I went skiing a handful of times as a child, then again with
Nelson after we were married. It was his
first time skiing ever, and though it was really challenging for him that first
day, he has gone from zero to hero in the past three years. Downhill skiing is now one of his favorite
hobbies. This season, I have joined him
skiing three times. The first time, I
felt super nervous and out of shape after having David, and it was very hard for
me. The second time, I was still nervous,
but I did okay. We were at a resort I
was more comfortable with, and I slowly made it down the mountain each
time. The third time skiing this season,
I had a great attitude. I wasn’t
dreading it—I was even looking forward to it—and I steadily improved each time
down the mountain. We progressed from
the easiest runs to runs that were a little steeper and more technical. Nelson asked if I wanted to go to the very
top of the mountain to see the view, and he felt that he could guide me down
the mountain. I agreed, and we enjoyed
the long lift ride together. . . until we neared the top and I got a huge pit
in my stomach. I have a mild fear of
heights, and we were SO high, and I started to worry about how I would have to
ski down from being so high.
It was a beautiful view of the valley from the top of the
mountain.
The lift stopped running right after we got off, as it was
almost closing time. Some snowboarders
blew past me and I looked down—straight down—the first hill off the lift. It was so steep. Just having become more confident with my
turns on less-steep terrain, this seemed absolutely impossible. Nelson zipped down a little way, then had to
wait probably 20 minutes while I got up the nerve to make it down the first
part. Then I saw the next slope. After trying to bravely traverse for probably
100 yards, I couldn’t help but burst into tears. I felt terrified and stuck and helpless and
like a little kid. A patrol person saw
us near this point, and told us kindly that the mountain was closed, and we had
to get down the quickest—and steepest—way.
To make a long story short, I had several more moments of frozen terror
and tears, but I did make it down. It
was pretty awful and humbling and a very good learning experience for me. I know that my skiing improved (we had to go
down some more steep stuff to get to the parking lot and while I didn’t love
it, it wasn’t nearly as bad as the big mountain and I did fine) but it was too
much, too fast.
This brings me to something I have thought a lot about in
teaching and motherhood and continuing education throughout our lives:
If you have ever taken a child development or psychology
class, you’ve probably heard the term “Zone of Proximal Development.” This theory, developed by psychologist Lev
Vygotsky, is that there are things that a person can do without help, things
they can do with help that will facilitate their growth and learning, and
things they cannot do yet.
Photo from Wikipedia
Vygotsky developed this theory during the last two years of
his life, and it has been added upon by others since then. One addition has been the terminology of
“scaffolding.” Scaffolding is the help
given by a teacher or mentor in the Zone of Proximal Development that can be
gradually removed until the learner can complete a task independently.
This simple idea has big implications. It can change the way we help our children
learn new things, and it can change the way we learn new things as adults. Skiing on the big mountain with Nelson was
not in my Zone of Proximal development- yet.
I felt frustrated and incompetent, which is how children feel when they
are repeatedly pushed to do things out of their zone of proximal
development. They won’t want to keep
trying because they have had too many experiences of failure and
frustration.
Alternately, we can’t let our children or ourselves stay in
our comfort zone all the time or we won’t learn and progress. I think our church callings can often be a
Zone of Proximal Development for us, with others to scaffold for us and guide
us along. Sometimes, though, we just
have to push ourselves outside of our comfort zone to keep progressing.
My bishop’s wife is
really amazing—probably the most spunky, energetic, yet humble go-getter I
know. She runs marathons, does bike
races, hikes, etc. etc. When someone
commented on how awesome it is that she does so many different active things in
her life, she said that she has to push herself to keep trying new things so
that she can keep improving and learning.
I’m sure she enjoys being fit, but it’s more than that for her. It’s also about improving as a person.
The Zone of Proximal Development is different for every
child. That’s part of what makes being a
teacher so difficult. It’s a little
easier for parents to gauge where the Zone is because we know our children well
and spend so much time with them. We don’t need to hover and be over-zealous or
be involved in every second of every day with our children. We
simply need to utilize teaching moments.
Babies and children naturally push themselves toward greater independence,
and we can further that independence by teaching them things in the Zone of
Proximal Development that then become things they can do alone. If your child can write the first letter in
their name, maybe it’s time to teach them other words that start with that
letter, or other letters in their name.
If your child is old enough to verbally respond when you talk to them,
maybe they are ready to use the words, “please” and “thank you.” If they can ride a bike with training wheels
really well, maybe it’s time to take the training wheels off. If they have mastered a simple puzzle, it
might be time to get out a more difficult one to try with them. If they understand or become bored with a
simple lesson during Family Home Evening, we can give more detail or use scriptural
language.
The key is to HELP (a.k.a. scaffold) them so they feel
confident and can eventually do the task without help.
I plan on going back to Sundance ski resort, riding the lift
to the top, and skiing down the whole mountain again someday; maybe even next
season. But first I need more time with scaffolding in my
Zone of Proximal Development to gain confidence and skills to be able to do the
runs that seemed to be scary-dark-black-diamond to me.
Finally, sometimes we feel that we are pushed WAY out of our
comfort zone in life with different challenges and trials—often things that we
don’t initiate or are out of our control.
Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ can scaffold us, guide us, and lead us
as we learn in our Zone of Proximal Development (even when it feels like something that we cannot do with help) until we can master the things which we
are supposed to learn.
“The things which are impossible to men are
possible with God.” -Luke 18:27
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