Tag: learning

I don’t know, I need to learn

Here’s an exchange I had with my 4 year old while on a recent walk around the pond:

“Papa, guess what: penguins cannot fly.”

“Why is that?”

“I don’t know, I need to learn.”

We were walking past some ducks when he said this so that must have triggered the fact about penguins, which I’m guessing he learned from one of his Yoto cards.

I love that part—that urge to share what he knows. But I also love his response to my follow-up question: when confronted with something he didn’t know, he both admitted ignorance and expressed the desire to investigate further.

Both of those impulses come naturally at his age, so I’m not saying he’s special in that way. I just really respect and enjoy the preschooler’s tendency to declare what they know (or think they know) and remain insatiably curious about what they don’t.

On learning and vibes

Experimental psychologist Adam Mastroianni wrote an interesting (if long) consideration of why we forget most of what we learn, and how “vibes” are more important than knowledge in that learning process.

That sounds a lot more woo-woo than it really is. An example he gives:

Here are things I don’t remember from high school:

– The phone number of my best friend, despite dialing it hundreds of times.

– How to play a high D on the trumpet, despite playing it for years.

– Almost everything I memorized for quizbowl competitions, despite carrying around freezer bags full of flash cards and testing myself on them over and over for months at a time.

Here are things I do remember from high school:

– How fun it was to call my best friend and talk for hours.

– How exciting it was to march onto the football field, trumpet in hand, and play a halftime show.

– How much I despised my school’s rival quizbowl team, how infuriating it was when their coach called us “reasonably intelligent,” and how I was so nervous before our championship match against them that I nearly threw up.

On vibes:

Knowledge is cheap and easily acquired. What you really need is curiosity, self-efficacy, perseverance, perspective, and hope. And those are vibes.

On what it takes to learn (and teach) through good vibes:

The students who ultimately succeed in learning R [the programming language] are not the ones who force themselves to memorize functions or do a bunch of coding drills. They’re the ones who accept they will feel stupid and that most of the rules will at first seem totally arbitrary, and who understand that they will gain great power if they just keep going. … I’ve found that the best way to transmit this vibe is to show them just how dumb I am.

On vibes as dark energy:

It is possible for teachers to send a vibe of “success in school depends on satisfying my whims.” Peers can give you the vibe of “this is all just a game before we go do whatever will pay us the most.” Buildings can say “it’s cool to cause the opioid crisis as long as you donate some money afterward.” Nobody ever has to state any of this explicitly, and usually nobody does. Vibes are like dark energy: invisible, but evident everywhere.

Moon moon moon, shining bright

I was playing soccer on the front lawn this evening with Mr. Two Years Old when the moon, waxing crescent, caught his curious eye in the encroaching darkness.

I asked him if he knew why the moon glowed. We’ve read books about it before, but he said he didn’t. I explained in the simplest language how it was sunlight he was seeing, and that it only hit part of the moon because it was round, like a ball.

After my brief lecture, he grabbed the ball and brought it next to one of the solar-powered lawn lights that illuminates our front walkway. “I want to make the soccer ball glow,” he said.

It was an excellent opportunity for an object lesson. We looked at how the ball was lit up only on one side, where the light was coming from.

I managed to photograph the view before he kicked the ball away for more scrimmaging:

I never know how much of what I explain actually makes sense to him or sticks in his mind. But I should know by now never to underestimate his intelligence and curiosity, because two year olds are made to be learners.

Build it up, knock it down

My favorite new game with 7 Months is to build a small tower with his rubber blocks—to almost as tall as he is when sitting—and watch him knock it down.

He never does it the same way twice. He’ll grab the top one and bring it to his mouth, the whole tower leaning towards him before it crumbles again. The next time he’ll kick it from the bottom. Then he’ll gently caress the middle section before pushing it, or pulling it.

There’s not much point in enjoying the building part when he knocks it down so quickly. I keep rebuilding the tower so fast because I want to watch him consider it anew every time, because the world is too new for him not to.