Beyond School

In my third month of writing here about 21st century education, way back in March 2007, I put the pom-poms down, stopped cheerleading, and started thinking about all the ways schools can kill the learning that is possible when students have a simple laptop and a blog. This snippet from a post from back then says it all, and my views haven’t changed on this one. (Add “and laptop learning” whenever you see “student blogging”):

[My] last two or three posts–and the comments, thank you – have conjured depressing visions in my head at random moments. I’m a bit worried about the future of student blogging.

I fear we teachers are going to ruin it for the learners.

“Blogging is just another way to turn in homework.” That’s the sentence that scares me. Because that’s how non-blogging teachers, and perhaps those unfamiliar with literacy pedagogy – communication across the curriculum, writing to learn, authentic writing, and more – will probably use blogging in the classroom.

And it will become drudgery. And the students (not learners here, because “teacher” can’t let go of being “teacher,” dominating, squelching, and dictating to students) will bang out the minimum for “blog homework,” as in old days, and turn to something authentic. Like their MySpace.

Toward a solution (or at least mitigation): train teachers in the philosophy of blogging before letting them use it in their classrooms.

[Update 6 hours later: I misspoke when I said "my views haven't changed" since I wrote this. They have. I don't think any longer that "training teachers in the philosophy of blogging" (or 1:1 learning) is enough to make it work, if they're not also mentored by someone who is immersed in the 21st century learning movement - and that mentor is acknowledged and supported. Teacher training is no evidence of teacher learning.]

Since writing this, our school has become a 1:1 Apple laptop school. All the students have blogs. They have iLife, so they can podcast, make iMovies, the whole nine yards. One of the students in my PLN class, Younsuk (you may have read about his Basketball Without Borders project, in which he and another student have arranged Skype interviews - in class - with Asian college and pro basketball players, and podcasted them on their Wordpress.com blog), recently wrote the below on his “schooly” (required) blog. It’s just a snapshot, and I wish he’d have offered a possible solution for getting students to write on their blogs without somehow requiring it. I also wish he’d have the opportunity to learn that visual communication, the language of film, is a valuable (and not easy) skill to develop as well. But still, there’s much to learn from him. And he makes me wonder if my “prophecy” is coming true. Here it is:

[Our school] thinks we’re cool because the students carry around MacBooks. But carrying around a laptop doesn’t make a school cool, although it will certainly make the school look cool. Did [the school] get MacBooks so we can look cool? I hope not.

What are some of the cool things we do with our laptops?

[Most] students would be shouting, “iMovies!” right now. It is unique that we don’t write papers for our English final exam. Instead, we make movies using iMovie. But, is that really cool? Because I think there’s more potential to this than making a funny iMovie just to get grades for English class. I would understand it if it was for a movie making class. But does making iMovie enhance our skills in English…?

[Our school] is just trying to look cool by trying to use MacBooks whenever we can.

I’ve had too many teachers assign us to “make an iMovie” for this and that. I had to make an iMovie for my World Geography class and Asian Studies class. I was surprised when even my Spanish teacher told me to make an iMovie. It is obvious [our school] is trying too hard…to look cool.

And out of all my classes, Writing Seminar is one class that I think “is cool.” Yep, you guessed it right, it’s his class.

Personal Learning Network, or PLN is what we’ve been doing the whole semester in this class. We use our MacBooks to interact with people from all over the world, and learn how to write for [a] true audience. Not just that, we learn how to accomplish stuff through networking and meeting new cool people.

I have done some big things in this class. I have interviewed Asian college basketball players, uploaded the interview on our website to spread their words and break the stereotype of “Asians can’t play ball.” Some of them play professional basketball right now. I’ve interacted with some real people.

It’s much easier to see what I’ve done if you click here.

Now that’s the right thing to do with these laptops.

Macbook gives us “true audience.” In other words, it is real world out there.

While the MacBooks in the Writing Seminar classroom are shining, the other MacBooks in other classrooms are crying. They say, “what the hell am I doing here?”

I replied to Younsuk on his post, and will share that here as well:

I have a fantasy that, because you and others honestly express yourselves about your educational experience on your blogs, you eventually have an influence on how your classes are conducted - in other words, you teach your teachers and admin how it feels to be their student.

It’s delicate. You shouldn’t attack individuals or be too harsh, but at the same time shouldn’t mute your criticisms out of fear.

This medium can be powerful. Student voice can be powerful if it uses it. I’m thinking you and Soojin Lee and a few others could intentionally create change by focusing your efforts on starting discussion online about what changes you’d like to see.

I’ve read your entire blog tonight. I’ll be using some of your quotes in an upcoming post, and possibly in a book I hope to write this summer.

One last word, in defense of teachers: they’re new at this. Many of them don’t get it at all. So patience is only fair. They’re trying. But you can help them get it through good-willed criticism and instruction. You can teach them.

Stay in touch, Younsuk. You know where to find me.

I share this for many reasons, but primarily this: it’s not enough to “give professional development workshops” to teachers about 21st century education, and equate that teacher seat-time with effective training. Let’s be honest about that. We all know seat-time and certificates are no surer proof of learning for teachers than they are for students.

Younsuk’s situation brings up another important issue as well: laptop schools that don’t truly, really, really have true, true, true “coordination” of instruction risk burning students out with “three iMovie final projects,” as is Younsuk’s case, all due the same week. A good movie takes an hour of editing for every minute of the final product. I wonder how many minutes these students are expected to produce for their finals. It’s scary. And the solution is a real tech coordinator who monitors the load of production the same way a bus coordinator coordinates a workable bus schedule. You can’t leave this up to chance.

Finally, Younsuk’s mention that Macbooks help learning by allowing students to connect and network with the world is something no teacher or administrator is going to understand without doing it. It’s 20th century education with a shiny bell and whistle otherwise. Just a new way to turn in homework. The immigrants in power will think it’s cutting edge, but the students will think otherwise.

I’m curious what all of you read into this. I give credit to my school for trying to pioneer this territory, and expect that things will improve. But it’s not an easy task.

—

You can see all those old “Saving Classroom Blogging from Teachers” posts from Spring ‘07 here. The ideas there are arguably more relevant, now that blogging and digital storytelling and all that are spreading, than they were a year ago when I wrote them. The comments, as usual, hold the gold:

• On the Uses and Abuses of Student Blogging
• Teacher Think-aloud on Student Blogging (a Fresh Start)
• Post-script on Student Blogging Think-Aloud
• On Classroom Blogging 3: Sucking It Dry: Teachers as Vampires
• Blogging 4: Seeking Stakes for Dracula’s Heart–Moodle for “homework,” blogs for “real work”?
• The Conversation Begins: Saving Learner-Bloggers from Teacher-Vampires
• More on Protecting Classroom Bloggers from Teachers
• The Silver Bullet? One Idea for Saving Blogging from the Werewolf
• Phoenix, Blogging: Writing Beyond School
• “Teachers as Blogging Vampires” and “Blogging as Conversation” Gone a Bit Surreal

Photo credit: “Portrait of a Monkey” by s-a-m

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Real-time Twitter Search - Tweet Scan

Education for Well-Being gets my vote as one of the most important educational sites on the web, period. Bill Farren makes the videos he posts there, writes lucid and relevant discussions of them, and links to supplementary resources for possible classroom use. His written posts are as well-crafted as his videos, drawing on a wide body of literature about environmental and social well-being. I’m a hack in comparison. Unsubscribe to me, if that’s what it takes to get you to subscribe to him. I really think he’s that vital to education and the future.

Bill describes his latest video, “Peak Air: Charge It,” as an “attempt to visually define “unsustainable’.” As visual definitions go (and Bill, you should have added “audio” as well, because your soundtracks always impress), it’s first-rate. See for yourself:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-w9Qbz3T2Js

Go to the post itself for the written discussion and supplemental links. It’s a full (informal) lesson plan with a great visual aid, just waiting for you to push “play” to start the learning.

Related: Beyond School Posts about (and by) Bill Farren / Ed4WB

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[Before I launch into the statistics, I want to urge you to watch the YouTube video at the bottom of this post. It's a beautiful testament to the scientific method. In it, a scientist proves Darwin right on a hypothesis that, when Darwin was alive, earned him ridicule. The proof took 150 years to come to light - and it does so in that video.]

Damned Statistics

The crisis in scientific illiteracy should be a well-known fact to educated Americans, but just in case, a few statistics from the University of Chicago’s National Opinion Research Center’s 1991-93 International Social Survey Program (ISSP):

• Percentage Saying “I know God exists and I have no doubts about it”
  • United States: 62.8% - ranks 3rd under the Philippines and Poland. (Britain, by comparison, ranks 13th at 23.8%, and even Israel is less certain about this “knowledge,” at 43%, than the U.S.)
• Percentage Saying They Definitely Believe “The Bible is the actual word of God and it is to be taken literally, word for word”
  • United States: 33.5% - ranks 3rd, again under the Philippines and Poland. (Again, Britain, by comparison, ranks 17th at 8%, and Israel ranks 6th at 26.7%.)
• Percentage Saying They Definitely Believe in “The Devil”
  • United States: a whopping 44.5% - ranks 1st, this time, right above the Philippines and Poland. (Britain, by comparison, ranks 10th at 12.7%, and Israel ranks 11th at 12.6%.)
• Percentage Saying They Definitely Believe in “Hell”
  • United States: a whopping 49.6% - ranks 1st, again, right above Northern Ireland and the Philippines. (Britain, with 12.8%, ranks 10th, while Israel ranks 5th at 22.5%.)
• Percentage Saying They Definitely Believe in “Religious Miracles”
  • United States ranks first, at 45.6%, above Northern Ireland and Ireland. (Britain ranks 13th with 15.3%, and Israel ranks 7th with only 26.4%.)

I frame these statistics in terms of “scientific illiteracy” because it seems clear that a basic understanding of what we mean by “knowing” (as opposed to “having faith”) is lacking among those saying they “know God exists.” Similarly, those who “definitely believe” in the ontological reality of “the Devil,” “Hell,” and “Religious Miracles” betray a lack of understanding of what, in the International Baccalaureate program’s “Theory of Knowledge” class, we call “Justified True Belief.” (How is “definite” belief any different, subjectively, than believing we “know,” since “definite” implies no doubt?). Finally, the fundamentalist belief that every word of the Bible is “literally” true, as I read it, suggests a belief that the contradictory creation myths in that book’s first two pages (Genesis Books 1 and 2) are to be taken as scientific, cosmological explanations on the level of contemporary physics.

The ISSP survey seems to corroborate my “scientific illiteracy” frame by including in its survey questions that measure each respondent’s understanding of basic evolutionary theory:

• Ranking of 21 Nations on Knowledge Question about Human Evolution:

The United States, as you can see, finished dead last out of 21 countries. A 44% grade on this national science test literally shows that America scores an “F” on its report card for science class. (Britain gets a C, and non-monotheistic Japan and then-Soviet satellite E. Germany score a solid B-. Remarkable, when you remember this is a survey of the general populace, and not just the educated elite.)

I know this data is 15 years old, but more recent data from 2005, as I’ve reported before, shows “that the United States ranks next to last in acceptance of evolution theory among [34] nations polled,” and “that the number of Americans who are uncertain about the theory’s validity has increased over the past 20 years.” We beat Turkey in that study, but Bulgaria beat us.

A Testament to Science and Darwin’s Prophecy Hypothesis Come True

Just watch it. Science teachers and Theory of Knowledge teachers, your students should love this:

Two Short Stories: Why I’m Writing This

There’s so much muddying of the scientific waters from proponents of Creationism and Intelligent Design going on in America. Many of our edubloggers are guilty of that. In my book, no responsible progressive will stay silent and cede the battle for scientific literacy to the forces of medievalism out a sense of social niceness. The stakes are too vital. Call me a crusader for knowledge - or just call me a teacher.

Besides that, I had two recent experiences that struck me with enough force to mention them here:

One: The Neglected Healer

My mother-in-law suffered a catastrophic stroke last Sunday morning. My wife and I rushed to the hospital and joined her family in the Intensive Care Unit in what we thought was our final goodbye to that sweet woman. (She survived, thank goodness, though twice the doctors told us her chances were less than 20%.)

After saying the only words I figured this Korean woman, who speaks no English, would understand - “We love you. It’s okay. We love you. It’s okay.” - I stepped back to let the other family members in.

Two of them bent over her and started praying intensely in Korean. I listened to the “hallelujah’s” and “amen’s” with my ears as I watched the I.V. tubes and medical monitors with my eyes.

Right afterward, the surgeon who’d just operated on my mother-in-law’s brain spoke to the entire family. They hung on his every word. When he was finished, I saw no indication of gratitude or thanks to this man who, through the power of science, had just opened my mother-in-law’s skull and saved her life with science’s healing hands.

I don’t mean to attack prayer here. I simply mean to point out that science saved this woman. Her family didn’t take her to a priest for healing. Yet they gave credit to the priest’s paradigm instead of the scientist’s.

I wish I had a Korean translation of cognitive scientist and philosopher Daniel Dennett’s beautiful essay, “Thank Goodness,” written 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

so I could share it with that doctor. (See this post - one of my favorites on this blog - for more on that.)

Two: The Medieval “A” Students

My “Advanced Placement” seniors - 18-year-olds now, ending their K-12 education presumably ready to enter many of America’s “elite” (if you believe the hype) universities - and I recently had a class discussion about what scientists are projecting about the future of our planet. One of the students brought up the prophecies of Nostradamus, and how they’ve been “proven true” - according to something she saw on TV, I think. All the other students in the class chimed in with the same enthusiastic credulity about Nostradamus as the first student. There were no skeptical rebuttals.

I was aghast.

That moment was not uncommon. I’m tempted to say, when it comes to evidence that schools succeed in training students to think critically, that that moment was the norm. (Other teachers, please weigh in here. Is my case different from yours?)

It left me wondering how, after 12 years of daily incarceration and nightly homework, even the students with the highest grades show such an inability to think. The easy answer, as regular readers who know me will predict I’d say, is that the students aren’t thinking about learning all these years, but about making grades.

What answers do you have?

–

Photo: secular, non-secular, non sequitur by Dean Forbes

Related: All posts tagged “Religion“

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Carolyn Foote wrote this week about the new Pew study on the effects of technology on teen writing. An article about the study in eSchool News (free subscription - well worth it - required) pulls out a few details that for me, at least, suggest some weird thinking. The “news” that

[t]eens who communicate frequently with their friends, and those who own more technology tools such as computers or cell phones, do not write more often for school or for themselves than less communicative and less gadget-rich teens

seems hardly news at all, doesn’t it? Is it me, or does it imply that some people think that The Vast Percentage of Teens Who, Like the Vast Percentage of Adults, Do Not Enjoy Writing will suddenly, because somebody plops a laptop, tablet, or cellphone in their hands, have some Road to Damascus experience that magically converts them to the Cult of Writing?

That implication seems embedded in the “finding” above, and it’s about as silly as expecting people to all become economists when they’re given their first checkbook.

If you go into a 1:1 program with fantasies that all students are going to become writers because of it, you’re setting yourself up for failure. Nothing makes a writer but the self-compelled need to write. And that’s a limited commodity now as always.

The eSchool news article continues with this further bit of non-”news,” which this time, though still making me chuckle, also quickens my pulse and gets my dander up a bit:

Teen bloggers, however, write more frequently both online and offline, the study says.

–check that language out, that loopy logic: “Teen bloggers,” we’re told, are teens who write frequently “both online and offline.” I’m no expert, now, but why are we calling teens who write a lot, with and without blogs, “bloggers”?

Any of you adult bloggers out there, are you with me in wanting to correct people who call you a “blogger” - some person who “makes blogs,” apparently, like a designer makes designs and a reporter makes reports - by telling them: “Actually, I’m a freaking writer. I just publish my own writing online on a blog. I don’t buy those daily word-counts on my blog at Wal-Mart. I write them.” Such sloppy language!

(Note that I didn’t say “good writer.” Mediocre and bad writers fill the ranks of bloggers as much as they do of newpapers, magazines, and books.)

It’s been a pet peeve of mine for a long time, this word “blogging.” The label cheapens the practice. Writing bloggers are writers, photo-bloggers are photographers, podcast-bloggers are audio producers, vloggers are video artists, etc, in teenhood as it is in adulthood.

So let’s revise that last excerpt for clarity:

Teen writers, however, write more frequently both online and offline.

Talk about a report from Captain Obvious. Give any writer a journal and pen, s/he’ll scribble away. Give him or her a blog, s/he’ll type away. There’s no mystery here.

Things get weirder here:

Forty-seven percent of teen bloggers write outside of school for personal reasons several times a week or more, compared with 33 percent of teens without blogs.

What, exactly, does that unidentified fifty-three percent of “teen bloggers” who do not “write outside of school for personal reasons” actually write on their blogs, then? Wait — hold it – I think I’m getting a whiff of something. Do you smell it?

Bad air! Bad air! It’s a homework blog! Another moronic oxymoron brought to you by Schooliness, Inc. Let’s cross this 53% off the Book of Writing, and focus on that lovely, remaining 47% who blog write on blogs, not because schools make them, but because they’re writers. Breathe in the perfume, folks - we’re in the rose-garden now of flowering young writers.

They’re the ones I want to teach - because they’re the ones who probably want to be taught about ways to improve their writing.

There. I said it: I’m an elitist as an English teacher.

I’m not a democrat when it comes to teaching writing. Just as Thomas Jefferson believed that all people are born equal, but natural differences create a “natural aristocracy” - one having nothing to do with money and everything to do with spirit (and I mean that naturally) - I believe the same is true in the classroom. A rich kid can’t pay me to want to help him become a better writer if he doesn’t show me, through the evidence of steady, self-impelled production, he has a writer in him. A working-class kid who does have a writer in her - who can point to hundreds of blog posts or journal pages having nothing to do with homework - will find not only my door open during lunch and after school, but also my Skype and Twitter at home. As I said in a comment on Carolyn’s blog, it’s

the bloggers mentioned in the survey above . . . who interest me, . . those who have the will to write, the seed of a writer, in them.

Those “kids” aren’t mere students. They’re writers.

Let’s keep looking at that Pew Garden, and try to find the prize roses. I think I see them hidden in this statistic:

Sixty-five percent of teen bloggers believe that writing is essential to later success in life.

Pop Quiz: Who are the “teen bloggers” who are the true writers?

a. the 65% of “teen bloggers” who “believe writing is essential to later success in life”

b. the 35% of “teen bloggers” who do not believe this.

If you answered “a,” I give you a zero.

To me, the answer is “b.” Because it implies that these young writers are writing not, as most of the consumerism-drugged “school is for money” customers in our classrooms do (and as the students in answer “a” seem to do), “to get a better GPA, go to a better college, get a better job, so I can buy a better house, car, and handbag.” This 35% in “b” wins my vote. They’re the prize roses. They write for the pleasure in the present, not the payoff in the future. [Update: Freshman Arthus trumps me in his comment. He gets an A+, I get a B.]

They’re writers.

A Revised Position Statement on Classroom Blogging, Two Years into the Fray:

And this brings me to the latest position-statement in my evolving views, after two years of experimenting with it in the classroom, of the value and place of blogging to teach writing in schools:

It should only be required in an elective “advanced blogging” class. But we need a better word than that tuneless aural trainwreck of a word, “blah - geeng.”

“Advanced writing,” though I’ve restricted this article to writers because the Pew study does the same, is no better a title, because “blogging” invites the natural talkers and interviewers, singers and raconteurs through podcasting; the natural symbolic and visual communicators through photo and computer graphic, fine arts and video blogging. So “advanced digital communication,” then?

You tell me. But I think you see what I mean, don’t you? Simply a workshop of the thirsty, the hungry to improve - the natural aristocracy of self-expression and communication.

Over the door I would post a big sign:

ROSES ONLY. NO STUDENTS ALLOWED.

Then we’d set to working - making perfume.

Images:

• De Petale, by Christiane Michaud
• untitled, by rosemary*
• rose for you…, by Lyubov

Relevant posts:

• 21st Century Education: Thinking Creatively by Anthony Chivetta, Students 2.0
• Dialogue with a New Student Blogger on the Question of Classroom Blogging

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First, a mini-photo essay on my own point of view about privileging writing over speaking when grading in the collaborative, networking, multimedia century:

Three weeks after the Diigo stampede, I’ve been concerned that the new trend of putting Diigo annotations on posts instead of leaving comments in the thread was a negative thing. Only Diigo users would see the conversation, and the post’s comment thread would be left poorer for that.

But after a wild four-hour storm of 74-and-counting comments on my Muhammed Ali post about privileging writing over other communication strands when we grade, it occurs to me that Diigo might come in handy here. There are so many incredibly insightful comments there, and the issue is so relevant to the futures of our students, that I fear the sheer bulk of comments might dissuade new readers from discovering the gold shining here and there.

Diigo highlights and annotations of the thread might help. If you want to take part in this experiment, go at it. It could be a great way to demonstrate the value of Diigo highlights and annotations as a complement to, instead of a substitute for, blog comments. Because the debate - particularly the one between Benjamin Baxter, who maintains that writing should constitute the bulk of a student’s grade in English/Language Arts and history classes, and opposing viewpoints that grades should more equally credit speaking, graphic language, and more, as articulated by Arthus Erea, Adrienne Michetti, Kirstin “Keamac,” Dean Shareski, Claire Thompson, Sylvia Martinez, Carolyn Foote, and many others - that debate never seemed to reach any resolution.

It sounds like I’m piling on Benjamin here, but I don’t mean to. Fifty million people saying something is true doesn’t make it so. Moreover, Benjamin works in an inner city school, and his arguments are rooted in his perception of what best helps his students’ futures. It differs with mine, but I’m in a different context. And we’re all running on varying assumptions about things like the future of work, the purpose of schooling, and more.

But that thread drifts into so many tangents - the high school freshman Arthus v. high school teacher Benjamin debates are priceless, but sometimes distracting (or am I wrong?) - that I see Diigo, again, as possibly helpful here. Highlight and annotate the strong assertions, the weak rebuttals, the evasions of direct questions and the red herrings, and let others add comments to those annotations.

(This connects, by the way, to a conversation with “Uninspired Teacher” Tom and Charlie A. Roy on the “Schooly Speeches versus Real Talks” post, about using juries instead of judges in mock trials - or better, real ones - to improve that old practice.)

Peter Rock said it took him an hour to read that post and thread (but he also said he read it slowly). That scares me. So many comments in that thread don’t deserve burial in the noise.

So head on over to that thread, if you’re a Diigo convert - especially if there’s a Diigo group on assessment - and have at it.

At the same time, far be it from me to dictate rules. If you want to just comment instead, of course that’s okay.

—

Photos:Toksik by The Sizemore McCabe Project, Continental Paper Grading Company by quinn.anya, Spring Branding Near Crane Oregon 1982 by mharrsch

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