7 'bad language' habits in learning

My first beef is the word 'learner'. Imagine walking into a room and calling the people in the office, library or cafe - 'learners'. They're not learners, they're people. But there's lots more...
1. Language of learning as work and punishment
“Have you finished your work? Have you done your homework? Get down to work. Stop working now. Show your working. This is how you work it out. I’ve finished my work, Miss.”

Research by Guy Claxton has shown that teachers unwittingly use the inappropriate language of industrial labour, for learning. This turns learning into a series of chores or tasks to be completed. It’s the language of closure, not learning. Completion, not competence, becomes the goal. Learning is further presented as a series of tasks that sound like punishments. To lecture someone in the real world is to patronize and talk down to them. To teach someone a lesson is to punish them.

2. Language of behaviourism
The lecturer, trainer, instructor are all rooted in deeply behaviourist models of didactic instruction. Is there anything more inappropriate than the job title Lecturer? We know that the 1 hour lecture is a hopeless method of learning. We also know that many lecturers are actually researchers, who are sometimes unskilled even unenthusiastic about teaching. There are few professions where the basic skills (teaching) are so loosely acquired, taught or evaluated. And in the training world, you train horses don’t you?

3. Language of time and place
Taking a class is another giveaway, suggesting that learning is synonymous with sitting in a room and being talked at. We have autumn, winter, spring and summer terms {prison-terms?), something you have to get through. Schools have other echoes of prison – gates, uniforms, corridors, incarceration interrupted by short exercise periods and detention.

4. Language of profession
And lastly, we have odious, professional jargon; the words learning styles, kinaesthetic, pedagogy, metacognition, learning objectives, competences and so on. There is no need to expose people to this nonsense. Ordinary language is just fine.

5. Language of opposites
A sort of apartheid exists in British education, between academic and vocational, between knowledge and skills. We foolishly want to mirror this in A-levels versus Apprenticeships. Much of this is simply linguistic. The boundaries, in real life, are massively blurred. We’d do well to stop using these artificially opposed and falsely exclusive words.

6. Language of assessment
Language of assessment is the language of fear and failure. We sit exams and tests. We pass or fail. It’s a red pen culture, where failure is failure, not an opportunity to try again, overcome and succeed. It’s the finality of failure – no second chances that make it all so depressing.

7. Language of accreditation
If the language of assessment isn’t bad enough, the English accreditation system has produced bewildering layers of confusing language and brands. As a student and parent the world of GCSEs and A-levels will quickly unravel into: Foundation and Higher levels, KS1, KS2, KS3, KS4, Levels 1-8. Then there’s the crazy fact that each subject has several awarding bodies, each with their own variants on the curriculum – AQA A, AQA B, Edexcel A, Edexcel B, OCR, NICCEA, WJEC. Then there are BTECs and dozens of other vocational acronyms. I’d be surprised if it’s any different in other countries.

Promote language of learning, not teaching
At West Kidlington school they’ve tried to shift the language of learning towards positive values. They have 22 words; trust, respect, quality, responsibility, unity, peace, thoughtfulness, happiness, patience, care, appreciation, honesty, understanding, love, friendship, humility, hope, simplicity, tolerance, courage, cooperation and freedom.

I like this but feel that this language is a bit abstract. It’s the everyday language of a school that determines its culture. It’s the language of encouragement, not censure and closure; let’s try, how come, how could. There’s Kipling’s ‘who, what, where, why, when and how’, pushing students to probe, explore and push beyond the task.

We need to simply stop defining learning as work, homework, lessons, classes, lectures and redefine these as aspirational activities; sessions, challenges, projects and clubs. Then there’s the avoidance of terms of incarceration. A school is not a prison, the school gate is not the prison door, and attainment, not attendance, is the aim. As for teachers, lecturers, instructors and trainers, surely tutors, coaches and mentors would be better. The branding of qualifications simply needs to adhere to Occam’s razor – the smallest number of entities to reach a give goal. Keep it simple stupid. Much of the language of learning is actually the language of teaching. In business the language of sales is the language of the customer, not the vendor. We need the language of batting, not bowling.

The language of the web is, I think, a good place to look for trends. It is the language of inclusion – myspace, facebook, youtube and so on. We could also learn from the language of games - challenge, game, play, player – to motivate students.