Walking the Technology Walk

       Our school district talks a lot about technology—but with three 15-year-old computers in most of our classrooms, there’s not much walk with that talk.  So why would any teacher be reluctant to put to use Internet-accessible computers that students bring into our classrooms with them?  More than half of my seniors walk into my classroom with such computers—only they call them cell phones!

       Our students are symbiotically enmeshed with these technological devices, and in ways that grievously irritate most teachers.   You see, we aren’t here because we need a job.  We’re here because we truly and deeply believe that what we have to impart to our tender young charges is crucially significant to their lives and intellectual wellbeing—far more significant than their plans for nutrition break as negotiated through text messages!  So when they make those plans their priority, instead of what we think should be their priority… well, let’s just say that for me, that is a significant threat to my psychological comfort zone.  So, between my control issues—I mean, my comfort zone, and the fact that I do not, in fact, really understand the astronomical potentialities of those tiny devices, and therefore am rather threatened by them, it seems the easiest policy to follow is “Off with their heads!”  

       Is Mr. Carroll’s Queen of Hearts someone I want to take for my pedagogical model?

       While I wouldn’t mind my classroom being seen as moderately analogous to what was down the rabbit hole, I’d like my students to be able to accomplish something Alice never did:  making sense of what’s going on down there.  My students grew up with entirely different information processing strategies than those I and most of my colleagues experienced.  But as a general rule, our strategies are what’s in place in our classrooms.  And unfortunately, our students make about as much sense of those strategies as Alice made of mushrooms.

       There are many ways to access our students’ information processing systems, but, much to our dismay, most of them involve screens.  This becomes problematic when there are only three screens in the classroom.  So forcing the twenty-plus kids who enter the room with fully functional, Internet-accessing screens to keep them in their pockets—or, rather, under their desks!—seems utterly profligate.  

       Results of my research were overwhelming:  cell phones helped students.  From organizational tasks like recording assignments or filing information to higher level cognitive skills like taking literature notes or creating symbolic visuals, cell phones enabled students to process information more effectively and professionally.  And we really didn’t even officially “use” either the Internet or word processing capabilities of the steadily increasing (from over 50% to begin with) number of “smart phones.”

 

       For most of the world, cell phones are the majority of the population’s personal computers.  If cell phones give our students access to more effective (for them) information processing strategies, aren’t we being negligent if we refuse to allow them in our classrooms?

Wk4 Publishing_Leadership Project

The two publications I selected were National Council of Teachers of English (NCTE) publication English Education and Association for Educational Communications and Technology.  These publications, while academic, both accepted articles exploring innovative strategies in a more reflective or informal style.  Their readership is by definition dedicated to improving strategies for designing and implementing instruction, and such teachers would find a lot to think about in an article exploring the use of cell phones in a classroom.

Here is my article link:  

Atherton_Debra_PubLead_Project.Docx

Here are my blog links:

Publishing & Leadership "Thinking out loud" Blog 1 

Publishing & Leadership "Thinking out loud" Blog 2

 

  

Wk4 Reflection: Publishing_Leadership Project, Part 2 of 2

POST 5

Years ago, I took a 4-day seminar at UCLA extension on writing the personal essay.  We spent an entire morning—1/8 of our time together—addressing the question of where to publish.  Because fun as it is to write something and polish it till it’s all shiny, it just stays an empty vine if you don’t put it out there and let it bear fruit. 

But therein lies a huge risk for those of us who haven’t been risk-takers:  REJECTION!  So my first impulse is to start someplace small.  But I find myself stopping and analyzing my first impulse these days!

So I checked out one “Big Name” publication and one that seems like an easier fit.

The NCTE (National Council of Teachers of English) is a well established and prestigious group that actually runs several publications.  The one that seemed closest my project’s idea is English Education, which, to quote their website (http://www.ncte.org/journals/ee/write) “serves those NCTE members who are engaged in the preparation, support, and continuing education of teachers of English language arts/literacy.”  I’m really not as interested in publishing “traditional theoretical and research articles,” but the second type of article is described as “shorter, innovative/nontraditional ‘Extending the Conversation’ articles.”  That would give me some fluidity in my style, as well as shortening the part of the lit review I’d need to include.

The second publication is Association for Educational Communications and Technology, one of many Springer publications, which could be just as prestigious as NCTE, for all I know, which isn’t, in this arena, much.  This publication also has a Research Section, which is looking for rigorous research-oriented articles, as well as a Development Section, which, in addition to instructional design research papers, welcomes, according to their website (http://www.aect.org/intranet/Publications/index.asp), “papers that report outcomes of innovative approaches in applying technology to instructional development.”  That sounds like me.

Having to pick one, as each publication requires that all articles be submitted to theirs exclusively, I will probably go with the one I’m more familiar with first, but I’m not sure how open NCTE is, in spite of their “innovative/nontraditional” description, to technological advances like cell phones in the classroom.  (I’m afraid I speak from experience—previous experience, I should say!—here.)  But now that I am an innovator, in addition to being a proselyte, I’d of course like to start changing the world in the very bastion of traditionalism!  Well, at least I’m not pretending to not be who I am…

Wk4 Reflection: Publishing_Leadership Project, Part 1 of 2

POST 4

Um…. Do I really have to do this one?

OK, in the spirit of Zanderism, let me analyze that impulse that says, “Push yourself, Deb!  Get outside your box!  Do a presentation!”

Why?  This entire year has been all about that.  And one thing I’ve learned is that people should learn new things, but they should also honor their own gifts.  And I’m a writer.  I think by writing.  I understand and get insights by writing.  What is, is.  The presentations and videos I’ve done that I really was proud of, well, what they started with was good writing.  I’m pretty sure it was a blog earlier this month in which I commented that my AR pitch, a work I’m pretty proud of, basically got written in the half-hour between my mammogram and a nail appointment—and then took another 40 hours to turn into a video.  Now, it was a great educational experience, and I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, but if somebody were paying for it, they should pay me for the writing and someone faster to do the visual!

So that voice is not, at this time, coming from an exuberant, adventurous place, but from the place that says, “Your gifts aren’t good enough!  Try harder!  You need to get better!”

Bite me.

So I’m going to stick with what I love, enjoy, and am good at.  Let’s do publication.

Wk4 Response 3: Anne Alsup’s Anecdotes

POST Extra

I too felt indignation at the thought of blaming myself for what was done to me, but Zanders is right, the blame game doesn’t make the world a better place.

Indignation.  Righteous anger—yep, that’s what it is. 

I’ve had to deal with several things the past few years that haven’t just seemed to me monstrously unjust but been documented by “Impartial Observers” to actually BE monstrously unjust.  (Ask me about the Batmobile some time.)  And this stupid book has me asking—not for the first time, but maybe with a touch more courage to hear the answer—what the heck I’m doing to precipitate this.  I still don’t know.  It doesn’t make sense to me.

But that’s where my calculating self has taken over; see, if I could get it to make sense, the unfairness would surely have to give way to sense, wouldn’t it?

Talk about stupid—how do we manage to cling to nonsensical ideas like that????

I’m not editing that out because I am making a—not a commitment, but an effort—toward transparency.  And that’s what I said to myself.

What is, is.  I cannot control the forces that create injustice and unfairness in the world.  What I can control is my commitment to Rule #6.  What I can control is my thoughts:  “Be transformed by the renewing of your mind” has been the “watchman to my heart” this last 6 weeks, and I am beginning to see fruit.  (I heard a nurse explain once that emotions are chemical responses to our thoughts—and that we absolutely could not control the chemicals, but we COULD control the thoughts that produce them… with some practice!) 

I’m a little irritated at myself this afternoon that my “responses” to other people have been—just say it like it is, Deb—all about me.  But then I heard another thought:  that when something I say sparks learning & insight in someone else, I feel satisfied; I feel I’ve succeeded at my job.  I hope you feel that way now.  I’m having a hard time today, and you just made it easier.  Thanks.

Wk4 Response 2: Tricia’s Tech & Art

POST 3

"Trying to remember myself in each other person’s shoes will help me to react with a more enlightened attitude, just as Ben did when his students partied in South America. What would it have helped to “go off” like so many of us teachers are expected to do. Instead, the kids understood, felt enabled, apologetic, regretful, and still valued. Amazing."

Oi, Tricia—why is this such a hard thing?  It’s obvious that appealing to the best in young people means a different thing than I thought it did—that it means seeing the vision they’ve already got for themselves, NOT implanting the vision I’VE got for them—which is certainly why I “go off”! 

You know, I think of myself as a kind and giving person—that people feel better about themselves when I am around.  And there are a lot of instances where that just isn’t true.  Because there are an awful lot of instances where I’m all about me.  Even when I’m trying really hard to be all about… “not me”!!!!  LOL!

What is, is.  “You shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.”  But it’ll surely beat the heck out of you first.  Hmmm… getting the “heck” out is kind of the point, though, isn’t it?………….

Wk4 Response 1: Jeannine Berube's Bodacious Blog

POST 2

"Am I willing to live in the Universe of Possibility?  That is the most honest question I can present to  myself as I finish reading this book.   Knowing now not only of this new universe, but also having been given the tools to navigate, am I ready to embark on this new adventure, to learn to be the “BOARD” on which my life is played?  Am I willing to enroll others in the “game” rather than scare them to death; to begin to create new frameworks of possibility, to truly tell the story of WE instead of me?"

My calculating part says “I’m tired”—my central self says “I’m scared.”  “STOP!  You’re BOTH right!”  (Was it a Doublemint commercial?)  Yes, having wrapped up my school year last week, the usual exhaustion is enervating me, making the much that is going on both personally and academically feel a lot harder than it is.  But I’m also very afraid of giving up some of my old roles and old rules.  Sure, they haven’t worked very well, but they’re the only roles and rules I’ve got.  I had.  I don’t have to choose to walk that way any more. 

You know what else you don’t need to do, Debra Jo?  You don’t need to undertake a revolution right now.  Just love yourself—give yourself the compassion and understanding you’d give someone else in your position!

Excuse me, Jeannine, I just took a little aside in our conversation to have one with myself, which was a little self-centered!  (Ha.  Ha.)  Uh oh.  How do you manage to constantly open me up to truth?  In fact, that’s all I’ve been doing—writing about me.  This morning, talking about being vines & branches, the pastor said something about producing fruit being about caring for the other person more than you care about yourself, and between that and the book, I’m open to seeing what I’m seeing, and hearing what you’re saying. 

I’m a little irritated at myself this afternoon that my “responses” to other people have been—just say it like it is, Deb—all about me.  But then I heard another thought:  that when something I say sparks learning & insight in someone else, I feel satisfied; I feel I’ve succeeded at my job.  I hope you feel that way now.  I’m having a hard time today, and you just made it easier.  Thanks.

Wk4 Reading: "WE are here to change the world..." --Captain Eo

POST 1

I want to make my curriculum a WE story.

The most revolutionary insight I’ve had in this year of insights was the idea that students are hungry—starving—for learning that is meaningful to them, that enables them to experience accomplishment and contribution, to solve problems and make their world a better place.  And the society we live in allows very little room for them to do so.  I’ve shifted my perspective on that last statement, so that it is no longer a hopeless complaint but a “What is, is” observation. 

What I think I can do about that is NOT tell my students how to get out there and solve problems but to make my classes next year an opportunity to define the relevant problems we have together and together construct activities that will accomplish solutions to those problems.

 This is not as easy as it sounds in a senior English class.  One problem is that we are required to experience some writing and reading, including some of that dread nemesis, “literature”—and I would like to discover some way those activities could turn out not to be “problems” but instead solutions to problems.  I got a glimpse of this with some things we did last year, and I begin to see some ways to grow those seeds into seedlings.  Approaching storytelling as a culture’s attempts to solve some of the problems of their shared humanity seems to offer possibilities.

I always start my classes each year with a journal writing on what each student wants to get out of their senior year, and right this moment I am observing how self-centering that question is.  So what if I start asking what problems they define as important to solve?  My immediate response is that if I ask that question in a brand new class without having established trust and respect, I’m just going to get “nebulousness” (that’s my English-teacher word for what my Daddy used to call “Baloney Sauce”).  And that might be perceptive; or it might be my calculating self afraid to fail.  Perhaps I could begin with the “A” letter; I can’t actually give them a guaranteed A, but I can ask them to imagine how it would be if I did.  (No, this is public high school; I seriously can’t.)  But I think I’d want more thought spent on that than a 10- or 15-minute quickwrite.  Another avenue is posting, for homework, an excerpt from The Art of Possibility on the class LMS and assigning a discussion—but that has logistical issues that may take some time to resolve, so it might not be a good 1^st night assignment.  Or…

Deep breath!  These are good seeds to plant; Graduation was last night, and I have a whole summer to fertilize them and see how they grow.  Toward a light of Meaningfulness, in a greenhouse of We.  That’s a sappy metaphor.  I’m going to use it anyway.

Wk3 Project Reflection: "More matter, with less art"

POST 4

Wow!  That was invigorating!  I must do this word limit thing more often!

I have a phrase in my classroom:  “Too much water in the Kool-Aid.”  As intoxicatingly enamoured as I am of verbiage, too much of it dilutes its impact.   Distilling down into crisp, knife-sharp prose, shorn of its maquillage:  I shiver.

I’ll stop now.

Wk3 Response 2: Anne Alsup’s Anecdotes

POST 3

Dear, dear Anne,

So nice of you to give me something to respond to that doesn’t require me to search my soul:

“Almost universally, students perceive the role of the teacher as supplying knowledge and answering questions, a notion that has been perpetuated by an arena of high-stakes testing. While this methodology has merit for the conveyance of basic facts and principles, it falls short of moving the student to transference of the principles at higher levels of intellectual and cognitive application.”

Do you really think the methodology has merit?  That’s not what your AR said!  Will kids remember ANYTHING we tell them… tomorrow, let alone next year?  Why can’t they remember that “a lot” is two words?  That “definitely” has “finite” in it?  I even deduct a point every time they write it the wrong way, and still, every time they write it they write it the wrong way!!!  OMG, every school communication I’ve seen go home in the last half decade, from the highest echelons to the newest teacher, has used the wrong “your”!  So how can I expect the kids to get this stuff, yes even if they’ve been TOLD since kindergarten?!?!?

Crikey.  I skipped the soul searching and went straight to the rant.

Yesterday, I sent my new principal-to-be an email in response to his wonderful meeting with a few of us teachers to begin to design a professional collaborative community.  He wants to begin with something different at pre-school days (yes, we got two of them back), and I told him what I’ve been learning this year about “meaningful.”  That a lot of people write off anything we do in those “Welcome-back-let’s-bond” activities—because to them, they’re not “meaningful.”  When we let our students develop THEIR thoughts, THEIR understandings, THEIR ideas—that’s when something happens. When we shut up and let THEM find solutions to problems.

THAT is what you have so effectively and brilliantly documented in your AR project, and I hope you publish it EVERYWHERE, because you have documented the absolutely most important thing for every teacher in the world to learn.  We can give them all the answers in the world—but it turns out that that’s not giving them anything.

Wk3 Response 1: Tricia’s Tech & Art

POST 2

“I realize from reading this chapter that I need to remind myself that I am a teacher, not a parent of 162 children. I am not physically or mentally able to project my personal value set in the discipline of my classes. I must remember that position and attention are central to my students, and they do not intentionally mean to offend me with most of their actions. They are surviving in a competitive environment. I must focus on finding my central self rather than the calculating, judgmental, angry, resentful self. I can’t judge rude children without considering the whole person=who knows what is going on in their life or how they were raised.

“Those ideas fuel the imperative avoidance of ‘downward spiral talk’. Relating back to my challenge students, I need to stop expecting a negative interchange as soon as they walk in the door. Maybe if I tried an ‘upward spiral’, the interchanges would be more positive from the jump.”

Tricia,

You are always so positive in your outlook and intentions, and so committed to making your world a better place, for those around you as well as—incidentally, I think—yourself.  I tend to disagree with you about our students’ intentions—regardless of the factors that might lead to it, there is always a spiteful intention behind being rude to someone, and while it may sometimes be understandable, it’s never okay—but their intentions don’t matter.  I think you’ve hit the nail on the head with your observation that “I must focus on finding my central self rather than the calculating, judgmental, angry, resentful self.” 

When somebody triggers those responses—no, reactions is the accurate word, because I’m not responding to who they are; I’m reacting to a bell they’re jangling in me.  If their rudeness is just about them, then I don’t have to get mad about it.  Why?  It’s not my problem.  Example:   I don’t allow profanity in my classroom.  Instant referral (or so they believe, and if I don’t “hear” who said it, they’re all so relieved)!  Now, it doesn’t make me mad—I don’t get judgmental—but there’s something about the offensiveness, the verbal violence and ugliness, that just wounds my soul.  Nothing personal; I just have to stand up for my own bastion of civility. 

But if their rudeness reminds me of my own “uncoolness” in high school or reflects a fault I don’t like in myself or makes me feel inadequate—tell me, by the way, why in heaven’s name a woman with “being listened to” issues would choose to become a high school teacher?—then of course I’m going to experience the rising up of aggravation and irritation (at least).  And what makes those feelings really powerful is my denial that they’re about me.  If they were, I could “be” in them; since they’re not, I can’t put any appropriate boundary around them, and next thing I know, my classroom has filled with crackling static, and everyone is bristling and no one is listening.

My central self is giving, not needing, and so what that giving self is going to mirror back is worthiness.  When people feel worthy, they don’t act rude.  And then their teachers (among others) begin to perceive them as worthy, which … well, there you’ve got your spiral going.

Wk3 Reading: "Wherever you go, there you are"

POST 1

 O God!  I LOVE conducting!!  I mean,  acting!!  I mean teaching…  I mean, being the center of attention doing things I’m just all wonderful at!!!

                                                                               

Well, because I am so insightful, this isn’t the first time it’s occurred to me that there’s an element of feeling inadequate beneath this lust for being observed—admired—in perfect performance.   What is the first time is seeing a fetching child with wispy blonde curls swirling around her face as she twirls and laughs and dances and sings for all the adults in her family, finding her niche, her survival strategy.  She’s going to be all right.

It works, too.  At least, as long as I’m performing.

Don’t get me wrong—it’s not all superficial.  I have a great passion both for teaching and for what I teach that is an integral element of my central self and which is not invalidated by the perambulations of my calculating self.  And yet my pedagogical goal of probably the last decade recognizes that performance-centered teaching may not be the most beneficial method for my students, that I’m looking for my own glorification more than my students’ growth: If I really want to be a better teacher, I need to “Shut up, Deb.”

It’s complicated being me.  Sometimes I’m a walking manifestation of Rule Number Six:  I stand on desks, I make funny faces, I tell funny stories on myself.  I apologize easily if I get something wrong.  And other times I’m the queen of seriousness.  Usually when students aren’t doing what I want.  What IIIII think is important.  Why, it’s almost like I have two selves!

The, well, semi-good thing is that my two selves emerged from guerilla warfare and have been battling overtly for quite a while now.  Long enough for it to get a little tiring.  Ironically, when I get all f’tutzed over the momentary successes of the calculating self, that’s one manifestation that the calculating self has the upper hand; that self really doesn’t like herself very much.  The central self has a recognition that the other one is not other, but self, and embraces that small, scared child with compassion and acceptance.  The central self has long had a tag-line that works the seventh practice:  “What is, is.” I mean, I kinda wish the war was over, but I think it’s easier to move toward that when I at least acknowledge that there’s a war going on.

Finally, I’m going to therefore acknowledge that I skimmed the last chapter.  But not because I’m wretchedly time-stressed (or at least, not just).  There are times in some lives when “giving way to passion” is…  too much.  Too explosive.  Too time-consuming.  Too dangerous.  This is a time like that for me, and it’s not just because I’m doing about 2½ jobs right now, although that doesn’t help.  And in those times, it’s not the job of my central self to get on my case for being inadequate and unable to change, but to validate the reality that the time for reaching toward that promise isn’t just yet.  To take a deep breath and stop fighting.  To remember, in the immortal words of Buckaroo Banzai:  “Wherever you go, there you are.”

And that’s a good thing.

Wk2 Reading: Possibility & the Art of Contributing

POST 1

As I begin writing, the dominating truth is Ben Zander’s playing of Chopin.  I started the video in a welter of not just tension and anxiety but resentment: “WhateverwhateverIjust don’tfreakinghave TIME forthis.”  There’s something about his playing that transcends any musical experience I’ve ever had before—as if Plato’s actuality of beauty had manifested itself through my ears into my brain.

That’s not good right now.  Several times during the reading of these chapters, I teared up—my physical response to truth—but I squelched the tears.  I don’t have to look at my thoughts to see the characteristics of the measurement mentality in my “operant powers”—tell me, when one quotes Shakespeare, is one required to cite?  Or doesn’t one rather leave hanging the assumption that, of course, one’s conversational partners will recognize the allusion?—one of my favorites being pretention.  Oh, there’s a maelstrom of well

edublogs.org

measured melancholy burbling under my surface, as I sit at the end of a challenging year, which is at the end of a grievously difficult decade.  And this blog would give me an opportunity to do another productive round of bleeding ink, symbolically speaking, or I can turn to a rather more intellectual analysis of my classroom and my students.

I don’t have time right now to bleed.  The kiddies it is.

I had an epiphany in Dr. Dan’s class that changed the way I look at the emergent adults in my classroom.  I can’t even remember why now (of course, I can’t remember if I ate lunch today), but I recognized that what these young people really wanted out of their education was not to get out of it, but to know that what they were doing was meaningful.  And that what they’re doing in school, well, they usually feel that that isn’t.  We were at this time wrapping up Pygmalion, and instead of giving them the usual literary analysis essay topic, I asked them to think about a problem they or a friend had that might have a solution in a lesson they learned from that play.

I’ve been teaching seniors for twenty years, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen them so engaged in my life.

So when Mr. Zander writes that “adolescents are looking for an arena in which to make an authentic contribution to the family and to the community,” and “how few meaningful roles are available for young people to fill” (p. 40), I saw an explanation for the present vacuous obsession with prom.  When we fail to give them anything productive to do, how can we be surprised when all that’s left to care about is “Me!  Me!  Me!!!”

On the other hand, “Me!  Me!  Me!!!” is a rut almost all of my students have been in for a long time.  And I don’t know where this “senioritis” garbage came from, but they are utterly unashamed of wallowing in it.  If I gave my students a guaranteed A, I have no doubt I’d never see a majority of them lift a finger again, except to text under their desks.

My students, you see, aren’t there because, like Mr. Zander’s students, they desire deeply to improve their performance, but because the state and their parents force them to be.  Does this mean they’re getting nothing of value in my classroom?  Oh no, no, no—you should see them, this week, shining eyes reflecting the black-and-white glow of Olivier’s Hamlet.  And I am really sure that’d be happening, grade or no.  But the other wonderful things they’re doing—the visual poem, the fascinating discussions?  They wouldn’t have those experiences if I didn’t reward them with points.

My grades aren’t competitive.  Plenty of points to go around—an unlimited supply.  Of course, I’m fond of saying “I don’t give points—you earn them.”  And I hope they earn them doing valuable work that teaches them not only how to express themselves effectively but who they are and what they are capable of.   I see them satisfied when they achieve something in a way that certainly transcends the reward/punishment system of points.  But without that carrot, I don’t see them giving themselves the opportunity to achieve the satisfaction.

At least, not this year.  As I reflect, though, on opening for my students a “Universe of Possibility,” I see that I have myself modeled that concept continually this year. I’m not only one of the “Old Farts” but had a well deserved reputation for being, while devoutly enthusiastic, hmm, let’s just say a bit of a stickler.  This year I have continually tried one new thing after another, flagrantly experimenting and making mistakes and trying something else.  I’ve boldly gone where no one (not at my school, anyway) has gone before. When I showed our principal the tweets we did in class watching Hamlet, he looked at me and grinned, “Who’da thought you’d be the one doing this, huh?”  I’ve demonstrated categorically that one is never too … too anything to learn new stuff, no, not even if one's first pet was a dinosaur.

Wk2 Project Reflection: Of Worth and Websites

POST 4

What am I doing here?

I have never had a desire to get a Masters degree.  Why the brochure from Full Sail jumped up off my desk last year and declared, “You have to do this,” I do not know.  I certainly didn’t know what it was going to entail.  Like getting married, or having a child, or becoming a teacher, or any of the other worthwhile but demanding life-choices we get to make, I might not have done it if I’d had a clue what I was getting myself into!

This, after all, was not my milieu.  I’m a book and pen and paper girl; I’d finally taught myself to compose on a computer, but I still do all of my reflective writing in a notebook, usually with calligraphy pen. 

So I am proud of me.  A read-and-write Masters would have been much more comfortable for me, and I’d probably still have enjoyed it—and spent a lot less time on it!  But I think I’d have missed the most important thing I’ve learned this year, which is that not just learning new stuff but implementing that knowledge to change the world is the most stimulating, invigorating thing a person can do. 

Now, to be honest, my AR site is largely writing.  One of the things I’m working on now is visual elements—I’ve got some video, and some pictures, but it seems I mostly get in what HAS to be in and then run out of time.  And part of that is because the media elements take me FOREVER!  I wrote most of the amazing (if I say so myself!) script for my AR pitch, “They’re Just Playing Around,” in the half hour between my mammogram and a nail appointment—but it took me over 40 hours to put the video together.

This is frustrating for me—I’m not used to having to struggle to accomplish something academic.  But I feel so cool when I’m done.  And—another extremely valuable experience this year—I really get a taste for the frustration my kids struggle with when I’ve asked them to do the kind of academic stuff that comes easily to me.

Finally, the project itself:  What an amazing experience!  The thrill I felt the day I let the kids take their video notes on their cell phones and discovered that, against all “conventional wisdom” as well as my own expectations, students were MORE focused on their task rather than less—an “Aha!” moment multiplied by all the implications of the discovery.  But I learned as much through what didn’t work as what did; it was my unsuccessful first activity that led me, eventually, to realize the need high school students have to be achieving meaningful work, and how unvalued—useless—they feel when they perceive they are just jumping through hoops.

If you’d told me 12 months ago that within a year I’d have my own website, and have done all the things I’ve done for it, the Skeptical Eyebrow would have nailed you to the wall.  But now I can speak with the credibility of the adventurer who comes back with pictures: the most rewarding place to grow is outside one’s comfort zone.

Wk2 Response 2: Anne Alsup’s Anecdotes

POST 3 


“Who makes the rules anyway and what were they thinking? Seriously, if we never colored outside the lines, where would we be? If we define ourselves by our perceptions of what our administrators, legislators, students or their parents think of us; where would we be? Given the current state of affairs in education, I'd much rather step into a "universe of possibilities" where I can have some control over my perception of the reality. If teachers are going to inspire their students, they need to have some inspiration. Budget cuts, meetings, more reports, standardized testing, learning gains and AYP, do not count as inspiration. If we are going introduce our students to the world of possibilities, we need to make sure that we are acquainted with the terrain.

“I would love to give my students an A and differentiate my instruction to better meet the needs of my students, but the system that I work in doesn't support that goal. It is wrong to tell a student to seize the universe of possibilities and invent his own path to success, when there is a big bad test at the end of the year that is going to determine whether he passes or fails. We simply need more options in our system to allow students more control over their future and the opportunity to experience the universe of possibility. We need to re-think the rules and create some new possibilities.”

Anne,

I have to put this in again:  “If we are going introduce our students to the world of possibilities, we need to make sure that we are acquainted with the terrain.” 

I remember the professor of the first class I took when I went back to school a decade after my bachelors.  The class was “Writing for Teachers,” and this lady, who would later become my student teaching supervisor, told me that what concerned her most about my becoming a teacher was that I’d bury myself in it, to the detriment of my writing… and everything else in my life.

“O,” she would say if she could see me now, “my prophetic soul!”*

I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your lovely compliments— and sometimes I actually feel like I “have moved beyond survival thinking and into abundant thinking.”  But I also get to see some of my shortcomings—some of the “control issues” that aren’t about my class operating smoothly but rather about my fear of failing or my anxiety over things not going the way I want them to.  And I see that this survival thinking has at least in part resulted from the parching of my soul due to allowing—maybe even encouraging—the exigencies of my profession to strangle the possibilities of possibility in my life.

That’s my part of the dynamic.  But the “exigencies of my profession”— well, you described all those perfectly.  And they have a part too.

Isn’t there some way we can find balance?  Hold ourselves and our students to a high standard of accountability that nurtures our humanity and our creativity instead of our Bradburian “pressing buttons, pulling switches, fitting nuts and bolts”?  (Dang—now I have to do a citation.)  It’d be pretty easy, actually:  all we’d have to do is have 12 or 15 students (and Macs) in every classroom.  Barring that, we need people with both vision and the media expertise to implement it to rise to leadership in our educational system.

I know the last thing you want to think about now is more schooling, but maybe you should consider getting your administrative credential!

*(Sorry—yeah, it’s Hamlet again…)

Bradbury, R. Fahrenheit 451. (1953).  New York:  Ballantine Books.

Wk2 Response 1: Tricia’s Tech & Art

POST 2

@font-face { font-family: "Times"; }@font-face { font-family: "Cambria"; }@font-face { font-family: "American Typewriter"; }@font-face { font-family: "Georgia"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }span.apple-style-span { }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }

 POST 2

“In our society, so many things are also taken out of context. They get so far gone that the construct becomes the assumed reality. I feel that has happened with the process of standardized testing (which we are in the midst of right now), and how learning, and in turn funding for the school, is catered to performance on this test. Isn’t the convention of taking a final assessment being a good measure of learning completely blown out of proportion here? Do we really have the best intentions for our children in mind? And it is being transferred because now, with a month of school left, kids think they are “done” and can totally slack (and let go with their manners) because testing is over. How much better would it be if we were teaching them that learning has no culminating end, that there are profound concepts to be learned that can’t be answered in multiple choice format, and that everything in life cannot be re-done and re-done until you pass?

“As stressed in the reading, the important thing is to reflect on HOW thoughts and actions ARE a reflection off the conventions of a measurement world. If I could somehow transfer just that simple concept to my students, I think they would grow a lot in all facets of their life.”

Tricia,

Could you do it?  Could you get away, in an art class, with giving them a guaranteed A?   Do you have “standards” in art that need to be “assessed” to measure your effectiveness?  Aha—measurement thinking at its most literal.

Seniors don’t test, so my whole year is steeped in the “done” attitude, and I love how you’ve identified the subsumed message that testing is implanting in the kids about the infinite re-do of life.   I get lots of wrinkles this time of year with my face squinching in deep sympathy for the kids who have had much better things to do with their time than participate in the growth activities I’ve made available to them, and suddenly, less than two weeks before graduation, they want to rush out and do them now so they can get “the points.”  But some decisions in life can’t be re-done.  Not to mention the time-wasting futility of just racking up points.

There's the quintessence of measurement thinking:  translating a possibility-oriented concept like learning into point accumulation. 

The most common reaction to offering my students new possibilities is confusion.  Confusion is a survival-thinking mode.  Students’ thinking paths shut down in the face of “pressure from invented realities or fear of what could happen,” as you said; they fear the scarcity of points—or perhaps the embarrassment, or feelings of inadequacy—they perceive to be inevitable if they don’t write down the Correct Answer. They don’t see themselves as learners gifted with a new opportunity to grow, so they can welcome the possibility of overcoming, of contributing meaning into their lives or someone else’s.  And why should they?  Their “system” tells them they’re already “done.”

I think it’s important to live where we live:  measurement thinking is not going away any time soon from teachers’ lives.  Indeed, our culture has been steeped in it since the Puritans got off the Mayflower and began their mission of dividing the sheep from the goats, and teaching students how to be successful in a measurement-oriented world, whatever that means to them, is, I think, an important part of our job.  But possibility doesn’t live out there, in our houses and cars and bank accounts.  Possibility lives in here, in our hearts and souls and minds.  So while we teach our students the strategies for functioning in the measurement-oriented world, perhaps we can facilitate that by showing them how to adjust the focus on their self-perceptions so they see themselves as learners in a universe of possibility.

So maybe there’s a way to give them A’s in their minds and hearts even if they don’t get A’s on their report cards?  I’m afraid that’s going to be a function of personal interaction (piece of cake—if it didn’t take so long to grade all those required essays).  Or maybe just showing the way, as you put it, “to reflect on HOW thoughts and actions ARE a reflection off the conventions of a measurement world.”

Week1 Free Reflection: Copyright in my Classroom

POST #4

LA County has a department for teacher tech training, and a few years ago I took their week-long beginning course (“OK, do all of you know how to turn on your computer?”).  Half a day was dedicated to the topic we’re studying this week, and the idea I came away with was that it was not okay to show “Mulan” in the auditorium to entertain kids on a rainy day, but it was okay to show it in your classroom as part of a unit on Chinese culture or women’s roles in society. 

While I’m pretty sure a teacher could definitely get by under the second conditions—even in Burbank, where there is doubtless at least one kid whose parent works for Disney in most classes—this week’s videos have me questioning whether it’s legal or not.

This is applicable to me directly, right now.  I don’t have my kids read Hamlet.  As I’ve said before, I think Shakespeare would roll over in his grave if he knew we were locking teenagers in classrooms and making them read his scripts.  Shakespeare is most available to us today in films, and that’s how I’ve taught Hamlet for years.  I show students both the Olivier Hamlet and the Zepphirelli one with Mel Gibson (still, even after David Tanner, my favorite Hamlet), and maybe even some of Brannaugh’s if we have time.  Well, “show” might be the wrong word; it takes five or six weeks, with me and my magic clicker, to get through both films in class.  Because we’re not “watching” them as entertainment; we’re studying them as literature.  Yes, we’re studying Shakespeare, but we’re also studying the films as literature in and of themselves.  (Well, okay, probably Olivier’s more than Mel’s.)  But am I violating copyright laws to do so? 

If I’m addressing the films as literature rather than as supplementary material, or as entertainment, it is completely non-optional to show the film in its entirety.  And I do, from opening credits (in Olivier’s case) to closing ones.  How, I ask, is this different from reading Of Mice and Men?  Or perhaps, Sophie’s Choice?  Well, we bought the books, which I assume under copyright gives permission for every person who picks the book up to read it, not just the person who bought it.  I bought my copies of both films; does that give me the right to show them to anyone I wish, as long as it’s not for profit?  But what if I bought one of them on eBay?

One side of my brain says these questions are ridiculous.  The other says they’re what the word “legal” is all about.  The law, having not yet evolved to deal with the situation that actually exists now, and still somewhat subservient to those whose interests are not to conserve culture, history, or even artists’ rights but to conserve their own bank accounts, makes such questions extrememely pertinent.

In my second paragraph, my original sentence didn’t say “questioning whether it’s legal or not”—it said, “questioning whether it’s right or not.”  But as I wrote about what I’m doing in my classroom, I had to change that.  I really have no doubts about whether it’s right.  I have kids who come in thinking black and white movies are boring, and end up, some of them, making black and white videos of their own.  As I said in my first posting, “When circumstances pressure a law out of its original intention, it’s time for common sense to 'revolt,' and that time for this law has surely come.”  How much good stuff will we lose before the law catches up to life in the 21^st century?

Week1 Response #2: Jeninne Berube's Bodacious Blog

POST #3

“How will students understand that taking someone’s “idea” is not right, unless they are taught to respect the work of others? 

“For example, all during my action research, I was constantly watching my students while they worked to be sure that the images they used were copyright free, covered by fair use or not used on their project.  They were greatly disappointed at first.  As we discussed it in class, I asked students how would they feel if someone stole their idea and didn’t ask permission to use it.  They agreed unanimously that they wouldn’t like it.  When I explained that was why the copyrighted material couldn’t be used, they understood and accepted that premise.  It was also interesting to note that since that class discussion, if students had a doubt about the use of an image, they asked me for guidance in using that image.  I always say people do what they’re taught.  If students are made aware of the need to credit a creator’s work, then most often they will respect that creator’s rights.  In turn, they also learn to respect the work of their peers.” 

Jeannine,

I have to admit I have really kind of blown off this whole copyright issue with my students—just one more item on the never-ending list of things we have to do, & it’s one I haven’t made it a point to get to.  It’s that “fair use” idea:  If they’re using it for their education, that makes it okay, doesn’t it?  But what am I modeling for them?  In many other arenas, I try to show them as well as teach them that they are designed to be kind and respectful of others, and to honor both who those others are and what they’ve accomplished.  How, then, can I just slide over the concept of respecting the intellectual property of others?  Your post was a wake-up call for me.  As seniors, my students are not only very involved in the creativity our videos referred to, but about to leave the relatively forgiving world of school and childhood, and get out into the “real” world—where they can be sued for not having been taught this! 

And another place your blog inspired me was in the arena of passing on what we have learned to other teachers.  Again being honest (don’t people often seem to say that before they begin whining?), it seems a lot of this “extra-content” stuff seems to fall on English teachers—and being pretty much the only ones who seem to be actually teaching (and therefore having to grade) writing, we feel quite over-burdened as it is.  (Seriously.  I do not see any other teachers dragging around boxes and baskets of papers!)  But this is an issue that’s connected with the “atmosphere” of an entire school—Do we respect others, or not?  With high schoolers, there are so many arenas where this can be taught!  I don’t know ANY teachers at my school (well, maybe two) who aren’t committed to helping their students become better, more thoughtful and considerate human beings—and your blog has convinced me that that is what this issue is about!

And once again, you inspire me to get “GoAnimated”!  What a great way to get with the parents; they have got to think, when they see that, “Well, this is obviously not gonna be your boring school meeting!”  I bet I could embed something like that on my LMS for Back-to-School Night next fall!  (I’m still not going to give up making my seniors create invites for their parents, though—that’s one of my favorite assignments!) 

Finally, you have inspired me all year with your determination and persistent strength. You have had such an amazing year in all the things you have done and learned, and I know much of it has been through challenges, like your illness, that would have overcome someone who was not such an overcomer!  I really hope you are coming down for graduation; time to do some celebrating in person!

:<)  Debra

Week1 Response #1: Anne Alsup's Anecdotes

POST #2

 “I can't say that I agree with the copyright laws or the definition of what is and is not fair use, but I am sure that the laws were set up with the best of intentions. Seventy to a hundred years seems excessive. …

“Creative Commons is like a flashing red light in the middle of the night. It doesn't mean you don't have to obey the law, it just adds a little common sense to the situation. Creative Commons is a good solution for all those concerned. Most of us want to share our work, but we don't want to be taken advantage of. CC makes it possible to share, but still retain some control over your work. It would be wonderful if more artists would voluntarily submit to this common sense approach.”

Dear Anne,

I’m surprised that I was surprised that we both wrote about intentions, not to mention our shared emphasis on common sense!  Leggis’ example of the farmers and the airplanes illustrated that our culture has developed in ways unfathomable to those original law-makers.  You’re right; the Creative Commons approach balances protection for the original artist with cultural and creative freedom for the artist who interacts with the original work. 

It’s so tempting to make the corporate music structure the villain here, but it’s an establishment that worked for everyone—artists, listeners, investors.  I have to confess to a deep pang of nostalgia when I saw the “Tower Records going out of business” sign!  Change is a force of nature—and this change in the accessibility of publication, from a years-long battle with infinitesimal chance of success to an instant exposure for anyone who can click a mouse, has been more like a tornado than a cleansing rain.  It’s understandable that the establishment would resist the onslaught, especially when the precipitousness of it gave little chance to recognize it and evolve.

      

But the kids have hacked into the system and set the stop light to blink in the middle of the night.  And the cops can instigate a big old manhunt… or they can acknowledge that the kids have got the clearer view, and withdraw with good grace.

:<)   Debra

POST #2

 “I can't say that I agree with the copyright laws or the definition of what is and is not fair use, but I am sure that the laws were set up with the best of intentions. Seventy to a hundred years seems excessive. …

“Creative Commons is like a flashing red light in the middle of the night. It doesn't mean you don't have to obey the law, it just adds a little common sense to the situation. Creative Commons is a good solution for all those concerned. Most of us want to share our work, but we don't want to be taken advantage of. CC makes it possible to share, but still retain some control over your work. It would be wonderful if more artists would voluntarily submit to this common sense approach.”

Dear Anne,

I’m surprised that I was surprised that we both wrote about intentions, not to mention our shared emphasis on common sense!  Leggis’ example of the farmers and the airplanes illustrated that our culture has developed in ways unfathomable to those original law-makers.  You’re right; the Creative Commons approach balances protection for the original artist with cultural and creative freedom for the artist who interacts with the original work. 

It’s so tempting to make the corporate music structure the villain here, but it’s an establishment that worked for everyone—artists, listeners, investors.  I have to confess to a deep pang of nostalgia when I saw the “Tower Records going out of business” sign!  Change is a force of nature—and this change in the accessibility of publication, from a years-long battle with infinitesimal chance of success to an instant exposure for anyone who can click a mouse, has been more like a tornado than a cleansing rain.  It’s understandable that the establishment would resist the onslaught, especially when the precipitousness of it gave little chance to recognize it and evolve.

      

But the kids have hacked into the system and set the stop light to blink in the middle of the night.  And the cops can instigate a big old manhunt… or they can acknowledge that the kids have got the clearer view, and withdraw with good grace.

:<)   Debra

@font-face { font-family: "Times"; }@font-face { font-family: "Cambria"; }@font-face { font-family: "Chalkboard"; }@font-face { font-family: "Colonna MT"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }

POST #2

 “I can't say that I agree with the copyright laws or the definition of what is and is not fair use, but I am sure that the laws were set up with the best of intentions. Seventy to a hundred years seems excessive. …

“Creative Commons is like a flashing red light in the middle of the night. It doesn't mean you don't have to obey the law, it just adds a little common sense to the situation. Creative Commons is a good solution for all those concerned. Most of us want to share our work, but we don't want to be taken advantage of. CC makes it possible to share, but still retain some control over your work. It would be wonderful if more artists would voluntarily submit to this common sense approach.”

Dear Anne,

I’m surprised that I was surprised that we both wrote about intentions, not to mention our shared emphasis on common sense!  Leggis’ example of the farmers and the airplanes illustrated that our culture has developed in ways unfathomable to those original law-makers.  You’re right; the Creative Commons approach balances protection for the original artist with cultural and creative freedom for the artist who interacts with the original work. 

It’s so tempting to make the corporate music structure the villain here, but it’s an establishment that worked for everyone—artists, listeners, investors.  I have to confess to a deep pang of nostalgia when I saw the “Tower Records going out of business” sign!  Change is a force of nature—and this change in the accessibility of publication, from a years-long battle with infinitesimal chance of success to an instant exposure for anyone who can click a mouse, has been more like a tornado than a cleansing rain.  It’s understandable that the establishment would resist the onslaught, especially when the precipitousness of it gave little chance to recognize it and evolve.

      

But the kids have hacked into the system and set the stop light to blink in the middle of the night.  And the cops can instigate a big old manhunt… or they can acknowledge that the kids have got the clearer view, and withdraw with good grace.

:<)   Debra

@font-face { font-family: "Times"; }@font-face { font-family: "Cambria"; }@font-face { font-family: "Chalkboard"; }@font-face { font-family: "Colonna MT"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }

POST #2

 “I can't say that I agree with the copyright laws or the definition of what is and is not fair use, but I am sure that the laws were set up with the best of intentions. Seventy to a hundred years seems excessive. …

“Creative Commons is like a flashing red light in the middle of the night. It doesn't mean you don't have to obey the law, it just adds a little common sense to the situation. Creative Commons is a good solution for all those concerned. Most of us want to share our work, but we don't want to be taken advantage of. CC makes it possible to share, but still retain some control over your work. It would be wonderful if more artists would voluntarily submit to this common sense approach.”

Dear Anne,

I’m surprised that I was surprised that we both wrote about intentions, not to mention our shared emphasis on common sense!  Leggis’ example of the farmers and the airplanes illustrated that our culture has developed in ways unfathomable to those original law-makers.  You’re right; the Creative Commons approach balances protection for the original artist with cultural and creative freedom for the artist who interacts with the original work. 

It’s so tempting to make the corporate music structure the villain here, but it’s an establishment that worked for everyone—artists, listeners, investors.  I have to confess to a deep pang of nostalgia when I saw the “Tower Records going out of business” sign!  Change is a force of nature—and this change in the accessibility of publication, from a years-long battle with infinitesimal chance of success to an instant exposure for anyone who can click a mouse, has been more like a tornado than a cleansing rain.  It’s understandable that the establishment would resist the onslaught, especially when the precipitousness of it gave little chance to recognize it and evolve.

      

But the kids have hacked into the system and set the stop light to blink in the middle of the night.  And the cops can instigate a big old manhunt… or they can acknowledge that the kids have got the clearer view, and withdraw with good grace.

:<)   Debra