I’ve been pondering a post about all the reasons we tend to resist meeting the real needs of the exceptional students in our classrooms. Yesterday, Tamara Fisher said it better than I. This should challenge every one of us, regardless of how much we think we’re doing for our gifted students, to reflect on our practice and our assumptions.
Not Just Change. Transformation.

Abandoned School, by Terence Faircloth, 8÷7÷08
Much has been written about the changing needs of students in the 21st century and the transformation that must take place in our schools to make it happen. Several things are clear to me as I read them. First, it is going to take a visionary administration to remake the environment in which our schools operate in order for those changes to be possible. Second, like a mile-long freight train being switched onto another track, it will take a very long time for the needed changes to work their way down to the local level.
It took several years for No Child Left Behind to shift the focus of our schools from students to test scores, but that shift happened. In the meantime, the world shifted, too. What we really need now is No School Left Behind. Schools need to become more agile, more proactive, more willing to look ten or twenty years into the future instead of one or two.
If this website is any indication of the administration to come—one that not only listens to its consitutents, but actively invites their participation in the government—it has the necessary vision and determination. But even greater than this, it just underscores how much different a world tomorrow’s citizens will inhabit. We truly need to empower our students with the skills that &id=GDFeJnFlCfUC&dq=Optimizing+student+success+in+schools+with+the+other+three+R%27s:+Reasoning,+resilience,+and+responsibility&printsec=frontcover&source=web&ots=-IEU6TJngr&sig=K28Ul0XaC2mEw4wcP9iIUCSFdQc&sa=X&oi=book_result&resnum=1&ct=result" target="_blank">Robert Sternberg calls the “other three R’s”: Reasoning, Resilience, and Responsibility.
None of those are on the PSSA test. But they’re all on the real one: life.
I Want My District to Hire This Speaker
Kevin Jarrett posted this article today and the title is absolutely on target:
Every. Educator. Must. Watch. This. NOW!
The video is amazing and I plan to share it with a number of administrators and teachers in my district. Watch it. Now.
I find it interesting that as I was watching it, though, I felt my cynicism rising and had to fight off the urge to brush it off as idealistic glurge while thinking, “Yeah, well, this is just one kid. What about all the rest of them…?”
Some have commented that he is obviously coached and delivering a speech written by someone else. So what? Many skilled motivational speakers do the same. In fact, a similar scene (with a not-so-different goal, now that I think about it) is taking place in Denver this week: a well-rehearsed, well-coached man will be giving a speech written by someone else which delivers an important and inspirational message to his audience.
I’m glad the cynic in me didn’t win. I honestly feel that if I can believe in my students and professional colleagues the way Dalton believes in himself and encourages his teachers to believe in him, any one of the students in my district could have been up there on that stage doing what he did. Any of them.
Now, all that’s left is to find a way to keep that attitude past the first week of school.…
Information Overload
Over the past week, I feel like I’ve dived headfirst into the deep end of the pool, only to come up for air and discover I’m actually in the middle of the Pacific.
About a month ago, I joined ISTE, and discovered that they had an online presence not just on the web, but also in Second Life. I signed up for a free account there and barely got into it, but quickly got lost and gave up. Last week, I decided to give Second Life a second shot, and jumped directly to the ISTE headquarters there. I soon ran into a most friendly person there, Lyrah Lane (as she is known in SL), and we got chatting about school and education, and it wasn’t long before I learned that ISTE was about to hold its annual convention, the National Educational Computing Conference (NECC) in San Antonio, Texas. Several other people I met in SL asked me, “Are you going to NECC? Are you going to be in San Antonio?” My response was always, “I wish!”
So I went through the weekend meeting people from all over the country, getting to know each other, talking about some of the possibilities of collaborating and networking with SL, and exploring a bit. I was constantly being given information about places to visit in SL to meet other educators and get involved in collaborative projects and participate in professional development and I couldn’t keep up with it all.
Just when I felt like I couldn’t handle any more and I needed to come up for air, I got a message on Monday from another one of my new SL friends and colleagues, Penelope Drucker (again, not her real life name). She was co-presenter for a session at NECC which was going to take place both in real life and in Second Life. She needed a core group of SL participants who were prepared to discuss the topic because she had no way of knowing who would be there either in San Antonio or in the SL venue. So in less than 24 hours, I needed to get up to speed on the National Educational Technology Standards for Administrators (NETS-A). The panel discussion was specifically to talk about how SL could strengthen and deepeng the refresh process which would be revising and updating those standards over the next year.
OK, I thought to myself, what am I going to be able to contribute to this discussion? How am I, a “newbie” to both ISTE and SL, going to have anything constructive to add to a conversation about revising the national technology standards?
(As an aside, when I told my wife I was doing this panel discussion in San Antonio, she nearly fainted—but that’s a story for another day.)
Once the meeting got going, though, the incredible power and possibilities of SL as a professional development medium began to open up for me. In the past, discussions like this were highly exclusive: only people who were motivated and financially able to travel around the country were able to participate in national conferences, and even then, these kinds of roundtables were unlikely to be able to include many points of view from many different people. Now, however, even someone like me who is “just” a teacher—someone with some valuable experience and valid ideas, but who doesn’t have the credentials and connections to matter at the national level—can participate on equal footing with national leaders and have his voice contribute to the conversation.
Even more, SL now becomes not just a meeting place but an ongoing, permanent residence for us. The relationships that were forged this week during NECC don’t end with the closing keynote. We don’t shake hands as we check out of the hotel and say, “It was great to meet you, keep in touch, here’s my phone number and my email address,” and then hope that there’s enough motivation to make the effort to write on a regular basis. I know from experience that while email is a great tool for communicating and staying in contact with people at a distance, it is lousy for maintaining distance collaboration.
People tend to collaborate most with the people they run into on a daily basis, the ones with whom they work and play. I know for a fact that there are several people I met at NECC this week I will maintain contact with, not just because I want to, but because I’m almost guaranteed to run into them on a fairly regular basis in SL. It won’t take a conscious effort on my part to remember to email them—they’ll just be there, and we can have an ongoing conversation about the projects we’re working on, we can problem solve together, share ideas, and socialize.
My professional circle grew this week—by only a few people, granted, but I can tell already that something productive will come from these relationships.
I’m heading into the weekend still totally overwhelmed with new information to seek out, process, and absorb, with another large project to add to my summer planning list, but I’m not going into it alone. I have like-minded colleagues in SL. We will bounce ideas off each other, brainstorm, debate, and generate exciting new ways of teaching students and each other.
I’m overwhelmed, but I’m energized about where this can go.
You Need a Committee for This?
This morning I read an interesting article in the Washington Post about the playground policies at a Virginia elementary school. I was a little surprised at my reaction: I wasn’t shocked that this happens—I’ve seen similar things first hand. As the head of our school safety committee, I know the kind of thinking that can lead up to this, and I understand the mindset that can bring you to a point where you need to consider banning an activity like tag at recess.
I don’t necessarily agree with the decision—I think it was probably taking things too far, and without knowing all the details, I suspect there were other ways to deal with whatever problems might have been going on. I also know from experience that this kind of problem is generally a symptom of something deeper (perhaps poor supervision on the playground, or something rooted in the school or community culture that was getting expressed in the kids’ play at recess). Banning a playground game seems to me like fixing a mildew problem in your bathroom by not taking any more showers.
What did surprise me, though, was this:
Now, a committee of administrators and teachers has devised a plan to reinstate the game. After a week of “reorientation lessons on playground safety” in physical education classes, classroom discussions of safe recess behavior and monitoring by teachers on the blacktop, students are likely to be yelling “You’re it!” by tomorrow.
It really took a committee (of administrators and teachers, no less) to devise this plan? They had to develop a week’s worth of “reorientation lessons”?
Children need unstructured play time, and this is one of the purposes for having recess in the first place. They also need adequate supervision. The focus of this entire plan was on what was “wrong” with the children. What about the adults who were responsible for monitoring the kids’ play? What about the parents who have the responsibility to instill character values in their children? Where is this kind of approach to school safety likely to take us in the next few years?






