A Rationale for Some Recent Work

I wrote the following to share with my students, but thought I would make it public. Thanks for reading.

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Understanding that many of you struggled with the New York Times article, “The Foul Reign of Emerson,” I thought it might be helpful for me to provide a rationale for why I assigned it.  As I said a number of times in class, the piece was challenging.  Benjamin Anastas wrote it with the Times readership in mind: a readership that is typically highly educated.  While you might not be a part of this target audience, I do believe that struggling and stretching can have positive outcomes in your ability to grasp difficult texts. Think of it this way, if you are an athlete you don’t want to practice and compete against others below your level.  To improve your skills, you need to be pushed by somebody at least at your level, if not beyond it.  I think the same holds true if you are a musician, painter, performer. Or reader.
Some of you might have felt the same frustration when you read Emerson’s “Self-Reliance.” Perhaps you found yourself wondering, “why would MrG put me through this?  Why do I need to know any of this anyway?”  That last question is a pretty common refrain regarding many things “learned” at school.  Why do I need to know this?
My answer: you don’t.
Being unfamiliar with Emerson, or Anastas’s criticism of him, will not relegate you to some kind of second class status or cost you a job.  But I think this is the wrong question to ask. When I learn something new, my question is, “how can this benefit me?”  And my answer to this question is that the more I learn, the more the world around me takes shape.

snehit

Here’s the way I see it: due to my lack of knowledge, the world around me is obscured.  It’s dark.  Kind of like the night on the cusp of dawn when the outlines of objects can start to be discerned.  As I learn from others, whether it is Emerson, Einstein, an artist or colleague, these outlines become more substantial.  Objects present themselves.  The darkness recedes a little more.

C. Johnson

But there’s this as well: as these things I read and watch and listen to enlighten my world, they also help me to understand how to articulate my own ideas.  In essence, they allow me to take part in creating the world that is slowly announcing itself from the shadows.  Kind of like Harold with his purple crayon.

This is why I want to keep learning, even when that learning requires struggle and frustration.

So my question for you is this: what do you find it important to learn, even if it includes struggle, and why?

The View from Day 10

Taking a cue from #wickeddecentlearning,

Dan discusses what he's learned in these first 5 days that he should probably remember.... http://t.co/hnbFKpTkqi
— WickedDecentLearning (@WickedDecent) September 4, 2013

I decided to give my students a survey concerning how they were feeling as we hit the Day 10 mark.  While this doesn't seem like a particularly important milestone, my district has gone 1:1 this year with Chromebooks. So I was curious to see how my 11th graders were feeling about school overall, but also about the use of these devices.  Here's the snapshot with some of my reflections tossed in for good measure:

Observation #1: These kids are busy.  Some of them are really busy.  I've taken to thinking of this as the "professionalization of school."  Sometimes when I talk to my students, I swear I'm talking to my adult family members and friends.  Their schedules are overflowing.  Loaded classes, extra-curricular activities, practices and games and performances--and this is just what they have going on at school. When I consider how busy the adults in my life complain about being (including me) I realize that, if nothing else, school is training them to carry this mantle.  

Observation #2: These kids are busy.  I find it's good to remember sometimes that these are not adults I'm with whom I am working. They are young people who are busy negotiating a whole lot of issues besides what I throw at them in my class.  Yes, I want them to ask important questions and produce interesting work.  But I know I think about my class a lot more than any of them do. My point is not to devalue what I do or my subject matter, but to think realistically about what I should expect from this group of 16 year olds.  
Observation #3:  To quote one respondent: The fact that all that I have worked towards my entire life is finally coming down to its final years almost revolutionizes the way in which I approach things.  Since these are juniors who took the survey, many of them wrote about the college process, ACTs, and what for them is very important business.  It is easy as an adult to disregard this student's perspective as a bit overwrought; however, I can't criticize it without considering my own role in a system that sends plenty of messages everyday that education is about GPA, test-taking, and positioning oneself to get into the "right" school.

Observation #4:  Over half of my students replied that the Chromebooks offer an advantage overall for their day-to-day education.  This is good news.  At the same time, many of the comments they added belied the degree to which they really saw the benefit.  

The rest of the observations relate in one way or another to the Chromebook.  Personally, they have really gotten me thinking.

Observation #5:  Many students are still skeptical about the advantages offered by the 1:1 environment.  Ultimately it might be helpful for learning, but it's too early to tell.  I am actually happy to see this.  After all, one thing I and other teachers constantly ask them to do is think and not just mindlessly embrace ideas because they are told to.  If they need longer than 10 days to decide on how helpful the Chromebooks will be, well, that seems logical.

Observation #6:  Those who talked about advantages definitely stressed the easy access that the device offers.  This access includes being able to find resources and connect with teachers.  I fully agree.

Observation #7:  Similar to #6, some students were pleased with how much more organized they felt now that some classes have begun to use Google Drive as a central location.  I mentioned this same discovery in a tweet: 

#1to1 benefit: teaching Ss to organize their work. So long shredded folders with stuff from 5 classes. #d225play pic.twitter.com/SU50VIbPMh
— scott glass (@sglass771) September 4, 2013

Observation #8:  Some students explained that the Chromebook pales in comparison to other devices and see it as a very limited machine.  Of course this is true; however, I am curious to see how they feel about it as the year goes on, more teachers begin to use it in class, and they get more familiar with Google, as well as other apps and extensions.

Observations #9:  Just because they are kids does not mean they are instantly attracted to technology.  This might be the most informative point.  As adults, I think we have the attitude that if we dangle a device in front of them, students will immediately forget all the other reasons they find school to be a drag.  Like the computer and internet are some kind of catnip that disables all judgement.  Well, apparently this is not true.  Here are a few choice comments: Sometimes I would rather just write out notes or get an assignment and do it on paper instead of the Chromebook. I don't like it because my parents paid 200$ for a computer that I already have. I don't mind using pen and paper to take notes because then I know for sure what I wrote. too different, too much technology, too many problems, hate them to be honest.  Reading these comments makes me realize that if I want a truly collaborative learning community, I must do more to make my case for why I think this device can be helpful.  And I must give them the opportunity to use it to learn and create in ways that are personally meaningful.  But I think this also suggests a disconnect or gulf, even, between students and the faculty and administration.  Well there were students involved in a 1:1 pilot last year, most of them were oblivious to the impending change. Now that it is here, it is clear that many do not understand why the Chromebooks became a requirement and what benefit they add.  One takeaway for those heading down the 1:1 path--get the students involved in the process early and often.

Observation #10:  Related to #9: at the Day 10 mark many students already report a general sense of apathy: It's okay. I just always wait for the weekend. It feels like we've been here for 10 months rather than 10 days. Schools awesome..  School is as routine as always.  It's fine? School is school.  The device alone changes nothing.  Most educators would probably say, "well, duh."  But, as educators, I think many of us are excited about going 1:1.  Yes, it represents a shift and a challenge, but these are worth it because so many possibilities seem within grasp.  What a number of my students report, however, is not excitement, engagement, and a renewed sense of purpose in their education.  Indeed, so many of them still see education as something done to them, not as something over which they can take ownership.

1:1: How To Use Our Time

Two things have been on my mind lately: how incorporating devices into my classroom will affect the the way that my students and I learn together; and how to navigate some of the pitfalls that inevitably come with this environment.  The former fills me with excitement and hope.  The latter makes me anxious and uncertain, especially as I think about my goal of going paperless.

Here's my concern: I plan on making a good deal of what we read available as Google Docs, like excerpts from Emerson's "Self-Reliance."  If we are going to talk about these in class and I want them to take some notes on what he says, their Chromebooks will have to be open.  Once those Chromebooks are open, however, the internet with its multitude of choices and distractions, is a click away.  Of course, I understand that distractions have always abounded, even when students sat with hard copies in front of them. Just because they have a book or packet on their desks did not guarantee their attention, let alone thinking.  But the access to the internet represents a different kind of temptation.

So what can I do?  Here's a few possibilities:

Talk honestly with the kids about an online routine centered on mindfulness and responsibility.
Absolutely I plan on doing this and on describing my own efforts at using digital tools in useful ways. I've reflected on my routine on a Google doc here, which I will share.  When I've talked to students about a establishing a routine, they have responded positively. Still, they tend to see the choice to pay attention or not, whether online or off, as a personal one the student makes, over which the teacher has little control. Typically they are quick to point out that the student must deal with the consequences of deciding to not pay attention.  But their is a resigned tone to these conversations regarding how much a teacher can affect students' choices.  So I think I will need a something more proactive on my part.

One option would be to only allow a certain number of computers to be open at a time.  I've used this to varying to degrees of success.  On the positive side, it does make them aware of how they use their devices and instills a sense of shared responsibility.  The drawback, however, is that a student might want to access an article to contribute to the conversation, but be unable to because of a glut of users. Perhaps a way around this would be to have a revolving supervisory position responsible for noting which students wish to use devices to access articles and notes and can keep track of people's time spent online.  This would not be an "enforcement" position because I would not want students to feel that they need to police their peers.  Instead, the role could function almost like front of the house staff at a restaurant, noting reservations and moving people along.  Another problem might be that the person in this role would not be able to pay as much attention to the discussion or could miss some important points because the micromanagement of the class would probably demand quite a bit of attention.  Allowing people to share notes or ideas at the end of class could also help allay some students fears that they might have missed something due to not taking notes.

Another idea relates to 20% time.  Like many other educators, I find these methods very attractive for bringing genuine, self-directed learning into the classroom.  Thinking about how to integrate it, I am reminded of Stefan Sagmeister's Ted talk, "The Power of Time Off."  In the midst of explaining why he closes his design firm and embraces semi-annual sabbaticals, Sagmeister showed this graphic:

His point is that by the time we are done learning and working, we have little time and energy left to pursue our passions.  Instead of this common way of breaking up the stages of one's life, he proposes that we take this approach:

Sagmeister argues that we should break up the chunk of time typically saved for the end of one's life and integrate it throughout our most productive years.  He believes that this keeps one enthusiastic, engaged, and creative.  

Taking this as a cue, I wonder how students would respond to knowing that in each class period they would have a certain amount of free time to play on the Chromebook.  And by free time, I mean free time. They could use it to check in with  friends, explore some personally relevant idea or question, hit a website or two that they like, maybe even play a quick game: it would be their time.  The hope is that if they know they will have time for themselves, this could sharpen their focus and motivation during the time that I want them engaged on the curriculum.  When I think about how I work, I know there are times when I need short mental respites in between more intensive rounds of reading, writing, and thinking.  So instead of leaving these breaks for the end of class, they can look forward to them periodically during class.

Quite possibly I am delusional to think that providing this independent time will dissuade them from surfing when they should be otherwise engaged.  Then again, a conversation regarding all of these possibilities is worth having with the students.  Perhaps they have some suggestions that I have not considered.  That would be the best potentiality, for it would give us all a stake in negotiating how to make the classroom function as the powerful learning space I hope it can be.

The Inquiry Approach: A First Attempt, Part 1

At my school, one of the responsibilities of teaching 11th grade American Lit is guiding the students through a research project.  "Guiding" probably is not the best word choice. How about "dragging." Why must they be dragged?  I'm sure part of it is the name and all its unpleasant connotations: THE RESEARCH PROJECT.  It sounds taxing, uniform, and out of touch.  Most students figure that this project will entail weeks of researching a topic which they had little choice in deciding and it will inevitably lead to a long paper that they will not read ever again.  It is a bit ironic that research should be seen this way.  After all, research it is something that everybody does everyday and, for the most part, on personal devices that fit in one's pocket.  Of course the difference is that this "everyday" research revolves around questions and topics that are personally relevant and meaningful.  Whether the research is regarding something insignificant, like the various places to get a good taco, something of critical importance, like the procedure for dealing with cancer that a loved one has been diagnosed with, or somewhere in between, this activity is self-directed and genuine.  Thus, most students would not label it research it all.  It's simply learning.  After years of struggling to foster this same attitude for the "research project," I decided last year to drastically change the framework.

My first decision: let the students choose any question as the basis for the project.  Next: actually make it evolve into a project, not just a paper.  With that, the "A Question That Matters" inquiry project was borne.

1. Blog Post: A Question That Matters.  Without being told that it would lead into the research, I asked students to add a post to their blogs in which they discussed a question that was meaningful for them. It did not have to concern English or school in general.  
2. Blog Post: Answering the Question in The Extreme Negative.  Borrowing an idea from Hillary Bullock, a colleague, I had students take their questions, which were pretty open-ended and dealt with topics like "success" and "regret" and had them create an answer that articulate an extreme point of view. For example, if the question was "how do I know when I have achieved success?" the student would answer by saying the ways he knows he will not be successful.  It was meant to be a way to start narrowing the question and focusing on possible answers.
3. Blog Post: Read an article. Two fantastic librarians found an article to accompany all 40+ questions.  Students read their designated article and wrote a blog post on what the article said about the question: perspectives, other questions, important sounding names, organizations, studies that are mentioned.  I also asked students to consider if they needed to refine (or even change their question).  At this point, they knew this was a part of a larger research project.
4. Introduce Evernote.  I decided to show them Evernote and "encouraged" them to use this tool to collect and reflect on their research.  Part of this was to give them one online location where they could house everything (and that they can access across devices) and to introduce them to a tool that might be beneficial in creating an digital routine for their academics.
5. Research.  They needed to find 5+ sources that provided different perspectives on their question.
6. Write a short paper.  Students wrote either informative or persuasive essays, based on their questions and what they felt they wanted t say.  Instead of this being the endpoint, however, it was only the first part of them demonstrating what they learned.  The More interesting part came next.
7. Create a multi media project. Based on what question students asked and what they discovered, they needed to figure out a way to use digital tools and/or tangible materials to say something about the question.  This is where students really struggled, but also felt challenged in a meaningful way. 

Being Present: Tweeting the Talk

Recently I attended the Leyden 1:1 Symposium.  On two consecutive mornings I was fortunate enough to hear timely, thought-provoking keynotes: first by Chris Lehmann and then by George Couros. See:

@chrislehmann First Dewey and now Neil Postman: technology is transformative and schools should be so as well. #LHS1to1
— scott glass (@sglass771) August 1, 2013

@gcouros echoing @chrislehmann: schools that don't leverage creative possibilities of tech are irrelevant in Ss lives. #lhs1to1
— scott glass (@sglass771) August 2, 2013

That's right. During these engaging addresses, I was tweeting.  But not only that.  I was also recording ideas and questions in Evernote.  Is all of this really necessary?  Wouldn't it be better to have my device closed and give my uninterrupted attention to the person speaking?

These are questions that I must address because, as my school moves to a 1:1 environment with Chromebooks, the same behavior that I exhibited will be duplicated by my students. And I do not want to feel impulsive in my classroom management decisions, or like a hypocrite.

Some of my "Evernotes" while listening to Chris Lehmann 

I think explaining why Evernote is important is easier than defending my twitter use.  After all, with Evernote I was making sure to document ideas that I wanted to employ in my own classroom and questions I wanted to consider after the presentation.  Most teachers I know encourage and even require note-taking by students during presentations, whether by the teacher or peers.  I think this would fall under the category of "active listening."

So what about twitter?  I tweeted 9 times while listening to Lehmann, 4 of which were retweets. During George Couros's talk the following morning, I tweeted another 9 times, including 3 retweets. When wondering if this is necessary, I know there are people who would answer with an emphatic "No!"

I imagine one criticism running like this: chances are most of the people citing a particular twitter handle (@chrislehmann) and hashtag (#LHS1to1) at a specific time are doing so because they are all participating in a conference, presentation, or workshop together.  Since these people have their twitter streams open, they will be privy to a lot of the same tweets bouncing back and forth, like light off of a mirror.  So how does it benefit somebody in the audience to reread a dozen tweets restating what the speaker just said, only in a more concise (less powerful?) rendition?

Actually, I think there might be something to this.

As I tweeted and read tweets during the presentations, I was struck by the repetitive nature of many of the tweets.  It was also interesting to see the flurry of activity when Lehmann or Couros would say something perfectly packaged for twitter consumption.  Suddenly fingers all around me would be busy.

Perhaps it would be preferable to just listen.

What's more, some people might add, is that part of the reason one tweets is to see how others respond--to see how many times others will retweet and favorite one's work.  In this way, there is a kind of narcissism to tweeting in general, and during a talk in particular.  It's like a bunch of people continuously reminding other audience members that, "yes, this speaker is good, but I'm also here and I'm special, too."  Ok.  So maybe twitter skeptics wouldn't argue this.  (Although I think some would.) But, being relatively new to twitter, I know I have wondered if this drives my tweeting.

So as I offer some reasons for why I added twitter to my listening repertoire, let me start by owning that last reason.  There is a part of me that feels good about others embracing my thoughts about what we are hearing, just as I'm sure others feel good when they see me retweet and favorite their tweets.  Is this a bad thing?  To the degree that it does not become the sole reason for tweeting, I don't really think so.

But the important reasons that I tweet during a presentation, and would like to offer my students the opportunity, are as follows:

1. Working the 140.  Wow it can be exacting, especially when I know I need to save 8-15 of those characters for a handle and hashtag.  But I find the discipline required an invigorating challenge. As teachers, we are all concerned with our students' ability to be concise and clear.  Twitter communication demands these qualities.


2. Making it stick.  As a teacher, I know that one surefire way to understand something is to teach it. No other activity insures that one gets to know a subject inside and out.  While tweeting what somebody else stated is not exactly like teaching it, there is value, nevertheless, in crafting a tweet that captures and articulates an idea.  In those moments when shaping a tweet, I find myself thinking more deeply about the idea and the perfect wording.  Contrary to the criticisms that tweeting reinforces superficiality, it provides me with spurts of hyper-attention and mindfulness, even if these can be brief, which, hopefully, help in the process of moving the information beyond the short-term memory.  And even if the idea does not make it into more stable memory, it has been recorded and can be revisited.


3. Joining the conversation.  Yes, that phrase is probably cliche by now.  Yet, widespread use does not make it untrue.  In the midst of tweeting about Lehmann and Couros's keynotes, I had individuals agreeing with my tweets, refining my tweets, and raising questions and sharing links based on my tweets.  As I stated in #2, tweeting is not mired in superficiality.  But neither does it encourage passivity.  As with Evernote, tweeting requires me to be actively engaged and evaluating what I'm hearing.  Unlike Evernote, however, tweeting also allows good ideas to spread because


4. Tweeting is sharing.  In the hypothetical counter-argument above, I imagined that a talk's physical audience also represented the majority of the people reading the tweets about the talk. Maybe. However, I know from experience that people absent from the Leyden Symposium commented on and retweeted my tweets.  These fellow educators deserve to hear what leaders in the field have to say.  It reminds me of this tweet, from an educator I connected with at the Leyden Symposium

If you have an awesome lesson that no one else knows about, you aren't fulfilling your obligation to education. #lhs1to1 #moedchat
— Bob Dillon (@ideaguy42) August 2, 2013

Given these reasons for why I tweet during presentations, I cannot fathom withholding the experience from my students.  Even if it means there will be times when I or somebody else is speaking, and the class looks like this:

Reflect-->reEnVision

Time for some reEnvisioning of my teaching

Having navigated the #clmooc, it's time to reflect on what I accomplished. Here are 5 key things I experienced.  

          

                                                                                                                                                                                                           Now it's on to the classroom in the fall. How much can I provide a physical and digital space that allows my students to have the same experiences? Not sure. However, this is more than just an "in addition to."  If my goal for everything we do in the classroom is to "make it matter," then these 5 experiences are imperative.  Not only will they help to foster an academic digital routine, which they desperately need, but it will also bring a healthy dose of Terry Elliot's "messification" to the classroom.  Not to mention positioning students and me on the edge of the "emergent possible."

The Credo-Flection

I finally had some time to think about my credo.  I decided to try organizing it using Blogger's mosaic view.  If read in the correct order, each post adds to the overall belief.  The problem is that the correct order could prove a bit challenging.

Flip the pictures over from left to right.  Depending on how Blogger feels at the particular moment you check it out, there should be three rows. The clearer picture of me should be the last one.  Here's the link: Credo-Flection.  Thanks for checking it out.