The power of suggestion exerts a mighty influence on us. Nobel Prize-winning behavioral economist Richard H. Thaler, whose book Misbehaving was a captivating read about a field I knew nothing about, examined the ways people are steered by others to make smart decisions that they themselves view as smart decisions after making them. As Thaler and his onetime research partner Cass Sunstein said it, their goal was to “influence choices in a way that will make choosers better off, as judged by themselves.” Thaler addressed the power of such persuasion, saying, “People can be nudged to save for retirement, to get more exercise, and to pay their taxes on time, but they can also be nudged to take out a second mortgage on their home and use the money on a spending binge.” In other words, people can be nudged to make good choices or to make poor choices.
Although the work of Thaler and Sunstein focused on the realm of economics, teachers and other adults in an educational setting have the opportunity to employ the power of the nudge in their interactions with students. In fact, a nudge from a teacher might be the kick-start that sends a student on the path to college.
We have reached the time of the year during which schools start asking students and parents to make decisions about their course selections for next year. Teachers often find themselves in the position to recommend classes to their students and offer advice, sometimes in a official capacity (as in a list submitted to counselors of students who should enroll in specific courses—whether at an advanced or remedial level—or a signature of recommendation on a student’s schedule card) and sometimes in a less formal way (such as giving advice to a student who asks your opinion about what class to take).
Sometimes data comes into play when recommendations are made. Teachers mine student data and identify cutoff points to see which students hit the magic number that makes them eligible for honors courses. Data can be dangerous, though, when it’s the only measure we use to measure student potential.
As I see it, test scores and other data are best used to identify potential in students who might not self-identify into rigorous courses or who might otherwise escape notice of those who are recommending. For instance, a student who didn’t grow up speaking English or who doesn’t come from a language-rich household might score lower on a standardized measure that is linguistically based, but that student’s high score on a nonverbal test of thinking skills (such as the nonverbal portion of the COGAT) indicates overall cognitive ability that might be developed over time in language-related areas. In that case, the student’s standardized data might be a flag to a teacher looking to nudge a student to consider taking a more challenging class.
The danger of standardized scores is that they are often used to justify gatekeeping, the practice of only admitting the top students into classes and excluding those who don’t fit a preconceived profile. I hear teachers speak of students as not being “honors (or AP) material.” Gatekeeping thrives on fixed mindsets like this, and doors of possibility remain closed to students. What teachers may not consider when discouraging a student from taking an advanced class is the long-term impact of not taking that class. Closing an academic door early on makes future doors harder to open.
The students who most need the nudge from teachers are the ones who don’t see the possibilities within themselves or who might not believe that honors and AP courses are for kids like them. Teachers should remain on the lookout for indicators of potential in their students and should let students know what they spot. Curiosity, a highly developed sense of humor, persistence, problem solving abilities, leadership skills, critical thinking, and organization are among the traits teachers should point out to students who possess them. Those students might not see those traits in themselves and may have never considered that those traits could indicate potential for success in challenging coursework.
I always notice the mentions of teachers in the award acceptance speeches that occur this time of year. “I’d like to thank my seventh grade teacher, Mrs. So-and-So, who saw in me something I couldn’t see and encouraged me to try out for the school play, launching my acting career.” “If it weren’t for Mr. Such-and-Such in tenth grade, I wouldn’t have believe that I could become a writer.” Successful adults can often look back and identify that one adult who identified their potential, pointed it out to them, and gave them a nudge in the right direction. A nudge says, “I believe in you.” A nudge can say, “You can do it.” A nudge can say, “Here’s something you do well that will help you succeed.”
A nudge can also say, “This isn’t for you.”
I don’t want to be the adult who makes that decision on behalf of a young person. I don’t want to be the educator who relies on data to such an extent that I fail to see the human behind the numbers. I want to nudge for good rather than evil, for growth rather than discouragement, and for opportunity rather than oppression.
I want to be thanked someday in an award acceptance speech. I know it’s statistically unlikely to happen, but I figure my odds go up each time I nudge another kid to consider a previously-unconsidered possibility.
No comments:
Post a Comment