I’ve been reading articles about teaching and education in the clinical setting for a “scholarly project”. These articles are admittedly preaching to the choir: people who are interested in teaching and education are the most likely to look up articles about teaching and education. Though these articles include strategies, musings, and commentary that can help improve teaching and are ostensibly directed towards people who could use the most improvement in their teaching skills, those who would benefit the most from these articles are probably not reading them. (Is this sentence merely a corollary to the last sentence? I believe so.) Regardless of our teaching abilities, though, we all can improve in out teaching capacities.

One motif that continually runs through these articles is the concept of reflecting on teaching. What went well? What didn’t go so well? What can you do to improve your teaching next time?

To improve in any skill—throwing a baseball, baking cookies, teaching—we all reflect, though in varying degrees. We often use external feedback to help guide changes in our behaviors (a coach will instruct to throw from the shoulder, not from the elbow; people will tell us if the cookies are too sweet; students will either leave explicit feedback or demonstrate their reactions through non-verbal cues, etc.), but how often do we take the time to think through “what went well, what didn’t go so well, how can I improve things” for ourselves?

Some people think in exacting terms and can easily articulate to themselves what happened: “That time, I didn’t rotate my body enough and truncated the twist when I was throwing the ball. On my next throw, I will focus on the rotation of my torso and solely monitor that.”

Some people only have the vague sensation that things didn’t go quite right: “That throw wasn’t very good.”

Taking the time to make things explicit (and, some would argue, express them in behavioral terms) can not only help us improve in whatever skill we are pursuing, but can also help us clarify goals to ourselves (and modify them as necessary).

It’s tricky, though; sometimes, our self-reflection may not have accurate reflections (which is why external feedback can be necessary). Other times, our stated goals may not actually reflect what we really want (e.g. someone may state that he wants to lose 30 pounds when, actually, he wants a girlfriend). And other times, it is difficult to formulate ways to measure how we are reaching our goals (e.g. what yardstick does one use to measure if she is becoming more charismatic?).

Thus, reflection isn’t merely the process for measuring how we are progressing towards our goals, but is also the way to delineate what the goals are. (After all, it’s hard to amend a goal when you don’t even know what your goal is.)

Benjamin Franklin is a fine example of someone who regularly used reflection and goal-setting in his life. The man was quite skilled in utilizing behavioral principles! He focused on one goal at a time, created a structure in which he could exercise his creativity, and solicited goals and feedback for himself. The man demonstrated dedication and discipline, indeed.

You may also notice that he was skilled in defining his goals. As I noted above, sometimes that is the hardest part.

A new year is approaching and a year’s worth of opportunities to reflect and achieve a variety of goals. What shall we think about and chase?