Pay Attention!

One of Helena Iara's favorite songs is the classic samba "O Morro não tem vez" (you can see one of the best interpretations, by Jair Rodrigues and Elis Regina in the mid 1960s, above).  Today, as we returned from the playground close to the apartment we have rented in Los Angeles, she asked me to sing the lyrics again and again so she could memorize them, and then showed off her new words to Rita when we got back.

Yesterday, as I put the song on YouTube for her to hear, she lined up several of her favorite toys on the keyboard of my computer and began to lecture them: "Attention!  Pay attention!"  It might be easy to explain that she is mimicking Rita or me, but I can't remember any time that we have spoken those words in that context (we do often say "pay attention" when her interest wanders during mealtime, but that seems sufficiently different that I'm not sure she learned it that way).  I think I'm more convinced that she is doing something similar to the occasional lectures she gives herself, explaining what she should do before doing exactly the opposite.  She is learning by teaching.

Over the last couple of weeks, we have seen several other similar things: Helena takes her dolls or stuffed animals to the little kitchen my parents bought her for Christmas, and "teaches" them how to cook, for instance.  "Egg," she explains, then "water," and then puts the egg on the burner to boil.  The lessons aren't terribly complex... but then again, we have to remind ourselves that she doesn't actually know how to cook.

But that's where we find the genius of popular education, a social movement that has made such an impact in Latin America over the last thirty or forty years.  Anyone who has ever taught knows the basic insight: we really learn when we have to stand in front of others and teach.  Think about a recent college graduate who has to teach the Civil War to 11th graders: he'll have to learn the history much better than he ever did when he sat in class.  The same is true of peasants or slum dwellers or street kids suddenly set in the place of the authoritative teacher: as one young man told me years ago, "I never knew I knew this stuff until I started to teach others."

So I think Helena Iara has stumbled on one of the great pedagogical insights of the last generation.  Whether it's attention, cooking, or anything else, we often learn best by teaching.  Even if our only pupils are dolls and stuffed animals.