3/1/04
Chapter five in Principles of Language Learning and Teaching describes five separate Learning Styles. Most of them are presented as binary, although at least two of those are not actually opposites. A single person can be said to address all of the styles, in that sense, they are more characteristics of an individual than styles that can be applied to a task.

The first is Field Independence. The standard test for this measures a person’s ability to pull geometric shapes out of a chaotic background. This seems to be more a test of spatial intelligence than anything else, but we’ll let that go for the moment. Very generally, I look at Field Independence/Dependence as being the difference between a detail person (field independent) and a big picture person (field dependent). Unfortunately though, it’s not so pat. Field dependence is not really the opposite of field independence, and it can’t really be tested. That is to say, just because someone scores low on a test of field independence, doesn’t mean that they are field dependent (Brown: 116). FI people however, generally do well on technical things like drills and tests, and FD folks are alleged to do better with communicative tasks, although there appears to be little empirical data to support this, and indeed there would be given that there is no test to show FD.

What I found interesting about FI/D in regard to myself is that I behave like an FD (I’m positively influenced by teachers, I perform better with structure than without, I’m good with inductive reasoning), but I show characteristics of an FI when working with data: I’m good at finding patterns, organizing data, making generalizations, and learning rules. It seems as though the real difference here is affective versus analytical. I agree with the book in that probably most people have some of each, and each has a place in the classroom.

The next “Style” is Right versus Left Brain. This too is a tricky one. The right brain is typically associated with emotions, creativity, and visual and auditory processing, while the left is associated with analysis and logic. I’m a musician and somewhat of a visual artist, so heavy on the right brain, but I’m also a linguist. I can sit down and do sentence diagrams and suss out transformational grammar rules, analyze vowel shifts and stress patterns. This stuff seems pretty left brained to me (on the other hand I can’t do math to save my life. Don’t give me a fraction, just give me the whole thing and I’ll break off a hunk).

It seems that in terms of teaching, a best practice would be to be conscious of the hemispheric differences, and be sure to treat both sides of the brain in your teaching (or learning). This way, at the very least, the learning can be made more meaningful for everyone in that there are opportunities to hook it up to more places in the brain. And for those who are very dominant in one side or the other, they have a chance to learn rather than being left behind.

The third style addressed is Ambiguity Tolerance. Walt Whitman said, “I contradict myself? So I contradict myself. I am vast. I contain multitudes.” He was, as much of his writing would indicate, highly tolerant of ambiguity. Those who are tolerant of ambiguity, that is, those who can live with not really understanding something (at least for a little while) tend to be more flexible in their learning. They do fine with exceptions to rules, and other linguistic incongruities. However, too much tolerance can lead to just accepting everything without question. This is not learning and can’t really be meaningful.

On the other hand, those who are intolerant of even a little ambiguity tend to become closed minded, question everything, and misinterpret the Constitution (thanks Mr. President). Being able to perceive and think about ambiguity is great, it can aid in judgment. But the most important phrase I ever learned in any language is “Parce-que c-est comme ça.” That is: “Because that’s the way it is.” (loosely). My high school French teacher taught me that when I started asking too many questions about grammar. She wanted me to have faith. To trust that I would understand later, but that understanding now would not only be difficult, but would make other things difficult too. I had to learn to be tolerant of ambiguity in language learning. And I think I succeeded.

Next up is Reflectivity versus Impulsivity. Do you think about answers before you give them, or just give them and see what happens? One of the assumptions about these differences is that reflectives care about whether they are correct and impulsives don’t. I don’t really buy that. I think everybody wants to be correct, but impulsives are just that, impulsive. In my reading on this topic it hasn’t come up anywhere that someone actually asked impulsives how they feel about getting the right answer. This is either a failing in the books I’ve read or a failing in the studies that have generated them. There is also a bit of a problem with the method for testing this: They use a compare the shapes test. If you do it quickly you’re impulsive, and slowly you’re reflective. Again, they measure spatial acuity and relate it to the rest of a person’s life.

One study also used this test to measure efficiency versus inefficiency (accuracy over time) and said that this was a factor of reflectivity versus impulsivity. The problem here is that they assume that if someone is fast and accurate that they are impulsive (and not just right) and if they’re slow and inaccurate that they are reflective (and not just wrong). It didn’t seem that they asked the test takers how much they thought about their answers.

In any case, I’m more reflective than impulsive. I am however, on the “fast accurate” side of things in regard to objective test taking. The same study mentioned above says that “fast accurate” is impulsive, but also defines “fast accurates” as “good guessers.” It goes on in the same paragraph to say that “fast accurates” are better language learners than reflectives, impulsives, or (duh) slow inaccurates. This claim is based on, you guessed it, test scores! OK, so calling someone a good guesser and then saying that their test scores show that they’re good learners seems a little too tolerant of ambiguity. The author of the article is vast, she contains multitudes.

The last item on the list is Visual versus Auditory. This one is pretty easy to grasp: some people are better at learning from books and charts, others are better at learning from lectures. It should not be said that these things are mutually exclusive though. Both are very important to language learning. I would be hard pressed to say if either of these is dominant in me. I read a lot, but I listen to music all the time. I learn how to sound when speaking a foreign language by listening, not by looking at charts. I’m very good at picking out fine distinctions in sounds, but I need to read grammatical information to really commit it to memory.

So, five attributes to pay attention to in language learning and teaching. The big picture here is that understanding these things can help you as a teacher or a learner to appeal to them. In the end, addressing each of these things in moderation is probably the best general course of action. Give special attention where it is warranted, but try not to leave anything out. The only really stupid people are those that don’t want to learn. Nobody else should get left behind.