Goal orientation theory, practitioners, and my current pedagogical approach

As a dance teacher, I teach pre and professional dancers. This being the case, most of the students I work with have a foundation of training that includes knowledge of ballet forms, coordination, musicality, etc. With class, as a teacher I aim to answer the following (perceived) dancer needs:

• Technique maintenance
• deepen, expand, develop technique
• heighten awareness of capacity (what is strong vs. areas which need more attention)
• A workout
• A preparation for rehearsal, or movement work that follows later in the day

So, this is pretty straight-forward. What complicates (I think) my approach is that not all dancers are going to dance class to get this work done these days. With so much science, so much cross-disciplinary dialogue, there are many ways a dancer can answer the above needs without stepping into a class.

So then my question as a teacher shifted to: what is motivating dancers to go to dance class?

With this in mind when I began my inquiry, I uncovered an academic theory of motivation and learning: Goal orientation theory defines two common orientations in learning settings: mastery, to gain skills and understanding to achieve a task; and performance, to demonstrate and maintain competence in relationship to others (Schunk et al. 2014 p.187)

I decided that if I was going to make headway as a teacher, I might consider a more mastery type approach to teaching, as it seems to have the greatest to potential to cultivate long term relationships and learning with pre and professional dancers.

Mastery is learning motivated by the goal to achieve a task. It is intrinsic, self- referenced, and effort is given value in relation to achievement. Outcomes and attributions include adaptive behavior, accepting challenges, and longevity of interest in learning. (Schunk et al. 2014 p.187)

And this is important to me. I am not so interested in being a teacher who teaches what is popular. This, I know, I cannot sustain. I want to learn and know and work with people over time.

Practically, I am attempting to engage students in long term learning by:

• Making myself and the material accessible regularly; I offer a weekly class, initiated and organized by me.

• Comprising my class of material that allows for much expression and exploration of the participant’s ability, and individual style or approach, and creativity. In this way I hope that the material is relevant to the participant, because it can be so personal. The personal connection increases potential for meaningfulness of the content, and motivation to keep investing in class participation. Keep them coming back to class! There returning participation makes possible the long-term commitment that is expressed in goal orientation theory as mastery: ongoing learning not linked to any particular outcome.

• Offering content that is also meaningful to me: acknowledging my own experience (in dance) and interests through my pedagogy is something I aim to do.

Susan W. Stinson (2010) expresses the importance of teaching ‘beyond the body’: the role of teachers in dance extends beyond offering steps to be reproduced. Teachers must invest in teaching transferable skills centered on the individual. Concentration, focus, self-discipline, effort, autonomy, presence, problem-solving, making connections, collaboration, are all expressed as being important parts of dance pedagogy. (Stinson 2010 p.142)


What does my current class look like?

I begin with a fixed form or exercise. This is something that can recur from week to week. It is either what I refer to as a ‘still practice’, or is a modified excerpt of a Tai Chi warm up. It lasts about a half an hour. I choose these to help centre the individual. It is not a meditation, but rather a moment of micro work, awareness, and observation. A collection of quiet data that will inform what comes next.

For the next hour or so we work in partners. I facilitate task-initiated games. The games are centered on coordination, intensity of physical and mental engagement. The participant has the ability to make choices (intuitive, deliberate) in the game.

Tasks have focuses: working the eyes, the hands, the real weight of the body, etc. (Elements I have identified as being integral to coordination).

The spirit of the work is to encounter one’s capacity, while simultaneously supporting a similar encounter for one’s partner. It is about discovery, and creating potential to learn. It is not about achievement of a set goal. The idea is reinforced that there is always more to learn, to listen to, and to work, no matter what one’s capacity is.

We end with a casual discussion. Here we share out experience, ask questions. We create an opportunity to name our experience, and reinforce our learning so that we can bring it forward to whatever we do next.
That’s it!

If I am teaching at an institution, I do the above, and offer a contemporary technique inspired phrase pre-discussion. The phrase work, with it’s more recognizable forms, still has at it’s core an emphasis of coordination, and listening (awareness).


Through my MAPP inquiry I am looking to other teachers and practitioners, some of whom I have studied with and some I have not, to inspire and inform an expansion and refinement of my current pedagogical approach. I hope to conduct my research, consider the values of these practitioners, how they motivate learning, and then find my own way to manifest what I find interesting and effective in their approaches. (Maybe I am looking at combining a bunch of elements from different techniques / approaches, into my own. I think my encounters will also encourage me to reflect on my own approach. I think a more visible image of my own approach may emerge in this process of studying practitioners, considering goal orientation theory, and learning motivations.)

Simply: Drawing on the knowledge and experience of other practitioners. Creating a scenario where I can learn about them, and from them. And then, through my self-organized class platform, explore ways to integrate the compelling ideas that I learned in the course of the inquiry, and to continue to clarify what it is that I offer as a dance teacher.

As I begin Module Three

Below are my responses to feedback from Module Two.  I thought answering them directly in the form of a blog would help me generate answers.  Here, I am attempting to make more clear the what / how / why / etc. of my teaching.  Please feel free to comment and / or ask questions!

....

It is not as clear how the inquiry links to your current professional practice. You do not mention 

how:
I teach mostly by making connections with dance organizations and institutions (professional, pre-professional) in Montreal where I live, as well as in Canada.  Teaching contracts acquired from these connections last one to four weeks, and are not automatically renewed the following year.  Generally speaking, the market is competitive for longer duration and renewable teaching contracts.  

or what: 
These days I am very focused on building participant awareness and ability using principles of sustainable movement in my classes.  I believe the principles of sustainable movement are: coordination, power, mobility, adaptability, listening, collaboration, and intelligence.  This belief is informed by the training that I have done with Peter Boneham (Canada), and Linda Kapetanea and Jozef Frucek (Greece / Slovakia).  My assumption as a teacher is that this principle-focused class work can be applied to any movement arena, whether aesthetic, performance, or competitive.  In my contemporary technique class individuals learn about and integrate principles simultaneously, while learning about themselves (how they work, strengths, weaknesses, etc.)  The fact that the learning I facilitate has many applications answers my question of what is relevant and pertinent content for a contemporary dance or movement class for professionals and pre-professionals.

or where: 
At professional drop-in classes organized by a host organization, at pre-professional institutions, or independently organized drop-in style classes organized by me.

or why you teach: 
Why certain approaches to dance and movement resonate more or less for participants is something I find fascinating.  I have a big curiosity for why individuals find one form of training more relevant than the other, more pertinent than the other.  

There is little explanation for how all the movement practices you are going to look at fit into your own teaching practice. 
This I cannot entirely answer at this time.  Some of the practices I am studying via my MAPP inquiry I personally have experience with, as a teacher and as a participant.  Some of the movement practices I have no experience with.  At the core of it all is my curiosity for how and what other teachers are teaching in contemporary dance.  The possibilities really are so varied.  I hope to use the inquiry to broaden my knowledge of approaches, to deepen those that I know, and to examine and refine my own approach to teaching in doing so.

Assumptions: thoughts from the October 2nd skype chat

Glad to have - after a year - finally participated in an afternoon skype session.  I had previously been on lunch hour sessions, which, for me in Eastern Canada, meant attempting coherent conversation contributions at 6am.
...

Reflecting on the topics that emerged during the discussion, in particular with respect to our assumptions and the impact that they have on our research (and perhaps, our perspective in general), I am reminded of the importance of allowing for things to not go as planned.  If research, and this learning we undertake through the process of MAPP, is really that, it seems pertinent to take note (for myself) that research isn't a series of selections to arrive at a desired result, but a series of (un)educated guesses that really bring us to the next question.  Thinking back to Kolb's learning theory (1974),  the 'test' phase includes a margin for error, and for results we don't anticipate.  It becomes a great platform for re-approaching, beginning again with a refined or new question, to continue our cycle of learning.  Nothing detrimental: just more bridges for more learning.

For my inquiry I am looking at how instructors are dealing with motivating learning: how, to what ends, etc.  As n inquiry, it edges on supposing that 'a way' of teaching (expressing, connecting, sharing) has an impact on how content is received, and is therefore something of value, worth considering.

Today I spoke with a subject who has agreed to participate in my research and she mentioned her excitement at the thought of my thesis: she expressed giving value to the importance of how information gets transmitted by an instructor.  This is great, there is, however, a part of me that is equally curious about how an instructor, with far less attention to transmission, delivers a class.  How does it work?  (How instructors teach is just one part of it..... as Sam K. mentioned, students bring whole histories with them into the studio that are impacting possible connections with class content.)

At the heart of my inquiry: how do I teach?  How do I work?  So, even though I have directed this question outward by means of my inquiry, I believe, in the end, the question is really for myself.  I wonder if, as I pursue my inquiry, if more of myself will be revealed, as I will approach and clarify my own answers to these questions, as they pertain to me and my teaching.

These days I am fascinated by presenting learning situations for participants where:

• I optimize my observation time of participant work and engagement with material
• Participants capitalize on what they already know, and are able to integrate this into our practice together
• Participants flex their intelligence, and creativity
• I flex my intuition, and remain open to taking us in a variety of directions, depending on what we are presented with 'in the moment'
• No matter what the outcome, we value our experience and learning together
• The skills we access in class are transferable, as our work is varied (many of us in the dance milieu wear many hats)

So, for now, I've let go of having a perfect set of parameters, questions, and participants / subjects for my inquiry.  Maybe my research will be unsuccessful or inconclusive.  But even that seems like good learning, as it has the potential to point me in a direction for where to go next.  And that seems very appealing to me as a result.

A few thoughts at (quite literally) the end of module two

I enjoyed reading Helen's post from the last skype meeting of the term.  The idea of being suspended in the unknown as we are learning resonated for me.  

Here is a little excerpt from my reflective essay describing my a bit my experience in module two, specifically, how I strategized to deal the the 'suspension'.  Also, a picture of a 'mind map' that has been occupying some space on a wall in my apartment for some time now.  (Another very helpful tool throughout this process.  All you need is a little painter's tape and paper to make it happen!)

The experience of undertaking module two was one of density.  Whereas in module one I felt as though my work was to resource information from within and put it in tangible form through writing, module two was comprised of the work of externally sourcing information, engaging in tasks to integrate and understand information, and finally organizing it through a written project plan. 

As a process, it involved the simultaneous accumulation, organization, and integration of information.  This was challenging, particularly as much of the knowledge I was encountering was new to me.  My initial strategy was to retain as much knowledge as possible, coupled with a self-imposed expectation of having to immediately understand it.  This was unsustainable, and my research process felt stagnant as a result. 

To set my research in motion, I created a giant (giant!) mind map on one of the walls in my apartment.  What was functional about my mind map approach was that it allowed me write down topics and then add to them, (as opposed to remembering / retaining them and adding to them, all within the space of my mind).  I had created, literally, a picture: something I could see, reflect on, and add to at any time.  It is true that what I learn will resonate at different times in my process, and the mind map supported that reality.  The other task I undertook to keep my learning moving was to start to write.  To write, and write, and write.  Slowly through my writing I was able to make groups of themes that resonated with me.  I then created separate documents for the themes, eventually joining them in one big document, which became my first draft.  These were invaluable tools for my process of learning and integrating the many topics covered in the module. 

Response to Sam Kettle's April 16 post

Sam,

Great post.  What are some of your specific assumptions that you have uncovered as you develop your research plan?

As someone who is pedagogically informed by my previous and current training experiences, I know I carry huge assumptions regarding the importance of autonomy.  Knowing one's body, having a point of view about how to work it, the freedom offered in a class / training to exercise one's intelligence and curiosities.... given my experience, these all seem paramount to cultivating artistry and technical proficiency.

In terms of musicality, I always felt that a great ballet dancer should be like a jazz musician: understand the rules and variables, and then stretch them as far as they can without the 'song' becoming something unrecognizable.  To be musical to me means to be exercising some point of view with respect to the music, (dancing on the beat being an example of this).  And you don't need music to be in the same space as you're performing for there to be a possibility of musicality.  There is a documentary named "Beware of Mr. Baker" about drummer Ginger Baker.  In an interview, Eric Clapton describes Baker's music as being "melodic".  How can drums carry a melody?  Great question.  I think anything is possible if the point of view of the artist is clear, and, certainly in the case with Baker, their artistry and technical proficiency makes possible the manifestation of it.
This brings me back to intention, which we have been exchanging about.  Intention is functional (I think) when it activates something.  If focusing on it contributes to an imbalance in work (ex. too cerebral) then it's not useful.  Often I answer this question of intention by asking myself, what am I working on?  In a class, it could be that I am, following the example you gave, working on 'pulling up'.  I am working on an image, on manifesting an image.  I have the intention of physically manifesting an image through a specificity of work in my body.

In your comment on my blog you mention the work of Erik Franklin, who uses images a lot in his approach to understanding and training the body.  These are great tools, but at one point, (again), I assume that a surplus of images will create an imbalance in my workload and stagnate my movement potential.  Just like how I believe (my assumption) that it is unrealistic to track anatomically what is happening when I move after I reach a certain speed (or perhaps at any speed.  I also carry the assumption that my body is smarter than I am able to know, and can therefore 'do' things without me having to impose my will).

I have been studying with a man who is informed by Taoism.  In a recent e-mail exchange he said to me "when is being mindful useful, and when is it harmful?"  Mindful here is referring to the work of the mind on the body, influencing the body.  And I think "harmful" is describing an imbalance of mind work.  Too much of the mind imposing is not leaving enough room for the body to do what it knows and needs to do.  I am deducing from your blog post that there was an imbalance of the image of 'pull-up' being offered in your previous training, and not enough practical strategies to access it physically (as you identified later accessing verticality through using the floor, and spirals).  Interesting stuff.
 
For my research I am looking heavily at using a Theory or Metaphor Model to approach my area of inquiry.  I like the idea very much of comparing and contrasting values and approaches across disciplines (see above, "a great ballet dancer should be like a jazz musician"), and also feel that a theory model would account for my assumptions, my subjective point of view, and support my development of a model to analyse my qualitative data.

I am quite interested in skills-based and understanding-focused learning, as opposed to performance-based learning (learning that is focused on the ability to demonstrate skills.  I feel in art history this would be best represented by that work which is memorized, important dates and artists and so on).  In psychology, as it relates to education, these are types of learning in goal theory, one is "mastery-oriented," the other, "performance-oriented".  I am looking at the skill and understanding focused, or mastery-oriented method of Tai Chi, and am wanting to cross-analyse it with existing or emerging contemporary dance practices.  What do these approaches have in common?  What are the differences?  What are their perceptions of the body, mind?  How do the values manifest in the practice?  And so on.

Language for sure seems important.  I think the more we recognize and name what is important or meaningful to us as we work, the better the chance the language has of supporting what we do.  And I think (as I am learning about Taoism) this might not necessarily mean finding too specific a language, but rather the language that offers the greatest potential for the participant (dancer) to relate to their body / mind / themselves given the context of the work and training.

Whew!  Epic post.  Thanks for reading.
~alanna

People as Institutions - what does it mean?

When the idea of people as institutions came up in the December 1st skype chat I was intrigued.  What does this mean?  What are the implications?  We were discussing whether or not it was ethical to name a person in our written work with whom we had a negative interaction with professionally.  

What are we doing when we name people? 

Personal responsibility is important.  Acknowledging who your reader is may be important.  (Will they or won't they know who I am naming?  In the instance of Martha Graham, more likely they will know.  In the instance of someone I have worked for in Montreal, perhaps not as likely). A question I had was, when deciding to name someone or something in your writing, what information will it add to what you are communicating?  If it doesn't add anything, maybe not so important to name.  But then I had this question of whether the name could be important at a later juncture, to some future discussion.  In other words, when Graham began we can assume that it was not evident how important she would be to future discussions, to provide context and so on.  

I thought about ethics in the context of a blog post I wrote a while ago, where I named the school I studied at.  My experience there was both good and not good.  Every couple weeks I think about editing out the school's name, but then I think, what if it is useful for the bigger conversation - locally, nationally, internationally? -  to name where my experience took place and provide a context for my reflections.   I need to take agency for what I learned and what I say about that learning.... so why not just say the name?  In the bigger discussion, how can things change or develop if we don't talk about them?  And how do we change or develop things if we treat them like they are immovable?  

Which brings us to (drum roll) people as institutions.  One of the most provocative (yet somehow completely sensible) positions I've come across regarding instituting ideas/movements in dance is that of Peter Boneham.  Peter did and didn't develop a contemporary technique.  It's not a technique because it's not trademarked, it's not called 'Boneham Technique', and there aren't a slew of people hosted at international workshops teaching it.  It shares many of the qualities of a 'dance technique': specificity of approach, clear point of view, values, principles, resulting aesthetic.... and share none of the ones that make it immovable.  Peter was effusive about how, if a technical approach to dance stopped questioning what it was doing and if those questions didn't somehow impact the form, it was dead (not useful anymore).  The field is in flux, he as an artist and person is changing, invariably the approach transforms as well. (Told you it was sensible.  He is a logical man.)  He is also generous:  claiming no ownership over the principles that shape his approach and the resulting forms.  And it's not that his ideas aren't something to brag about: my experience working with his approach was like being one of the people in Plato's cave looking at the dancing shadows and then all of sudden someone tells you to turn around and check out the sun.  It took my technique from zero to hero.  It is still something that informs how I work when I step in the studio. 

I recently decided to undertake dance technique teaching certification, and returned to a conversation with a close colleague and friend about the impact of instituting dance technique.  It really is problematic because it sets us on a path of associating movements to certain artists, and makes it challenging for that movement then to be used by others.  No one can do a 'pleading' without evoking Martha Graham.  Pleadings are an institution.  Graham is an institution.  She developed movements, created exercises for them, those exercises are fixed ('turns around the back' will always fucking be 'turns around the back' ), and laid out a progression for class.  New generations breath life into the forms by offering their perspective, but mostly it stays the same.  And that's fine.  It's great.  That's the idea.  But now we have this problem of do we or don't we teach this decades old style in professional dance schools.  How does learning this technique serve the dancer of today?  Based on what is happening in dance today?  How do we honour what happened before without earmarking so much space that we haven't got enough to assess where we're going? 
.......
Should we name people, if we do so as a result of an unfavourable experience?  No idea.  You can check out my second blog though, where I name the dance school where I trained pre-professionally. Maybe you have some thoughts about what I said, or how I said it, or have something to add.  I am interested in conversation.  My blog is not an institution.  It's a moveable thing.

Answering questions around Ethics, and "I am an Activist / Pragmatist who appreciates both observation and logic"

What actions have you highlighted to define yourself?
Well, I used a photo of myself covering most of my face for my blog, and have not used my name. To me this signifies that I have in part elected to create a bit of secrecy around who I am.  This makes sense to me as, what would be the impetus for you reader to read on if not for some questions left unanswered?  I believe that curiosity and a willingness to engage are related to a desire for more information and /or space for you to use your imagination to fill in the blanks.

What do you value?

• being generous with my support of artists and their work (this usually manifests during a creative process, or training, as opposed to me as an audience member).  A personal connection is often a key ingredient (acquaintance of artist, member of the community, etc.)
• curiosity
• relevant things (not so interested in extraneous things that are far reaching for me to connect to)
• efficiency
• rigour

How do you (re)present these?
As a teacher, I am transparent that what I offer in my class is functional.  I do not use images and my class work is not organic.  It will provide the participant with strategies to assess or access personal development.
As an artist, I request concrete information (a theme, a quality, a setting, etc.) about the choreography so that I can be grounded in something.  If there are many unknowns, it is important for me to have some knowns: this is how I feel comfortable and capable moving forward with the creation of work.
I prefer to be a catalyst for inclusion.  I think this stems from my wavering self-confidence.  I believe that if participants feel confident, or a sense that they have space (literally) to do and say what they need to work at their best, they are more apt to be generous with their contributions.  I conduct myself in work settings with sensitivity to the actualization of such a space.
When I work to access efficiency, I do so through structures that are rigorous and sometimes physically intense.  This may seem counter-intuitive, but I find it a successful approach.  The scenario dictates that to sustain the activity I must be in the task of being efficient.

How have you reached the point at which you begin your MA?
In 2014/15, I observed the problem of lacking post-secondary credentials, particularly as they related to supporting my work as a teacher in accredited institutions.  My extensive field experience was not acknowledged or acted upon with the same value as say, a master's degree.  As a goal I would like to continue working in dance as long as possible.  The idea of retiring is not well-suited to me.  I enjoy working - offering support, sharing my experience - immensely.  Feeling needed and useful are important to my sense of self, and well being.  Not strictly being a performer for the duration of my career in dance seems wise.  I am pursuing an MA to offer parallel employment opportunities to my performance work.

How have you acquired your knowledge?
I have acquired much of my knowledge through practical, self-guided experience.  I discovered that a blue print for a dance career doesn't really exist.  I have pulled information for how to construct my career from the structures of organizations that have employed me, through conversation with colleagues and collaborators, and from personal observation gained from participation in diverse work and professional development scenarios.

I am an activist / pragmatist.  I identify with the descriptions below (from the handbook):

Activists like to take direct action. They are enthusiastic and welcome new challenges and experiences. They are less interested in what has happened in the past or in putting things into a broader context. They are primarily interested in the here and now. They like to have a go, try things out and participate. They like to be at the centre of attention. 

Activists like:

• to think on their feet
• to have short sessions
• plenty of variety
• the opportunity to initiate 
• to participate and have fun

*Interesting side note:  I am completing this blog in conjunction with the completion of my first draft of my Review of Learning essay and it is great to read that activists are challenged by putting things (knowledge, experience) in a broad context.  This is definitely me!  I don't think it's because the broad context in uninteresting, it's just that there is something functional about the here and now.  If it's in front of me, all I have to do is engage with it, and it's working (or, that's the work!).  Whereas, for me, considering the elements that exist within, and that are impacted by a context feels like making a map for a place that I can't envision.  Challenging!  
(Aside aside note: it is also possible that I like receiving attention.  I just read a friend's blog where she posits that dancers need to be seen, respected, and recognized.  I think this is the kind of attention I seek.)

Pragmatists like to see how things work in practice. They enjoy experimenting with new ideas. They are practical, down to earth and like to solve problems. They appreciate the opportunity to try out what they have learned/are learning.

Pragmatists like:

• to see the relevance of their work
• to gain practical advantage from learning
• credible role models
• proven techniques
• activities to be real