Think Like a Teacher

I promise to get off the NECC discussion- apologies to those who are sick of hearing about it.

I have been back from NECC for two weeks, and I am sifting through so many possibilities and ideas. I have wandered down many paths of links and discussions, finding blog posts from some who carried inspiration home with their tired feet and some who left feeling hollow. The consistent message from all is a passion for changing the entity we know as “education.” Everyone seems to sense that we are inside a cloud of change but none of us has the ability to see beyond it.

Analogy of the day (if you read me often, you know I talk in analogies): I live on a lake where the morning light often brings a heavy, inscrutable mist over the water. Even though there is fresh daylight reflecting off each water vapor droplet, we cannot see even as far as the end of the dock. Despite expanding light, we cannot see. Occasionally an intrepid kayaker will venture through the mist on a true voyage of discovery. If he finds another, they talk from deep within the mist, and their voices carry much farther than they realize — yet lack defined location. Under such dense cover, they can sneak up on anyone, anytime: guerrillas, seeking.

As educators create global collaboratives, web 2.0 networks for learning, and blogs about all of it, we are guerrillas in a very heavy mist. We have no idea when we will be able to see beyond the brilliantly reflective vapor droplets:  the many current projects and moments of new learning. Kern Greenwood Henke interviewed NECC participants  (and more) to ask them what will be there when my figurative mist burns off: “what does the future of learning look like?” I question whether any lone kayaker — or even the entire kayaking club with voices reverberating across the water — really knows.

Where will changes in the electronic media and changes in education finally go? I have guesses, but right now I am enjoying the brilliantly misty morning.

Pearson and CoSN published a video on YouTube and elsewhere: “Learning to Change/Changing to Learn,” all about 21st Century learning and reimaging what education is.  I always have my suspicions about any commercial entity (especially one as HUGE as Pearson) publishing such a a video — and the inevitable product launch likely to follow).  I have to say, however,  that I love the words Stephen Heppel of the UK uses to describe students who use the tools of collaboration, synthesis, problem-solving, validation, etc. to LEARN, not memorize or capture a stream of facts. He calls them “ingenious, collaborative, gregarious, brave children”[my emphasis].

When I think about the willingness to accept uncertainty, to manipulate information that slips through the fingers like glycerin, to be wrong and keep on going, to proffer shared ownership in ideas, all of these ARE brave characteristics. Perhaps the new character education is about being learning-brave. This would make all the adults who “figure stuff out” using the web as  much brave students as the younger ones who do so in a formal setting or at home at night when “school” is over. What we need as more “brave” learners and more hero-worship of  that bravery instead of building fortifications of certainty and standards.

True learning IS brave. So eat your intellectual wheaties and build some bravery. This “land of the brave” is world-wide and moving fast. I know I need to keep up my strength, too, but I am very excited to see where we go — in even another year.

I am following up on my previous post about TagUrIt, my mythical tool to pull all outside feedback and response into a single place for a learner to synthesize feedback received from all products and projects, no matter what the medium. Lifestream apparently does this. (I have a vague memory of reading about Lifestream a couple of months ago….so my “dream” tool in the previous post may really have been a figment of foggy memory.) Once again, somebody already thought of my great idea. I wonder if it can pull a feed from tagged email, as well. For a TRULY one-stop shop, I’d want to be able to include feedback emails, too.

 Of course, I don’t see Lifestream rushing to market themselves as a tool for education or personal learning network/professional development. If they are interested in a powerful use of their tool, they should talk to our team at the TeachersFirst Edge. We know how to learn from web2.0 play: bridging the gap from web2.0 into learning. I guess there’s a better market in building customers’ egos or helping them track their social web presence than there is in making webworld a wide-open classroom. Or maybe they never thought of it?

Thank goodness for teachers (like those on our Edge team and the earlyadoptereducators who hang out in places like Twitter) who see the freebies and find amazing power in applying them in new ways. I can’t wait to see them all at NECC where the bloggers cafe and laptop users seated on the floor in public spaces are always abuzz with new toys. It’s hyperstimulation of the highest order: Thoughtstream.

I spent the morning sorting through old emails for pull-quotes to use on some promotional materials, and the process brought on a surge of reflection. I have been in this job since 2006 and have always kept a “teachers out there” folder within my email for messages that tell me good and bad about how TeachersFirst is doing. I even have subfolders for mail from college faculty users or those who comment on the Interactive Raven. I make folders as a reference system to find emails later , but I had no idea of their impact as a tool for reflection. Bear with me as I muse on…

Imagine if every student had an email account (yes, I know…. archiving, server space, bullying, etc…everyone has a reason NOT to provide these). Imagine if they could file emails from peers and teachers all year as a way to sort out reactions to major projects (like my Interactive Raven folder), comments from outsiders (like my webmaster email or “teachers out there” folders), and feedback from specific professionals (like my college faculty folder). Then when the time came to “pull quotes” (verb, not noun) to share as part of an end-of year reflection, each student could read back through and see progress, consensus and even direction. A new personally-organized learning network.

Taking it further: Maybe students don’t need email to do this. After all, so much of their input likely comes in the form of web 2.0 “comments” and can be sorted by “tags.” Perhaps what they (we) need  for School (or Work) 2.0 is a tool that allows us to organize responses to ANY and all media we create (email, wiki, blog post, dig pix, online comic strip, YouTube video, podcast, or cute web2.0 doo-dad) in a single location by tag or “folder.” Suddenly we have “Response Central,” a place to see trends among very diverse products and to allow meta-analysis of our own strengths and needs for improvement. If EVERY tool provided RSS feeds for comments, that would be one way to do it: by tagging the responses within the reader using a consistent system.  We could have our personal RSS (Response Sorting System) Reader. Not every tool provides RSS for responses or comments, though. Many do.

I wonder if anyone has ever done this. Of course, setting up the tagging system could be the kicker. The first few times we did it, we’d discover that some tags did not “work” over time. But the second year would be a lot easier. We could make New Years Day the unofficial tag reorganization day as we watch parades and football…but I am getting carried away.

So there’s a skill to add to School 2.0/Work 2.0 so we can reflect on all those marvelous comments and actually learn from them. Anybody have a cute name for it yet? (TagUrIt?) I am sure some developer is working on it.

Last Friday I spent the day at a conference in Princeton on Children and Electronic Media: Teaching in the Technological Age. There were presentations on current research concerning the impact of electronic media on children and youth, innovative uses of technology in classrooms, and professional development using electronic media (synchronous and asynchronous). The presenters were all recognized voices; many in the auditorium were also recognized “eyes and ears,” as well as practitioners. Kevin Jarrett, one of the presenters and “Mr.  Second Life” of education [my nickname], blogged the event today, and his reverence for the minds in the room is quite appropriate. It was an energizing gathering — one that seems destined to echo in orange.

I spent a good part of the weekend letting the conference incubate in my head. The issues of implementing teacher professional development in rigorous, differentiated, yet supportive and respectful formats are so critical to the future success of our students, and there is simply SO much for so many to learn, and never “be done.” The ProfDev concerns I have been mulling:

1. Time. How can we streamline the start-up and personalization of PD in a one-size-fits-all mindset? So many administrations simply want “all staff” to “complete” this or that Prof Dev “training,” whether it is on special ed procedures, a new language arts program, or –oh yeah– we have to do the technology stuff (Why so many do technology “training” in isolation is a major issue, as well!)

2. Respect and expect. How do we shift to a  model that allows differentiation hand in hand with rigor: respect where teachers say they are (“I need to learn more about teaching xxx in a project-based approach but am also nervous about doing anything with technology”) yet expect them to step outside of their comfort zones with respectful support and encouragement. Without both, you waste your money and their time. With both, change can actually happen.

3. Hanging together. In a standard, hierarchical arrangement of admin and teachers, there may well be administrators placed in the position of evaluating and approving personalized Prof Dev plans who know the topics no better than the novice participants. Shouldn’t they simply do it together as part of the cohort,  just as we would like students and teacher to be able to work together as learners? What better way to model a new way of “building learners”?

4. Real life. Different teachers have varying degrees of “free” time. There are stages of life when doing anything after 4 or 5 pm is extremely difficult for a teacher: infant at home, aging or dying parents, carpools and coaching for their own kids, moonlighting jobs to pay kids’ tuition, and innumerable other pressures spread and stress so many teachers. This is where the asynchronous options actually make a difference, assuming the 3 concerns above have been resolved wisely. Kevin says

Who has time for PD? We all do. It’s a matter of deciding what’s important. When you’re personally vested in the process, somehow, it gets done!

It’s the “personally vested” part that is tough to achieve in stressed people. We need to respect the limits of real life and expect progress without expecting the same level of expertise from all in the same time frame (NTLB?). If  life’s pressures are unreasonable, teachers will never be “vested.” Humans protect their own survival by fighting.

5. Making it meaningful. We are supposed to do this with our students and should expect that our own learning should be the same way. It is our own responsibility to be sure that our OWN prof dev is meaningful. If it isn’t, speak up and ask if you can adjust it (respectfully of course).

6. Vastness. We will never be “done.” We can’t even stay even. We can sift, sort, listen, and ask questions. David Brooks wrote Saturday about The Cognitive Age:

The central process driving this is not globalization. It’s the skills revolution. We’re moving into a more demanding cognitive age. In order to thrive, people are compelled to become better at absorbing, processing and combining information. [my italics]

Teachers need to not only do this absorbing, processing, and combining and with their own skills; they must do it well enough to teach it to tomorrow’s adults. The vastness of this task is huge.

Bright orange is the color of fire, of lively energy and hope, and of sunsets. I hope the fire from this conference will burn brightly as we who were there light some flames in others,  and avoid sunset.

I was away at a conference for several days over last weekend and early this week(LONG hours in the exhibit hall). But for the last two days I have been mulling over my plans for a pre-conference workshop for teachers at Pennsylvania Association for Gifted Education’s (PAGE) annual conference. Back in the days when I taught gifted (for over a dozen years), our group of teachers often talked about our role as “guide on the side” and on gifted ed’s propensity to try out new ideas before general ed and teacher ed picked them up. We were, many  times, a proving ground, and we pretty much exclusively taught using constructivist, project-based models. I was a “general contractor” on site as my classes built learning. The students did the heavy lifting, crafting everything from the actual foundations to the cabinetry trim of learning. I planned the schedule, made sure the materials were there, and gently but firmly redirected the process when it appeared that the structures might fail.

This week brings me a new chance to promote the model of teachers as general contractors: both at the PAGE workshop and in the announcement of a FREE cooperative pilot project from TeachersFirst and TRIntuition’s workBench: The Building Learners Project. (Actually, the logo image for this project was what got me started on the contractor analogy.) I could not be more pleased to see such opportunities for teachers to act as general contractors for the learning in their classrooms– even some learning of their own. Learning new tech toys/tools is part of being a good contractor, and it’s OK to figure them out along with the craftspeople on the job site. I am looking forward to getting my hands a little dirty, as well.

Recently, I have had several conversations with teachers and the TeachersFirst Educator Advisory Board about school Internet filtering. I even dreamed about it one night (ARRRGH!) Today I find that Teachers Teaching Teachers has a terrific (though long) podcast on Locating the Tyranny of Filtering, including interviews of several people who hold the reins on web filtering in  schools of various locations and sizes, even New York City schools. For a teacher who has no idea how sites magically “disappear,” the podcast gives an intermediate level explanation of how the technology works. It also provides a few examples of HOW teachers can request an “unblock” of a web site in some schools. One especially productive discussion occurs about 26-27 minutes into the discussion, addressing teacher perceptions and feelings about finding a resource blocked and the feeling of powerlessness that comes with this “hand slap.” Several bottom lines from the podcast:

1. Teachers balk at any barrier that adds bureaucratic steps to their day (see the principal to request an unblock).

2. Timeliness matters.

3. Teachers do not understand the technologies behind the filtering and may assume that sites that only work partially do so because they (the teachers) are doing something “wrong.” Voicethread, for example, may SHOW on the screen but not actually play the sound, all because of filtering settings.

4. More enlightened filtering models favor the judgment of actual educators over technology experts.

5. The philosophical issues behind filtering run long and deep (Do we limit students’ vision with blindfolds or teach them how to look critically and decide? Is filtering merely a substitute for classroom management?).

6. There has to be a PROCESS in place (thank you to this voice on the podcast–Lee Baber?).

7. Teachers leave workshops (or web sites, or new articles) having learned about web2.0 tools, only to find that these very tools are blocked.

8. The power to make decisions locally is quite legal and practicable. Teachers need to ask questions and ask for transparency in the processes. As the speakers put it, teachers need to “be brave.” That includes less tech-savvy teachers who are not entirely comfortable with computers as well as those who traditionally speak first and loudest.

TeachersFirst plans to follow up with this discussion, trying to help teachers:

• understand what is magically happening in the filter (in a 30 second explanation)
• be aware of the legal requirements and how far they do/do not go
• be able to share examples of filtering models that work for instruction
• know how to advocate positively for flexible, responsive filtering
• remove emotional reactions from the barrier-lowering process
• be able to access the terrific tools reviewed in the TeachersFirst Edge!

As always, we’ll try to make it quick, understandable, and practical. Watch for this discussion, coming SOON.

The last 24 hours in my email/RSS/real people world has brought reminders of difficult realities:

1. Web 2.0 tools die (or are left to suffer a slow death by weeds) as rapidly as the seasonal harvests of farmers.

2. Teachers are in a hot kitchen with far to many required recipes these days.

Compounding  this situation:

3. The most imaginative minds are generating exciting scenarios and fabulous examples of an entirely new way to cook up learning. Call it School 2.0: Nouvelle Cuisine for the Minds.

So how is the teacher (in #2) supposed to reconcile all this? Let me elaborate…

1. TeachersFirst Edge reviews web2.0 tools and suggests ways to use them safely and effectively in the classroom. We are, essentially, offering  the 20-minute recipes for the Nouvelle Cuisine for the Minds.  We visit the Farmer’s Market of web2.0, select the current cheap (free) ingredients available, and give teachers ideas for a quick family meal that brings new taste to their classroom and lets the kids get involved in the actual cooking.  The ongoing problem is that a farmer simply won’t appear one week. No one knows what happened to his produce. It simply went out of season or was left to die on the vine. Free web2.0 tools die. Fact of life. And the teachers and kids have no clue where to look for a substitute ingredient. Can you make a timeline out of another kind of fruit?

2. Meanwhile, the same teachers, and their 10,000 other colleagues who never even VISIT the Framers Market, are being told what to cook, how many minutes it should take, how to measure it (at least 3 times), conduct a scientific taste-test, and still turn out at least three dozen new dishes a day. The directions are explicit and the consequences of one dropped cupcake are dire.

3. The same teachers that were involved in #1 (and #2, since ALL must do the required recipes) read about those in #3 and simply want to cry. They long to approach Nouvelle Cuisine, but they do not have the time to look for replacement ingredients or even learn to read French.  They don’t Twitter, might blog, and have not found the store where they can buy the TechCrunch they have read about. Their market is local, so they must shop accordingly.

 What is a teacher to do? Some say, “If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.” If all who are frustrated (all those in #2) do so, our kids may starve. Certainly, there are some cooks in #2 who won’t even read about Nouvelle Cuisine, but how can we reconcile the desire of the better ones to reach #3 with the requirements of #2 (and the transience of the ingredients in #1?).

What we need to do is throw out the recipes. We need to be sharing loads of ingredients, maintaining awareness of what is available at the web2.0 Farmers Market (and perhaps asking some farmers to grow a little more of this or that), sharing what we know about tasty substitutions for missing ingredients,  granting permission to generate unique concoctions, and encouraging  kitchen-sharing with anyone who walks in. The Nouvelle Cuisine folks would welcome the collaboration and gladly relinquish the haute in favor of rich potluck. The Cookbook Writers in #2 MIGHT be convinced to permit change, as long as, ultimately, there is a taste test to assure that what we cook up is “good food” (most likely a regional or even personal taste).  Ultimately, what we want is food that satisfies: “cognitive nutrition” (term adapted from Tom O’Brien and Christine Wallach. And perhaps a new ventilation system for that kitchen heat would be a good idea.

Am I lucky, or did I earn this? I work from a rural setting, enjoying a bald eagle who lands outside my window, on the tree where my hammock hangs (really!). During the day I “visit” and talk with people all over the world. I pry into their brains through their blogs and watch over their students’ shoulders through their online projects. I wonder sometimes how this happened. Scott McLeod writes of Dr. Richard Florida’s view of the world as “spiky,” not flat. The spikes are the few global, creative centers that suck in great minds of innovation and productivity. If that is the case (and I’ll have to read Florida’s book to decide what I think), I am not sure how I ended up being networked into a spike from my rural location, but I am. I hope I qualify as one of the creative ones, anyway.

Florida reportedly maintains that choosing one’s location is key to success. Scott wonders aloud about the role of rural schools in this scenario.  I guess I may have been lucky, or perhaps somewhat deliberate and definitely timely, in landing where I have. I am living proof that

Anyone, anywhere can be a “resident” of such a creative megalopolis[a spike], though making the initial contact may be the biggest challenge. If the rural schools can share the vision of an extended “reach” of these “centers,” the local economy can still survive. (from my comment to Scott)

I do believe that any school can help students build a vision and a sensitivity to opportunity so he/she may be able to live in a vast “valley” but have connection to and gain benefits from physically-distant “spikes.” I don’t think we need to live in the spikes to be able to draw the economic benefits of them back into our geographic communities.

I still don’t know exactly how I came to be so fortunate. Mostly it was a confluence of circumstance. But whatever the cause of my situation, I think it is a scenario that is more and more possible for rural kids, assuming someone shares the vision.

Will Richardson’s post (rant) on 21st century skills and getting educators onboard has drawn copious comments. He is so right in describing the conference venue as  frighteningly dull and disconnected. The sheer commercial nature of how conferences happen is study in slime. Exhibit halls are filled with the latest buzz-word wrappers on the same old products, and EVERYONE is “for sale.” The conference organizers, logistics companies, and convention center management each take a cut of the commercial pie, and Internet access is just another costly “add-on” in Edu-make-a-buck Land.  Been there, done that. As an exhibitor from a non-profit, I have enjoyed marvelous reactions (“Wow, you’re like Robin Hood!”)…but that is another post.

I disagree with Will, however, on the “network.” While he is fortunate to have the network (and respect) of reform-minded and creative people, many teachers do not have that network. Many teachers do not even have the facilitators or coaches or general support that is being offered by the “in network” commenters on his post. Yes, the process of changing teachers and administrators is glacial, but without some very basic barrier-removal, they have too many good reasons for not being a part of the “network.” Blogs are blocked. Anything that requires a log-in or “sucks bandwidth” is suspect or prohibited. How would you expect them to know a world that is truly invisible from inside those walls?  Yes, they should at least have enough GUILT to ask about these “new-fangled things” and to ask the non-educator people who control the filtering/network to at least explain why Google Earth  and blogs are “bad.”

The best thing our “network” (and I don’t know if I’d be considered “in network” or not) can do is to simultaneously support those teachers by shoveling the paths they CAN take, applauding them for building learning networks in their classrooms, and realizing that they do not have time to toot their own horns. We may not even know about some of the finest teachers who have engaged in connections outside their classrooms with little fanfare and even less awareness by higher-ups so busy with test scores.

I knew a teacher who facilitated a virtual classroom created by HS kids for over 3000 kids from gr 3-12  over 5 years ago — when wikis and most web2.0 tools were not even in existence. They interviewed, shot pictures, answered and asked questions, connected to concepts from gr 12 calculus to gr 3 reading. A HS sophomore wrote all the code (Cold Fusion), and the team uploaded images and video until 2 a.m. from a “borrowed” hotel connection in Alaska. No acclaim, no network, just great stuff. I truly believe there are others out there doing terrific, Constructivist projects. It is not their job to announce themselves. Let’s continue to support and highlight those who ARE doing it, and realize that their peers will learn from being nearby, as well.

At the same time, we need to continue to share visions of what it “looks like” to do education in other ways. That is what the network is for, not establishing “cred.” (end  of my rant)