Unconventional teaching ideas that work: Using monastic meditative reflection in the classroom (Jake Wright)

By Jake Wright, Senior Lecturer at the University of Minnesota Rochester

In my introduction to philosophy class at the University of Minnesota Rochester, I begin each class with a fairly lengthy session of meditative reflection, based on the medieval monastic practice lectio divina. 

I’ve spelled the practice out for my students in more detail here, but very briefly, I choose an excerpt of text for students to reflect on privately, followed by a brief group discussion, additional private reflection, and finally, all-class discussion.  

The passage is often, but not necessarily, from reading assigned for the day and illustrates some important point that I want students to have a fuller understanding of before we begin class.  For example, I’ve asked students to reflect on Paley’s description of the human eye to drive home the weight of his analogy, and I’ve asked students to reflect on Marquis’ discussion of why killing is wrong to set the table for a discussion of how death impacts the value and meaning of life.  In each case, the selected passage is quite short—no more than a paragraph and sometimes as short as a single sentence—in order to allow students to reflect more deeply on a single concept or point, rather than trying to hold an entire argument, view, etc. in their head.

The goal of the discussions, both group and all-class, is to get a sense of students’ reactions to the excerpted text.  These reactions might include trying to interpret the text, but also gives students a chance to voice other reactions, like confusion, revulsion, or the feeling of “getting it”.  For example, though abortion wasn’t the day’s topic when we reflected on the Marquis excerpt, students were aware of the passage’s source; some expressed discomfort with Marquis’ account not because of what he said in the moment, but where the view ultimately led. 

After the group discussion, I take a moment to quickly collate the responses, which I’ve written on the board, and pull out major themes.  Is there a student whose interpretation is spot on?  Is there an interpretation that is problematic, but in an interesting or illustrative way?  Does there seem to be a common source of confusion or interest?  These will typically serve as both a starting point for the class’s formal discussion of the topic and also useful references as we work our way through the material.  (I typically work from a handout and not slides so I can have more flexibility in how I discuss topics.)

Starting class in this way has had a number of benefits.

First, students seem much more comfortable expressing their confusion during the discussion stages of this activity than they are in other environments.  I’m not really sure why this is.  Perhaps it’s because we’re only discussing a single point, rather than an entire paper or view at this point.  Perhaps it’s because expressing confusion seems safer after a small group discussion where others in the group express a similar confusion; this might offer a sort of “safety in numbers” that admitting one’s ignorance or confusion in front of the entire class does not.  No matter the reason, though, my awareness of students’ confusion is invaluable when preparing to discuss the material; I’m clued in immediately to areas where I need to slow down or take more time, which I think improves the overall quality of the day’s lesson.

Second, because the goal is to collect student reactions—it’s made clear that there are no right or wrong reactions to have—students seem very comfortable posing novel or non-standard interpretations of the passages they’re reflecting on.  Naturally, some of these interpretations are problematic or just plain wrong; this exercise takes place in an introductory course.  But because the discussions take place in an explicitly low-stakes environment, students seem much more comfortable volunteering interpretations without having to have them provided by the instructor.

Third, it gives students the opportunity to construct their own interpretations and do philosophy independently of my instruction, which drastically improves the quality of discussion throughout the class.  I think that one of the great challenges of introductory courses is moving students away from the view that the instructor should provide the answers and towards student confidence in their own abilities to analyze, interpret, and construct their arguments—in short, to do philosophy—on their own.  Since this activity takes place at the beginning of class, students are necessarily engaging in these practices before I swoop in and provide formal instruction.  Throughout this exercise, I’m just the facilitator. 

Fourth, this exercise helps students attend to the emotional aspect of doing philosophy by giving them a space to experience and articulate how different positions make them feel.  For good or ill, our emotional responses influence our reasoning, and I think it would be foolish to either explicitly or implicitly model a purely emotionless view of philosophy as a result.  In addition, it provides me the opportunity to identify potential land mines around which I may want to tread carefully, both out of respect for students’ feelings and often because the source of an emotional reaction is outside the scope of our intended topic.

The main drawback of this practice is the time that it takes.  At a minimum, each class spends about 20 minutes for this entire activity.  My most engaged class regularly takes upwards of 35 minutes.  This isn’t a major problem for me because my classes last 75 minutes, but for an instructor with 50 minute classes, this is quite the time suck.  Despite that, I think that this activity is time very well spent; I’ve yet to find an activity that primes students to engage with the material so actively and meaningfully without my inserting myself as an expert and instructor.  Since I ultimately want students to be able to engage in philosophy, even at a basic level, without my guidance, this ends up being an invaluable practice for my classroom.

Comments

[Paul]

I really like this idea Jake, I might implement something like this in the spring! Another variation, although maybe not quite as effective, is to have them read and write their responses before class and bring them to save time. Of course, if it wasn't worth points they might not all do it, whereas everyone most likely does the exorcise in class...

[Jake Wright]

I'm glad you like it! I would bet that having students reflect outside of class would cut down on in-class time, but I share your worry that students would either then not do it or not engage meaningfully outside of the class without some sort of credit assigned. My worry would then be that if you assigned credit, even for completion, students would worry more about "getting it right," rather than the sort of open engagement this practice seeks to encourage. At the very least, doing it in class seems to generate robust discussion among nearly all students and is more directly in keeping with the roots of the practice, but moving parts of this outside of class could mitigate some of the time concerns, which are not insubstantial.

[Amber]

I've had students keep reading diaries of ca. 1-2 pages (including writing one comprehension question and one discussion question) that they submit each week. In many cases, I let them discuss their diary entries together in small groups at the beginning of class, with quite productive results. The diaries are part of their grade, but I emphasize that it's not about getting the "right" interpretation. Rather I want to see that they are grappling and engaging critically with the text.

A combination of this approach with the lectio divina method might be productive, while still cutting down on the in-class time required for such activities. I might try it next time around! Thanks!