The Ideal Classroom? (a reprise)

I've grown to appreciate Twitter for many things. As a news feed, I am as in touch with world events as I have ever been without visiting any news sites. It eliminates my need for RSS feeds by following individuals and organizations that I would normally have subscribed to. I can also be places that I am not. Events such as #educon that are Tweeted and hash-tagged keep my in conversations about events even though I'm not there. 

One of the most unexpected benefits of Twitter has been it's ability to spark my curiosity and serve as a groundswell of ideas from disconnected tweets. I trust that I share this with many of the people I follow. 

One of the many things that caught my attention as I panned through my Twitter feed recently was a blog post by George Couros (@gcouros). His web site, "The Principal of Change" serves as his outlet for all the things he encounters as a K-12 administrator and his thoughts and reflections from the educational realm. Anyway, he posted "The Ideal Classroom?" on Thursday and essentially pondered whether or not his school's new 1:1 laptop program would facilitate the "ideal classroom" for his students and teachers and provide the personalized, passionate, creative learning that is promoted by educational reformers at all levels.

What is the ideal classroom? If you're an educator this question has crossed your mind. For some, this question has become a pursuit, a drive, a passion. I find myself in that category. Considering my educational pursuits in Educational Technology and Educational Psychology, this should be expected.

Two years ago, I started looking around my classroom, looking at my students, and looking at the resources at our disposal. With every student accessing a laptop whenever the need arises, it became clear that my instructional potential could go further. That last statement seems pretty obvious, I know. However, the overwhelming evidence is that technology and computing fails to produce the transformation in teaching and learning that should be expected. Larry Cuban set forward this argument in Oversold and Underused. His study in a pair of school districts in Silicon Valley, California made it clear that while the availability of computers in the hands of teachers and students has been increasingly available, instruction and pedagogy continues to remain largely unchanged.

So what is it then? What is the ideal classroom? 

As the 2008-2009 school year came to a close, I cultivated several disparate ideas into one seemingly cohesive package and wrote "Mr. Bruce's Teaming Handbook". This was to serve as the basis for procedure, protocol, and convention of my 9th grade U.S. History classes. This was to be my first year in that curriculum after matriculating up with the 8th grade students with whom I was finishing the school year. I've shared it at the bottom of this post.

I hoped for a collaborative setting, where students took history class far beyond the walls of the classroom. A classroom that existed only as needed, sparking the engagement in historical inquiry that would drive student learning and discovery. Student groups would process and produce their learning as though they themselves were the owners of their education. That's the ideal situation.

After a few months into the school year, the enthusiasm began to fizzle. Class activities began to slump, groups started to disintegrate, and engagement waned. I urged students to recall how different this class was from the others they had, and how much more it offered them if they would just stay the course. But I was beginning to tire, as well. This classroom required a great deal of energy from me; much more than I had anticipated. Group blogs and wikis (see handbook) required more direction and instruction than I was expecting. Where did my ideal classroom go?

Since that school year ended, I decided to lay off that concept until I could put my finger on just what went wrong. Unfortunately, It has become clearer that what was wrong had nothing to do with the plan, or my execution of it. In fact, I may not have even been able to work out the bugs and launch my 2.0 version. The problem was rooted in the culture of teaching and learning itself. 

When students left my classroom, they experienced a far different learning environment than I had hoped to foster. The left my classroom of digital storytelling to down the hall to worksheet's and packets. Taking notes in my class was a group expectation, not a graded assignment taken from a slideshow. Students who failed to meet deadlines were subject to group social pressure and were accountable to those with whom they worked, rather than being punished with an arbitrary point value deducted from the overall assigned value of the task. They would leave a place where they determined the value of their work and learning, and found that everywhere else, technology had been superimposed on the classroom and limited their educational opportunities.

Many of my students found the comfort of worksheets and handouts was easiest. Producing a music video for two 19th century songs was hard. Critical thinking is hard. Creative expression based on historical understanding is a challenge. But it's harder to sell the value in that kind of education to 15 year olds who are pushed by an archaic grading system to meet arbitrary deadlines for mindless tasks.

An ideal classroom cannot exist without the ideal school.

I had the pleasure of meeting Jason Ohler at a Michigan Association of Computer Users in Learning (MACUL) Conference a few years ago in Detroit. He presented a few sessions that weekend, but his overall message was on the importance of Digital Citizenship. I fear that his sessions and what he had to offer were overlooked and undervalued that weekend. I may have even failed to completely understand the extent to which the following question needs to be addressed in contemporary education: "What does it mean to grow up and learn in the 21st century?"

Ohler recently published a book titled Digital Community, Digital Citizen, and has written articles to support it. His most recent appeared in Educational Leadership. "Character Education for the Digital Age" presents Ohler's "two-lives" perspective; that today's students "should live a traditional, digitally unplugged life at school and a second, digitally infused life outside school." Ohler follows this assertion with a description of why this is bogus and how it can be remedied. I particularly appreciated his perception of the "Ideal School Board". 

The reason why I reference this article was to suggest that the failure of my ideal classroom was a product of this "two-lives" concept. Ohler suggests a character education based on redefining social values and principles such as respect, honesty, and empathy to reflect the changes in our digital communities and practices. This would promote the extension of technology into classrooms by naturally providing students with a greater sense of purpose for technology tools. So far electronic device manufacturers and social networking entrepreneurs have purposed technology for our students' lives, not education. The ideal school must take the lead in educating students in this manner so that the ideal classrooms can exist and thrive.

When George Couros asked about personalized instruction and ownership at the classroom level, the real question must be addressed higher first. While there are shining classrooms in every school building real, sustainable, and transformative education with integrated 21st century tools must begin at a larger degree.

Download now or preview on posterous

mr_bruce_s_teaming_handbook.pdf (2390 KB)

#SOTU

If you don't know what the title of this post means, please continue reading. This is obviously not my first time witnessing the presidents annual* State of the Union address. As an informed citizen, I believe events such as these are critical to civic responsibility and action. There is nothing that will destroy this republic more surely than ignorant apathy. The true value and function of the State of the Union is debatable in that it is almost always filled with optimistic and promising rhetoric. But only the informed can see where rhetoric ends and action begins.

For several days, analysts and reporters have all made their predictions, judgements, and evaluations regarding Obama's speech. While I do hold opinions regarding the content of the message, I do not really intend on making any judgements or criticisms of the President's speech here. Why? Mostly because I'm tired of it for today. But also because I found this SOTU to be more enjoyable than any other I've ever watched.

Like anything else, this speech can be best enjoyed in the company of good friends. While I sat alone in our living room after my girls were asleep, I had the next best thing - Twitter.

Before you pass judgement on me, let me explain... My PLN has been a source of constant quality learning. Since Twitter, I've stopped subscribing to blogs, discontinued visiting my iGoogle page, and had built a system of utilizing Tweets from those I follow in order to keep me up on what I should be reading. Twitter, therefore, has served as a information aggregator for me based on the great people I follow.

This evening during the SOTU, I found comfort in the communication shared from friends, colleagues, and acquaintances. Whenever Mr. President mentioned education, comments, points, jokes, and disappointments were Tweeted and fed to my desktop, updated in read time. The hashtag, #SOTU, was used to further delineate Tweets specifically pertaining to the address. By doing so, this impromptu informal response to the speech becomes more remarkable. No planning was necessary to facilitate such engagement.

While the White House had stepped up it's role toward increasing public engagement in his State of the Union, no planned, organized, and funded communication tool could have functioned as well as this did in providing me with the best State of the Union I've experienced.

* The Constitution states that the President must "from time to time give to the Congress information of the state of the union" (Art. II, Sec. 3). This has generally been interpreted as annually.

Halfway... Where are your students?

Friday my students completed their last exam of the first semester. Tomorrow (today, I guess) we being semester 2. I don't know what other teachers do at this halfway point, but I've found it extremely valuable to take some time and evaluate what went right and wrong in the first two marking periods. 

What growth have my students experienced? Their grades tell only part of the story. Is the growth I seek measurable? The growth I'm looking for comes from their ability to inquire, reason, explore, and draw conclusions. The essay's I had my students write as a part of their exam was intended to measure the growth that the mandated multiple choice test could not show.

While grading students' written work is no simple task and demands hours of patience and dedication, I can declare to have a greater insight into how my students are learning far beyond what most teachers are able to gather about what their students are learning. Which is more important? 

As we begin semester two tomorrow, I need a gauge on how my students have grown. 

Woah... I need more fiber in my writing diet.

Sorry for the title, but I can't help but feel a bit "bound-up", so to speak, in terms of my written voice. If you look at my next most recent post, it's been a few months since I've posted anything. Punya Mishra, my doctoral advisor (see http://epetphd.ning.com/), has suggested on numerous occasions to blog daily for a period of time until you feel that "regularity" that we all desire. His own web site is updated regularly with posts from daily and weekly thoughts and musings, so he serves as a great example for me. What a good advisor.

Regular writing serves several functions. Writing is more than a task, it's a release. It provides opportunity for reflectivity. This can be simple and basic, or functional and elaborate. Larry Ferlazzo, educator extraordinaire, wrote a blog post this morning on how he used an thorough reflection from a class lesson and used it in class. His lengthy reflection-turned-article, became a source of conversation for his ELA class. Read it. It's awesome! Another great example of reflective writing comes from George Couros, a K-12 Principal in Alberta, Canada. His blog, "The Principal of Change" has almost daily reflections of thoughts and challenges from his perspective as an administrator. Very professional and progressive.

Daily writing can also help refine, define, or discover your voice. Thoughtful, written expression comes from deep within. As a teacher, I'm aware of my voice as it pertains to how I interact with adolescents. I am also aware of my voice as I relate to friends, family, and co-workers. However, as a student advancing in academics seeking scholarly acceptance, there is a need to develop a stronger, more declarative and authoritative voice. Regular writing can serve such a purpose. Hopefully, my writing can provide insight into classroom community and social capital in education for any readers.

It seems this is my year for commitments. About a month ago, I decided I was finished with pop. I consumed probably 100oz of Mt. Dew daily. I quit "cold turkey" - an expression I have never understood - and now consume about a gallon of water daily. Three weeks ago I began a strength and fitness program (P90-X) that is already working wonders in improving overall health and satisfaction. Such an endeavor would have been almost impossible if it were not for my wife. Karen had done the program more than a year ago, and now is working through it a second time with me. If you want to get to know your spouse better, spend an hour every day completing a brutal workout with her. Trust me, it must be better than marriage counseling.

Given those commitments, I suppose I can declare to undertake a new one. Hopefully my written expression can unclog the pipes and unleash the intellectual waste that has been building up and provide some clarity and productive thought. 

What a disgusting-sounding way to end this... Sorry to anyone reading. :)

It's That Easy?

I’ve been playing guitar for about fifteen years. It’s a hobby, if it can be even called that when I dust it off infrequently. My first guitar was a Christmas gift and rather than taking lessons I began with a self-teaching set of booklets and CD’s. After abandoning that mode once I got through the first booklet, I decided I could advance myself further by picking up a book of popular sheet music with the guitar tabs in it. I rapidly learned my first real song, comprised of chords I knew I could play - “No One Needs to Know” by Shania Twain. 

Many who know me may laugh when they read that hidden gem of personal history, because, despite my eclectic personal music selection, I’m known favor classic rock. To justify my beginnings as a “musician” and restore my credibility, it should be stated that Twain used to be married to John “Mutt” Lange, the very producer of albums for The Cars, AC/DC, Def Leppard, and Foreigner (and Shania Twain). 

The reason for my introduction as a “musician” and its following departure is due to a comparison I’d like to share. I have recently rekindled my engagement in playing by performing a few songs during worship services at our church. While practicing this week, I was strumming a few very simple chords in a pattern and noticed that it aligned with a Marshall Tucker Band song, so I began to sing “Can’t You See”. Personally, I believe that song to be one of the most appreciated and well-known songs ever recorded. While its expression and mood promote a deep sense of despair, loss of hope, resulting in a compelling musical performance, it can’t be ignored that “Can’t You See” is comprised of three simple chords in a simple pattern.

What’s more is that many of the “greats” are equally simple. Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Sweet Home Alabama” and “Simple Man” are only three chords, Zeppelin’s “Babe, I’m Gonna Leave You” has four, Aerosmith’s “Amazing” has four, and Bob Seger’s “Night Moves” is essentially two. In my limited experience, the songs I play that are most appreciated share this same characteristic (that’s why I play them). If they’re so simple what makes these songs so great?

Now the translation and the point to all this. Where do these songs become great? Hopefully we can all agree that their greatness comes from the artists that wrote/recorded them, with particular emphasis on the performers. It is no mistake that the concert performance of any musical work is more valuable than the recorded album version. Similarly, a cover of a song can be more riveting than the original. We thrive on the performance. 

Lately, a significant emphasis has been placed on the perceived and debated value of the teacher in a classroom. Conversations are abuzz with talk of value-added evaluations and their role in the improvement of the system of education on state and federal scales as a ticket to promote good teachers and weed out bad. For many, the importance of the teacher is clear and needs no additional explanation. However, for others the individuals in front of students are deemed easily replaceable by technologies and individualized curricula. 

And speaking of curriculum, there are administrators leading an ambush of micromanagement demanding that teachers co-write shared curriculum in order to ensure that they are teaching the exact same lessons at the exact same pace the exact same way in order to assess using the exact same tests. Although this practice may serve some practical purposes, I’d like to witness a “success” story - I can only imagine the automated droids reading from a scripted lesson. In fact, I can attest to an experience where a co-written, co-designed unit was taught in multiple classes in very different ways. Through a lesson-study experience funded and promoted through a Teaching American History Grant awarded to and administered by the Battle Creek Schools Consortium, I was able to see how different teaching styles executed a meticulously planned set of lessons very distinctively. The results were equally positive, but still quite different.

The performance is what makes the teacher a teacher. But it is also what makes a professional a professional. Just as the great musicians with simple tunes, even the most mundane lesson can be brought to life by a skilled professional who understands the content, their students, and the methods that can bring the two together (even more so with purposefully integrated technology). 

This evaluation and comparison is not intended to promote the practices of an inept teacher. The performance is part of what makes teaching a thrill - taking the edge off of a stressful class period, dodging the monotony of teaching the same class three or more hours per day, or handling the constructive criticisms of the building administrator. Every performance has its share of critics. Musicians know this well. Skilled professionals know the difference between critiques that are valuable and those that are just noise and are able to adjust their practice accordingly. If you are not professional enough to handle the parameters of the job, perhaps this profession is not for you. 

As for me, I still love going to school every day - rockin’ out the same three chords.