Beyond School

On Blogging in the Late Weimar Republic

Crisis? What Crisis?

Reading the headlines of Alltop.com’s “top education” sites‘¹ brings to mind the cover of the old Supertramp album, showing a man sunning himself in a bathing suit on a lounge chair, surrounded by grimy industrial waste. The album’s title? “Crisis? What Crisis?”

Economically, American banking deregulation has dragged the US, and the rest of the world, into a crisis creating comparisons to Depression Year 1937.

Politically, the McCain/Palin campaign is whipping up hatred that makes such sober and respected political commentators as conservative David Gergen openly express fear that civic violence could be the result – and others worry that the unthinkable return to political assassination is now possible.

Meanwhile, the Bush administration continues its assault on the constitution by violating the 200-year-old law of Posse Comitatus, which protects US citizens from being oppressed by their own military, by deploying an Army Brigade to police American streets, and be answerable only to him. Soldiers disobeying, say, an order to arrest members of Congress, or citizens protesting Wall Street, would be court-martialed and serve prison time for serving their democracy instead of their dictator.

And Sarah Palin, the naughty librarian (who can’t name anything she reads, and who may as well gyrate while she winkingly chants “Drill, Baby, Drill”) doesn’t care about the causes of global warming – a position I’m sure would not be shared, could we ask them, by the 25% of mammals now endangered worldwide.

Everything is Political – Except Edubloggers?

So how many education bloggers show the slightest indication, on their blogs, that they find addressing these crises worth “suspending their edublogging campaigns”?

Answer: a whopping 17 – out of the 130 blogs with over 600 posts on Alltop’s education page.

So without further ado,

The “I Didn’t Wordle as Rome Burned” Award

1. The Chancellor’s New Clothes (Our Political Role Models: recommended)
2. Iterating Towards Openness (Scary Sarah: recommended)
3. ODonnell Web (McCain’s hate speech: recommended)
4. History is Elementary (close reading of rescue bailout bill: recommended)
   
5. Borderland (always recommended)
6. Stephen Downes’ OLDaily (economy: recommended)
7. Joanne Jacobs (on Ayers as still-revolutionary)
8. NYC Educator (McCain’s anger issue)
9. Piloted (teaching campaigning)
   
10. My Wonderful World Blog (foreign policy debate)
    
11. Assorted Stuff (on This American Life’s Wall Street podcasts)
    
12. Facing History and Ourselves (educating about campaigning)
    
13. Factchecked (gasoline as political issue)
14. Education Week (Ayers smear)
15. ASCD: In Service (education debate)
16. The Fischbowl (debates 2.0)
17. MindOH Blog (vote)

A Maverick’s Plea for Reform

I’m aware of the many reasons that educators might not openly advocate their political views. I can only hope it’s ye olde self-censoring fear for your jobs that causes this silence, instead of indifference or worse.

All I know is, for this month at least, there are more important things to spend time on than writing about classroom blogging policies, PLNs, global collaborations, Moodles and Nings and Wordles.²

A bit of reading on the Weimar Republic’s failure, and replacement by a famous military dictatorship in the midst of an economic and military crisis – accompanied by extreme racism – might be a good place to start.

I’ve also enabled Diigo to post my daily bookmarks and annotations here. I’m on sabbatical this year, so decided to share what I have time to read. Feel free to check out my Stumbleupon bookmarks too.

I hate feeling like some silly Cassandra.

But I’d hate even more to be one of the Trojans who laughed at her.

~     ~     ~

1. and we all know what a debatable claim that “top” is [↩]
2. Anyway, haven’t they all been written into the ground by now? [↩]

“Piper, sit thee down and write
In a book that all may read!”
So he vanished from my sight,
And I plucked a hollow reed,

And I made a rural pen,
And I stained the water clear,
And I wrote my happy song,
Every child may joy to hear.
–William Blake, Songs of Innocence

“And I stained the water clear”: look at that line a few times, and see the beauties of that exquisitely ambiguous modifier, “clear.”  It’s a line to cherish.¹ And it has to do with the thoughts below – after which, in the next post, we’ll get to an also exquisite sacred sex scene (and I’d like to call it a love scene to avoid the appearance of sensationalism, but it’s not a love scene) from Gilgamesh, along with laughs, I hope, about trying to teach it to today’s teens, in today’s classrooms. But first, an interlude:

When “Corrupting the Youth” is Good

“Good people” can be dangerous.

Socrates and Jesus, for example, in the eyes of the “good people” of their times,  were both criminals. ² They were criminals because they challenged those good people’s conventional views of religion, of the sacred, of moral right and wrong.

How do you know?

They both attacked the gods of their day. Socrates questioned both the truth and the righteousness of the Olympians; and Jesus (though less consistently) similarly questioned the teachings and the righteousness of the Hebrew priests and the “good” church mosque temple-going Christians Muslims Jews around him.  Both were reviled by the good people back then, and both paid with their lives for the same “sin”: critical thinking. The good Athenians killed Socrates with poison, the good Hebrews – the Romans, actually – killed Jesus on the cross.³

Today, we do well to revere Socrates and Jesus for pushing human thought forward.  We would also do well, though, to see their examples as reminders of something else we tend to forget: namely, that good people of any age often appear, in historical hindsight, to be the opposite of good. Again, good people – pious people – killed these two men.

Socrates today is held up to students as the model of that practice called “critical thinking.”  But in his own day, that very act, critical thinking, led to criminal charges against him for this :  “Corrupting the young by teaching new gods.”

Look at that. Socrates was killed why?  Because the adults in his society didn’t like the questions he was entertaining with their kids – about religion.  He was killed for asking, around young people, what we all see as a common sense question today – “Why do we believe in Zeus?”⁴

As a teacher who loves common sense, finds it less common than we think, and loves the idea of giving more of it than of grammar to the young in my classrooms, that story has always made me nervous.

I love critical thinking for many reasons, but the biggest one is this: it requires, always, an honest awareness in the thinker that he or she may be wrong.  Socrates, while less a hero of mine due to recent readings I’ve done about his politics, still wins my respect with this classic one-liner:

I only know that I know nothing.

Scientists understand the wisdom of that statement, and so do philosophers.  Priests and their “good people” followers, though, show no understanding of this wisdom. They assert truth-claims without evidence, and worse, they attack modern-day versions of Socrates and Jesus for thinking critically about their beliefs.

Schools are very bad places for a teacher to promote critical thinking about anything important.  The cliché “critical thinking” in schools is only allowed for safe subjects – an oxymoron I’ve mentioned many times in these pages.  Touch a subject that will offend a single parent or student, and your job is at stake.  That’s why so many classes are so boring.  They refuse to acknowledge the many elephants in the room, or to state that the emperor is wearing no clothes – especially when it comes to whichever god and flag are flying above your country.

And that’s why so many types of hugely influential beliefs that make no sense persist today.  Kids go through twelve years of school without those beliefs ever being touched by a serious question, they graduate, and bam: the beliefs live on for yet another generation: Bush really is communicating with God, while in the same universe, Bin Laden, in another country’s school system, really is obeying the Word and will of Allah.  McCain and Obama consent to be interviewed on national TV with Rick Warren, and thus legitimize a man whose ministry supported a “Left Behind” video game in which post-Rapture Christians kill non-Christians on the streets of New York – and they’re the good guys.  To question these things is not important?

I say it is. We see the Crusades of the 11th Century  being re-played now in the 21st.  Maybe questioning will reduce their chances of continuing into the fourth millennium, if we make it that far.

*    *    *

Critical Thinking as a Litmus Test

Reading the comments on my last post (the first Gilgamesh essay), and of the people who also commented on it on StumbleUpon,⁵ it occurs to me that critical thinkers serve as litmus tests for the people who disagree with them.  They fall into two categories:  those who challenge the thinking, and thus pass the test and prove themselves fellow critical thinkers; and those who attack the thinker instead of the ideas, and thus fail the test and show themselves to be non-critical thinkers, like the poisoners and crucifiers of old. Thank goodness free speech is now protected by law.

If the first Gilgamesh “lecture” had happened in a classroom instead of here, those non-critical thinkers would have been demanding my resignation – because they don’t want their children to think beyond what they, the parents, believe. ⁶ It’s funny how parents don’t care if their kid goes more deeply into, say, math than them; that’s fine. But have my kid go more deeply – and more critically – into religion than I ever did?  Into politics and my country’s history?  That’s a different beast altogether.  As a rule, parents aren’t okay with that at all.

So that’s the challenge to critical thinking in so many of our classrooms today, and a reason for its boredom-inducing absence. If only teachers felt secure in speaking their minds, there could be incredible discussions in classrooms.

And for the record: I share my questions about sacred cows not because I delight in doing “ee-vil.”  We may as well accuse Socrates, Jesus, Buddha, Martin Luther, Copernicus, Voltaire, Darwin, Ghandi, Martin Luther King, and millions of other reformists dead and alive of “loving evil” for imagining – and speaking of – better visions of the Good or more sensible versions of the True.

I share these questions because first, I love asking them; second, it’s my way of supporting others who are asking them; and third, imperfect as all of us are, I believe these questions have vital value for happiness, intelligence, well-being, and, um, education. In my eyes, as much as your preachers or your parents, I am trying to do good. I’m just doing it by my own lights, instead of by the teachings of childhood.  I left those teachings long ago, by reading more than the preachers showed me. (I also discovered, in the cult of the early Christian leader Valentinus, an extinct version of Christianity I actually admire. It’s almost Buddhist. See Princeton religious historian Elaine Pagels’ eye-opening, and very readable, Beyond Belief: The Secret Gospel of Thomas for more.)

How can we think? Magic-based science (Creation Museum, Kentucky, USA)

And then there’s the issue of fairness. Millions of preachers clog the airwaves daily with their claims. Creationists attack science and infest science classrooms and textbooks.  It’s only fair that equal time is given to those of us who want to challenge them with critical thinking.

My last point:  Critical thinking can “corrupt the youth” on one condition: that youth fail to think critically themselves, as they read.  As long as the young think – chew – before swallowing this, or any, adult’s words, they’re not “corrupted” at all. No matter what those adults say.

I don’t know if any of this helped “stain the waters clear.”  I hope it did.

*    *    *

Now on to more fun with Gilgamesh, one of the wisest and – in the “sacred sex” scene that is the next post’s topic, also one of the most beautiful – books I’ve ever read.

Wait a minute. It just hit me.  My god, I’m about to discuss the oldest sex scene in the history of mankind.  Not a bad way to spend an evening.

It should be up in a day or two.

Please keep the comments critical, and thanks for doing that in such a friendly way in the first post.  And sorry for the length.  This was no fun to write, but I had to get it out.

–

Photo credits: Human Questions by AmberflyKezzie ; Creation Museum by rauchdickson

1. See the word as an adverb modifying “stained.” [↩]
2. They were both considered something like “bums” by the good people too – Socrates wore tatty clothes, Jesus was a homeless guy – but that’s a different story. [↩]
3. Since this crucifixion episode, by the way, has been used to justify Christian Antisemitism and the slaughter of Jews for over a thousand years, I have to add this point to keep my conscience clean: Jesus may not have been crucified at all; he may not, in fact, have ever lived at all, according to many serious scholars. (A comprehensive discussion of the evidence is laid out, among many other places, in a long chapter of The Pagan Christ: Is Blind Faith Killing Christianity?, by ex-minister and professor of New Testament Greek Tom Harpur, who seems to want to radically reform Christianity the way Jesus, if he did exist, wanted to radically reform Judaism.)  It’s a fascinating question for those who care to think critically about important things. If it’s true, after all, that means the Jews were framed and persecuted by the Christians for an execution that never happened, and that American voters today are electing leaders on the basis of faith in a phantom. [↩]
4. It goes deeper than this, really, since many used it as a pretext for other grudges. But the interesting thing is that this pretext still held in a court of law, and it’s what he was convicted and killed for: teaching common sense. [↩]
5. and for the record, as I’ve already said, I agree that the tone in that post is lame at times, and will work on that, and find such feedback helpful, when polite [↩]
6. My own resignation was demanded once by a pair of parents – from a long line of preachers – for including the ideas of Bishop Spong as a contemporary descendant of Martin Luther in a history unit about the Reformation. Maybe I’ll tell that full story one day. Right now, I’ll just say that my assistant principal at the time commendably held firm and told them they were free to leave. Instead, they pulled their son from my class and put him with another teacher.  No chance he think beyond his parents’ beliefs that way. [↩]

[Since my students just finished reading Nabokov's Lolita, I thought I'd give their responses to the notion that it shouldn't be taught in upper secondary. This is the third in the Why We Should Teach Lolita in High School series. See Number One here, Number Two here, with many interesting comments. If you want to comment, please read those posts - especially the comments - first. The 21st century, social media/web 2.0 context is important here.] Just one for the Long Tail: I posted the question below in a forum to my AP Literature students – all 17-18-year-olds, all, except one, ethnic Korean but Westernized anglophones:

I blogged about teaching this novel, and my readers were split on whether AP Lit students should be allowed to read it. What do you think? Should it be banned from high school “college level” literature classes? Why or why not?

Below is every response in the forum, in the order they were posted. I didn’t cherry-pick, and I only removed names. All said AP Lit students should be allowed to read it; two suggested making an alternate available for those uncomfortable with the premise; one expressed discomfort (not as bad a thing in a classroom as it could be elsewhere). Several addressed the benefit of exposure to this before they hit it in solitude in college. And many were plain puzzled that people think the book is any worse than nighttime television or movies. (A few made me scratch my head. Follow-up discussion time approaches.)

It just seemed right to put their voices here. Here they are:

Student Responses to Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita:

3.1. I don’t think it should be banned. There is nothing to ban about really. I don’t understand why we have to protected from great literary works just because it has inappropriate concepts like sex. I think AP Lit students should be definitely allowed to read it though I’m not so sure about just the general seniors or other grades that aren’t mature to handle it. It really depends on the maturity level and how the students can handle that inside a classroom. Besides, for AP classes, which are supposed to be “college prerequisite” classes, should be handling students that are ready to take the advanced material for college and should level up to the college level. Out of the shell, I say.

More under the fold . . .

Read the rest of this entry »

Extending my last post on why I think Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita should be required reading at some point in high school language arts classes:

In Sophocles’ Oedipus the King, Oedipus kills his father, then marries and impregnates his mother: we teach this parricidal, incestuous, antique “classic” to 14-year-olds.

In Shakespeare’s Hamlet, the prince’s uncle murders his brother and marries that brother’s wife, enjoying her in “incestuous sheets“: again, we teach this 400-year-old Renaissance “classic” to 15-year-olds.

And let’s not forget the sentimental favorite about a 12-year-old whose father is trying to marry her off to a prize bachelor of at least 25, and in which instead the 12-year-old heroine elopes with her maybe 14-year-old lover, and spends a night of tender love-making a few paces away from her iconic balcony. Their pillow-talk the morning after their love-making is something we have 13-year-olds recite by the millions in our annual, usually painful, front-of-the-classroom recital days. Yes, I’m talking about Romeo and Juliet. Juliet would be a middle-schooler today – and her father would be in jail for pandering her to his cellmate Paris, the noble pedophile.

In Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita, a 40-year-old pedophiliac professor of literature marries an over-sexed 12-year-old’s mother, who shortly thereafter dies in a freak accident, plunging the professor and the 12-year-old in a morbid love affair that ruins both their lives. Often brutal, as often tender, more often laugh-out-loud funny, but never vulgar or graphic, this acknowledged masterpiece and “classic” of modern, 20th century literature – “the only convincing love story of our [20th] century,” according to Vanity Fair – sends educators running for the hills.

It’s a tragic irony and a very telling double standard: teach controversy from old, safely removed times? No problem. (Well, maybe just skim over Paris’ age, Juliet’s loss of virginity, Oedipus’ and Gertrude’s incest.) But teach the same issues about modern schoolgirls? No, no, no. That hits too close to the real world. Let them learn about that, if at all, from their sensationalistic prime-time TV’s at home: To Catch a Predator, anyone? School is not the place for unsafe subjects. We only think critically about safe ones here.

That we should think about these subjects in our classrooms – our young females, in particular, but our young males too, as is shown below – can be supported by a few statistics (USA only):

• Teens 16 to 19 were three and one-half times more likely than the general population to be victims of rape, attempted rape or sexual assault.
• According to the Justice Department, one in two rape victims is under age 18; one in six is under age 12.
• While 9 out of 10 rape victims are women, men and boys are also victimized by this crime. In 1995, 32,130 males age 12 and older were victims of rape, attempted rape or sexual assault.
• Nationally, nearly one million young women under age 20 become pregnant each year. That means close to 2800 teens get pregnant each day.
• Approximately 4 in 10 young women in the U.S. become pregnant at least once before turning 20 years old.
• In the U.S., 1 in 4 sexually active teens become infected with an STD every year.

Some comments from my last post, and from the thread on Bud Hunt’s post that splintered this discussion (not your fault, Bud – you asked them to come here), give us some main reasons we choose to be (un?)witting accomplices to daily contemporary tragedies by only teaching the ancient, irrelevant ones. PaulC, who started the meme, commented:

Do I want to take a chance and have the Parents’ Club down my neck for teaching an ‘inappropriate’ novel? The principal has enough fires to put out.

Of course, the censorship debate arises occasionally for many different reasons, sometimes over trite reasons. It’s worthwhile to take a stand, but is it worth it for the study of Lolita? For that reason I think the novel should be left for post secondary study.

As the above statistics show, the damage is too often done by the time of “post-secondary study.” The principal might be enjoying a no-alarm day in the fire department, the parent enjoying a nice day in denial-land, and the teacher enjoying a nice cool neck, but at what cost to the latest quiet statistic sitting at one of the classroom desks, trying to make sense of this thing that happened last night, and that her school never warned her about in the daytime? This latest example of “fear and irrelevance in education” gives one tragically twisted twist to the term “hidden curriculum.” (Update: But Paul, I hear you: other ways than Lolita exist to educate about this – but are principals and parents using any ways at all, by and large?)

Charlie Roy gives an interesting angle in his comment, largely sympathetic to the idea of teaching the realities of over-flirtatious teens playing with fire and getting burned by unseemly adults via Lolita, when he writes,

I don’t think Lolita would fly at my school. At far as age appropriateness goes it is a hard one to nail. Some argue adolescence has been extended into the early 30’s. If that is the case then it might be an inappropriate read.

I can only respond that, if adolescence is now delayed into our 30’s, as Charlie states, isn’t that because schools perpetuate the situation by infantilizing teens? (See Dr. Robert Eptstein’s The Case Against Adolescence: Rediscovering the Adult in Every Teen)

New York librarian and teacher Diane Cordell nails an irony by now cliche, but no less pernicious, about American “family values,” I want to say, when she comments:

Re. teaching Lolita: about 5 years ago, our HS (grades 11-12) English teacher used “In Cold Blood” as the basis of a class unit. The principal asked me to find examples of other schools using this book, and I did so. No parents objected to the choice of text. When we get back from Spring Break, I’ll ask the present teacher and our HS principal what the reaction would be if “Lolita” were listed as required reading. I can almost guarantee that murder would be deemed more suitable subject matter than sex!

–and Corrie Bergeron, the “crunchy conservative” foil to my own more liberal viewpoint, does the conservative view a good deed with this bit of fresh air:

5th graders are having sex. 1 in 4 American teen girls has an STD. (1 in 2 if she’s African-American.) Not that this is a good thing, but it’s reality, today. Literature deals with the human condition, makes it accessible, gives you a proxy to explore ideas. A safe place to talk about things without getting too personal.

Teach Lolita in high school? Maybe not such a bad idea.

Oh-and-by-the-way… worldview-wise, I have a fair amount in common with the Puritans. But ignorance makes poor armor.

Meanwhile, over on Bud’s offshoot from my post, Joe, a principal, weighs in against my view:

Clay – we are public servants. We work for an elected school board, under the twin rubrics of the state and federal governments. You said: “I shouldn’t have to ask a parent’s permission to teach it any more than I do to have students read James Joyce, Huck Finn, or D.H. Lawrence.” I disagree with that line of thought for the potential pitfalls it could cause. We have an adopted curriculum for a reason. A process exists. Obviously you have a set of values that are important to you. I have a set of values that are important to me. I can almost garuntee that you would not want some of my personal views taught in the classroom. Public education should not be a free for all!

Miguel Guhlin joins the discussion over there with too many interesting lines for me to snatch, but this remark is noteworthy for a connection I want to make to Joe’s, above:

Far better the teacher who, like the local Fireman’s Halloween Haunt House, enjoys the trust of the community that nothing found in that House will be judged objectionable by anyone….

–and that connection, namely, has to do with notions of democracy, and of “public values.” With all due respect, Joe’s invocation of public education being no space for a “free for all,” no place for conflicting “values” to come under the scrutiny of critical thought and inquiry, just strikes me as un-democratic. Miguel’s ideal of ideas not “judged objectionable by anyone” seems (though I think unintentionally) similarly contrary to what democracy is. The public, to state the obvious, consists of wildly divergent and often conflicting viewpoints. If nobody finds an idea objectionable, then how relevant and engaging – at least in a humanities classroom – is that idea? And why are we devoting time to safe ideas, when the health of a democracy consists of citizens informed about those uncomfortable but real controversies demanding civic resolution? Those viewpoints can, and I would argue should, in a healthy democracy, receive scrutiny and debate in our schools. That authentic critical thinking is the remedy for the biases and prejudices that plague every democracy.

Joe, I would argue, mistakes indoctrinating students – teacher teaching what to think – with teaching students to think. Uncomfortable? Yes. But so is the uncritical, prejudiced alternative. And call me idealistic, but the possibility now, with online forums and other ways to include parents and communities in classroom debates about real-worldly issues instead of unreal schooly ones – that possibility, to me, points to schools as true centers of learning, not just for students, but for communities.

Back to Lolita. Most people, first of all, probably haven’t read it, and so are arguing from a position of misinformation, at best, or at worst, of ignorance. I just finished it for the fourth or fifth time. It is every bit as disturbing as it was the first time. It shows the dangerous consequences of young girls not conscious of the effects of their fashions and attitudes; it shows how deceptively normal and respectable pedophiles can be; it uses no curse words, no vulgarities, and generally does not dwell on carnal scenes. More interestingly, though, its fictional editor, in the preface, claims the novel contains a “moral apotheosis,” while Nabokov himself, in the cagey Afterword, claims his novel has no moral at all. That contradiction alone opens up a discussion.

And in the meantime, our students, increasingly out there blogging and tweeting and face(book)ing the ever-more-porous public world, are learning, in the safety of a modern classic, a few lessons that might save them from becoming an addition to the statistics above.

I suppose I could stick to the safe, and teach them to identify oxymorons so they get higher SAT scores. But I’d rather help them learn not to be world-ignorant morons period. Significantly, the word “moron,” according to my Leopard dictionary, originated in “the early 20th century (as a medical term denoting an adult with a mental age of about 8–12): from Greek mōron, neuter of mōros ‘foolish.’” We can keep ignoring the realities of life after age 12 in our schools at our own – and our students’ – peril.

The funny thing? My students are a matter of months away from being legal adults. Doesn’t that underline how weird it is to treat them like children until the very last minute of their minority? And doesn’t that set them up to be quite the naive young adults when they walk, all vulnerable, into the real world after graduation? It’s all so unreal – and we’re talking schools here, so that’s hardly surprising – but sheesh, it’s bewilderingly surreal.

Photo by macropoulos

{Update 15 April: After reading this and the comments, be sure to read this follow-up post and the comments there. Interesting stuff in those comments.]

Constance incarnate Diane Cordell tagged me for this literature-themed meme begun by Paul C. at quoteflections. It’s a fun one for me, for a couple of reasons. But first, here are the rules

• Select and briefly review one teen novel, classic or modern, which is a sure antidote to the daze of high school.
• Title your post Meme: High School Daze to Praise.
• Include an image with your post.
• Tag four blogger colleagues.

Why Fun #1: I Think I Wrote This Blurb Years Ago (A Pedagogical Parable)

Before I started blogging, I piddled around in an AP Literature list-serv. I wrote a little post to share with other teachers there, and somebody emailed me and asked me if he could add it to his Huck Finn resources site, because he liked it. Why fun? It was the first time anybody (outside of a teacher or somebody I’d written emails or letters to) ever noticed my writing. It was only around five years ago, so I find it both pedagogically pregnant and psychologically cute that I, a 40-year-old professional literature teacher, spent the rest of the day floating a couple inches above the earth like the tooth fairy had just slipped a million under his pillow. Somebody out there in the world plucked something I did with words, and told me it had value.

Do I have to spell it out? Phi Beta Kappa (okay, from a state university, but still , Magna Cum Laude (is that supposed to be capitalized?), Yadda Academy Yadda – all those “honors” didn’t hold a candle to this simple act of spontaneous recognition by a real reader whose bizness wasn’t grading what I wrote. When I saw the little thing posted on his website, I felt like maybe I could try being a Writer.

And this is why at least our excellent student writers should be blogging. End of Parable.

Now here’s the funny part: I searched for the Twain website that housed my little (weedy) rose, and it’s gone to Website Heaven, I guess. I couldn’t find it on Google, anyway (and yes, I tried Wayback Machine). But I searched a little more, and found this:

Some Passed-Over Classics
Rule Of The Bone, by Russell Banks

Arguably one of the funniest books in recent history. A contemporary retelling of Huck Finn, Banks has turned Huck (named Bone) into a 14 year-old stoner from upstate New York, who drops out of high school and eventually meets the Jim character (called the I-Man) who is a 40 year-old Rastaman living in an abandoned school bus in Plattsburg, NY. Together they make a pilgrimage to Jamaica where Bone believes his father is living, and where I-Man can resume his life as marijuana dealing shaman. Although the premise might sound a bit sophomoric, the story so neatly and creatively translates Twain’s classic into the modern world that you can’t help finding the time to read the whole thing in a day or two.

Why do I find this funny? Because the author is not attributed, and I’m not sure if it’s what I wrote – but I’m almost positive it is. If it’s not, is this plagiarism? You tell me.

I also find this interesting because of the name and thrust of this meme: “From High School Daze to Praise.” If I get that thrust right, it’s aimed at how soporific most assigned, schooly novels are for students (for students, mind you) who are living today and reading things their grannies read – and would still “morally” approve – in high school. Sanitized by either time or content, the novels we feel safe assigning are the ones that steer us clear of the rocks of parental complaint. Graphic depictions of sex? Challenges to Church or State (it’s okay if it’s a challenge to another country’s state, by the way)? We want to keep our job, so we keep these novels out of our students’ hands. And the upshot of this schooly bowdlerization of the taboo-probing nature of literature at its most powerful is this: “High School Daze,” to quote the meme. The students switch off of literature and switch on to pop culture, letting Marilyn Manson or Tupac, Quentin Tarentino or the Daily Show fill the shoes that real literature could fill for them. The Banks novel above? It’s a real depiction of teenage life for so many of our students – drugs, crime, a chilling pederast, a teen Hero’s Journey through that real world we so fear in our classrooms.

Why Fun #2: Case in Point

I took an AP Literature workshop from the queen of AP Literature – she wrote the book for the College Board – and the final assignment was an AP Literature syllabus that would win the approval of the College Board bureaucrats.

I included in the syllabus a novel that, besides being one of the most mesmerizing displays of prose artistry in the English language, was also guaranteed to pique the interest of that most difficult of audiences – high school seniors. I’m talking about Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita.

The AP Literature Queen’s reaction was predictable, but no less disappointing for that: “I advise you,” she said (and I paraphrase), “not to teach Lolita. Think about it. The protagonist is a 40-something literature teacher like you, and he becomes sexually involved with a school-girl younger than your students.”

I thought long and hard about that advice. AP Literature touts itself as a “college level course,” yet it’s advising me to teach it like my students can’t handle adult content. It’s encouraging me to perpetuate the Daze. So we’re reading Lolita this month.

I think I can say they all love it. I also think I can say they can handle it – and if they can’t, they should learn to, now more than ever.

Now more than ever, with social networking and blogging and Facebook and so many other global entryways into our students’ lives, Lolita is relevant. It raises the questions we need to raise. Are there predators out there? Should minors shut themselves off from all adults because of that? (I’m thinking of my introduction of my students to my Twitter network of educators who have been so helpful in their learning this semester.) Or should minors instead learn to distinguish the adult angels from the adult devils out there, and to conduct themselves wisely and react wisely to any bad apples among the barrel brimming with good ones?

And besides this tangential benefit, there is the purely literary one: by teaching Lolita and similar mature works, we introduce our students to the world of real literature – shocking, unsettling, disruptive, paradigm-complicating if not -shattering – and give them the opportunity to discover why we adults read it.

Or else we trot out the same old “safe” novels breaking the now-safe old taboos. The Scarlet Letter, anyone? AP Literature, were it alive when Hawthorne’s novel was new, surely would have advised against teaching it then. But we can teach that one now. In its exploration of now-quaint adultery, can’t we admit that now, in content and (archaic) style, this novel that once dazzled today only . . . . dazes?

I’d love to hear students in comments here.

Now who do I tag (I don’t believe in “whom”)? Okay: Nathan Lowell, Bud Hunt, Jeff Wasserman, Doug Noon.

One for the MiniLegends

[Update: I was out of the loop preparing for my wedding when Australian Al Upton's MiniLegends and Qatar's Jabiz Raisdana got hit by two shockingly reactionary hammers. Since this podcast features Noel Thomas, an Australian high school principal representing all that is most forward-thinking and impressive about Australia's educational system, I'd like to dedicate this podcast to Al, the MiniLegends, and Jabiz. Noel, I can't help but fantasize that you and Al discover each other and join forces. As you say in the podcast, most teachers will never get it. Al is a teacher who has impressed us all for years with how much he does get it. (h/t to John Connell for the miniLegends badge - John, I hope you don't mind me nicking it?)]

Love This Podcast, or I’ll Eat a Bug

As I say in the intro to this podcast, if you don’t find it the most interesting hour of podcasting I’ve ever done, I’ll eat a bug. (And yes, Los Angelenos, that is a quote from the old Cal Worthington used car commercials of the ’80s.) That intro was hard, by the way: I tried about 8 times to summarize why I’m so excited about the things happening in that podcast, but couldn’t, and did the “eat a bug” intro instead. In retrospect, it sounds silly. But I had to get the thing published.

Creative Destruction Abundant

What walls don’t come down in this hour-long talk? Bye-bye edu-caste system, bye-bye geographic and temporal barriers. My guests are from three continents and four levels of school hierarchy:

• High School Principal Noel Thomas, Toorak College, Melbourne, Australia
• High School Principal (and next year’s Director) Rich Boerner, Korea International School, Seoul, South Korea (my employer)
• Librarian Jenny Luca, Toorak College, Melbourne
• Lara H., high school student, Toorak College
• Lindsea Kemp-Wilber, Punahou High School student (and Students 2.o staff writer), Honolulu, Hawaii, USA
• and me, high school teacher and tool-guy, Korea International School

(Quicktime free download required)
[quicktime]http://ia311303.us.archive.org/3/items/ClayBurellPodcast_ThreeSchoolsDiscoverthe21stCentury/PGCAustralia.m4a[/quicktime]

(right-click and “save target as” here to download enhanced podcast for iTunes)

Table of Contents

If you download to iTunes, you can navigate by these chapter headings:

• Intro: I’ll Eat a Bug
• Audio Snapshots
• Welcome
• Noel Thomas, Toorak College, Melbourne Australia
• Toorak’s Dilemma re: Web Access for Students
• Rich Boerner, Korea Internat’l School, Seoul
• KIS’ Open Web Access for Students
• Factors Favoring Relaxed Filtering at KIS
• Toorak Librarain Jenny Luca: Toorak Change Agent
• Jenny’s Views on the Value of Blogging to Learn
• Toorak and KIS Connect thru Project Global Cooling
• Lindsea Kemp-Wilbur, Intro (Hawaii Student)
• Student Lindsea Teaching the World
• Lara H., Intro (Australia Student)
• Sustainability at Our Specific Schools
• Broader Issues of Connecting Schools for Learning
• Lindsea on Youthnet: Student-Initiated Global Collaboration via Twitter and Wiki
• How Clay in Korea has Known Lindsea in Hawaii for Almost 2 Years
• Getting Teachers to Accept Student-Led Collaborative Projects
• Getting Students to Rise to the Challenge of Laptop Learning
• KIS Student Patrick Nam as Model of Networked Learning
• Noel’s Approach to Keeping Students Responsible Online
• Jenny’s Approach to Pulling Students In
• Clay on the Importance of Same Time-Zone Partner Schools
• Rich on Importance of Collab AT SCHOOL, not home
• Acceptable Use Policy
• Toward an Eastern Hemisphere Schools Network
• Spreading the Word to Students about Youthnet
• Lindsea as Model for Student Imitation
• Lara: PGC Should Be Easy in Australia
• Difficulties with Projects in Korea
• Media Interest in Project Global Cooling
• Clay’s Parting Shot: This Tech is EASY
• Parting Shots
• Closing Comments: Project Global Cooling Growing: Seoul, Hawaii, Australia in, and Beijing, Los Angeles, and Bangkok Nibbling – Add Your School This Year or Next
• (Name Your Bug)

Links Referenced in Podcast:

• Jenny Luca’s Lucacept (Australia)
• Will Richardson’s Weblogg-ed
• Project Global Cooling
• Bill Farren’s Education for Well-Being blog
• Lindsea Kemp-Wilbur’s Love and Logic blog
• Chris Watson’s WatsonCommon blog
• Lindsea’s Youthnet post on Students 2.0
• Jabiz Raisdana’s Intrepid Teacher (stay intrepid, Jabiz)
• Jabiz’ Global Issues class blog
• Youthnet Twitter page
• “Natural” Global Collaboration (my networked learning elective class)
• Youthnet Wikispace
• The 1001 Flat World Tales global collaborative writing project
• KIS Sophomore Patrick Nam’s blog and podcast

Recorded on 3 March 2008

Did you ever notice that we have no holidays in which we revere history’s true – in the sense of “backed up with evidence” – miracle-workers, those hard-working saviors we call “scientists”?

Think about it: scientists, through the “miracle” of human reason, have eradicated diseases for literally billions of people through medicine, created light and warmth in winter through electricity, bread for the hungry through improved agriculture, knowledge of “the heavens” through astronomy, knowledge of creation and generation through biology and genetics. They’ve literally given man the “miraculous” power to fly around the earth and to the stars; to speak face-to-face from opposite ends of the earth (and from the moon); they’re close to creating life itself, and have already created a doubled average lifespan for all of us in a mere century.

Why we don’t give thanks at Temples of Science, and donate our tithes there to promote more Good Works, is a question for future historians – if our future is not cut short by nuclear- or bioweapon-armed religious fanatics in the name of one authoritarian book or another (and it’s funny that Buddhists, of all world religions I’m aware of, are the only ones not to claim knowledge of any god at all, and also the only ones not to be engaged in violence in the name of their creed). Why we take our children to hospitals when they’re sick – we used to take them to priests – but turn around and attack the teachings of science in our schools….this saddens and frustrates me to no end.

As a history teacher and humanist, as a simple human amazed at the changes over time in human history – women’s liberation, civil rights, the triumph of modern science and reason over medieval and Iron Age ignorance, and so forth – I’m keenly interested in the rise of the “new atheists” in Western culture (again, “atheism” makes no sense in Buddhist, Taoist, and Confucian Asia, since it was never “theist” to begin with). Sam Harris, Daniel Dennett, Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens, and others have led a fascinating movement to challenge one of the last unreasoned taboos – the desirability of religion in modern civilization.

Yesterday, I was reading the Science Blogs in my Bloglines, and came across a post that had the following 2-hour “coffee klatsch” conversation of four of the earth’s leading contemporary “heretics” (in Latin, this simply means “ones who choose”) and champions of science. While I’ve seen them all featured in the media in one place or another, it has usually been in situations in which they argued their positions from an editorial soapbox, or else engaged in a somewhat sensationalistic debate with a proponent of one faith or another.

In the videos below, though, things are remarkably different: they’re among friends and fellow-travelers. No name-calling, no thumping of Darwin or Moses here. Instead, they unwind into a wonderfully intelligent discussion of their motives for attacking superstition, their fears of its untrammeled progress in the future, their frustrations at our culture’s ignorance of the basic principles of science and scientific “knowledge” and “truth” and, perhaps most remarkably, their own misgivings about both what they are doing, and how they are doing it.

In this setting, we see different sides of these men. Richard Dawkins, author of the best-selling The God Delusion, who has often seemed peevish and combative in discussions with such religious leaders as the fallen “cocaine-with-male-prostitutes” megachurch preacher and Bush-adviser Ted Haggard (here) (and to be fair, Haggard castigated Dawkins with all the self-righteousness of the best of our American Elmer Gantry’s) and with a Jewish convert to Islam in Jerusalem (here), emerges in the videos below a much milder, more humble and likable man.

Similarly, Sam Harris, whose The End of Faith: Religion, Terror, and the Future of Reason is a masterpiece of style and rhetoric in its arguments against religion, but at the same time threatens to alienate the very audience it hopes to reach through that very force, poses in the talks below some exquisite questions about these rationalists’ own assumptions of their “righteousness.” It’s scientific humility in action, and at its best. (Harris gave a brilliant speech in 2005 at Canada’s version of TED Talks, “Idea City,” here, but thankfully seems since then to have reconsidered the efficacy of calling religion “bullsh*t,” as he does in an ill-advised moment at the end of this speech.)

Daniel Dennett is Professor of Cognitive Studies at Tufts, author, and a staff writer of my favorite intellectual science-and-culture blog, The Edge, (don’t miss his “Thank Goodness” post for a beautiful paean to the good works of scientists worldwide working together for a universal good, rather than against each other for a tribal one. Dennett wrote it after surviving

a nine-hour surgery, in which [his] heart was stopped entirely and [his] body and brain were chilled down to about 45 degrees to prevent brain damage from lack of oxygen until they could get the heart-lung machine pumping

–and it is a truly beautiful, inspiring piece of writing from a man recently back from the final precipice.) Dennett comes off as warm and civil as his Santa-white beard suggests he should (and I just discovered he gives three TED Talks here).

Finally, Christopher Hitchens, author and staff writer at Vanity Fair, contributes his own spice to the mix. He frankly annoys me by dominating so much of the conversation, ignoring others’ attempts to weigh in, and otherwise showing a lack of social intelligence. But his discussion of the fateful event which Hannukah celebrates, and his argument that it was actually an unparalleled disaster for the future of civilization, was one of the high moments, intellectually, for this history buff’s experience of the film. It’s in the last ten minutes or so of the second video.

Before embedding the videos, I’ll add the following caveat: as an educator tasked with inspiring critical thinking abilities to the next generation, and as a person who simply stands up for advancing the Good as he sees it, I hope I don’t have to apologize to anyone for asking valid questions like this. I’ve said it before in these pages, and I’ll say it again: the problem with schools, generally, is they only practice critical thinking about safe subjects – and that’s an increasingly tragic oxymoron for our world.

I hope you’ll find a couple hours to be entertained by some sorely needed, very civil, conversation about one of the chief questions in our shared historical moment.

Hour One:

[googlevideo]http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-869630813464694890&hl=en[/googlevideo]

Hour Two:

[googlevideo]http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-225595257312538919&hl=en[/googlevideo]

Best holiday wishes to you all, by the way. You’ve enriched my life (with the aid of this scientific miracle called the read-write web) over the past year in ways for which I am truly thankful.

Imagine an American future in which all news is Fox “news.”

It just got closer – read below.

If you’re an American, please consider practicing the easiest form of citizenship in the history of the republic – a click and a message to your congressperson, 2 minutes max.

This is so intimately tied to education, and to so much more.

Dear Clay,

Millions of people stopped the FCC in 2003. Let’s do it again! Sign the Open Letter to Congress

It happened. A few minutes ago, FCC Chairman Kevin Martin and his two fellow GOP commissioners approved new rules that will unleash a flood of media consolidation across America. The rules will further consolidate local media markets — taking away independent voices in cities already woefully short on local news and investigative journalism.

In 2003, the FCC tried to do the same thing, but millions of people demanded that Congress reject the FCC’s rules. And they did. It’s time to do it again.

We need 100,000 people to get Congress to reverse the FCC’s rules right now.

Sign Our Open Letter to Congress
Then get three of your friends to do the same.

This is about whether we will have access to the information that democracy requires. It is about whether or not we’ll have real news and local voices on radio, television and in the newspaper in your town. It’s about whether the public airwaves will represent our nation’s diversity.

Just yesterday — spurred by your calls and letters — 26 senators from both parties sent a letter to the FCC Chairman promising “to revoke and nullify the proposed rule” if the FCC voted to lift the longstanding ban on “newspaper-broadcast cross-ownership.” But Chairman Martin did it anyway.

Congress has the power to throw out these rules — and if 100,000 people demand it, they’ll have to listen.

Take action now and spread the word.

Some say that nobody listens to letters like this. Well they definitely do, and it’s a way you can truly help the cause with just a few clicks. Sign on now — and get your friends to do the same.

Your actions are making a difference. Let’s keep up the pressure. And stay tuned — this fight is far from over.

Thanks for bringing us this far,

Robert McChesney
President
Free Press
www.freepress.net

P.S. Spread the word: Recruit three new friends to sign on to this letter and send the message to Congress.

P.P.S. Read Senator John Kerry’s blog post on today’s decision on the Free Press Action Network.

View more information about this campaign at: www.action.freepress.net/campaign/sbmopenletter

Tell your friends about this campaign at: www.action.freepress.net/campaign/sbmopenletter/forward

If you received this message from a friend, you can click here to become a Free Press activist.

I’m off to Bangkok for the Apple Distinguished Educator 2007 Asia Institute in 24 hours, so I’m crazy rushed: sub plans for 3 missed classes, packing, the usual teachery stuff (gradebooks and other banes), prepping a presentation for how 1:1 is working (and sometimes not working?) at our school. (I really look forward, more than anything Apple, to simply re-uniting with International School of Bangkok’s Kim Cofino and Justin Medved to hone our collaborative visions about the 1001 Flat World Tales and Project Global Cooling, plus whatever they’re cooking up that I might support from Korea. I’ve missed these two since seeing them in Shanghai for the Learning 2.0 Conference in September.)

But here are a few things on my mind before I go:

The Wrong Kind of Selflessness

I don’t care how wealthy, “elite” (silly word connoting “more shopping power” in today’s age), and conventionally “well-educated” a student body is. If the emphasis is on GPA, SAT, Advanced Placement overload, and hyper-extra-curricularism for the sake of college application bullets (“I was in student council, Model United Nations, Cheerleading, Basketball, Debate Club, and Future Workaholics of America”), the result is often painfully obvious: all of those extrinsically motivated pursuits are a Faustian Bargain.

What is lost in this mad rush for the killer college app is this: the soul itself.

Okay, I don’t believe in this Iron Age concept. Let’s be modern and call it “the self.” It’s every bit as precious, without the theological baggage. I’m talking about the sense of who you are, of what you want to do, and the path of learning and creating based on those two senses – learning about the world the individual self is called to, and creating a worldview on that basis, and creatively contributing to that world at some point. I’m talking about your freaking life story.

It’s an opportunity cost thing. Our time is finite. 24/7 is a reality we so far haven’t transcended. And if you are being force-fed college application steroids every waking moment – classes in school, schooly extracurricular activities after it, SAT prep night classes after school and on weekends, other tutors and AP prep classes ditto – then what is not being fed, again, is the Most Important Thing: the Self, the Essence of your own genetic thumbprint, the special meat-package of who you are as an individual.

You may gain the Ivy League, but you lose your soul. You lose your voice, your creativity, your sense of wellness, wonder, and self-impelled exploration. Outside of that GPA, there’s not much there there. “Bookful blockheads,” to quote Samuel Johnson, with “heads stuffed full of facts” (to tweak Eliot).

My evidence? Try this: 30 students with MacBooks, most of whom are sincerely committed to a Project Global Cooling, but who are bewilderingly unable to produce a single short film about it, a single podcast, etc, in over three months. Let me translate: they have the money, the wealth, the grades, the intelligence; but when it comes to a simple “create something, play, produce, get fertile”? Nada. Too busy outside of our 40 minute/week activity block with all those Faustian pursuits. And, I suspect, too conditioned by a life of “schooling” to relax and create with that true artist’s acceptance of failed sketches in pursuit of the successful one. Too success-driven (conventionally defined) to be creative. Too fearful of “failure” to create something that doesn’t work. Too over-scheduled to have time to even try. Shocking, really. And sad.

We celebrate one kind of selflessness, and rightfully so; but this is the wrong kind. It’s a selflessness, ironically, born of selfishness – of the desire (probably more parental, institutional, and cultural than anything) to get into a “top” college. What a devil’s conveyor belt we’ve built with our schools. Sell your soul, go to Harvard.

The Wrong Kind of Morality

Other bloggers know that curious fascination that comes while skimming your sitemeter stats for the search terms that bring visitors to your blog. Me? Since posting my “Teaching the F-Bomb” about my AP Lit students’ modern translations of the constant (but more sublime than today’s) cursing in Shakespeare’s King Lear, I’ve gotten a surprising number of hits from people who apparently consider student cursing a moral issue worth researching.

Again, how Iron Age.

Can’t we aim for a modern moral framework here? Instead of expending energy trying to stamp out certain vowel-consonant combinations that do no harm beyond ruffling a few Victorian sensibilities – and I’m not saying we shouldn’t teach the proper times and places for the use of colorful language – can’t we instead focus on student habits that do much more damage? How about:

• the throw-away packaging addiction (bottled water, fast food, etc)
• the consumer habits that support socially immoral practices (like buying diamonds, for example, or Nestle products that rely on child slavery in Africa – aren’t these worse than saying “f&#k” a million times?)
• driving two-ton pollution machines without a thought to reducing their use

I’m so tired of that hackneyed argument that “science without morality is dangerous.” The problem is more located in our morality itself. Whatever culture you’re in, it’s a safe bet that your moral framework comes from some variation of Iron Age goat-herder or nomadic warlord. The moral issues they faced are different from ours. Joseph Campbell said it well:

For a civilization that has sent a man to the moon, it’s absurd to follow moral imperatives written before the invention of the wheel.

Or something like that. I paraphrase.

We’re in dire need of a revised Ten Commandments if we want our species to survive the 21st century at all. Resisting coveting my neighbor’s ass isn’t going to slow global warming or reduce the population explosion. (Actually, if “ass” meant what it means today instead of what it meant in Moses’ time – sorry, King James’ – maybe it would reduce population growth.) (That was a joke.)

But really. We’re educators. The next generation learns from us how to think critically about right and wrong, good and bad. Can’t we think critically about it ourselves? (And if Google brought you here because you’re looking for a way to wash your students’ mouths out with soap, I hope instead you’ll consider a bit of a moral paradigm shift, some soap for your own moral mouthings.)

More on the Edublogs Award Question

Darren Draper has an interesting comment thread about the value of the Edublogs Awards. I’m learning from it, and enjoying the debate. Worth a look. There’s constructive discussion about how the e-b folks can improve this shindig in future years.

Students 2.0 Coming Soon

I have a privileged, behind-the-scenes view of the planning going on for the Students 2.0 edublog launch. These young adults – disguised as mere “students” – are so brilliantly fun, smart, and creative, they intimidate me. And I’m learning a lot as I get to know them. (News flash: they’re smarter than me in a good number of ways.)

Watch out, edublogosphere. They won’t be raising their hands and asking for permission to talk here. Stay tuned for more.

Photos: 96dotsperinch and meeware1

Wow. It’s been a heady 24 hours. My site went down on Friday night around 10pm, and at midnight my neighborhood lost internet service. When I woke this morning, it was still down. It came on at 11 a.m., and I had a new experience: my Blogging Parent Letter: Choose Your Privacy Levels post made the del.icio.us “popular” posts front page. Thank goodness for the PowWeb support folks who fixed my site while I slept.

Now here’s the funny thing: that post was something I knocked off at school in a spare few minutes (I’d already written and distributed the actual parent letter). It was an afterthought. I thought a few people might find it useful.

But the fact that it got such attention – over 300 visits today from del.icio.us/popular and popurls alone in the last 8 hours – speaks volumes about this fact: classroom blogging might be “last year’s news” to all of us who’ve obsessed over “this year’s latest gadgets” (Twitter, UStream, etc.), but we still find it problematic. Put another way, it seems we may have swallowed it, but we’re still trying to digest it.

While I’m honored that so many people found the letter useful – and have Doug Noon, Mark Ahlness, Patrick Higgins, Konrad Glogowski, Chris Watson, Diane Cordell, and many others from a conversation months ago for helping birth it – I can’t help but think that the letter is a secondary issue. Bigger issues – and I’m thinking primarily on the upper secondary (14-18 year-olds) level – deserve more attention than the letter. The letter paves the way for these questions.

And those questions, true to blogging form, started taking shape in the comments section of the Parent Letter post.

I’ve done it before, and I’m doing it again: I’m “promoting” the conversation from the “comment limbo” to “full post” status here for the sake of the 99% of us who don’t leave our aggregators to read the actual post page and comments (when will RSS begin including comments?). Because Diane Cordell, after some prompting on Twitter from Jo McLeay and me, led the conversation where it needs, at least for me, to go.

So I’ll shut up now, and let that conversation speak for itself. I did my best to articulate my response to Diane’s pulse-fingering questions. I hope some of you will add your own perspectives to extend this idea further.

So here’s the (edited) conversation so far:

Diane Cordell // Nov. 9, 2007 at 11:00 am

Hi, Clay!

I really like this concept: you’re not asking parents whether their child can blog but, rather, what some of the components of the blog will be. Give Parents and Students “voice” while preserving the integrity of the medium and the message.

Just curious…are the participants totally free to chose their area of interest. No worries about social or political correctness? (I know you would be open to most topics, but does your administration have any restrictions on student research?)

Keep those kids hopping!

diane

Clay Burell // Nov 9, 2007 at 11:08 am

Diane, I’m as conservative as they come. I don’t let students write about anything against my own beliefs

Seriously, though: as things stand now, it’s an issue of addressing any posts of questionable judgment early – a “trust first, and coach when necessary” approach.

I’m curious to hear more of your thinking here. What scenarios do you have in mind?

Jo McLeay // Nov 9, 2007 at 11:47 am

Hi Clay, I think this is great and I love the idea about a project approach. That the connnected reading and writing has a goal in mind (At the moment my students blog reflectively). I think that the approach of being a guide or coach is better than proscribing topics that they may not write about or have topics that they “must” write about. Just some thoughts.

Clay Burell // Nov 9, 2007 at 11:51 am

Hi Jo. I’m totally with you – and Diane, from what I’ve come to know about her through a few months of interaction now, is probably with you t00. I think Diane is thinking more widely about possible issues that responsible teachers using this approach should think about, and that’s why I really hope she replies soon. In fact, I’ll tweet her now (but I’ve shut down Twitter for the most part – too much distraction for my tastes).

diane // Nov 10, 2007 at 8:31 am

Glad your site is back up!

Knowing my school population, I would anticipate some rather esoteric, if not questionable, choices for inquiry-based research! Our students are interested in the outdoors and, as they themselves put it “Redneck” activities (think rodeo, NASCAR, wrestling). Their vision is narrow and it’s sometimes difficult to suggest viable alternatives.

I let my 9 high school current events kids pick the issues they did a quick PowerPoint on – their choice of medium, not mine – and they did a fair job. Got a bit nervous when one boy started his presentation on underage drinking by stating that “We drink because we want to and you [adults] tell us not to”. He finished by mentioning the tragic accident that took the lives of two of our recent graduates last June. Three young adults died, and there were drugs & alcohol involved. So his work did reflect some thought and judgment.

I think that teachers would have to be very sensitive to community values and careful of allowing comments that were so authentic that they embarrassed or made targets of, the blogger, his classmates, his family, or the school. It’s a fine line we tread when it comes to balancing free expression and social sensitivity. Young adults sometimes lash out without thought for consequences. And those who are given freedom to post publicly need to consider the longevity of their remarks – into the college and career years and beyond!
Clay Burell // Nov 10, 2007 at 2:49 pm

Diane, thanks so much for pushing this conversation forward. It’s really one of the best comments I’ve had in a long time. Lots to respond to, so here goes:

You write:
“Knowing my school population, I would anticipate some rather esoteric, if not questionable, choices for inquiry-based research! Our students are interested in the outdoors and, as they themselves put it “Redneck” activities (think rodeo, NASCAR, wrestling). Their vision is narrow and it’s sometimes difficult to suggest viable alternatives.”

And my response makes even me uncomfortable, but it’s my current state of belief: if they want to write about NASCAR or hunting, let them. Look at the NYTimes. It has blogs for fashion, sports, business, and everything else you can imagine. And then think of the “Long Tail” phenomenon and niche markets: I have a student right now who has a passion for event planning, for example. We searched for bloggers in this niche, and found a couple hundred on Bloglines with that tag – but none of them were that good. So… can’t we see this as an opportunity for this student to compete with these other blogs to “corner the market” in event planning blogs? She can read the best of these other blogs, think of angles that none of them had hit – combining event planning with web 2.0, for example, or a million other creative possibilities – and seriously establish a presence among event planners by virtue of her “upping the game” and becoming a valuable resource, in the real world, for her ideas.

Homework assignments from all her other classes (and mine) will keep her curriculum-driven “research” agenda full enough. Here’s her chance for the education she wishes school would allow her, but doesn’t.

The same goes for students with a passion for gaming, coding, fashion, animals, and anything else – within reasonable (but liberal, if I have my way) limits.

The point is this, as I see it: they have to be able to read and write about something they love, in order to care at all – intrinsically – about what they’re reading and writing. Otherwise, it’s “schooliness” as usual.

Thoughts?

Your second point about the students who addressed their own drinking is fascinating. Granted, they don’t want to reveal their own crimes and misdemeanors in any imprudent way; but think of the heart of their topic: the sociology of adolescence. I want my students to explore their own psychology, their conditioning, their society’s values, the effects of our questionable educational system on their minds, habits, bodies, relationships, lives.

The trick is to guide and coach them into writing about it, again, prudently. I’m not accusing you of believing in what I’m about to say, but simply say what I’ve said so many times in these pages: “critical thinking about safe subjects is an oxymoron” – and it’s the norm in schools. That’s why students so often don’t value their classes: fearful teachers pose irrelevant issues to cover their backsides.

So again, though: this is a tough one. My goal is to authentically assess, through conversation (public in blog comments, private with Diigo stickynotes shared only to the group), students’ attempts to write well and insightfully about their chosen subjects.

As for your last point, you hit it on the head: the “fine line” of “balancing free expression and social sensitivity.” Me? I side with free expression, because progress has only ever come from those with the courage to think critically about social norms. From Socrates to Jesus to Martin Luther to MLK and Muhammed Ali, free thinking has never been popular when it differed from thoughtless social norms. But it’s usually been historically redeemed and cherished later.

Again, it’s all about guidance.

I think there’s more to add: student blogs aren’t widely read, posts can be deleted without anybody usually noticing or caring, and the WayBackMachine doesn’t cache everything. But I could be wrong. I hope more people chime in here.

Thanks again for the push, Diane. You’re the best.

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That’s it so far. I really hope some of you will take it further. (And Diane really is the best. She’s been getting involved with my students on our AP Lit Ning – it’s open to anybody who wants to talk Shakespeare’s Lear or Milton’s Paradise Lost ((starting next week)) with my seniors. I feel like Diane and I are almost team-teaching this class. It’s nice.)

Anyway – your thoughts? I really need them. If you’re a regular reader, you know I’m trying to take the classroom out of classroom blogging, and replace it with something more authentic. (And for any sloppy readers out there, I’ll re-state: my students are within 8 months of being “legal” adults. We’re not talking about kids here.)