Sunday, February 24, 2008

Golf Ain't A Sport, And Neither Is Turkey Farming

I stumbled upon a good catalyst, if you will, for class discussion regarding critical thinking. This past Thursday I was attempting to engage my class in a discussion on that particular topic by asking them what they thought constituted critical thinking, in the first place, and when they have been called upon to practice it. Unfortunately, and as usual, they were not forthcoming in offering any opinions and/or ideas on the matter, which left me looking out on a bank of faces so devoid of interest--intellectual, practical, or otherwise--that I was half-tempted to line them up and, one by one, show 'em both sides of my hand, in a manner of speaking. Instead, I asked how many of them were sports enthusiasts, either as participants, fans, or both. Naturally, most of them showed some sign of assent, even if they maintained their vigilant reticence. Venturing further, I asked if any of them were baseball fans, in particular. Again, many of them gave some indication that they were. "Good," I said. "How would you feel, then, if I told you that baseball isn't a sport, it's a game?" A small thing, really, but I shit you not, the room erupted in a cacophony of dissenting voices.

This may sound silly to some of you; I don't know and I really don't care if it does. But I was simply excited that I had finally said something to elicit impassioned responses from most of my students. From that point forward, I basically played devil's advocate by hammering their every emotional objection and logical argument against my declaration. This led to questions like, "Well, what about Nascar? Do you consider that a sport?" No, I don't consider it a sport because it's not one. "But it takes a lot of physical and mental endurance to drive those cars and those guys are drained when it's over." So? My old man was an over-the-road truck driver, driving sometimes halfway across the United States in a single run, at the end of which he had to unload his own truck. Needless to say, it took a great deal of physical and mental endurance, and he was surely wiped out at the end of his working day, but he was also drinking coffee and chain smoking the whole time. Would you consider truck driving a sport? "What about golf? Walking 18 holes carrying a golf bag is hard." Yeah, well, turkey farming is more physically demanding than that, and probably more exciting to watch than golf is, but you probably wouldn't consider that a sport, would you? "Of course not, that's stupid." I exacerbated the issue by conceding that, in my opinion, competitive ballroom dancing is a sport, as well as competitive cheerleading. And so on.

The trick to all of this, of course, is that eventually you have to come full circle by demonstrating how this constitutes critical thinking. For instance, there was one girl who got (I thought) unreasonably heated about my contention that baseball is a game, not a sport. So I challenged her to consider why she was so upset, especially since I had never once intimated that being a "game" was in any way a discredit to baseball. In fact, I had up to that point lauded baseball for its complexities in spite of having already stated that I find it boring as hell to watch and don't otherwise like it. I asked her why she was so married to this term "sport," and to ask herself whether or not one term or the other in any way affected her appreciation of the game. Moreover, I challenged the class to identify any assumptions they might have about those two terms and to consider, specifically, what differences exist between them. For instance, are all sports also games, and/or vice versa? Or is sport simply a sub-category of games and, if so, what criteria must be present to qualify as such? Blah blah blah, you get what I'm getting at. Mostly I just wanted to put this out there as an idea you might resort to in a moment of desperation for class feedback, and from which you can derive a pretty substantial lesson on critical thinking.

3 comments:

Knife the Cat said...

I agree that antagonizing students (albeit in a fair, friendly way) works miracles as far as motivation and sparking interest is concerned. Even something simple like you used works wonders as far as engagement goes.
I still believe a lot of students fresh out of high school have been able to succeed by never being the squeaky wheel, so to speak. They're used to being able to go through class doing absolutely nothing save breathing through their gaping mouths- and like Burling intimated the other day, the students have probably have been rewarded for being so wordlessly compliant. Sounds like you struck the perfect balance with your baseball exercise. I think the hardest thing is getting students to question their own assumptions.
I believe, though, that anything you can chew tobacco while doing is a sport.

Knife the Cat said...

I agree that antagonizing students (albeit in a fair, friendly way) works miracles as far as motivation and sparking interest is concerned. Even something simple like you used works wonders as far as engagement goes.
I still believe a lot of students fresh out of high school have been able to succeed by never being the squeaky wheel, so to speak. They're used to being able to go through class doing absolutely nothing save breathing through their gaping mouths- and like Burling intimated the other day, the students have probably have been rewarded for being so wordlessly compliant. Sounds like you struck the perfect balance with your baseball exercise. I think the hardest thing is getting students to question their own assumptions.
I believe, though, that anything you can chew tobacco while doing is a sport.

Steve Rucker said...

That's a great exercise. It would definately get me going (Brunson, you shut your mouth). That's exactly what I've been aiming at recently. I've been tryig to find ways to antagonize my students because I don't know if they really know what it means to think critically about anything. Most of them make statements and then try to stand on those. So, I do what you have done: I find something that I know will get them riled up, and I poke and prod at them until they get excited. Then I explain to them that what they just did was engage in critical thinking and analysis. The looks on their little faces...I tell you. It's precious. Like a kitten drinking from a bowl of milk. Precious.