If You Cannot Explain It, You Don't Know Know It Enough.

There was a mentoring programme when I was in Temasek Polytechnic studying Biotechnology.

Senior students were matched with their juniors, who could seek their help in understanding difficult subject concepts.

The programme was meant to benefit both the juniors and the seniors (and, I suppose indirectly, the lecturers as well).

As one of my lecturers put it,

"If you cannot explain your subject to someone else, you don't know it well enough."

Live Classes Are WAY Better Than Virtual Ones. Change My Mind?

Not too long ago, I was back in a classroom, teaching live.

Yes, everyone had masks on and inter-mingling wasn't "allowed", but it was miles better than running the class online.

I'm no fan of virtual versions of hands-on activities, because a lot of the learning points and, let's face it, fun, are in the unpredictability of what may happen and how your group members will react.

Dissecting a virtual mouse is nowhere near the learning experience of dissecting a real one (that has been humanely killed).

So, I'm glad to be back after so many months.

Based on what I heard, my students had a memorable learning experience.

And that’s what makes it all worth it.

I'm Leaving the School Enrichment Market. Here's Why.

If the market you've been in for over 10 years is deteriorating into a race to the bottom, and showing increasing instability, on top of a refusal to do things in new ways (i.e. innovate), would you stick it out?

Or would you look into a new one, possibly even create your own?

This was a dilemma I started to ponder upon 3 years ago. Things were so unpredictable, that I sometimes went months without substantial projects.

And then, the pandemic hit. And projects vapourised, with only vague promises, constant postponements, and non-committal nods.

This was the kick I needed to decide to get out of a market that I'd been clinging on to, both because of fear of the unknown and fond memories.

And thus, I am exiting the school enrichment market (in Singapore).

I would have loved to stay, but there are too many things wrong with it, and too little being done to rectify them.

Perhaps I'll expound on these things in a future post and hope for improvement for the sake of those still in it, but, for now, I'm looking towards a future that is, though still clouded, full of potential.

To those I've worked with, and are still in it, I wish I didn't have to go, but I cannot be part of this swirling maelstrom anymore.

Take heart. Things will eventually look up.

And I'm sure we'll meet again, though likely in different capacities.

This isn't really goodbye.

Is the 10,000 Hour Rule Something To Keep Track Of? I'm Not So Sure.

The 10,000-hour rule.

Popularised by author Malcolm Gladwell in his book 'Outliers', I suddenly saw it being mentioned everywhere. You've likely heard of it, too.

If I recall correctly, it's also splashed out over a wall in our Lifelong Learning Institute (LLI) building (in Singapore).

When I first heard of it, my immediate response was to think about something I was good at (or, at least, thought I was good at), and estimate-calculate the number of hours I'd put into it.

And...

I didn't quite hit 10,000 hours.

Did that mean that I wasn't really good at it?

I couldn't tell for sure, of course, and I didn't really want to go around asking whether I was good at teaching.

That seemed embarrassingly self-indulgent.

So, instead of wondering, I decided to double down on getting even better at it and, some time later, I started getting more and more positive comments and feedback about my style of teaching and my delivery skills.

I've stopped counting the hours.

Not because I think "I've arrived", but because teaching is something that I love to do and I've been consciously and purposefully testing methods and techniques over the many years I've been doing it.

Even if I'm not yet a "master" (by I-don't-know-whose standards), I'm certainly better than I was 15 years ago.

And that is good enough for me.