Bricks and Branches: Considering our Analogies of Learning

Analogies structure how we understand the world, mapping what we know onto what we want to discover. An apt analogy guides our path forward and highlights pitfalls to avoid, while an inappropriate analogy leaves us lost. What analogies do we use to conceptualize learning? And are they apt or do they mislead us?

We liken learning to constructing a skyscraper. Teachers give us “a solid foundation” and we “build from the ground up.” We discuss “levels” of difficulty and “levels” of proficiency. While the skyscraper analogy is common, it is inappropriate. My thesis is that a more apt analogy is that our learning and development can be best compared with how a tree grows.

Skyscraper construction starts at the foundation and builds upwards. The foundation needs to be rock solid before adding on top of it or the whole structure will be unstable. A flaw in one level requires everything above to be torn down and rebuilt. Once a level is built, you move on to the next floor. Levels also have a hierarchy, with each new floor considered more prestigious than the ones below it.

The skyscraper analogy to learning implies movements and concepts are either 1) at our current level, 2) above us (too hard), or 3) below us (too easy). Under the skyscraper analogy, if a student wants to learn a back sacada but doesn’t have a perfect pivot, then we tell them they need to wait until they have a more solid foundation. Once we can do boleos and ganchos, then a class on walking and ochos is clearly too low of a level for us. When we take a private and the instructor points out a flaw in our technique, then we are devastated because we have to tear everything down and start from square one. Viewing learning like constructing a building means we don’t practice concepts and movements that are at a level we think is above us, and we don’t revisit concepts and movements that are below us.  

Contrast this with how a tree grows. A small seed that sprouts into a sapling, spreading its roots, trunk, branches, and leaves. Growth occurs simultaneously downwards, outwards, and upwards. Even the smallest sapling has leaves reaching towards the sun, and even the largest oak continues growing roots. Each year the trunk adds a new ring, and every part of the tree is equally important to its health and growth.

Embracing the tree analogy guides us in a different direction to how we approach learning. Novel and complex movements feed our creativity while also motivating us to continue growing our roots and trunk (our fundamentals). We think of lessons less in terms of levels and more in terms of what new tree ring it adds to our dance. Imperfections are not a cause to tear down and restart, but instead signal for new branches that we can begin developing. Instead of avoiding feedback and what it tells us about our level, we seek information because it is the nutrients that allow our flowers to blossom. The learning process is no longer an imposing inanimate object but is instead an organic and ever-growing living thing.