One of my fondest learning experiences from elementary school was in fourth grade, when we had immersive lessons on birds. This has stayed with me for years because of the multi-sensory nature of the experience. I still have the bird book we used as text.
Our teacher encouraged us to read about birds and listen to bird calls. We drew them in ink and in paint. Our capstone project involved making something tangible for real birds.
I chose to make a bird bath. Nothing fancy. A plastic plate affixed to a wooden stand and base. I remember asking for help and my father generously spending hours with me, helping me to observe how it ought to be fastened together.
He never took over, though clearly he should have. My attempt was rud…
One of my fondest learning experiences from elementary school was in fourth grade, when we had immersive lessons on birds. This has stayed with me for years because of the multi-sensory nature of the experience. I still have the bird book we used as text.
Our teacher encouraged us to read about birds and listen to bird calls. We drew them in ink and in paint. Our capstone project involved making something tangible for real birds.
I chose to make a bird bath. Nothing fancy. A plastic plate affixed to a wooden stand and base. I remember asking for help and my father generously spending hours with me, helping me to observe how it ought to be fastened together.
He never took over, though clearly he should have. My attempt was rudimentary at best, and it came apart at the bus stop. Leaving me in tears then—yet with insight now.
Whether you’re an educator, a parent, or a creative, the ability to observe is at the heart of each role. My father did not correct my efforts as I executed on my vision. Instead, he taught me to observe. And then, after my project collapsed, he asked me to consider what I failed to see.
Why We Do What We Do
Remember when you learned to drive? Likely, you viewed training films and watched other drivers long before you got behind the wheel. And then you had to log many hours driving with someone capable of sharing feedback on how you were doing.
All learning is like this. Watch and learn, watch then do. The role of observation in our daily lives enhances our perception, and it syncs the efficiency of all of our senses. This is because our brains are wired to learn by observing. When we see someone perform a certain action or convey certain emotions—with demonstrable body language—our mirror neurons create mental images we can draw on later, to complete the same task or respond to similar emotions. This is why role modeling the behavior you want to see in your children is so powerful. Showing kindness in your community brings about more kindness. In our relationships, the golden rule also applies: Do unto others as you would have them do to you.
After my mishap with the bird bath, both my dad and my fourth-grade teacher asked me the same all-important question. “If you were to make it again, what might you do differently?”
Thanks to how our brains are wired to observe, we also learn vicariously. Mistakes are good! Imagine we’re on a hike together and I traverse the rugged terrain before you do. If I trip on a tree root, you get to avoid it. When we observe the actions of another—and we don’t like what we see—we’re not doomed to repeat it. In this way, we have the opportunity to make corrections and adjustments to the approach we take to complete the same or similar task.
Finessing your ability to observe will benefit you in countless ways. As a lifelong learner, it will not matter what you choose to look at closely. Whatever the focus of your gaze, if you do it often enough, you will strengthen your ability to reflect.
What will you decide to study to shape what and how you learn?