Think Like a Teacher

We have all been there. You are in a session with teaching peers, learning (or teaching or collaborating) about a new way to envision learning and the many tools that can put learning in the hands of the students. Two of the others in the session clearly do not “buy in.” YOU are excited about the possibilities of the topic at hand, but you are aware of the “back-channel” that is going on between your less-positive peers. They are not rude, just disengaged. They are very subtle. You may be the only one in the room (real or virtual) who is even aware of their behavior.

As one who feels strongly that teachers take too much bashing from the media and the general public, I HATE being in this situation. I watch my “peers” embarrassing the teaching profession as a whole, not by being blatantly rude, but by passive-aggressively avoiding really good stuff: the real red meat of learning, right here on a platter in front of them. They are so busy (figuratively) criticizing the outfit the server is wearing that they cannot savor the rich, new flavors on the menu of learning.

I am frustrated twice over: 1)  that their behavior might be cited as representative of All Teachers and 2) that they are missing such great ideas and palpable swell of enthusiasm among all the others in the room. I am incredulous, yet not. And I must decide: do I Retry engaging them in the conversation at hand by whatever means or do I Ignore their behavior and hope it will either go away or fade as they miraculously join in on their own? I am reminded of a similar decision I  faced as a first year teacher with a sixth grader who was partially off-task. The difference is that these are my PEERS. As a leader and peer, the choices are tough. I do not want to violate my peer role or the positive forces in the room by scolding. I really do not want to believe that these two are representative of the profession I respect.

Retry?…Ignore?

I have not answered this question. The one thing I will not do is Abort my efforts to both teach and learn among my teaching peers. So my options are Retry or Ignore. Your thoughts?

Water skiers know that the key to getting up on the water is making sure you do not have slack on the rope that pulls you. At least that’s what seems to work. I am no water skier, but I watch them every day this time of year. Once you allow the rope to slacken, you fall, causing uncomfortable things to happen with your bathing suit, skis, and the hard surface of the water. But some skiers have mastered a graceful way to let go of the rope, gliding gently down into the water in a planned drop-off. They decide to take some time off the rope entirely, perhaps hopping back in the boat, but better prepared to “get up” easily the next time without bruises and sore places from a slack-rope fall.

The problem with technology’s speed is that teachers (and indeed MOST of us), do not have a chance to do a graceful drop-off. We dare not risk slack. If we don’t hang on to that rope and maintain some kind of form, we suffer an unpredictable tumble. And  the technology boat seems to have a bottomless gas tank and possessed driver.

There are times when I am flying behind the technology boat, carefully navigating new wakes (like a new computer 24 hours before a major meeting!) when I just want to let go, ease back down into the waves and float a bit. I believe all of us need permission to let go of the rope. The consequence may be that we do not progress as quickly to working on a single ski or a more advanced challenge, but it is worth it. We need to recognize that none of us is going to ever master all the new waves of technology, and we deserve some grace in our decisions. It is OK to decide not to ski into that wake, turn around that cove, or face that wind. There will be another soon. Even though the technology boat continues on its course, the waves in the water dissipate. So it is OK to ignore some of them. What is important is that my decision is not to risk slack on a rope I have chosen to grasp. My rope-release must be consciously done to avoid a painful smackdown.

Today’s waves I do not choose to navigate on the rope: my Google Reader’s 3000+ items since before NECC (and before computer crash). I think a graceful “Mark all as read” is in order.

Bobbing here in the water feels great.

This is the third day of NECC, and I haven’t even been to my blog. This year the conference has been a Tweetfest…people discovering the power of sitting in sessions “tweeting” out commentary, feedback, arguments, links, and tweetlogs of the session proceedings to other in the room, elsewhere, and nowhere. I am waiting for another session to start as I begin this post, and I have joined the #necc09 tweeters off and on, therefore have not “blogged” more about the sessions.

And those of you not here ask, “who cares?” I tell you about this as another example of the swimmers’ obligation.

My BreakNECC tweeting has been another opportunity for the swimmers to give swimming lessons to others. A novice backchanneler myself, I helped three people install and configure Tweetdeck (“Here, just hold onto the side and kick…get a feel for the water.”). I watched the tweets going by and adjusted my technique—watching those swimmers more expert than I. Will I stay in this pool? I’m not sure, but I certainly am glad I jumped in and found the feel of the water. I just tweeted out a request for a recommendation of a good plug in for WordPress MU (the program that makes this blog run), so I can share mytweets automatically in the sidebar. Stay tuned for the results. If you want swimming lessons, I can probably get you to Red Cross Beginner Tweeter level. I’ll have to find out if there is a patch for that. (The Red Cross used to be big on patches, but I date myself here).