Q&A Tips from Peanuts

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Q&A Tips from Peanuts

Introduction

My Mishlei rebbi in high school was known for the Q&A sessions which were a regular feature of his classes. Whenever we had extra time left between the end of the lesson and the end of the period, he'd say, "Gentlemen - I'll take a question." We could ask him any question about Judaism, philosophy, or ethics, and he would answer it, or at least try. And if we didn't agree with his answer, we would voice our disagreements, and a passionate discussion would ensue. And if he didn't know the answer, he'd say, "I don't know." 

I have carried on this tradition in my own teaching. At first it was intimidating to open the floor to any question, but the intimidation quickly turned into exhilaration, and now I love doing Q&A! And if the testimony of my students over the years is any indicator, they love it as well. I think it is extremely important for students to have regular access to this type of Q&A learning. Perhaps I'll write another blog post about why at some point.

Hold that thought while we switch gears for a moment. 

Like Rabbi Dr. Abraham Twerski, I have found many an insight in Charles Schulz's Peanuts comic strip. I have been known to incorporate Peanuts comics into several of my classes - especially when teaching Koheles and Iyov. Schulz most definitely had a firm grasp of human nature and psychology, and was talented at conveying this knowledge through his comics in a manner that even a young child could grasp. 

I was in the mood to write a short and informal blog post to write for today and I thought, "Why not share some Q&A tips which are reflected in Peanuts comics?" These tips aren't just for other teachers who hold Q&A sessions. They are just as useful for parents who answer questions from their children, or for any Jew who answers questions from anyone about Judaism.

I've chosen three tips to write about this time around, though I'm sure there are more. 

Tip #1: Know Which Terms to Define

Over the years my students have expressed astonishment at my ability to give clear and cogent answers to every question they throw at me, no matter how perplexing, difficult, or outside-of-the-box they may be. I explain that this ability of mine is something of a trick which came about as a result of the relatively late start of my Jewish education. 

When I first converted to Judaism and began my Jewish education from close to scratch a few months before my 17th birthday, I focused a great deal of attention on asking for definitions of basic terms and concepts. After all, how could I be a Jew without knowing the basics? For example: What is Torah? What is a mitzvah? Why do we keep mitzvos? Who is Hashem? What is a soul? What is Judaism's idea of good and evil? What is tefilah? I didn't naturally ask such questions at first, but thankfully, my Mishlei rebbi got me into this habit at an early point in my first year, and it stuck.

The more I developed in my learning, the more I realized how many of the Jews around me had not bothered to define or even investigate these very basic questions. This discovery caused me to intensify my effort to make sure that I always had at least a working definition, and that I always made it a priority to return to my working definitions to refine them as my own understanding grew. 

Fundamentals are fundamental for a reason. They are the foundations upon which everything else is built. Because these fundamentals occupy such a central place in my own learning and practice of Torah, I tend to (or try to) see all of the myriad particulars of Judaism in relation to these fundamentals. Consequently, whenever a student asks a question about a particular, I often begin my answer by identifying the fundamental on which it is based, and defining it. In many cases, that basic definition leads directly to an answer to the student's question. More importantly, my use of this technique instills within my students the intellectual habit of defining basic terms, which will better equip them to find answers to their own questions.

Unlike Linus in the comic above, always be sure to define the most basic terms, rather than getting caught up in the details from the get go. 

Tip #2: Differentiate Between Intellectual Questions and Emotional Questions

I don't remember the specifics of the event, but it went something like this. One day after class a student approached me after class and asked, "Why do bad things happen to those who are innocent?" My first reaction was excitement about the fact that this student asked such an important question. This was a student who hadn't shown any particular drive for philosophical inquiry, and rarely asked questions outside of class. 

I was about to begin a response using the approach outlined above when my spidey sense stopped me. Perhaps it was the vaguely distraught look in the student's eye, or the strange manner in which she framed her question (rather than the usual, "Why do bad things happen to good people?"). 

Instead, I asked, "Is there something in particular that prompted the question?" Tears started streaming down her face as she explained to me that they recently had to put down one of her pet dogs because it had advanced cancer, and yesterday her other pet dog was hit by a car and killed. These dogs didn't do anything wrong. Why did they have to suffer? 

I decided to shelve whatever answer I had planned to give her, and instead said whatever I thought would best express my sympathy and show that I cared. 

To oversimplify the point I'm making here, there are three basic types of questions students ask:

1. intellectual questions
2. emotional questions (which sometimes manifest as complaints or outbursts)
3. emotional questions that masquerade in intellectual garb (or questions which are driven 5% by intellectual curiosity and 95% by emotional issues)

It's fairly easy to spot types #1 and #2, but you have to be very discerning to pick up on type #3. The question asked by Sally in the comic strip and the question asked by my student in the anecdote fall into category #3. 

The answers to such questions usually involve addressing the intellectual dimension of the student's question by giving the smallest possible kernel of the truth, then making a hard pivot into addressing the underlying emotional issue, as the situation warrants. Sometimes the student just wants to feel heard by an authority figure, or just wants some sympathy, or just wants an emotional outlet. Deliver the kernel of truth to the mind, then talk to the heart.

If this approach is successful, then it will often lead to further questions which are driven by intellectual curiosity. However, this rarely happens in the moment, and usually takes place much later - sometimes months, or even years later. It is precisely because the student was given a meaningful emotional response when she most needed it that the answer left an impression in her mind, and gave her reason to believe that there was more to be gained by resuming her inquiry. 

This is why it's important to deliver a small but potent kernel of truth even when giving what is primarily an emotional response, rather than giving a response which is pure emotional "fluff." I believe that all people can sense the difference between fluff and truth on some level, and if their teacher gives them a fluffy answer, they know that "the well is empty," and there's no point in going back for more water.

So be like Charlie Brown and check to see whether the student is asking the intellectual question she says she's asking, or whether she's really voicing an emotional issue in the form of an intellectual question. 

Tip #3: Praise the Stupid Questions and Answer Them

Students are often taught that "there's no such thing as a stupid question." Although I get what this aphorism is saying, I don't like the way it's phrased. I prefer to tell my students that "there is such a thing as a stupid question, but you should always ask your stupid questions, or you'll never learn the answers."  

This isn't my own original saying. The Mivchar ha'Peninim says the same thing in a pithier manner: "ask the questions of fools." The Rashbatz explains to mean "that [a student] should ask everything and not be ashamed, even if his questions are the questions of fools." The context of the Rashbatz's explanation is his commentary on the statement in Avos 2:5, which says: "ein ha'bayshan lomed" ("one who is embarrassed doesn't learn"). This is the primary reason why students should be encouraged to ask stupid questions: if you don't ask, then you won't learn. And who is the real stupid person: one who asks a stupid question in order to gain more knowledge, or one who refuses to ask a stupid question and remains with his stupidity? I think the answer is clear. 

But there's another reason why students should get into the habit of asking stupid questions: it is often the stupid questions which lead to the greatest insights and innovations. If you look at the major breakthroughs made by the geniuses in any field - whether it be in science, math, technology, music, etc. - you will find that these breakthroughs were often made by asking questions that are so basic that others wouldn't even bother to voice them, because they would be ridiculed as "stupid questions." In this sense, Tip #3 is very much connected to Tip #1: questions are often labeled as "stupid" because they inquire about the fundamentals and first principles of the subject at hand. 

Lastly, it is important to ask stupid questions because this builds intellectual honesty and intellectual courage. It is embarrassing to acknowledge that you don't understand something that seems simple and basic to other people, but in order to become a thinker, you must be willing to suffer that blow to the ego. Similarly, it is scary to admit that you don't know something which other people seem to know, but in order to become a thinker, you have to be willing to confront your own ignorance and uncertainty head on. 

Be like Linus in this cartoon: ask your stupid questions, and don't let anyone stop you.

Conclusion ... for Now

I'm sure there are more pedagogical insights to be gleaned from Peanuts along these lines, but I think this is where I'll end for now. I hope that these tips are helpful for teachers and non-teachers alike.