When first starting out as a therapist I was very interested in learning technique because I had no clue what I was doing. My supervisors told me that if I understood the patient I would know what to do. Their reassurance did not prevent me from reading every technique book I could lay my hands on. Obviously both technique and understanding are important.
The workshop on classroom teaching has recapitulated my history in learning psychotherapy and analysis. Previous presentations were on new and exciting teaching techniques. The focus has recently shifted to how we learn. Perhaps Confucius was right all along when he said that we must teach according to the student's ability.
At our National Meeting this past January, I asked Chap Attwell to assemble four candidates from the NYU Institute to present at the workshop, discussing how they learn best. The following are the highlights from that workshop.
My most beneficial experiences were characterized by a sense that whatever theory I was learning about was clinically relevant. In addition, they occurred in an environment that was not dogmatic, but invited a collective grappling with difficult material and discussion of alternative theories.
In order to best prepare for seminars, it helps to have a sense of the relevance of the readings—historically and to the overall goals of the class. Writing assignments prior to classes (e.g., bringing in a clinical vignette) are, in my opinion, helpful for developing a deeper engagement with the material. That said, many of the other candidates seemed to resist and resent such assignments, possibly based on previous experiences that fed some individuals' fear of exposure.
Perhaps Confucius was right all along when he said that we must teach according to the student's ability.
There is the necessity for both the teacher and the candidate to create an atmosphere ripe for learning.
I believe the candidate is greatly helped by the instructor providing some orientation at the beginning of each class, such as the historical context of readings, why the instructor chose the reading, and what the teacher's orientation is with the topic at hand.
However, the instructor is just one member of the group class setting. The dynamics of the group also depend on the candidates, and each candidate is responsible to utilize the instructor's enthusiasm and efforts as a catalyst to further engage with the material at hand. Furthermore, candidates can invigorate one another with their willingness to share their own experiences and opinions.
It is important to remember that each member has a reciprocal role; the teacher learns from the candidate, who is there to teach as well as learn.
The body and mind work toward the goal of effortlessness. Learning is an endeavor that requires effort and change and we all resist these experiences to some extent. To learn, the desire for something new and useful must overcome our resistance to change.
In my experience, some combination of longing and frustration prepares us for change (learning). As candidates, we come to our classes wondering how the minds of our patients work, how our own minds work, and how we will help our patients with what we have learned when we return to them the next day. We are in training because we feel there is more for us to know in order to help our patients the best we can. Knowing I need to know more than I do is an experience filled with frustration over what I do not yet know mixed with the hope that my training offers a solution that will lessen this frustration.
Reading for class enhances one's learning, helps us become better clinicians, and also shows respect toward the faculty who volunteer their time to teach us. Still, it is the times when I have not read that give me a better sense of the quality of the teaching. Everyone on the panel chuckled knowingly when we spoke about the uselessness of starting class with “So what did you think of the readings?” Yet when I returned to class this instantly continued, and in my experience is still the norm. It seems inherently divisive, because it automatically excludes the non-readers (who, despite their ignorance and lack of respect, may still be able to contribute something valuable to class), puts people on the spot, and can alienate the
Gerald A. Melchiode, M.D., is a training and supervising analyst at the Dallas Psychoanalytic Center and clinical professor of psychiatry at University of Texas Southwestern Medical School, Dallas.
readers who feel they did not understand the article. When a teacher starts by giving some fundamental themes of the reading or reads a passage he or she thought was significant, the conversation starts by being inclusive, draws everyone in, and gets us all thinking and participating.
Many, if not most of us, have struggled with core paradoxes of psychoanalytic teaching. We educate our patients to share whatever comes to mind only to struggle bringing that parallel to life in our classrooms. We are feelings experts, and still many of our students are inhibited to fully participate. The workshop has provided a safe space within APsaA for rekindling passionate psychoanalytic teaching. This year four candidates (or jazz musicians, really), played for us. Their riffs and notes sparked an electric discussion that named some of our resistances to creative classroom moments. It was a privilege to be a part of such a vital workshop, a fledgling sample of just how much good stuff can happen in such a short time when the right group gets to work.