Essay

Redefining the Learner — Instructor Relationship through Cribbage

by Michael Johnny

I want to dispel the naďve notion that literacy is rooted exclusively in reading and writing. I allow myself to be critical of this narrow-minded view of literacy because I once held it for many years.

When I began working at the Hamilton Regional Indian Centre as the Native Literacy Coordinator in 1992, I brought with me all my biases toward literacy. I thought that I was culturally sensitive, but I was unaware of the conditions required to support learning. Native literacy is much more than reading and writing, and the acquisition of those skills. It is based on a holistic approach that encompasses the development of the emotional, spiritual, mental, and physical aspects of one’s self. Native literacy impacts the individual, family, community, and nation. I was in for a learning journey that continues to this day.

Adult literacy is all about people. Success is only achieved when every learner is regarded, respected, and understood as a unique person with his or her own goals. To achieve success the individual must come first. A simple premise, yet one that can get lost in the desire to fulfill learning outcomes, or to meet statistical objectives. I can’t count the number of times that lesson plans were altered or even cast away in order to deal with issues in learners’ lives. For the men involved in the program’s Men’s Circle, these issues may have been anger management, assertiveness, parenting skills, or a host of other things. Learning can only occur in an environment that is safe, comfortable, and conducive to learning. One that is physical, mental, spiritual, and emotional. Accepting and respecting this fact made me a better instructor in Native literacy.

An elder passed on this saying passed to a good friend of mine: Earning trust in the Native community requires 10,000 cups of tea to be consumed. For me, an unhealthy love for coffee and an ability to consistently lose at the game of cribbage were my entrance passes to the community. I discovered that cribbage could be a vehicle for communicating and sharing that supported learning.

I clearly recall the first Men’s Circle when the crib boards were brought out, and the men played cards, laughed and shared their experiences. There was safety and trust in that environment. It was probably the first time since I had started working in the program that I felt comfortable. I didn’t understand until some time afterward how vital it is to build trust with learners. Trust needed to be demonstrated, not just articulated and cribbage helped me build that trust.

In addition to helping me build trust, cribbage challenges players to employ skill and strategy to play out a hand that will permit them to score more points than their opponent. There are many rules, and it is possible for a player to enjoy varying degrees of success and failure within the game. For example, a player can win, or can "skunk" someone (a better way to win). To play, players require skills in math, as well as in verbal and physical communication. It’s not difficult to transfer the skills required to play cribbage to the Learning Outcomes Matrix that all literacy instructors in Ontario are required to follow with each learner.

The Learning Outcomes Matrix is a lengthy, detailed, and often difficult-to-understand document that allows a literacy worker to document the progress of learners in three domains: communications, numeracy, and self-direction and self-management. Cribbage requires all these skills, and more importantly, requires players to follow instructions (rules) and manage one’s emotions.

Through the hundreds of cribbage games I played as Native Literacy Coordinator, I observed, listened, and tried to understand my opponent. I lost most games (my numeracy skills were offset by bad luck and a transparent strategy that led to a few "double skunks" at the hands of my opponents). As a result, we practised skills in diplomacy — my opponent the gracious winner and I the humbled loser.

Cribbage was a safe, comfortable, and effective way to break down the instructor–learner barriers and build an equal relationship. It created an environment in which I learned about the whole person — information that was crucial for me as an instructor. It supported an ongoing evaluation and assessment process, and for the learner, provided a sense of self that went beyond the "learner" label imposed on individuals when they entered the Native literacy program.

During the game, gone is the formality of the instructor–learner relationship. Each participant shares personal stories and experiences. But the relationship did not always work out. Sometimes, learners did not feel comfortable with me, and it was only after we acknowledged this that we were able to work together to find a suitable match for instruction.

Trust enables a two-way exchange of information, support, and teaching. I worked hard to earn the trust of the community and each learner I worked with. I valued their experiences and let them know when their actions and experiences had made a difference for me. Trust, in mainstream education, is viewed as a power relationship between the instructor and the learner, with the instructor holding the balance of power. But the relationship may not have to do with trust as much as with responsibility. Trust is earned. It can be gained or lost. Trust is sacred and must be honoured and valued as such.

Little changed when we broke from that first Men’s Circle in which men shared their life experiences to congregate around the crib boards. The crib board — for those men — held the honour as the eagle feather does in the circle. We listened to each other, we respected each other, and we were good to ourselves.

I am proud to admit that I have learned a lot about myself as a worker, man, father, son, husband, friend, instructor, and learner through my work with the Native community. I also discovered that my ability to listen served me better than my ability to speak. I learned the significance of treating all learners with respect, understanding that regardless of their education, background, or nation, they have a story to tell. Through their stories I was able to hear their goals, and see their vision for the future.

I have since moved on from the Centre and from my work as a Native Literacy Coordinator. I still like to visit the Centre on occasion, and when I do, I understand why I subconsciously gravitate to the coffee pot and the crib board. I am still learning.

Michael Johnny is a part-time student in the Canadian and Native Studies Program at Trent University. He is a candidate for a Masters of Arts degree, and is researching the Holistic Approach to Native Literacy in Ontario.