and vital for human learning.

A full range of educational experiences, including face-to-face, hands-on, online and virtual learning, is needed for the education of the next billion brains on the planet. This range of experiences needs to be full not just in terms of subject matter, but in terms of how this subject matter is learned. In MELT terms, this especially concerns the *continuum of learning autonomy*. A full range of educational experiences would embrace teacher-directed immersion of students in content knowledge and in key concepts, as well as student ownership of learning and inclusion in curriculum decisions, where students would be given scope for high levels of autonomy in their learning through investigation, problem-solving and discovery. For the MELT, autonomy ebbs and flows from levels of low *learning autonomy*, with prescribed teaching, through to high levels of *learning autonomy* with teacher boundaries removed, and back again to low *learning aut*onomy. Such shuttling, where students *emulate*, *improvise*, *initiate* and flow back to *emulate* over time, is suggestive of spiralling *learning autonomy* throughout formal education from early childhood through primary and secondary school, to employment, technical study and university, whether a student completes compulsory education, undergraduate study or proceeds to Master's level and Ph.D.

#### **1.6 Structure of This Book**

This book's seven-chapter structure mirrors the seven core components of the MELT, the six facets and *learning autonomy*. Each chapter has as its title one of the seven central questions of MELT on a title page comprising a cartoon by Dr. Aaron Humphries [45]. Each cartoon has three characters: a young child, Albert Einstein, and a beaver, each saying something emblematic of the sophisticated thinking pertaining to a particular *facet*. The child sings a line that represents a *facet* from the song *Research Mountain* [21] except in Chap. 7 she says a line from a research article. Einstein says something for each *facet* that connects to sophisticated thinking from the Nobel prizewinning end of the learning spectrum. And the beaver calls out the affective aspect of each *facet*. In each cartoon's banner is the *facet* process, such as *embark and clarify*, and all *facet* processes are double-edged, comprising two strong, interdependent verbs for learning.

This introductory chapter asked, 'What is our purpose?' for student learning, for teaching and for the book itself. This chapter elaborated on the need for, and the possibility of, a coherent solution to the problems associated with an education in which all the parts are not well connected.

Chapter 2 is titled 'What should we use?' and this question is asked in consideration of our educational purposes. Chapter 2 provides a deep sense of the MELT, explaining in detail the six *facets* of sophisticated thinking and a consideration of how much guidance students need in terms of *learning autonomy*. Chapter 2 does this by delving into each facet in turn, interpreted in research stories from primary school (*Place Value* in the Preface), high school (*Parachute* in this chapter, below) and the account of a university graduate (*Silver Fluoride* in Chap. 2). Chapter 2 details the educational literature that informed the creation of MELT, and notes that much of that literature is descriptive in nature and lacks a theoretical underpinning.

Chapter 3 of this book, 'How do we arrange?', provides numerous examples of teachers using MELT to arrange and prompt more sophisticated thinking across the educational trajectory. These examples help to introduce others' pedagogical interpretations of what form MELT had needed to take on and how it needed to be implemented in order for it to work in each of their contexts.

Chapter 4 'What do we trust?' pulls competing theories together in productive tension and places them as the underpinning of MELT. By providing the theoretical underpinning ofMELT, the chapter specifically positions competing theories together on the *learning autonomy* continuum, with the aim of arousing awareness and choice of where to operate on or across this continuum.

Chapter 5 is titled 'What does it mean?' and provokes a consideration of seminal and recent learning theories and what they mean for contemporary educational practices and teacher action research in light of MELT. Unpacking and placing learning theories on MELT's *continuum of learning autonomy* is very practical for teacher understanding of theories and for their application of these to classrooms and online learning. Chapter 5 shows the connections between four contemporary learning theories, some of which are perceived to be in direct opposition, and the ways that teacher action research can bring theory to life. The chapter contains a chilling warning of continuing to treat educational theories as competitive rather than complementary, as Machine Teaching comes to the fore.

Chapter 6 asks 'How do we relate?' in regard to humanity's relationship with itself and the planet, and why things seemed to have panned out in a way that leads us inevitably to environmental devastation and social upheaval. The chapter proposes ways in which MELT may be part of a solution that doesn't cause more problems.

Chapter 7, 'How much guidance?' addresses the scaffolding of student learning, using MELT's consideration of learning autonomy. The chapter considers those involved in education and the amount of guidance that may be needed to make MELT work in various settings. Autonomy in MELT is a relationship word, and is intimately connected to 'ownership' of teaching and learning. The need for ownership and empowerment is a major factor when considering how much structure and what sort of guidance is needed by students and teachers alike. The coherence of student learning journeys maybe possible through teachers, parents, schools and universities pulling together in the same direction, as directed by policy, but policy is not so good at motivating that pursuit in the long-term. In order to promote ownership and empowerment, it's good for teachers to be autonomous. But students exposed to a series of overly autonomous teachers may find that their education feels broken and incoherent. How much guidance do we need for teachers and for students?

In summary, this chapter explains the need for the MELT, Chap. 2 details them, and Chap. 3 provides examples from ECE to Ph.D. level. Chapter 4 provides the theoretical underpinning, Chap. 5 considers contemporary learning theories in light of MELT, and Chap. 6 draws together the relationships that MELT may forge. Chapter 7 concludes with considerations for operationalising MELT.

# **1.7 Conclusion: Student Learning that Resonates**

The billion human brains that will be born between 2023 and 2030 need something different from the learning and education that has occurred so far across 100,000 years of human history. That billion will inherit the leadership of the earth somewhere from 2040, with all of the accumulated problems caused by humanity until that time. Those billion need diverse learning environments that resonate with their complex learning capacities, that connect to multiple educator perspectives and theories, and that enable them to address local and global issues in ways that do not cause more problems than they solve. The complexities of human learning demand an expansive and encompassing conceptualisation of learning that mirrors different disciplines, learner ages, teaching theories, learning throughout prehistory and educational research. The billion need to be those whose knowledge, skills, attitudes, values, creativity and discernment are so powerful that they can anticipate problems caused by proposed solutions, and forge solutions that don't cause more problems. The *facets* and their elaboration across the *continuum of learning autonomy* of the MELT are proffered in the next chapter as a conceptualisation that can help address this educational need.

#### **References**

**Open Access** This chapter is licensed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/), which permits use, sharing, adaptation, distribution and reproduction in any medium or format, as long as you give appropriate credit to the original author(s) and the source, provide a link to the Creative Commons license and indicate if changes were made.

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# **Chapter 2 What Will We Use?**

# **2.1 Introducing the Models of Engaged Learning and Teaching**

This chapter provides a deep and nuanced understanding of the Models of Engaged Learning and Teaching. Together, these models comprise much of what we may use across education to connect human brain development and education theory to diverse practice. Each of the models shares the six *facets* of sophisticated thinking that were foreshadowed in Chap. 1 through the analysis of *Parachute,* as well as the consideration of *learning autonomy* that is detailed below. The focus of Chap. 1 was on the role of education as a means of developing learners born from 2023 to 2030, who will be the problem-solvers, critical thinkers and researchers leading the planet from 2040. In order to achieve that purpose, the logic of Chap. 1 naturally led to the need for a conceptual framework that is broadly representative, across many perspectives, of learning and ideas about learning and teaching. Thus, Chapter 2 addresses this identified need by presenting the MELT as a viable option for a conceptualisation that we can use to span education and connect disparate parts.

In Sect. 2.2, this chapter presents an account from a university graduate who developed MELT skills at university and used these after graduation. Then Sects. 2.3.1–2.3.6 detail the six *facets* of MELT, including their affective domain, guiding questions and descriptions, and *learning autonomy*. Section 2.3.7 considers sophisticated learning as spiralling, recursive and messy and looks at the ethical and social dimensions of MELT. Section 2.4 in conclusion, is about engagement, adaptability, fluidity and ownership.

# *2.1.1 A Holistic View*

The MELT don't provide grounds for a proposal that education should develop new theorisations or characteristics. Rather, the aim is to consolidate the past 100 years of research and reflect human learning over the past 100,000 years in the MELT. Taken individually, each MELT *facet* and the consideration of *learning autonomy* is, in many respects, common, unsurprising and even too familiar. To reduce the effect of 'familiarity breeding contempt', the facets and learning autonomy are presented in a way that is intended to bring them to life, re-kindling a sense of their importance and demonstrating their synergistic power when taken as a whole. In order to achieve this, each *facet* and *learning autonomy* level is considered through the perspective of three educational contexts: primary schooling (*Place Value* from the preface), middle years of schooling (*Parachute* from Chap. 1) and a volunteering situation of a university graduate (*Silver Fluoride*, below). Through these multiple perspectives, the richness and complexity of each MELT *facet* and *learning autonomy* are partially revealed.

However, it is only possible to fully understand the MELT by perceiving the resonant energy of the set of *facets* and the continuum of *learning autonomy* together. This potential, this energy is more complex to convey. The stories give some idea of how the *facets* and *learning aut*onomy work together, functioning as indivisible parts of one precious jewel. Just as no facet of a jewel exists in isolation, all the *facets* of MELT work together to crystallise into something of shape and enduring beauty.

While the set of*facets*must be understood holistically, it can be helpful to delineate sophisticated thinking into separate facets.MELT takes what often remains implicit in education—the skills of sophisticated thinking—and makes them explicit. *Learning autonomy* intersects with the six *facets* of MELT in unpredictable, nonlinear ways. As noted in Chap. 1, the facets of MELT represent the 'what' of learning, while the *continuum of learner autonomy* represents the 'how', that is, the way in which the facets are operationalised by teachers and brought to life for students. In MELT, *learning autonomy* is considered to be a 'relationship' word, connecting learners to each other, to teachers and to the learning context.

This chapter pays more attention to the facet *embark & clarify* than to the other facets. This is because it is difficult to convey the sense of purpose epitomised by *embark & clarify*; students often find it hard to work out what their teachers want them to do, or to work out what they themselves will pursue. This difficulty is partly down to the fact that there are so many different ways to *embark & clarify* and the subject and discipline differences of how to begin often eclipse the similarities of complex starting processes. When learning something new, it is essential to begin correctly and to become increasingly clear about one's direction; the other five facets of the MELT depend absolutely on getting the purpose right. Except in the case of the simplest forms of learning, the embarking processes require clarification, often many times, over extended periods. It can be necessary to re-embark on a project time and again and re-clarify direction and purpose. The stories *Place Value* and *Parachute*, from primary schooling and secondary schooling, respectively, and the *Silver Fluoride* account (from a university graduate, below) provide an understanding of the richness of the facet and the challenges it poses for engaged learning and teaching. A clear sense of how to *embark & clarify* frequently emerges out of the other five facets, with the end of one journey becoming the beginning of the next. A description of the familiar aspects that comprise the MELT follows.

## *2.1.2 The Origins of the MELT*

The MELT began with a blank whiteboard and a question: what are we as teachers doing when we facilitate sophisticated student thinking? The resources that Kerry O'Regan and I used to answer this question were the literature and reflections on our teaching of well-scaffolded inquiry-based learning [2]. The *facets* of the MELT's were informed by the Australian and New Zealand Institute of Information Literacy (ANZIIL) standards [3], the Structure of Observed Learning Outcomes (SOLO) taxonomy [4] and Bloom's taxonomies [5, 6]. Bloom's taxonomies consist of two separate hierarchical frameworks with fundamentally different premises for the cognitive domain [5] and the affective domain [6]. The values, attitudes and emotions associated with the affective domain are embedded in each MELT *facet.* This means that the MELT comprise one framework with cognitive domain and affective domain integrated into the *facets*.

A crucial intentional structural feature of MELT is that it represents the affective domain but does not elaborate on it. Affective aspects are presented using singleword adjectives describing a learner, whereas cognitive aspects are described and elaborated much more richly. This is not because the cognitive aspects are more important than the affective aspects. Rather, it is because assessing affect is risky [7]: assessing something so important yet difficult to probe can be counterproductive. However, the affective aspects are pivotal for whether learning happens or not. For example, students are more likely to learn if they are willing to take risks, where, for example, a creative writing student who's encouraged to experiment is more likely to come up with an original metaphor.

The design intention for MELT was to enable a conceptualisation that ran from primary school to post-graduation [8]. Most educational continua represent an increase from lower ability to higher, from less sophisticated to more sophisticated thinking. Yet each student potentially engages in thinking that is sophisticated within the context of their current educational level. Rather than describing an incremental, linear type of improvement, Kerry and I perceived a need to describe a continuum that spiralled so that it could represent learning from ECE to Ph.D. level, flowing throughout the years of education. This is because any domain with a linear increase will struggle to remain pertinent across the whole educational trajectory, and is therefore not helpful for forging connections across education.

#### *2.1.3 Learning Autonomy*

The *continuum of learning autonomy* [8] in the MELT is a way of describing an educative scaffolding process that may spiral over terms, semesters and years of education and is identical in character to, and informed by, Vygotsky's zone of proximal development [9]. As noted in Chap. 1, for the MELT, learning autonomy involves the movement of students between lower and higher levels of control over their own learning; back and forth, like the tides [10]. Table 2.1 shows more detail than Chap. 1 for a version of MELT that is designed for teachers, where educator scope for autonomy is delineated into five levels.

*Learning autonomy* emerged in our early research as a decisive factor for helping educators to conceive of ways to facilitate the learning of the *facets*, and to understand the ways in which students were actually performing [8, 11]. Drawing on Dewey [12] and the science education literature, we used terminology like 'closed inquiry and 'open inquiry' [13] for the endpoints of the continuum. 'Scaffolded' was a midpoint between 'closed' and 'open', and this three-level framing still seemed to leave educational leaps in the continuum that were conceptually too far in practice for students. So two levels on either side of 'scaffolded' were added, giving five levels.

A student-oriented three-level version of *learning autonomy* and teacher 'proximity' was developed, comprising emulate, improvise and initiate as mentioned in Chap. 1, and shown in more detail in Table 2.2. Three levels are in keeping with levels of delineation that have been widely used to convey Vygotsky's ZPD from a teacher's perspective; model, scaffold and fade [14].

There is no clear border between the end of one level and the beginning of another. Interpretation of autonomy is dependent on a deep knowledge of context and students, and the *continuum of learning autonomy* is a tool for planning and analysing, not for measuring in ways that produce meaningful numbers (though we tried this approach initially) [15]. The overlap between educator-provided scope for *learning* autonomy and student *learning* autonomy as experienced by them is shown in Table 2.3.

**Table 2.1** Teacher extent of scope for *learning autonomy*

**Table 2.2** Three-level continuum of learner autonomy

**Table 2.3** Overlap between teacher scope for learning autonomy and the continuum of learning autonomy

**Scope for Learning Autonomy** (provided by educators)

For each facet, consideration can be made for the level of educator-planned learner autonomy, called the *scope for learning autonomy*, and the actual autonomy that students work with, called simply *learning autonomy*, shown together in Table 2.3. This delineation between teacher intention (scope) and actual student learning autonomy

is important for three reasons:

MELT are able to connect ECE to Ph.D., across disciplinary and transdisciplinary contexts, because the *learning autonomy* question is always pertinent across formal education: 'how much structure and guidance do students need?

# **2.2 Silver Fluoride**

The higher education perspective given below in *Silver Fluoride* is an account by Kevin, a graduate whose oral health degree was influenced by MELT. In an interview, Kevin reflects on his planning for a volunteer placement in rural Cambodia after graduation, and what happened when he went and enacted his plans with the people in that country. The version of MELT that Kevin's degree used was the Research Skill Development (RSD) framework, and this influenced the terminology that Kevin uses to describe his sophisticated thinking. Kevin's account and the earlier stories *Place Value* and *Parachute* are then used together to bring the seven core characteristics of MELT to life across the years of learning.

#### *Silver Fluoride*

Before I left for Cambodia yes—because I actually took a silver fluoride which is a product that we didn't even actually come into contact with in the Bachelor of Oral Health here. When we went for a placement for Canberra there was a tutor there that was working with us and she used it [silver fluoride] because she trained I think in Darwin or somewhere out and she was working out in the sticks and so they had that as a prevention for decay and all that sort of stuff so they were using that product a lot, but we didn't come into contact with it because it stains teeth and there's all these things that they don't like aesthetically so that's why we weren't using it, but it's like an amazing product because I was really looking into that because I thought that might be really beneficial for Cambodia because they don't get care often and they're considered more rural so I was doing a lot of research with that and I ended up purchasing some and taking it over with me and I was using it when I was over there [16].

#### **2.3 Student Experiences of MELT Facets and Autonomy**

The stories *Place Value* and *Parachute,* along with Kevin's account in *Silver Fluoride*, are used next to provide a deep understanding of each of the MELT facet's verb couplets, affective adjective, key question, detail and then a consideration of the *extent of learning autonomy* for that *facet.*

#### *2.3.1 Embark & Clarify*

*Detail*: Students respond to, or initiate their own, direction, and clarify it while considering ethical, cultural, social and team (ECST) issues.

To *embark* is to begin the journey, but how do students *clarify* what their purpose actually is? Do they know their starting point, where they are going and how they might get there? There are many different ways of commencing. This variety of starting points is not only due to the fact that different disciplines have different processes and terminologies, but also because sophisticated thinking is non-linear; it jumps around and is hard to capture. Embarking processes often require other *facets* of MELT to be actuated before what is embarked on becomes fully clarified. For example, in disciplines that start with a research question, where did that research question come from? Who framed it, and how did that educator, student or team come to that phrasing? Formal research questions sometimes start as questions of speculation and wondering about possibilities, or some intellectual dissonance that makes one curious. Sometimes the questions emerge as a synthesis of the literature, through conversations, or by clarification through teaching, and these typically require all the facets of the MELT.

The intentionally general verb *embark* is the first facet listed here because it is a logical starting point. However, it is frequently not the first facet that students begin within their learning endeavours. Sometimes we stumble on an issue or idea, sometimes we are inspired by curiosity about a phenomenon or issue, and sometimes we immerse ourselves in a lot of reading around a topic. Formal research questions are typically a 're-embarking'. That is, they follow on from a research journey that has involved much reading and synthesising of literature, observation, piloting, hypothesising, discussing, reflecting and deciding about which of all possible questions is the best one to pursue. The same is true for the processes of defining problems when problem-solving, or clarifying what decisions need to be made in evidence-based decision-making: the process of formulating a point of embarkation and clarifying takes time. The point of departure is so complex that it commonly requires all six facets of MELT to clarify and re-embark.

For students, a sense of purpose is vital in the voyage of discovery that we call learning. However, a sense of purpose is difficult to nurture if learning is prescribed by teachers, because compulsion or coercion increases the risk of compliance, where the purpose is stated and injected rather than internalised by the learner themselves. On the other hand, when students choose the direction of their own learning, there are many complexities for them and their teachers to deal with if they are to become clear about their purpose.

The central question for *embark & clarify* is 'What is our purpose?' The verbs *embark & clarify* and the question are in the plural form because of the social dynamic in teaching and learning. However, 'What is my purpose?' is the question for a student to ask themselves if engaged in an individual project. For educators trying to launch students into sophisticated (but guided) learning, the question is 'How do I convey the purpose to students?' Like all other facets, the nature of this facet can sometimes be better understood through the key question. Even better, the combination of the process verbs, description, key question and affective domain descriptor together provide a well-rounded sense of the parameters of a particular facet. To understand the mentality behind MELT, it is essential to understand the characteristics of each facet, for each MELT facet must be set into its context, and adaptations are typically required. Nowhere is the need for adaptation truer than the word of *embark*, which is almost always too general to be of direct use with students.

*Embark* emerged from the first ANZIIL standard, 'Recognises the need for knowledge' [3], which is one of the dozens of ways of commencing complex thinking. 'Embark' includes asking, hypothesising, identifying problems or patient needs, aims, goals or potential, immersion in a reading, story or context, and so on. It is an intentionally general verb, and its conceptual power lies in its inclusion of multiple ways of beginning. In particular, it embraces the numerous ways in which sophisticated thinking begins, as operationalised by those who know best; the teachers, academics, tutors, parents and students. *Embark* connotes a journey, a voyage of discovery where there may be many points of disembarking and re-embarking, as well as hidden or anticipated perils. *Clarify* suggests an ongoing process, where things may be initially muddy, which is OK as long as clarity comes over time: 'In a world deluged by irrelevant information, clarity is power' [17].

The facet *embark & clarify* also addresses one of the holes in Bloom's taxonomy: because Bloom's research strategy was to gather teachers' perspectives, the hierarchy has content knowledge as the foundational taxon, and so is suggestive of learning always commencing with content knowledge. This is frequently the case in education, but by no means is it or should it be always the case. As a hierarchical structure, Bloom's taxonomy locked in a mentality of content knowledge acquisition first, whereas MELT treats Bloom's verbs as fluid, non-sequential, but vital. Knowledge is always important in learning, but it is not always the starting point, especially in the context of connected learning that happens online.

The ethical, social and cultural considerations of engaged learning are the only elements mentioned in two facets, in *embark & clarify* and in *communicate & apply*. The six ANZIIL Standards, as the starting point for the six facets, articulated the ethical, social and cultural dimensions in the 'standard' concerned with communication. However, in 2012, a review of the facets by a variety of academics who had used MELT led to their strong demand that ethical, social and cultural dimensions also be represented not only in *communicate & apply*, but also *embark & clarify*. The academics perceived that the ethical, social and cultural dimensions were so crucial to engaged learning that they needed to be explicit first and last. The reasons for this come through clearly in *Silver Fluoride*, as Kevin engages with people living in villages in Cambodia through the use of an outmoded Oral Health treatment. Kevin's ethical decision is to prioritise dental health over aesthetics in that context, rightly or wrongly. There is always the need for teachers to consider the ethical, social and cultural dimensions first and last, and for students to learn to do so.

In terms of the social dimension, often people embark on sophisticated learning individually. However, MELT articulations tend to be in a plural form, for example, 'embark' rather than 'embarks', to emphasise the social aspects of learning. Education frequently entails social interaction, with the teacher and other students playing a major role in the learning environment even when students are working individually, as shown in *Parachute*. Determining purpose as an individual is difficult, and it is often even more complicated for teams to mutually develop a sense of direction that is clear to all involved.

The ethical and cultural elements of sophisticated thinking often do or should dictate direction, and need to be considered early in order to avoid conflict and unfair or adversarial processes or outcomes. The sorts of questions teachers or students ask, project goals they set or problems they identify all are best scrutinised from an ethical perspective, early on. For example, a project in mathematics that asks 'What did the ancient Greeks contribute to trigonometry?' may steer students away from all the work that happened in the Middle East between the era of the last influential Greek mathematicians (around 2,200 years ago) [18] and the mathematical concepts' reception in Europe (about 900 years ago) [19]. The 1,300 years in between saw much translation, development and addition of concepts by scholars in the Middle East and India, so they ended up not just with the Greeks' trigonometry, but also the Arabic– Hindu number system (that is the same system used currently in the West, including in *Place Value)*, algebra and sophisticated trigonometry applications, all from the Middle East and India [19]. A culturally aware question, instead of the one above, would be "Who contributed to the development of trigonometry, and what were their contributions?" This leaves the question open, rather than eliminating entire cultures' contributions. Of course, the process could be scaffolded: "What did the ancient Greeks contribute to Trigonometry" could be asked first, then 'What did the Middle East contribute to Trigonometry?" Alternatively, different cultures could be allocated to teams who would be asked to report back to the whole class.

This example necessarily throws up ethical dimensions too: is it ethical to give no attribution of ideas to their developers? The wrong or incomplete attribution of ideas could be seen as unethical, a form of plagiarism. Therefore, it makes sense that ethical and cultural dimensions are located also in *communicate & apply*, where, for example, citation issues may be portrayed as ethical and cultural issues, rather than as a bureaucratic enterprise. So the ethical, cultural and social dimensions need to be part of the product or outcomes of sophisticated thinking, but especially integral to the learning processes of *communicating & applying* and *embarking & clarifying.*

In *Parachute*, Shelly decided to explore differences in parachute shapes, while Katie emulated the teacher's lead to explore differences in materials. Shelly in effect self-identified 'shape' as her independent variable, and to do so required high levels of cognitive ability. She also operationalised this independent variable using two shapes: square versus round parachute. Katie, following a process that had been modelled by the teacher, faced the difficult prospect of clarifying and understanding the teacher's intention in order to answer the question, 'what is my purpose?' Shelly embarked by posing a research question, and then she seemed to formulate a null hypothesis 'If the key factors are the same, the parachute should come down at the same rate'. However, in the simple structures of Year 8 science, students were asked merely for an aim. Whether embarkation entails developing an aim, a research question, a hypothesis, a null hypothesis or a combination of these, serious work is typically required to conceptualise and articulate a way of embarking.

For Kevin in *Silver Fluoride*, embarking involved clarifying the aims of his visit to Cambodia around the general idea of providing dental help to people who usually received none, all on a volunteer's budget. Embarking for him involved the process of getting to the question 'what would happen if I used silver fluoride?' This question was prompted by his memory of a placement experience from his degree where a tutor had mentioned silver fluoride use with people in remote contexts. As his bachelor's degree did not cover silver fluoride formally, Kevin needed to be openminded in order to consider whether this compound could be relevant in the context of a developing nation. The ethical and social issues were paramount, as dentists in developed nations have stopped using silver fluoride due to cosmetic concerns [20]. But Kevin inferred that rural Cambodians would prioritise keeping their teeth over concerns about stained teeth. Kevin could have been wrong, and this was an ethically, culturally and socially charged endeavour in which he took a calculated risk.

The children in *Place Value* were in play mode around the tree, and were driven by curiosity and mimicry of other children, engaging with the familiar and the unfamiliar. The children were having fun doing what they wanted; the curriculum was unknown to me as an observer, but the learning seemed to be substantial. The children were also driven by an impetus towards togetherness, and this togetherness did not restrict their individual exploration.

Some of those children were in the classroom the next day, and had to understand the complex ideas underlying the mathematical concept of 'place value'. However, it was difficult for them to read the term correctly, let alone anticipate or deduce the purpose of the activity. Nevertheless, the children were lively and enjoyed raising their voices in a chant with the teacher. It is not clear whether students were able to connect the original chant of 'place value' to the sequencing activity they engaged in. But we will see in later facets how complex the 'place value' concept is, and how the concept itself is a voyage of discovery requiring many points of embarking and re-embarking before it can be fully grasped.

*Embark & clarify*, the MELT verb-pair denoting commencement, has proven to be fit-for-purpose because it is necessarily broad. As such, it encapsulates the many starting and re-starting points required for engaged learning and teaching, from clarifying what a teacher wants, to determining what a patient needs, to selecting independent variables, to wondering what to play with under a tree. You will see in Chap. 3 that there are many ways educators and students have brought *embark & clarify* to life, and that teachers choose verbs that are appropriate, context-based ways of commencing. Example verbs that educators have used for 'embark' include the following:

#### *Affective aspects*

Embarking is complex and, like all the facets, involves an interaction between the cognitive and the affective. Shelly's willingness to break away from the teacher's example was full of risks. Was she driven by some curiosity—provoked by an interest in shapes or a TV show on parachute design?Was she driven by the prospect of getting higher marks because she did not merely follow the teacher's example? Whatever drove her prompted a resilience, because throughout the difficult process, she kept going.

It is possible that the children playing in *Place Value* barely noticed their learning, and it's not likely that they consciously worked out what they were going to play. Rather, their decision-making was intuitive, spontaneous and curiosity driven. Open-slather learning can be bewildering, but somehow young children find it in themselves to play and learn in very unpredictable ways. In contrast, the children over seven playing nearby chose a fun activity (volleyball) with known and challenging parameters. There is a big difference between autonomous play and playing a game with pre-set rules. In terms of measured outcomes, students may learn more as a result of direct instruction than play, but that doesn't mean that the learning which comes from direct instruction is deeper, more comprehensive or more useful. It may merely be more measurable. While the ability of students to propose researchable questions is legitimately assessable, affective aspects of *embark & clarify*, like 'curiosity', are much more difficult to measure. This doesn't make curiosity less valuable or important; rather, it means that the complex and vital affective domain needs to be thoughtfully taken into consideration by educators in all learning design.

In *Place Value*, the maths learning was at the opposite end of the autonomy spectrum to the play around the tree, with a specified curriculum and predetermined answers. However, the teacher rarely corrected any child, instead gave cues like pauses in pointing at numbers, and silences. Then she continued, asking, 'is any number in the wrong place?' and gave students time to ponder. Perhaps most important, she structured in opportunities for student self-correction later in the sequence of events. She operated with tact, sensing that students needed feedback, but that feedback needed to be sensitive and non-accusatory in nature and, as much as possible, to come from other students. Terms like 'maths anxiety' spring to mind, especially if a child is struggling with more basic aspects of the lesson, like reading a number as 'fourteen' instead of 'forty-one'. For the teacher, the affective dimension of that lesson may have been something akin to 'soothing' or 'reconciling', rather than curiosity.

In terms of ethical, social and cultural aspects, the teacher used the powerful influence of spatial togetherness on the *italitali* mat and chanting of terminology to weave a sense of social cohesion and support. For students, to even pronounce the term 'place value' was challenging; initially, the students seemed to be confounded by another maths term, reading the flashcard as 'plus value'. Some of their earlier experiences with pairs of numbers placed side by side would doubtless have involved addition, which may have led to their confusion. So the knowledge base they needed to draw on was shifting, becoming more sophisticated and more abstract. The concept of 'place value' changes everything, and the students needed to work out what this teacher wanted them to do with this place that was supposed to be so valuable, but which maybe didn't seem as valuable as their tree place by the water. The question of what students 'value' influences every face-to-face class interaction, including for students who prefer and value online worlds.

The affective descriptor for *embark & clarify* needs to be responsive to context. For Kevin to begin to probe the merits of a medication which was not authorised in his degree, he was driven by empathy for the people of rural Cambodia. Kevin and eight other university students who completed the Bachelor of Oral Health were interviewed one year after completion. Analysis of the interviews showed that for them, *embark & clarify* was complex in the affective domain, initiated by numerous and diverse interactions, and seemed to be much more nuanced and context-sensitive than any other facet [21]. Sometimes, sophisticated thinking is driven by curiosity, sometimes by empathy for patient needs and sometimes by passion for an issue [16]. This starting point may be initiated by a teacher, as shown in the class context of *Place Value*, and in such cases, the challenge is to clarify what the teacher wants. In cases where the starting point is initiated by a student, the process of clarification can end up being even more complex, with students needing to fine-tune the question, aim or need. In addition to *curious*, the study in the Oral Health context found other affective descriptors that impelled graduates to *embark*: passion, ownership, interest in learning, implications of not researching, boredom and the need to justify [16]. Therefore research is showing that *embarking & clarifying* has, to date, the most complex cognitive and affective domains. An implication is that this facet requires more context-specific modelling by teachers than currently occurs, more practice in diverse contexts and more explicit connections between contexts. If that all were to occur, then the metacognition of students in relation to how they *embark* will be enhanced, and they will develop a sense of purpose for their own learning.

Einstein looked to the affective domain to explain his success as a learner: 'I am not especially gifted or talented. I am only very, very curious' [22]. Einstein's self-characterisation is one reason that 'curious' is used as a placeholder for affect in MELT. However, other affective descriptors are often more pertinent to the context and should be chosen carefully by educators or students and used instead. At times, identifying excess and deficit affect associated with each facet is useful, and for *embark & clarify* these are *obsessive* and *disengaged,* respectively.

#### *Autonomy*

Each facet may place its own demands on students, experience by learning experience, task by task, assessment by assessment, project by project, including how much autonomy is provided and how much each student operates with. The two stories and the graduate account are next compared and contrasted in terms of *learner autonomy* in order to elucidate this concept. The children playing under the tree embarked with a high level of autonomy, with no obvious supervision. They determined what they would play, where, with whom and for how long. But the next day in the maths class, three of those same children were grappling with the teacher's aim for the lesson. Their embarkation was highly prescribed and required sophisticated and abstract thinking. The students had an oral familiarity with numbers, but found it difficult to get the right-to-left orientation correct. It was daunting for them to understand what value a specific place or location gave a numeral compared to another numeral. The class embarked on learning content knowledge specified by the teacher and with which few students were familiar, and this required much clarification and re-clarification.

Kevin determined to explore the value of silver fluoride without boundaries set by others. The potential risks and benefits of the substance were his to weigh up, and his *innovative* approach may have led to some severe problems. His decision to act in such an autonomous way may have been driven by his empathy for the people, his curiosity about a now-abandoned medical approach, or any number of other affective factors.

Shelly took the opportunity to pose her own question, about parachute shape, *improvising* in a way that was in keeping with the *scaffolded* scope provided, with some teacher parameters and occasional guidance. Katie, in the same classroom, *emulated* the teacher's example and stuck to a prescribed question about parachute material.

Shelly's method of embarkation resulted in different ramifications to Katie's. Shelly's own choice of independent variable led to unanticipated problems, making engagement with the other MELT facets substantially more complex than it was for Katie. The surprising element in *Parachute* is that Shelly seemed so clear so quickly about her direction, and never wavered from it. Even though she experienced multiple problems and hold-ups as she *improvised* and *innovated*, she actually submitted her final report on time, along with others who *emulated* the teacher's modelling. For many students, regardless of educational level, this quick clarification would not have happened, and they would consequently have failed to submit a report of any substance. The pressures are often against a student to be too innovative, and sometimes the perceived or actual risk causes students to emulate instead.

The two school stories and the graduate's account show the diverse range of student autonomy that was evident for *embark & clarify*. A similarly diverse range of autonomy was also evident in the case of the other facets, as shown below. Table 2.4 summarises the highest level of autonomy that was observed for each facet as demonstrated by participants in the stories and account.

**Table 2.4** The highest level of *learning autonomy* evident for each facet, story by story

Within the same learning context, different students work at differing points on the *continuum of learning autonomy*, regardless of teacher intention, and this is seen in *Parachute*. Some students frequently seek out clarification, ask what is next, request specified processes, and pursue a multitude of ways of working with the autonomy akin to *emulate*, regardless of whether the teacher provides a learning task that is engineered for students to *improvise* or *initiate*. In *Parachute,* Katie emulated the teacher's model for all six facets, while Shelly initiated *evaluating, organising* and *analysing* and improvised in the other three *facets*. Same classroom facilitation, with two very different student experiences. The same six-year-olds in *Place Value* were playing highly autonomously one day and learning with *prescribed* facilitation the next. This demonstrates that, in MELT, autonomy is not a characteristic that one acquires, but something which varies according to the relationship of a learner to teachers, other learners and the context.

#### *2.3.2 Find & Generate*

*Detail*: Students *find* information and tools, and generate data/ideas using appropriate methodologies.

The MELT facet *find & generate* is concerned with using methods to make available elements that we will use, as dictated by a particular purpose. These 'elements' could be the information or data needed to address a research question—tables of results from published articles, for example, or data from one's own experiments. Elements could be physical or electronic tools, equipment or manuscripts. A chemist once said 'A couple of months in the chemistry lab can save you a couple of hours in the library' [23]. This facetious comment, written before the advent of the Internet, is a reminder that seeking already-existing information can prevent the unnecessary wastage of resources required to generate data. Seeking others' information or generating one's own data both require methodologies that are learned over time and that are context-specific.

Kevin the graduate was prompted by his impending visit to consider whether silver fluoride may be useful in Cambodian villages. With this purpose in mind, his selfdetermined need was to look up product and usage information, find out about side effects, and consider the costs, packing and customs requirements associated with taking silver fluoride overseas. When in Cambodia, he also had to *find* patients whose needs were well-suited to his treatment and not apply a one-size-fits-all strategy. Shelly's task looks more complex, as she needed to generate primary data and a protocol to achieve this, as well as coming to the realisation that she had to control the size of the parachute, and therefore use mathematical equations to calculate its optimal area.

The six-year-olds in *Place Value* had to *find* the 'place' that bestows value on numerals. For each two-digit number, the six-year-olds had to locate the numeral on the left and interpret it differently than if it was by itself. This was not at all straightforward, as evidenced when the students read 'forty-one' as 'fourteen', and the group of eight students inserted forty-one immediately after eleven in the sequence of numbers. Finding the right 'place' made all the difference in terms of determining the correct number sequence, and the task was initially beyond the understanding of almost the whole class. We wouldn't normally think of reading two-digit numbers as 'finding', but that may be because we forget how difficult the task is the first time around, when reading numbers of more than one digit requires locating the left-hand numeral in a two-digit number and assigning that number a special value. Locating the place of value was potentially bewildering for those who did not know their left hand from their right.