The Myths of Learning Styles

This week’s article summary is The Myth of Learning Styles.

When I was a kid the type of classroom I liked had textbooks, reading assignments, and handouts. I liked classroom discussions (especially as I got older) but really didn’t get much out of  group projects.

As you’ll see from the article below, while the idea of learning styles remains popular in schools, the reality is that knowing what you prefer doesn’t correlate with how you actually learn. I may prefer steak to hamburger, yet either one fills my stomach when I’m hungry.

The article includes a popular learning style inventory called VARK, a set of 16 questions that helps identify whether you prefer learning experience that are aural, visual, kinesthetic, or reading/writing.

Based on what I wrote in the first sentence about the type of classroom I preferred, my VARK results of Read/Write (11), Aural (4), Visual (1), Kinesthetic (0) seem pretty accurate.

Yet knowing how you like to absorb material is much different from how you actually place it in your long-term memory. As a student, I may have like to read textbooks but to learn the material I needed to employ many different strategies to remember, let alone be able to apply, it.

So, the take away from the article is it’s not bad for teachers to talk to students about how they like information presented to them, yet regardless of how we like to receive information there are certain techniques that are much more effective  to learn/memorize/remember content.

Joe

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In the early ‘90s, a New Zealand man named Neil Fleming decided to sort through something that had puzzled him during his time monitoring classrooms as a school inspector. In the course of watching 9,000 different classes, he noticed that only some teachers were able to reach each and every one of their students. What were they doing differently? Fleming zeroed in on how it is that people like to be presented information. For example, when asking for directions, do you prefer to be told where to go or to have a map sketched for you?

Today, 16 questions like this comprise the vark questionnaire that Fleming developed to determine someone’s “learning style.” Vark, which stands for “Visual, Auditory, Reading, and Kinesthetic," sorts students into those who learn best visually, through aural or heard information, through reading, or through “kinesthetic” experiences.

Experts aren’t sure how the concept spread, but it might have had something to do with the self-esteem movement of the late ‘80s and early ‘90s. Everyone was special—so everyone must have a special learning style, too.

The thing is we don’t. Or at least, a lot of evidence suggests that people aren’t really one certain kind of learner or another. In a recent study, thousands of college students took the vark questionnaire to determine what kind of learner they supposedly were. The survey then gave them some study strategies that seem like they would correlate with that learning style. Not only did students not study in ways that seemed to reflect their learning style, those who did tailor their studying to suit their style didn’t do any better on their tests.

The study’s conclusion is that students typically develop certain study habits, which, once formed, are hard to break. While the students in the study seemed interested in their learning styles, they did not adjust their established study strategies based on them. And even if they had, it wouldn’t have mattered.

Another recent study found that students who preferred learning visually thought they would remember pictures better, and those who preferred learning verbally thought they’d remember words better. But those preferences had no correlation to which they actually remembered better later on—words or pictures. Essentially, all the “learning style” meant, in this case, was that the subjects liked words or pictures better, not that words or pictures worked better for their memories.

‘There’s evidence that people do try to treat tasks in accordance with what they believe to be their learning style, but it doesn’t help them,” says Daniel Willingham, a psychologist at the University of Virginia. In 2015, he reviewed the literature on learning styles and concluded that “learning styles theories have not panned out.”

That same year, a Journal of Educational Psychology paper found no relationship between the study subjects’ learning-style preference (visual or auditory) and their performance on reading- or listening-comprehension tests. Instead, the visual learners performed best on all kinds of tests. Therefore, the authors concluded, teachers should stop trying to gear some lessons toward “auditory learners.” “Educators may actually be doing a disservice to auditory learners by continually accommodating their auditory learning style,” they wrote, “rather than focusing on strengthening their visual word skills.”

The reality is people have different abilities, not styles. Some people read better than others; some people hear worse than others. But most of the tasks we encounter are only really suited to one type of learning. You can’t visualize a perfect French accent, for example.

Yet the "learning styles" idea has snowballed—with more than 90% of teachers believing it. The concept is intuitively appealing, promising to reveal secret brain processes with just a few questions.

Willingham and others recommends that people should stop thinking of themselves as visual, verbal, or some other kind of learner.  Everyone is able to think in words, everyone is able to think in mental images. It’s much better to think of everyone having a toolbox of ways to think, and think to yourself, which tool is best?

The most important thing, for anyone looking to learn something new, is just to really focus on the material.

So, in other words, learning styles inventories might help you learn about yourself, but they will not help you learn material.

Let Your Kids Play

This week’s article summary is Parents, It's Time to Get of the Way and Let Your Kids Just Play

When I was about 10 or so, I had three close friends and after school, on weekends, and throughout the summer we hung out and played—sports, army, riding our bikes, etc.

Behind our neighborhood a new batch of homes were being built. When the workers left for the day, we would explore the construction site. We rode our bikes around the new development and commandeered anything left behind--nails, scraps of wood, paint cans, etc. We climbed up the wooden outlines of the homes precariously balancing on what would become a house’s second story and roof. We pretended to be American soldiers and crept on our bellies to other houses that to us were Nazi strongholds. 

Yes, we occasionally cut ourselves on nails and fell down (and fell off) and got bruised and even a little bloody. We never told our parents what we were doing, instinctively knowing that it would never be sanctioned or deemed safe by any adult. It was the thrill of a little danger of the new housing site that made our time there so adventurous, so much fun, and so memorable. 

The article below made me think of this time in my childhood and of the importance of giving kids—both at home and at school—the latitude for free, unstructured play. 

I liked how the author defined the qualities of kid-only play: nonliteral, intrinsically motivated, process oriented, freely chosen, joyful.

As research has shown, free play not only gives kids the opportunity to be creative but to develop interpersonal skills (learning how to get along, how to lead sometimes, and how to follow at other times) and to make up, follow, and amend as needed the rules of our group.

I know we live in an bubble-wrap age where child safety is paramount, yet, as the article attests, sometimes we as adults need to let go of this fear and let kids explore, have fun, and most importantly learn on their own.

Joe

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When our children were in elementary school, we lived in the heart of a mega-metropolis with little opportunity for outdoor activities and rare glimpses of winter weather. So we took a vacation to the mountains to partake in some of the pleasures of winter. We packed ski suits, hats, gloves, scarves and goggles and drove for hours.

Finally we made our way outside. The adults wanted to head straight for the lifts, but our children had to be coaxed and cajoled out of the mounds of snow around the entrance to the lodge. They touched the snow with their bare hands and threw some in the air, stepping into the deep drifts and poking at the white fluffy goodness with their ski poles.

It became increasingly apparent that, although we had poured a lot of money and effort into a fun ski trip, the children really just wanted to play in the snow. We decided to amend our plans and gave the kids the afternoon to play.

I learned an important lesson that day. My definition of play is different from my children’s understanding of — and need for — play. To me, play is a fun activity with a clear goal, often structured and reached by following step-by-step directions. Children, on the other hand, require time to explore, manipulate, and experiment on their own so they can make sense of the world around them.

Despite our good intentions, adults inhibit children’s play in several ways.

We schedule play while controlling our children’s free time. We fill our children’s days with activities from morning to night, including school, classes, organized sports, lessons and crafts. While these activities can be valuable and important, unlike play, they are goal-oriented and may be motivated by a fear of falling behind.

Creative play often results from boredom and idleness. When children have time, resources and tools at their disposal, they surprise us with imaginative ways of keeping themselves occupied and amused. Ready access to paper, pens, crayons, markers, scissors, glue, tape, empty boxes and toys without specific instructions can lead to ingenious play.

We provide scripts for dramatic play and discourage conflicts. If our children enjoy particular stories and characters, we buy them corresponding costumes and representative toys. We encourage them to reenact scenes and perform associated songs and dances. We assist them in assigning roles and provide an audience for their performances.

True dramatic play occurs when children negotiate among themselves about the roles they will take on and when they determine what to say or what will happen next in a scene. Play takes time to set up and plan. It develops organically and can rarely be duplicated. It may involve healthy tension and conflict between children as they exchange ideas and opinions.

We are overly safety-conscious and risk-averse. We discourage children from climbing, trying to do things in new ways and straying too far from the watchful eyes of their caregivers. As children constantly hear words of caution, they become afraid to try new things. If we let go a little, we might see that they are capable and resilient. Children are hard-wired to play. They are naturally curious and want to explore and act out scenes. To be classified as play, children’s activities must be:

Nonliteral. In imaginative play, I experiment with new possibilities. When I play, I can be a mermaid, I can fly, and this rock can become a beautiful jewel or a tasty treat.

Intrinsically motivated. When I play, I am doing what I do because I like it. I don’t need to know that I am learning something or that I will be stronger or healthier after having done it. I play because I want to.

Process oriented. I find enjoyment in the planning and organizing of my play. A play scenario may take two hours to set up and prepare for but be completed within two minutes of implementing the plan.

Freely chosen. I decide what to do, how to do it and when to start and stop. My companions and I set the rules and adapt them to the changes we encounter but rarely anticipate.

Joyful. I enjoy what I am doing and I like the people I am doing it with.

When we step back and let go, giving our children the freedom to explore and create their own adventures, we give them the gift of play and all the benefits that brings. We also make life easier on ourselves, because it requires less planning and intervention by adults.

Adult-initiated fun activities and child-initiated free play are both valuable and essential to healthy development. I’m glad I learned to recognize the difference between the two, and to plan for both.