Sunday, March 28, 2010

Where do we set the Thermostat?


In my first go around with getting a Master’s Degree a generation ago (the one I didn’t finish), one of the courses exposed me to Teaching as Subversive Activity by Neil Postman and Charles Weingartner. (It's still in print - go to Amazon ) Of course, being a young buck full of idealism, the title was provocative – in the best sense. Teaching was an agent for change – at least that’s how I was taking it. One idea they championed was teaching as inquiry. As one who grew up in the ‘60s, that was appealing, indeed. The work we would do with our students, and teaching as a vehicle, could move them, individually and collectively, to places that society, as it was, might not.

Another of the ideas that Postman and Weingartner put forth in their writing was that of the thermostatic view of education. In essence, this view (written in the 1960’s) means that (school) education should balance the biases of the electronic information environment that surrounded the students. In essence, this view put forth the proposition that it was the job of good education to act like a thermostat – if it was hot, cool it down. If it was cool, warm it up . . . the “it” (in my selective memory) was the atmosphere or ethos that current (educational and societal) culture, as a whole, proffered. In this view, it was education’s job to act as a counter-balance to society’s pressures.

Keep your mind and eye open, question and probe. Look beyond (or behind) the “what is” (being presented). Look underneath. Find the truth.

To this youthful educator, the idea resonated. It was my job to attempt to get my students to buff off (or scrub off) the patina that the day’s reality (be it thinking or society’s biases), and to get them to think. Clearly.

Of course, I viewed this as a way for us to break out of (educational) tradition and move “forward” into exciting new ground.

A generation later, after spending my career in education, with the explosion of possibilities that technology has brought us, offers, and promises, I find that I don’t feel quite like that newly minted teacher back in the ‘70s. In fact, sometimes I even feel a bit conservative (even though there is a bit of guilt in that admission).

At times, the flood of possibility and new fangled ways makes me want to say “Whoa!” Hold on minute! Sometimes the “how” technology affords us to explore seems to skip the “why”.

Am I being resistant to change because I am an old dog . . . . or have the lessons Teaching as a Subversive Activity allowed me to learn resurfaced in a slightly new form from my deep educational psyche and making sure that my work (and my kids’ learning) will continue to be meaningful and powerful.


Despite the new reality . . . or because of it.

Plus ça changes, plus ça même choses?

I wonder what Postman and Weingartner would say today.

Turning on the Light


Each morning when I enter the darkness of my office, after turning on the overhead light and air con, I switch on the lovely Thai-style lamp that stands on the bookcase in the corner, next to one of the large windows facing the MS Quad. Once that special light is on, I put down my bag, sit at my desk, start up my computer, log in and begin my work day.


The light of that lamp (or others before it) represents the special light of what a good middle school is and can be. Each time I turn it on, I am reminded of the special people (young and old) and meaningful experiences that are part of my middle school educational journey. I also remind my self that the “today” that will be happening this day to those (young or old) who interact with me could/should become special parts of their journey.


While the lamp, itself, does not throw off a great many watts of light, it does fill my office . . . and I hope, lights the way for my day.


The nature and needs of middle school aged children are unique in many ways. Working with their nature to meet their needs is the collective job of a good middle school structure and the purpose of each of our individual efforts.


We need to work with their nature. To guide and shape, to reinforce and support. And in reference to the name of this blog . . . to Set the Stones.


As technological natives, their adolescent energies have allowed them to completely embrace and build into their lives technologies that still often provide me with ample opportunities for befuddlement.


While my befuddlement may cloud my understanding of “how all of this works” (as a technological immigrant), my understanding, though, of these special kids whose “air to breathe” is being connected, being able to have a voice and a choice, wanting to know (now!), and making a difference helps me de-befuddle why the kids are so taken with it all.


This understanding has been crucial for me as an educator – for it allows me to catch (at least) two fish with one hook. The (effective) use and integration of technology into my kids learning experiences will help make their learning more meaningful and vital. The (effective and insightful) use and integration of technology into my kids learning experiences will also use their very nature – their being – so that their needs are attended to in the process.


Over my desk are two photos of Pete Straub . . . one as a 7th grader, one as an 8th grader. Looking at the photos remind of what I needed and help me sort out how new ideas, techniques, and technologies could apply to him.


The smile on Pete’s face, as he looks down at me working at my desk reminds me that the most important thing I need to do in my work is to remember to, each day, turn on that light.

Monday, March 15, 2010

Thinking about New Stones

Since the name of this blog is "Setting the Stone Circle", it might be wise to periodically touch the stone (sorry, pun sort of intended with 'touch-stone') to stay grounded. The burning center of my professional being that fuels my work is to help create a (safe) space for my kids to learn. T It is not about the curriculum, it is about creating a space for kids to learn so they can do the hard work of learning and making sense.

I don't "teach Science", I "teach kids" . . . . or should I say, "I help kids learn" . . . . this essence has been my foundation for years . . . . and now being challenged to think of teaching in new ways because of the technology that is so interwoven into our lives and schools . . . . the essence remains.

It is not about the technology, it is about us creating (virtual) spaces using technology that will foster to an even greater degree, our kids learning, collaborating, connecting and making sense.

Earth shaking? Probably not, but just articulating it helps me touch the technology (and implications) with understanding fingers and makes me feel less of technology immigrant. I am gaining a sense of moving from doing old things old ways to old things new ways and even (perhaps) new things new ways.

With this perspective, I find that my view and feelings of being back in the classroom ( faced with a new curriculum that feels very planned out) are quickly morphing into collaborative visions of exploration and connection. How can I use the (planned out) experiences of the Science program as springboards for my students to explore, connect, collaborate, question, and choose? How can I make (transform) common assessments into differentiated springboards for new learning and understanding in the public square?

My sense is that technology will be affording me a chance to take another step toward becoming what I have professed to be striving to be one who truly educates (from ex ducare = to lead out).

New skills and familiarities will need to be learned. Some perspectives will need re-focus. Now I have some new stones to work with. New tools. New possibilities.

But we'll still be setting the stone circle. And for me, that makes all the difference.

Monday, March 8, 2010

The Art of Teaching

This article from the NY Times, Building a Better Teacher, hits the sweet-spot for me.

There is, indeed, an art to teaching.

And yes, technology can assist us in that art, but it cannot replace it.

The article is worth a read.

An Ex-Hippy Who Couldn't Quite Do It

I am a child of the '60s. Was consumed by the civil rights movement, the anti-war movement (applied for Conscientious Objector status for those of you who might remember it), the music, and was swept along into the make love, not war culture. Smoked my share, had a pony-tail (when it meant something), and sort of felt we were onto some Truth, with a capital T. Could never really "let go", though, to really do the hippy-thing and completely chuck the core of what I had been taught.

Time does funny things. Knocks some of the edges off along the way . . . but the essence of where I came from, my youthful education and my idealism are still part of my core.

Except I am older. My career (now approaching forty years) and life have used up some of my zing and I am slower to wrap my head around some new ways of doing things (and much quicker to forget some things.)

But I do try.

As a learner who continually thrives on making connections, I find I need to reflect back into my core - to reconnect to the Truths that have made themselves evident - and try to apply them to what is "current" (although that is already past, so I really need to apply them to the future . . . ).

It wasn't too awfully long ago that I was able to be riding the wave of the cutting edge (or at least the blade) in learning, assessment, and to some degree, technology. Because back then the three weren't so inextricably connected. As shared in Jeff Utech's recent post The Next Phase of Technology at ISB, things have happened quickly in my setting . . . and it seems that most of it has happened since I left the classroom.

Blogs, RSS, Web 2.0, Moodles, Wiki's, Facebook, Google Apps, YouTube . . . this old dog is having to learn how to fetch again. But fetching with some wisdom (I hope).

"Back in the day" for us young upstarts, it was all about "the kids" and their learning, connection, and meaning making. With our fists raised, it was "Up the establishment!"

Now, as the establishment, it is still (or again) all about "the kids" and their learning, connection, and meaning making. NCLB, indeed.

Interestingly, I just attended an EARCOS weekend workshop Pathways to Understanding: Patterns & Practices in the Learning Focused Classroom, presented by Dr. Laura Lipton. While the weekend was essentially technology free, her message is directly applicable to all these "new tricks". The catch phrase I came away with was "Learning is individually built, but socially constructed."

Like the hippy of forty years ago who couldn't quite do it, something inside of me will not let me completely "let go" of how I approach learning . . . but burning in my core is a view of the Truth in the possibility of youngsters and their learning . . . it will be my task to learn what I can, incorporate these new tools as best I can . . . and just like forty years ago, dream of the empowering possibilities.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Information Literacy . . . What I Hope to Gain

The past few years have seen an explosion of digital tools and technologies that our students are growing up with and view as part of their reality, that many of our (younger) colleagues are intimately connected to, and that, love them or hate them, they will increasingly become integral to our effective work in education.

The past few years have also seen my professional role at ISB shift from being an educator based in a classroom, focusing on learning and assessment issues, to being an administrator of activities and athletics, focusing on the details of events, rosters, and to-do lists.

Perhaps ironically, my engagement and focus in working with and supporting (athletic and performing arts) teams has helped removed me from feeling or being part of a greater professional learning community. While my work involves so many young people and is school-wide, it is in many was a very singular endeavor. I was a department of one.

I need to re-connect. This year, I am back in the classroom (for one class), making the re-connection more important.

I deeply believe that activities and athletics in schools are “as curricular” as any written curriculum. While I have done some (original) work in assessing and articulating student learnings gained from participation in activities (tied to ISB’s Mission Statement), the attention required to deal with the daily alligators that snap at my back-side have made it difficult for me to pay attention to my dream of draining the swamp.

Being part of this course (and program) will give me the impetus/excuse to get back into the (new) game so I can . . .

  • make (more) effective use of digital tools to locate and use information resources that support research about co-curricular activities and the important learning that occurs there,
  • become connected to and participate in learning communities to explore creative applications of technology to improve the assessment and articulation of student learning in co-curricular activities,
  • evaluate and reflect on current research and professional practice on a (more) regular basis so that I can efficiently make effective use of digital tools and resources in support of student learning in co-curricular activities,
  • contribute meaningfully to the effectiveness, vitality, and self-renewal of the education profession and of my school.

Working with children in helping them grow, discover and learn is a sacred endeavor. Over the years, I have been afforded a number of very special partnerships with colleagues as together we explored providing “the best deal” we could for our students.

As the learning-scape for our students has changed, so, too, have the opportunities for us to become part of learning communities.

These expanded learning communities could be viewed as an expanded tribe of elders setting the stone circles for your young people.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Why We Are Stone Setters

Just about a generation ago, literally, I was wandering around the text driven rooms of the ACSU BBS. It felt so out there . . . and I felt so . . . on the edge of the bubble. Like today, the wandering and exploring was with the high ground of learning as the peak in the clouds.

The journey continues . . . the landscape changes, some partners have fallen off, some stayed, and others have joined . . . and the high ground remains the high ground.

The journey also has become tied to a lovely story about the walkabout in Australia. The story of the Stone Circle. When the adolescent aboriginal boy heads out on his walkabout - his vision quest - he is followed (unknowingly) by elders of his clan. At night, the youth sets a stone circle around himself, meant to metaphorically be protection from "what is out in the darkness". Out in the darkness, the elders have formed a true protective circle around the youth. They also make a sound that the boy has been taught means "death is near".

The elders know that the young man needs to complete his vision quest on his own, and are creating the safe (metaphysical) space in which he can endure his struggle.

The Stone Circle.

All we do . . . is to create the Stone Circle . . . for our students and colleagues. And perhaps they can help create the Stone Circle for us.