When I was a child, a popular activity tablet (the paper kind) included pages full of dots. The pattern wasn't clear initially, but as I pored over the page--following the preset path, of course--a picture emerged. Once I could see the image, I used crayons (yes, wax) to add detail and finish what someone else had begun. The result was always an object any small person could recognize. Never mind that it had started from flecks of ink on a page.
We are heading northeast this week from Nepal to Zimbabwe, where Vella is charged with building a team of teachers from young people who had been serving as soldiers in the guerrilla army. The primary sponsor was a Adult Literacy Organization of Zimbabwe (ALOZ), a group whose material was not deemed appropriate for the politically charged country at that time. Vella was on the team, but was not the driving force, and her highly developed organizational skills were not immediately employed. As she describes it, her " ...professional soul screamed in frustration" (p. 194) at the slowness of the process and the lack of direction. Vella was solely a consultant, and had to apply discipline to observe, offer suggestions and just wait. She mentions in this same passage that she found, "the necessary joy of detachment." I can only admire her ability at this point, because my skin is crawling at the idea of having all the right answers, and no one asking the right questions.
The situation was more complicated than any we'd find here, however difficult we think we have it. Due to the tense political situation, the groups needing training in the south would not agree to be trained in the same groups as those from the north. Yes, I see the irony, or whatever that is. Anyway, two sets of training sessions had to be designed for two very different types of participants, with the assistance of two distinct representatives from each locale. Only they understood their history, the culture of their people.
Vella knew all this, and knew enough to know that the team she was helping to build needed to write their own story, to paint their own picture. Her literacy coordinators had been driving tanks and flying planes. They had to be shown respect for their shared experiences and for their cultural knowledge. She was there to ensure respect was shown for the ultimate learners in the design of the materials. She was there to provide the links.
We are heading northeast this week from Nepal to Zimbabwe, where Vella is charged with building a team of teachers from young people who had been serving as soldiers in the guerrilla army. The primary sponsor was a Adult Literacy Organization of Zimbabwe (ALOZ), a group whose material was not deemed appropriate for the politically charged country at that time. Vella was on the team, but was not the driving force, and her highly developed organizational skills were not immediately employed. As she describes it, her " ...professional soul screamed in frustration" (p. 194) at the slowness of the process and the lack of direction. Vella was solely a consultant, and had to apply discipline to observe, offer suggestions and just wait. She mentions in this same passage that she found, "the necessary joy of detachment." I can only admire her ability at this point, because my skin is crawling at the idea of having all the right answers, and no one asking the right questions.
The situation was more complicated than any we'd find here, however difficult we think we have it. Due to the tense political situation, the groups needing training in the south would not agree to be trained in the same groups as those from the north. Yes, I see the irony, or whatever that is. Anyway, two sets of training sessions had to be designed for two very different types of participants, with the assistance of two distinct representatives from each locale. Only they understood their history, the culture of their people.
Vella knew all this, and knew enough to know that the team she was helping to build needed to write their own story, to paint their own picture. Her literacy coordinators had been driving tanks and flying planes. They had to be shown respect for their shared experiences and for their cultural knowledge. She was there to ensure respect was shown for the ultimate learners in the design of the materials. She was there to provide the links.
These literacy coordinators could be taught what they needed to convey information, but first they had to learn to listen to one another--I'm seeing that this book could have had no other name--and to respect one another in a different way than on the battlefield. This process began with each team having the opportunity to choose a name. They were then asked to select songs that might be useful in teaching. Together they chose. Together they sang. Together they found commonality that solidified their purpose. This was the first connection.
The second was the closing exercise each day. Each team produced a proverb, by memory or imagination, that synthesized its learning for the day. It struck me that this activity forced reflection and confirmed learning transfer simultaneously. The student/teachers were connecting the dots for themselves while learning to connect the dots for others. One can only wonder at the material that generated, "On the third day the guest receives a hoe!" (p. 198). In any case, this is the language that would resonate with the target learners--those who could not write, but who could easily learn if the right words were spoken, so that connections can be made.
The second was the closing exercise each day. Each team produced a proverb, by memory or imagination, that synthesized its learning for the day. It struck me that this activity forced reflection and confirmed learning transfer simultaneously. The student/teachers were connecting the dots for themselves while learning to connect the dots for others. One can only wonder at the material that generated, "On the third day the guest receives a hoe!" (p. 198). In any case, this is the language that would resonate with the target learners--those who could not write, but who could easily learn if the right words were spoken, so that connections can be made.