Teaching Adults vs. Teaching Children
Different rooms, same attunement, different scaffolding.
A fourth grader in my classroom in Sunset Park needed every instruction decomposed into single steps. Take out your notebook. Good. Turn to page twelve. Good. Now look at the board. See the problem in the red box. Copy that problem onto your page. Same information as a compound instruction. The difference is that each step is small enough to hold.
An adult learner would be insulted by that sequence. They can hold compound instructions. What they can’t hold is ambiguity about why they’re doing it. Adults need the why before the how. Kids need the how before the why.
The attunement is the same in both rooms. Read the person. Figure out where they’ll get stuck. Design the instruction to fit their processing reality. The scaffolding is different because the processing profile is different.
Children process sequentially and need external structure. The graphic organizer, the visual schedule, the step-by-step decomposition. Their working memory is developing. The scaffold provides the architecture their cognitive development hasn’t built yet. You’re building the scaffold they’ll eventually internalize.
Adults process contextually and need rationale. They bring existing frameworks from their own experience. When I teach a design concept to an adult, I don’t start with the principle. I start with a situation they recognize: the Shopify template that makes quality invisible, the meeting where the feedback contradicted itself, the project that drifted without anyone noticing. The situation provides the context. The principle follows from the context.
The failure mode with children is overloading working memory. Too many steps, and the later ones get dropped. The accommodation is decomposition: break it down until each piece fits.
The failure mode with adults is triggering resistance. Adults resist instruction that feels patronizing or that contradicts their existing expertise. The accommodation is respect for prior knowledge: connect the new concept to something they already know, let them discover the gap between what they thought they knew and what the material reveals.
I taught an intro to graphic design course at Kingsborough Community College for a semester after leaving USA Tees. The students were adults with their own aesthetics, their own opinions about what looked good. You can’t hand an adult a graphic organizer that says “put your heading here, put your body text here.” You can show them why the Swiss grid works by showing them what happens when you remove it. The structure becomes visible through its absence.
When I build instruction for AI systems, I’m in a third room. The model has no prior knowledge to respect and no working memory to protect. It has a context window and attention degradation and sensitivity to ordering effects. The scaffolding for a model is structural (coordinator patterns, decomposed prompts, independent evaluation dimensions) and the attunement is toward processing constraints, not emotional ones.
Three rooms. Three processing profiles. Same diagnostic question: what does the system receiving this instruction actually need from me for the instruction to land? The kid needs single steps. The adult needs rationale. The model needs decomposed tasks. The attunement that reads which room you’re in and adjusts the scaffolding accordingly is the skill that transfers across all three.