I've been to a good number of meetings this year (both formal and informal) that involved discussions about the best ways to use technology with children. I really enjoy these conversations, and I'm excited about all the possibilities that the digital domain presents for teachers and students in schools. However, time and again I have heard teachers turn a phrase that disturbs me a bit, and it goes something like this: "Sometimes, I think the kids know more about technology than we do. We should be learning from them!"
Really?
I mean......really????
Okay, there are two ways to look at this, I'll admit that. On the one hand, it is fair to say that the children of this digital generation probably are a bit more acclimated to certain technologies and devices than some adults. If an adult hasn't had a chance to play with a new iPhone and a child has, then the child will have a bit more experience with the device and could therefore be considered to "know more" about iPhones than the adult.
On the other hand, just because a child has played with a device and knows a good number of its apps, that does not automatically mean that the child "knows more" about how to use that device than an adult might. I try to point this out to teachers who make the claim when I'm talking to them. A child who has played with multiple devices, has e-mailed and IMed numerous times, and who has a social networking page is not necessarily better prepared to explore ways to use that technology to create products and respond to the world than his or her teachers.
I often joke, "Just because a kid can tell me about hammers, screwdrivers, and wrenches doesn't mean that I'm going to let him or her try to fix my bathroom or car." Knowledge of a tool does not trump the knowledge of how to use tools to create things. Surfing the web a lot doesn't displace a well-earned Master's degree; having your own webpage doesn't counter a decade of experience in education; and when your first impulse is to "ask Google" or "go to Wikipedia" (two of my students' common solutions), that doesn't hold up against the knowledge about how to evaluate resources and refine research.
Yes, I agree that the children of the modern world know quite a bit about technology. What they do not need are teachers who defer to that limited knowledge and are afraid of knowing less than the kids; instead, they need teachers who are ready to show them how to use those technologies to be a integral part of the world.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
The Meaning of "Uniform" in School
As the first online homework assignment for my class this year, I had the students read an article about uniforms for public schools. The school uniform debate is always a good conversation starter, and the kids enjoyed responding to the pros and cons of the issue. As you might expect, there was a flurry of "personal expression" arguments. The kids were smart about how they presented their views, though. They understood why one might say that uniforms could improve self-esteem, decrease negative peer interaction, and remove gang and clique cultures from the school. They understood those arguments; they just didn't believe them. They countered (and most research shows) that those anticipated effects really don't take place, and that bullying and grouping and low self-esteem happens with or without uniforms.
And so we wrapped up the debate (leaving a few loose ends), and I moved on through the week. A few days later, though, I realized that I was participating in a different "uniform" debate, and it had nothing to do with what my students were wearing. I found myself in multiple conversations about the school's literacy program and ELA curriculum. I began to notice that the arguments being made in favor of certain methods (and the curriculum at large) were very similar to those used in the dress code debate. I found myself at odds with the notion that there is a way to teach language arts in a uniform manner, conforming to the terminology and processes of a certain method and ensuring that all students have a common experience in class.
I keep trying my best to see the need for this uniformity in curriculum. I know that no district wants to explain why certain teachers won't follow along with a given program. It looks like disrespect and dissent, and it reflects poorly on the district at large. At the same time, I continue to see language arts as an area in flux; the digital age has started a transition that is effecting what language is and how it is used. I believe that there are positive aspects to most programs and methods, but I also believe that a teacher needs to be free to find the best avenues of work with his own students and their specific needs. Beyond that, each teacher develops his or her own teaching style, and not all programs mesh perfectly with all styles.
An acting professor of mine was once discussing the art of acting and creating a character. I asked him which method was "best": the popular Method created by Stanislavsky, or the variation on that theme by Sanford Meisner, or perhaps something else entirely. And his answer still resonates: he told me to immerse myself in all of the various processes, and then to take what was best from each of them to create something personal that worked for me. I now find myself in a similar scenario with the curricula and practices being used in education. Rather than ascribing completely to one method of doing things, I prefer to learn about all the various programs and take from them what's best for me and my students. In effect, it's the "personal expression" argument from a different perspective.
My hope is that this will not look as though I refuse to "buy in" to a given system that the school is supposed to be doing; I don't intend to dismiss any educator's work as wrong or irrelevant. However, I also know that when it comes to actual teaching in the classroom, I will always choose the freedom to experiment, develop, and explore different ways of doing things that will best help my students succeed.
And so we wrapped up the debate (leaving a few loose ends), and I moved on through the week. A few days later, though, I realized that I was participating in a different "uniform" debate, and it had nothing to do with what my students were wearing. I found myself in multiple conversations about the school's literacy program and ELA curriculum. I began to notice that the arguments being made in favor of certain methods (and the curriculum at large) were very similar to those used in the dress code debate. I found myself at odds with the notion that there is a way to teach language arts in a uniform manner, conforming to the terminology and processes of a certain method and ensuring that all students have a common experience in class.
I keep trying my best to see the need for this uniformity in curriculum. I know that no district wants to explain why certain teachers won't follow along with a given program. It looks like disrespect and dissent, and it reflects poorly on the district at large. At the same time, I continue to see language arts as an area in flux; the digital age has started a transition that is effecting what language is and how it is used. I believe that there are positive aspects to most programs and methods, but I also believe that a teacher needs to be free to find the best avenues of work with his own students and their specific needs. Beyond that, each teacher develops his or her own teaching style, and not all programs mesh perfectly with all styles.
An acting professor of mine was once discussing the art of acting and creating a character. I asked him which method was "best": the popular Method created by Stanislavsky, or the variation on that theme by Sanford Meisner, or perhaps something else entirely. And his answer still resonates: he told me to immerse myself in all of the various processes, and then to take what was best from each of them to create something personal that worked for me. I now find myself in a similar scenario with the curricula and practices being used in education. Rather than ascribing completely to one method of doing things, I prefer to learn about all the various programs and take from them what's best for me and my students. In effect, it's the "personal expression" argument from a different perspective.
My hope is that this will not look as though I refuse to "buy in" to a given system that the school is supposed to be doing; I don't intend to dismiss any educator's work as wrong or irrelevant. However, I also know that when it comes to actual teaching in the classroom, I will always choose the freedom to experiment, develop, and explore different ways of doing things that will best help my students succeed.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Doing School...Differently
I just posted this to my classroom blog, and realized that it also belonged here:
As I prepare for this school year, it is becoming increasingly clear that this will not be a "business as usual" year. With our classroom's expansion onto the web, the very nature of our learning will begin to change drastically. Students in this digital classroom will be challenged - not to learn a set of information or to prepare for state tests, but rather to become creators and innovators on their own. Yes, there will be information learned, but in many ways, that will be the secondary focus behind students learning how to learn and create for themselves.
This will require a lot from the students, but I'm confident that they will be up to the challenge. We need to move past the notion that I (as the teacher) have all of the answers and the students need to "receive" the education that I am "giving" them. Instead, I want to be a facilitator and give my students the tools to develop themselves as learners. As I think back to my own education, I realize that I wanted to have more control, too. I remember coming to a point where I began doing what I knew would make the teacher happy and gave up any of my own opinions and interests. My goal now is to not let that same thing happen in my classroom.
So, welcome to a new way of doing sixth grade. It won't be perfect, and I'm sure that I'll make mistakes along the way, but if I can allow myself to be a member of this community, rather than the leader of it, we'll be moving in the right direction!
As I prepare for this school year, it is becoming increasingly clear that this will not be a "business as usual" year. With our classroom's expansion onto the web, the very nature of our learning will begin to change drastically. Students in this digital classroom will be challenged - not to learn a set of information or to prepare for state tests, but rather to become creators and innovators on their own. Yes, there will be information learned, but in many ways, that will be the secondary focus behind students learning how to learn and create for themselves.
This will require a lot from the students, but I'm confident that they will be up to the challenge. We need to move past the notion that I (as the teacher) have all of the answers and the students need to "receive" the education that I am "giving" them. Instead, I want to be a facilitator and give my students the tools to develop themselves as learners. As I think back to my own education, I realize that I wanted to have more control, too. I remember coming to a point where I began doing what I knew would make the teacher happy and gave up any of my own opinions and interests. My goal now is to not let that same thing happen in my classroom.
So, welcome to a new way of doing sixth grade. It won't be perfect, and I'm sure that I'll make mistakes along the way, but if I can allow myself to be a member of this community, rather than the leader of it, we'll be moving in the right direction!
No Time to Slow Down ... Thank Goodness!
There's nothing like the start of a school year to keep a teacher motivated and working! With only a couple weeks left before I'm working with my sixth graders, I've found that the short timetable is the ultimate incentive for me to keep moving as I plan and create for my class. In the past, I've entered the summer with high goals for setting up ways to integrate technology into the coming school year, but I usually run out of time.
Not this year. The difference is small, but important. This year I have the initial structure of my digital classroom in place, and I have also talked at length about it (on the web, with colleagues, on the bulletin board outside of my classroom). I've found this to be exactly what I've needed; in order to ensure that I see my ideas through to the end, I publicly talk about how exciting my ideas will be. This way, if I don't complete what I endeavor to do, I will have an audience questioning me. By "going public" with my own process, I have added motivation to its completion.
I think that I will apply this lesson to the way that I deal with my students in the fall. Rather than having them simply do their work on my timetable or create their own private goals for completion, I am going to move them toward making their intentions known and public. This will cast a light on the process of their learning instead of constantly focusing on the product that is "required". Everything I've been reading lately encourages this attention to process over product, and this little step of bringing others into my own process has opened my eyes to the possibilities that lie ahead.
Not this year. The difference is small, but important. This year I have the initial structure of my digital classroom in place, and I have also talked at length about it (on the web, with colleagues, on the bulletin board outside of my classroom). I've found this to be exactly what I've needed; in order to ensure that I see my ideas through to the end, I publicly talk about how exciting my ideas will be. This way, if I don't complete what I endeavor to do, I will have an audience questioning me. By "going public" with my own process, I have added motivation to its completion.
I think that I will apply this lesson to the way that I deal with my students in the fall. Rather than having them simply do their work on my timetable or create their own private goals for completion, I am going to move them toward making their intentions known and public. This will cast a light on the process of their learning instead of constantly focusing on the product that is "required". Everything I've been reading lately encourages this attention to process over product, and this little step of bringing others into my own process has opened my eyes to the possibilities that lie ahead.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
There's something about August!
As the calendar rolled over to August, I managed to find my way back to my classroom. There's something about this time of year that fills me with excitement for the return of the students. And this year is especially exciting, given that I have switched levels (to sixth), changed classrooms, and established a "digital classroom" in which my students will also be learning. I read the other day that the best modern classrooms are not constrained by the walls within the building and allow for learning at any time, not just during the school day. This year, my students' learning spaces will match those goals. In fact, I have already had students in contact with me this summer (mostly just checking in, but a new development, to be sure).
All of this makes me think about "year-round school". As more and more districts nationwide move in this direction (and our President makes it clear that he's in favor as well), I find myself personally considering this new option. The time I'm going to spend over the next few weeks preparing in my empty classroom will certainly be used well; it's obviously easier to do certain things without having students around. However, I also find myself on August 11th wishing that I had some students here working with me. My classroom (and digital spaces) has always been collaborative, so I feel like I'm missing something as I work here alone: namely, the other workers with whom I share this space. I find myself wanting their advice on how the room should be set up and what I should be planning for this fall, and it makes me realize how long two months can be.
I've never had much trouble with the "summer drop-off" in September, so my lean toward more school isn't really so much about making sure the students don't "lose what they've learned". Instead, I really enjoy working with them, and it strikes me that 180 days isn't enough for what I want to do. Maybe next summer will be different; once the kids are a full part of our digital classroom, I will be able to keep going past June if we choose. Year-round school? Maybe not in my building. But if I don't focus on the building, the possibilities are endless!
All of this makes me think about "year-round school". As more and more districts nationwide move in this direction (and our President makes it clear that he's in favor as well), I find myself personally considering this new option. The time I'm going to spend over the next few weeks preparing in my empty classroom will certainly be used well; it's obviously easier to do certain things without having students around. However, I also find myself on August 11th wishing that I had some students here working with me. My classroom (and digital spaces) has always been collaborative, so I feel like I'm missing something as I work here alone: namely, the other workers with whom I share this space. I find myself wanting their advice on how the room should be set up and what I should be planning for this fall, and it makes me realize how long two months can be.
I've never had much trouble with the "summer drop-off" in September, so my lean toward more school isn't really so much about making sure the students don't "lose what they've learned". Instead, I really enjoy working with them, and it strikes me that 180 days isn't enough for what I want to do. Maybe next summer will be different; once the kids are a full part of our digital classroom, I will be able to keep going past June if we choose. Year-round school? Maybe not in my building. But if I don't focus on the building, the possibilities are endless!
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