Adaptive teacher development?

Ok, let’s be honest here. This post is about teacher training, but ‘development’ sounds more respectful, more humane, more modern. Teacher development (self-initiated, self-evaluated, collaborative and holistic) could be adaptive, but it’s unlikely that anyone will want to spend the money on developing an adaptive teacher development platform any time soon. Teacher training (top-down, pre-determined syllabus and externally evaluated) is another matter. If you’re not too clear about this distinction, see Penny Ur’s article in The Language Teacher.

The main point of adaptive learning tools is to facilitate differentiated instruction. They are, as Pearson’s latest infomercial booklet describes them, ‘educational technologies that can respond to a student’s interactions in real-time by automatically providing the student with individual support’. Differentiation or personalization (or whatever you call it) is, as I’ve written before  , the declared goal of almost everyone in educational power these days. What exactly it is may be open to question (see Michael Feldstein’s excellent article), as may be the question of whether or not it is actually such a desideratum (see, for example, this article ). But, for the sake of argument, let’s agree that it’s mostly better than one-size-fits-all.

Teachers around the world are being encouraged to adopt a differentiated approach with their students, and they are being encouraged to use technology to do so. It is technology that can help create ‘robust personalized learning environments’ (says the White House)  . Differentiation for language learners could be facilitated by ‘social networking systems, podcasts, wikis, blogs, encyclopedias, online dictionaries, webinars, online English courses,’ etc. (see Alexandra Chistyakova’s post on eltdiary ).

But here’s the crux. If we want teachers to adopt a differentiated approach, they really need to have experienced it themselves in their training. An interesting post on edweek  sums this up: If professional development is supposed to lead to better pedagogy that will improve student learning AND we are all in agreement that modeling behaviors is the best way to show people how to do something, THEN why not ensure all professional learning opportunities exhibit the qualities we want classroom teachers to have?

Differentiated teacher development / training is rare. According to the Center for Public Education’s Teaching the Teachers report , almost all teachers participate in ‘professional development’ (PD) throughout the year. However, a majority of those teachers find the PD in which they participate ineffective. Typically, the development is characterised by ‘drive-by’ workshops, one-size-fits-all presentations, ‘been there, done that’ topics, little or no modelling of what is being taught, a focus on rotating fads and a lack of follow-up. This report is not specifically about English language teachers, but it will resonate with many who are working in English language teaching around the world.

The promotion of differentiated teacher development is gaining traction: see here or here , for example, or read Cindy A. Strickland’s ‘Professional Development for Differentiating Instruction’.

Remember, though, that it’s really training, rather than development, that we’re talking about. After all, if one of the objectives is to equip teachers with a skills set that will enable them to become more effective instructors of differentiated learning, this is most definitely ‘training’ (notice the transitivity of the verbs ‘enable’ and ‘equip’!). In this context, a necessary starting point will be some sort of ‘knowledge graph’ (which I’ve written about here ). For language teachers, these already exist, including the European Profiling Grid , the Eaquals Framework for Language Teacher Training and Development, the Cambridge English Teaching Framework and the British Council’s Continuing Professional Development Framework (CPD) for Teachers  . We can expect these to become more refined and more granularised, and a partial move in this direction is the Cambridge English Digital Framework for Teachers  . Once a knowledge graph is in place, the next step will be to tag particular pieces of teacher training content (e.g. webinars, tasks, readings, etc.) to locations in the framework that is being used. It would not be too complicated to engineer dynamic frameworks which could be adapted to individual or institutional needs.

This process will be facilitated by the fact that teacher training content is already being increasingly granularised. Whether it’s an MA in TESOL or a shorter, more practically oriented course, things are getting more and more bite-sized, with credits being awarded to these short bites, as course providers face stiffer competition and respond to market demands.

Classroom practice could also form part of such an adaptive system. One tool that could be deployed would be Visible Classroom , an automated system for providing real-time evaluative feedback for teachers. There is an ‘online dashboard providing teachers with visual information about their teaching for each lesson in real-time. This includes proportion of teacher talk to student talk, number and type of questions, and their talking speed.’ John Hattie, who is behind this project, says that teachers ‘account for about 30% of the variance in student achievement and [are] the largest influence outside of individual student effort.’ Teacher development with a tool like Visible Classroom is ultimately all about measuring teacher performance (against a set of best-practice benchmarks identified by Hattie’s research) in order to improve the learning outcomes of the students.

You may have noticed the direction in which this part of this blog post is going. I began by talking about social networking systems, podcasts, wikis, blogs and so on, and just now I’ve mentioned the summative, credit-bearing possibilities of an adaptive teacher development training programme. It’s a tension that is difficult to resolve. There’s always a paradox in telling anyone that they are going to embark on a self-directed course of professional development. Whoever pays the piper calls the tune and, if an institution decides that it is worth investing significant amounts of money in teacher development, they will want a return for their money. The need for truly personalised teacher development is likely to be overridden by the more pressing need for accountability, which, in turn, typically presupposes pre-determined course outcomes, which can be measured in some way … so that quality (and cost-effectiveness and so on) can be evaluated.

Finally, it’s worth asking if language teaching (any more than language learning) can be broken down into small parts that can be synthesized later into a meaningful and valuable whole. Certainly, there are some aspects of language teaching (such as the ability to use a dashboard on an LMS) which lend themselves to granularisation. But there’s a real danger of losing sight of the forest of teaching if we focus on the individual trees that can be studied and measured.

Vocabulary apps – time and motivation

I have been putting in a lot of time studying German vocabulary with Memrise lately, but this is not a review of the Memrise app. For that, I recommend you read Marek Kiczkowiak’s second post on this app. Like me, he’s largely positive, although I am less enthusiastic about Memrise’s USP, the use of mnemonics. It’s not that mnemonics don’t work – there’s a lot of evidence that they do: it’s just that there is little or no evidence that they’re worth the investment of time.

Time … as I say, I have been putting in the hours. Every day, for over a month, averaging a couple of hours a day, it’s enough to get me very near the top of the leader board (which I keep a very close eye on) and it means that I am doing more work than 99% of other users. And, yes, my German is improving.

Putting in the time is the sine qua non of any language learning and a well-designed app must motivate users to do this. Relevant content will be crucial, as will satisfactory design, both visual and interactive. But here I’d like to focus on the two other key elements: task design / variety and gamification.

Memrise offers a limited range of task types: presentation cards (with word, phrase or sentence with translation and audio recording), multiple choice (target item with four choices), unscrambling letters or words, and dictation (see below).

As Marek writes, it does get a bit repetitive after a while (although less so than thumbing through a pack of cardboard flashcards). The real problem, though, is that there are only so many things an app designer can do with standard flashcards, if they are to contribute to learning. True, there could be a few more game-like tasks (as with Quizlet), races against the clock as you pop word balloons or something of the sort, but, while these might, just might, help with motivation, these games rarely, if ever, contribute much to learning.

What’s more, you’ll get fed up with the games sooner or later if you’re putting in serious study hours. Even if Memrise were to double the number of activity types, I’d have got bored with them by now, in the same way I got bored with the Quizlet games. Bear in mind, too, that I’ve only done a month: I have at least another two months to go before I finish the level I’m working on. There’s another issue with ‘fun’ activities / games which I’ll come on to later.

The options for task variety in vocabulary / memory apps are therefore limited. Let’s look at gamification. Memrise has leader boards (weekly, monthly, ‘all time’), streak badges, daily goals, email reminders and (in the laptop and premium versions) a variety of graphs that allow you to analyse your study patterns. Your degree of mastery of learning items is represented by a growing flower that grows leaves, flowers and withers. None of this is especially original or different from similar apps.

The trouble with all of this is that it can only work for a certain time and, for some people, never. There’s always going to be someone like me who can put in a couple of hours a day more than you can. Or someone, in my case, like ‘Nguyenduyha’, who must be doing about four hours a day, and who, I know, is out of my league. I can’t compete and the realisation slowly dawns that my life would be immeasurably sadder if I tried to.

Having said that, I have tried to compete and the way to do so is by putting in the time on the ‘speed review’. This is the closest that Memrise comes to a game. One hundred items are flashed up with four multiple choices and these are against the clock. The quicker you are, the more points you get, and if you’re too slow, or you make a mistake, you lose a life. That’s how you gain lots of points with Memrise. The problem is that, at best, this task only promotes receptive knowledge of the items, which is not what I need by this stage. At worst, it serves no useful learning function at all because I have learnt ways of doing this well which do not really involve me processing meaning at all. As Marek says in his post (in reference to Quizlet), ‘I had the feeling that sometimes I was paying more attention to ‘winning’ the game and scoring points, rather than to the words on the screen.’ In my case, it is not just a feeling: it’s an absolute certainty.

Sadly, the gamification is working against me. The more time I spend on the U-Bahn doing Memrise, the less time I spend reading the free German-language newspapers, the less time I spend eavesdropping on conversations. Two hours a day is all I have time for for my German study, and Memrise is eating it all up. I know that there are other, and better, ways of learning. In order to do what I know I should be doing, I need to ignore the gamification. For those, more reasonable, students, who can regularly do their fifteen minutes a day, day in – day out, the points and leader boards serve no real function at all.

Cheating at gamification, or gaming the system, is common in app-land. A few years ago, Memrise had to take down their leader board when they realised that cheating was taking place. There’s an inexorable logic to this: gamification is an attempt to motivate by rewarding through points, rather than the reward coming from the learning experience. The logic of the game overtakes itself. Is ‘Nguyenduyha’ cheating, or do they simply have nothing else to do all day? Am I cheating by finding time to do pointless ‘speed reviews’ that earn me lots of points?

For users like myself, then, gamification design needs to be a delicate balancing act. For others, it may be largely an irrelevance. I’ve been working recently on a general model of vocabulary app design that looks at two very different kinds of user. On the one hand, there are the self-motivated learners like myself or the millions of other who have chosen to use self-study apps. On the other, there are the millions of students in schools and colleges, studying English among other subjects, some of whom are now being told to use the vocabulary apps that are beginning to appear packaged with their coursebooks (or other learning material). We’ve never found entirely satisfactory ways of making these students do their homework, and the fact that this homework is now digital will change nothing (except, perhaps, in the very, very short term). The incorporation of games and gamification is unlikely to change much either: there will always be something more interesting and motivating (and unconnected with language learning) elsewhere.

Teachers and college principals may like the idea of gamification (without having really experienced it themselves) for their students. But more important for most of them is likely to be the teacher dashboard: the means by which they can check that their students are putting the time in. Likewise, they will see the utility of automated email reminders that a student is not working hard enough to meet their learning objectives, more and more regular tests that contribute to overall course evaluation, comparisons with college, regional or national benchmarks. Technology won’t solve the motivation issue, but it does offer efficient means of control.