The Power And Pitfalls Of Letting Students Learn Through Experience
Inquiry and projects can be engaging, but if kids don't already have much knowledge of the topic they're likely to be ineffective.
Students learn best from explicit instruction, the evidence shows. But projects and “simulations” often engage students and leave lasting impressions. So what’s the most effective way to teach?
The most vivid memory I have of my schooling is my sixth-grade history class, which was devoted to medieval England. We formed ourselves into “guilds” of merchants and artisans, dressed up as peasants, and finished the year with a feast where we ate with our hands, wiping them afterwards on an accommodating dog. All of these things happened over fifty years ago, but they’ve stuck in my mind.
Teachers have long been drawn to various forms of hands-on, experiential, or largely student-guided learning: projects and role-playing simulations like those I experienced in sixth grade. Like me, students often enjoy them and retain lasting memories. And yet, as Greg Ashman lays out cogently in his recent book, The Power of Explicit Teaching and Direct Instruction, if you want students to actually learn something, the evidence clearly shows that having a teacher stand at the front of the room and explain things works a lot better.
Why? A fundamental reason is that working memory—the part of consciousness that processes new information—can easily get overloaded, especially if learners aren’t already familiar with the material. Having a clear explanation or “worked example” can ease the cognitive burden. And engaging in projects or simulations can add to it in ways that impede learning.
Also, students are most likely to remember whatever they spend the most time thinking about. If they’re learning about the Middle Ages by making a detailed model of a castle, they’ll probably remember more about the process of constructing the castle—figuring out what materials to use, making them fit together—than anything about the Middle Ages. Or if they have a medieval feast, they may remember how much fun it was to wipe their greasy hands on a delighted Irish setter.
Hands-on learning in the form of experiments can be a better fit for science classes. But even there, kids can be sidetracked or dazzled by effects without grasping the underlying reasons. When I was in preschool, I came home one day and excitedly described a science experiment. And why did that happen, my mother asked? “It’s magic!” I exclaimed.
That’s not to say that kids should just get lectures. Teachers also need to check frequently to make sure students understand the material. They need to ask questions or assign activities that require practice and analysis. But the basic idea is that the teacher should be directing rather than merely facilitating learning.
That conflicts with the philosophy generally taught at schools of education, which holds that it’s better to be the “guide on the side” than the “sage on the stage.” That mindset is surely one reason teachers are drawn to activities that are largely student-directed and active. But they probably also sense that—as Ashman’s title says about explicit teaching—experiential learning can be powerful. In fact, sometimes it’s too powerful.
There are numerous reports of well-intentioned simulations gone seriously awry: a Black 10-year-old being assigned the role of an enslaved person at a “slave auction,” for example, or a “living history” exercise in which one fifth-grader dressed as Hitler and gave the Nazi salute, inspiring his classmates to do likewise. At one Texas high school, a day-long simulation designed to acquaint students with the sexism of the code of chivalry was canceled after parents complained. Among other things, girls were instructed to walk behind boys, address them with a lowered head and a curtsy, and obey any “reasonable request” they issued. These activities raised a stir not because they were time-wasters but because they triggered strong reactions and emotions.
True, those reactions don’t necessarily have much to do with what students are learning. If the fifth-graders had really understood what the Nazi salute signified, would they have playfully copied it? On the other hand, a Black student who gets “auctioned” is probably gaining a visceral understanding of what it feels like to be enslaved, but in a potentially traumatizing way.
There are ways to make simulations work, but they require careful thought and planning. Before students undertake a simulation, they need to have adequate knowledge of the topic—ideally built through explicit instruction. Especially when the topics are sensitive, teachers should avoid pitting students against each other.
One simulation had the teacher act as “the Gestapo” and all students assume the roles of Jews; some reported deep emotional engagement, and a survey showed that their knowledge of the Holocaust “improved greatly” afterwards. Another, designed to foster understanding of the Bill of Rights, allowed students to opt into a “day without rights.” After being prohibited from speaking with friends at lunch, they had a better understanding of the importance of peaceful assembly. While neither of those simulations should be seen as a substitute for explicit teaching about World War II or the Constitution, they can help students retain the content they’ve learned and deepen their understanding of it.
To help young children understand injustice, it may be best not to rely on actual historical examples: in one famous experiment, a teacher divided her third-grade class according to eye color, favoring blue-eyed students one day and brown-eyed ones the next. Years later, as young adults, former students said the experience had taught them important lessons. “Nobody likes to be looked down upon,” one said.
Projects don’t carry as much risk of trauma as simulations, but they can easily become time-wasters. A classic example is the “Grecian urn” lesson, in which seventh-graders would supposedly gain an understanding of Ancient Greece by wrapping balloons with papier-mâché and decorating the “urns” with something personally meaningful. And yet, some recent studies have found that project-based learning can be effective—at least, when the projects are carefully designed, highly structured, and teachers get extensive guidance in how to implement them.
There, of course, is the rub. Teachers may be told during their training that they should use projects and simulations as much as possible, but they’re often not equipped to determine at what stage in the learning process these activities make sense or how to design and use them effectively. One study of simulations in social studies classes—titled “Try Not to Giggle if You Can Help It”—found that 12 of 14 had significant problems. Some, like one on 19th-century immigration that had students bounce up and down to “experience” the ocean voyage, were largely pointless. Others had no pedagogical aim. And others ended up transmitting factual inaccuracies.
Unless teachers get excellent training and support in harnessing the potential power of experiential and hands-on learning, it’s safer to rely primarily on direct instruction. It’s true that projects can be powerfully engaging, and simulations can enable students to understand the experiences of others at a gut level. But reading or listening to first-person narratives or historical novels can go far in accomplishing those goals, with less risk of time-wasting or trauma. So can well-crafted writing assignments. Teachers need support with direct instruction too, but it’s easier to provide, and the results are more reliable. Reading Ashman’s book would be a good start for any teacher seeking guidance.
I remember concepts like villeinage and strip-farming from my sixth-grade study of Medieval England, but it’s not because I wiped my hands on the dog. I’m sure my teacher explained them to me.
This post originally appeared on Forbes.com.