| LEARNING
FROM THE INSIDE-OUT
"More words count less."
- Lao Tzu Tao te Ching
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| Physical
education is about learning, we can all agree on that. But what's
your style? How do you learn new things? Well, that probably
depends on your genes, your body, your personal history and
your preferences. It also depends on your culture. |
Consider my experience as a beginning
African drummer. My teacher's name is Ibrahima, and he's the real
thing, a true master drummer. He played with Stevie Wonder for awhile,
and was the head choreographer for the Senegal National Ballet.
Not only is he a master drummer, he's a dancer and singer. He's
physically educated, happy, and healthy.
Once a week, my classmates and I gather for our drum class; the
Americans seated around Ibrahima in a circle. Ibrahima greets us
and lays down a pattern of tones, bass notes, and slaps. He expects
us to play back his "call," but instead, before the vibrations
even settle out of the air, we reach for our notebooks. Almost in
unison, every last one of us grabs for paper and pen, desperate
to capture the pattern before it fades out of memory.
Ibrahima watches this spectacle and breaks out into hysterical
laughter. "What are you doing?" he asks in his French-Senegalese
accent. Someone offers an explanation, but it goes nowhere fast.
We tell him that we need to capture the song so that we can remember
it, but he rejects our reasoning outright. "Stop writing,"
he instructs bluntly. "That's not going to help you. Learn
it with your body. Learn it with your muscles. Learn it with your
flesh. Trust your body. That's how you learn it." He shakes
his head, astonished at the magnitude of our ignorance.
Embarrassed, we reluctantly put down our notebooks, although some
of us continue to scribble furiously, ink on palms and forearms,
desperate to capture the fleeting rhythm. Ibrahima laughs again
and lays down the riff once more, demanding that we play it, whether
we're ready or not. "Start playing," he instructs. "You
can figure it out once you're in motion."
Outside-In Versus Inside-Out
Obviously, we Westerners are out of our element in Ibrahima's
class. Our learning methods simply don't fit his teaching style.
Raised to be note-takers and abstractionists, we feel compelled
to write it all down. We don't trust our bodies or our memory. And
so, we try to capture the music in symbols, hoping that we can sort
it all out at a later time.
What we're attempting, of course, is to use our conscious, rational,
cognitive brains to instruct our tissue - learn by abstraction,
then direct the body how to perform. Explain it first and then execute
the act. We believe in a top-down system of command-and-control.
Or, to put it another way, we try to learn from the outside-in.
Ibrahima on the other hand, believes in learning from the inside-out.
Start with the action and explain it later if you must. Learn by
doing. Learn it with your tissue, your flesh. Your muscle has memory
for movement, so why not start there? Bluff if necessary, but put
something out there. Get some motion going so you'll have something
to work with. This is how drum and dance has been taught in Africa
for hundreds of generations. No instruction manuals, no abstract
theories, just lots and lots of authentic experience.
Ibrahima doesn't know it, but his philosophy is supported by recent
discoveries in neuroscience. We now know that learning is best accomplished
by physical action and engagement; in other words, by doing. There
is simply no better way. Sensory and motor circuits adapt to how
they are used, not by some conceptual model imposed from above.
We learn movement by moving; everything else is a side-show.
Just Move It
This inside-out learning philosophy isn't just a product of African
culture. We also see it coming from Nike headquarters in Beaverton,
Oregon. Nike has the right slogan in "Just do it," but
scarcely anyone knows why. It sounds catchy and right, but we miss
the deeper message. Like Ibrahima, Nike suggests that action is
the basis for physical learning.
In a way, "Just do it" is radically counter-cultural.
Westerners are used to learning from the outside-in; explain first
and hope the concepts trickle down into the body. Get the abstractions
right, then try to apply them. Become a knowledgeable expert, and
then apply your knowledge to the body.
But Africans, and Nike, advise the opposite. That is, start with
the doing. Start with action. If necessary, bluff. You don't have
to know all about what you're doing; you don't have to know the
origins and insertions of all the muscles; you don't have to know
the details of glucose metabolism or biomechanics. Get some motion,
and then adjust it later. Act first, then explain it if you need
to. Action is primal. Action is fundamental.
The Body is a Musical Instrument
Musicians everywhere are united on this score. Theoretical abstractions
don't carry much weight; it's time-on-task that makes all the difference.
Learn to play by playing. Learn to move by moving. Keep at it. Practice,
practice, practice. Abstract knowledge is nice if you can get it,
but it's action that makes the musician.
Oddly, we have yet to realize this common ground between music
and athletics. In our institutions, we tend to segregate athletics
and music into two entirely different departments, often located
at different ends of campus. And of course, we demand that athletic
and music teachers undertake entirely different courses of study
so as to earn entirely different credentials.
This isolation and segregation is a big mistake, and a complete
misunderstanding of physical learning. In fact, the musician and
the athlete are engaged in a learning process that is far more similar
than it is different. Ultimately, the only difference between the
musician and the athlete is that the athlete works with big muscles
of the rear, thighs and core, while the musician works with smaller
muscles of fingers and arms. Both are after the same thing: quality
movement that's smooth, powerful and lively. And both are working
the nervous system. Both are working sensation and motor feedback
loops to produce highly coordinated, orchestrated movement.
As a thought experiment, let's try putting the music teachers in
charge of physical education. While we're at it, let's take the
physical educators and put them in charge of music instruction.
Sure, there would be an awkward transition, with some noise and
wasted effort in the process, but ultimately everything would work
out very nicely indeed. Musicians and coachers are both physical
performance teachers after all. Either way, the game is basically
the same.
So let's get back to the fundamentals. Leave the abstractions for
another day. Get some movement going, and then work with that. Play
the music, play the body, play the drum; it's all the same thing.
Frank
Forencich,
Author of the Exuberant
Animal
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