This post is a 2-parter! My "student side" of a recent biking lesson is at the top and my friend's "coaching side" of the story follows. I LOVE collaborating like this with other educators.
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| Me....after just one lesson! Okay...not really. |
Faced with numerous gears and trepidation about the "proper" way to ride a bike, I recalled
reading an educator-friend’s many updates on Facebook about bike rides and
thought she might be game for a riding lesson. One message to her and the date
was set.
Heather is working on her Ph.D. and has been in a coaching position with our county
for several years. I've always enjoyed her relaxed manner with the students as
well as the teachers I've seen her work with. So from the get-go I wasn't too
nervous about our meet-up even though I knew she was light years beyond me in
biking experience.
Having joked
about this experience being great fodder for a blog I couldn't help but draw
comparisons between our “lesson” and those that we face every day in the
classroom.
First of
all, I sought out the help of someone I knew had already mastered the content.
How many times in our classrooms do we squelch conversations without realizing
that our students are actually seeking help from their more experienced
peers?
As we
unloaded our bikes Heather assessed my experience level with one question, “So,
when’s the last time you rode a bike?” I reassured her that I knew that I could
ride a bike, but it was “that gear-shifting stuff” that had me worried. Plus, I
was concerned that my bike, having been assembled by an unknown person in the
backroom at Target, could possibly have been put together backwards and I wouldn't know it until a wheel fell off.
Heather
chose the local college campus which was a great area for our initial ride. We
were able to start out on level pavement so I could practice shifting gears. She
gave me simple, short instructions as we practiced - basic things that I could
have read about or Googled, but that were easy for me to grasp with an expert
by my side.
We made
several laps around the campus on pavement. I had to stop a few times in the
beginning to get my seat height worked out. Heather was quick to lend a hand,
tightening a screw that I had no idea existed. Already this free lesson was
worth gold to me! She also pointed out that I should take my bike to a real bike
shop after a few weeks to have everything tightened up and checked. I never would've thought to do such a thing, but it made total sense, especially given
my paranoia about the initial assembly of the bike.
We chatted
about school and our possible dissertation topics as we cruised around. All the
while I became more and more comfortable shifting gears and braking without
throwing myself over the handlebars. When Heather suggested trying out a trail I
was confident in her experience as my coach that I would be able to manage
whatever she led me through. How many times have we been told that trust is
critical in student-teacher relationships? Because I trusted her, I had
confidence in myself.
The trail
was great fun! I’d never ridden off pavement before and although my hybrid was
not as adept as her mountain bike at handling mud, I made it through without
incident. Again, as we navigated puddles, gravel pits, roots, etc. Heather
provided concise tips when I needed them. How often do we front-load
students with all the instructions for an activity only to find ourselves
repeating information later? No one wants to eat a steak in one bite. It's much easier to digest information one bite at a time.
After an
hour we returned to our cars and parted ways. We’d rode about 6 miles which
was great for me as a beginner. I’d come light years from where I started an
hour earlier thanks to Heather’s support. This experience further cemented my
belief in programs like The Daily Five and C.A.F.E. by The Sisters. Students
learn by doing.
Heather
could’ve met me at a coffee shop and we could’ve talked about biking. She could
have explained how to change gears and maybe even presented a PowerPoint about
proper bike assembly. I bet she could’ve found a worksheet online that would’ve
quizzed my knowledge of how to shift gears and adjust my seat.
Instead, we
biked.
Not long ago, a teacher friend of mine, Jennifer, emailed me
to announce that she’d just splurged on a new bike for herself. She was excited
about the prospect of riding, but hadn't ridden much since she was a kid, and
asked if I’d be willing to meet with her somewhere to go over the basics. She
knew I love biking and asked if I could “coach” her into getting started.
Afterward, it occurred to us that this coaching/learning
experience could be blog-worthy, and so we each have posted based on our own
perspectives. Coaching, it turns out, is not quite as intuitive as falling off a
bike, but the parallels between our ride together and coaching in general were
difficult to ignore:
1. Market yourself –
In this case, Jennifer had identified me as someone who could help with her
new-found hobby. I’d “advertised” my passion for riding bikes through Facebook,
and so she sought me out. As a coach in a building, only rarely will the
Jennifers of the world seek us out – most of the time, we have to look for
opportunities to coach. We have to advertise our wares – through weekly
newsletters sharing proven teaching strategies, responding to emails to offer
specific support, or even drop-in “cold calls” visiting classrooms to listen for
teacher frustrations. We need to advertise our passions.
2. Let the student guide
you – When we met up in the parking lot, I still wasn't sure what Jennifer’s
previous biking experience consisted of or what sort of help she wanted from me.
But a few quick questions helped me know that it was mainly the shifting she
wanted explained. If I’d jumped in at a too basic or overly advanced level, I’d
have wasted time for both of us, and likely frustrated her as well. Don’t make
assumptions – ask questions.
3. Gradual release is
universal – No matter the activity, gradually releasing responsibility while
simultaneously increasing difficulty is always the best plan. In our case, we
started off on level ground in parking lots, then gradually meandered around the
college campus drive before eventually tackling a dirt road with loose patches
of gravel and mud puddles, and finally a rooty dirt path through the woods. Each
time we stepped up the difficulty I asked Jennifer if she was game, and she
always was – she even mastered the steep downhill with a hidden S-curve over a
narrow culvert at the bottom. By then she’d gotten the hang of her overall goal
for the outing – to master shifting and knowing when to use which gears. If we’d
started out the day on that downhill she could have gotten hurt, both in ego and
in body, and the prospect of her new bike would have seemed much less inviting.
Start slow, and always stay within the learner’s zone of proximal development.
4. Be aware of the curse
of knowledge – This idea comes from Chip and Dan Heath’s book “Made to
Stick” [link] and has to do with our tendency to forget just how hard it was to
learn something once we've mastered it ourselves. I found myself having to think
through processes and steps (down-shifting gears before an uphill, using both
brakes on a downhill) that I've done so often I’m unconscious of them . As a coach, it can be very easy to make assumptions about prior knowledge – I
sometimes think assumptions are the curse of coaching – and so we inadvertently
leave out crucial, basic information. In coaching, step back, empathize, and
empty yourself of what you know. Make yourself conscious of everything
involved.
5. Be a learner –
Donald Graves once said, “The teacher is the chief learner in the classroom.” As
a coach, I try to model constant learning, mainly because life is more fun that
way. On my ride with Jennifer I came away with a bit more knowledge about hybrid
bicycles and their surprising capabilities, but I learned much more through our
discussions about popular blogs, her possible
dissertation topic on social media as professional development, and the
surprising fact that she used to race cars! This she told me after the
S-curve culvert incident, which totally explains why she didn't crash.
In reality, coaching is simply one adult sharing ideas with
another and, ideally, vice versa. In the best coaching situations, both
participants get fed. People shouldn't leave the interaction feeling
demoralized, angry, or tempted to give up, but rather empowered - and perhaps a
little sore around the edges from stretching beyond their normal range of
motion.
