Mastering the Basics

The first time I got a tiger to sit up on cue took five or six weeks.  Admittedly, I didn't work on it every day.  If I had, perhaps it would have only taken me a couple of weeks.  Later on, I learned how to get a pretty reliable sit-up on cue in a a few days.

The sit-up is pretty standard fare for training circus cats—especially tigers.  There are two reasons for this.

One reason that sit-ups are "standard" tricks is that it is something lions and tigers do anyway.  The trick is getting them to do it on cue and with good posture.

Another reason a sit-up is common is that many other performance behaviors are based on the sit-up.  A sit-up aligned with other big cats doing a sit-up is an impressive—and therefore commonly performed—part of a circus cat act.  A sit-up on a pyramid structure alongside other cats is another standard performance device. Perhaps most impressive in terms of aesthetics is the sit-up atop a large, revolving mirrored ball.

Here's a wonderful example of the mirrored-ball sit-up originally trained and performed by the amazing Charly Baumann and later refined by Gunther Gebel-Williams and Wade Burck.  This trick (which you must see live to fully appreciate) cannot be performed unless you have a tiger who can sit-up and hold their position confidently while their seat rotates for a minute or so. This is an advanced skill that is built upon a basic skill.

I've seen some large acts that include several lions or tigers that only have two tricks in their repertoire: sitting on their assigned seat and doing a sit-up one or more times during the performance.  But sometimes that sit-up is an advanced sit-up.

The thing about the sit-up behavior is that it's part of the "core curriculum" in training circus cats. But like any commonly expected outcomes, sometimes it's an easy goal to achieve and sometimes it's not.  It depends.

One factor involves the native abilities the tiger or lion brings to the lesson. Tigers do sit-ups frequently as part of their natural behavior, so most of them are ready to learn how to do it on cue.

Lions are slightly less prone to do a sit-up naturally and also come with a physical limitation that requires some accommodation—a really thick tail base that can get in the way when trying to sit upright. You sometimes have to take more time with lions—perhaps altering the surface a bit and providing soothing reassurance—to get them comfortable with a sit-up on cue.

A standard sit-up may take more time and effort with an easily-annoyed lion than with an eager tiger.  But the outcome is the same.

Another factor is the level of experience and expertise the trainer brings to the lesson. As I stated earlier, after a while, you can get success in training a sit-up more efficiently than when you first started.  You've experimented with what works best for different individual cats—and you've seen all kinds of cats by then.

The very best of those highly skilled trainers who can "teach any cat a sit-up" are those who have not let failures stop them.  Instead, they persist in trying out new (or old) techniques that may work better with certain animals. They have accumulated more tools in their toolbox.

What can we use from this in our teaching?

• There are some basic learning outcomes that are considered to essential.  We'll call them "core outcomes."
• The core outcomes must be mastered before any advanced outcomes are possible.
• Sometimes core outcomes can be easily achieved, sometimes not.
• Some learners are ready—they have existing abilities—to learn a core outcome quickly.
• Some learners come with challenges that must be addressed as they master a core outcome.
• Learners who take more time and effort—and perhaps some accommodations in how lessons are taught—can often still achieve the same outcomes as other learners.
• Teachers can become more effective as they are exposed to more teaching experiences with more students.  
• Teachers who persist when confronted with failure often evolve into expert educators.
• Experienced teachers often have more tools in their toolbox from which to choose when dealing with particular students or teaching challenges.

Photo credit: Circus No Spin Zone

Do overs

Alexander Lacey and lions

Last week, I saw Alexander Lacey's mixed lion and tiger act for the first time. Wow. I've seen a lot of really good lion acts and I can say this is one of my favorites.

One of the things that struck me about Lacey's act was that one of the most impressive behaviors--a series of cat-over-cat leaps around the arena--took two tries.

When they tried it the first time, it fell apart almost from the start. I thought, wow, that one didn't work and sort of expected him to just move on to the next thing. Circus acts are often timed so tightly in the program that taking a lot of extra time can really throw things off for the rest of the show.

But Lacey did NOT just go to the next thing. He put the cats back on their seats, called them down again, and then started them on the same trick. And wow, did it pop the second time. Over and over and over again the cats leapfrogged each other. I could hear folks saying, "look at that that!" to their parents . . . or their kids.

I thought to myself at the time, "good choice!" in starting over. For selfish reasons, I'm glad I got to see it done right. But I also realized that if he didn't make them do it again, the cats may get the idea that they only have to do it when they felt like it. And eventually, they may never really want to bother with such an energetic trick. You know how cats are . . . especially when they realize that you're going to love them and feed them and rub their ears no matter what.

One CAN let it go, then later have a practice session in which it gets repeated over and over and over until nobody thinks it's okay to just skip it. But it works much better if you have a do-over each and every time it doesn't work.

Likewise, in classroom teaching, a series of do-overs is just about the only way to eventually achieve mastery. Remember my previous post Practice, practice, practice?

Sometimes it is inconvenient, even frustrating, to stop the flow of things and work on something that you thought your students had already mastered. One COULD just let it go. Perhaps make a note to practice that part again some other time. But it's much more effective if you just stop at that moment and correct it. And maybe, just maybe, all it takes is that second try. Not a whole afternoon on some other day. And maybe, just maybe, this'll be the time they finally "get it" and it's a finished and polished "part of the act."

Want to see Lacey's act? Check out this video.



You won't find the wonderful leapfrog trick in the video.  The video was published just a few months ago, so I'm thinking that the leaping trick is new to the act.  So I guess it'll be a while before mastery is acheived, eh?

Vary times for learning

Charly Baumann teaching his tigers

I was recently thinking about the timing of learning sessions.  What got me to thinking about this was a recent article in Science News citing research in animals that supports the idea that staggered lessons may work better than lessons that are timed at regular intervals.

When training lions and tigers and many other wild animals, I recall that I got the best results when I used a training schedule that included frequent but rather random short sessions.  I didn't have any particular scientific basis for doing that . . . it just seemed more natural to me.  More like how we learn things from our environment in "real life."  Now scientists are seeing that perhaps there is something to this idea.

I know that with my 8-year-old, if I ask him to spell one of his spelling words for the week occasionally throughout the day, every day, he remembers them much better.  Not just on his weekly spelling test, but for a longer term.

I tell my college anatomy students to study their flash cards in random, short intervals throughout the day, too. Those that do this find that it's a very effective way to learn a lot of facts very quickly . . . and retain them in long-term memory.

Perhaps if we can find ways to stagger our classroom lessons a bit, this should leverage the ability of students' brains in ways that help them succeed.\

My high school rotated classes over an 8-day cycle.  I like the fact that math class was not always after lunch!  And sometimes I could start the day with biology . . . a great way to start any day!  Years later, when I returned to the same school to teach I loved this schedule at least as much as when I was a student there.  Maybe moving classes around this way is not only fun, but effective.

Teachers, do you any of you have experiences in which staggering lessons seems to have helped your students?  If so, please share them!

Want to know more?

Staggered lessons may work better
Training at irregular intervals improves learning in sea snails
By Laura Sanders
Science News January 28th, 2012; Vol.181 #2 (p. 8)
[Brief article summarizing recent animal research in learning.]
lion8.us/yowWa9

Thinking like a lion (or tiger)

Circus Pages

One of the many things that most folks just don't get about lion taming is that you have to try to think like a lion.  To have any chance of success, a lion tamer has to get over that ingrained human habit of assuming that animals think like we do.

Many of you reading this have done that, right?  You think that your dog sees the world the way you do, supposing that she recognizes you by your face, when really it's your smell and your voice.  You think that poor lion sleeping in a circus wagon is bored and miserable, when in fact he feels secure in having a snug, safe place to sleep.  You think that your cat loves you and missed you while you were gone when she rubs up against you, when she's just scent-marking you with her facial glands.  Most of us cannot fully appreciate that animals perceive the world differently.  We cannot fathom that they process thoughts differently and have different motivations, fears, and desires than humans.

That's why there aren't a lot of lion tamers in the world.  OK, that and the basic human fear of being eaten by lion.  It also explains why there are good animal trainers and not-so-good animal trainers. The good animal trainers really get it . . . and make use of that insight.


I think Temple Grandin really nailed this point squarely in her book Animals in Translation: Using the Mysteries of Autism to Decode Animal Behavior.  In it, she relates that each animal's view of the world is far different from what we humans imagine.  She feels, and I agree, that her altered perceptions of the world as an animal expert with autism helps her to see the practical importance of seeing such differences. What is insignificant to us can be huge to a particular species, or a particular animal, and vice versa.

When I read her book, it really hit home with me.  On every page, I heard myself saying out loud, "yes!"  (Hmmm, now that I think about it I wonder how many others heard me talking to the book!)

When working with big cats, I remember learning that it's a snap to get most tigers to sit up and even stand up on their hind legs--but not so easy with lions.  Why is that?  I can't say for sure, but I'm pretty sure that it's because in nature tigers just naturally sit up and stand up when playing or sparring with each other. But lions rarely do.  Besides, the structure of a lion's tail just doesn't lend itself to sitting up as easily as a tiger's on a flat surface (like the ground or a pedestal).  You can get a lion to sit up easily only if they don't have to bend the base of their tail much (see the photo). If you don't take these things into account, you're going to be frustrated with those "stupid" lions that can't learn sit-ups as easily as those "brighter" tigers that can.  When it's not about smarts at all.

As a teacher, I wonder how many times I make this kind of mistake with my students and how I teach them.

One mistake I know I've made is that I used to assume that my students have all the study and learning skills that I do . . . or that I did when I was a student at their level.  It never occurred to me that I had somewhat advanced academic skills and very solid educational background.   Yikes, those are not valid assumptions for all my students!  I cannot assume that my students have the same skills and strategies for taking notes, or for reading a complicated text, or for memorizing facts, or for drawing inferences from those facts. Or that they even have similar personal and cultural experiences as their context.

Once I realized that, I found ways to provide a variety of resources that can help fill in the unique gaps in each of my diverse array of students.  And what a difference it has made in the success of my students!

Beyond that, I also realized that not all students experience the world the way I do.  I've not had some of the varied and sometimes traumatic experiences they have had.  I don't have all the same physical and perceptual limitations as do my students.  Some of these differences are profound.  But most are extremely subtle.  Subtle enough that they're easy to miss.  And easy to dismiss.

I've found that when I have the lion tamer's approach of looking for and examining the unique perspectives and limitations of different groups of learners and of individual learners, I can more easily help them succeed in learning.

Good lion tamers take time to learn about the characteristics of species and take time learning about the characteristics of individual animals. They learn to see and think like a lion. They find that it helps them quickly find success in teaching their animals.  Mediocre lion tamers think all animals should be able to do certain trained behaviors and should all be able to learn them the same way and at the same speed.  And are puzzled over why they don't have consistent success with their animals.  And sometimes experience frustrating or tragic results.

Great teachers are those that consistently help their students succeed by learning what works and what doesn't for different learners. They realize that their students don't necessarily think like they do. The great teachers try to think like their students to see where the challenges and fears are, so they can be overcome. The great teaches realize that "one size fits all" simply isn't possible when dealing with a diversity of learners.

Practicing . . . some more

Lion practice. http://lion8.us/g0KOX5

In a previous post I ranted about the necessity of practice, practice, practice. I'd like to follow up with another example of how repeated practice can be facilitated in an active and engaging way in the classroom.

One of the most engaging ways to facilitate active, fun practice in the classroom involves the use of student response systems (clickers).  I've written about my use of clickers in my other blog The Electronic Professor. Although the first generation of such systems were difficult to use, the current systems are as easy as pie and extremely reliable.

In my anatomy and physiology courses, which are rigorous courses that serve as a foundation for all of the health-related careers, I have found clickers to be a wonderful tool for practicing problem-solving. My online tests and in-class exams are chock-full of case studies and other applications that require the ability to analyze situations, apply concepts, and solve problems. As you can imagine, students struggle with these items. At least at first. When I introduce an example of one of the trickier problems that students will encounter on a test as an in-class clicker question, it allows them to practice solving it is a group. And with me there to help.

Often, the graph showing how students have answered the item tells me that most, if not all, of them have failed to answer it correctly. That's because I try to choose the type of question that I know from past experience students give my students trouble. So when the results of the clicker poll are revealed, I can tell them that they've missed the mark and then ask them to try and figure out what went wrong.

With some leading questions, I can usually coax the correct response out of them. I usually only after some discussion and some group practice in analyzing the situation and applying concepts effectively. This way, they get a chance to make a mistake without penalty and completely anonymously.

And they get a chance to collaborate on fixing the mistake. In doing so, they are practicing the skills needed to solve such problems. And they are reviewing the concepts needed to apply to the problem situation. My coaching helps them learn where to start in solving a problem and what steps to take to get to a solution.

In a brief supplement course that accompanies my anatomy and physiology courses, we use the clickers to do another kind of practice. This one is more like a traditional drill. But not quite the boring rote learning of days gone by.

One of the things that my students really struggle with is how to identify anatomical structures in dissected specimens, models, and charts. They know that they will be tested in a so-called "practical" exam. That is, they will be given a specimen and asked to identify which structure is which. In other words, they have to be certain that they have found the right structures, they have to memorize a large number of these structures' locations and characteristics, and they have to be able to apply this knowledge at a moments notice in the presence of the lab instructor. Not having had much if any experience with this type of learning and testing, and being faced with an overwhelming number of such concepts to learn and apply, they struggle.

So what I do in my supplement class is let them practice on paper first. That is, they do "virtual" dissections of photographs. Then they go to their lab course and do the actual dissections. After that, they come back to the supplement course where I give them examples of what they will see on their practical exam. But instead of answering individually, they use the clickers to answer all at once. And anonymously. I reveal the graph of results from the clicker poll and we see how many people were successful in correctly identifying a particular structure.

If most people in the class were successful, then I either move on to the next item or a briefly remind them of the identifying characteristics of the structure to reinforce what they at least tentatively already knew. If a significant number of students were unsuccessful, then I can ask some pointed questions that will lead toward the correct response. This allows me to give them some additional tips on how to locate and identify structures. Such tips would likely fall on deaf ears at the beginning of the lesson. Learning such tips immediately after failing to identify a particular anatomical structure shows the student hi useful they really are.

I usually set up these drills in a sort of game show format with the timer and buzzer so that the students have to respond immediately, as they would during the practical exam. And like a game show, they seem to really get into it and cheer when they nail it (or groan when they miss it). Because the system allows them to remain anonymous, they are not afraid to make a stab at each answer. They can make their mistakes during our drill and not in a practical exam. By having a large number of such items, many of which show up in more than one drill, they get in a lot of practice, practice, practice.

Do you have some other ideas for effective practice of course concepts and skills? If so, I'd love to hear about them!

Practice. Practice. Practice.

Casey Cainan at practice. http://lion8.us/f0nC0x

I've been teaching a brief course that supplements my regular anatomy and physiology course.  I use this supplement to help my students learn tips, tricks, and shortcuts to learning the concepts of what is typically a very rigorous foundation course.  And our mantra in the course is . . . yes, you guessed it . . . practice, practice, practice.  I only just realized where I picked this up!  It had been ingrained into my psyche as a young apprentice wild animal trainer.

One of my early mentors in wild animal training is an earnest student of the art of presenting animal acts in the circus.  During his frequent monologues about what makes the most successful big cat trainers so successful he kept coming back to one central theme: practice, practice, practice.

When I'd bring up how fantastic this or that trainer's act was, he'd nearly always respond with, "yep, you can tell he (or she) practices a lot."  Conversely, when I'd have a comment about an act being sloppy or boring or "falling apart" during a show, the response invariably included, "well that guy (or gal) never practices."

I guess this strikes the casual observer as a truism: practice makes perfect.  Duh-uh . . . doesn't everybody already know that?!  But in real life . . . apparently not.  Or maybe everybody knows it but not everybody lives it.  There were (and are) a lot of wild animals trainers who really don't practice . . . or at least not very much.   And their acts were pretty unremarkable (unless they were remarkably awful).

The truly great big cat trainers are those who practice frequently. And, of course, their acts are polished and exciting and, well, often breathtaking.

It strikes me that so many teachers, and so many learners, have forgotten the central role of practice.  Perhaps as educators, we are turned off by the "old fashioned" notion of drills and rote learning. And perhaps as learners, we are turned off by the idea of practice, especially repeated practice, as boring, boring, boring. 

I can certainly empathize with those feelings. As a teacher, I want my lessons to be active and engaging . . . not boring and unimaginative. I want the learning done in my courses to become part of my students' long-term memory and integral to their ongoing ability to apply what they know and to solve problems creatively. And, alas, haven't we been told time and again that practice, practice, practice is passé?

However, my experience tells me that I can do both.

My successful outcomes for learning in my courses tells me that I can facilitate repeated practice while at the same time having my students engage in active learning. I think we need to be like the more successful lion tamers who know how to facilitate practice successfully. Rather than making rote learning the beginning and end of our teaching strategy, which I contend is truly old-fashioned, we can use active learning methods to promote repeated engagement with the concepts of the course.

For example, I no longer give frequent in-class tests and quizzes.I instead have my students engage in in-depth online tests. Because I use huge test banks with randomized question sets, they can attempt each test multiple times without getting the same set of questions. Because they want a good grade, and perhaps even because they really do want to learn the concepts, most of my students take all the attempts that they're allowed.

Although these tests do contain some strictly factual questions, most of the items require higher-order thinking skills. And many items require some additional research beyond what is immediately apparent in their class notes and in the textbook. These items ask students to apply concepts, to evaluate situations, and to dig deeply into the significance of each subtopic. They are tested on both details and "the big picture." By time they are ready to take my in class exams, they have had an extraordinary amount of practice in grappling with both the straightforward and the not-so-straightforward concepts and applications of the topics covered.

This is not rote learning. But it does involve a lot of practice, practice, practice.

And what is really great about this approach is that, although the students fully realize that they are spending a lot of time and are working very hard, they do not have the feeling of drudgery. They are fully engaged trying to solve problems, reveal the mysteries of a case study, and answer tricky questions.

This is just one of many examples of how repeated practice can be active and engaging. I'd love to hear your comments on ways you found to facilitate repeated practice without it being a dreaded, boring activity.