Coming About

Dear Reader:  This post was first written in June, 2009, then put on “hold” while I finished other projects. I was searching for a way to explain what educators in the M.Ed. in Adult Learning program learn, and how they say they have changed. I have, at last, simply decided to use their words. So, here is the original post, and, at the end, a postscript on my tomatoes.

Just Add Water.

I was going to title this post, “Fertilizer,” then realized what sort of atrocious spam it might spur from my header (but I might get that anyway).  Also, I don’t know yet whether fertilizer is the key to remedy the yellowing leaves on my exciting new cherry tomato plants … see the photo of my potted tomatoes on the deck? Lots of flowers and, if you look carefully, the first fruit of my harvest in those tiny little green orbs.  But what has me concerned are the yellowing leaves as the base of the plant. At first there were just a few, but now it seems to me as if the whole plant has a slightly yellow cast.

I went to the computer and Googled my concerns to find similar queries and investigate what other gardeners were trying. You see, this is a new foray for me into vegetable gardening in containers, as I’m a floriculture person, and always have been big into flowering plants. These are my deck pots and hanging baskets overflowing with salmon-pink petunias and lavender blue verbena. This time of year I spend my early mornings watering.

My search brought up pages and pages devoted to yellowing tomato plant leaves … hmmm…. really a big problem, it seems. It could be the type of pot I’ve chosen, plastic (cost was a factor here), as the giant terra cotta ones carry a helfy price tag and I was already spent-out for the summer on plants and plant supplies when I indulged in a secret fantasy I’ve had for two years now to grow my own cherry tomatos. I picked up two little “Sweet 100″ plants at Ukrops in mid-May, and then had to go buy all the rest of the needed supplies, but didn’t want to invest in heavy, expensive pots. Looks like I may need to re-think that for next year! Of course plastic containers, even 14 or 16-inch ones, don’t breath like terra cotta. Maybe my roots are just too hot and pot-bound.

Or, and this appears more likely from my reading, it’s a mineral deficiency. I had enough plant knowledge to already consider this, so I watered thoroughly again yesterday with my newly acquired bottle of organic fertilizer composed of rather ghastly smelling seaweed and fish extracts.–a brown, smelly goop.  I was headed for my trusty Miracle-Gro when the lady at the garden center said to me, “Do you really want to eat Miracle-Gro?” I hadn’t thought about it, but when I did, I said, “No” and succumbed to the more expensive bottle of brown goop. Now, whenever I fertilizer the two plants, the dogs go sniffing around the containers like crazy. 

“Could be magnesium deficiency,” said the Internet. The remedy? Go get some Epsom salts and follow the directions on the package. Epsom salts? Well, okay, that’s not too expensive.  I’ll get some tomorrow and try it. Can’t hurt (or can it?). Do you really mean that the Epsom salt package is going to have directions for yellowing plant leaves? Amazing.

“Grind up some cigarette butts and put them in the soil.” “Oh, no, don’t do that,” said another Page, you’ll encourage tobacco mosaic,  a serious tomato disease. That one I remember from my Plant Pathology course at NVCC, taken years ago. Don’t worry, I don’t smoke, and am certainly not going to seek out cigarettes for my cherry tomatoes.

“Get a rusty nail and put it in the soil an inch from the stem, and water as usual,” said the other Gardening Expert. Iron deficiency. I don’t have any rusty nails, and not sure I can get one to rust as fast as I need it to.

“Water more.”  “Water less.”  “Could be due to dramatic changes in temperature.” It was mid-90’s over the weekend after a week of cooler weather. Maybe that’s it. “It’s a natural part of the growth process; just pick them off.” If I picked off all the yellow leaves, the entire plant would be bare. “Fusarium wilt.” Oh, dear. If it’s that, then I’m lost for the season, a fact confirmed by the writer : “Get new plants and be sure to throw out the soil.”

So far, none of this is very helpful. Maybe I do need more micro-nutrients, maybe I should return to my trusty plant fertilizer which has a successful history with my flowers, maybe I’m not watering correctly, or maybe I have fusarium wilt, but I don’t think the latter is the real culprit. Like everything else in life when learning to do something new, I guess I need to continue to research, read, and experiment to see what works and what doesn’t.  Which brings me to my students, the learners in the M.Ed. in Adult Learning program at VCU.

Just Add Knowledge (well, not quite).

I’ve been doing a lot of two things lately in addition to a little gardening. One is meeting with new or prospective students for our program. The other is working on a couple of research projects, trying to make this summer a productive one for writing and getting some journal articles out since I am not teaching during the summer months for the first time in five years. 

I had some renewed momentum for the self-directed learning article with my colleages in our Learning Technology Research Group at the CTE at VCU. I re-immersed myself in the literature and I think I have a structure for this article: It only needs a few more serious days. In the meantime, the deadline looms for a promised chapter on blogging for an exciting new book on using digital media; it focuses on best practices in the classroom.  I was honored to be invited to write a chapter on what we are doing with blogging as reflective practice in our program. 

So, SDL article moves to back burner (again) and the blog study has perked to the top.  My week has been spent re-reading the data, putting it into NVivo for coding, and thinking about the differences between our learners when they come in the door and when they leave– that transformation of self that I see time and time again.  New learners to accomplished graduates – the raison d’etre for my work and career.  It’s what happens in between that’s so exciting that brings me back to my “growing” analogy. 

When I talk with prospective students to our program, I’ve come to realize that they come to see me because they want a face-to-face connection with what they are about to commit to in terms of time and energy. They can get the nuts and bolts of the curriculum, the goals of the program, and the mechanics of how to apply from our School website. The adult learner who sits in my office is basically saying to me, without these words, “I am a busy professional;  I teach (train, educate, work with) other adults in (a wide variety) of organizations.  If I commit my time, my money, and most of all, my energy, what will I get in return?” They are weighing the pros and cons.  “How much time will I need to spend each week with my classes and my studying?” [TRANSLATION: "I have two children, a dog, and a spouse; I have a lawn to mow, I have civic and church groups that I am a part of that mean something to me ... will I have to give these up? How will I fit this master's or doctoral degree in to any already busy schedule?"].

I have come to realize that what brings them to me is not the desire to change something by starting a new educational endeavor, but the desire to make meaning of changes already occurring within their lives and their work. Later on, the learning they acquire may lead to even more changes (I hope so), but basically, the changes have already begun.  What we in higher education do is foster what the developmental process has already set in motion through some other series of life events. In this regard, our role becomes one of enabler. We are the fertilizer, if can use that metaphor, to enhance the internal growth process that has already begun.

So, how to foster and best support this growth? I’ve gotten some great answers to that in reading the data from eleven of our students who volunteered to be a part of the study my colleague and I conducted this year to understand how blogging can deepen their learning.  Many of them have just recently graduated from our program.  I can see the transformations that have taken place. They have reflected deeply, and sometimes profoundly, on the changes in their lives since beginning the program. They have surprised themselves (and, no doubt, a few others) by new actions, new ways of being, new ways of thinking that their learning has spurred.  This story extends far beyond  “Just add knowledge.”  

What a journey it has been thus far.  I think back to the beginning of this journey, when I first discovered the program and went through all the steps of the application process.  I remember walking into my first class, and the day I finished my first course.  I distinctly remember thinking, “One down, 12 to go!”  In a way, those days seem so long ago, yet here I am in my final semester.  I will save most of my overall reflections of the program for the end of the semester, but needless to say, it has been an amazing learning experience.  I have learned so much about adult learning, organizations, working with other people, and most importantly, myself.  I know that this experience has had a great experience on my personal learning as well as my skills as an adult educator.  I am excited to finally have “M.Ed” after my name …

It took me longer than most, but I can now say that I have a Masters in Education with a concentration in Human Resource Development.  What a journey.  When I started the program in 2004, I merely wanted to take a couple classes to get a better sense of adult learning, because I had just taken on a new role as the head of Talent and Learning.  After the first courses, I was hooked on the topic, hooked on the learning and ready to join the program.  Five years later, I have completed the core courses in Research Methods, Program Planning and Evaluation, Adult Learning and Development.  Those behind me, I began the HRD track which happened to coincide with major challenges at work, and ultimately the rare situation of eliminating my own job and that of my team, as my company fell prey to the economic woes of the real estate, mortgage and credit crises. 

As difficult as this was, there is no better teacher than crisis.  The difficulties that we experienced trying to downsize, deliver more with less, restructure our own area while helping the business leaders deal with the same situation in their areas was an experience that provided tremendous practical insight into the theories we were learning in the HRD program.  My classmates became my friends, my therapy group and helped me to work through the challenges we were experiencing.  Ultimately, my job loss gave me the opportunity to complete the program a year ahead of schedule.  For me, I am ready to take what I have learned and continue to grow professionally and personally.  I don’t know exactly what that means, but I am confident that the next step is right around the corner.

So here is the place where I have arrived in my thinking: we learn to make sense of developmental changes that are spurred by many other life circumstances: the birth of a child, the death of a spouse; a change in job role or entry into a new field of employment.  Sometimes, these developmental changes are so subtle that we scarcely recognize them as such, and we simply feel a desire to extend ourselves in a new or renewed direction.  At other times, our desire to learn is spurred by problems we encounter, tomatoes that are turning yellow (!), or grass that could be greener.   When we arrive at this place, we are fortunate to find so many opportunites to direct our own learning, and helpers along the way to assist us.  The adult learners who graduate from this program will be among the special few privileged to accompany other adults along that same journey. It’s part of the joy of of teaching, and, for sure, it is the joy of learning –continuous, lifelong, and ever-demanding in it challenges and rewards.  My tomatoes have turned out to be a success, and I harvest their delicious red fruit each day now.

Harvesting the adult educators in our Adult Learning program is even more fun.