A New Project: Learning Through Stories
Today I’m inaugurating a new project on the Brilliant Blog: Learning Through Stories. A lot of scientific research—and our own experience—demonstrates that we understand and remember material best when it’s presented to us as a narrative, or when we tell our own story about it. So: Once a week, I’ll be inviting you to share your stories of where and when and how you learned something in particular. And I’ll be asking you to do one additional, perhaps challenging thing that is nevertheless the key to the exercise: to draw out a generalizable lesson from your story that could apply to the learning of other things, and could be used by people other than yourself.
The question this week is: “How did you learn to ride a bike?” Please write your answer below, and try to include as many details about when, where, and how it happened, as well as what lesson you can draw from it. I’ll start:
I learned to ride a bike when I was about six or seven years old, on a heavy blue Schwinn bicycle (bicycles are so much lighter now!), on the quiet streets of my Dad’s hometown in Massillon, Ohio. What I remember best is the scary thrill of being pushed along by my father until he let go, and I was going, flying, riding on my own. (Then I forgot how to brake and tried to stop by dragging my feet on the ground, but that’s another story. Call it “How I Learned To Stop A Bike.”)
The lesson I draw from my experience learning to ride a bike is that it’s really true that we learn best from those we love. Would I have felt as secure, as confident (even though scared) in my ability to ride a bike if it weren’t my father there running along beside me? And there’s a lesson here, too, for teaching: You need to run alongside the learner for a while, but then you need to let go.
OK, your turn! How did you learn to ride a bike?
Rather than telling my experience learning to ride, I’d like to share a fairly recent experience teaching a friend to ride her bike.
My friend Nicole grew up in St. Thomas. According to her, bike riding isn’t as common of an activity for kids there as it is here. This meant that at the age of 28, she had never learned how to ride a bike!
When it casually came up in conversation that she didn’t know how to ride, I immediately took the opportunity to challenge her to learn. At first, I think she thought that I just wanted to watch her embarrass herself, but she quickly realized that I was truly interested in helping her to accomplish this feat – she just didn’t know why. To be honest, I didn’t know exactly why I took this interest – I just knew I was interested, but I was about to learn why.
In order to make sure that she wasn’t going to be the only one hitting the ground, I told her I would learn something new too. For years, I had a small interest in learning to ride a unicycle. Why? Because I like to do things that most people don’t do. I love having unique experiences that keep people guessing about what I might do next.
I began asking myself, why do I have a habit of pushing people to try new things? I’ve always thought that it was just fun to challenge people and to see them succeed, but that wasn’t it. I thought back to many other situations where I had done this and a common event occurred each time – I took on a challenge myself to encourage them to take on theirs. And there it was, I do it because I love to be challenged and when I challenge others I challenge myself.
Learning what motivates us is important – even if it just leads to learning to ride a unicycle.
For the record, Nicole learned how to ride her bike in just a couple of hours with only a couple minor spills. It took me a little longer to get the hang of the unicycle and I had a few more bumps and bruises, but I did it too.
From Alice Lombardo Maher, on Facebook:
I was in the fifth grade and I went to the park with my mother and my brand new grownup bike. Mom had had fertility problems and a miscarriage leaving me an only child, and she was enormously overprotective. She held on to the back of the bike for dear life, struggling to steady it for me so I wouldn’t fall. That made me even more anxious and clumsy. I was frustrated, confronted with the equally bad choice between of aborting the attempt, continuing the useless efforts, or getting mad at her and feeling guilty and incompetent. Eventually I solved the problem by taking a deep breath, saying a prayer, and stepping hard on the pedals. It felt wonderful to ride away from her feeling proud and competent. I made a full loop around the park, and never once fell. It’s the story that defines my life. Thank you so much for asking it. You made my weekend.
From Wendy Alfaro, on Facebook:
Annie, this is wonderful. When I starting to read your post, I thought about my bicycle experience too (before reading your own story). My father also was my mentor, teacher and companion when I was learning to ride my bike. When I was 5-6 years old, he bought me a pink little bike. At first I was using the bicycle with auxiliary back wheels but one Sunday, my father decided to remove them. Then we rode to a hill and he told me to just ride down the hill. I did not want to do it, so he decided to push myself to do it. After that I was flying down the hill on my own. That was a wonderful feeling. For me the lesson: as a girl and sometimes through my older years I needed that little push on my shoulder to accomplish a fearful goal.
From Carol Furchner, on Facebook:
My story is so similar to yours, Annie! I was about 5, and I’d gotten very comfortable with training wheels, so much so that I kept trying to go too fast and had fallen over a couple of times. My dad removed them, but I was too scared of falling again to ride on my own, so he held the seat and ran along side me… and then he wasn’t there. I kept going. I was just so delighted and excited that I’d ridden on my own that I kept riding and riding up and down our street for more than an hour. The lessons are similar to yours, too: You can give confidence by running alongside a new learner, and you need to know when to let go. And one more: “training wheels” can be a big help at first, but eventually they become an impediment.
Best way for kids to learn to ride a bike:
No training wheels, no pedals.
They push themselves along so they can move, learn balance and catch themselves easily if they begin to fall.
When they can balance ‘long enough’, have them practise going down grassy hills-gentle slope, not grassy ski hills.
Next, put the pedals on & they continue practising on the gently slope.
They must practise steering & braking in a variety of ways.
When confident, they’re ready for ‘the road’.
2-3 days and they’re ready…all without dad having to get a coronary or curved spine from running alongside them.
If I can remember correctly, I was around 5 or 6 and my father gifted me a bike when I was in India. I think the brand was called ‘Atlas Bicycles’. The terrain where we used to live was plain with a lot of construction going around where we lived. Soon then we were visited by my elder cousin. She took upon herself to teach me how to ride a bike. We went to a park nearby and she told me the basics -”here are the brakes. You clutch them when you want to stop or slow down. When you want to slow down, clutch the left one that slows the rear tyre and doesn’t make you fall down. Don’t press the right one alone.” Then she told me she will hold the bike from the back and I should start pedalling. I had a hard time keeping the tyre straight because I wasn’t able to maintain speed because of trust issues. Just like the case where you need a credit card for a credit score and a credit score for a credit card, I wasn’t able to speed up to maintain balance. she gave a push and started running and assured me she was holding me all the time. It went a little smoothly then. I fell down a couple of times but it wasn’t bad. SHe picked me up and we started again. Once she thought the moment had come to come clean and say that she wasn’t holding me, she came beside me running, and I panicked and fell down. Knowing this doesn’t work, she tried by just telling from behind she is not holding me anymore but is touching the bike just enough to save me from falling. I think that helped me a lot. And there it was, I could ride.
Malek Houlihan, on Facebook:
I learned to ride a bike the day my training wheels broke. I just looked down and those two things were bent up like airplane wings. I was totally shocked! Who knows how long I was riding without them but my learning process wasn’t complete until I realized that I had learned. Ever since that day I’m always trying to discover what I’ve already learned.
It took me forever to learn to ride the bike and I’m not sure why; the combination of being an anxious and gawky child with a somewhat overprotective mother did not help. I probably was riding around age 10 or 11.
I’ve been working this summer with my almost five year old son on riding his bike. Several years ago we got him a balance bike and he was terrific on it, able to balance for 10-15 seconds at a time without breaking a sweat.
Last winter (age 3.5) we got him a bike with training wheels. In retrospect, he was ready to just go on it without the training wheels. But I blinked, and left them on, and he got used to them.
A month or two ago he actually rode his bike with pedals and no training wheels on his own. Afterwards, he was really upset, saying that “he might have fallen” although he didn’t. (As a former English major, I still can’t tell you what tense that is. Some sort of subjunctive). Since then he has been really tentative. I’ve removed his his training wheels and the pedals on his bike and he is getting his confidence back.
I think that the challenge is that at age 4 he evolved the ability to have more abstract thinking; with this comes more abstract fears. At age 3 he could not worry about what might happen so he was freestyling on his bike without care. At age 4 his ability to worry about what might happen can be a barrier to tasks like bike riding (or swimming, for that matter). As a pediatrician and a dad, it’s been interesting to follow this process.
Peter Kaufman, on Facebook:
I had some success but it wasn’t easy to get it going fast enough to reach the point where it was quite simple to control. Next I decided I’d best learn how to sit on the bike with my feet on the pedals, not moving at all, but trying to keep the bike upright. I started with one foot on a peddle and another with the toes on the ground until I felt there was enough balance to put the second foot on the pedal. It was funny, but I got quite good at it and could sit on the bike while it was stationary for a while. Eventually my father noticed what I was doing and decided he should provide some input. So, he told me to peddle and that he would hold the back of the bicycle to keep me steady. I began peddling hard and got up some decent speed quickly, looked back, and my father was where he’d been when he said he’d hold the bike. I wasn’t sure if I should be disappointed since I wasn’t sure how much or when deceptions might occur and whether they’d be for good. But he had such a big smile, I forgot about it and went racing away blowing at the air 
I had an ancient massive tricycle at age 2. It was quite peculiar looking but I liked it because it was solid and rugged, and Big. Around 7 1/2 I was given a bicycle. I was a bit concerned because unlike most bikes I’d seen for new riders had training wheels. It became quickly apparent that it was far easier to control the bicycle if it was in motion. So, I started by getting on the bike and trying to get it moving with my tippy toes
My brother, now dead, said he would hold the bike while I pedaled. I pedaled, and he wasn’t holding the bike. I knew how to stop, but I “forgot” how and ran straight into the tail light of a neighbor’s car. Broke the light. My parents paid for the light.
But I had learned how to balance and pedal. I rode a bike for many years, even buying a high quality 10-speed in college, which I found difficult to ride later in grad school. I gave it to the boy friend of my ex-girl friend.
My wife and I thought about teaching our two boys to ride, but suburbia is too populated by cars. Bike riding has not been passed on to our children.
What a lovely question…. I think most of us have learned to ride a bike at some point in our lives…one of those share experiences….
I learned to ride a bike in our neighborhood on a sunny afternoon when I was 4 or 5. I remember this sudden desire to be able to do this so I could follow my sister around. There was a lot of trying over and over and over again. I needed some help from my farther at some point. He kept the bike straight so I could experience the required balance (and speed) needed to move forward. Getting started was the trickiest part and I used a big rock (to put one foot on) before pushing the pedals.
I think this shows that learning is about becoming personally involved. We learn best when we are motivated and engaged and supported by ‘experts’ along the way. We learn by doing and finding our own path in taking risks and feeling comfortable at the same time.
I have skimpy memories of my first bicycel learning experience, but the story challenge made me realize that learning to ride a bike had a second round. When I decided to return to bike riding as an adult I had to learn a whole new round of skills and information. I had to figure out the peddle systems. Should I wear a special snap-on peddle system, or just slide my regular shoes into clips? These and other questions forced me into all kinds of interesting conversations with bicycle experts and friends who were a step ahead, and as usual, showed me the value of mentors. And on a road bike, I had to learn a slew of micro-skills like how to lean forward on my hands, in a sustainable way for hours, and also techniques for stamina, like how much water to drink and how to carry snacks. There was even a new round of clothing to buy, high tech fabrics that wicked sweat. This was in the 80s and was I believe my first exposure to fabrics that wick sweat. So in retrospect, the whole second round of bike riding taught me that you can build a huge variety of micro-skills on top of the skill you thought you already knew.
Jerry
Memory Writers Network
Hi
I vaguely remember my bike riding experience. Just recall I needed the curb to get on and off bike as it was too big for me. However, recently taught one of my grandsons to ride and I agree having trust in the person holding onto the bike and running alongside is important. We did raise the training wheels too to the point we figured he could ride and then with some practice runs, and lots of encouragement, he was on top of the world as a new bike rider. Now onto learning to swim and then ice skate.
I learned how to ride a bike many, many years ago in Milwaukee, WI, where I was born. My father, who is very patient, taught his three children how to ride a bike. We lived on an alley and had pretty nice privacy so he could spend hours helping us on and off and steadying the bike as we learned to balance ourselves. I don’t think it took me very long to learn, and when I did I was off and riding. My friends in our neighborhood would congregate every afternoon and we would ride to Lyons Park, a few blocks from our house. It was a great place to ride and play. My first big bike was a purple, Schwinn 10-speed. It was a fabulous bike, one that I treasured, cleaned and keep in great working order. I remember going to Jackson Park to swim one hot morning with friends and riding our bikes. It was a great outing except when I came out from swimming to find my bike had been stolen. I was devastated. We filed a police report but I never saw the bike again. I know I got new bike at some point and continued to ride for many years to come.
I did take some long bike trips in my mid-30s and have always enjoyed being on the road on a bike. I would attribute my love for biking to my father’s patience in helping me learn the skills when I was young.
Maybe it is something about approaching 50 and being a parent, but as years go by, my memories of childhood are primarily about experiences that involved raising my children.
I don’t have a specific story or memory of how I learned to ride a bike, but I do have two distinct memories of teaching my children.
When I taught my oldest son we went to a large municipal/commuter parking lot on a weekend when it was empty. We walked to one end of the lot and he would have plenty of room to ride. We crossed the lot together several times and each ride my son made was longer and longer. Before starting our final return trip I pointed out to my son a street light in the middle of the parking lot that came out of a concrete base and advised him to steer clear of the hazard. He started his ride and the farther away from me he rode the closer to the light he got. I yelled to steer clear but he seemed to be drawn towards the light and was heading straight for it. He did in fact ride across half the parking lot on his own and straight into the base of the light. When I got over to him and asked didn’t he see the light pole and hear my warnings, he replied, “I was trying to go around it but it got in my way”
The lesson from this story is when trying to achieve a goal, don’t dwell or focus too much on potential obstacles in your path or you may unconsciously be drawn closer to the hazards similar to the effect of a self-fulfilling prophecy.
When it came time to teach my daughter she had heard from my son about the miraculous moving street light that gets in your way and wanted to learn to ride in a local park. We found a section of sidewalk in the park that was not very busy and prepared to begin the lesson. However my daughter insisted we use the grass to learn to ride rather than the concrete path because it would be much less painful if she fell. I tried to explain that a smooth sidewalk is the best surface for learning to ride a bike and it would be much easier to balance and peddle on. We proceeded to practice riding on the grass and she had to peddle harder and continually lost her balance on the uneven and bumpy grass. I don’t believe this first lesson lasted very long, but in my memory it seemed like forever. I do recall recruiting her brother to assist me for the subsequent lessons and we did eventually convince her to learn on pavement.
The lesson from this story is the process of learning does include some “pain” and often requires a willingness to go outside your “comfort zone”. Trying to avoid this discomfort will only delay learning and actually increase the amount of time it takes to achieve your goal.
I learnt to ride a bike when I was about 7 years old, with a purple raleigh first in our compound and then on the street. My parents were busy people so there was no one to run by my side although i had those 2 smaller side wheels. I remember that the side wheels got bad and i had to ride without them and overcome the fear of falling down.
I fell down a couple of times and stood up again and realized it wasn’t so bad.
The lesson from my story is that when learning, you may have to overcome so fear and there may be some pain which u will eventually overcome.
One of the last memories I have of my father is of him, at age 74, getting on his nephews bicycle at my brothers house, and taking it for a spin. It’s not just a memory of him, but a memory of him smiling, looking determined, and feeling free. You see, he died of colon cancer, and so he had spent a lot of time sitting and not moving and trying not to focus on, well, his seat area, because of the pain of his disease. My dad was a vision of sturdyness all our lives, though, and this day was no exception. We have pictures of him picking up the bike, pushing off, and riding up and down the street in front of my brother’s house, smiling, stern faced, or relaxed. Then he comes up into the yard and stops, and joins in the other activities everybody seemed to be doing in the yard with one another that day.
He taught me to ride. He bought us bicycles on repeated Christmases. I remember waking in the night to see “Santa” putting my bike together. It was a black and gold Huffy dirt bike, but not my first. My first was a red and white bike with a banana seat, and I think it had those plastic strings hanging from the handle grips, that were popular in the early 1970s. Furthermore, I remember him teaching my brothers and sisters how to help me. That’s what he did: he modeled how to be, how to help, and how to engage.
A final bike memory I have is of my father tracking down my brother’s bike that had been stolen from the closet that was sort of outside of our house. He and I were the only ones home when he discovered it missing, and he set out to go search for it immediately. I was too young to be left home alone. We drove a few blocks, and when my dad saw a group of boys on bikes outside a local convenience store, he and I also recognized the missing (stolen) bike. I was scared. Dad was determined. He parked the car, walked to the boy (who froze), said something, then just took the bike. I took it as him being determined not to let his hard earned money for our Christmas gifts be squandered because a thief saw the outdoor closet open. Dad put the bike in the car, and off to home we went. I was so proud of him. There was right and there was wrong, and stealing was wrong; also, like I said, money was hard to come by, and my dad did whatever it took to provide the necessities plus the few extras like bikes. He made sure we all (sister, too) learned to ride, and to drive.
Thanks for inspiring me to reminisce this way about my resilient father who loved life.
I learned how to ride my bike when I quite young – 4 or 5 years old. The only reason I know how old I was is because we moved to a new house before I went to the first grade at age 6. I have three strong memories about learning: 1) My father taught me to ride my bike. 2) My father took off one training wheel at first for me to practice. 3) The first time he let go of me without training wheels, I was going down a slight incline. I started to panic and could remember how to break, so I just crashed it onto a neighbors lawn. I ended up with scrapes, bumps, and bruises, but I wasn’t afraid to get back on. In fact, I wanted to keep trying until I got it right…I didn’t really worry about getting hurt again. I think that comes with age. I think the lesson is that it is clearly good to be thoughtful before doing, but don’t let fear stop you from doing what you want to do.
I am 23 years old and learnt to ride a bike for the first time earlier this year. As a child I was always too scared to learn, far too afraid that I would hurt myself, so after the first fall I gave up.
Becoming an adult I realised that I actually had an anxiety disorder which prevented me from doing anything too risky or scary when I was a kid, and translated into other fears as an adult. Learning to cope with it I made a decision not to ever let my fears and anxiety stop me from having great experiences. I knew that I had missed out on a huge part of my childhood and part of my process meant that I needed to learn to ride a bike.
My dad was excited at the prospect of finally being able to teach me, even though I was about 18 years late! He did not run beside me, or push me and let go, he let me learn to balance on my own. I used my feet as brakes and only when I was comfortable did I use the pedals. He gave me the guidance to do it all on my own. I learnt in about 2 hours and did not fall once.
I learnt two valuable lessons about myself.
1. It is never too late to right the mistakes you have made in your life
2. I learn things best when I’m able to do it on my own without the pressure of another person. Give me a little guidance and I will soar far higher than if spoonfed.
I’m a little late to the party for this question, but I think my story has some different lessons than the great ones I’ve read from others.
This question really threw me because I absolutely can’t remember ever NOT being able to ride a bike or how I learned to ride one. This surprised me, as biking has been a major part of my life. I rode everywhere as a kid, and a bike was my ONLY form of transportation for many, many years as an adult in Boston.
All I can assume is that being unable to bike was an unthinkable option for me as a very young kid based on my neighborhood in surburban Connecticut. You HAD to bike to have friends, to have fun, to go on adventures. It was essential.
Ironically, though, my daughter only learned to ride a bike last summer… at the age of almost 15! Living a block from the subway to Boston, being able to walk to all of her friends’ houses within ten minutes… What was the point of learning? That only changed when a friend of hers insisted on teaching her last year… so they could do cool stuff that was hard to do otherwise.
Lessons:
1. When your perception is that everything to gain by learning a skill and a lot to lose by not learning it, you’re well on your way to the motivation that will lead to early mastery.
2. Our motivation to learn a skill depends so much on whether or not the pain of NOT learning it will affect us socially, psychologically, and developmentally.
When I started learning how to bike, it was a common knowledge then (and I think until now) that you need to fall a couple of times and bruises were normal. I refused to believe that. But all my siblings, cousins, relatives, and friends believe in that. I want to prove that I can learn without falling. Then my eldest sister shared an advise that was quite astonishing during that time (at least for me) because it defies the conventional wisdom. She told me to steer the bike towards the direction where I am supposed to fall. And so I did. And it was history. I learned how to ride a bike without falling ever or getting any bruises.
The lesson I learned is when people tell you that you can’t do it, you have to listen first, then prove them wrong second. I also discovered there’s a key in every lesson. Find the key and you’ll learn quickly.