Focus on Education
Art Ellis AMA Education Committee Member
The "Model" Teacher
Model airplanes are as attractive to kids today as they ever were. Sure, kids are different, the times are different, and life is more complex. But undeniably, that all-consuming joy you first experienced so many years ago, when your first airplane soared off into the sky, is as alluring as it ever was. In fact, today the attraction is greater because the novelty is greater.
You can relive that experience repeatedly by working with kids. The process is called teaching, and it is as frustrating, as exhilarating, and as difficult as any airplane you ever tried to build. A challenge!
You can learn to be a great airplane teacher. Don’t be surprised by the idea that you have to learn to teach. Teaching is difficult to do. Good teaching is learned through careful study and thought, and through experience and experimenting.
It sounds much like trying to design and build an airplane, doesn't it? A learned professor of education once said, "The three requirements for a teacher are that a teacher like him/herself, likes kids, and likes the subject. The rest is learned."
Do you have the requirements?
Modeling has probably kept you sane enough so that you still like yourself. You like kids or you wouldn't be reading this column. And you love models or you wouldn't have received this magazine. It sounds like you have all the requirements of a great "model" teacher. Here's how.
Lessons 1–10: Don't instruct!
If you find yourself telling kids how to do something without their asking, you're doing it wrong.
No kidding! Kids love modeling for the same reasons you do—they love to figure things out. Having the answer given to them just isn't fun.
Always keep in mind that your goal as a teacher is not to build model airplanes. That's the student's job. As a teacher your perspective is one level removed.
Once you have removed yourself from any ownership of the models, you have made a giant step forward in becoming a great modeling teacher.
Force yourself. Your job as a teacher is tough enough that you can't burden yourself with the job of building models too. The kids will do the building and will probably make a pretty good mess of their first airplanes. Thinking back, their airplanes will still be about twice as good as the first horror you put together. You know you will have succeeded in removing your ego from the building when you struggle to find something nice to say about a student's first airplane.
Your first thought is, "Oh my God. How are we ever going to get that to fly?" Nothing is straight or square, the covering is half falling off, and the dihedral is so lopsided that it is hard to tell which side is up.
Don't look at the airplane. Look at the kid. If he or she is smiling, you have succeeded and you have taken a major step in becoming a great teacher.
Build an environment, not just models
A teacher's primary objective is to build an "environment"—a nondescript word meaning "everything connected with the modeling activity except modeling itself."
Building a positive environment is a tough job. You will need to arrange space both for building and for flying. Keep in mind you don't need a very big space because the models won't fly very well. Almost any schoolyard will do.
Eventually the kids will build better airplanes and will get tired of losing them in trees. They will get on your case to find a better place to fly. Don't anticipate them, except with your own planning.
Kids don't have access to supplies and equipment, so you will have to be the local hobby shop. You will need to communicate with fellow modelers and with kids and their parents.
Most importantly you need to develop an atmosphere and an approach that is supportive without being judgmental. Try to be "Socratic" in your approach. Most often the sentences you address to your students should be questions.
Only occasionally should you make declarative statements, and save demonstrative statements only for safety issues or to avoid a major disaster.
For instance, you pass by a kid who is about to use the wrong size spar. (The student only sees the width dimension from the top view on the plans.) The wrong response is, "Sally, that is the wrong size spar. Use this one instead."
You're truthful, you're polite, but you blew it. Big mistake! You have built the model correctly (not your responsibility), but have turned the kid off (your responsibility). This response belittles the student and the student learns only that you know something he or she doesn't.
A much better response would have been, "Sally, have you checked the side view of that wing section?"
This second choice will receive a response from the student. This response could be, "What is a side view?" Bingo! You have just created what in the teaching biz is called a teachable moment. "The side view is over here and what do you think it shows?"
Notice you have still ended your statement with a question. You may actually have done the impossible—started a lengthy conversation with a 12-year-old. Kids will enjoy this questioning approach. In time they will learn that your asking a question is your nice way of saying "Watch out."
You are always asking the child to think. Even more importantly your approach also shows that you want to hear what the student thinks.
Hooking a critical mass
When first starting a program keep in mind that "hooking" a critical mass of kids is important. One or two kids will enjoy themselves, and will give you a rewarding experience, but there is not enough social interaction for growth.
As soon as you get to six to eight kids, your program will immediately jump to 20. The analogy to the critical mass of a nuclear reaction is apropos. With enough bodies, building and flying the program becomes a frenzy of activity and you clearly won't have time enough to worry about building the models.
You can teach generalities as long as you don't worry about building individual airplanes. For instance, building poster board signs for your building room works well. A sign that says "Square airframes fly high" is a good way to get a general idea across. Or how about, "Unsailed is half-built."
These quips are fun. They teach and they are not judgmental. This technique is an excellent example of the difference between building and environment (your responsibility), and building airplanes (the kids' responsibility). The more indirect your approach, the more effective your lesson will be.
Teaching kids and running a youth modeling program are certainly not the same as you building and flying. The joy is different. That one step of being removed puts you in a totally different dimension. But the satisfaction is wonderful.
Give model teaching a try.
Transcribed from original scans by AI. Minor OCR errors may remain.
