six lies we tell ourselves about technology

So, I'm at the PIE Conference and I place my slides on the projector. I'm nervous, shaking, literally sweating bullets. Okay, not literally, but figuratively. I assure you that there were no flying bullets in my room. I choose the number six, since it's perfect and I so badly want something about this presentation to be perfect:

Lie #1: We can connect to the world and still feel the grass beneath our feet. I tell the story of our neighborhood and the lack of community that exists as a result of newly emerging new transportation, urbanization and the fact that information is now global (thanks to the telegraph)

Lie #2: What is new is always innovative.  I mention that of novelty versus innovation and the fact that often "innovation" is merely hype (I piss a few people off by mocking the iTablet.  Note to self: some people love their yellow legal paper, even if it won't let you multitask and take papers out like a real notebook)

Lie #3: We can control the effects of technology.  I mention the changes in Europe after the printing press and how wildlife changed as a result of railroads and barbed wire.

Lie #4: Quality isn't lost in compression (and the lie that effeciency means effectiveness): Here, I play the mandolin and then a phonograph and asked them to write down which sounded better.

Lie #5: Better tools equal better learning. I share the idea that often simpler and fewer tools force students to be more creative).

Lie #6: It will save time.  Time will move on whether we "save" it with gadgets or not.

*      *      *

The workshop (which is a bit of a lie, given the fact that no one is building anything) is failing miserably. People are drawing pictures and ignoring me. So, I open it up and say, "What are you thinking?" It becomes a conversation.

"I don't think pen pal networks and telegraphs have changed anything," a teacher begins.

"Me too. If anything, time away forces me to appreciate the grass when I'm back."

"Can't we have it both ways?" a teacher asks.

"I don't think technology makes things better or worse, it just changes things.  So, we don't lose our connection to the land.  We just view it through a new filter."

"If we think critically about technology, we can predict its outcomes," someone adds. "That's a pretty fatalistic mentality."

But then another teacher mentions Prometheus and Pandora and quotes a few lines from a Socratic dialog. We talk about the Tower of Babel and the Sirens and the Roman notion of bread and circus. We talk about how often a pen pal letter will pull us away or how the edgy urban environment can make us feel claustraphobic. As we discuss the ideas, I find myself yearning for something low-tech - perhaps a chalkboard where I could be drawing diagrams or taking notes. I feel a bit like a heretic in a high-tech cathedral.

Finally, a teacher says, "I agree with all of these except number two." We discuss it for awhile, but I am struck by this notion that our frame of reference for wisdom is anything but innnovative. We're going back to Greek and Roman mythology. The teacher, for his part, finally says, "I guess there's nothing new under the sun," quoting a man who lived in an era where the printing press didn't even exist.

we don't need a shared vision

"We need to have a shared vision of education in America," I parrot to Paul the Pre-industrial Poet.

"Where did that come from?" 

"A speaker at the PIE Conference mentioned it.  I tend to agree. As long as we fail to agree on the purpose and direction of education, talks of pencils and photos and telegraphs are meaningless."

"I'm not crazy about that idea," Paul mentions.  "If we all share the same vision and goal, it becomes myopic. And when it's myopic, it becomes too easy for those in power to hijack the language and use it to make money." 

"What if the vision is good?"  

"It's not a matter of good.  The issue is this: if you define a vision too loosely it's meaningless.  We could have something like, 'We will create life-long learners' and it sounds pretty, but what does it mean?  Or we could begin with something more specific like, 'Equip all students for the skill sets required for the industrial age.' It ends up missing out on big parts of an education."  

"I see.  I guess it fails to allow for the conflict and the paradox that often lead to a whole education."  

"Exactly. So, we start with, 'Why do we learn?' Historically, we've had three streams in this area: a neo-classical ideal of the well-rounded citizen needed for democracy, a religious idea of education leading to a more moral person and a vocational stream with the notion of learning a trade."  

"Can't we find some overlap?"  

"Maybe.  But I'm thinking there are elements each can bring to the table.  So, I like the apprenticeship model and I like the option of vocational education.  I like a deep philosophical understanding of the world and an appreciation of the liberal arts and a preparation for college.  And, even in a secular place, I like concepts like love and humility that we can take from the spiritual side. It's not overlap I'm looking for, it's diversity of opinion."

"So, can't we agree on the best parts of each of those streams?"

"I don't know.  Maybe we can.  But look: I have listened to too many conversations on the best vision for my race.  Some say DuBois and others say Washington.  I think they both make sense.  We need a talented ten percent.  We need leadership.  But that alone will be merely elitism.  We need economic empowerment and practical skills.  We need to fight injustice but we also need to reform the system from within.  They both have great points and I doubt that you'll get people to agree on both sides."  

seven positive trends in this year's PIE conference

I had my reservations the first time we went to the Pencil Integrated Education (PIE) Conference.  First, people seemed to be more impressed with the technology itself than with learning.  "Hey, it's cutting edge.  It's a set of colored pencils.  It will forever revolutionize education."  Socrates revolutionized education.  The Gutenberg Press revolutionized education.  A tablet instead of a notebook?  Nice upgrade, but not revolutionary.

Then there was the issue of those who mistook PIE to be all about baking.  We did our best to accommodate them, but the questions always felt odd (i.e. "How many recipes will college-ruled paper hold?") We had the other segment of mathematicians who mistook it for a pi conference and wanted to talk about developing theorems and setting up new algorithms. Actually, I think they kept us grounded a bit, preventing us from groupthink.

It never felt like a waste of time, because the true benefit had nothing to do with what I learned.  It was the human connection that mattered.  It was the chance to get to know people who also used pencils rather than slates.  Sometimes when I was on my own, I'd feel so lonely.  I needed the PIE Conference to remind me that I'm not crazy - or that if I'm crazy, it's not because I am insane, but because the system is insane and things like critical thinking come across as insanity in a factory education.

*      *     *

I've noticed something different now.  People seem more interested in learning.  Yes, we have our fair share of people obsessing over just how light a paper tablet is (even if you can't multitasking), but in general I've noticed a few positive paradigm shifts:

1. A focus on the way people learn.  In my first PIE Conference, a presenter would show us how to use a pencil (it's not that difficult, really) and only at the end would we get ideas.  Now, we're planning, connecting, using multiple media all with student learning as the goal. 
2. Connecting to other disciplines - in other words, not seeing Pencil Tech as its own entity, but instead getting into brain research (though I'm still not sure what to think of phrenology), motivation, assessment practices, etc.
3. Openness to some of the criticisms about how technology (from pencils to the telegraph) are changing technology in both positive and negative ways. We're moving from "pencil citizenship" to citizenship.
4. From a "we'll use this in the new industries" mentality to a mindset that embraces life-long learning and progressive education.  Pencils can be used not just to manage a factory, but to create art, poetry, tell stories, advocate for social causes, etc. 
5. A better understanding of the social, political and economic pressures that prevent students from accessing tools.
6. A more philosophical bent.  We're now asking questions like, "Is hard work as important as deep thinking?" or "Should assessment be based upon a product or a cognitive process?"  (or, in the case of the phrenologists, bumpy heads) 
7. A chance to extend beyond the conference.  With the whole PLN concept and the pen pal networks, there is a sense that I get a human side to the people I will interact with through shorthand notes and perhaps via telegraph.  

yes origami is cool, but it's not why I have paper

Awhile back, I attended the PIE Conference (Pencils Integrated Education) for the second year in a row.  I'm not against conferences.  They provide a platform for connecting and motivating - though not necessarily for training (which is how they market it).  I have my little quirks, where I get uptight about various issues.  Do we really need to advertise the vendors as if walking through a sea of advertisements are an asset rather than a liability?  Do we really need more notebooks?

Still, I find that most speakers are passionate and interesting - which is more than one can expect from a staff development meeting.  I attend a workshop called "Paper for Creative Thinking."  I assume that the workshop will include some science experiments or perhaps some ideas for problem-based learning.  Or maybe creative writing.

Instead, the speaker jumps out in a samurai costume, which, if a little gimmicky, was at least attention-getting.  He then began teaching us how to make origami cranes.  We had little colored papers at our tables and each of attempted to follow the directions.

It was interactive and the directions were great, but I kept expecting something more.  I kept thinking that this would lead into a deeper conception of creativity in the classroom.  Perhaps a discussion?  Instead, we learned about other animals, other textures and other colors.

I overheard a woman ask him how this connected to learning and he responded, "The Japanese students continue to improve in their test scores.  Some day they will beat us in achievement.  Some say it is their curriculum, I think it has to do with origami and its connection to creativity.  A century from now, they will be creating automobiles that are the most reliable in the world."

I left a positive evaluation, despite feeling disappointed.  The speaker tried really hard, had a great level of passion and dressed like a samurai.

Yet, I see that as a trend in the paper world.  I hear it constantly, "In an industrial age, we need developers and thinkers.  We need creative problem solvers."  Yet, I'm not so sure that the best way to become a creative problem-solver is through origami or free time with crayons.  I see this often in the PIE Conference - speakers who want us to abandon the basics in favor of origami or sand box time.

I could be wrong, but here's what I notice with my students:

Creativity happens when people analyze problems, see things from multiple perspectives and develop a solution.  Creativity happens when a student inquires about the world, develops a hypothesis and presents a solution.  Creativity occurs when a student conjures up a story or a poem or takes an unusual stance on a social issue.

In other words, creativity doesn't have to look flashy.  Creativity will happen when students have freedom and autonomy, when they find purpose in what they are doing and when they are not stuck in a system of rewards and punishments.

growing a PLN

I'm at the PIE Conference (Pencil Integration Technology) and someone presents a plan regarding how to build a Personal Learning Network.  He mentions a step-by-step procedure:

1. Join the pen pal networks.  Follow people and let them follow you. It's vital to the exchange of information.
2. Join a Social Address Booking Club and share information about your favorite places to go an learn.
3. Subscribe to at least one scholarly journal. 
4. Write a pencil log (plog) and subscribe to other pencil logs, too.  Jump in and start writing comments on the margins of their journals. 
5. Find a few experts and go have a pint with them.  If you are a member of the Temperance Movement, have a cup of coffee instead.
6. Go to various conferences and connect in person
7. Go to the public chat rooms.  Sometimes they get big and crowded, but most towns have a place where educators can go and mingle and talk about specific education-related issues - sort of the opposite of a staff lounge. 

I ask Paul the Pre-industrial Poet about this and he says, "I'm not sure I agree.  I mean, don't get me wrong.  I think the list is great, but I can't imagine someone has to follow each of those.  I know you well enough to know that you hate Social Address Booking and I could never write a plog as often as you.  I know you are a wallflower and would shrivel up in a public chat room, but you could handle scholarly journals well."  

"I wonder if PLN's are not something someone builds, but rather an organic process.  Maybe they have to evolve individually." 

"Maybe.  I mean, maybe it's more like gardening.  You have to set up the infrastructure and organize things.  You don't just toss seeds out.  But it grows slowly." 

"I like your growth metaphor."  

"There is a danger in it, though.  I once got caught up in growing my PLN, thinking that bigger was better.  I finally realized that unsustainable growth is what caused the Panic of 1893.  Unsustainable growth is what causes our city to become a giant pollution house."


Note: the impetus of this blog post was a conversation with Philip Cummings on Twitter.  I enjoyed his thoughts on a PLN.

what they never warn you about

Before beginning our second week of a one-to-one pencil to student unit, I explain to them that they will need to create some documents. I assume the skills will transfer over from the students' use of Pen Pal networks and plogs.

"Here's how it works.  When you are done with your document, write your name at the top and then save it inside of your folder."

Pretty simple, right?  Students of the Pencil Native generation should understand this without my explicit directions.

So, I am surprised the next day when students can't find their documents.

One girls says, "I set it in a folder and wrote the name on the folder."

"Did it already have a name on the folder?"

"Yeah, but I thought it was like a slate, where we change names when we change slates."

Not a problem. I pull papers out and pass them out, but I quickly run into a stack of nine papers that are untitled.  I have a hunch that this is simply adolescent immaturity. Some day when students have papers beginning in kindergarten, they will still forget to write their names at the top.

Two students have no papers at all.

"Where did you put yours?" I ask one girl.

"I left it on the desk top."

"Then it was probably put in the trash," I explain.

"Uh oh," a boy interrupts.  "So that metal bin is a trash can."

"Why?"

"I put my document in there."

"Didn't you read the word 'trash can' on the side?"

He shakes his head sheepishly. "Can I go get it back?"

"The custodian emptied the trash yesterday."

The boy next to him explains, "I erased it.  I forgot that it wasn't like a slate."

Mrs. Jackson enters the room in the midst of the chaos and I say, "I'm done.  I'm done with papers and pencils and folders and kids setting papers in the trash.  I'm done with pencil sharpeners that leave dust on the ground and . . . "

"I'm not a fan of pencils.  You know that.  However, where else are they going to learn some of these basics?  Yes, students are advanced, but they miss some of these small skills about organizing their papers or writing their names or setting them in folders.  I don't recommend wasting class time teaching this, but if they learn some of these pencils skills, then isn't that just a bonus of a great education?"

"I guess that's true."

"Besides, when they used slates, didn't they erase the boards before you had read them? Didn't they bang erasers together sometimes?  It's a part of being a kid."

I think back to the PIE (Pencil Integrated Education) Conference I attended last year.  The presenters spoke eloquently about each medium and how students would use it for amazing projects.  While I do not deny the power of pencils, there was an element missing from the discussion.  No one seemed to recognize the developmental level of sixth graders.  What I mean is that no one reminded me that kids will do some illogical, confusing things simply because they are kids.

Mrs. Jackson leaves the room with this reminder, "If pencil literacy is like true literacy, you need to give your students permission to make big mistakes.  My son is four and barely recognizes letters.  A few times he's even torn a page or two out of a book.  But my hope is he'll grow into it and eventually love reading."

course management system

So, last year, we're at the Pencil Integrated Education (PIE) Conference.  Educators are quit fond of acronyms, but this year it was a little awkward.  Apparently, a whole sleuth of culinary enthusiasts arrived on a train only to realize that our conference was more about learning with paper than cooking with crust.

"Hey Tom, you should check this out," my best friend says.  "Have you ever heard of this?"

We walk over to a booth where a man is advertising an organizational structure for classrooms.  "What is this?" I asked the man.

"This is Chalkboard.  It's a course management system. You get it all in one package.  We will ship you a few boxes and you'll get a binder for every student, a gradebook for yourself and several folders to store student work."

"I'm impressed," I tell him.

My buddy holds the binder, "Look at this.  There is a built-in calendar so that students can write their assignments and keep track of grades.  There are tabs with all the categories chosen ahead of time. Seriously, this is genius, Tom.  You should get your district to buy these if you're going to get that one-to-one pencil to student ratio next year."

"I know.  I would just collect binders, do some binder checks and record the grades in the grade book.  It's so easy."

At this point, a woman walks up and begins perusing the binder.  "I'm not really a teacher.  I'm a pie enthusiast and by that I mean apple pie and not the number that never ends.  I couldn't help but notice your excitement over this.  It's a binder.  What's so special about that?"

"Are you serious? It's a whole organizational system," I share.

"Yes, but aren't you already organized as a teacher?"

"Sure, but this does it for me."

"Wouldn't it make more sense to develop something a little more organic for your own needs.  You know, if someone tried to organize my recipe cards for me, I'd get angry. I very well might whack them with a rolling pin. Besides, don't you want students to learn to organize information on their own."

"I suppose, but this is more efficient."

"Don't confuse efficiency for effectiveness.  Why not just tell kids to organize their work according to their own needs?  It could be a folder or a binder or a back pocket for all I care.  Aren't you more concerned with learning than with organizing assignments?"

I'm beginning to think the pie lady was right.

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