What if school systems were responsive enough to keep up with the pace of technology?

When it comes to my ability to integrate an online learning experience for my students into my courses, I don’t think my saga of frustrations and dead-ends is unique.  I have some good ideas (toward the end), but please indulge me in a bit of the saga first.

I have many goals for my teacher website(s):

• Ongoing communication with students and families.
• Making class handouts and notes available online.
• Building a learning community among my students:  online discussions, responses to each others’ work, using each others’ work as models, helping students to create digital products (podcasts, videos, blogs, etc.)
• Developing a sense of audience for students; showcasing their finished work for each other or publicly.
• Curating a resource for assessment and reflection. A whole collection of student work is  easily available for me to peruse.       

As you can see, at least for me, it is not enough to simply have my name and contact information posted on a school site. Nor is it enough to have a static, Web 1.0 web presence with my students.  We need a site that is responsive, collaborative, and interactive, and that allows students to consume, create and reflect on digital media.

Some districts may provide a platform for this kind of online classroom in every class; mine doesn’t.  We have technology, but it is not nimble enough to meet the demands I’ve listed above, goals which are perfectly reasonable and authentic given the digital environments in which many of our students work and play by choice, and given the world of academic and professional work they will be entering.  

I need to tell my story here, but I’m desperately afraid it will be long, rambling, full of frustrations you won’t want to re-live along with me.  Perhaps I can tell that story with a flowchart.  

 

Click here to view a flowchart of my experience developing an online learning environment.  I actually left out several steps.

Or click this link. 

Of course, now that I have learned Wikispaces and fully integrated it into my class, I am learning about others on campus who use Edmodo and other sites that have a much prettier interface, integrate Google Drive better, etc.  Unfortunately, I’ve already invested so much time in my clunky little wiki world that it’s too late.  I simply can’t shift my classroom community partway through the year.

So, finally, my proposal, my “What If?”

What if districts innovated ways to be responsive to teachers’ needs to use up-to-date web tools as part of their classroom communities?  We are not in a world in which districts can afford to have technology plans take multiple years to be implemented; teachers need the ability to use new tools judiciously as they see fit.  By the time those plans are implemented and teachers are trained, the tech has evolved beyond the original conception.

Here are some components of what I think such a nimble technology plan might include:

• Mini-grants to teachers of $200-$1000 for web-based technology needs.  Short form grant applications similar to the proces for applying for a field trip. Teachers could use these grants as needed to subscribe to podcasting sites or other web tools useful for their instructional goals.
• Tech support that includes teacher-leaders whose job is to assist classroom teachers in discovering, learning and implementing new technology tools to meet learning goals for students.
• Limited administrator access to our own laptops to load software such as printer drivers, updates to browsers, e-book software from the public library, etc.
• Ongoing training for teachers to make them aware of issues of privacy, security, ownership of digital products, copyright issues and other issues inherent in having students work online.
• Flexibility in blocking and unblocking sites for various levels of students or even specific groups of students for particular purposes.
• Development of student leadership and mentorship for tech tools.

Up-to-date hardware and software is only part of the issue, a sort of a minimal entry-level requirement for working with students in digital environments.  Teachers in classrooms have a unique vision of what we and our students need to create the digital environments that will efficiently enhance the learning in the classroom.  Empower us to make key decisions regarding how new online tools can help our students.  Students will learn these things quickly; except for those with very little exposure, they already do.  It is often schools and districts that slow them down.

 

 

Each year, when the AIMS test comes around, my colleagues and I sit in our required proctoring training session and wonder why our professional time is used to read aloud pre-printed scripts and keep time. This year, our school got creative and found a way to keep more teachers in their classrooms, teaching, during the main 10th grade AIMS sessions. The schedule disrupted some people’s instruction, but not the whole school’s, and many teachers continued teaching uninterrupted. Whew. Thanks to our AIMS coordinator for thinking outside the box.

But AIMS isn’t the only time that we are asked to carry out policy. An ongoing question that has been whittling away at my attention span is whether I am “the man” or whether my job is to teach students to “stick it to the man.” In other words, am I essentially an administrator of policy, particularly well-trained in the policies and curriculum that get students to do what they have to do to graduate and be a successful member of society? Am I a glorified bureaucrat? Or am I a revolutionary, a progressive facilitator of thought, helping students to transcend the boundaries of their daily lives and use their minds and imaginations to take them where they dream to go? Obviously, I favor the latter description, though clearly it is a lifetime ideal, and I celebrate when I see even glimpses toward that. However, if my goal is to be a progressive facilitator of thought, then I can’t help but be skeptical when I find myself using my professional time to pretty much babysit.

Remember, the game here is “What if?” A game of possibilities, not a game of finding reasons why not. In honor of assessment season, I ask: What if testing corporations provided trained proctors to administer standardized assessments that are imposed upon schools from without? Although standardized testing is taking a well-deserved beating, I can’t imagine that states and the feds will stop wanting to see the results of our educational systems in easily-digestible terms any time soon. Standardized assessments in one form or another will be around for a while. What if the companies who profit from these assessments sent personnel in to administer the tests? Why not? Alternately, what if students could take their standardized assessments, or even teacher-designed assessments for classes, in a school-provided testing center, a place where staff was paid or technology was used to proctor tests? 

With the time that teachers would normally use to administer tests or quizzes (which consists of walking around, making sure electronic devices and notes are put away, etc.) we could be having writing conferences with individual students, guiding groups through collaborative projects, leading book discussions with small groups, or developing unit plans collaboratively with colleagues. Or perhaps we could use the time to better connect with families about their childrens’ goals, successes, and challenges. Maybe we could even read a few papers, or perhaps strategize with students about individual learning needs. 

Technology is already being developed to administer various forms of assessmentsfor the newly popular MOOC’s, which some high schools are even offering for credit as independent study options (ask Eric Scheninger in New Milford, NJ about this). I believe that at his high school, students report out on their learning publicly, and authentic exhibitions of learning are more desirable than typical paper and pencil tests, but there are still moments when tests and quizzes provide an efficient way to get important data about students’ understanding of material. If there were a place on campus where exams could be securely proctored, then perhaps more students could use MOOC’s or other alternate forms of independent study to achieve high school elective credit, or even core credit, and discover areas of learning I never would have dreamt of as a teenager.
  
I suppose much of this is encompassed in the “flipped classroom” conversation already. In many ways, this conversation is tied to issues of teacher professionalism and teacher pay. Someone tweeted one day about how much time teachers spend fixing the copy machine. Proctoring standardized tests is similar: it doesn’t capitalize on our professional knowlege, really. It’s pretty mechanical. It doesn’t really help the students learn more or do better. But the bottom line is that right now, our time is so cheap, that our time is not honored. I highly doubt that most medical doctors or lawyers would be expected to check patients’ ID, run their insurance cards, process payment, or stand over their clients and patients as they fill out their paperwork. Their time is too valuable. Why isn’t ours?

On the other hand, I can see where the use of technology might in fact lead to more bureaucratization of teachers... especially if we are using our precious time to teach to flawed assessments.  Some of this might depend on what we do with standardized test results. Is there any hope that one day they might be seen as a snippet of a skewed snapshot of student learning? One potentially useful bit of data in a sea of critical and imaginative output? Part of the reason we become “the man” is the way our compliance is used against us, the way data is transformed into the portrait of a teacher and a group of children.

 

I often find myself reading an insightful educational article, having an eye-opening conversation with colleagues, attending educational events outside of school and learning a new perspective.   During such instances, I am pumped, motivated, and ready to change the world, one student at a time.  And, I am left to wonder why professional development opportunities don’t always make me feel as inspired.  Although our formal professional developments on our school sites get us thinking, I started to wonder what each of us do to learn even more.  Maybe what is presented to us is only to get us thinking; it is not to provide us with all the knowledge we need.

Most recently I saw a post on Facebook which stated teachers should receive some form of professional development for their time spent of Pinterest.  At first I laughed, but then upon reviewing my “Likes” on Facebook and my connections on LinkedIn, I thought this post might be on to something. 

We are in a new era of education.  We have social media and technology which brings learning to us in an instant.  I am sure we can all recall professional development opportunities at our school sites or districts in which we were looking at the ticking clock rather than the presenter.  Yet, there were others which caused us to start thinking about all of the ways we could apply our new knowledge.  But, I now know the responsibility lies with us.  We know there is never enough time, and presenters are left to pick and choose the most crucial information which is immediately applicable to the classroom.  So, as learners, we must also pick and choose what we will further investigate.  I choose to view professional development is a sample, a springboard.  Then, I must further choose what I will make meaningful for my students and me.  And now, with so many opportunities, we are free to learn, investigate, and apply at our leisure.  Now, to get Facebook, Pinterest, LinkedIn, and other online outlets to provide professional development hours for all of the time we spend on their sites attempting to make our pedagogy stronger.  One can only hope.

What is your professional development?  Or, better yet, how do you continue to develop yourself as a professional?

I remember watching baseball games in the 1980’s. I couldn’t tell if the Giants were playing in Pittsburgh, Cincinatti or Philadelphia. Every stadium was the same – a giant, donut-shaped behemoth meant for concerts, baseball games and football games. It was a one-size-fits-all mindset that ignored the nuances of the game.

Perhaps the worst of these stadiums was the Astrodome. Built in the sixties as a futuristic prototype of stadiums, it featured the world’s largest Jumbotron in the outfield and the trendiest yellow, orange and blue colors throughout. It was built with the sole focus of being innovative in an era of the Space Race. 

However, when the light blinded players, they painted the tiles and brought in Astroturf. This caused the grass to die, so they created Astroturf, an injury-inducing artificial surface. The fans had horrible sightlines. The stadium grew into a modernistic relic, because unlike truly modern architecture (say a Frank Lloyd Wright structure) the only guiding idea behind the stadium was innovation. The colors became laughable. The Jumbotron looked like an Atari system. I suppose it would now be cool in that hipster, ironic way. But in every other respect, the stadium became a joke.

So, it has me thinking about our donut-shaped behemoth schools systems. Some say we should crush them and build new places with iPads and Chromebooks and STEM centers. Think outside the box. Go futuristic. Be innovative. 

I wonder, though, if we are simply setting ourselves up for a new Astrodome. See, I don't want to think outside the box. I don't want to demolish school altogether and start out with something new. I want to repurpose the box. I want to redesign schools so that they fit the purpose of learning. I fear that in a world where we are rushing to abandon the factory, we are simply demolishing it and replacing it with a new factory. Call it an iFactory if you'd like.

My favorite ballparks are the ones designed with the baseball experience in mind. AT&T Park in San Francisco and Camden Yards in Baltimore come to mind. They are both high-tech without featuring tech as the driving force. There is an aesthetic and a purpose to the places that respects both the current context and the vintage past.

1. My dream for education is a little more like AT&T Park in San Francisco. Here’s what I mean: Respect the vintage while also thinking about the future: We need to recover nuance, paradox and a reconnection to the land. Some of the best ideas are vintage. Reformers need to be mindful that relevance is not the same as novelty. 
2. Open up the spaces: I’m struck by how open the best ball parks tend to be. Fenway and Wrigley fit this concept well. Why not open up the schools a little more? Create gardens. Allow for windows that open. Don’t tear down all walls, but maybe create some half-walls. 
3. Reconnect with the community: The newer ballparks open up to the community. They don’t feel as gated and guarded. You can see the beach or the skyline of the local community. They recover what Wrigley and Fenway have in common, in that sense of being nestled into the "neighborhood."  What if schools were more open? What if they fit the identity of the community? What if we had more mentors, guest speakers and community experts? 
4. Be intentional: My favorite stadiums are built, not as stadiums, but as ballparks. They are designed for the game. We need to rethink the purpose of education and design schools that fit the purpose of learning. I would love to see more integration between subjects, more projects, more problem-solving and more critical thinking. I’d like to see fewer tests, packets and homework. 
5. Embrace creativity: The best ballparks have creative dimensions. Whether it’s the Green Monster or the ivy-covered fences or the home run porch, there is something creative to the place that fits the identity. I would love to see schools thinking creatively about space, curriculum and instruction.

If we push for innovation alone, we end up with an embracing of a ever-fleeting novelty. We chase new ideas without asking the hard questions regarding sustainability (last year it was flipped and this year it's MOOCs). We ignore relevant voices of the past, the context of the present and the deeper purpose of learning in a reckless race to the be the trailblazers. 

I'd rather build a place that's meant for the community, that's built for the players and that makes the game enjoyable to be around again. 

Humor me by drifting down a little stream-of-consciousness here.  Tonight I realized I had missed my assigned day to post to this blog.  I looked at the assigned date, and laughed.  It was a day I had allowed myself to somehow believe I could simultaneously be at the AZK12 Ken Robinson book club (for the book Out of Our Minds: Learning to be Creative) and be at parent teacher conferences at school.  Had I somehow managed to get all three of my obligations onto my calendar, maybe I would have planned better.  But Sunday was spent on some freelance work that helps to supplement my teaching salary.  Saturday was chores.  Last week was a blur of grading frenzy after travel to a family wedding and in anticipation of parent conferences.  163 students is more than I’ve ever had in 17 years, and coming to terms with the obvious and subtle ways that shapes my teaching life is the subject of a whole other blog entry, but…

I am also highly distractable by nature (and maybe by caffeine).  Last year in the high school creative writing class I teach, I had several intensely creative students who inspired me to re-embrace reading and writing in my own personal life.  I rediscovered how much fun it was to just read and write… for fun, and to think and communicate.  Much of it I revised, sometimes intensively, and shared.  At any rate, I write almost daily now, for fun, and have a personal blog, which I was updating with wedding photos just about the time I realized I had better check my schedule here.

Being the distracted momteacher I am, during my freelancing work writing content for AP Language and Composition textbooks on Sunday, I began the following exchange on Facebook:

My Status:

 I want to be Annie Dillard.

"It is possible, in deep space, to sail on solar wind. Light, be it particle or wave, has force: you rig a giant sail and go. The secret of seeing is to sail on solar wind. Hone and spread your spirit till you yourself are a sail, whetted, translucent, broadside to the merest puff."

"I had been my whole life a bell, and never knew it until at that moment I was lifted and struck."
Annie Dillard

Comments:

Brilliant English Teacher Friend: Pilgrim at Tinker Creek is my favorite book ever. :)

September 16 at 8:37pm via mobile · Like

Amethyst Hinton Sainz I knew i liked you for some reason... :) P.S. tomorrow night is P/T conferences! Didn't realize the book club conflict until just now! Wah.

Monday at 6:10am · Like

Amethyst Hinton Sainz I keep coming back to Annie Dillard as a model for all I admire in good writing. She is the real ####. When I read her again after a long absence it's like coming home. Wish I could have her spiritual clarity!

Monday at 6:11am · Like

Brilliant English Teacher Friend: I sometimes dream of my own Tinker Creek or Waldon Pond. What must it be like to have nothing else to do but observe the world and write? *sigh*

I've been working -- quite literally -- all weekend. (Ok, I took time for dinner and a few episodes of "Arrested Development" with Peter last night.) Didn't even get time to crack open the Robinson book. I'm booked through this evening, too. I can't even keep up with a dang book club. When am I supposed to write?? :(

Monday at 6:14am · Like

Amethyst Hinton Sainz I can't keep up, either. What was I thinking joining a book club? What you do is you write with your students.

 

I somehow did manage to write with my students much of the time last year.  Somehow we all created a space for it, and it was a joy.  However, right now I’m writing for maybe 10 out of their total 45 writing minutes per week.  I need the time to finish prepping, getting work back to them… it’s tricky.  And the engagement strategy of open writer’s notebook time for 15 minutes a day doesn’t fit into the Common Core so well on its own merits.  But I feel justified because creative writing is an elective, and the kids need that space.

In our first, earlier, book group meeting about the creativity book, the conversation veered dangerously close to a stereotypical teacher lounge whine, and I know we all felt it.  It’s hard to vent our many frustrations without going there… it is a challenge to be continually solutions-oriented.  But in order to find solutions, problems must be thoughtfully identified.  Most of us there felt that in the schools where we worked, innovation was actually discouraged either by curriculum maps and pacing calendars, evaluation systems (especially the new emphasis on student achievement data), and largely by lack of time to jump off of the multitasking treadmill of our day and to think, dream, wander… and to be wrong.  In his well-known TED talk, Ken Robinson says “If you’re not prepared to be wrong, you’ll never discover anything original.”  I would add “If you’re swamped with attendance, e-mails, planning, grading, testing, and meeting individual student needs….”

I don’t have a lovely metaphor to pull this one together.  All I know is that before I started writing this, I set out on Google to see if I could find the source of that oft-used-in-powerpoints graph that shows the yearly cycle of teacher morale.  That yearly cycle hits a low, if I remember correctly, around October 18, excatly a month off from* the day which I now realize I was supposed to be at a professional book group on creativity, be meeting with parents, and posting a blog entry about how policy meets practice.  This after a weekend of nine hours writing multiple choice questions for extra pay, and earning much more per hour producing educational materials than I earn after 17 years of teaching those materials. 

I did not find the research I sought, but I found a slew of articles from last spring saying that teacher morale was at an all time low.  Perhaps I can wrangle this wayward reflection back to the idea that one contributing factor to low teacher morale is that so many of us are frustrated on a creative level.  We need time to sharpen the saw, read a book, write poetry, observe our own Waldens, and figure out what we really think.  Many of us are killing ourselves reaching for that. And the fact that I ignored my own children’s bickering and bedtime resistance to write this only adds the last touch of evidence to my meandering argument tonight.

*We started school earlier, so I'm chalking my early visit to low-morale land up to that.  

A non-teacher friend asked me an intriguing question the other day regarding reading. "Do you think we should use flashcards on the iPad or go old school?" I found my answer after reading Lane Smith's board book, It's a Little Book.  

Quick book summary:  Monkey is reading a book and his donkey friend does not know what a book is or its purpose. The donkey goes through a list asking if the book can text, email, tweet, blog, scroll or is wi-fi capable. Monkey states repeated no's, hands donkey the book, donkey reads a little, and still thinks it has to be charged at the end. 

The board book ends with "It's a book, silly," but the hardcover states it more clearly. "It's a book, jackass. "

Oh, Technology.

Funny? Yes. Scary? Yes. Sure, Smith's book is perhaps what the future holds for many of our students, but what about those who didn't understand the book after it was read in class because digital tablets and computers aren't plugged in at their house? Is technology another component that widens the success gap in education? It can be. 

As teachers we focus on grade-level mastery in reading, math, science, and writing skills, but does the 21st Century skill of technology and its endless components make the cut in a classroom with one computer for 30 students? No, it doesn't. I can provide pencils and Post-Its, but my hoarder ways cannot pull off computers. I'm left with many questions. 

• Will it make a difference if my students read books without swiping a screen to turn pages? 
• How do I provide equal opportunities with technology in my classroom with limited resources?
• Can access to technology tools serve as a means to gain educational advantages or hurt in the end? Is a student more likely to go to college because they have had more access to technology?
• How do we help parents use technology as a teaching tool and not as a babysitter?

 Have any answers? Old school or iPad?

With the seven tabs open on my computer, I notice another "1 new Tweet" sign popped up. I switch over from the EdWeek blog to see a retweet from @nancyflanagan. 

I have carefully placed a portable mirror in my closet to see my toddler playing with the odds and ends of what makes its way in there. Hey, this set-up allows me some time to stay in the loop.  Oh, what we do to stay connected.

Another ding. This time an email from my principal. What to do: try on the sixth pair of shoes the little one has brought me or click on the email?

It is really easy to stay out of the loop. We have priorities. During this beginning of the school year time, most of our priorities tend to focus on what we have planned for the classroom and not what is being said about it. I say now is the best time to reevaluate those priorities and include be informed if it is not already on your list.

Since you have ten minutes right now, check one of these three sites out or sign up for a Twitter account.  Tomorrow click on another site and find 5 people to follow on Twitter. The next day, the same. You see where I'm going with this. 

It is part of our job to stay informed about the policy issues surrounding education. I have found so many blogs from connections made on Twitter with people I have never met.  I must say I probably follow people who share the same educational beliefs as me, but my goal is to connect with the other side.  Why? I want to see where they come from since they are the people who mostly driving me crazy with policy issues.  

• Well, you are off to a great start since you're already reading Stories from School Arizona.  Try our friends in the Northwest.
• I could spend a crazy half hour reading Diane Ravitch's blog. 
• Fellow SFSAZ blogger John Spencer has another blog.
• Once you have a Twitter account, look into chats using hashtags.

I'm trying my best to stay in the loop, so please help and suggest some more.  We need to share these resources and make change.

 

I read Bill Ferriter's blog this week about the story of Mitchell 20, a movie about 20 Phoenix elementary teachers who chose to pursue National Board certification as a way to take control of the one thing they could control: the quality of their instruction. In his blog, Ferriter summarizes the movie as a collective recognition that "waiting for Superman is a strategy that is failing our students." Instead of this one-superheroed-approach, Ferriter proposes that "super powers really do rest somewhere deep within each teacher."

Kudos Bill: this Arizona edu-blogger agrees on all counts. I attended the Phoenix premier of the movie last week and, though our Superintendent of Public Instruction erroneously referred to the group of teachers as "The Wilson 20," there were plenty of positive references to the internal motivation and "spark" that keeps super-hero teachers in our classrooms - in spite of out of touch politicians and/or public vilification of the profession.

Daniela Robles, the heroine in the film, said something during the panel discussion after the movie that really struck me. She said, "It takes one person to cause a spark that sets a fire."

Since superheroes are thematically connected to education these days, I immediately thought of the AllSpark in the Transformers movies (insert 4-count break and theme song music here). Though Megatron-like current educational trends want teachers to be "robots in disguise," teachers really are more than meets the eye - and the story of the Mitchell 20 demonstrates that. First generation Transformers fans know that the AllSpark is best defined as, "that indefinable, indescribable energy that makes them truly alive, more than mere machines."

But what *is* that AllSpark for teachers and how can we help protect them from the Educational Megatrons and Decepticons of today and tomorrow? Maybe we should be education Transformers instead of "reformers?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On October 5, 2011, Steve Jobs co-founder of Apple passed away.  Media coverage of his death focused on his talents as a visionary and innovator.  The discussion around his death and his legacy made me wonder what education could learn from Steve Jobs.

 

 

Below are a list of Steve’s Tips for Success:

1. Do what you love-don’t settle, passion is everything.                  

2. Put a dent in the universe.

3. Say no to a thousand things.

4. Kick start your brain by doing something new.

5. Sell dreams, not products.

6. Create insanely great experiences.

7. Master the message.

He also said,  “Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma – which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice”.

I wonder what might happen if we stole some of Steve’s ideas and applied them to the educational landscape?

 

Last week I received an email that made me chuckle.  Apparently, Banned Website Awareness Day is spreading across the web.  Educators nationwide are arriving at work everyday to find that they can no longer access websites that support their classroom instruction and communication with students and families.

Blocked sites vary from school district to district, among the blocked sites are Wikispaces, Ning, Glogster, CNN, History Channel, National Geographic, Google Docs, Dropbox, Teacher Tube, YouTube, Twitter, Facebook and various blog sites.  The policy of filtering these sites inhibits teachers from fully meeting the needs of Digital Natives and 21^st Century learning.

Students in classrooms today have never experienced life without the Internet, it is their primary source for communication, information and exploration; except at school.  Schools are often zones of Internet isolation with students having limited time and exposure to digital technologies.  It is the equivalent of living in two countries, crossing the border each day and having to speak two languages.  The students in America’s classrooms speak “Digital”.  Teachers are too often speaking “Pre Digital” and the two conflicting ideologies about digital technologies, cause students to tune out.   This clash of cultures leaves many students disconnected, frustrated and uninterested in school.  

Teachers maximizing the use of technology are also frustrated by these policies, they may spend hours uploading plans, resources and images to a site for classroom use only to discover without warning that they can no longer access that material from their classrooms.  While some school districts have procedures for unblocking sites, busy teachers seldom have time to tackle the layers that are required to gain access to sites, some teachers have reported needing to write lengthy rationales that include lesson plans with timeframes just to have sites unblocked for a couple of days. Teachers frequently give up and revert to using less effective methods of teaching. 

Learning how to use websites responsibly and effectively must become a priority; policies need to be adjusted to support teachers as they model and teach students appropriate uses for digital technologies.

The irony in all of this is that students know how to bypass most blocked sites and the teachers end up being “blocked” from using better means to teach.