The students in the world of Langevonia have been, in general, great. This example comes from a decade before I joined Langevin.
Here is some background. In the mid-80s, the United States Parachute Association (USPA), an association with about 18,000 members at the time, adopted as an option a new method of training skydiving students. It was called Accelerated (as in accelerated learning) Freefall (AFF). It involved for the world of skydiving what was then a non-traditional, student-centered instructional approach. It also involved instructors actually accompanying the student during the freefall portion of each jump to provide in-freefall instruction and as a safety backup. Prior to this time, an instructor prepared a student on the ground and dispatched the student from the aircraft. In freefall and under canopy, the student was on their own. The Accelerated Freefall training process offered significant learning and safety improvement if the instructor did their job.
USPA’s tactic to insure a high level of performance by AFF instructors was to centralize the training and certification process for new instructors. The association did this by having just one course director present the training and supervise the certification process which was heavily application oriented. The instructor traveled around the country—sometimes internationally—to conduct nine day training and certification camps. Typically, the camps involved a weekend of classroom instruction where theory and techniques were introduce followed by up to seven days of practice and testing where experienced instructors acted as students while undergoing the ground preparation for jumps and then presented the candidates with scenarios to respond to on the actual jumps. Detailed feedback and coaching sessions followed each evaluation. Based on candidate performance, points were awarded that could lead to certification. For four and a half years, I was USPA’s AFF certification course director.
Generally, candidates were—at least on a surface level—very receptive. I say on a surface level because of the particular nature of skydivers and skydiving instructors. That nature is captured by a joke. How many skydivers does it take to change a light bulb? At least eight, one actually has to do it while seven stand with their arms crossed saying “I could do that better.” So, when someone had the audacity to try to tell sometimes seasoned instructors a better way to provided skydiving instruction and then to test their skills, there was, in some of the participants a natural resistance to not only change, but to the whole process of the certification.
The Challenge
An experienced facilitator quickly learns to read subtle body language to identify where a participant is coming from. This guy was last person to enter the room. Seating was a bowl shaped auditorium that would hold about a hundred people. I had about twenty clustered in the first two rows. He moved to the top row, furthest from me. He wore a baseball cap and sun glasses which he did not take off as he entered the dimly lit room. He slouched into his seat and—although I wasn’t using them for this training—put a tent card on the desk in front of him. On the tent card was an image of a smoking gun and the motto “make my day.” I made a snap judgment and categorized this person as a resistant learner.
The Response
He was, of course, non-participative during the first two, heavily lecture-oriented days. While I tried to build in as many benefits statements as possible about the content and applications and invite participation, I did not directly address him. As he had put himself out of proximity to the rest of the participants, he did not represent an obstacle to learning for the group and, as he was generally out of my room scan by position, he didn’t affect my presentation or mood. While I didn’t make a point of ignoring him, it was also not necessary to confront him. I certainly don’t believe it would have been productive. Despite his feelings, I knew he was there voluntarily and I also knew that the proof was in the practical application that followed the classroom time.
The Results
During the performance testing portion of the course, overall attitude made little difference. Performance was judged as objectively as possible. He was evaluated on how he prepared his “student” and how he reacted to the challenges on the skydive as well his overall awareness throughout the process. Ignoring some of the lessons from the classroom, he didn’t do well during his initial evaluations. However, realizing that he had to cooperate to graduate, he began to take advice and demonstrate the required performance. Using the maximum allowable opportunities (not uncommon for this workshop), he passed the course.
The Conclusion
When Langevin instructors train other trainers to handle challenges in the classroom, the first response to a challenge suggested is to identify if the challenge is an obstacle to learning for the group. Things that would be considered rude or objectionable in a social situation need to be handled differently in a classroom. Any time a trainer is seen as confronting a student, he or she risks losing the rapport with the group that they have worked so hard to develop. Oftentimes, the best response a trainer can make in the classroom is no overt response – and that is what I decided to do. In this case, the resistant learner had chosen to take himself out of the mix. But, since the training had heavy emphasis on application, the focus soon shifted to the learners. When that happened, my resistant learner did what he had to do and the problem (such as it was) went away.
Paul
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