Teaching method 1:

Factories in the 19th century had no child labor laws. Children of all ages were made to work in sweatshops for long hours and little pay, with no protection from abusive factory managers and no safety regulations to protect them from the dangerous factory machines. Instead of going to school and learning for their futures, these children were stuck in the workplace, day in and day out, performing mindless, repetitive tasks for their bosses.

Yawn. Is it time for recess the test-prep-session-formally-known-as-recess yet?

Teaching method 2: Transform the classroom into a 21st century sweatshop for a day. For the whole day, have students sort coal and fabrics, tend machines or sew tiny beads into strips of cloth. Enlist parent volunteers to play the role of sweatshop managers, berating the children for slow or unsatisfactory work.

“Wrong. You are doing it all wrong,” shouts a parent volunteer, who then scoops freshly sorted gravel back into a pile and instructs all the young workers to ‘do it again!’”

Some students are reduced to tears during the day. None want to repeat it. All say it’s a lesson they’ll never forget that brought home to them the reality of others on this planet less fortunate than they are.

~

I nicked Method 2 from Amanda Kloer’s post on Change.org’s “End Human Trafficking” blog. That post, “Texas Middle School Students are Slaves for a Day,” recounts how teachers and volunteer parents transformed a classroom of sixth-graders, who had been studying child slavery in the 19th century, into the simulated 21st century sweat-shop described above.

That learning experience is an example of what I want to call “simulated trauma,” but should point out can be done in ways that inflict no more “trauma” than, say, the daily one of being labeled a “failure,” or being daily taunted or worse by bullies, on and on, so common to hosts of students in schools already – and without the psychological buffer of being a simulation. It brings to mind a couple of thoughts:

Simulated Trauma as a Required, Stand-Alone Class

I know this is gnarly from all sorts of angles, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible. The idea is this: present such learning experiences programmatically to students over a manageable period of time — one year, two years, who knows. Design them to simulate all sorts of pressing issues that are excluded from education because they don’t fit the cookie-cutter departmentalization of the content areas. Simulate such things as fresh water shortages; refugee camps; genocidal pogroms; military invasions; homelessness; undocumented immigrant student life; bullying; LGBT discrimination; teen pregnancy and single parenthood; life with an STD or AIDS; religious conflict; life under religion-based laws; on and on. (We can quibble about what should be included if you want; my purpose is to toss out a suggestive brain-storm.)

Such experiences, done well, would surely impress upon children realities that textbooks will always fail to impart.

The Problem of “The Four P’s”

The problem, of course, is that these issues will raise a firestorm of parental or community protest because – paradox alert – they’re relevant, controversial, and they matter. Schools generally avoid critical thinking about anything but safe, irrelevant subjects. The Four P’s – parents, preachers, politicians, and the long-suffering principals the first three browbeat – make sure that students don’t learn to question the status quo teachings of childhood.

So how do we get around that? Off the top of my head, I know that whenever I teach a controversial literary work, I notify parents beforehand,  and give them the option to have their child read something else (I did it with Nabokov’s Lolita last year). Few parents actually take me up on it, if any. And even if they do, their children? – and let’s talk straight here: they’re usually the ones most in need of learning critical thinking, precisely because their parents discourage it most – those children still get the experience second-hand, in lunchroom talks with their peers about it all.

The Problem of High-Stakes Tests

“None of these issues will help students improve test scores for NCLB.” *Sigh* If that’s a problem, what’s the solution (besides scrapping NCLB)?

The Problem of Social Engineering Hysteria

While this is obviously a canard polished off by conservative forces to perpetuate the hidden social engineering called everyday life — commercials on school buses and classroom TV’s, junk food in school vending machines and cafeterias, conspicuous consumption in student fashion and accessories, anyone? — it still requires a good strategy to overcome. Your thoughts welcome. But again, since parents of more forward-thinking stripes would by-and-large support such experiences for their children, the option for others to abstain may be all it takes to make such things a go.

The Problem of Business Roundtables

Wait a minute. We want our kids to become economic competitors in their adulthood. That means having the thick skin to keep labor costs low and profits high. The strong will rise, and the weak won’t. We don’t want to confuse our future leaders with compassion, do we?

Closing Questions

I’ll be doing a follow-up post on the “Blue-Eyes, Brown-Eyes” racism simulation many know as the “A Class Divided” lesson. So besides that one, what other lessons similar to the sweat-shop simulation can any of you share? And what did I miss in the discussion above?

Originally published at Education.Change.org
Image by marissaorton

3 Comments

• At June 10, 2010, concretekax wrote:

  One of my favorite lessons I ever did was to make brownies for my U.S. History class. We were studying the muckrakers at the turn of the twentieth century. The students ate brownies while we read an excerpt from Upton Sinclair's "The Jungle."

  Oh, and when I made the brownies I mixed in long hair-like strings of celery. Perfectly harmless, but gross when you do not know what it is. It was great fun and the students definitely got the point.

• At June 10, 2010, Clay Burell wrote:

  Just a quickie to say, "God, I love that."

  Have you seen the Yes Men Save the World? They posed as businessmen launching a new idea of alternative feul: candles made from the flesh of the poor. Passed them out at a conference, had the Chamber of Commerce types light them, talked up the economic brilliance of their Alternative Fuel "Soylent Green" solution.

  Scary part: many in the audience that it was a great idea and one seemed interested in investing.

  They put hair in the candles to make them smell like burning flesh when lit.

  You can google it.

• At June 16, 2010, Emile Snyder wrote:

  That said, I think that as an opt in program it sounds pretty interesting. I might do it. But not if I didn't really trust the teacher.

  You need safewords. Seriously.

Related posts:

1. Refining the Message: A Re-Post and Self-Check on Fear and Irrelevance in Education
2. Social Networks as a Political Force for Education (and, More Students 2.0 Sought)
3. Guest-Blogger Bill Farren: Education for Well-Being
4. My Wikispaces in Education Webinar Presentation Video is Up

Learning Technologies 2009 Keynote, Part 1: Click image to view.

The Missing Link: Texas Politics Distorts US Textbooks
(watch before Speech Part 2. Slide to 5.15 for the kicker)

Learning Technologies Keynote Part 2 (click image to view)

~

Prologue: On Time and Other Thieves

Anybody as oblivious to the passage of time and calendar pages as I am knows it can be a source of both bliss and embarrassment: bliss because the hours and days are so damned interesting you don’t have time to notice them; embarrassment because some of those hours and days demand your notice — or else there’s hell to pay.

Common examples: birthdays, anniversaries, blasted holidays.

Less common: the keynote speech I gave to the Learning Technologies 2009 Conference in Mooloolaba, Australia, on Queensland’s Sunshine Coast, recently — d’oh! — not so recently: last November. It’s time to share it, reflect on it, and say thanks. Where does the time go?

~

The Story of the Speech: A Farce

Exposition: Seth Godin as Textbook

I’ve given smaller presentations before at various schools, at the Apple Distinguished Educators Institute in Bangkok a few years ago, and so forth, but they were always in-house. But this one was by special invitation and, cooler still, for the keynote of the final day. I’ve never given a keynote before, and wanted to rise to the occasion with my best creative effort.

But I had other, more important reasons for wanting to do well: I wanted to use the speech to teach my students. The invitation came in September, at the very time that I had assigned my Western Civ and Chinese history students to give “creative speeches” of their own. As you’ll see if you watch the speech, I had tossed out the ‘schooly’ approach to oral presentations — you know, the Death by Droning Powerpoint  — and replaced it with a different “textbook” for speeches.

That “different textbook” was online. It was TED Talks. More specifically, Seth Godin‘s talk “On Standing Out.” Here it is:

I showed this Talk to all my classes in the first week of school and, in a nutshell, told them that the closer they got to Godin’s delivery and slide creativity, the closer they got to an “A.” It resulted in the best time I’d had watching student presentations in my entire decade of teaching. Not all the students rose to the challenge, mind you. But those that did proved the value of the attempt in spades.

Good for the Gander

So I figured I’d be a good egg and put my money (and reputation) where my mouth was for my students: I’d give my own “Godinesque” presentation in Australia and, knowing it was to be filmed and put online, share the link so they could learn, along with me, whether my TED/Godin evangelism had real-world merit, or was just the latest example of teacher BS. They’d get to see me walk the tightrope without a net, and judge for themselves.

Damned Clocks, Blasted Calendars

There was a small problem. I was already drowning in the waves familiar to all teachers in their first year at a new school — above all,  creating curriculum and syllabi from virtual scratch (I didn’t like the textbooks). I didn’t have a lot of mental space for crafting a speech on something as far afield from that teacher-head terrain as the conference’s theme: “The Power of You.” My head was in the Power of History.

I burnt the candle one night brainstorming an outline for the thing, wrestling the whole time with my confusion over that most important question for any communicator: Who, exactly, is the audience? I couldn’t tell if it was teachers, administrators, corporate types; if they were already techie born-agains, or phobic techie infidels. I muddled on anyway, and saved the file for later.

The next time I looked at the calendar it was the Friday a week before the conference. I didn’t have a single slide.

The Pleasures of Masochism

My long-suffering wife of a workaholic listened to another apology that I had to work through another weekend, and watched me slink off into my office/doghouse. I fired up the by-now old outline I’d banged out, looked at it, and promptly deleted that four hours of late-night work. My head was in the Roman Republic back then, and now it was in the Late Medieval period. I had other things to say now. Our classroom had long since moved on from the student presentations to discussions of the “key concept” of “civilization” and its textbooky “five characteristics,” and I wanted to prove to my 15-year-old charges that this bit of schooly knowledge could be put to good real-world use, done critically and creatively. Plus, our class time-travels, since I’d made that outline, had covered an additional 1,500 years of memorizing one damn fact and name after another for ninth-grade tests and essays, and I wanted to demonstrate ditto for those schooly testable items — wanted to show them that knowing history can be golden when arguing in public for a real cause.

The Madness of Blog-Mining and Flickr-Fishing

Then something beautiful happened.

If I was going to address “The Power of You,” I already had my outline: this very blog. It was all there: my years in Germany, in China, in Korea, in Singapore; my path “down the digital rabbit-hole” as a teacher, and my struggles to be a teacher despite working for schools. I looked at the archives page, so conveniently displaying titles and dates of my journey since starting it on New Year’s Day of 2007, and found a multitude of patterns to shape the speech. Better still, I realized I already had a huge amount of images in the posts themselves that I could use in my slides. That extra time searching Flickr for cc-licensed content to enhance my posts, and attributing the creators, turns out to have been time well-spent.

I went ape-shite. Clicking archive links, copying images to slides, animating them, coloring them, coddling them with my best designer’s care, adding “Godinesque” titles and captions and “chapter” headings, on and on, for hours and hours. I filled the gaps for the new ideas — civilization and its “complex institutions,” Jesus and Socrates and Luther and Gutenberg, Moodle and Blackboard and Ning, other Names and Facts — in this slideshow-cum-outline with new images from Flickr, searched for and found them, all in a life-loving delirium.

More seductions came: the speech would aim to play to the multiple audiences enabled by our Brave New Web — beyond the Aussies in the auditorium to my students, to my readers and Twitterverse, to my wife (See? All that work pays off!), and to you, Seth Godin, in playful tribute. You live right next door on the web, so why not invite you in? We’re all neighbors — and you’ll love the clip in the preso showing your influence on the student who explained Confucian philosophy via a Simpson’s slide.

More ideas pushed forward, nudged out old ones, gave a startlingly higher purpose to the speech than originally planned. The thing began to take on the shape of a major life-work, a symphonic summing up of all before and the unveiling, in the “fourth movement,” of a climactic new chapter in the War on Schooliness. It was nothing short of mystical, in the best combination of inspiration and gut-laughter. It was polite but subversive, pedagogical but political — “serious,” to quote Hakim Bey, “but not sober” – and it so raged against the edu-Philistines that Jesus himself would be proud. It was, in short, completely bonkers — and I had no doubt that it would work.

On and on I tinkered, on and on composed, some god alongside laughing with me all the while. So this was how it could feel to make a presentation of “an idea worth spreading”!  The clock on the desk withered away into air. Sun and moon rose and fell, rose and fell, measured by coffee-spoons that kept sleep at bay.

Centuries later, the clock re-materialized on the desk. The calendar said it was Sunday night. Time, then, for bed, and back to teaching tomorrow.

Mortal Combat, Round 2

After that mad marathon of 50-odd hours, I discovered a slight problem.

I had created a 300mb presentation containing 196 slides. The keynote was slotted for 45 minutes.

(If those figures didn’t make you gulp, you need coffee.)

But no worries, I said. I would arrive in Australia late Wednesday night, rehearse the timing in my hotel room, and be good to go by curtain time Friday morning.

Interlude: In the Classroom

The Chinese history class got interesting that week. It was the week of my war with the Google Fundamentalists in my classroom. Our online forum was heating up with controversy over whether a website I deemed a Mao-smearing disgrace was, or was not, a reliable academic source. Of all the weeks to leave the class to a substitute teacher, it had to be the one with the semester’s best and most  authentic teachable moment — with fiery debate, to boot.

But leave I did, flying off to Australia with all my war gear: my Macbook, my Keynote, my back-up and wireless router and cables and cameras, my kitchen sink. I was prepared.

Taming Time

I arrived in Brisbane, met the driver who took me to Mooloolaba, arrived at the hotel around midnight, found the hotel had no night staff and had left a code for me to get my key from the hotel safe. Front desk staff only worked daytime hours, would return the following morning. I’d never seen that before.

The room was perfect — wireless internet, balcony, ocean view, coffee and coffee-maker — and the night was quiet and balmy. Perfect for rehearsing my slideshow and cutting it down to size.

But since I had wireless, no harm in checking in to the class forum and seeing how that debate had unfolded during my seven-hour flight.

Moth, Flame

The forum was an all-out war of all against all — and quite a few of the students, more glorious still, against me. How delicious: they were pushing back against their teacher with their sharpest arguments and most defiant challenges, not yielding an inch to my authority. Thread after thread they raised their cry: “We’re not convinced — en garde!”

What the hell. It was only midnight. The keynote could wait.

I spent the next three hours on the battlefield, sometimes engaged in direct combat with this or that foe, other times combing through the arguments of student allies in the thread to marshal the force of their best moments in block-quoted volleys across the field. My travel-clock melted away in all the Homeric fun. It re-appeared three hours later, when my laptop warned me: “Your battery will run out in ten minutes. Plug in your computer to avoid losing your work.”

The interruption was annoying, but a good reminder. I needed to get to work rehearsing and timing the keynote.

I dug my adapter out of my suitcase, and then it hit me: I’d forgotten to buy an international plug adapter at the airport. I couldn’t plug my computer in.

The Holy Grail

3 a.m., and no front desk clerk to ask for an adapter. No choice but to strike out into the night.

I discovered Mooloolaba was a quiet little surfer’s resort town at this hour. All the shops were closed and streets empty, the stray and utterly useless packs of drunk teens notwithstanding. For the first time in my life, I prayed for a 7-11 (I usually wish for its destruction) that would have an electronics rack with an adapter, thinking I had decent chances of success. This was a tourist town, after all.

No luck at the first one. I was hungry, though, so I bought a loaf of bread and — “Wait, I’m in Australia, so put the peanut butter back on the shelf and buy the Vegemite next to it instead.” The cashier gave me directions to another 7-11 that I think she had hallucinated. I couldn’t find it.

So I went back to the hotel without the grail, forlornly chewing Vegemite on bread as dawn broke. Two hours later I was at the conference, sleep-deprived, introducing myself and meeting the organizers, begging them for an adapter. I got one.

The only problem was, the conference had started, and I wanted to watch the other presenters, meet the attendees, socialize. That, and I was dog tired. So I put off the editing for later that night.

A Tragic Ending

Of course I crashed that night without rehearsing. I think I even convinced myself that so many of the slides were meant to be rapid-delivery style that it would probably all work out within my 45 minute limit.

The next morning came, and I gave my speech without rehearsal — not a big deal for teachers, who do that every day for a living. It went swimmingly enough, I think — lots of laughs, occasional applause, an audience with great energy — until, halfway through my speech, weird music started playing.

I thought it was somebody’s cellphone, and ignored it as long as I could, but it started getting louder.

Then I was told it was the “wrap-up” signal. Farce had struck.

Have a good laugh at the last 5 minutes of Part 1. I laugh too. I speed through dozens and dozens of slides, saying wistful goodbyes to each as I rush to the end — because I had a new project to launch (I’d given a sneak preview of Students 2.0 to the ADE audience in Bangkok, and wanted to give a similar one to the new project, which is still getting its final pre-launch touches).

So the whole thing came to a crashing, and very awkward end — until.

A Comic Reversal

Teachable moment again: Show the students the value of assertiveness.

An unassertive person would have slinked off like the grandest of dorks, accepting defeat. I figured I’d risk being the grandest of dorks differently: I asked the host — after first asking the audience — if we could make time for the rest of the speech. Maybe out of compassion, maybe out of interest, the audience left him no choice. We scheduled the lunch hour for Part 2.

So we tamed time after all, by forcing our will on it.

Epilogue: The Most Important Thing

As for Part 2? I realized after watching it that I left out an essential piece of the puzzle by skipping the video of the Texas State Board of Education, and how it’s perverting US education by imposing a single, far-right ideology on US textbooks. Thus the Youtube video embedded above.

Luther took on a corrupt Catholic Church with the help of Gutenberg’s printing press, and brought it to its knees. We can take a page from his book and use the web to take on a corrupt textbook industry — by attracting students to find everything the textbooks leave out to please activist extremists dominating the Texas Board of Education.

I’ll be asking for help on that soon. In the meantime, thanks for stopping by.

And thanks to all the wonderful folks in Australia, and to the people I give shout-outs to in my address: Karl Fisch for first blowing my mind, Jeff Utecht for teaching me the tools, Dean Shareski and Scott McCleod and William Farren, and to too many more to ever fit in a list. It’s been a wonderland indeed.

19 Comments

• At February 1, 2010, Dean Shareski wrote:

  You're such an awesome storyteller and then to see my name somehow attached to it was a nice bonus. But seriously I look forward to the presentation but the backstory stands on its own. Well done.

• At February 1, 2010, Miguel Guhlin wrote:

  Great job, Clay! Thanks for sharing!

  .-= Miguel Guhlin´s last blog ..DiigoNotes - Phoebe Prince, 15, Commits Suicide After Onslaught of Cyber-Bullying From Fellow Students =-.

• At February 1, 2010, Jodi wrote:

  Shalom from the last leg of our trip here in Israel, Clay, where we have a "down" day and I'm treating myself to catching up on RSS feeds, including this post AND the accompanying videos (plus a couple of extra TED talks for the hell of it). NB: I don't know if it's just on my end, but the second segment of your speech got all skippy somewhere at the 3' mark, then slow and stretchy, and finally out-of-synch. :( But it was still fun to watch!

  I'm hoping to use the next few months of my own sabbatical to figure out how to re-invigorate my own teaching, even given the constraints of working for my school. :) Though I don't know how you manage it all -- even though I'm pretty handy with the tech tools I still find it takes an inordinate amount of time to get them set up for classroom use and then follow them, too.

  And then there's a certain "Creepy Treehouse" factor that seems to prevent my students from REALLY buying in to the things I set up, even when I've tried to make the work more authentic -- as you point out, exhausting and disillusioning. So I have to re-examine that, particularly how to work within the required confines of my school's program and my province's curriculum, too.

  Sometimes I wish that all us like-minded teachers could just start our own little internet-based school. But then who would fill our bank accounts? :P

  Yeah, yeah... back to being on non-school-related sabbatical. Cheers!

  .-= Jodi´s last blog ..Bunch of Phonies Mourn J.D. Salinger =-.

• At February 2, 2010, Sandra wrote:

  Hi Clay,

  I was wondering if you had another version of your speeches where we didn't have to download the microsoft programme to watch it. Thanks!

  .-= Sandra´s last blog ..Mi nueva página de inicio. Google se quedó corto al lado de... =-.

• At February 2, 2010, Clay Burell wrote:

  Hi Sandra,

  Unfortunately, all I've got is what the conference published. Wish it were otherwise.

  Clay

• At February 2, 2010, Clay Burell wrote:

  Hi Jodi,

  The tech problems in part 2 are not on your end, unfortunately.

  I'm hoping to make each part of the preso -- all four of them, in other words -- separate "TED"-like talks of high enough quality to do justice to the original idea, instead of the high-speed train-wreck it became due to my lack of rehearsing the timing.

  Not that I cared too much. It was still great fun, warts and all.

• At February 4, 2010, What Did They Tweet? | Teacher Reboot Camp wrote:

  [...] to use the tools we should support and see what they can do. I encourage you to visit his post, My Australia Keynote Speech: A Serious Farce, in One Thousand Acts, with the video links to parts I and II of his keynote. Here is an excerpt from his post: Teachable [...]

• At February 4, 2010, Jonathan Chambers wrote:

  That was a wild ride down 'collective memory lane', Clay. I enjoyed it, and I appreciate the fact that you still have your spirit and your voice. Your discussion of experimentation that you've rethought and reinvented is what I appreciate most.

• At February 5, 2010, Cindy wrote:

  Hey Clay, I also enjoyed it and great to hear about your reflections on the rabbit hole and beyond. Hope you enjoyed your first visit to Australia.

  Cindy

  .-= Cindy´s last blog ..Portal to Media Literacy =-.

• At February 5, 2010, Clay Burell wrote:

  Miguel, just a quick thanks not only for the kind words, but for all the help and fun you've provided along the road. Enjoyed seeing you on the list-serv I recently joined. It's a big, small world now.

• At February 5, 2010, Clay Burell wrote:

  Hi Cindy (you did hear your name pop up in the preso, I hope?). I loved Australia -- as friendly irl as it is in the virtual one. Hope you're well.

• At February 5, 2010, Clay Burell wrote:

  Dean, you're somehow attached to so much of the last three years. I'll be in touch re your email after returning from a school trip to India next weekend.

• At February 5, 2010, Clay Burell wrote:

  Nice to see you, Jonathan. Now get me a job in Shanghai so we can start Chapter 2. Hope you're well.

• At February 8, 2010, Cindy wrote:

  Sure did! I'm great, loving Ho Chi Minh City.

  .-= Cindy´s last blog ..Portal to Media Literacy =-.

• At February 17, 2010, Bill Farren wrote:

  Hey Clay: thanks for sharing this. It was nice learning more about your journey, the learning that comes from success as well as failure. Nice to see how you don't sugarcoat what it is, like too many tech evangelists seem to be doing. But on the other hand, you do a great job showing how anyone (who is curious) can improve their craft by connecting students to real people and real situations.

  (also, thx. for the shoutout).

  Be well.

  .-= Bill Farren´s last blog ..What’s Your Learning Attitude? =-.

• At March 22, 2010, Scot Aldred wrote:

  Hi Clay,

  I've directed my pre-service teacher students to your Blog for a few years now and I'm pleased to say that they find it very useful and are heartened by your honesty and courage to take risks.

  I have a question for you regarding your learning technologies keynote:

  How do you manage your assessment in projects like the Broken World WIKI? You spoke of being burned out--what are the alternatives? Peer assessment--validity? What would be your magic wand?

  Many thanks,

  Scot.

• At March 23, 2010, Clay Burell wrote:

  Hi Scot,

  Thanks for the kind words (on and offline). Re: assessing Broken World, it's been so long, I honestly don't recall how I did it then, so I can only weigh in on how I might do it now.

  But actually, you've given me grist for a new post, so let me try to bang that out now.

  Clay

• At March 23, 2010, On Student Genius, How Not to Grade a Wiki, and Making the World a Stage at Beyond School wrote:

  [...] Aldred asks how I assessed projects like the Broken World Wiki textbook, and I tell him I haven’t the [...]

• At March 23, 2010, Clay Burell wrote:

  Scot, it's up. Thanks for the prompt to help break some serious writer's block. :)

Related posts:

1. On Student Genius, How Not to Grade a Wiki, and Making the World a Stage
2. Video Presentation: A 1:1 Laptop School Baby Book: How It Looks at Four Months Old
3. Notes on Warlick’s Keynote, Second Viewing
4. On the Art of Being Boring

It’s the cream of my own Google Reader “China” folder, which I created and populated over winter break. If anybody has more feeds to suggest, please add them in comments. Otherwise, I share them to spare any other China studies folks out there the necessity of re-inventing the wheel. Here they are, from our class Ning:

Blogs in Asia (China, Hong Kong, etc) About China:

1. China Digital Times:

It’s my main source of up-to-the-minute news about all things China. Like CNN.com, it covers China-oriented news on all subjects: politics, culture, society, arts, human rights, economics, law, diplomacy and foreign relations, books, law, science and technology, the whole nine yards.

The best thing about it: it’s what we call a “curator” blog. Its writers scan all the important presses — magazines, newspapers, academic and political journals, on and on, for significant writings on China. Then they write a brief intro of the article, give you an excerpt, and a link to the whole article elsewhere on the web. So they do the searching for you, and consolidate the best content across the web each day in one place.

2. Danwei: Chinese media, advertising, and urban life.

3. ChinaGeeks

4. ChinaSMACK

5. The People’s Daily

6. The People’s Daily: Opinions and Editorials

US Sites About China: The Capitalist/Liberal-Democratic View

These sites are from the more mainstream US media outlets. They, too, will have their biases, so read them with equal care. They’re often written by Westerners with little deep knowledge of China and its history, so respect yourself and your own knowledge about China as that knowledge grows. You should be able, increasingly, to find blind spots in these Western views.

7. The Wall Street Journal: China RealTime Report Blog

8. The New Yorker Magazine: Letters from China

1 Comments

• At January 28, 2010, Brian H. wrote:

  Thanks for this list. I've got two friends who just applied to teach English in China and I think they'll find this list handy. I'll be checking these links out too even though it may be years before I can get to China. But I can dream, can't I?

  .-= Brian H.´s last blog ..10 Days European Motorhome Hire from Just Go (a great way to experience Europe) =-.

Related posts:

1. A New Diigo Vision and Call for Advice: On Students Teaching China to the West
2. “Lies My Teacher Told Me” Author Censored in China
3. What China Can Teach Writing Teachers
4. A Belated Farewell to China

From the excellent China Digital Times, with emphasis added:

Han Han was named as the ‘Person of the Year” in 2009 by two influential publications: Guangzhou-based newspaper Southern Weekend（南方周末) and Hong Kong-based magazine Asia Weekly (亚洲周刊). Here are some excerpts of the relevant articles in both publications, translated by CDT:

By Asia Weekly: Han Han: Youthful Citizen vs Power 亚洲周刊二零零九年度风云人物韩寒——青春公民VS权力.

Han Han is a 27-year-old author and race car driver, and his blog has generated nearly 300 million visits since 2006. He follows and is concerned with public rights defending events. On the Shanghai “Fishing” incident, Hangzhou “70 yards” incident, forced eviction incident and other events his clear and powerful writing has generated an enormous influence on public opinion. As a member of the post-80s generation, he lives authentically and freely, and demonstrates the energy of China’s youthful citizens and the hope of civil society in China.

韩寒，二十七岁的作家和赛车手，博客浏览量近三亿，他关注、跟进公共维权事件，在上海「钓鱼」事件、杭州「七十码」、强拆民居事件中，言论清醒、有力，产生巨大舆论影响力；作为「八零后」一代，他活得真实、自由，展示中国青春公民的能量和中国公民社会的希望。

From Southern Weekend: The Name of Han Han Means to Offend [the Establishment]

In the public eyes for ten years, he is now a household name, and still young, he is called by his supporters “Young Master Han.” This nickname is flattering and lighthearted, saying that he has style and quality, and is not a boring person. Young Master Han is an author, the only National Champion of in both field and rally car race, is an idol, and owns a blog which has the highest traffic in the world. He is so famous, that people often forget how extraordinary it is that one person has all these different titles. But Young Master Han became the Han Han that is now widely respected after he started a blog, and began writing social commentary which resonates with our time. His self-styled commentaries caused controversy, but were also widely popular. One day, even the most conservative people started to realize that this young man was not full of nonsense. Behind the 300 million clicks on his blog posts was a fresh humanist radiating the wave of freedom. [read the rest]

Regular readers will know I’ve become somewhat of an elitist when it comes to urging the young to blog, only wanting to “attract” those rare students who have the gifts but don’t seem to understand the tools we now have to manifest those gifts to the world — and this example is a case in point: Han can write well and think critically, “follows” (surely via RSS?) issues he “is concerned with” and writes about them. In other words, he’s got the gifts of curiosity, passion, a drive for socio-political engagement and reform, and an apparently wicked mind and pen. And a “humanist” to boot.

The most delicious detail in this young man’s delicious life? His secondary school held him back a year, and he dropped out of school without graduating.

Han Han was born on September 23, 1982. He won the first class award in the first “New Concept” writing contest in 1999, and was held back in his first year in the Songjian Number 2 High School in Shanghai the same year. He dropped out of high school in 2000, and published his first novel “Three Gates.” This book has sold 2,030,000 copies since then.

{…}

In 2008, he published a selected collection of his blog posts, “Random Texts.” In 2009, he published a novel, “His Nation,” a collection of essays, “Grass,” and a collection of blog posts, “Lovely Predators”…. Also in 2009, he announced he would publish a magazine “A Chorus of Solos.” [Han Han originally planned to name the magazine Renaissance, but the name was not approved by authorities.]

P.S.–To any students at my school: if you think you have this kind of talent, and want me to help you learn the simple blogging tools, come see me. I’ll work overtime with you, and it will have nothing to do with grades, homework, or GPA’s.

2 Comments

• At January 13, 2010, Jenny wrote:

  The idea of Voltaire blogging has made my evening. Thanks!

  .-= Jenny´s last blog ..Confession =-.

• At January 13, 2010, Clay Burell wrote:

  I <3 people who read footnotes.

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On Two Ways of Reading: Slavery reads on its knees. Freedom reads on its feet.

So a high school teacher’s job: to teach students to find those feet?

I’m just looking for snappy first principles here. Ones within the 15-year-old attention span.

5 Comments

• At January 26, 2010, Emile wrote:

  I have been enjoying the posts at Beyond School quite a bit, so I raise this concern with some trepidation. From my perspective (mostly Holt/Gatto inspired unschooling) I find this painfully ironic. School as an institution is invested in students "reading on their knees."

  Do you see it differently, or just feel that good teachers should subvert the system?

• At January 26, 2010, Clay Burell wrote:

  The latter. Institutions are made of individuals, and this individual, at least, thinks a critical understanding of history is a valuable service that schools, warts and all, can provide.

  Search "unschooling" or "deschooling" on this blog, and you'll see I'm sympathetic to it in general. But I also have concerns that it can deprive students of discovering interests they wouldn't arrive at without guidance. Not a simple position, I know.

  Thanks for popping in.

• At January 28, 2010, Emile wrote:

  Again, I want to emphasize that, all other things being equal, I would rather have engaged and thoughtful teachers in school than not. Such engaged teachers can make a real difference in the lives of their students, and I continue to comment with no disrespect intended. But...

  I don't think that "a critical understanding of history" is the same as "Slavery reads on its knees. Freedom reads on its feet. So a high school teacher’s job: to teach students to find those feet?"

  As I read you, the valuable change in perspective for a modern reader is in the critical approach to a text. We should not accept argument from authority; we should evaluate claims for ourselves in light of available evidence and take responsibility for our own beliefs. I agree with this whole heartedly.

  But then the natural question arises; what should I read? What should I do with my time? And suddenly we are right back to argument from authority. I don't know of any serious advocates of unschooling that believe it should be learning "without guidance." Holt devotes a large chunk of "Instead of Education" to teasing out the difference between "natural authority" (ie. people listen to you because you know what you're talking about and they want to hear what you have to say) and coercive authority (people listen to you because otherwise they will suffer consequences.)

  School as it is currently constituted cannot function without coercive authority. And more painfully, individual good teachers cannot escape wielding coercive authority when acting as its agent. At best they can focus on developing a parallel natural authority.

  Inasmuch as you are saying that the definition of a modern reader is that rejection of coercive authority I don't see how you can say that a high school teacher's *job* is to help their students reject coercive authority.

• At January 29, 2010, Clay Burell wrote:

  Emile, in theory most of what you say (and what unschoolers and such advocate) is right up my alley. In practice, the several hundred kids in my high school aren't part of that world, and neither am I. So we do the best we can with the situation we're given.

  Sorry no time for more. Guess I need a more pragmatic grounds to justify it. Know what I mean? Feels like the world-changing talks we used to have in college: easy to talk, but next to impossible to execute.

  So: proposals?

• At June 17, 2010, A Real-World Mini-Lesson in Critical Reading and Writing | Beyond School wrote:

  [...] this because so many students seem to read texts “on their knees” instead of “on their feet” — that is, they’re so busy reading to comprehend that their thinking stops [...]

Related posts:

1. A Real-World Mini-Lesson in Critical Reading and Writing
2. What is Schooliness? Maxim 1: Writing Lessons
3. Maxim: “Give Me a Unit I’ll Learn for a Day…”
4. How Modern People Read

Here’s why: the series demonstrates a mastery of content knowledge — in this case, Photoshop technique — while at the same time adding a creative element that makes the content-master stand out from the equally masterful but unimaginative competition. Point blank: in the hands of this guy, something as dull as “how to use layers” becomes a vehicle that screams, “Hire me to write for ‘30 Rock‘!” He proves he can turn lead into gold, which is a real-world skill not many people have. Alchemists like that deserve the chance to display their creative magic in school.

The Mental Work is Hard….

“You Suck at Photoshop” displays that creative magic in the form of fiction (see the Wikipedia entry on the series for  more). The host of the tutorials is a persona named “Donnie,” a loser stuck in a lousy life with a lousy wife. We learn about Donnie’s life through a series of such sometimes-subtle details as his choice of photos for the tutorial — “Say you want to use a photo of the Vanagon your wife meets her high school boyfriend in on Friday nights….wait, I’ve got one right here” (scroll past other photos of — gulp — handguns, and one of the high school boyfriend labeled — gulp — “douche-b.png”) — and such sometimes-over-the-top details as the wife barging in to kvetch at him in the middle of his tutorial, or his loser friend Skyping in with a loser-emergency while Donnie is making his screencast.

The creator of this project not only demonstrates his literary creativity by creating the fictional “Donnie” persona and populating his Photoshop folders with props like the pictures mentioned above; he takes it further with his dramatic creativity as he acts out the role of that persona with his voice-over. The vocal acting covers a broad emotional terrain, from dude in his basement chillaxing with his laptop to powder-keg psychopath struggling to keep the flame from his fuse. The acting is just awesome.

….The Tech is Dead Easy

The beauty of the project technology-wise is that it requires nothing more than a screencasting program like the free Jing or Screencast-o-matic, plus a webcam and microphone — your standard kit in most computers today. So the technical hurdles for students to do such a project are basically nil.

That leaves the whole of their energies to devote to the other two aspects of the project: mastery and critical understanding of the content, and creative concept development to deliver that understanding.

Too Beautiful for School?

So I’m wrestling, as usual, with the ways this wonderfully simple approach to creative learning will be complicated by the forces of schooliness:

• Do I have to make a rubric for it, and if so, does that kill the creativity with its prescriptive check-box drudgery, or limit the infinite creative possibilities by dictating “it must be this and not that, and that and not this”?
• Is it sustainable in terms of watching and grading and giving feedback to 100 students doing such an assignment?
• How do I define satisfactory content mastery and creativity for this assignment?
• How do I encourage experimentation and the healthy embrace of possible failure when I have to slap a low grade on it if it does indeed “fail”?
• Should I make it optional, in following with my increasingly elitist impulse to definitely not “push” the unwilling to attempt genius, and not even “pull” them, but only to “attract” the three percent of “roses” in any student population who might blossom in the attempt?

I don’t know.

Nor do I know how to adapt this for a history classroom. Can “You Suck at Photoshop” become “You Suck at History”? How? How can this be used for Europe from the French Revolution to the present, or the complete history of China?

My recent brainstorm on giving a conceptual purpose to learning Chinese history by “interpreting it for historically-ignorant Westerners” seems to have some openings. God knows, there are ample websites of Chinese and Western art, literature, philosophy, religion, politics, and more that students could tab through on their screencasts as they provide their commentary like “Donnie” does to his open Photoshop on his desktop. But the maker of “Donnie” has the luxury of revealing that persona through the image “props” in his folders, while history students wouldn’t have as easy a task of  revealing persona if they were forced instead to work with history websites in their screencasts.

One solution I’m considering is making it a summative, end-of-semester project, in which students have most of the semester to let their creative juices stew and come up with their own ideas over the first few months. Then give a couple of weeks of class time to a workshop in which they design and execute those ideas.

Otherwise, I’m mostly adrift. Maybe you can help.

But if you watch the three-minute first episode below, you should see why I’m bewitched by the idea:

Do yourself a favor and watch the whole playlist. Then help me figure out how I can make this work?

6 Comments

• At January 4, 2010, monika hardy wrote:

  What a find... I love it.

  (Just like I'm loving tumblr now thanks to your conversation with Roberto. I was needing an easier/cleaner way to post how-to videos.)

  Some current thoughts on your questions....

  # Do I have to make a rubric for it, and if so, does that kill the creativity with its prescriptive check-box drudgery, or limit the infinite creative possibilities by dictating “it must be this and not that, and that and not this”

  Yeah - I wouldn't make a rubric. I would make the assessment process as raw and real as the project. I'd have the feedback come from the peers needing it - ie: those who suck at photoshop... Post it at school - see how many hits it gets. See how others in the class improve. Assess the project on how well everyone else does with it. I'd also have a couple professionals/parents look at it and give some feedback... some people the kids are going to want to impress. [I guess depending on the topic - that type of career/professional might use a rubric. Whatever - it needs to be authentic.]

  # Is it sustainable in terms of watching and grading and giving feedback to 100 students doing such an assignment?

  I think - done like above - yes - if it's a more authentic feedback process. Certainly not the way we have been doing it - where we all sit in a room and watch each other present, etc, not in real context.

  # How do I define satisfactory content mastery and creativity for this assignment?

  I think - for me anyway - I use *something like this video series as a model (*maybe you could make a cleaner school version for us all to use Clay...?) My kids are so good and motivated for these projects, but rarely do they hit both content and creativity. I think that's my favorite take away from this series - that it models that balance perfectly. Not too stuffy with content so as not to be entertaining and not so entertaining that it has no meat. So I guess I'm saying - set high standards for balance - with a good model beforehand. I think focusing on the balance rather than the topic/form a rubric usually focuses on - will allow for more freedom and creativity.

  # How do I encourage experimentation and the healthy embrace of possible failure when I have to slap a low grade on it if it does indeed “fail”?

  Maybe don't make it an end of the year assignment. Assign it from the get go...with several due dates throughout the year. I think we have really messed with what true assessment and feedback are. Kids and parents believe assessment is a marker - if you're good or bad. When it should be an ongoing iterative process... continually pinpointing areas that need tweaking. It should be freeing to the kids... rather than - I failed - I understand nothing.. they have maybe 2-3 specifics to work on. I love that we're living in a publish then edit period. I hope that lingers forever. And I love that we now have the means... via skype and blogs, etc to have experts help give that feedback.

  # Should I make it optional, in following with my increasingly elitist impulse to definitely not “push” the unwilling to attempt genius, and not even “pull” them, but only to “attract” the three percent of “roses” in any student

  I think you make the choice of topic/platform/mode/medium optional. The goal being... they need to make something that will live on and help others learn. If a kid can't do that successfully by the end of a course... (with ongoing feedback from adults and peers) then I guess we all fail...

  Once again... grazie.. for cranking my brain.

  .-= monika hardy´s last blog ..the ideas project =-.

• At January 5, 2010, Adrienne wrote:

  Clay - a rubric does not have to be a checklist, and it doesn't have to kill the creativity and risk-taking factors. Why can't you build these two areas into the rubric? (i.e., those projects which demonstrate more creativity and risk-taking get better grades) This can easily be done by working in some kind of thoughtful journal / video / other constructed response as a reflection justifying choices and process.

  It will no doubt take you much longer to mark than a "regular" project, but IMO, well worth it.

  .-= Adrienne´s last blog ..… and, that’s a wrap! =-.

• At January 5, 2010, Clay Burell wrote:

  Maybe I should start a blog called "I Suck at Assessment." I'm taking a grad course in it next month, so let's hope it helps.

  Extra credit if you bang out a mock-up of the kind of thing you're talking about.

  Happy New Year!

• At January 5, 2010, Clay Burell wrote:

  Monika, read and marked as "return to" after I finish my four days in Thailand visiting an old college friend. Thanks for the input. Gotta pack now!

• At January 6, 2010, Zoe wrote:

  I love the way you've approached this. I've only got a few minutes spare, or I'd fill your comment page up!

  My immediate thought was to suggest that you co-construct your project WITH the students. Work with them to define and agree the success criteria, the assessment methodology and to peer & self assess the project from planning through to end product. In this way, students not only get to design the assessment process and agree the project outcomes but also reflect on the learning process itself.

  Just a thought...great idea and I love the way you're grappling with assessment of mastery & creativity. Look forward to hearing about what happens next!

  Happy new year!

  @fullonlearning

  zoe

  Zoe

• At February 2, 2010, Adrienne wrote:

  Clay - I haven't forgotten about this reply. In fact, I've been thinking of it ever since. I've just been swamped with studies the last couple of weeks. Apologies. I *am* going to get a mock-up to you, come hell or high water, as this kind of stuff is so important (assessing for creativity but not making the assessment dry). I'll post to your email when I do!

  But in the meantime- did you know that the "You Suck at Photoshop" series has morphed (evolved?) into an entire project? Visit http://www.bigfatuniversity.org for some real genuine learning and laughs. My favorite is the series on Music and Garageband. A must see, I think.

  .-= Adrienne´s last blog ..… and, that’s a wrap! =-.

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1. Randy Nelson, Dean of Pixar University, on Collaboration and what I’ve been calling Social Intelligence in the Workplace. Key concepts:

1. Making co-workers look good, not bad;
2. “plussing” your partners;
3. wanting people not only with “depth” — résumé-based hires — but also a proven record (portfolios? blogs?) of innovation and
4. the ability to recover from failure instead of avoiding it;
5. on the desirability of “mastery of anything” (skateboarding, playing spoons) in a person’s past;
6. “the proof of a portfolio versus the promise of a résumé” (and, I’d add, GPA);
7. on wanting people who are interested, not interesting (that is, your piercings, tattoos, hairstyles, and daddy’s bank account are cheap ways to be interesting; much more interesting are people who are interested — hipsters take note);
8. communication skills based, again, on social intelligence vis-a-vis audience-awareness;
9. desirability of breadth (great, you’re a tech whiz; it would be nice if you knew, say, art history too);
10. on collaboration (“amplification” via “interested listening” and breadth and unique contributions to a project) versus cooperation (not getting in each others’ way).

Via Edutopia:

2. Seth Godin on Curiosity:

1. On the mental poverty of religious fundamentalists
2. On the mental richness of the curious
3. On how two generations lead sadly mediocre lives due to television, and how the lucky few have kicked that habit
4. On the curious and the fearful — “the masses in the middle [who have] brainwashed themselves into thinking it’s safe to do nothing”
5. On the difficulty of becoming curious — due to decades of schooling punishing curiosity
6. Nice Mao reference for this Chinese history teacher!
7. Paradox: “The safest thing to do is be risky; the riskiest thing to do is be safe.”
8. How Godin beat the odds and remained curious.
9. How religious fundamentalism has nothing to do with religion, and everything to do with an outlook that rejects curiosity.

Via Seth’s Blog:

‘curiosity’ from Nic Askew on Vimeo.

2 Comments

• At December 28, 2009, Morgante Pell wrote:

  Thanks for sharing the excellent videos, Clay.

  I think you definitely have something going with social intelligence bit, which also follows with many things the other Clay has been saying (Shirky). One of my favorite quotes from the first video was that "he core skill of an innovator is error recovery not failure avoidance." Unfortunately, our school system actively discourages taking risks and potentially failing. Failures pull down grades just as much as successes pull them up. Indeed, one bad test can keep a student's GPA down for 4 years.

  Seth's video summarized many thoughts I've already had/seen elsewhere, but in a nice, digestible way. That's one of his great skills. I think many people underestimate the great harm which TV causes. When people ask me about my (admittedly limited success), I like to thank the Green Mountains for blocking TV signals and my parents for refusing to get cable.

• At December 28, 2009, Clay Burell wrote:

  Yep, yep. Lots of what's old to one person is new to another, so it never hurts to spread the healthy virus by posting it and passing it forward.

  I love the feel and look of the Godin interview.

  I also love the last line of your comment.

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