“Where’s the other cake, Aunt Gail?” my nephew’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. That day he turned seven years old. Together we sifted the flour, beat the eggs and butter, and folded in the vanilla and chocolate. We poured the batter into TWO nine-inch round layer pans and pushed them in the oven. In his little 7 year-old-mind, TWO pans meant TWO cakes. While he rode bikes with his cousins, I stacked the layers on top of each other, swirling them with homemade frosting. Finally, I planted seven candles and shook brightly colored sprinkles on top. (Now does that sound like an aunt who would pull a fast one, who would perhaps hide the other cake in the dishwasher, or who would eat it all by herself?). But my little nephew accused me as if he had been betrayed, “Where’s the other cake, Aunt Gail.” I explained about layers and putting layers together. But he wasn’t buying. “There were two cakes, Aunt Gail.”
Now the problem was that my little nephew had learning disabilities. One of the manifestations of learning disabilities is the difficulty of making connections. When other kids understand verbal explanations, my little nephew struggled concept presented in that manner. What this means is that some children (and some adults) need to see the connections explicitly. This is where direct instruction is so valuable. If I had been able to anticipate the misconception, I could have prevented it altogether by directly connecting two cakes into one as he looked on. Now I present this scenario to share with you when direct instruction is most valuable for children. If children have learning disabilities, direct instruction can be very helpful. So, this is in partial answer to ThirstForKnowledge’s question about when different methods of instruction are most beneficial. If I had used the appropriate method of instruction, my little nephew may have recognized all the love that went into that cake and remembered the event more fondly. Two cakes, indeed! (Now I am capable of eating a lot of chocolate cake.)


