A student ran to me this morning and explained, "Mr. Johnson, someone wrote something really mean on our plog."
I looked at the margins and read the long, convoluted, well-educated rhetoric against immigrants. "Cheaters, border hopers, criminals," next to well-reasoned explanations on the dangers of urbanization and the reduction of wages with the huge influx of cheap labor. For what it's worth, I don't think they were referring to "hope" in writing "hopers," but I could be wrong.
"We're Irish, yes, but American too. We're not illegals. Not any more illegal than anyone else who came here to take land from the Indians. We just came here to work." she tells me.
I pulled out my pencil and erased the marks; forever wiping out the anonymous comment from the public memory of the event. I am the Editor, the Censor who must decipher between mean-spirited attacks and passionate criticism.
So, I asked the students if we should allow anonymous comments.
"People hide when they are anonymous. They attack, because it is a surprise attack. It's secret."
"It's like the KKK. They cover themselves in a white sheet, spout out hate and they don't have to be transparent." A bit of an extreme metaphor, I admit, but I could see his point.
"I think we should allow people to be anonymous. At least it's honest when they do that. So, people hate the Irish. At least this way we know it. No one is pretending."
The debate continued for awhile until a student said, "I think it's hypocritical for us to require people to state their first and last name and yet we post our work with just our first names."
"We do that to protect you. Remember, employers can go back and search public records. It's all part of your public footprint."
A boy added,"I know that, Mr. Johnson. But shouldn't that be exactly what we want people to see? Okay, so imagine someone takes a photograph of me drinking at a party or entering a burlesque theater and I get hired by a member of the Temperance Movement. That can be real damaging if they find that on the pen pal networks. So, why not let them see the good side of me? Why not let them see that since sixth grade I have been doing community service and I have cared about conservation?"
It has me thinking about anonymity. Perhaps no one should be anonymous in pencil postings. Perhaps the veil we wear in plogs and pen pal networks can work both ways - hiding the good and allowing us to commit acts of cruelty without facing consequences.
Showing posts with label plogs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label plogs. Show all posts
a rebel without a clue
Our plog hosting site is across the street. It's a bit like a library, but a little different. People can peruse the plogs, but also subscribe to them and have it sent directly to their home. Some plogs require registration to view or comment and others simply require a word verification code (It's a great device that may some day ward off robots. For now, though, it works great at keeping Phil the Town Drunk from writing obscene comments)
As we cross the road, we face a barricade sponsored by SiteSense, the same folks who keep us away from "unnecessary field trips."
He kindly tells us that the district has restricted us from this site and that we can go elsewhere, but he will not permit us to take any steps forward. I stare at his baton and assume he means business. The Paper World is full of such posturing and though I never test it out, I assume it is correct. Years ago, I would hand-write addresses incorrectly and the postal worker would send it back with a stern "You have performed an illegal operation." I kept expecting the Paper and Parcel Police to pound on my door and take me to prison.
On the way back, a student tells me that it's what she expected.
"Our district slogan is 'Learning for Life,' but life is the very thing they try to avoid."
"One of our values is community, yet we have huge walls that keep us in and the community out."
After school, I stop by the district office. The Assistant Superintendent of Paper-related Learning explains the issue to me.
"Oh yeah, you're supposed to publish all student work to the iSites. We paid good money and we're going to use it."
"Yes, but the Plogger site is free and easier to customize and kids can visit it when they aren't at school."
"But the iSites works with the iParchment and it flows seamlessly in a system. We know the company and we trust them. Besides, I heard that there might be pornographic plogs across the street. Gertrude was tell me a story about . . . "
"Look, I highly doubt it. But if there is, you can always fill out a Report Abuse card for the curator and she will throw the plog in the trash."
"Quite honestly, we are worried about your approach to safety. Your students never even signed the Fair Use policy."
"What do you mean?"
"We have a distinct code explaining how paper and pencil must be used."
"No one told me that."
"Well, you never asked."
"So, do they have a Fair Use Policy in the wood shop? I mean, it seems that they are much more likely to lose a hand in woodshop than, say, gouge out an eye using pencils."
"No, shop class doesn't have the same rules."
"Do we block the choir from singing at the town square? I mean, I heard there is drinking and gambling that goes on over there."
"But that is supervised, Mr. Johnson. Your students could be meandering through a site that SiteSense considers potentially dangerous. They have a scientific process . . ."
"Science is about reason and skepticism. It's about inquiry and exploration. This is hysteria. It's not science. Technology, perhaps, but not science."
I leave with a stack of Fair Use forms for students to hand out to their parents. I am struck by the notion that our community is afraid of all the wrong aspects of pencil and paper. No one questions the proper age and development of a child using a pencil. No one asks whether it is a good thing for a child to have a community audience. No one looks at the death of an oral culture when we embrace all things print-related.
I'm not opposed to having some guidelines or even some paperwork. What scares me is that we get so hung up in creating structures of security that no one seems interested in protecting paper freedom.
(note: I was influenced on this post by a comment made by Josie)
As we cross the road, we face a barricade sponsored by SiteSense, the same folks who keep us away from "unnecessary field trips."
He kindly tells us that the district has restricted us from this site and that we can go elsewhere, but he will not permit us to take any steps forward. I stare at his baton and assume he means business. The Paper World is full of such posturing and though I never test it out, I assume it is correct. Years ago, I would hand-write addresses incorrectly and the postal worker would send it back with a stern "You have performed an illegal operation." I kept expecting the Paper and Parcel Police to pound on my door and take me to prison.
On the way back, a student tells me that it's what she expected.
"Our district slogan is 'Learning for Life,' but life is the very thing they try to avoid."
"One of our values is community, yet we have huge walls that keep us in and the community out."
* * *
After school, I stop by the district office. The Assistant Superintendent of Paper-related Learning explains the issue to me.
"Oh yeah, you're supposed to publish all student work to the iSites. We paid good money and we're going to use it."
"Yes, but the Plogger site is free and easier to customize and kids can visit it when they aren't at school."
"But the iSites works with the iParchment and it flows seamlessly in a system. We know the company and we trust them. Besides, I heard that there might be pornographic plogs across the street. Gertrude was tell me a story about . . . "
"Look, I highly doubt it. But if there is, you can always fill out a Report Abuse card for the curator and she will throw the plog in the trash."
"Quite honestly, we are worried about your approach to safety. Your students never even signed the Fair Use policy."
"What do you mean?"
"We have a distinct code explaining how paper and pencil must be used."
"No one told me that."
"Well, you never asked."
"So, do they have a Fair Use Policy in the wood shop? I mean, it seems that they are much more likely to lose a hand in woodshop than, say, gouge out an eye using pencils."
"No, shop class doesn't have the same rules."
"Do we block the choir from singing at the town square? I mean, I heard there is drinking and gambling that goes on over there."
"But that is supervised, Mr. Johnson. Your students could be meandering through a site that SiteSense considers potentially dangerous. They have a scientific process . . ."
"Science is about reason and skepticism. It's about inquiry and exploration. This is hysteria. It's not science. Technology, perhaps, but not science."
I leave with a stack of Fair Use forms for students to hand out to their parents. I am struck by the notion that our community is afraid of all the wrong aspects of pencil and paper. No one questions the proper age and development of a child using a pencil. No one asks whether it is a good thing for a child to have a community audience. No one looks at the death of an oral culture when we embrace all things print-related.
I'm not opposed to having some guidelines or even some paperwork. What scares me is that we get so hung up in creating structures of security that no one seems interested in protecting paper freedom.
(note: I was influenced on this post by a comment made by Josie)
should plogs be public?
Six graders snicker at the word plog. It sounds dirty, not in our Victorian sense, but in that innocent sense that you expect twelve year olds to have. Kids like turning it into phrases like "Don't plog the toilet," or into a makeshift cursed word like "Son of a plog!" Still, despite the strange terminology, students take pride in their plogs.
When I pass back their final projects, a student asks me what we should do with them.
"Save them, I guess."
"Can we make them public?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, there is this site I go to and it's like a library, but you can publish your plog and anyone can browse it."
"Wouldn't that be dangerous? I mean, wouldn't you worry about creepy people?"
"Maybe," another student interjects, "but I wonder if that's mostly hype. I mean, we let kids sing solos and do concerts for the public, right? And our school already has a baseball team. What's the difference?"
Another student adds, "Actually, a plog seems a little more anonymous. At a baseball game, they see you in person, learn your entire name and have physical access to you. A plog just means they have access to your public thoughts."
"Anyone in the world could visit this site," I point out.
"Do you really think anyone in the world is just going to randomly find out plogs?" a student asks. "No, they have to be searching for it. And if someone across the globe wants to take a boat to our great city and read the work of a bunch of sixth-graders, I say go for it!"
"What if you accidentally said something personal?" another student asks.
"Am I going to quit going to a diner because someone might eavesdrop?"
Another student points out, "I'd like to know what people think of my writing. If someone leaves a bad comment on the margins, I can always erase it."
"I don't know," another boy says. "I get random mail from strange people. I'm not going to divulge my secret, but apparently I have a large some of money in an account in Africa."
Finally, Ruth, a typically shy child, raises her hand and says, "I don't want my posts to be public. I think they belong to the classroom. They should be read by us. These walls aren't all bad. They define our community. I wrote with my classmates in mind. If I knew the public wanted to read my plog, I would have written it a little differently."
A boy adds to her comment, "If we knew that these would go to a public site, we would have been too careful in our approach. We would have tried to sound more important or more humble or more grown-up. I'm with Ruth. I like the barrier we have of a classroom wall."
I quickly develop a compromise, "What if we took this route? What if we played it safe at first and created a three-tiered approach? We could copy and paste the best parts of our personal plogs and made that a public magazine. We could then share our personal plog with the class and then have a separate private journal."
The class agreed with this solution, but then a boy pulled me aside and said, "Mr. Johnson, I think we should get to choose if we make our personal plog private or public. I think every student should have ownership of his or her voice."
When I pass back their final projects, a student asks me what we should do with them.
"Save them, I guess."
"Can we make them public?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, there is this site I go to and it's like a library, but you can publish your plog and anyone can browse it."
"Wouldn't that be dangerous? I mean, wouldn't you worry about creepy people?"
"Maybe," another student interjects, "but I wonder if that's mostly hype. I mean, we let kids sing solos and do concerts for the public, right? And our school already has a baseball team. What's the difference?"
Another student adds, "Actually, a plog seems a little more anonymous. At a baseball game, they see you in person, learn your entire name and have physical access to you. A plog just means they have access to your public thoughts."
"Anyone in the world could visit this site," I point out.
"Do you really think anyone in the world is just going to randomly find out plogs?" a student asks. "No, they have to be searching for it. And if someone across the globe wants to take a boat to our great city and read the work of a bunch of sixth-graders, I say go for it!"
"What if you accidentally said something personal?" another student asks.
"Am I going to quit going to a diner because someone might eavesdrop?"
Another student points out, "I'd like to know what people think of my writing. If someone leaves a bad comment on the margins, I can always erase it."
"I don't know," another boy says. "I get random mail from strange people. I'm not going to divulge my secret, but apparently I have a large some of money in an account in Africa."
Finally, Ruth, a typically shy child, raises her hand and says, "I don't want my posts to be public. I think they belong to the classroom. They should be read by us. These walls aren't all bad. They define our community. I wrote with my classmates in mind. If I knew the public wanted to read my plog, I would have written it a little differently."
A boy adds to her comment, "If we knew that these would go to a public site, we would have been too careful in our approach. We would have tried to sound more important or more humble or more grown-up. I'm with Ruth. I like the barrier we have of a classroom wall."
I quickly develop a compromise, "What if we took this route? What if we played it safe at first and created a three-tiered approach? We could copy and paste the best parts of our personal plogs and made that a public magazine. We could then share our personal plog with the class and then have a separate private journal."
The class agreed with this solution, but then a boy pulled me aside and said, "Mr. Johnson, I think we should get to choose if we make our personal plog private or public. I think every student should have ownership of his or her voice."
Seven Ways to Create A Super-Ultimate-Best-Ever Popular Plog
Okay, so I've been reading various 20th Century Plogs (short for pencil logs which sounds much more fun and futuristic than say, "journal") and I'm beginning to get the hang of it.
So, here is what I've figured out:
So, here is what I've figured out:
- Use the colors associated with a pencil. Notice my color scheme? It's gray, like that crazy mechanical top and dual toned yellow (just to prove that I can use multiple brands). The typography is readable and slick, very modern indeed. Fit for a Gilded Age. (unlike this guy - what are we in first grade with that font?)
- Buy Stock Photography so that every picture can look like the journal pages of every other plog. Let's be honest, cameras are smoky and expensive. I don't want to char my lungs with carcinigans just to get a decent shot. The goal is to have as many pictures of pretty people doing what pretty people do - which evidentially is shaking hands, laying in the grass (if they're young) and subtly supporting obligatory diversity while wearing tailored business suits. I get my stock photography in the mail and simply cut it and paste it when I remember. Some day there will be a free site I can walk to and get creative work from a public commons, but for now, I'm buying stock photos.
- Make every entry a list. I'm doing that today. Seven is the best number. It's ambiguous and mysterious, with a sort-of religious connotation. It's lucky on one hand and yet it's also a number we use to list the deadly sins (as opposed to those sort-of unhealthy sins) Indeed, few people know that the early church did not call them "deadly sins" but rather "the seven habits of highly ineffective church-goers." Things began to change when seventh-century monks got sick of writing it all out on parchment and started abbreviating it and adding a more dramatic flair.
- Invest in a decent speller check program. I send my drafts to a speller check who underlines it all in red. Even then, I have to be careful. I once went with the first choice and had colleagues ask me what a "cumulative ass is mint" was. I'm really pretty puritanical about cursed words, so this was extremely embarassing.
- Use a picture of you where you have a real cool cowboy stare and you've printed it on yellow paper. (I'm not sure why ploggers don't like regular pictures of themselves) Look at my picture. Would you mess with a man like that?
- Titles: Your first option is to promise the world to your readers. Make sure that everything is "the ultimate" or "revolutionary." No one wants toy read a journal entry with the title, "something I tried that worked alright I suppose." People want the magical formula. If that doesn't work, try clever posts with rhymes and alliteration. Let's be honest, "Leaves of Grass" was okay. But it was the rhyme and meter that made Whitman so catchy! Thus I've used titles like "Nong Went Wrong."
- Connect it all to social media. Not everyone owns a newspaper or a telegraph, so you have to be creative. I've found a site I can go to where I hand passenger pigeons messages (within 140 characters) and they drop them at the homes of all my friends. Could I have a pint and discuss things instead? Perhaps, but I'd rather spare people my long-winded monologues and just send snarky musings via aviary media devices. Note that I also keep a public list of all the people who read my plog. It's a quantifiable data I can use to prove that I matter in this world.
Note: This list was inspired by one of my favorite edubloggers Nashworld, whose blog is the opposite of this list. It is visually appealing, insightful and far from cliche. I don't think he has ever tried to sell me educational snake oil. Also, much of this list is meant to be self-deprecating (aside from the absolute mockery of "seven steps" and other meaningless lists)
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