Can We Google-proof Learning?

a post by Priya Dabak

Back in 2017, I did a continuous writing exercise with my class of 17 odd students. We would write letters to each other. It was a gushing overflow of sincerity and bonding between a 24-year-old me and these precocious 14-year-old kids. Dialogue journaling was an activity I had picked up in a Cult of Pedagogy blog post . Here's a quote from that post -?

"I know that they could learn anything they need to learn from their homes with a device on their lap still in their pyjamas. They don't need me to learn. They need me to care."

Who knew, back in 2016, that this narrative would become so relevant in our lives? In the pandemic-driven online schooling, students became keenly aware of a well-kept secret: teachers are not actually information providers. Google does it better. Enter: the armchair experts of 2020.

Yet, while Google is helpful, it also breeds complacency. It creates an illusion of learning, but learning is not as commonplace as knowing.?We've already outsourced our memory to Google ,?outside school and beyond childhood. That is perhaps why schools are keen to safeguard information – keep it a teacher's privilege?

And yet, schools may be misguided in creating a pseudo-world with information locked behind bars. Instead, what would be helpful is to teach students to navigate the uncharted oceans of content efficiently.?

I remembered a recent conversation with my friend, Shoba Mary Jacob , a counselling psychologist. She'd noticed a weird phenomenon in students in primary school (her daughter's age). They've become so used to solving forms and MCQs in their online schooling that they can no longer answer questions without the options being presented.

Is it a "today's kids"-problem? Hardly. More like "today's questions." Shoba thinks that kids are being trained to approach questions differently. Questions are no longer prompts to reflect on freely. Instead, they're cues to quickly look for the solution and move on.?

What happens when students return to physical class? How can we teach them to think, reflect, and evaluate when they're so used to seeking answers? Instead of banning access to information, let's render it pointless.?Let's Google-proof our questions.?Design questions that cannot be looked up:

• Ask questions that have no right or wrong answer.
• Ask unsolvable questions (predictions or puzzles).
• Ask wholly subjective, open-ended questions (favourites and opinions).

In this way, we can only control what is asked, but not how. And therein lies the next difficulty.?Open-ended questions only work if posed by open-minded askers.?Remember the second half of the Cult of Pedagogy quote I shared? "They don't need me to learn. They need me to care."

To motivate students to avoid shortcuts and think on their own feet, take a genuine interest in their thoughts.?

• Ask questions without model answers in mind.?
• Ask questions that prompt thinking, not fact-finding.?
• And teach questioning as a learning technique.

Question-asking is a valuable learning strategy. ?Yet facilitators often leave questions for last. And even then, we only ask, "Any questions?" as if it were not integral to learning. Make sure everyone asks questions. A learning-rich classroom is a safe questioning zone.?

Be glad to answer as many questions as you ask. Recently, a student challenged me to a Cars Trivia quiz. By the end, I had discovered a bit about cars (despite my low score and my proud streak of zero – see for yourself), and even better, I'd learnt a lot about my student.

I don't presume to know everything. How can I? I am just one person. My students come from diverse backgrounds. Moreover, they are bright and informed and are from a different generation. They bring varied perspectives to the table. And when I present them with my blank slate, they are forced to?think?instead of trying to guess what they should say.?

So, like in any good conversation, I also learn. My feedback on responses is not "well done" or "great answer," but often, requests for clarity and my reflections on their points of view.

No one said this was easy. As someone who used to have social anxiety, I've spent more time thinking about conversations than the average person. To me, what makes classroom discourse really tick is curiosity—when students are curious to engage with the content, and a teacher is eager to participate in their learning. Redesign your questions, your purpose for asking them, and you will stumble upon the elusive beast that is free reflection.?

What I manage in the classroom does not come as easily to me in other spheres. Perhaps you can help me out. In your relationships and your jobs, especially where the power equation seems out of balance, how do you ask questions without letting your expectations get in the way? How do you use questions to promote reflection and growth?