teaching & learning philosophy statement

spring 2019

The most spiritual experiences in my life occur when knowledge crystallizes my foggy under­standing of the world. My religion occurs in transform­ative moments where knowledge—a piece of theory, a diagram, a sentence, a word—transmutes confusion into a new way of being. I don't believe in god; I believe in knowledge.

---

I come from a matrilineal tradition of artists and makers. As a child, I had the privilege of watching my mother complete a corres­pondence City & Guilds in textile art. She cultivated a practice of applied learning through making. Through curious obser­vation I learned to do the same. I came to the disci­pline of design because it blends my thirst for knowledge, making, and problem solving with my innate empathy. It is these same things that fuel my passion and skill for design education.

I have the privilege of teaching design studio courses as an instructor in the Bachelor of Interaction Design program. These are dynamic, living studios delivered to adult learners. My philosophy relates to this sort of teaching and learning environment. As with my design practice, I approach my classroom with an empathic mindset and the below are the manifest­ations of the approach I take when teaching. My teaching and learning philosophy is derived from my own teaching experience and informed by the work of B. Brown, R. Buchanan, N. Cross, M. Davis, J. Mezirow, D. Price, and S.R. Taylor.

Design and my role as an educator

I believe design (the action) is an innately human activity. It involves manifest­ing that-which-is-desired in the here and now. It differs from design (the discipline). A livelihood where one undertakes design (the activity) as a profession. The difference between the two lies in intentional experience with situated, reflective practice. I define 'interaction design' as the design of the interaction between people and products, objects, things, and spaces. At present in the IXD program this centres around technology-mediated interactions.

As an instructor I teach skills, method­ologies, and reflective practice that allow students to build an interaction design practice. I classify method­ologies as the overarching processes, frameworks, and strategies undertaken to solve what R. Buchanan calls ‘wicked problems’. Skills are the means by which designers articulate and prototype those sol­utions. Where method­ologies are used time and time again throughout the course of a designer’s career, the specific skills and tools employed in a design practice will be forever changing and evolving.

In my teaching, I have noticed that students tend to see skills as the core component of design. Thus, my role as an instructor becomes two-fold. I must assist students in discovering the importance of methodology as a component of their design practice, while also fostering their ability to both identify and teach themselves new skills through critical reflection. This ties in to my own belief about the benefits of learning through making; I aim to foster students’ sense of curiosity because of its ability to transcend barriers to learning.

Feedback and critique

There is a long-standing tradition of design education being taught through an apprenticeship model, and the studio project is a signature pedagogy of design. Students are lead through projects that allow them to develop skills and method­ologies they will use in their future design practice. I believe this model of instructor­-guided reflective practice is very beneficial for students, as it gives them an opportunity to turn a theoretical understanding into meaningful practice. I believe my role as an instructor is to guide this process in a level-appropriate manner that allows each student to develop. I have found M. Davis’s three pedagogical styles of design classrooms useful in articulating my approach to feedback in the classroom.

Davis outlines three primary pedagogical styles found in design classrooms: art direction approach, Socratic method, and coaching pedagogy. Each has its place in my classroom, and I rely on my empathic understanding of students to determine which approach will be most beneficial in a moment. I will often undertake a coaching pedagogywhen working with students. Rather than art-directing them with a specific cue, I suggest action-oriented strategies that can be accomplished in a reasonable time frame which will allow the student to draw meaningful conclusions on their own. I find the Socratic method of leading students with probing questions works well for more advanced students, or students further along in a design project. I find the art direction approach is best left to the end of a project to help students, especially in group projects, bring their work together. When used at the beginning of a project, art direction perpetuates a master/­apprentice power dynamic of which I am not partial. Although it may produce work that looks good, it does not provide the same opportunity for student growth and understanding. Students may be pleased with their result but wholly unsure of why the work is successful. My role as an instructor is not to solve a student’s problems for them, but to assist them along their own journey. I employ all three of these strategies in individual, group, or class settings as course needs may dictate.

In my classroom I strive to create a space where students can succeed, but also fail quickly, safely, and gracefully as they often learn more from failure than from success. A huge portion of teaching design is observation. There is a tendency for students to stay within their comfort zone. Working in a comfortable creative space is good for building up a designer’s confidence, but never leaving it will cause their practice to stagnate. It is my job as an instructor to observe when a student would grow more from the challenge of moving outside their comfort zone. That said, I wholly reject the pedagogy of intimidation often framed as a right-of-passage by the design industry. I have endured my share of vicious studio critiques and found they tend toward more of an assault on personal character than constructive feedback. Desk critiques can be a stressful time for many new designers, and if this stress causes a student to become defensive or shut down the opportunity for learning has disappeared. As M. Davis discusses, new designers are especially prone to this as they have not “learned to separate discussions of their work from their perceptions of self-worth” [1]. This does not mean I believe in tiptoeing around hard conversations, rather, I’ve found there is a more empathic way for me to deliver critical feedback that is constructive rather than destructive.

Getting curious

Students do not arrive in my classroom as pristine slates ready to be filled with knowledge (the reality is much messier and infinitely more beautiful). They step into the room with complex identities made of their intersections of privilege and oppression. These identities have lead to unique lived experiences which have given them a particular understanding of the world, but more importantly, their place in it—what Mezirow refers to as a "frame of reference". For better or for worse, every student enters my class with their own narrative about who they are and the limits of their capacity to learn. And in this VUCA world where my students are experiencing mental health concerns at an unprecedented rate, these 'frames' present my biggest obstacle (and opportunity) for teaching and learning.

I do not believe in the moral binary of 'good' and 'bad' students. Students' 'frame of reference' informs their behaviour in and out of the classroom. Sometimes these frames create highly teachable learners who's identities and lived experiences create few barriers to learning. In other instances, students identities and lived experiences leave them with frames and skills that create numerous barriers (e.g. difficulty with emotional regulation, poor executive function). These barriers are often invisible, both to learners and educators, and they frequently manifest in behaviour typically associated with 'bad' students—what D. Price called "ineffective behaviours". Ineffective behaviours include everything from poor class attendence to procrastination, and are usually met with judgement which frequently leaves learners holding on to some significant shame. All learning stops when the shame sets in.

Empathy and curiousity are the biggest tools I use to fight shame in my classroom. Instead of judging ineffective student behaviour, I get curious about it with the them. We unpack it together and find out what's at the root. When a learner shares their circumstance "with someone who responds with empathy and understanding, shame can't survive" [2] and once it's gone we can move forward with learning.

---