I taught in IB (International Baccalaureate) schools for more than two decades. It purports itself to be the premiere college prep course in the world. I have my doubts, serious doubts about that claim to fame; but I’ll save that for another time. For now, suffice it to say it’s a dog and pony show more interested in profit than preparation. Although it does hit the students and teachers with enough useless electronic paperwork and bullshit to help the students steel themselves for life.
Notwithstanding, there is one worthwhile course that is exclusive to the IB Programme. Hey, that’s the way they spell it, damned Brits. That course is Theory of Knowledge, and it’s unlike any other in the world.
The whole idea behind ToK is to get students and teachers to think differently about their perception of the world and of themselves. ToK does not teach any new information to the students; that is not its purpose.
Instead, it demands that the student proves that he knows what he knows is accurately true. It demands that he uses two or three of the ToK eight Ways of Knowing (WoKs) to defend his position. The main question in ToK is, “How do you know…?”
It is not a learning class; it is a thinking class. And it is a helluva lot of fun to teach.
Basically, the teacher must be creative, nimble of mind, and flexible. It is a 99% discussion, debate and argument class. It’s up to the teacher to introduce the daily topic, start the daily debate, and minutely maintain control and guidance thereafter.
The topic can be anything. Here’s a very simplistic example.
I hold up a sheet of white copy paper, blank on both sides, “Sarah, what is this?”
“A sheet of white copy paper.”
“Okay. How do you know that’s what it is?”
“Through sensory perception I can see that it’s white and language tells me to associate that word to describe it.”
“Okay. So you know that it’s a white sheet of copy paper. Are you sure?”
And before she can say yes, I turn, “Carlos, if you held this same sheet of paper in front of a blind man in your hometown of Caracas, what might he say that it is?”
And the discussion ensues, spurred on by What if’s and Yeah, but’s.
Of course, topics are more complicated than that, but the process and results are the same. The process is the most important dynamic in ToK: to ask yourself, “How do I know that?”
Discussions are great and take off in completely unexpected directions, especially in an international school ToK class with 14 kids from 14 different cultures. It’s a helluva lot of fun to teach.
The main problem with ToK is that the students don’t take the class until they are 16-17 years old, and it’s worth less than one credit. They aren’t used to thinking that way, don’t see the point of questioning how they know everything they know and are being taught in other classes.
My solution was always to introduce it to kids as young as grade six in my English classes. Younger minds are more malleable, more adaptive to alternate ways of viewing the world. They are beginning to explore themselves and they view ToK as a fun way to do this. They’re right.
Within the first few weeks of every new school year, I’d hit all of my introductory students with the old classic, “Which came first, the chicken or the egg?” I’d listen to their answers and then introduce them to the eight Ways of Knowing, asking them to use two of these WoKs to support their positions.
The younger kids caught on right away. Some of the older kids were still struggling with it a month later.
Anyway, here are the ToK 8 WoKs. Even ToK admits that they really don’t know what they’re talking about (unheard of in the hallowed annals of IB), but it actually says in chapter two of the textbook that this is why the course is Theory of Knowledge.
Using these socially is a fun way to spark any conversation with anyone or to keep a conversation going. Oh, disguise them cleverly of course, but they’re great at cocktail parties to hush up Mr. Loves Himself.
Global English Tutor - Paul Cuadrado 