I was interested in andragogy long before I ever knew what it was. I struggled throughout all eight years of my undergraduate career, always feeling like I didn't have much choice in what I was studying, let alone how I was to study. It all seemed so predetermined. You go to a boring lecture for three hours per week, you read a bunch of books selected by some old curmudgeonly scholar, and finally, you subject yourself two or three essays and a barrage of multiple choice questions somehow help the curmudgeon determine whether you "got it" or not.
By the sixth year of my studies, I was feeling pretty much like an idiot. Maybe that was because I spent much of my intellect trying to invent new ways to keep myself from being ejected from the university. It's not that I liked being there so much; I just didn't know where else I was supposed to go. Besides, if I left school, I could no longer be part of student government, write for the school newspaper, change people's views about sexual identity as a gay activist or volunteer on the activities board; what's worse, I wouldn't have access to the library, where I'd often spend countless hours reading everything but the books on my professor's tired and depressing reserve list.
The funny thing was, I was engaged in learning the entire time I was at school, even if my transcript was taking more hits than Iraqi civilians during the Second Battle of Fallujah. It's just that no one was recognizing me for what I was learning. How could they? The system was stacked against an independent learner like myself. There was no way, not even if they tried, they could reward me for consistently drawing outside of the academic lines.
Feeling like a dullard, I dropped out of school with one semester to go (or did they throw me out, I can't recall). I escaped to Miami and landed alongside thousands of Cuban rafters somewhere under the shade of the palms on a Miami Beach perched on the precipice of redevelopment. Flop houses were all over the place, and not a word of English could be heard anywhere from Ocean Drive to Alton Road, from 1st Street to 85th. So I picked up a bilingual dictionary, moved in with the first guy I connected with on a non-linguistic level, and started to take part in an authentic learning experience. And without the help of any teachers or academic tutors (relying totally on the kindness of strangers I'd meet along the way), I became nearly fluent in Spanish in less than eight months.
I returned to my university at the end of the most cerebrally stimulating eight months with a new passion for learning. I got tested by the Spanish department, and pulled off an "intermediate mid" rating from a very skeptical and crusty old professor. I ultimately made my way through my last year of college, keeping my grades at a solid B. That is until the very end. I procrastinated on a huge assignment during my last class (which took place during another stimulating authentic learning experience - this time in central Mexico) and ended up with an F as the final grade on my transcript. A fitting send off, I suppose, for the guy who made it through to the end in spite of the system that was seemingly designed to see him fail.
Anyway, that's where my interest in andragogy was born. And that's when I began to take control of my own learning (I'll talk more about this later).
When Malcolm Knowles first noticed at a YMCA in 1946 that adults learn differently than children, he began a slow revolution in education that even still has not quite caught up to the mainstream. But it's getting there. And as the number of non-traditional professional educators grows, this revolution has the potential to impact adults and the societies they influence for generations to come.
This blog is dedicated to all of the people out there who have been disenfranchised from the traditional educational system and are seeking recognition for their own unique passions for learning, and to those who are committed now to guiding the way. For more information about andragogy, check out these links:
http://www.mtsu.edu/~itconf/proceed00/fidishun.htm
http://coe.sdsu.edu/eet/Articles/andragogy/index.htm
By the sixth year of my studies, I was feeling pretty much like an idiot. Maybe that was because I spent much of my intellect trying to invent new ways to keep myself from being ejected from the university. It's not that I liked being there so much; I just didn't know where else I was supposed to go. Besides, if I left school, I could no longer be part of student government, write for the school newspaper, change people's views about sexual identity as a gay activist or volunteer on the activities board; what's worse, I wouldn't have access to the library, where I'd often spend countless hours reading everything but the books on my professor's tired and depressing reserve list.
The funny thing was, I was engaged in learning the entire time I was at school, even if my transcript was taking more hits than Iraqi civilians during the Second Battle of Fallujah. It's just that no one was recognizing me for what I was learning. How could they? The system was stacked against an independent learner like myself. There was no way, not even if they tried, they could reward me for consistently drawing outside of the academic lines.
Feeling like a dullard, I dropped out of school with one semester to go (or did they throw me out, I can't recall). I escaped to Miami and landed alongside thousands of Cuban rafters somewhere under the shade of the palms on a Miami Beach perched on the precipice of redevelopment. Flop houses were all over the place, and not a word of English could be heard anywhere from Ocean Drive to Alton Road, from 1st Street to 85th. So I picked up a bilingual dictionary, moved in with the first guy I connected with on a non-linguistic level, and started to take part in an authentic learning experience. And without the help of any teachers or academic tutors (relying totally on the kindness of strangers I'd meet along the way), I became nearly fluent in Spanish in less than eight months.
I returned to my university at the end of the most cerebrally stimulating eight months with a new passion for learning. I got tested by the Spanish department, and pulled off an "intermediate mid" rating from a very skeptical and crusty old professor. I ultimately made my way through my last year of college, keeping my grades at a solid B. That is until the very end. I procrastinated on a huge assignment during my last class (which took place during another stimulating authentic learning experience - this time in central Mexico) and ended up with an F as the final grade on my transcript. A fitting send off, I suppose, for the guy who made it through to the end in spite of the system that was seemingly designed to see him fail.
Anyway, that's where my interest in andragogy was born. And that's when I began to take control of my own learning (I'll talk more about this later).
When Malcolm Knowles first noticed at a YMCA in 1946 that adults learn differently than children, he began a slow revolution in education that even still has not quite caught up to the mainstream. But it's getting there. And as the number of non-traditional professional educators grows, this revolution has the potential to impact adults and the societies they influence for generations to come.
This blog is dedicated to all of the people out there who have been disenfranchised from the traditional educational system and are seeking recognition for their own unique passions for learning, and to those who are committed now to guiding the way. For more information about andragogy, check out these links:
http://www.mtsu.edu/~itconf/proceed00/fidishun.htm
http://coe.sdsu.edu/eet/Articles/andragogy/index.htm
