What happens when passionate educators all over the world get together to collaborate and offer FREE professional development?
The Reform SymposiumWorldwide E-Conference.
I highly recommend you check the schedule and plan to attend!
What happens when passionate educators all over the world get together to collaborate and offer FREE professional development?
The Reform SymposiumWorldwide E-Conference.
I highly recommend you check the schedule and plan to attend!
My family jokes with me that attending ISTE is just an excuse for me to have a vacation with my friends. As I sit and think about that, I know that some part of it is true. Where else can I go to find 18,000 or so people who share with me many of the same core values and beliefs about education?
Another big part of ISTE is attending some great sessions… and there were so many great sessions! From EduBloggerCon on Saturday to poster sessions, ISTE Unplugged, and even taking part in presenting a panel session with three great educators whom I admire greatly… there’s just so much learning and sharing taking place at this conference!
But the most valuable part of attending ISTE for me is the building of relationships. In some cases, it’s about seeing old friends, catching up, and bonding. It’s also about meeting new people, discussing new ideas, learning from each other, and beginning conversations that will continue long past the closing keynote at ISTE (which, by the way, was a phenomenal closing keynote by Chris Lehmann– go watch it here if you haven’t already!).
I’m not sure why this last point is so difficult to explain to people who have never experienced it. The experiences we have– whether they’re taking place in a session, in the Bloggers’ Cafe, the Newbie Lounge, walking to lunch, or at a table while listening to some really fun karaoke– seem, to many people on the outside, like one big party. In some ways, that may be true… BUT it’s also much, much more than that. The friendships I’ve forged in attending ISTE conferences over the last 6 years have been some of the most meaningful, both professionally and personally. These are not my “imaginary” or virtual friends and colleagues. These are real people who have enriched my life for the better.
There are many discussions amongst world leaders, economists, business leaders, and educators about the pros and cons of competition. Some of the most spirited debates in which I’ve participated have centered around competition and students. Arguments usually include the following:
[cc licensed photo by mtsofan]
I’ve taught in both the secondary and elementary levels in public K-12 education. I’ve witnessed kids competing for spots on athletic teams, music performing groups, art awards, National Honor Society and other honoraries… for grades, for representing the class as valedictorian, for speaker at graduation… to be first in line for lunch, first in line for recess, for the fastest time at Field Day, for a solo at the 4th grade program…
… for the biggest helping of lunch (because it’s probably the only meal of the day)… for that coat in the lost and found (because there isn’t enough money at home to buy one)… for the attention of the teacher (because attention from an adult is rare and precious outside of school)…
It seems to me that kids live and breathe competition every day of their lives.
When do they learn to work toward the good of all?
Maybe I’m just getting old and sentimental, but watching the news out of Japan after the horror they’ve experienced in the last month has me really thinking… if we spend so much time on competition and racing to be the best, that leaves a LOT of people in our dust. What if people need our help? What about those people left behind? Should we sit and smugly congratulate ourselves on being the best and beating everyone else? How does that help us as a society in the long-term?
Don’t get me wrong… I’m not advocating that we give out “participation” trophies or ribbons for just showing up and not putting forth any effort. It just feels like we’ve cultivated a culture of competition at any cost, and that’s where I see so many problems.
In my music classroom, my students and I often discuss that our goals are very different than they are in other classrooms. No matter what we’re doing, whether it’s preparing for a concert/performance, or simply learning a song for the sake of the music, we’re learning together. “In math class, it’s all about YOU. In music class, it’s all about US.” They probably tire of hearing me say that, but it sticks with them. I heard one of my students explaining the concept to a new student one day.
When we learn something new- a new recorder song, for example- there are going to be some kids who learn more quickly than others. In our environment, those “advanced” kids now have a special responsibility: help those students who haven’t yet learned the song. We do a lot of peer group work, and I am either walking around as a guide or am working with those who need the most help. With shared responsibility in the class, we see improvement in all. More importantly, I see my students building skills in patience, empathy, and caring, as well as their own musical skills.
Now for a little disclosure: I’m a highly competitive person; but I think as I’ve grown up, it’s become more about competing with myself and less about competing with others.
At what point does competition, whether it’s in the market place or in the classroom, do more harm than good? When corporations throw ethics under the bus to eke out higher profits, everyone suffers except for the people at the top. When we push kids to compete against each other in everything they do, they learn that the SELF is more important than the collective GROUP.
And in the end, nobody wins… especially not kids.
I know there are a lot of people who disagree with me on this subject, so let’s have it. Debate me in the comments, please.
In many school district mission statements I read, the words “success” and/or “successful” often appear. Preparing children to be successful after a PK-12 experience… what exactly does that mean?
Will their education provide them with the skills and knowledge they need to succeed in their world? Is that how one becomes successful? Is it about attending a post-secondary institution? Is it about a paycheck? Is it about contributing and giving back to society?
[cc licensed photo by RambergMediaImages]
The other day, I had a conversation with some friends about the push to send more kids to college. I brought up the fact that, perhaps, not everyone needs or should go to college. There was a hushed silence right after I finished my sentence… imagine a teacher saying that maybe college isn’t for everyone?!?!
I quickly followed up with an explanation- my point isn’t that some kids aren’t worthy of a college degree. In fact, it’s quite the contrary. For some kids, college isn’t worthy of them. Not everyone needs to spend exorbitant tuition fees (and dormitory costs, and textbooks, and…) to find their niche in life.
There’s a young man I know, about 22 years old, who attended a trade school and learned about auto mechanics. He LOVES cars. He can tell you nearly anything you want to know about an engine. He can fix nearly any vehicle. At this time, he is employed by a very large company in our city, and he makes a very nice living. More importantly, he’s very happy doing what he does. A typical four-year institution was not in his master plan.
I told his story, and instantly, a friend replied, “Oh, and he will probably make more money than most of us will in our lifetime and not have the same amount of debt from all those college loans!” A few others replied with more statements about how much money this kid would go on to make. As I asked them a few questions, it became very evident to me that their measure of success was the amount of money he would make.
Is that what we’re supposed to be preparing kids to do after they leave school? Make a lot of money? Is that the measure of “success?”
Silly me, but I thought it was something as simple as this:
That’s MY definition of being successful. What’s yours?
I’m a little disturbed by some behavior that I’ve seen amongst my learning network lately. I’ll be the first to admit that I can be a hot head and jump into discussions passionately… with little thinking first. That’s a character flaw I work very diligently to turn around.
My sense of dismay, though, comes from what I’ve seen lately around the Twitter-Water-Cooler, the edublogosphere, a few journal articles here and there, as well as a few Facebook posts. And Holy Buckets, Batman… there isn’t a single kid involved in any of them.
No. Instead, they’re people in my network. Attacking… *gasp*… each other.
What do we tell kids about comments on blogs, online articles, Facebook status updates?
So why so much animosity amongst educators in online spaces lately? I would say that the current turmoil in which we find ourselves (perhaps related to education reform discussions) is part of it. But are we practicing what we preach? I don’t think so.
Let’s all take a deep breath. Relax. Repeat.
There. Feel better? Now go and model what you expect your students to do.
Oh! And… go find a blog and leave a supportive comment. The world could use some positive energy right about now.
Thanks.
[photo credit – cc licensed Flickr photo by jon_gilbert]
That’s what it’s coming down to… class wars in our schools.
With the budget cuts at the federal, state, and local levels, politicians are creating class wars in education. Our ‘illustrious’ Secretary of Education states that we in public education will have to learn to do more with less funding. This is tagged as “The New Normal.” But what happens when budget cuts are so severe and un-funded mandates regarding test scores, AYP, etc. continue to pile on?
This is what happens:
The wealthy pull their kids out of public schools, if they haven’t done so already, and pay to have them educated in a school of their choosing. Those parents find the schools that provide the programs they want for their children. These schools are not necessarily subject to federal mandates, usually have significantly less standardized testing, and often have much of the school day devoted to enrichment studies beyond math and language arts.
Children living in poverty do not have those options. They continue to attend schools with less funding. These are the schools which are forced to cut libraries, teacher librarians, music, art, drama, theater, physical education, recess… all those teachers, classes and programs that research says are best for kids to grow, develop, and learn.
For those kids in more affluent families, even if they have no private choices for school, parents still find and pay for programs outside the school day- club sports, private music instruction, etc. – to fill the void that is missing in the public schools. Kids in less affluent families are left to their own devices.
If, as Horace Mann stated:
Education, then, beyond all other devices of human origin, is the great equalizer of the conditions of man, – the balance-wheel of the social machinery.
… it seems as if our politicians are out to upset that “balance-wheel. ” Without a strong public education available for ALL students, we cannot have democracy, or even our representative democracy. We will have separate classes of education and an ever-growing divide between the have’s and the have-not’s.
I would argue, Mr. Duncan, that this is NOT the new normal. This is a disgrace to the children of the country you purport to serve.
I was so fortunate to facilitate a conversation at EduCon 2.3 with Kyle Pace, Yoon Soo Lim, and Elizabeth Peterson! We are four very passionate educators, and talking about Cultivating Connections through Arts Integration is obviously something about which the four of us are deeply passionate.
We wrote a reflection, along with Andrew Garcia (who attended our EduCon session virtually) about our experience collaboratively in Google Docs. Elizabeth has posted the “finished product” on her blog. Please take some time to visit and read about the continuing conversation (#artsint on Twitter)!
I’ve been thinking a lot since the Amy Chua, aka Tiger Mom, posts and reaction articles exploded last week, including Michelle Rhee’s own response.
Mostly, I’ve been trying to wrap my brain around what people consider necessary skills or necessary knowledge versus sheer talent.
So, what exactly do we expect kids to know and be able to do? Does talent fit in this answer? Or do we explain away that some people have God-given talents that most don’t have… and that’s okay?
[cc licensed photo by Eagle102.net]
Here’s my thought process:
Point 1: I was born with an incredible memory. My parents did not force me to perform memory exercises over and over and over until it clicked. That’s just how I was born. Because of this memory ability, I learned how to read as a toddler. This advantage helped me to excel in school, especially in those classes that rarely asked more of me than simple recall or application. I was a test-taking whiz!
Point 2: In music, I would say that I have a lot of “gifts.” Because of my parents’ encouragement and, at some points, insistence, that I practice, I learned to excel in areas of music… however, I was surrounded by music at a very young age. I was singing into a microphone before I could walk. My dad is an extremely talented musician. Interestingly enough, both my siblings and I are considered very musical people. We’ve put in a lot of hard work and practice time, and it has paid off. How much of our “talents” would you say are natural? How much did our environment factor into our abilities? How much of it was our desire to practice and improve? And how much of it was our passion for music?
Point 3: Although I love softball and golf, I have to admit that am a terrible basketball player. Horrible. Painfully horrible! My dad used to take us out to our backyard and either throw baseballs at us (to help us not fear the ball) or practice dribbling and jump shots. From the ages of 10-18, I played softball competitively. I loved softball, and I practiced a lot. I have never played basketball competitively. I practiced dribbling for hours, as well as many, many jump shots. I practiced layups, but I hated it. In fact, I hated everything about basketball except watching others play. No matter how hard I practiced, I was never as good as the other kids on my basketball teams. I feared the time in the game when the coach would put me in, because I didn’t play well… and I didn’t really WANT to play.
My dad never gave up on me. He set very high expectations for me and told me that all I needed was more hard work. I would be a dribbling machine, if I would just practice more.
But here’s the deal… all the years of practice did help me improve my game, but I was still awful… and I HATED it.
Many reading this post might argue that you have to have talent to be a musician or a basketball player. I don’t agree. You can learn to sing in tune, and you can learn to dribble. Maybe the degree to how well you do those things lies within your natural talents… but I think it’s more likely found within your own passion.
Many might also defend the point that memorizing facts is an essential skill. Again, I don’t agree. These things come more naturally to some than they do others. It doesn’t mean we stop setting high expectations for each individual, but it does mean that we need to recognize that some people do not memorize as well as others.
So, here’s where my thought processes are leading me:
I’m not arguing to let children pick and choose exclusively what they learn in school. Kids need exposure to a variety of experiences, along with someone helping them to keep raising the bar on what they are able to do. I really believe in continually pushing up that bar to help kids challenge themselves and accomplish a task they couldn’t perform at first.
At some point in their academic ‘careers,’ however, is it foolish for us as educators and parents to keep expecting the same goals for all kids? If they must all get A’s on their report cards, like Amy Chua’s children, or pass certain standardized tests- some of them will reach that goal easily. Others will have to work fairly hard to get to that point. Some might continue to work hard over and over until frustration sets in- and then they might stop caring about ever achieving anything. We tell them that, with hard work and a positive attitude, they can accomplish anything… but is that true? Can we accomplish anything simply through determination and hours upon hours of practice?
I practiced layups for hours upon hours. I know HOW to do a layup, and I can tell someone else how to do it… but to this day, I’m still not able to make a layup consistently. The difference here is – making a layup was not a skill I needed to graduate and no one really cared about it (other than my dad).
Maybe a better question is this: When do kids get to choose to follow their OWN passions and grow in those areas? What is the magical age for them to start making these decisions? I asked my parents this question once, and they thought it might be college-age. I’m afraid that’s too late for most kids.
What do YOU think?
As a teacher and parent, I’m constantly reminded that children learn at different rates. Sometimes, it’s an issue of what is developmentally appropriate and, other times, it’s about their readiness. For some kids, there are occasions when they simply are not ready to learn something new. It might be due to some current event in their lives or whether they had breakfast that morning… whatever the case, it’s my job to help them get to that stage of being ready to learn.
Repeat after me: I cannot force readiness.
[cc licensed photo by kevindooley]
Now I want to transfer this same concept to adult learning, and in this case, professional growth of educators, specifically in the areas of ed reform, social media, and other web tools.
There are many, and I would include myself, who are considered early adopters in the above areas. We clamor for change NOW and reform NOW. For years, we’ve been using certain tools that some people are only now discovering. For example, I started blogging over seven years ago. There are quite a few people who have been blogging for much longer than I have. When a new tool comes around, I’m usually hopping on that bandwagon to see what it’s about, does it provide value to me, and will I continue to use it. It’s in my nature to tinker around with something that interests me. Sometimes, I get impatient that change doesn’t happy quickly enough for my tastes.
Because I’m an early adopter in these areas, it might be easy for me to then complain about the “glacial pace” of other educators when it comes to learning about new ideas, new tools, and making real changes in education. Come on! I’ve been doing this for almost a decade… get a move on! Maybe I would express my frustration about the perceived banal chatter or echo chamber mentality regarding topics that I’ve already been discussing with my networks for years.
But that would be extremely hypocritical of me. If there are children who, for one reason or another, are not ready to learn a concept or skill, it’s my job to help them move along and get to that place where they are ready.
So… shouldn’t I also be accepting of other educators who have not quite reached that state of readiness? Shouldn’t I continue to offer my assistance, perhaps in the form of webinars or online opportunities, to help fellow educators learn about those things that are new to them, even if they’re not necessarily new to me? What about brand new educators? What if they were not exposed to any of these things in their teacher education? How will they find new ideas? Where will they receive options to extend their own professional growth?
The answer is the same as it was with the children: I cannot force readiness. I can only do what I can to help others move to that next step in their own growth. Peer coach. Offer suggestions. Offer assistance. Show real examples of how using these tools or participating in something like an Elluminate session on a Saturday helps me to learn more.
Being an educator and early adopter doesn’t mean I get to a point where I get to dictate where the rest of the world “should” be. Nor does it mean I should look down my nose at those who are still offering discussions and PD sessions about things I might already know.
When I teach other adults about web tools and networks, I constantly bring up the fact that you use those tools which offer value to YOU. If you’ve used a tool for a while, and it no longer has value for you… it’s okay to stop using that tool. Even if many other people are just discovering it, you don’t have to use that tool.
While you’re making those decisions about what holds value for you, please try to remember that others will have different needs and will value different things. They will be at different stages of readiness… and that’s okay. I’ve found that it’s easier to bring people along with you when you don’t treat them like n00bs.
As I sit and ponder what to write about education reform for National Blogging for Real Education Reform, I think back to the numerous posts I’ve written the last few years… and I don’t want to rehash the same things over and over again. Here’s what I do want:
Want to know more about how I feel about education? I’ve written a lot. Start with these:
A Lesson On Accountability – Part I
A Lesson On Accountability- Part II
[Hit the archives links in the sidebar for more.]
There you have it… my wishes for education. I’m passionate about working with children, and I’m passionate about a free public education. Without it, there is no real chance at a democratic society. But without leaders who listen, there is no democratic society at all.
Ed Leaders: Do the right thing. Open your eyes, your ears, your minds, and your hearts. Find compassion. Somewhere, in the middle of all that, the answers are staring right at you.