Fear and Learning

Fear shapes learning. It shapes what and how much students learn. It also puts constraints on teachers by limiting what and how they teach. Too many actions or failure to act in schools are fear based.

As part of my summer reading, I am working my way thru Kristen Ulmer’s The Art of Fear.  The goal of this book is to talk openly about fear and create a healthier relationship with fear.  On a personal level I have had to confront the idea that I may not have a healthy relationship with fear. At the very least, I am afraid of many things in my life beyond the usual sharks, heights, and clowns. The book really struck me as an educator. On a professional level it dawned on me how fear has such a prominent role in schools and learning. Yes, we have to confront the unfortunate decrease in physical safety in schools - shootings, bullying, and other forms of physical or emotional violence. However, fear has seeped into schools in other ways that impacted student engagement and learning.

It seems that anxiety and loneliness amongst young adults have risen substantially in recent years. Is it such a stretch to connect this rise to how youth and their parents have addressed fear? For students, fear diminishes the resources and attention that can be devoted to learning. Fear acts like an app on your phone that constantly drains the battery. If you’re afraid in class you probably are not focusing in class. These fears are varied and substantial, yet few educators discuss fear in school let alone how it impacts learning or how to engage fear in a healthy manner.

For teachers fear operates in a similar manner. Yes, some teachers fear for physical violence at school. However, fear impacts teachers and teaching in a more subtle way everyday. No one likes to look stupid. Teachers are no different. Actually, I think that many teachers fear looking stupid, making a mistake, or losing/not having control most of all. These fears limit a teacher’s willingness to change, adapt, or expand the scope of their educational practice. When difficult issues or problems arise for teachers, how much of their internal dialogue includes “What if I say something embarrassing? What if I do something stupid? Can I really pull that off?”  Principals always tell teachers to try new things and take risks, but have they really considered how much of a professional risk that is for different individuals.

Much of this fear is wrapped up in the traditional role of and how many people view teachers. Too often teachers are viewed as the all knowing expert who dispenses knowledge and rules.  This perspective is detrimental for students and teachers. This perspectives boxes teachers into a corner. Once in the corner an individual feels safe and can see ‘dangerous’ situations approaching. Fear glues us into our corners. Leaving the corner represents uncertainty and risk. If you are the all knowing expert can you risk it? That’s why many teacher fear trying something new. NOTE:  I will address the fear of overly litigious parents and lawsuit shy districts elsewhere.

This notion of fear impacting learning smacked me upside the head recently. Seemingly obvious, I wondered why I hadn’t put these pieces together sooner. My M.Ed. work looked at how students perceive academic and social risk in the classroom. Connecting risk to fear should have been a no brainer. I’m embarrassed to admit that it took me almost 20 years to connect the two.

Let me tell a brief story that I think does a good job describing how students and teachers experience fear. Way back in the day I had a client on a high ropes course element called the Catwalk. The goal of the Catwalk is to climb up one telephone pole to a wooden bridge 30 feet in the air.  Once on the bridge (also a telephone pole) you were to try to walk 35 feet across to the other side.This youth climbed up to the bridge but could not let go of the security of the first pole. They hugged the pole. Gradually they inched out on the bridge keeping one hand clasped to a metal anchor on the pole. Eventually their arm straightened and their grasp loosened, but they retreated back to the pole. The process repeated itself over and over until we ran out of time for our 60 minute session.  This went on for a few weeks. They wanted to let go. They wanted to make the walk. Yet when it came time to let go, they retreated. Fear held them tightly. For the record, after several weeks this youth crawled across the bridge. Gradually over the course of a few more weeks they would eventually stand, walk, and then moon walk across the bridge.

In climbing among the dumbest thing people say (parents listen up, I mean you) is, “Don’t worry. There’s nothing to be scared of…” Uh, yes there is.  Too often this same message is transmitted in various ways to students and teachers. Yet, we all know there are many fears present. Thus, the repression of fear slowly erodes what is possible for individuals in school. If more people talked openly about risk and fear in school... could we decrease the levels of anxiety in youth… would people enjoy learning more… would students learn more...would teachers and teaching improve?  I have no idea, but we should not be afraid of trying.