I am not a 'Sponge': how vocabulary stunts creativity and why we should pay attention to it.

On innumerable occasions I have heard the phrase "be (like) a sponge" uttered to students. Not only are they expected to 'absorb' everything thrown at them, but are also required to selectively 'unlearn' much of what they have previously learned. Such language inflicted upon students subverts the role of education and distorts the nature of pedagogy. In this view, students are containers of knowledge who are obliged to deposit into their ‘vessel’ what the instructor says. The Brazilian educationist Paolo Friere termed this phenomena as "banking". Just as one deposits money into a bank account to 'save' it for future requirements and in hope of higher 'returns', the student is expected to do the same. But the student is neither a bank nor a sponge. Knowledge is not data that can be recalled on demand and applied mechanically to yield meaningful results.

When the student is treated as a sponge, they are robbed of their future by reinforcing a hierarchical relationship that discourages questioning. Attitudes of the home enter the classroom. Critical thinking demands critical questioning. This does not necessarily mean that the student will incessantly question, without reason, what they are being taught. But perhaps it is the fear of being questioned that petrifies educators the most. Tutors have to pivot to a mindset where questioning is not seen as an act of rebellion but a natural response of an inquisitive mind. Education has to nurture curiosity. The classroom can either function as the site of suppression of ideals, ideas, feelings and questions; or, liberate students from shackles that hold them back. To do this, the educator has to confront their insecurities, get to grips with the subject at hand and let conversations flow. Teaching is not instruction but a dialogue. In this process, various kinds of questions emerge - unknown, uncomfortable, and unanticipated. Perhaps one of the biggest contributions of a tutor is to facilitate the student in asking the right questions, no matter how insignificant, silly, absurd, irrational, ambiguous and inarticulate the student might think their questions are.

Questioning teaches us how to be receptive by challenging not only our own worldviews but also those of others, thereby opening the door to accepting a divergence of opinions, and more importantly, of ideas. Questioning helps us look sideways and discover a world not limited by our vision. Questioning teaches us how to introspect by examining what we got right, as well as what we got wrong. By stepping back and asking what we really did, questioning can teach ethical awareness leading us to contemplate whether there were alternative ways or means of accomplishing our design. By asking “Why should I care?”, questioning can teach empathy by reducing indifference, for there is much to care about if we are seeing instead of looking, and much insight to be drawn from our environment, should we pay attention to it. By asking indeterminate questions we have pushed the frontiers of science, solving problems that have helped us live better. Existential questions help us make sense of the world and open up new realms of wonder.

Perhaps what is implied when using the analogy (of a sponge) is ‘openness to experience’ - the oft-quoted personality trait often associated with creative individuals. An open or ‘absorbent mind’ however, is not devoid of criticality. Instead of treating students as a vessel which stuff has to be poured into, students ought to be treated as beings with their own agency. Treating them as a sponge entrenches passivity and conformity. This ‘non questioning’ is eventually enforced into a habit. Questioning is an attitude, shaping how the student perceives the world and in turn, conceives it. A world in which they are not a sponge.