I made a comment during a science teaching chat a few days ago that raised some objections among some other science educators.
It was during #NGSSChat. The topic was “using phenomena to teach science,” and I said something about how much we’re expected to know about the phenomenon before we can use it for teaching.
I should say, at this point, that I was excited that someone challenged me about this. While we sometimes don’t want to be contradicted, I think most teachers respect that a thoughtful challenge from another professional can lead to greater understanding and better teaching all around. So, it was kind of cool. (I think it’s a sign of a good chat when people are willing to respectfully challenge questionable claims. Kudos to #NGSSChat.)
My comment was something like this:
It’s sometimes better to use phenomena that the teacher doesn’t completely understand. It can produce more learning.
The response, which came from one teacher and was seconded (and third-ed), was that teachers should know what they are teaching and should understand how it relates to standards, or something like that. I think that the position among the various responders was different, but amounted to this: science teachers need to be in control and need to select phenomena that relate to what they are teaching.
I think there are two conflicting but valid components to this, and I think it’s important to think about both. It’s up to the teacher to decide what to do about this conflict, but it’s an important decision.
First, I agree that a science teacher – or any teacher – needs to choose what is taught in his/her classroom. It should address standards, and it should meet the needs of the students in the classroom. We shouldn’t, for example, spend three weeks learning about the first amendment in a genetics class. Or shooting free throws in literature class. (Although it might be fun to connect to those things, wouldn’t it?) There are things students are supposed to learn from us, and it’s our responsibility to do our best to ensure that students are learning them. In other words, we need to be – at least in some indirect way – in control of the direction of the class.
However, there is more here. We cannot, and should not, expect to be 100% in control of all of the learning done in our class at all times. It’s simply impossible. No student that I have ever met can stay completely focused and tuned in for every class, every day, if the teacher is merely lecturing and/or delivering content. It just doesn’t work. Furthermore, even if I am standing in front of the class lecturing, I can’t guarantee that all students will understand everything I say exactly as I want them to. It’s entirely possible that they will understand most of what I say, but in a slightly different way. Or some concepts will be more clear than others. Or something will be confusing, and I won’t realize it, and the four students who don’t understand won’t be willing to ask for clarification. It just doesn’t work that way.
I think any veteran teacher would be willing to admit that classroom control of learning is a continuum. Some teachers have more than others. Some students are more controlled than others. I also don’t think that this is good teaching. I wouldn’t want to learn like this. Most of my least favorite classroom experiences came in classes that were like this. (I had a teacher once – 6th grade social studies, not far from what I do – who filled her chalkboard every day with an outline of the chapter we were reading. We were expected to copy it down every day while she explained things. I loved the subject, but hated the class.)
Back to phenomena. If I’m using examples of real-world occurrences and asking students to make observations, develop hypotheses, make predictions, do experiments to test those predictions, and then analyzing the results to adjust hypotheses and go through the process again, I’m giving my students a chance to “do science” much like it really happens for “real scientists.” That’s a good thing. But if it always happens in the science classroom, then science is something you do at school, not something that happens in the “real world.”
What if students were encouraged to analyze phenomena from outside the classroom, from their own lives?
It would be something that is useful, close to “real science,” employs scientific methods and thinking, and could really motivate and engage learners. But what if your biology students are doing chemical reactions? What if your physics students are fascinated by the two kinds of mold growing in their garage? (That’s a safety concern, of course. But interesting.) The minute science leaves the classroom, it leaves the teacher’s control. What if – gasp – the kids stumble onto a problem that puzzles professional scientists?
One of things I tried last year as a science teacher was to encourage my physics students (yes, I teach a unit of middle school physics – mostly Newton’s Laws and what those entail) to learn about dark matter and dark energy. It relates to both physics and gravity, and it certainly connected with our astronomy unit that we typically teach at the end of the year. I don’t really understand dark matter the way that I understand inertia or projectile motion, as a teacher. But I did a lot of homework, and I explained it as best I could. I was open with my students about it, too. I went so far as to disagree with the prevailing wisdom about it – I think our understanding of gravity is flawed, not that there is a mysterious and invisible material that makes up 96% of the universe. This also made sense because of a field trip we were able to take to Fermilab, where there are several experiments being conducted about dark matter and energy, and where there are many professional scientists who are working hard to understand it.
One thing I didn’t do – and perhaps I should do – is invite students to analyze phenomena from their own lives. I wouldn’t have control over what they analyze. I might not understand everything about what is going on if I don’t have access to the circumstances of the experiment or if the student doesn’t completely understand or perceive the variables involved. I know the subject and the standards that I teach, and I want the students “doing science” more than I want them memorizing the results of other people’s scientific work.
To me, this is a constant struggle. My students will be starting science with me in a few weeks, and there is a long list of things they should know about cells and genetics. But shouldn’t they know a little bit about the practice of biology, too? If I invite them to analyze their own eating habits and the results of those habits, aren’t I letting go of some control? Is that a good choice?



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