Andragogy & Adult Learning Theory
This week’s readings on andragogy, adult learning theory, and Michael Moore’s theory of transactional distance challenged me to re-examine many of my assumptions about teaching. As a classroom educator, I have often defaulted to pedagogy framed around structure, control, and the belief that scholars, especially younger ones, cannot learn without constant direction. The theories I engaged with asked me to critique that assumption and consider how much of it stems from my own comfort with control rather than the actual needs of learners. Moore’s emphasis on dialogue, structure, and autonomy especially made me think about the consequences of my choices: when I lean too heavily on structure, I risk stifling scholars’ voices. When I allow too much autonomy without support, I risk leaving scholars adrift. These are not just abstract ideas. They directly affect how my scholars experience learning today and how they develop the skills to become independent learners in the future.
I was fully present in these reflections because they tie so closely to my lived teaching experiences, particularly during the COVID-19 pandemic. Overnight, my teaching shifted to online platforms, and I witnessed the sharp divide between scholars who thrived with autonomy and those who disengaged without face-to-face dialogue. I cannot read about e-learning’s evolution, or about theories that stress networks of knowledge, without recalling the isolation my scholars felt when technology failed to foster meaningful connections. My voice in this reflection is not that of a distant observer. It is the voice of an educator still grappling with how to balance hope in new approaches with the real limitations I see every day in my classroom. The central conflict that emerges for me is the tension between technology’s potential to empower learners and its unintended consequences when misaligned with pedagogy. On one hand, social networks and Web 2.0 technologies promise interaction, collaboration, and scholarly authorship. On the other hand, they risk distraction, inequity, and overwhelming educators with additional management responsibilities. Transactional distance highlights the conflict well: the variables of dialogue, structure, and autonomy shift depending on learner needs, yet educational systems often impose one-size-fits-all models. I find myself wrestling with alternative perspectives. Is it the educator’s role to constantly adapt and differentiate within these shifting variables? Or should the responsibility fall more heavily on educational technology designers to create tools that reduce the transactional gap? This dilemma challenges me to interrogate assumptions about where the burden of innovation and flexibility should lie.
Emotionally, my response is complex. There is hope in seeing frameworks that validate what I have felt intuitively, that scholars need dialogue, autonomy, and a sense of agency. At the same time, there is unease, even frustration, in recognizing how often the systems we work within fail to support that balance. I feel worried that younger scholars may be disadvantaged in an environment that assumes too much autonomy. Yet I also feel energized by the possibility that applying these theories could help me move closer to a more equitable and engaging classroom. Attending these emotions gave me insight. My discomfort is not a weakness but a signal that I am confronting the limits of my current practice and identifying areas where growth is necessary. Ultimately, these readings helped me make meaning by situating my teaching within a larger historical and theoretical context. I now see that e-learning did not simply arrive with COVID but has been evolving for centuries, from correspondence courses to Web 2.0, and each shift has pedagogical repercussions. The meaning I take from this is twofold: first, that technology will continue to evolve, but my responsibility as an educator is to focus on pedagogy, while incorporating tools. Second, I must intentionally create opportunities for dialogue and scaffold autonomy to reduce transactional distance. In practice, this might look like allowing scholars to co-create discussion questions (fostering andragogy’s principles of learner input). while still providing structure to support those who need it. Moving forward, I want to ask how schools can build systems that honor both the promise of technology and the realities of scholar diversity. This week has convinced me that the answer will not come from technology alone, but from reflective teaching that balances structure, dialogue, and autonomy in ways responsive to every learner.
