For non-UK readers, you may or may not be aware that we’re having a general election here pretty soon, in what looks like a season 4 finale for “The Brexit Saga” (many, many more seasons still to come).
I mention it here mainly because it’s made my home life come a lot closer to my work life, as I try to marry Political Science to The State of This with loved ones.
Usually when we talk about learning and teaching, we value proximity. Active learning assumes that more visceral experiences are more likely to generate deep understanding of substance and process than are passive, transmission models.
And it’s certainly the case that the immediacy of the election and the salience of the issues has driven a markedly higher level of inquiry from both voting and non-voting members of the household.
For context, our constituency has become a much more contested one of late, including the current MP having lost the party whip (but still standing) and an electoral pact between a couple of the other parties to try and improve their chances. Let’s just say I’ve got a lot of campaign materials through our door of late.
However, for some of the voters in the house, the situation is profoundly unhappy: levels of trust in anyone are low, the head vote isn’t the same as the heart vote, especially as the heart vote option might not even be possible in any case.
Some voters in the house are distinctly hacked off by this, and my efforts to apply the salve of rational choice action under FPTP aren’t going that well (especially when some voters in the house are behavioural scientists).
But enough of my exciting mealtime conversations: what might we learn from this for our teaching?
Well, it reminds me that we have to be careful not to let our students overly-invest in their learning environment. This does happen with big. multi-day simulation exercises, which is why it’s essential to have a comprehensive debrief straight after to allow they to step back out.
But it’s also an issue with emotional/sensitive topics. We need to be very careful about how we set up those discussions and how all participants frame their contributions. We also need to give space for students to give voice to their concerns and preoccupations, be that in the group or individually.
What we can’t – and shouldn’t – do is try to pretend that emotion doesn’t come into it. Politics is emotional at a pretty basic level, so if we cut that out then we lose both only the recognition of individual engagement with it, but also a part of our understanding.
Stepping back and asking people to reflect on their emotions is part of that, but even this isn’t easy. Which is why we also have to show that we acknowledge and empathise.
Sometimes we don’t have good – in the sense of being satisfactory – answers to issues, and that’s fine to admit too, because it’s in the gaps that our own reflection and understanding grows.
Maybe something to discuss over a family meal sometime?