Discovering and Facilitating Deep Learning States

Professor Al McLeod
Department of Sociology
Cal State University, Fresno

As students and teachers we treasure moments when the learning exchange seems to go deeper than normal, when a certain aliveness and engagement fall upon us, capturing our minds and hearts. I've chosen to conceptualize such moments as deep learning states (DLS), noting that such states can be life altering and long remembered, and the deeper the state the more this is true. It may seem that such experiences are fortuitous and out of our control; however, if we can identify the characteristics of deep learning states and follow the trail that tempts us into such moments, we can increase both the frequency and depth of these states.

As I listen to accounts of my students and colleagues, and recall my own classroom experiences, DLS seem rare. Remembrances of classroom learning are often talked about in a joking way, as if they were a necessary but silly part of life. "I think we used a red text book in that class. . . ?" we may say to a friend when recalling past classes. This tragic-comic line is a metaphor for too many classroom experiences. When we listen more attentively to these stories, we sometimes notice a kind of wistfulness that reflects our knowing that things could have been better, that we could have eternity" rather than mere memorization for an exam.

It is not that college education does not stay with us or change us, for there is ample research showing that it does; my position is simply that if we can have more deep learning, education—at all levels—can be more permanent, can in fact be transformative so that we not only retain content, but our interests, passions, values and character are altered in a way to make us better citizens, consumers, voters, spouses, lovers, parents—in short more responsible caretakers in all spheres of life.

Deep Learning States: A Working Definition

The model of DLS that follows is based on my experience during 30 years of college teaching using systematic feedback from approximately 9,000 students. This experience includes my own observations, intuitions, and speculations, copious written and oral feedback from students, and discussions with colleagues. My model reflects my training in both sociology and psychology, and my training as a therapist. Because of my clinical

This paper is directed at teachers, thus I do not include DLS that occur in solitude, or with one or two other individuals, or in groups such as families or religious settings—as some of our most significant ones surely do. Additionally, I am excluding traumatic DLS, where we are the victims of someone else, and may learn something vital but at great expense. Such experiences happen to all of us—surprisingly often in classrooms—and traumatic DLS over longer time frames can be transformed into positive DLS if they are integrated into the personality. Traumatic DLS are not the kind of experiences we consciously want to create yet they are part of the culture of many classrooms, unconsciously flourishing without being noticed. There is a large clinical literature on traumatic learning, and some of the most helpful perspectives are offered by clinicians such as Miller and Terr.(1)

I define DLS as any positive classroom learning experience where the learner believes she or he has moved beyond normal learning states into a significant, meaningful and lasting shift in cognitions, values, attitudes, and emotions accompanied by feelings of well-being. As a result of such experiences there can be a change in immediate and future behaviors experienced by both the learner and observers.

From this perspective it is the learner who determines what is a positive DLS, based on his or her experiential reality. It seems generally true, however, that when positive DLS happen in our classrooms, most of us can see it in each other's faces, hear it in our voices, "feel it in the room," thus, there is a high level of interpersonal congruence. DLS can happen to any learner in any setting at any time—even in classrooms where we least expect it. Having said that, it is also true that some classroom cultures routinely support DLS, and it is important to try and isolate the features of such classes. Based on my experience the following factors will increase the possibilities of DLS.

DLS: Brain Chemicals, Hormones and Electricity

It is interesting to ask what inner pictures we form when we ponder the operations of our own brain, our processing of information and ideas. When I've asked my students how we absorb and remember informa tion, the most common image is that memories are "data" floating around in the space inside our heads. Viewed this way information, memories and ideas have unstable physical properties. The research on brain chemistry suggests something quite different.

What we now know is that each incoming idea or bit of information is transduced and encoded in the cells of our brain, through a complex interaction of chemicals, hormones and electrical activity. Penfield's discovery that electrical stimulation of the brain during surgery triggered vivid memories as far back as childhood, suggests that literally every experience is stored in our neurotransmitters.

I take a speculative and intuitive leap when I suggest that a model for DLS is that the right brain provides the context for DLS by bathing the newer left brain in a complex chemical/hormonal/electrical soup, allowing for greater-than-normal openness to new information. Significant emotional states appear to squeeze the brain into releasing an array of chemicals and hormones, resulting in an increased readiness, alertness and aliveness.(2)

Emotions experienced as positive result in a release of endorphins, while negative emotions release catacholamines. Emotionally charged experiences thus seem to open the neurotransmitters. The release of chemicals and hormones is always happening to some degree and DLS may be a result of a change in the quantity and quality of these. It is entirely likely that the electrical properties of the brain change more rapidly than do hormones and chemicals, although even the latter can fluctuate within a few seconds.

As a teacher I notice I'm more sensitive, mindful and in awe of the privilege of teaching when I remember that each idea launched into space between the student and myself is creating a chemical/hormonal/electrical soup, that each utterance is imprinted in the listener's brain. We are, as teachers, not just purveyors of airy ideas but cooks, chemists and electricians in our own right, and the sounds we make can change the world.

DLS Are Holistic and Involve Several Types of Intelligence

Many classrooms from early grades through college are preoccupied with a small part of our total intelligence, namely the left-brain/ rational-logical part that is most directly connected to "I.Q."—math/verbal abilities and test taking. Goleman concludes that this limited intelligence at best accounts for no more than 20% of life success.(3) To the extent that learning is restricted to this limited range of intelligence, learning is fragmented and DLS are less likely. This helps us understand why classroom learning can be boring, flat, depressing, harmful and easily—even eagerly—forgotten after a test. (Students, in both oral and written comments, routinely talk about "vomiting" out information on exams, then going out for cathartic beers so they can reclaim a normal state of consciousness.) The fact that as professors we do not confront this reality and do something to change it, is perhaps an example of how we've forgotten our own student experience—in short, an example of superficial learning on our parts.

DLS seem typically connected to several types of intelligence at once, and actively involve the logic/rationality of the left brain along with right brain affective/emotional states. DLS may also be accompanied by unique and interesting body/kinesthetic experiences. Gardner identifies seven types of intelligence, including the two that are matters of high dogma in most classrooms—math and verbal skills—but also kinesthetic, spatial, musical, interpersonal and intrapersonal. He goes on to note that these seven can be further broken down to create a list of 21 or more.(4)

A possible example of holistic/integral learning is Gary Kasparov's recent chess victory over "Deep Blue"—a computer capable of over 200 million calculations per second. Even though Deep Blue had something we might call impeccable and powerful logic—called "brute force" by some observers—after the first game (Blue's only win) Kasparov could "sense" a style in its operations, so that over the next five games he was able to maneuver into win and draw situations. (Kasparov won three, lost one, drew two.) It seems accurate to say that Kasparov was able to anticipate strategies and moves ahead of time, and that this precognitive ability may be a function of multiple intelligence not yet understood.

To recapitulate, DLS seem more likely when both the left and right brains are engaged, so that logical/rational cognitions are accompanied by a range of emotions and intuitions. DLS are often accompanied by a range of feelings including joy, excitement, sadness, peacefulness, focused calmness and the like. The intensity of emotions may be accompanied by powerful kinesthetic/body states with animated movements. (I think of Archimedes running through the streets, yelling "Eureka, Eureka!" or Einstein pacing about, munching on house plants.) Perhaps a child at play offers the best model of multiple intelligence, and thus helps explain the exponential learning curve in the first years of life.

DLS and Social Stimuli: Group Leaders As Prime Stimuli

DLS can be triggered by any stimuli—books, movies, solitary nature experiences, dreams and so forth. Perhaps the most common triggers of DLS are interactions with other people. We are social animals, and much of what we learn comes from watching, imitating or reacting to other humans, real and fictional.

Of all social stimuli, the leader of any group is perhaps the most important, for group members focus intensely on the leader/teacher, looking for cues as to how to act, think and feel. This super attentiveness to the teacher/leader seems to be grounded in early childhood survival mechanisms, when we had to be critically aware of correctly reading adults who held our life in their hands. As adults, our rapt watchfulness of leaders may be more consciously based on our need to think, feel and act normally so that we can fit in, reaping the considerable benefits of conformity.

It is not difficult for us to remember what it was like when we were students and the teacher walked in. We went on full alert, our inner voices asking dozens of questions—some only on the edge of consciousness: Who is this person? Can I trust them? Are they safe? Will they embarrass me if I ask a question? Do they care about us, me? How much do they care? Do they speak the truth? Do they have some truth for me? For students the questions are legion: as we watch ever so carefully, we come to conclusions and orchestrate our thoughts, feelings and actions around that great director, the teacher. Whether we conform, are neutral or rebellious depends on our reactions to the teacher, all filtered through our personal history and our patterns of processing information.

Positive DLS are promoted when students answer the above questions affirmatively. If the perception is that this teacher is essentially trustworthy, kind, caring, compassionate and humorous, possesses relevant information and communicates this in an understandable way, the complex chemistry of the brain can switch out of a fear/survival mode and higher learning can occur. A brain that feels safe is an open brain—not just as metaphor but in terms of biochemistry. When neurotransmitters are open, information flow is more efficient and can go deeper.

Conversely, the brain that feels unsafe, that registers basic survival mechanisms of fight/flight through the release of adrenaline and catacholamines, may be too preoccupied to absorb much higher level learning. Teacher/leader behaviors that shame, blame, humiliate, and ignore students work against DLS. Relevant clinical literature of the past 15 years concludes that shaming and blaming behaviors are predictably routine in our families, schools, and workplaces. This observation helps clarify why our schools often have a passing impact on student thinking, values and character structure.

Each unit of behavior—each phrase or word, tone of voice, eye contact—especially on the part of the teacher, is potentially classifiable as having either positive or negative consequences for interpersonal learning exchange and information flow. Given that observable actions originate in chemical/electrical impulses in our brain, inner processes such as intentions, attitudes and expectations—especially on the part of leaders and teachers—become important foci for investigation. It is quite likely that even small intentions get communicated through micro-movements in facial muscles and the body generally.(5) Our intuitive sensitivity to each other's behaviors and intentions is sometimes uncanny. Robert Jahn's research at Princeton University indicates that one way or another brain images get communicated.(6)

The implications of the foregoing for DLS are profound, for I'm suggesting that the most important variable in interpersonal information flow is not content but the intentions, attitudes, values and

DLS and Peer Bonding

While the intrapersonal and interpersonal emotional intelligence of the teacher may be the primary social stimulus in a classroom, peer relationships are perhaps next in line of importance. When students get to know each other's names and faces and something of their histories and personalities, they feel safe, trusted, cared for, and biochemical brain changes facilitating DLS are promoted. A safe mind is an open mind. We ambivalently joke about "bonding," yet it's an elemental social need. We can harness this and put it to work in the service of the content. My best classes are those where the group soil is most prepared, where elemental social needs are met and honored. In such a place learning flowers with unexpected profusion, and content has deeper roots. Content issues are served by allowing emotional intelligence to flourish.

Over the past few years three questions have emerged as pivotal in my measuring how well my classes are doing: l) Do students look forward to coming to class? 2) Do they feel better when they leave? 3) Are individuals not enrolled in class—roommates, family members, friends—learning something from those who are? When most students respond affirmatively to these questions, I've come to believe that the class is both intellectually and emotionally rich. When students are fulfilled in terms of both content and social needs, they will naturally value their time together and want to share with others outside of class. In such a context I believe I am teaching more by teaching less, and my students also appear to know this.

Anything that supports emotional intelligence and provides for the filling of elemental social needs through caring and committed connections to others, can promote DLS and is thus a wise group investment. Having students sit in a circle is important, for it promotes two fundamental aspects of relationship—face and eye contact. The use of name tags seems basic, too. In smaller classes I find it is better to discard the name tags and take time orget to do these things students will often instigate them on their own. There is something about us that wants to be known, to be seen, to be called by name.

Elemental social needs can also be nurtured through the use of small group discussions and sharing in dyads. I also use silent reflection and writing at various times in class. Additionally, I use imagery and music to help deepen and sharpen the focus of the content at hand. Encouraging students to share their own wisdom, experience and expertise with the class—as it connects to content themes—seems especially powerful. Having students fill out a sheet listing areas of expertise can expedite this process. I often assign exercises early in the semester that focus on active and deep listening, and have come to believe that such listening is a potent ingredient of emotional intelligence.

DLS and Cognitive Dissonance

DLS often involve the confrontation of old cognitions/attitudes/values with those of new ones. In fact, this may be the basis of all learning: a favorite idea, belief or opinion, espoused for a long time, suddenly meets something different, and cognitive structures crumble and reform. At its root this is a death and rebirth experience, and usually generates anxiety, fear and resistance. If the new idea keeps calling to us and we allow the older one to change, after the dissonance, we may feel the energy of rebirth and new discovery. This helps account for the heated argumentation and excitement of some DLS.

We understand this process at an intuitive level, but may not be clear about it or fully aware of it. My experience as a teacher is that the more I can support my students in becoming aware of this cognitive process in themselves—and the more I can notice it in myself—the more we can consciously enter into the process and facilitate it. Noticing how we learn is an important part of supporting the learning process. When we begin to see how we hold on to old ideas, how we resist the new, the nature of arguments we use in this process, the kinds of defenses we create, etc., we can deepen and expedite our own education/evolution.

Evaluations: Tests/Assignments and DLS

In view of the above, any type of test or assignment, written or oral, that invites learners to invest themselves in a personal way, to agree and disagree with text and lectures, to react critically and evaluate, anything that helps them notice their own reactions and learning processes, can help expedite DLS. I stopped using tests and exams ten years ago, developing a system that requires students to react critically with one written page for each text chapter and class session. Even though there is a lot of writing, 90% of students say they prefer this method because they learn more and believe they'll retain it longer than they would with tests. Students seem quite conscious of their cognitive processes, and are clear that with tests they do a lot of memorization shortly before, regurgitate it for the exam and quickly forget it. Research shows that during exam periods many students literally become sick due to stress and resultant biochemical changes that lead to compromised immunological responses. This is not redundant information; we ignore their stories at our peril. This is their reported experience, their description of real internal events. Do we want our students to be sick? Do we really want to create negative DLS? I believe we need to create more test- free classes in the interest of DLS.

Conclusions

Based on the systematic feedback of approximately 9,000 students during my career as a college professor, I've noted some of the core factors that promote deep learning. Other factors could be cited, but these seem basic. Perhaps the central idea above is that any factor that promotes the fight/flight reaction—and related feelings of stress, unfair and unfriendly competition, or anxiety—inhibits positive DLS through the production of stress hormones as mediated in the hypothalamic-pituitary axis. Conversely, any social action that promotes safety, security, caring and similar affective states, facilitates positive DLS through the release of positive hormones.

It is helpful to me when I remind myself that each classroom milieu, and every piece of interaction that occurs therein—words, eye-contact, facial and body language—is transduced and encoded through brain chemistry/electricity. When I remember this it leads me to be more careful and responsible towards my students, and I am reminded that the words we share are a form of social communion, not merely as a romantic idea but with real grounding in the mysterious chemical complexity of our brains, and with decided impact on our everyday lives.

Endnotes: (1) Miller, Alice. For Your Own Good. New York: Farrar, Straus, Giroux, 1983.
Terr, Lenore. Too Scared To Cry. New York: Harper & Row, 1990.
(2) Rossi, Ernest L. The Psychobiology of Mind-Body Healing. New York: W.W. Norton & Co., Inc., 1986.
(3) Goleman, Daniel. Emotional Intelligence. New York: Bantam Books, 1995.
(4) Gardner, Howard. Frames of Mind: The Theory of Multiple Intelligences. New York: Basic Books, 1983.
(5) Marcher, Lisbeth. Unpublished manuscript. Marcher is the founder of the Bodynamic Institute in Denmark.
(6) Jahn, Robert G. and Dunne, Brenda J. Margins of Reality. Orlando, Fl.: Harcourt Brace , 1987.

Contact:
Professor Al McLeod
Department of Sociology
California State University-Fresno
Fresno, CA 93740

E-mail: al_mcleod@csufresno.edu
Telephone: (209) 278-5145
Fax: (209) 278-4598