CIO: Joe Strummer's Passion

Here's what I love: a voice and a guitar.  Of course, a voice with a guitar backed by drums and a bass, and maybe even a second guitar, isn't too bad either.  Still, there's something about the honesty of a single individual staking out his or her ground armed only with these two instruments.  And here's a great example of this: Joe Strummer singing "Long Shadow."

The song is stripped bare to the point where it is not so much what Strummer is singing about as the way he is singing about it.  I have no idea when he recorded this or how, but I like to imagine it was after a long night of battling against uncertainty and doubt. Listen to the gravely throat, the tired edges on the words he emphasizes, the way he musters the strength to punch key lines: "you don't chase your demons down. Ya gotta grab em Jack and wrestle em to the ground." What lends him the authority to make such a declaration?  His decision to use his voice, and his refusal to hide it under layers of production.

I don't know if he is in tune. I don't think he is, but it doesn't matter. In fact, all the better if he isn't. Because this song is about confronting life, about not hiding, about being genuine.  It is about peering into the darkness and confusion that one so often encounters in life and triumphing because of one thing: the clarity of one's passion.

But Is It Really 'Resolved'?

This exchange makes me smile:

Maybe I'm just happy to see that Goodfellas is not a completely dead reference yet.  For sure it is teetering.  And when I mention particular names associated with the film, like Scorsese or DeNiro? Forget about it.  Nevertheless, if this 14 year old knows the movie, there must be others roaming my school's hallways who also know media created prior to 2010.

But there's more to it than just a mutual love for this 80's gangster story.

The screen capture above shows a brief conversation on Google Docs. Typically, I see Google's default "Marked as Resolved" accompanying my comments. In this case, however, the student decided to use my comment as a way to extend the conversation. See how Tommy ends his question with "one of those classic scenes?" That refers to a discussion he and I began in class. As we talked about visuals, we agreed that it would be wonderful if he could find an appropriate to clip to play. People familiar with the film understand what a challenge this can be.                                                                

So here's a pretty big benefit to having students use Google Docs: in this one brief reply, I see this student continuing to process what we had discussed earlier.  I do not mean to suggest that using Google singlehandedly makes kids more recursive thinkers.  That ability existed before Google. But this brief conversation makes Tommy's reflection visible.  If in the past I had to assume that kids internalized conversations I had with them about their writing, this exchange provides a small but telling insight into how Tommy processes and tinkers with ideas.
                                                                                                                   

I also think this reply tells me that Tommy is engaged in what he is doing.  He wants to find the perfect moment to highlight the film for his peers.  The assignment itself requires Tommy and his peers to select a piece of media they find worthwhile, but that is a "hidden gem" for their classmates.  Instead of choosing at random or going with the first clip he can find, Tommy has sifted through telling moments in the film and arrived at what he considers to be a classic scene (and he's right, of course).
                                                                                                                   

All of this leads me to wonder about "Mark as Resolved." On the surface, this phrase appears perfect: informative and succinct. In essence, it tells me, the commentator, that my suggestion or question or feedback has been acted upon. There has been "resolution".  However, after seeing this phrase standing by itself on doc after doc, my view has shifted. 

It is totally hollow.  It resolves nothing. It feels more like a statement of "dis"regard. The very choice of italics seem to add a layer of irony or sarcasm to the visualness of the phrase.  Actually, there is no indication that my thoughts even have been read.  A colleague of mine requires students to say something when they resolve her comments, even if that something is "thanks for the comments."  I like this and plan on adopting the practice.

But this leads me to a different, albeit related, topic--as we think about helping kids establish digital routines, what do they need to know to be productive collaborators? One answer: be appreciative, thoughtful and deliberate. The same qualities we want them to exhibit in their face-to-face relationships.  And this will be the topic of another blog post.

Building a Community One Ball Pit at a Time

The following post makes use of Amy Borovoy's Edutopia blogpost: 5 Minute Film Festival: Nine Videos on Kindness, Empathy, and Compassion (May 13, 2013)

On the heels of last month's tragic Boston Marathon and the national debate around gun violence, many people are feeling worn out by the repetition of the same tragic storyline. This event, like all of the others, raises questions that seem impossible to answer: what drives an individual to commit acts of carnage?  What prevents people from living harmoniously?  These questions are all the more confusing during Teacher Appreciation Month, a time to reflect on and practice gratitude for the people who have taught us and have invested in the health and well-being of children.

Unfortunately, today we seem to be losing touch with these important lessons, just as we seem to be losing touch with each other. Indeed, many of us are living out the paradox of being ever more plugged in, and ever more aware of what's happening in our community via social media platforms, while at the same time, face-to-face interactions are less frequent than ever before. 

Apparently, we must redouble our efforts and pledge to do more to reignite compassion. But how? What is required from each one of us in order to start building the safe, nurturing communities we all desire?

How about a ball pit?

True, that is probably the last thing people would think of; however, the folks at the YouTube channel SoulPancake figure a ball pit is exactly what's required. Their video Take a Seat-Make a Friend? encourages people to get into a ball pit with a complete stranger.  As one might imagine, there is some awkwardness at first as people sink into the their places. But the fact that they are in a ball pit helps to break the ice as most pairs begin sharing previous ball pit experiences.

The real genius to the set-up, though, is that the folks at SoulPancake have printed questions on the balls for people to ask each other: what's on your bucket list? who inspires you? and "when was the first time you fell in love" are just a few examples.  While the answers to these questions differ, the underlying point is difficult to miss--we might be strangers, but we share experiences.  And, once we are reminded of our shared experience, empathy becomes that much more likely, especially when talking face-to-face. Not to mention that it also becomes easier for the two strangers to create their own secret handshake. 

While this video serves as a powerful reminder to view others with magnanimity, perhaps some will say it is a bit too whimsical. It's a fun little sidewalk diversion, but ultimately not helpful for tackling the more difficult task of establishing a community. In that case, watch The Helping Hand-a story by Z. Murphy & L. Kranen and see how strangers make a difference in the life of a young boy and others like him. 

This video introduces us to Daniel, a curious, playful boy who was born with one arm "much shorter than the other." While Daniel is not presented as a victim to feel sorry for, it is clear this birth defect affects his quality of life. Enter the engineers.

Two students from the Rose-Hulman Institute of Technology meet with Daniel to work out a design for a prosthetic device. Their goal is to help Daniel, and those with similar problems, live fuller lives. At the end of the video, we see a room full of people who have taken part in this process, including Daniel and his family. Daniel's sister sums up the importance of the moment, remarking on how powerful it was to see the gathering of this community.

Sometimes, after all, it just takes opening our eyes-- seeing, observing--to understand

how we can act compassionately.  To understand how a small act of kindness can make a difference in somebody's life.  The video Kindness Boomerang-"One Day" conveys this perfectly. 

Write What You Know. And Don't Know.

I had a great conversation with a student as she worked on a piece of writing for class. My assignment asks students to select a media text and explore how it represents America's success or failure at striving towards a key ideal. She decided on Remember The Titans.

Here's what she knows: the film illustrates people separated by ignorance and close-mindedness finding the strength and determination to overcome the things that divide them, ultimately instilling a sense of pride and unity in their community.  That's a pretty great thing to know.

However, here's what she doesn't know: how possible is it to duplicate this success in today's America? To what degree has it been achieved? Are we more divided than we were when the events depicted in Remember The Titans took place? Or less so? And finally, how is she, as a 16 year old with limited life experience, supposed to sift through the complex questions of equality and opportunity in this country in order to propose a final answer to any of these questions.  She was really stuck.

My answer to her was that she cannot answer these questions in any definitive way, because they are questions that defy easy answers for 16 year olds as well as 60 year olds.  But especially for 16 year olds.

So I spent the rest of our conversation assuring her that, as a reader, I did not need "the answer" to feel that my time has been well spent by reading her blog.  At first when I pointed this out, she looked incredulous.  Which is not surprising when I consider what she has been taught throughout most of her educational career: there is an must be an answer!  This includes the way that writing is typically taught. After all, one of the underlying lessons of the 5-paragraph essay format is that every topic can be reduced to 3 parts and an answer is always required.

• Holden Caulfield is a great American character. Fine.
• Boo Radley represents redemption. Sure.
• Huck Finn uncovers the hypocrisy at the heart of our major institutions. Got it.

The problem with these answers is that when a 16 year old writes about them, they oftentimes contain as much passion and surprises as a form letter.  There may be a patina of the writer's underlying personality, but no real sense that the particular question propelling the writing has been internalized.

The upshot of our conversation: I didn't need her to answer the questions outlined above.  In fact, I wouldn't really expect her to.  As a reader, I want to know what she knows.  But, more importantly, I want to know what she wonders about and what she grapples with.  As a reader and a person, this will leave a more indelible mark on me than being told that Lady Macbeth wielded the real power behind the throne.