Probably not my thesis. I'm probably going to fritter away my time doing one Masters or GradDip or GradCert after another.
And when I do do a PhD, it's probably going to be on materials design (at least, that's the plan).
But I had this idea while reading something in preparation for the text I'm going to take today (currently procrastinating), and thought it was worth writing down somewhere. Maybe someone could get some use out of it:
Learner Identities in 2LLs in Rural and Remote Areas. Using memoirs, diaries, and interviews, ask learners who are far away from metropolitan areas why they are learning a language (and why they have chosen to learn it the way they're learning it) and how they see their language learning process/progress.
Finding the learners may be a challenge, but it would certainly be interesting.
Saturday, May 31, 2014
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
Algebra is not about maths
Dear every-maths-teacher-I-had-in-high-school,
About that algebra stuff you tried to teach me... I'd like to have a word with you.
I know what you think this is going to be: one of those "I've never used this in my life and I can't believe you made me waste all that time on something pointlessly confusing for no good reason" rants.
You're wrong.
I mean, sure, a few weeks ago I would totally have gone with the "never-use-it, waste-of-time" option, but I sat down the other day and had a good think about things, and I've come to the conclusion that I regularly use transferable skills that can be taught with algebra - and that it is a useful thing that should definitely be taught to all students in high school.
Just not in a maths class.
You see, algebra is not about maths. Sure, it involves maths, but it is not about maths. It is about logic and reasoning.
Essentially, what you learn from algebra is deduction. You have certain pieces of information in front of you, and you must use those pieces of information to deduce the information you don't have.
Now, maths is a particularly useful way of illustrating this principle, and the principle is particularly useful in mathematics - but quite frankly numbers are about as necessary for algebra as they are for sudoku.
I struggled with maths in high school. This was surprising and depressing for me, because I was very good at it in primary school. I regularly managed 100% results for maths tests and often topped the class for maths assignments.
Then I hit high school and suddenly nothing made any sense to me at all. I realise, now, that this is because there were actually three different disciplines involved in the maths they teach you in school (perhaps more), and my brain couldn't accept them as being the same thing.
There's what I like to call "real world maths" - this is the stuff where the numbers equate to real things and you can see the connection between them. The world is full of quantifiable things, and you can add to, subtract from, multiply and divide these. If I have a pie, I can divide it into five pieces and I will then have five fifths of that pie. Good. Concrete. Sensible.
Then there's that weird crazy-pants stuff that only makes sense in it's own universe. They tell me that, mathematically, it all works. However, you can't apply it to real life. The simplest example I can give is dividing fractions. If you divide a fraction by a fraction you get a bigger number. That doesn't work in real life. If I divide one fifth of the pie by two thirds of the people I don't magically get more pie.
Now, I'd like to think that if I wasn't meant to regard "real world maths" and "separate universe maths" as one and the same thing, I would have been able to work with it much more competently. But, as it stood, I was constantly trying to reconcile the two versions of reality and failing miserably.
Then there's the third subject that gets bundled into the whole "maths" umbrella: logic and reasoning. This has applications to maths, but it is not maths specific. It's a really good, useful set of skills to have, but in a maths class the focus is all wrong. Rather than teaching the skills and applying it to maths, they try to teach the maths and hope the skills come out of that.
Algebra got caught up in that whole "real world vs pocket universe" issue that maths embodied for me, instead of being a very useful and practical skill that assists me in all sorts of things (like solving sudoku puzzles).
So, maths teachers of the world, do the future generations a favour and don't be quite so maths focused. I know you find this hard to believe, but maths isn't the centre of the universe.
About that algebra stuff you tried to teach me... I'd like to have a word with you.
I know what you think this is going to be: one of those "I've never used this in my life and I can't believe you made me waste all that time on something pointlessly confusing for no good reason" rants.
You're wrong.
I mean, sure, a few weeks ago I would totally have gone with the "never-use-it, waste-of-time" option, but I sat down the other day and had a good think about things, and I've come to the conclusion that I regularly use transferable skills that can be taught with algebra - and that it is a useful thing that should definitely be taught to all students in high school.
Just not in a maths class.
You see, algebra is not about maths. Sure, it involves maths, but it is not about maths. It is about logic and reasoning.
Essentially, what you learn from algebra is deduction. You have certain pieces of information in front of you, and you must use those pieces of information to deduce the information you don't have.
Now, maths is a particularly useful way of illustrating this principle, and the principle is particularly useful in mathematics - but quite frankly numbers are about as necessary for algebra as they are for sudoku.
I struggled with maths in high school. This was surprising and depressing for me, because I was very good at it in primary school. I regularly managed 100% results for maths tests and often topped the class for maths assignments.
Then I hit high school and suddenly nothing made any sense to me at all. I realise, now, that this is because there were actually three different disciplines involved in the maths they teach you in school (perhaps more), and my brain couldn't accept them as being the same thing.
There's what I like to call "real world maths" - this is the stuff where the numbers equate to real things and you can see the connection between them. The world is full of quantifiable things, and you can add to, subtract from, multiply and divide these. If I have a pie, I can divide it into five pieces and I will then have five fifths of that pie. Good. Concrete. Sensible.
Then there's that weird crazy-pants stuff that only makes sense in it's own universe. They tell me that, mathematically, it all works. However, you can't apply it to real life. The simplest example I can give is dividing fractions. If you divide a fraction by a fraction you get a bigger number. That doesn't work in real life. If I divide one fifth of the pie by two thirds of the people I don't magically get more pie.
Now, I'd like to think that if I wasn't meant to regard "real world maths" and "separate universe maths" as one and the same thing, I would have been able to work with it much more competently. But, as it stood, I was constantly trying to reconcile the two versions of reality and failing miserably.
Then there's the third subject that gets bundled into the whole "maths" umbrella: logic and reasoning. This has applications to maths, but it is not maths specific. It's a really good, useful set of skills to have, but in a maths class the focus is all wrong. Rather than teaching the skills and applying it to maths, they try to teach the maths and hope the skills come out of that.
Algebra got caught up in that whole "real world vs pocket universe" issue that maths embodied for me, instead of being a very useful and practical skill that assists me in all sorts of things (like solving sudoku puzzles).
So, maths teachers of the world, do the future generations a favour and don't be quite so maths focused. I know you find this hard to believe, but maths isn't the centre of the universe.
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
What is education worth?
Many years ago, for a relatively brief period of time, the Australian government decided that a tertiary education was so vital for the development of our country's economy and industry that they would foot the bill. All Australians (depending, of course, on whether they met the entry criteria) could receive free university education.
This had a lasting effect on the country's psyche, and we (as a nation) are now convinced that university degrees should be free. The entire concept of paying for an education is an anathema to the Australian people.
Now, we couldn't actually sustain the free university scheme. We eventually had to create a Higher Education Loans Scheme to make sure people could attend university without paying up-front, but would need to pay the costs of the education off later, when they were earning a wage and could afford such things.
This was considered something of an affront by many Australians. Every change, price increase or additional expense associated with getting a degree is considered an affront by many Australians.
But why do we think an education is something we shouldn't pay for? Do we think the educators, administrators and support staff don't deserve to be paid for their time and expertise? Is there anything else of any real value that we think should just be handed to us?
The true value of a thing is the amount we are willing to pay for it. And in Australia, it seems we would rather not pay anything for a university education at all. So how much do we value it?
And why do we think an education is something we don't pay for? Is the entire university system supposed to operate on a budget of air and magic?
It's not free. If we expect the government to pay for our education, then we are expecting the taxpayers to pay for it. Why should all of those kids doing apprenticeships to learn how to be boilermakers and electricians pay for someone else to do a Bachelor of Arts?
The Australian Defence Forces have an interesting arrangement. They will pay for your degree, but then you need to work for them for the next few years to justify their costs. What if the government offered a similar deal? They cover the costs of your degree, but then you work for them (in the job and location where they most need you) for a number of years to make it worth their while - and, by extension, make it worth the while of the community whose taxes made your education possible.
If you don't want to work for the government, then you can pay for your own education - if you think a tertiary education is worth having.
There are many people in Australia who would be affronted by that idea, just as they are affronted by the idea that one would expect them to pay a cent for their education - either now or in the future. But if it is worth having, then it's worth working for or paying for.
If you really want a free education, one completely funded by the government and the taxpayers of Australia, then find your local library and start reading.
This had a lasting effect on the country's psyche, and we (as a nation) are now convinced that university degrees should be free. The entire concept of paying for an education is an anathema to the Australian people.
Now, we couldn't actually sustain the free university scheme. We eventually had to create a Higher Education Loans Scheme to make sure people could attend university without paying up-front, but would need to pay the costs of the education off later, when they were earning a wage and could afford such things.
This was considered something of an affront by many Australians. Every change, price increase or additional expense associated with getting a degree is considered an affront by many Australians.
But why do we think an education is something we shouldn't pay for? Do we think the educators, administrators and support staff don't deserve to be paid for their time and expertise? Is there anything else of any real value that we think should just be handed to us?
The true value of a thing is the amount we are willing to pay for it. And in Australia, it seems we would rather not pay anything for a university education at all. So how much do we value it?
And why do we think an education is something we don't pay for? Is the entire university system supposed to operate on a budget of air and magic?
It's not free. If we expect the government to pay for our education, then we are expecting the taxpayers to pay for it. Why should all of those kids doing apprenticeships to learn how to be boilermakers and electricians pay for someone else to do a Bachelor of Arts?
The Australian Defence Forces have an interesting arrangement. They will pay for your degree, but then you need to work for them for the next few years to justify their costs. What if the government offered a similar deal? They cover the costs of your degree, but then you work for them (in the job and location where they most need you) for a number of years to make it worth their while - and, by extension, make it worth the while of the community whose taxes made your education possible.
If you don't want to work for the government, then you can pay for your own education - if you think a tertiary education is worth having.
There are many people in Australia who would be affronted by that idea, just as they are affronted by the idea that one would expect them to pay a cent for their education - either now or in the future. But if it is worth having, then it's worth working for or paying for.
If you really want a free education, one completely funded by the government and the taxpayers of Australia, then find your local library and start reading.
Sunday, May 18, 2014
Q&A: Helfen
The question has been sitting on a piece of paper on my desk for a while now, but I haven't quite found the time to find the answer:
I can't even remember where I saw these, to be honest. I just wrote them down in the hope that I would eventually get off my blessed assurance and find the answer. It's a praxis thing, you see. I never really understand something until I challenge myself to question it deeper, and then think about how I could explain it to someone else.
I'm not 100% sure of this, because I'm piecing this together from two separate conjugation tables which are each giving me half the story. I may be wrong, but I'll discover that later.
In "hilf mir, bitte", helfen is clearly in the 2nd person informal singular (2PISg) imperative form.
I think, although I'm not sure, that in "helft mir, bitte", it's in the the 2nd person informal plural (2PIPl) imperative form.
Now, I'm not sure about this, because one of my conjugation tables lists "helft" as the standard present tense form for 2PIPl, and as far as I know you usually drop the present tense endings for an imperative.
But at the same time, I'm pretty sure I've never encountered imperatives for 2PIPl before, so I have no idea if they should have the ending or not.
In my other conjugation table, it *does* include "helft" on the list of imperatives (along with "hilf" and "helfen"), but doesn't put a pronoun next to it (like it does for almost everything else), so I can only assume it's for 2PIPl.
So, I think the difference between "hilf mir, bitte" and "helft mir, bitte" is the number of people you are asking for help at the time.
What's the difference between "hilf mir, bitte" and "helft mir, bitte"?
I can't even remember where I saw these, to be honest. I just wrote them down in the hope that I would eventually get off my blessed assurance and find the answer. It's a praxis thing, you see. I never really understand something until I challenge myself to question it deeper, and then think about how I could explain it to someone else.
I'm not 100% sure of this, because I'm piecing this together from two separate conjugation tables which are each giving me half the story. I may be wrong, but I'll discover that later.
In "hilf mir, bitte", helfen is clearly in the 2nd person informal singular (2PISg) imperative form.
I think, although I'm not sure, that in "helft mir, bitte", it's in the the 2nd person informal plural (2PIPl) imperative form.
Now, I'm not sure about this, because one of my conjugation tables lists "helft" as the standard present tense form for 2PIPl, and as far as I know you usually drop the present tense endings for an imperative.
But at the same time, I'm pretty sure I've never encountered imperatives for 2PIPl before, so I have no idea if they should have the ending or not.
In my other conjugation table, it *does* include "helft" on the list of imperatives (along with "hilf" and "helfen"), but doesn't put a pronoun next to it (like it does for almost everything else), so I can only assume it's for 2PIPl.
So, I think the difference between "hilf mir, bitte" and "helft mir, bitte" is the number of people you are asking for help at the time.
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