Broadcasting Me

Recently, I watched a Ted Talk by Andrew Fitzgerald titled "Adventures in Twitter Fiction." For most of the talk, Fitzgerald provided examples of the interesting ways people are experimenting with social media, especially Twitter, in order to tell stories. While I enjoyed hearing about these examples, it was something he said earlier in the talk that really intrigued me:

We are all broadcasters now

It is not that I found the statement groundbreaking. In fact, it is really just the latest version of an idea I have heard often: we are all now producers of content and designers of our digital personas. Still, something about Fitzgerald's declaration got me thinking, especially when I paired it with ideas from two other Ted Talks: "Your Online Life, Permanent As A Tattoo," by Juan Enriquez; and "After Your Final Status Update," by Adam Ostrow. 

While these two talks ultimately do not focus on the same exact idea, they agree on one thing: as human beings, we all now have to consider something that no other humans in the history of the world had to on quite the same scale--we are "broadcasters" of our selves. Meaning? With every move we make online, especially regarding social media, we provide information about ourselves that affects how people see us right now. But that's not all.

This information will also outlast us.

When we are no longer physically on this planet, our posts, tweets, pics, purchase histories, emails, videos, etc, will remain for our children, grandchildren, and successive generations to see. With this in mind, perhaps we need to take time to consider the kind of digital self we are leaving behind. As I think about my "broadcasting" from the previous week, here's what it looks like:

1. A few gift purchases on Amazon.
2. Some pictures of a family get-together on facebook and Instagram.
3. Between 5-10 G+ posts. Some for class communities and a few for a mooc in which I am participating. For one of the posts, I used YouTube Editor to create a short video about writing.
4. Roughly 150 tweets regarding education. Most of them surrounding the idea of #edjoy--a hashtag that I have asked other educators to use.
   
5. An iMovie video posted to YouTube in which I tried to remix a friend's Vine video. 

There is probably more that I am forgetting about. Here is the upshot, though. It has me thinking about my "broadcasting." Does it give an accurate sense of who I am? Have I shared ideas that I find important? Or how about this question:

If people only knew me through my "broadcasting" from the previous week, would I be happy with what it says about me?

Creativity Brings Life

Recently I came across this Vine, compliments of @timneedles:



It inspired me so much, I decided to remix it and use it as the basis for a short video:



For such a short video, this actually took me quite some time. Naturally, somebody might ask why I would spend a couple of hours putting this together, knowing that few others would see it. The simple answer? Creating, regardless of what it is, provides a break.

It is about the process. Whether making a video


A piece of micro fiction:

Or a multimedia collage:

Working on this material or with paper, scissors, and glue removes me from my daily routine and reminds me how important it is to explore the emergent possible. It is too easy to coast, to skate, to not think beyond what needs to be done. But life is mysterious and wonderful and difficult. Creating restores an awareness of what is in front of me and, more importantly, what is inside me.

Creativity brings life. Rejoice! Inside, you'll find power. You'll find ability good for a big heart.

My Problem: Tests

I attended a conference last year where I heard Chris Lehmann speak. Like countless teachers, I consider him on target regarding the ways we need to rethink how we do education. And, like many teachers who have listened to and spoken with Chris, I now have a problem: tests.

As Chris was discussing the benefits and challenges of implementing a problem based curriculum, like they have at SLA, he said something along these lines: if you have a test at the end of a unit, you don't have a problem based curriculum. You have a test based curriculum. Well. That makes sense.

But, as it turns out, resisting the impulse to test is quite difficult. First off, there are some reasons to give tests. For example, on a test, students can demonstrate their knowledge. Tests can also hold students responsible for information and reward those who have been diligent about doing the work. I am sure there are other reasons as well; however, my intention here is not to support tests. Instead, I want to reflect on why I am struggling with giving them.

Here are three reasons: 1) I'm not convinced that a test truly shows what a student thinks about whatever it is she is being tested on. It is the definition of top-down assessment. 2) Tests standardize learning, which is messy by its very nature. 3) Tests do not strike me as authentic learning experiences. What do I consider learning?

This is learning

And this 

And this 

Each of these examples illustrate meaningful, hands-on experiences. By looking at the work and talking to students about the experience, I know these activities required planning, focus, attention to detail, trial and error, flexibility and risk. These are skills that we know students (and all of us) need. 

So, why can't I just embrace this approach and think no more about tests? I guess a big reason is that tests still reign supreme. As much as I hate to say it, I feel pressure (albeit from within) to conform. I feel (again, with no real evidence) like other teachers would regard with suspicion my choice not to test. I feel like I might even be doing my students a disservice by not testing, since most of them are going on to college, where they will face some big tests. 

Thanks Chris Lehman. You have me thinking. Then again, it would be so much easier not to.