Blog #2

Gee: This view of the mind, as I pointed out earlier, is quite different from the traditional one psychology takes. In the traditional view, concepts are like general definitions in the mind (like definitions for words in dictionaries). In the traditional view, the mind thinks through stored “facts” and grand generalizations that are like statements in logic (like “All books have covers”). In the view I am developing here, the mind thinks and acts on the basis of something like stored images (simulations) of experience, images that are complexly interlinked with each other (thereby attaining some generality) but that are always adapted to new experiences in ways that keep them tied to the ground of embodied experience and action in the world. . . . If you believe the traditional view, you think schools should teach children to memorize facts and should overtly tell them important generalizations (91).

Priebe: Mr. Gee, in your book there are a great many abstract concepts, or to put it another way, there is a great deal of your writing about thinking, and some of these concepts you have labeled with terms like situated learning and embodied actions. Now, we readers, of course, are not using your concepts (as of yet) in any type of situated meaning; therefore, we are and you are, at least up to this point in your book, embracing what you claim is the traditional view of learning, i.e., we are using and memorizing definitions which we, the readers, have not put into any type of action or embodied action that would make it, by your definition, memorable for us. For example, last week in class, Dr. Muhlhauser, asked us for the definitions of terms from Gee’s book, and in point of fact, I agree with him on this. I myself have determined or hypothesized that the way to grasping the abstract concepts in Gee’s book is to internalize a short mental definition of them, that is at my fingertips, so to speak. Furthermore, I am daydreaming or mentally rehearsing these concepts as I read Gee’s book. I have already determined a number of ways that I might employ Gee’s ideas into writing assignments for my students—and undoubtedly, I will learn many more before Gee is through.

From these facts, I would hypothesize that both Dr. Muhlhauser and myself believe in memorizing facts or at least labels for concepts, abstract concepts, that we have not yet performed embodied actions in. So, my main point here is that learning is a combination of both the traditional view and Gee’s view that “the mind thinks and acts on the basis . . . of stored images (simulations) of experience” (91). I am memorizing (or at least trying to) definitions for Gee’s concepts, and in fact, he is giving them to me to internalize although I have yet to perform an embodied action with them. Score that round for the traditionalists.

In my opinion, I will soon forget most of what I am learning here if I do not employ it in an embodied action, i.e., some kind of assignment for my students that I design and implement. Of course, Gee would agree with this, and Dr. Muhlhauser, this is certainly what you have in mind—I would guess! But again, my central idea here is that in attempting to grasp Gee’s book, I am memorizing terms, and that I am finding it useful to memorize terms; however, I recognize that first, I am tying some of these ideas back into my past teaching experience, or past embodied actions, and older studied (hopefully memorized) definitions, and second, my learning would be easier if I was practicing inside some semiotic domain like a video game—although I have never played a video game in my entire life.

But what of the internal actions of the mind? Do we really have to practice a concept to memorize it? Internally (by this I mean cognitively), do we not practice and link concepts to already learned concepts? Of course, we do, and the only embodied action we need is the internal action of the mind.

Where is Gee headed? In one way, he is headed for a roomful of students playing video games that will give them active practice in the semiotic domain of essay writing. We, the teachers, will monitor our students’ progress by walking around and seeing how they are doing. If we are fat and out of shape, we undoubtedly can even sit at our desks and monitor and talk to our students from there. Sound cozy? Some students stare into their computer screens all day now anyway, so I guess, what is the difference?

There must be a marriage between Gee’s ideas and the traditionalists. As the old saying goes, “Don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater.” Just for fun, here is another one from George Patton: “If everyone is thinking alike, then, no one is thinking.”

Gee: The four-stage probe-hypothesize / reprobe / rethink process that underlies the formation of the child’s mind [and any kind of serious practice in writing or the arts and music, and so on] is not different in kind from the process by which expert practitioners operate (92).

Priebe: Absolutely agreed and noted.

Gee: In the end, my claim is that people have situated meanings for words when they can associate these words with images, actions, experiences, or dialogue in a real or imagined world (105).

Priebe: Maybe this is why I understand what you mean a good deal of the time, for I have had enough experience to know that learning by doing is the best way. In fact, let me elaborate. You have discussed practicing in a subdomain, and you have emphasized that this practice is useful, but that in the end, there is no substitute for embodied action in the semiotic domain. Of course, we learn to write by writing, and not so much by reading about writing until after we have written. So I understand you perfectly. Another analogy: no matter how much I practice my guitar, it is never the same—or hardly ever the same—as playing in front of a live audience. Another guitarist said to me once that we are all two different guitarists; the one we are at home and the one we are in front of an audience. I knew what he meant, alright.

Gee: The dilemma then is this: For efficacious learning, humans need overt information, but they have a hard time handling it.

Priebe: Mr. Gee, I hear you, and I have already stopped telling my students too much. I am trying harder than ever to elicit their responses and interpretations before I tell them. For example, today, we were reading a NY Times’ article about how “the month of August had knocked the White House on its heels.” Now this was a reference to how Congress had recessed before passing the President’s proposed health care legislation causing it to lose steam (sorry, another metaphor), but nowhere in the article did it explain that. I questioned them thoroughly about what kind of language was being used in this sentence. Then I asked them if they understood the reference, before I told them what it referred to. And I have become very reluctant to tell them anything they can figure out for themselves. They did well on Friday & today.

Gee: Of course, no child can do this [refashion himself] if no such virtual identity and world—a world of imagined scientists and science enacted in words, deeds, and texts—is present in the classroom.

Priebe: I think your idea of a virtual identity is a good one, so I am going to try something this week in my classroom—perhaps tomorrow. I am going to tell my students that if they have ever felt as if they were not good at history, or have ever felt limited in academic ability, then, they might give themselves a new virtual identity when they come into my social studies class. I have set up the next worksheet with a place for two names; their name and a name blank immediately underneath it that is labeled Virtual Identity/Historian. What have I got to lose?

I will also explain that gang affiliations or gang names will probably not be sufficient unless they feel that their gang identity is academically adroit. “In other words, guys, your new name, your new virtual identity is your new chance to transcend past deficiencies. This is your chance to remake yourself when you come into our classroom with a new virtual identity as an able and proficient historian.” Something like that.

Williams: When several items are in close proximity to each other, they become one visual unit. . . . By grouping similar elements into one unit . . . the page becomes more organized (17). Don’t be a wimp (18). Information that is subsidiary to the main message . . . can often be as small as 7 or 8 point (20). The idea of proximity doesn’t mean that everything is closer together; it means elements that are intellectually connected, those that have some sort of communication relationship, should also be visually connected (21).

Priebe: Wow, you obviously know what you’re doing, and everything you worked on looked great. I did not even notice the name of the Shakespearean reading group until after you fixed their advertisement; First Friday Club. What an improvement.

Williams: . . . Don’t run the risk of losing potential customers because they give up searching through the vast field of slanted text. . . . Upgrading your design skills is a gradual process and begins with clear communication (23). Group the items that have relationships (25). . . . All caps are hard to read (27).

Priebe: I got it. Start with the proximity principle first. I think you explained things very well and it is fun reading your book. Your examples and explanations are great. Time for an embodied action? I’m a little nervous.