Avenue4Learning

cc photo by cdsessums

Some people like very well-defined lines.

Black and white.

Nice, neat boxed-in rooms with corners.

cc photo by Matt1125

And then there are others who prefer blurry lines.

Grey.

Overlapping circles.

I think that learning is a blurry line. Definitely grey (hey! Brains are grey matter, right?). Things we learn often cross and overlap.

It’s difficult to measure things that are blurry, grey, and overlapping.

Most schools tend to live in that “well-defined lines” area.

Math is done in math class. Science is done in science class. Writing is done in writing class. You get the picture: nice, neat boxed-in rooms with corners.

Learning is measured with black and white numbers.

Personally, I like those grey areas. I like living in the middle. There’s nothing -EST about the middle.

The middle is neither the oldest, nor the youngest.

The middle is neither the highest, nor the lowest.

The middle can be extremely uncomfortable sometimes, because it refuses to be clearly defined.

The middle of the journey isn’t the starting point, and it’s not the ending point.

From the starting point, you can only see forward. From the ending point, you can only see backward. From the middle, you can see all around you.

It’s the beauty of the middle that stimulates learning. So many paths to take. So many beautiful things to experience along the way.

It’s the misfortune of the middle that it doesn’t always lend itself to measurement. To black and white numbers. To nice, neat boxes and well-defined lines.

How do you share the joys of the middle with those who attempt to measure it… and who are subsequently disappointed with the metrics?

A close friend of mine once shared some good advice – share the positive stories. Keep your tweets positive. We need to know the good things that are happening in education.

I agree. There’s so much negative in education these days, that we need to ensure people read and hear all the amazing things that are happening.

I have so much for which to be grateful, and every day, my students do incredible things. It’s easy to share what they’re learning, what they’ve discovered, the funny little things they say. So much good happening!

To be honest, though, I want to be sure to provide a balanced version of what happens in my classroom. If I’m too “Pollyanna,” am I misleading anyone about what happens on a daily basis? If I don’t share the struggles along with the successes, am I giving people the wrong idea about our learning journey?

And if I’m keeping with that honesty… there are some days that are just HARD.

There are days where steps forward that my students have taken all come crashing backward, and it feels like we’re starting all over again. I really believe in the inquiry-based classroom, but there are challenges.

This is the TRUE picture of our classroom:

• Some days, we misuse the freedom we’re given.
• Some days, we are not able to manage the independent learning structure, and we get needy. Even the simplest tasks are outside our realm of abilities for those days.
• Some days, we just want the answers given to us instead of searching and making our own decisions.
• Some days, I expect more from them than they’re able to do in one setting.
• Some days, I get frustrated with things that aren’t really related to my kids.

However, if we look at the learning involved in the difficulties, we find some really major life lessons in those struggles. And as the teacher sharing what we do, I need to be certain to share what ISN’T working just as much as what IS.

I’m really proud of my students. They have come such a long way this year! Have I been as open with what’s troubled them as I have with their successes? Probably not. Maybe that’s my learning curve.

How do you balance those things that you share about your classroom? Two bloggers that I follow regularly, Shelley Wright and Deirdre Bailey, are really good about that balance. You should read them, if you don’t already.

And finally, are you sharing more about what YOU are doing than what your STUDENTS are doing? I admit it’s easy to do sometimes, but I really feel it’s more important to put the focus on the kids. If we’re in this for that “rock star” status, we’re doing it wrong.

Thanks for reading. I value your feedback.

This morning, during our staff professional development time, we all talked about inquiry-based learning. Inquiry is already embedded into our school’s philosophy and practice. Just as we do with students, we spent time this morning reflecting upon our own practice:

• What does Inquiry look like?
• What are we doing already in our learning with our students?
• What is the process?

We also discussed the challenges of an inquiry classroom. Sometimes, the learning is messy and chaotic. Sometimes, the amount of freedom that the kids have overwhelms them, and they don’t always make good decisions. And sometimes, loose deadlines are too much in the “grey area” for those kids who really crave structure and boundaries.

Ultimately, though, those challenges help kids to understand that the process in learning is often more important than the outcome. Mistakes happen. We all make mistakes, and we learn from them. Through inquiry, we reflect on our learning, and we make choices about what we learn, how we learn, and how we demonstrate what we learn.

Our students are thinking critically about decision-making, problem-solving, and sometimes, even behavior choices. They are always asking questions. A LOT of questions! When we have guest speakers or when we go on learning trips, I’m always so pleased to hear our speakers/tour guides remark about the types of questions our kids ask. “Wow, your kids have such great questions!” “Hmm… that’s a really deep question. I’m glad you asked that.” “Boy, you guys sure are curious!” (I’ve heard these three statements in the last two weeks.)

My kids are currently struggling with completing projects. They often have these wonderful ideas, but those ideas don’t always manifest into completed projects. We sometimes have a difficult time, at 8-10 years old, with using our work time to the fullest. Sometimes, we get distracted by each other, by the learning tools we have at our disposal, or by absolutely nothing at all. The latter is what one of my students calls his “spacing out time.” Parents occasionally wonder how we keep our kids accountable if they don’t always finish things during school. Parents like to see neat, high quality, completed projects. I get that, because I do, too. However, as the teacher in the classroom, I have the fortune of also seeing the process – the questions the kids have about different topics, how they decide what they’re going to investigate, and the choices they make in what they do with their learning. Mistakes are made, but again… I get to see how they problem-solve those mistakes. The kids blog about their learning, including what they learned during the process, but they’re not always able to articulate exactly what that process was. My biggest challenge is capturing the process to share with parents and other people. I need to get better at that.

So, my plan today was to come to my classroom, share what we (their teachers) talked about this morning, and then listen to their thoughts about inquiry. Before the kids came to our room, I checked Twitter and noticed my friend, Deirdre Bailey, tweeted about a post she had just written. I clicked on the link and almost fell over. She had just written about the exact same experience in her inquiry-based classroom at Calgary Science School in Calgary, AB. Here’s her post: Savouring the ISH: Outside the Lines: Student Perspectives on Inquiry Learning.

She had just done the exact same exercise with her class that I was planning on doing with my class this morning! I think “serendipitous” might be a new word to share with my class.

I decided not to share Deirdre’s blog post with my kids until after we had done our own reflection.

Questions I asked my students and their responses:

• What exactly IS Inquiry? learning, questions, research, more questions, individual interests.
• What do we use for our research? internet, movies, books, podcasts, speakers, friends, “experts.”
• How do we share our learning? papers, posters, videos, books, drawing, poems, oral presentations, skit/plays, songs, persuasive writing.

After that discussion, I asked them how we learn differently than they did in other schools. They told me that “old school” is very different than “new school.” <– that’s how they decided to categorize them.

Old school is:

• teacher lecturing
• copying work from the teacher (taking notes from the information the teacher gives them)
• worksheets
• lists to memorize for tests
• teacher=the expert
• teacher corrects their work, but the students don’t always understand what they “got wrong.”
• homework that seems like busy work
• less freedom, less choice

They described “new school” as:

• more discussion in large and/or small groups
• sometimes, the teacher models or gives us stories that provide examples (replaces lecture).
• we ask a lot of questions.
• teacher answers questions with questions, and this used to frustrate us. Now we know it helps us think for ourselves.
• teacher asks us, “What do you think about…” which makes us feel like we have an opinion that matters.
• we problem solve more.
• more freedom, more choice
• more responsibility on us to do our work

I then asked them which “school” they prefer, and they all said “new school.” Then we skimmed through Deirdre’s post together, and they were really excited to see that someone else does what we do. When I asked them if they understood the point that Mrs. Bailey was trying to make, a few of my kids realized that it was showing how much responsibility is on them as the learners.

I asked, “if you have freedom, and you don’t use your time to your best ability, what happens?”

One student replied, “We waste time, and then our projects get rushed. We don’t always do our best work.”

Then I wondered aloud, “Hmmm… does it matter if we do our best work?” They all responded that it did, so a short discussion launched about quality of work, learning, accountability, and responsibility. As a teacher, my heart was overflowing… and my mommy heart skipped a few beats, too. THIS is what I wish my own children had been able to do in school.

Today was an inquiry activity about learning through inquiry. They asked questions. They sought out answers for their questions. They talked to each other, and we read about another class’s experience in inquiry. They shared aloud what they learned about their learning.

It’s been a pretty good day in my book.

Every day, you’ll see several (tens? hundreds?) of Tweets and posts recommending “n reasons why x tool is the best/worst idea for education.”

I very much dislike lists.

You can find pros and cons for everything under the sun, but I think we need to stop promoting or discounting tools and focus more on changing pedagogy.

I’d like to write a bit about iPads now. Our school is a 1:1 iPad school, but students are also welcome to bring and use other devices (laptops, iPods, cell phones) to do what best helps them learn.

I’ve read a lot of posts about how iPads are NOT good learning tools, because you can’t learn to type properly on them,  they’re bad for note-taking, you can’t teach programming on them, etc. But in all those posts, we’re looking at an adult’s perspective: adults who learned to type on a keyboard, either in school or on their own. These same adults learned to take notes in school. If they were taught programming at all, it was done on some type of computer with a keyboard.

So, iPads are bad because adults can’t type as quickly on them, and they don’t know how to program on them. Hmm. So, are we saying that students must learn to use specific tools because those are the tools that work best for adults?

What I find interesting about this advice is that no one considered asking a child how they might use an iPad.

What if we asked kids how they would use a device? What if we got out of the way and let them explore? That’s what I have the privilege of doing every day.

One of my students, a 9 year old girl, types more quickly on an iPad than most adults type on a standard laptop. Another one of my students, a 10 year old boy, has his iPad “keyboard” split, and he types like he texts… with his thumbs. Neither of them prefer using a standard keyboard. A couple of my students learned early to type on a keyboard, so they have an iPad case with keyboard. And then there are those students who struggle with typing and writing. Although they practice those skills daily, they also have access to dictation apps that help them as well.

The beauty here is that the students have the option to choose what works best for them, and there is no need for my intervention.

My kids also document their learning in different ways. They have a camera on their iPads that they use to photograph evidence of their learning. They often switch to video mode and record what they’re experiencing while narrating simultaneously. They’ve become documentarians without an adult telling them what they should do.

They create videos to share what they are  learning. During one experiment, while they were making race tracks, the students noticed that the toy race car kept flipping off the track. It was happening so quickly, however, that they couldn’t SEE where their track was failing. One student decided they should record the car racing in slow motion to troubleshoot the problem with their track. Within five minutes, they had the problem solved, because they used their iPads to record using an app called Slow Pro. All of this happened while I watched and said nothing. They had access to a tool that allowed them to quickly grab an app and begin recording immediately.

When we go on learning excursions, they don’t grab their laptops. They grab their iPads so they can take photos and videos easily.  When they take notes, they use an app that not only allows them to type their notes, but also provides options for adding photos and voice recordings.

Some of the kids in our school are learning programming. Did you know there are apps for that too? For my own learning, I’m checking out ScriptKit right now.

iPads work in our school for a number of reasons:

1. Our leadership had a plan in place when making the decision to include iPads as learning devices.
2. In our inquiry-based classrooms, students have a lot of choices in determining what the will learn and how they will demonstrate what they have learned. Every kid is different, and what works for one may not work for another. Their iPads and other devices provide them options.
3. Our teachers were provided iPads to use as well. Everyday, we work together to share what we’re doing and learn from each other.

My purpose in writing this post really isn’t so much about how I love iPads. If your school or district rushes out to purchase large volumes of these devices without any plan, time for learning about the devices, and how those devices will support teaching and learning, then ANY tool will fail.

Additionally, if the tool isn’t used to transform learning, then you’re just wasting money. If you purchase a netbook for every child in your district, but then continue only lecturing while the students take notes, is learning transformed? Or did you just buy a really expensive substitute for paper and pencil?

The tool isn’t the problem. WE are the problem. If we don’t know how to provide options for students and then get out of the way, we aren’t transforming their learning. In my opinion, children need to have access to MULTIPLE devices so that they can make decisions about what best suits them for a specific learning activity.

iPads in the classroom are neither the problem, nor the solution. iPads are tools. However, if you choose to write a list about why iPads are not good for learning, maybe you need to rethink that list. I know a school full of children who can refute your arguments by what they do every single day.

When someone asks you to recommend a great educational leader, whose names come to your mind?

[CC image credit: Leo Reynolds]

Next question… how many of them are currently in the classroom?

Please don’t get me wrong. This is not a post* that is about bashing administrators, educational consultants, or others whose names often come up in leadership conversations. Some of the people I respect the most and who are my very good friends are people with these titles.

I’m concerned, though, that the lack of respect for classroom teachers isn’t just a problem among non-educators. I think WE are all guilty of it, too.

Oh sure… there are the times when a classroom teacher wins an award with a lot of publicity. You’ll hear that teacher’s name often. He/she might be asked to special events, meet with dignitaries, etc. After a year (or maybe less), nada.

It’s ironic when those of us in education discuss educational reform and blame our society’s lack of respect for the teaching profession… yet, is it all that different in our own ranks? Seriously. When was the last time you had a keynote speaker that was someone in the classroom RIGHT NOW?

Don’t even get me started on the percentage of women or minorities invited to share their expertise. Yes, you could name some right now in the comments section, and they would probably be the same people I would list. Compare that number, however, against the norm.

Is it because we, as classroom teachers, are not great at self-marketing by nature? Is that what it takes? Personally, I get tired of people marketing themselves all over Twitter and blogs. Maybe that’s just me.

Or, and this is my sincere question to you, is it because we really don’t respect the people in the classroom as much as we think we do? 

I welcome your thoughts. Thanks for reading.

*Please know that I am more than aware of how important administrators are in a school. They can make such a huge difference in empowering their teachers and children to move forward, take risks, and create an incredible learning environment. I’ve also known, however, many teachers doing amazing things IN SPITE of lousy administrators. This is NOT an anti-admin post.

“Too often we give our children answers to remember rather than problems to solve.” Roger Lewin

It’s been about 12 years now that I’ve had that quote on my email signature. I’m sure I’ve tweeted it out more than a few times as well. Oddly, I can’t make myself change that quote to something else, because I still see that as a major issue in education today.

In my grades 3/4 classroom, I have multiple levels of competency in math. We often start our time in math with similar activities, but then move on to Level 1, Level 2, Level 3, etc. to ensure that the students understand the concepts, are able to find success in what they know and are able to do, but also are challenged to move up to something more difficult.

What I’ve been finding all year is that, regardless of their mastery or lack of mastery in specific concepts, word problems stump them all.

As their teacher, I need to help them find strategies for solving word problems, so we put on our “Math Detectives” hats and started looking at clues. They found that certain words are red flags for certain operations and then created some fun posters, sorted clue words by operations, etc.

That helped, but only a little.

I realized my kids were fixated… perhaps even obsessed with finding the answers. When they are unsure of an answer, they just start guessing and throwing out more answers.

I tell them, “Whoa! Back the truck up here. You don’t even know what the problem is. How can you be answering it already?”

So in our math sessions this week, we’re practicing finding the problem. We have discussed how some problems seem fairly simple and you can see the answer right away in your head, but if you miss one little detail, you’re not even solving the correct problem. How can you find the proper solution if you don’t even understand what the problem is?

We have this same approach to our inquiry block, our reading and writing activities — probably most of the learning activities we do every day. Many times, we learn that there aren’t really answers to some problems. Other times, we discover that some answers that “everyone knows” as specific facts aren’t actually correct. I love that my kids get into the detective role and really think through their discoveries.

This has me thinking about education in general. Everyone and their brother thinks they know how to “fix” education right now. I see all sorts of solutions thrown out there: more testing, more school days/hours, younger teachers, older teachers, Common Core Standards,  flipped classrooms, Khan Academy, passion-based learning…

There are so many answers, I can’t even post them all.

I’m wondering, though, if anyone really has spent time on the problem. What exactly is THE  problem?  Or problems? There are as many theories as there are solutions already suggested, I’m sure. And don’t get me wrong, I think there are troubling issues in the way many children are being educated right now. However, I think most of the proposed solutions aren’t really solving the right problems.

I guess I’m just worried that we’re approaching “fixing” education like my students do with their math problems. Throwing out a bunch of answers before really looking deeply at the problem rarely solves anything properly.

We all have our own agenda. We all have our pet peeves about what kids don’t know, but should. If, however, we were able to come together, free of our agenda and pet peeves, and talk about what is really important for the education of children…

… how would we define that problem?

My dad loves to say, “Don’t fix it if it ain’t broke.”

I’m going to revise that to, “Don’t fix it until you really know what’s broken.”  So let’s start there.

Thanks for thinking along with me.

Learning lessons with my students is probably one of my favorite things about teaching.

We have been working on puzzle problems in math, specifically those that help us practice operational facts (something my grades 3/4 need) and challenge us to think differently about numbers.

Grant Wiggins wrote a post about The Problem of Non-Problems in Math Programs a couple of years ago that I recently re-discovered. As I plan learning opportunities for my students, I am constantly reminded of his words in this post. So many math programs have “problem-solving” listed as a high level goal for students; yet so few math programs ask students to solve anything other than equations. Equations are not problems. In fact, I find that my students are pretty good at solving equations I put in front of them, but they can’t come up with an equation when I put a problem in front of them.

My solution to helping them learn to become better problem-solvers is to give them a lot of math “puzzles” to solve. The math geek in me LOVES these puzzles. My students… not so much.

Today, I heard a lot of whining from my kids– kids who are attending a school like Anastasis because they want to learn, not just do worksheets. The whining sounded like:

Another puzzle? Auuuggghh!

Can’t you just give us a hint?

This is so hard!

So, after a bit of frustration on their part (the math puzzle) and mine (the whining), I gathered them together for a pep talk.

“Of course this is hard. It’s supposed to be challenging. If it were easy, it would show what you already know, rather than what you are about to learn.
You’ve already shown me what you know. I want you to show me what you’re LEARNING. Once you learn how to solve the puzzle, you’re going to feel pretty great about what you accomplished, right?”

They all agreed and then set off to finish their challenge.

I have to admit that I kind of borrowed that pep talk from Tom Hanks in A League Of Their Own (my favorite baseball movie):

Dottie: It just got too hard.

Jimmy: It’s supposed to be hard! If it wasn’t hard, everyone would do it. The hard… is what makes it great!

Maybe that’s how I was taught to learn… that “the hard” is what makes learning great. I’ve always loved puzzles, brain teasers, problems to solve. My favorite teachers were the ones who said “figure it out” and challenged me.

I’m guessing, though, that we (educators) don’t always provide opportunities for kids that make learning great. Giving students work that is difficult only for the sake of being difficult isn’t going to help kids learn anything. [That's my problem with policy wonks who overuse the word "rigor."] On the other hand, giving kids work that is mindless and “easy” does nothing to help them stretch themselves.

This is our second year in our school, where inquiry and problem-solving are foundational concepts… yet, I still find myself occasionally stepping in front of the kids and giving them questions to answer, instead of problems to solve (this is part of a Roger Lewin quote that has been a part of my email signature for many years).

I am a huge advocate of our school philosophy, but it’s so easy to fall back into those habits of how I was taught to teach.

My learning challenge as their teacher is to remember to make the learning great, to challenge them to think and wonder. It’s not always easy to find opportunities for them to learn in this style, so I have to keep working harder to make it happen.

I guess this is my plug for problem-based learning… challenges that take children to the brink of frustration, where they have to struggle just a bit, but aren’t so overwhelming that they can’t ever find solutions. In the midst of learning to solve the problems, kids are also learning perseverance, using their creativity, and analyzing what works and what doesn’t work. And as their teacher, I have to persevere, use my creativity, and analyze what works and doesn’t work FOR THEM.

That’s pretty great, isn’t it?

Today, my class celebrated International Dot Day at Anastasis– that specific blog post will be up next week on our class blog. In conjunction with Dot Day, FableVision partnered with my friend Angela Maiers to include her #YouMatter message (See her TED talk here).

We had a lot of activities planned for today, and we spent a good portion of the last week discussing why it’s important to believe in yourself, try your best, and understand that you do, indeed, matter. Whether you’re five years old or 105, you matter to someone. You make a difference in someone else’s life, whether you know it or not.

Our Dot Wall

For one of our activities, we wrote anonymous dot notes, sharing why someone in the classroom matters to us. We didn’t address them to anyone, and we didn’t sign them. The kids really loved the mystery of being anonymous, but also that their messages would be read by others.

This was by far my favorite activity. The kids walked around reading the dots, wondering for whom they were written, by whom they were written. One of the kids said to me, “I think that one is for you,” and then beamed. I love being a teacher.

The #YouMatter Dot activity got me thinking about every smile, every encouraging word, every pat on the head I give to kids. It also made me think about the times when I’m not so encouraging, and how my actions matter so much to these children. They’re learning all the time, even when I’m not expecting them to do so.

Oddly enough, we had a funny little teachable moment today — have I mentioned how grateful I am to teach and learn in a school where there are no scripts, pacing guides, or state tests to follow? If there were, we probably would have missed out on this lesson today.

When we were deciding together what our #YouMatter Dots could look like, I drew some examples on the board from kids’ suggestions. In one dot example, the kids told me to write, “You sit with me at lunch. #youmatter”  In my haste to write what they dictated, I also began writing on the lower portion of the board. For most adults, even those of us who are height-challenged… handwriting suffers a bit on that part of the board.

Soon, I heard giggles from my kids. When I asked them what was so funny, they noted that my writing looked like “You sit with meat at lunch. #youmatter”  We all laughed together, and I said, “Huh. So I guess spacing matters, too, right?” They giggled some more, and then I shared the fact that punctuation matters… in fact, it can be a life or death situation.

The photo shows part of our mini-lesson… one that we would not have had today if it hadn’t been for a bit of fun. To those kids, fun matters. Friends matter. Learning matters. Curiosity matters… and I matter more to them than I often realize. In less than thirty seconds, a mistake that I made in writing on a whiteboard became a joke and a lesson about writing. Our kids are learning all the time, even when we don’t always expect it… and that’s just another reason I love teaching.

I hope that you realize that you matter in the life of a child. That’s a pretty serious responsibility, but I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do… can you?

cc licensed Flickr photo by neptunecanada

I read this article today on CNN’s Schools of Thought Blog: “Want more kids to take calculus? Convince mom first,” by Jamie Gumbrecht. In the post, there is research stating that involving parents in talking points about math and science electives will be more likely to influence kids to choose those classes:

“These are the critical years in which mathematics and science courses are elective, and our results indicate that parents can become more influential in their children’s academic choices if given the proper support,” the study says.

How simple was that support? Just a couple of brochures, a web site and a little guidance about how to use the information.

My initial reaction after reading was one of wanting to push back.

First, as some of you know, I tire of the constant push for more STEM, more STEM, more STEM. Please don’t misunderstand. I love math and science! When I had the options in school to select electives, I chose calculus and advanced science classes. As a teacher, I get all geeked out with my students when we stumble upon interesting activities that involve math and/or science (read “geeked out” as getting extremely excited about all the amazing learning possibilities). [photo credit: Science Lab by neptunecanada]

BUT… shouldn’t we be concerned about pushing certain content areas at the expense of others? What about the kids who really don’t have an interest in pursuing careers in math, science, engineering, etc? I believe in exposing kids to many areas so they can discover what they don’t know they don’t know, as well as to start to put the pieces together to understand the world around them.

And how about the misguided information from those who form education policy stating that we don’t have enough scientists or engineers? Read:

Do We Really Have A Scientist Shortage?

US Pushes for more scientists, but the jobs aren’t there

(There are many more… I’d be glad to link them here if you add them to the comments section.)

We know that what is valued eventually becomes policy. And in current US education, that also means what is assessed. Again, placing too much emphasis upon certain content areas does so at the expense of other areas… and at the expense of kids.

My oldest daughter graduated high school in 2007. She liked science, and declared biology as her major at university. After almost two years of that, she called me and was rather upset. She felt she needed to change her major to English. After a long discussion reassuring her 1) that changing her major was not a horrible thing and 2) that she should do what she loves, she promptly changed her major. She adores writing and editing and is now an assistant editor for a local publication company. After the fact, I asked her why she was so upset about changing her major. She said she felt pressured to go into something “more academic,” and she was worried about availability of jobs for a BA in English. Science and math classes were heavily encouraged in her high school.

Now to argue with myself – sometimes “marketing” helps kids to see themselves in a future they didn’t realize was possible. This could be due to stereotypes based in race, gender, status. My favorite way to ‘combat’ the stereotypes is to share examples with my students of strong role models who cross those lines. Is that enough, though?

Marketing can go horribly wrong, though, as evidenced here: How not to market science to girls

(That’s fodder for another blog post.) Moving right along…

Another question I  am still wondering and have blogged about before: why do we continue to teach content areas only in isolation? I agree that there are concepts that probably should be taught separately to avoid confusion and to allow deeper exploration. However, if we want kids to be able to think about what they want to learn and how they will apply that to a career or lifestyle, they must see how those concepts apply in their world. Content areas must overlap, because that’s what they do in everyday life.

In other words, in order to specialize later, they must see how everything fits together at an early age. We are  not doing this in most schools.

So again… having mom and dad sit you down with a glossy brochure (as noted in the calculus/science article I mentioned at the beginning of the post) essentially marketing math and science classes… is that really where we want to take our kids? Aren’t they already get enough marketing thrown at them every single day?

I’m not sure exactly how to feel about this. I do know I sat with my own kids when they were filling out their choices or class schedules. We talked a lot about options and how those choices could possibly shape where they wanted to go in their learning adventures.

Help me, please… share your thoughts.

I wrote this on Coronado – June 23, 2012

I waited almost a week to write my ISTE takeaway post, because I really wanted to process the discussions, the sessions, and the entire experience. I love attending the conference – seeing old friends, meeting new friends, and talking education into the late hours of the night.

The ISTE conference is so enormous, it is a wonder to me that any two people could have similar experiences (unless they stay glued to each other’s sides the entire time). Also, this may have been the first year that I have enjoyed all three keynotes (although I watched Dr. Yong Zhao on video instead of live), and I have so many ideas swirling around in my head from them. I can’t wait to talk to my colleagues and students about them and see what ideas they have!

I didn’t even once make it to the Exhibitors hall this year. I’m not a huge fan of the “in-your-face” marketing style from many of the vendors (orange morphsuits – really?), but there were a few I really wanted to find and say hello.

There were a lot of really great things I learned at ISTE… and more importantly, there were a lot of new connections made. I think, though, that those are always the benefits I take away from ISTE. For now, I want to write about a “takeaway” that has me thinking the most, and that’s the “Either OR” mentality.

At every conference, as well as in many blog posts and tweets, we often read about this great tool or that great company and how these are the saviors of education. Whether it’s the debate of iPad vs Chromebook vs laptop, Dropbox vs Google Drive, Flipped vs Non-Flipped Classrooms vs Khan Academy… I’m constantly wondering why we have to debate them in an “either this or that” fashion.

Yes, if you are in a large school district, and you want money to purchase tools, it is more cost efficient to buy, for example, 10,000 laptops or 10,000 iPads. But I rarely hear that as justification for the debates. I’m not going to even attempt to post links to all the arguments for or against iPads or any other specific tool, because there are simply too many. Do a quick search for “flipping the classroom” and you’ll find hundreds of resources, as well as pro and con arguments. These discussions  and  (most of the time) civil arguments continued face to face in sessions, the Bloggers’ Cafe, the Social Butterfly Lounge, and in hallways at ISTE: “The Flipped Classroom is the best way to teach.” “I’m a Chromebook user and would never use an iPad with students!” These are statements, among several others, that I actually heard from people during the conference.

Please pardon my slow-ish processing, but… what if we weren’t forced into “Either OR” thinking about any of this? What if, in addition to differentiating what and how our students are learning, we also differentiated the tools they used to learn? What if, in any given day, my classroom contained students working on Chromebooks, iPads, smart phones, and paper? What if they had the freedom to choose using an app or a web tool of their choice? What if some chose to watch a video at home and do “homework” during class time, and others chose the opposite? (I know this isn’t the exact definition and practice of “flipping” a classroom, but bear with me.)

Obviously, there are some web tools/apps that are not free, so this option doesn’t work if students choose to work in premium tools to which the school isn’t subscribed. There are, however, several web services and apps that ARE free, and I want my students to be able to make choices (albeit guided choices in many cases) about which tools work best for them.

There was a lot of discussion about personalizing education for kids at this conference… much more than I’ve ever heard before. If we truly want to provide personalized learning for our students, how can we live in an “Either OR” environment when it comes to how they learn and what they use to help them learn?

My takeaway is this: we shouldn’t force our students into “Either OR” learning of concepts and skills. We shouldn’t force them to use a specific tool because it’s preferred by one of the adults in the room. We shouldn’t force them into an instructional/learning style because it’s what works best for the adults or most of the students in the classroom. We need to personalize learning… and understand what that really means.

To me, personalized learning means our classrooms cannot resemble the classrooms of the 1900s or the 2012s. There cannot be 25, 30, or more students shoved into a room with one adult who tries to meet all of their needs. Students can no longer be grouped by possibly the only thing they have in common – their ages. And we can no longer give them the “Either OR” option.

There must be fluidity in learning… in the tools they use, with whom they are learning on a daily basis, how they learn and communicate what they are learning. They need school to look and feel different. They need their school days to be free of bells and strict, unchanging class schedules. Our kids need the freedom of “AND.”

“In our school, we use laptops, and Chromebooks, and iPads. We use Google Docs and Tapose, and… ”

I’d like to approach the freedom of “AND” the same way I do a smörgåsbord. You can’t eat everything on the table and not regret it later (well, at least I can’t). Go up to the table, find the things with which you are familiar and know you like. Next time, try something new. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat it. Go back and get something else. Maybe it’s another new food. Maybe it’s an old stand by. Eat the foods that work for you.

That’s a discussion I’d like to have before the next ISTE.