Think Like a Teacher

I know you. I have known you since you were 7 (or 8 or 10). You can act like an idiot, dress like a hooker, talk like a sailor, and saunter through these school halls flexing your freshly-sprouted muscles, but I knew you when you sat on the floor for story time and whispered in my ear that there really is no Santa Claus.

I am excited for you. I see you questioning who you are and trying out new identities. I see you beginning to dream of a world beyond school. You ask me questions about that world that I cannot answer, but we can explore them together. As long as we who pretend to control your life make our classes seem relevant to that world, you humor us by participating. Occasionally, you let us see that you actually like learning.

Does it matter that I knew you before grade 6? It helps. Could a teacher new to you know you as well? Probably. Does the very act of transition to this middle school  threaten your progress just by removing you from the K-5 learning home where you sat on the floor?  There is a study that says it hurts your academic progress to move to this middle school instead of remaining in the same building where you abandoned Santa Claus. I am fortunate that my job as teacher of gifted spans grades 2-8 in several buildings. So I know you, no matter which grades are in the building around us.

I would argue that it is relationship that defines your learning experience. You need someone who knows you. You need someone who knows that today’s cocktail party outfit is just a trial balloon of your sexuality (and who will tell you when it is not appropriate for school). On the inside, you are still the person who pretended to be a cat for the class play and who likes to read Shel Silverstein poems. You are also the mathematician who showed me a different way to solve that word problem and the computer geek who figured out html as a hobby.

You are the lucky one. You achieve because you have adults who know you and notice you. You have history with us. Your parents who know us, too. No matter how much the experts study and mine the data about you and your classmates, I know you. I cannot wait to see what you become long after our time together here.

If  our students are the digital natives, and policymaking powerful are the arriving settlers in the New Digital World,  what kind of feast are we celebrating this Thanksgiving?

After a long year (or decade) of trying to understand each other and make peace about what learning really is, are we finally sitting around the same table to celebrate a bountiful harvest? As some spokespeople from the Old World seem to be wavering about  using exclusively test-driven methods, we see signs that some have come to appreciate alternate ways of harvesting learning. The corn of this New Digital World is the creating/sharing web. Look at the bountiful spread on the table this Thanksgiving. We truly have much to give thanks for:

• Free tools for teachers and students. Beyond the freemium munchies, we actually have heaping servings of wikispaces and Edmodo and so many dishes we cannot fit them on the table, some without advertising garnish.
• Mashed up potatoes of every kind. The Goo(d)gle Earth has brought forth quite a harvest.
• The centerpiece: A turkey we all agree IS a turkey and need not weigh and measure to tell that is ready. At least for today we can call it learning without measuring its precise statistics. Breathe in the aroma of learning.

Oh yes, the cranberry sauce: the teachers. Without cranberries, the feast lacks color and the catalyst to so many tastes.

May this feast continue and become a tradition. We would have reason to give thanks for a long time.

Where do the best ideas come from? Chinese leaders want to know. U.S. voters  and leaders could benefit from thinking about it, too.

In his post “Teaching Creativity: The Answers Aren’t in the Back of the Book,” Brian Cohen makes an articulate case for arts education and the lessons any student can learn from open ended, achingly prolonged thought that does not lead to a definite answer:

Figuring things out for yourself has a high value. Thinking is the best way to learn. But it’s painful and a lot of work, and lengthy uncertainty is uncomfortable.

His analysis of what students gain from arts programs is dead on: tolerance for ambiguity, willingness to allow a thinking to run beyond the first answer, willingness to risk — then throw away that first answer, recognition that some thought resolutions may be “ugly.” Key to his analysis is a distinction between “knowledge” and “understanding.” (Do I hear Bloom whispering in his ear?). But these lessons need not be reserved just for the arts teachers. All of us should advocate for ambiguity:

As teachers, we imply there are definite answers and that we possess them. Sometimes teachers play a kind of game in which they encourage students to guess the answer in the teacher’s head. It might be better played the other way around.

How often do we encourage ourselves to guess what is inside our students’ heads? How often do we coax students to share the random or strange rumblings that may occur there as we teachers ramble and assign? How often do we ask:

 What do YOU think?

It’s tough to resist the urge to steer students’ answers like cattle drivers funneling the herd into the chutes. Cattle inside fences are easier to manage measure. Besides, we have deadlines, right? As one of the comments on Cohen’s post points out,

we no longer have the luxury of time and uncertainty and having kids think for themselves

Maybe we should “occupy” our schools with our own signs. One benefit: thinking doesn’t cost anything.

This is a story of powerful teacher collaboration. It is the story of TeachersFirst. A comment by a colleague yesterday made me stop and think about what an amazing, living organism TeachersFirst really is, thanks to care and feeding of an amazing team of teachers. Teachersfirst may not be as sophisticated at the human body, but look what this team of teacher-leaders has wrought:

A database of  over 13,000 TEACHER-reviewed resources

Each review (example) begins with and passes under the eyes of at least three different teachers and includes title, creator, description, classroom use ideas from real, thinking teachers who know what it’s like in the jungle out there,  subjects, grades, tips to address the many safety/school policy concerns of web 2.0 tools, information on plug ins and media types, tags to connect to related resources. This is teacher-friendly information designed to help fellow teachers quickly find and use what other teachers recommend. This is collaboration.

Scores of teacher-tested units, lessons, and interactive “ready to go” activities, all TeachersFirst “exclusives”:

Each lesson, unit, or interactive piece, such as The Interactive Raven and Dates That Matter, is created by a classroom teacher (or two), often after that teacher tested, adapted, tweaked, improved, and  used the activity/lesson/unit for years in the classroom. These lessons work. If J.D. Power and Associates rated them, they’d rank #1 in reliability. Over half a million teachers and students used the Interactive Raven last month. The TeachersFirst organism thrives on sharing, just as humans thrive on social interaction.

Regenerating and growing, all the time:

Every week, these teachers collaborate to add 25-40 new reviewed resources. They select a dozen or more as “Featured Sites.” Our standards for what is a “feature” keeps rising as we collaborate in looking at all that the web has to offer,  filtering our excitement for that innovation through practical realities of the classroom and the needs of today’s students. Every week there is a new Brain Twister, Weekly Poll, Across the World Once a Week question,  TeachersFirst Update, editor’s blog post (here) by yours truly, and often a new Special Topics collection. Growing, growing. Every living organism continues growing.

Healing when we are sick or “break something”:

The Thinking Teachers know that wellness is important, including web site wellness. We have a trusted team of primary care and specialist geeks who listen as we describe symptoms and ailments. Even the nasty effects of predators attacking servers are held at bay. Fortunately, we heal quickly, usually within an hour. This organism is also fortunate to have guaranteed health care (funding) and nurturing from our generous, non-profit “parent,” The Source for Learning. (And we keep our healthcare costs under control!)

Surviving and thriving through adolescence:

TeachersFirst, age 13 and a half, recently passed through the challenges of adolescence as we matured to TeachersFirst 3.0 in summer, 2011. Like any middle schooler, we still allow vestiges of our childhood to show through occasionally, but we have  matured remarkably, thanks to the joint efforts of a team of Thinking Teachers from California to Florida, from Colorado to Australia. Teachersfirst 3.0 is a twenty-first century teen, strapping and strong. Like any young adult, we still need positive reinforcement and a few kind words to keep us going, so we relish the messages we receive through Twitter and “contact us” emails.

Our stem cells are teacher-leaders:

The DNA of TeachersFirst lies in its team of teacher leaders. Typing and cross-matching to infuse new content is careful and deliberate. It takes over 80 candidates to match a new member to our review team. But the shared DNA is that of Thinking Teachers, the ones you admire and listen to because they are willing to share and grow alongside their peers and their students.

Healthy and agile:

Like any healthy organism, TeachersFirst adapts. None of us knows what will be the next big thing in technology or the next mandate or pendulum swing in education. But the power of teacher collaboration that grew TeachersFirst is fit and prepared for whatever comes next — together:

Thinking Teachers  – Teaching Thinkers.

A sixth grader in rural Pennsylvania — we’ll call her Hayley — is excited to have an assignment she can do online. Her new social studies teacher has asked her group to create a multimedia presentation explaining the impact of steam power on the economics of 19th century Pennsylvania. The group has two class periods to work together in school and must find the remaining time outside of class. Hayley is one of the 28%*

A second grader in urban anywhere– we’ll call him Sam — needs practice with sight words and phonics sounds. His parents are learning English and are very eager for their son to do well in school. Sam is one of the 3%*

Neither Hayley nor Sam has Internet access at home except for Hayley’s family cell phone.  Their teachers are very understanding and offer an extra 15 minutes during recess and a half hour before or after school for them to use a computer in the classroom, lab,  or library. Sometimes Hayley can even work on her project using the family phone, though she finds it more fun to try texting. The local public library also has a computer for students to use. Problem solved, right?

Now fast forward two or three years.  Sam is in fifth grade, and Hayley is in high school. Their teachers have had extensive inservice and have enthusiastically adopted new teaching strategies. Finally, the world of teaching and learning has moved into the 21st century. Hayley’s high school is encouraging teachers to use collaborative online tools which it has subscribed to, and Sam’s elementary teachers are pressing all students to write on their blogs at least once a week. In a given week, Hayley must complete a group science project, an English blog post, and submit examples of algebra use in the real world. Total online time needed outside of class: at least 5 hours. Sam struggles to word process his longer language arts assignments and spends every recess indoors. The public library has reduced its evening hours to Thursdays only and is never open on Sundays. To make matters worse, the library is a ten mile drive from Hayley’s home and a long bus ride for Sam’s mom and her three other children.

Sam’s parents try to share their new cell phone, but Sam and his siblings compete for a few minutes here or there. The phone is also their family lifeline for their dad’s odd jobs. Sam’s school faculty is considering eliminating online assignments, since so many students lack access. Scheduling the computer time for so many creative ideas and reinforcement activities is too much of a burden on teachers, and there is no one else to help. Sam and his school may simply be “left behind.” Total population of elementary kids needing computer time: 200, times three kids per family… and we have a problem.

Hayley’s school must decide whether to shift back to paper/pencil tasks for all or to ration teachers’ online assignments. There simply are not enough places for so many disconnected students to complete connected assignments. And the cable and phone companies have no plans to expand coverage in such a thinly populated rural area where there is no chance to make a profit. Total disconnected population of 250 times 5 hours each = 1250 needed hours of computer time per week.

Sam and Hayley are individual examples of a massive chasm forming beneath the surface of 21st century learning.  The “haves”  schools (those with a small number of disconnected students) move forward in technology adoption, professional development, and effective use of the tools for learning. The “have nots” (those with many disconnecteds and/or many assignments times fewer disconnecteds) are trying to keep up. Even if successful teacher PD wins over the rural teachers, the students of the “have not” schools are still doomed by their local infrastructure.

Small problems grow. Cracks get bigger. Is anyone watching the chasm beneath the feet of our best efforts?

* related info from T.H.E. Journal http://www.nxtbook.com/nxtbooks/1105/journal_201110/#/22/OnePage :