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Educon 2011: More Deep Thoughts

Yes­ter­day, I wrote about two of my big pic­ture take­aways from the first day of Educon. Day 2 indeed con­tin­ued that pat­tern. I still heard ref­er­ences to stu­dent voice and stu­dent pas­sions in every ses­sion. And my assump­tions con­tin­ued to be chal­lenged, and are con­tin­u­ing to be chal­lenged today as the “Educon hang­over” sets in and the extra thoughts that didn’t fit into the week­end are leak­ing out into the Twittersphere.

There were a cou­ple of other big themes that sur­rounded every­thing at Educon this year. They aren’t any­thing new, but I believe that because they keep com­ing up and aren’t going away, they might qual­ify as endur­ing under­stand­ings about learning.

Connect

Ear­lier this evening, Dean Shareski tweeted:

I don’t care what any­one says,this whole con­nected learn­ing stuff still amazes me.Might not be the total answer but there’s some­thing to itMon Jan 31 21:12:32 via Osfoora for iPhone


I believe that con­nec­tion is a mul­ti­plier. When we learn some­thing alone, it has power. But when two peo­ple learn and share together, we both get twice as much out of it. There’s a (for­give the word) syn­ergy in the learn­ing process when we are con­nected with other learners.

Then when we share the learn­ing with oth­ers and they share it, it gets mul­ti­plied expo­nen­tially. There’s some truth to the crit­i­cism that the edublog com­mu­nity (and many of those who attend Educon) can become an echo cham­ber of the same ideas cir­cu­lat­ing round and round, over and over. But con­sider that every day, new faces join this com­mu­nity. They have some catch­ing up to do, and when we “rehash” an old idea in get­ting them up to speed, we can also refine and rework it.

Every per­son who chews on an idea and then passes it along to the next per­son adds a layer of value. Chris Lehmann con­stantly reminds those who praise him for what he has done at SLA that he “stands on the shoul­ders of giants.” We also stand on each oth­ers’ shoulders.

It can be intim­i­dat­ing to enter a con­nected com­mu­nity. It’s easy to bounce around, watch­ing every­one else who’s already con­nected and think that there’s no room left. I under­stand that a few peo­ple expe­ri­enced this at Educon and left feel­ing iso­lated. I’ve been con­tem­plat­ing whose respon­si­bil­ity it is to cor­rect this. I do believe this com­mu­nity is a wel­com­ing one: in the cou­ple of years that I’ve been actively Tweet­ing and blog­ging, I’ve found dozens if not hun­dreds of peo­ple will­ing to hear my ideas and engage in the con­ver­sa­tion with me. Those who jump in and start con­tribut­ing and look­ing for ways to con­nect won’t be dis­ap­pointed. (As if to rein­force this exact idea, as I was writ­ing this post, I saw a link to this doc­u­ment from Chris Lehmann’s ses­sion at Educon. Check out the high­lighted sen­tence that one of the par­tic­i­pants added.…)

But I think we also need to go out of our way to invite new voices into the con­ver­sa­tion. We need to model our own learn­ing com­mu­nity after the ones we want to see in our class­rooms and schools. If any stu­dent feels alien­ated, we’ve not done our jobs as edu­ca­tors. Like­wise, if a fel­low teacher-​​learner feels we’ve cre­ated bar­ri­ers to enter­ing the con­ver­sa­tion, what does that say about what we really value in a learn­ing community?

Act

The last theme is that we need to take action. This also hap­pens to be the even­tual cure for the echo cham­ber. This also hap­pens to be the hard part. In sev­eral ses­sions, we were really good at explain­ing our rea­son­ing, at expound­ing on the prin­ci­ples, at build­ing a case and build­ing a the­ory. When the leader asked, “So what do we do with it? How do we put it into prac­tice? How do we make this hap­pen?” There was gen­er­ally silence.

I’ll be bla­tantly hon­est: I’m not sure I know the answers to those ques­tions either. But I do know that this year—instead of hav­ing an awe­some week­end of con­nect­ing with other edu­ca­tors and learn­ing from them and reflect­ing on the process in a blog and then for­get­ting about it until next January—I’m going to fol­low Lisa Thumann’s lead and cre­ate an action plan.

At the same time, I’m reminded that talk­ing or writ­ing about some­thing is tak­ing an action. Words are pow­er­ful, and words can change the world. For me, words are often the best way for me to have an impact on some­one else, so blog­ging and talk­ing about these ideas is my first step at tak­ing action. But I don’t think we can stop there.

I wres­tled a great deal this week­end with whether change needs to hap­pen through evo­lu­tion or rev­o­lu­tion. This isn’t a new dilemma, but I thought about it from the action angle this week. In my sphere of influ­ence, it often feels like all I can do is chip slowly away at bits of the cor­ners, and I won­der if that will be enough to ever make any kind of dif­fer­ence for kids. Then I real­ize that while I’m chip­ping, I can also keep talk­ing about the ideas, and per­haps I can help oth­ers decide to start chip­ping at their own cor­ners of the prob­lem. If enough peo­ple chip slowly, it won’t be slow any more.

First Thoughts From Educon

Conversation 3, by Andrea Christman

I’m part­way through my sec­ond Educon, and as I found the first time around, my brain is hav­ing trou­ble keep­ing up with the inten­sity of learn­ing that is going on. I con­tinue to be amazed at the num­ber of edu­ca­tors will­ing to spend an entire week­end, almost around the clock, think­ing deeply and richly about edu­ca­tion and how we can make it bet­ter for our stu­dents. And I’m not just talk­ing about how to improve com­pu­ta­tion or com­pre­hen­sion or pro­fi­ciency scores. I’m talk­ing about peo­ple who are con­stantly pok­ing at the whole idea of what edu­ca­tion is for and how it should work at a fun­da­men­tal level and what it needs to look like today, next year, and in the next few decades.

If you want an exam­ple of what’s good and great in edu­ca­tion today, if you want to meet the best of the best edu­ca­tors, come to Educon.

Also as I dis­cov­ered last year, there are a few big themes that seem to be emerg­ing from the con­ver­sa­tions, both for­mal and infor­ma­tion, that I have par­tic­i­pated in so far. I imag­ine that some of this is a result of my own bias and self-selection–I do tend to end up with peo­ple and in ses­sions that already lean the same way I do, after all–but these seem to be pretty con­sis­tent no mat­ter which par­tic­u­lar clus­ter of peo­ple I land in. I’m not going to attempt here to ana­lyze these themes in any great depth (I’ll save that for future posts), but sim­ply to put out some of the raw thoughts for your con­sid­er­a­tion. Push back, pick at the parts I am not con­sid­er­ing or grasp­ing prop­erly, and con­tinue the con­ver­sa­tion that is going on in Philadel­phia this weekend.

Voice, Choice and Passion

We talk a lot about student-​​centered learn­ing in edu­ca­tion today, but much of it revolves around dif­fer­en­ti­a­tion and keep­ing stu­dent abil­i­ties and needs in mind as we deliver our pre­scribed cur­ricu­lum. But what about student-​​DRIVEN learn­ing? Give stu­dents more free­dom to express them­selves, to explore and dis­cover what they are pas­sion­ate about.

We are wrestling with the very nature of what school and edu­ca­tion are for here. What is our role? What are the lim­its of that role? Or are there any? Part of me believes that more than sim­ply train­ing kids to be com­pe­tent adults (which I do think is part of our mis­sion), we have a big­ger ques­tion to help stu­dents answer: Who am I, and what is my place in the world? On the other hand, I’m not sure I want schools to shoul­der all of that respon­si­bil­ity. That’s what fam­i­lies and com­mu­ni­ties and faith are for, too.

I believe part (or per­haps most) of our job is prepar­ing kids to make a con­tri­bu­tion to the world (I could well be wrong about that, of course). Dif­fer­ent kids will make dif­fer­ent con­tri­bu­tions. Dif­fer­ent kids SHOULD make dif­fer­ent con­tri­bu­tions. So should we be work­ing harder to mold stu­dents into our box, or should we be refit­ting the box to accom­mo­date the stu­dents? The Educon con­ver­sa­tions seem to be push­ing that even fur­ther: we need to let the stu­dents design and build their own boxes.

Challenging Assumptions

Another fre­quent theme that is aris­ing this week­end is the idea that we can’t be con­tent with our assump­tions. More times than I can count, I have been involved in a con­ver­sa­tion where the com­ments set­tle into a com­fort­able place where we mostly agree on the prin­ci­ples, then some­one (some­times me) says, “Wait a minute,” and points out that the assump­tions behind the prin­ci­ple aren’t nec­es­sar­ily givens.

There are dual dan­gers, I think. If we get too com­pla­cent in what we “know” is true about stu­dents, or schools, or edu­ca­tion as a whole, we can’t inno­vate and adapt to the world. But if we are too skep­ti­cal, if we only ever act as if all our assump­tions are poten­tially wrong, we may never actu­ally act on anything.

But I think we prob­a­bly ought to lean much harder towards reg­u­larly step­ping back and ana­lyz­ing what our assump­tions are. Stu­dents change and the world changes quickly enough now that things that really were true last year may not be true this year.

A ques­tion I am start­ing to ask myself in every con­ver­sa­tion and with every book I read is “What are the biases and pre­con­cep­tions that are fram­ing my point of view, and what hap­pens to the argu­ment if I turn them upside down?”

Now I need to fig­ure out how to bring these ideas back to my dis­trict and what to do with them in the con­text of every day school life. What are the prac­ti­cal appli­ca­tions of these ideas about stu­dent pas­sion and assump­tions? What do they look like in a class­room? How does pro­duc­tive change hap­pen? Maybe today’s ses­sions will move me towards some answers.

How to Tame an Administrator

Cover illustration from The Little Prince
[This arti­cle is cross-​​posted at The Teach­ers Lounge blog. Thanks to Brandi Jor­dan for the invi­ta­tion to guest blog there.]

Last week, my fam­ily and I went to see a stage adap­ta­tion of The Lit­tle Prince. A scene in it reminds me of the always-​​complex, sometimes-​​awkward rela­tion­ship between par­ents and school admin­is­tra­tors, par­tic­u­larly when it comes to deter­min­ing what is best for a child.

In the play, the Lit­tle Prince meets a fox in the Sahara desert. The Prince is cau­tious of the fox, but is also curi­ous. Then the fox makes an unusual request: for the Prince to tame him.

What does that mean — ‘tame’?”

It is an act too often neglected,” said the fox. “It means to estab­lish ties.”

‘To estab­lish ties’?”

Just that,” said the fox. “To me, you are still noth­ing more than a lit­tle boy who is just like a hun­dred thou­sand other lit­tle boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am noth­ing more than a fox like a hun­dred thou­sand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world…”


In our ordi­nary exis­tence, men and foxes are ene­mies. But this fox and this boy are dif­fer­ent, and their rela­tion­ship grows from an open mind and will­ing­ness to lis­ten to each other.

Please — tame me!” he said.

I want to, very much,” the lit­tle prince replied. “But I have not much time. I have friends to dis­cover, and a great many things to understand.”

One only under­stands the things that one tames,” said the fox. “Men have no more time to under­stand anything.…”

What must I do, to tame you?” asked the lit­tle prince.

You must be very patient,” replied the fox.


Admin­is­tra­tors and par­ents aren’t seek­ing friend­ship, of course. But we can learn some things from this story about how to effec­tively col­lab­o­rate. Here are a few things to remem­ber when you inter­act with school admin­is­tra­tors that will help you make progress. You may even find in the end that you’ve tamed one or two.

  1. Admin­is­tra­tors are human beings. This is both a pos­i­tive and a neg­a­tive. We are imper­fect. We have feel­ings, strengths, and lim­i­ta­tions. We need to learn and grow, just as you do. We get anx­ious and tired and frus­trated just like you do.
  2. Admin­is­tra­tors care about your child. Our level of con­cern is dif­fer­ent, and we care in dif­fer­ent ways, but I do not know a sin­gle school admin­is­tra­tor who thinks of your child as sim­ply a test score, a “stu­dent of the month” cer­tifi­cate, or a dis­ci­pline report. We are in this busi­ness to help chil­dren, and we work hard to make that pos­si­ble for every child in our care.
  3. We are not the enemy. That we have a dif­fer­ent per­spec­tive and pos­si­bly a dif­fer­ent solu­tion to a prob­lem does not mean we are oppo­nents. Enter­ing the process with the assump­tion we are look­ing for­ward to putting up road­blocks and launch­ing coun­ter­at­tacks just invites anxiety.
  4. This is not a con­tract nego­ti­a­tion. A corol­lary to #3 is to remem­ber the objec­tive of any meet­ing with a school admin­is­tra­tor. The goal is not for one “side” or the other to “win,” and if either party enters the sit­u­a­tion with the sole pur­pose of get­ting what they want, then the only loser will be the child. There are no sides, or rather there is one side: the needs of the child. Enter instead with the inten­tion of agree­ing together first about the prob­lem, then to work as a team to cre­ate a solu­tion that works for everyone.
  5. Admin­is­tra­tors have the same goal as you.… We want your child to learn, grow, and suc­ceed. Just as you do. You know your child as an indi­vid­ual far bet­ter than we ever can, and just as the fox advises the Prince to do, a wise admin­is­tra­tor will spend a great deal of time patiently lis­ten­ing to a par­ent in order to understand.
  6. …but our con­text is dif­fer­ent. Please remem­ber that the admin­is­tra­tor knows the teach­ers, the cur­ricu­lum, the school and the field of edu­ca­tion far bet­ter than you do. It is also our job to ensure that school resources are used equi­tably and respon­si­bly, and we are often forced to make dif­fi­cult com­pro­mises. A lit­tle time invested in try­ing to com­pre­hend our world will go a long way in build­ing a good work­ing relationship.

Just like the fox and the Prince grow to need each other, so do the par­ent and the admin­is­tra­tor. Nei­ther of us can do our jobs well with­out the sup­port and col­lab­o­ra­tion of the other.

Par­ents may feel intim­i­dated or defen­sive when meet­ing with admin­is­tra­tors, and this leads to meet­ings where the par­ent comes in “armed for bear” (or per­haps foxes) and antic­i­pat­ing a fight. Try instead to tame the school admin­is­tra­tor with a lit­tle patience and under­stand­ing. Steven Covey, author of 7 Habits of Highly Effec­tive Peo­ple, includes this as Habit 5: Seek First To Under­stand, Then To Be Under­stood. Do this, and you will prob­a­bly find that you and your child have an excel­lent expe­ri­ence with the school.

One last tip: Unless you hap­pen to know that they are fans of The Lit­tle Prince, it may not be a good idea to actu­ally tell an admin­is­tra­tor you are try­ing to tame them. Let that just be between us.

Needs or Wants?

Lexus SC430 * Red Wall * Side
Image by jiazi via Flickr

I am soon going to need a new car. The one in this pic­ture would be just about per­fect. Care to donate to my replace­ment fund? Yeah, didn’t really expect so.

So why is it that you’re not will­ing to help me get the trans­porta­tion I need? Because you can see that what I’m ask­ing for is really a want. It may very well be that my car needs to be replaced soon, and hav­ing reli­able trans­porta­tion is in fact impor­tant to me, but there’s no real rea­son I need to spend almost $67,000 to get it.

Read More…

Hope Scores a Point

Yes­ter­day I wrote about feel­ing con­flict­ing emo­tions about truly mak­ing a dif­fer­ence in edu­ca­tion. This morn­ing I read an arti­cle by Lisa Parisi which scores a point for hope against futil­ity. If enough teach­ers could really get on board with this and really live dif­fer­en­ti­a­tion instead of just talk­ing about it, maybe we could start to turn the ship. Now how do we coor­di­nate the effort and have more impact? One blog post at a time, I suppose.

Excellence in Instruction

What ever hap­pened to striv­ing for excel­lence? In schools today, it is now about striv­ing for pro­fi­ciency. Stu­dents are expected to per­form at a pro­fi­cient level on state assess­ments. Schools that aren’t meet­ing goals for pro­fi­ciency are cen­sured. There is no incen­tive what­so­ever for schools to encour­age stu­dents to per­form at the advanced level. A stu­dent who scores per­fectly on the state assess­ment counts exactly the same as one who barely crosses the pro­fi­ciency thresh­old. But to many peo­ple, this is now what it means to strive for excellence

Robert Stern­berg, in a recent issue of Edu­ca­tional Lead­er­ship, asks what it means for a school to be excel­lent. Too often, a school’s own def­i­n­i­tion of excel­lence is defined by the per­for­mance of a sub­group of stu­dents. The school looks solely at the improve­ment in per­for­mance of the bot­tom stu­dents, or the very top, or per­haps that group just on the cusp of pro­fi­ciency. He argues that instead, schools ought to focus on excel­lence for all stu­dents, and that the num­bers will fall into place as a result of that changed focus.

Accord­ing to Stern­berg (2008), in addi­tion to the tra­di­tional 3 R’s, we also need to be teach­ing stu­dents Rea­son­ing, Resilience, and Respon­si­bil­ity. I believe this is par­tic­u­larly impor­tant for gifted stu­dents, who can often learn the basics of aca­d­e­mic con­tent quickly but have more dif­fi­culty with these “Other Three R’s”. What if when we com­pact the cur­ricu­lum for these chil­dren we were to focus our enrich­ment work on teach­ing these new skills?

Unfor­tu­nately, they can’t develop in a vac­uum. All three skills (and, I would argue, all of the tra­di­tional three as well, past a cer­tain level) require stu­dents to inter­act with oth­ers on a deep level. But how can we do that when we may only have one stu­dent in a class­room (or per­haps even in an entire school) who can move quickly into this area of learn­ing? Cer­tainly we want to pro­vide these oppor­tu­ni­ties for all stu­dents on a reg­u­lar basis. But Rea­son­ing, Resilience, and Respon­si­bil­ity can be more of a cen­ter­piece for gifted stu­dents who are capa­ble of engag­ing them at a depth that other stu­dents may not attain until much later.

One solu­tion to this is to pro­vide more oppor­tu­ni­ties for gifted stu­dents to inter­act with their intel­lec­tual peers. Cre­at­ing sit­u­a­tions where this is pos­si­ble can be a chal­lenge, how­ever. If there are only a few gifted stu­dents in a school, even when they are all together, the level of inter­ac­tion is not high.

Online tools can pro­vide a way to expand the con­nec­tions for our gifted chil­dren. Andrew Tor­ris recently wrote about how social net­works and online col­lab­o­ra­tion can help edu­ca­tors to be more engaged with each other in their own pro­fes­sional devel­op­ment. Many of the same argu­ments he gives, and indeed, many of the same sce­nar­ios he describes, apply as well to gifted chil­dren in our classrooms.

I have recently exper­i­mented with using a wiki to allow stu­dents from mul­ti­ple schools to work together and inter­act on a com­mon project. There have been some suc­cesses and some chal­lenges, and the level of inter­ac­tion so far is not high. But even at this very basic level, my stu­dents have got­ten a glimpse of the power of net­work­ing, and as my own pro­fes­sional net­work grows, I hope to find ways to add to my stu­dents’ net­work of colleagues.

Tor­ris ended his arti­cle with a pow­er­ful video. I’m includ­ing it here also because it empha­sizes the impor­tance of shar­ing, col­lab­o­ra­tion, and learn­ing to net­work. Watch it twice—once from the per­spec­tive of your stu­dents, and once with your own pro­fes­sional growth in mind. Then think: How can we begin to move back towards excel­lence, first in our own lives, then in our instruc­tion, so that all stu­dents can gain mean­ing­fully from their time in our classrooms?

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Ref­er­ences

Stern­berg, R. (2008). Excel­lence for all. Edu­ca­tional Lead­er­ship, 66(2), 14–19.