Work With Hope

Before I begin this post, I have to ask a question based on the title. Why is the song called “Do You Hear What I Hear”? This is the opening line of the second verse of the song, not the first, and that verse is not more central to the theme than any of the other verses.

Today's post is a bit of a failure all around. I wanted to talk about voice to text and how it fits in with education and life in general. To match form to subject, I intended to dictate the entire post and publish it, warts and all, to display the current ability and accuracy. However, when I started dictating into my iPhone, I immediately started having problems. The app kept stalling after a sentence or two, and eventually I became so frustrated that I gave up.

This certainly points to the first point that I was going to make. As convenient and time saving as this function seems to be, every time I've used a speech-to-text application, it has always been just about good enough. Nine out of ten words would be fine, but that tenth word would be wrong, and no matter how many times I erased and re-pronounced the word (like vacuuming over and over the same paper clip) I couldn't get it right. Sometimes almost good enough is worse than bad. Today's mishap is another example of the same problem. I could probably spend an hour and figure out what is going wrong, but I will have this written using a keyboard in half that time.

The other concern was going to be my focus. Dictation is a very different creative process from typing. I have a great deal of difficulty composing by speaking. I like to watch words on the page and craft sentences as I go (in fact, one of my deepest darkest secrets is that I start everything I write, whether it's be an article or a talk by working on a legal pad…yes, paper). Speaking doesn't seem to have any of these qualities. I can speak extemporaneously on topics with ease, but it doesn't work in writing.

Now, here is the question I wonder about with any change like this. While I know that this doesn't work for me, I don't know how it will work with the minds of our children. Just because I'm this way doesn't mean that people will always be this way. Perhaps in the future the mind will be developed to compose on the go and to put this into writing through speech. Maybe by this time voice to text programs will actually work.

As always, I welcome your comments.

 

For most, the world of Christmas carols is limited to about 10 sacred songs and 10 pop songs. This tedious rotation plays in malls and churches and on radio stations. Very occasionally a new song enters the canon of carols, whether it be the pleasant pop “All I Want for Christmas Is You,” or the unfortunate quasi-sacred “Mary Don't You Know.” But in general, it's more of the same, year after year, album after album, whether it's a country version of “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” a Cajun version of “The Carol of the Bells,” or a heavy metal version of “The Little Drummer Boy.” There are many versions, but very few songs.

Which is a shame, because beyond the limited canon are some amazingly beautiful and amazingly interesting songs that provide a different “soundtrack for the season” and different insights into the Christmas story. Carol writers of years past have portrayed Christmas celebrations very different from ours, and have pictured the nativity story with an earthiness, frankness, and humanness that would probably disturb many of the defenders of “traditional Christmas.”

One of the best of these for my money is “The Cherry Tree Carol.” The early American ballad, traced before the 16th Century, tells a story not seen in any of the Gospels (though it is credited to an apocryphal Gospel). There are many variations of the lyrics, but these seem the most common.

When Joseph was an old man, an old man was he,

He courted Virgin Mary, the Queen of Galilee.

When Joseph and Mary were walking one day,

Here is apples and cherries so fair to behold.

Then Mary spoke to Joseph so meek and so mild:

“Joseph, gather me some cherries, for I am with child.”

Then Joseph flew in anger, in anger he flew:

“O let the father of the baby gather cherries for you.”

Well, the cherry-tree bowed low down, bowed down to the ground,

And Mary gathered cherries while Joseph stood down.

Then Joseph took Mary all on his right knee,

Crying, “Lord, have mercy for what I have done.”

 

When Joseph was an old man, an old man was he,

He courted Virgin Mary, the Queen of Galilee.

The Holy Family is always portrayed in popular carols as ivory figures, pure, stoic, and completely in sync with God and with each other. The infancy narrative in Luke makes a brief reference to Joseph wanting to “quietly divorce” Mary when she is found with child, but one verse later after a visit from an angel in a dream, he is completely on board and never says or does another questioning act in the Gospel as he quickly fades into obscurity. “The Cherry Tree Carol” gives me a Joseph that I can understand, bitter, resentful, and sarcastic. A simple request becomes an opportunity to continue a broader argument. In this version, the branches come down on their own, suggesting that the father of the child did indeed bring cherries to the mother. In some versions Mary calls upon the child in her womb, who orders the branches to bow down in a most awkward joining of mother and son against the father. Even Mary doesn't come off that immaculately, as there is a clear smugness to her victory (in another version she announces, “Look Joseph, I have cherries!”). Joseph's repentance at the end brings this story to a happy end, but does not suggest that the couple will never quarrel again.

 

This is truly great stuff, certainly better than “Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree.”

 

Two notes

1. I read a very wonderful article about many unfamiliar, and to our thinking strange, Christmas carols you ban find here “The Cherry Tree Carol” is mentioned in this article, but I had already intended to write about it. Still you will likely enjoy it, and there are good links to YouTube videos of all of the songs.

2. I saw a concert this evening of the group Anonymous 4, known for their beautiful renditions of traditional music. I was surprised and pleased to see “The Cherry Tree Carol” on the program. Interestingly, they changed the first verse to say Joseph was a young man, which suggests another dynamic entirely.

As always, I welcome your comments.

 

“Write about the Starbucks controversy.”

This was the most common suggestion I heard in preparation for these days. Clearly there was a lot of focus on this in the news, and social media went wild with comments.

So today I'll write about Starbucks and their subversion of Christmas.

Not the red cups…I've never heard anything more stupid than the criticism of the red cups. I'm drinking from a plain red cup today, and I have not felt the least temptation to renounce my faith or knock down a nativity scene. When I think about all that has been done and said about a cup, I wonder if Starbucks executives are shaking their heads in disbelief or rubbing their hands over the free publicity.

No, this outrage is not out front in the news, nor in the front of their restaurants, but if you look down while ordering, you will see a modest display for the Starbucks's Premium Gift Card. This sterling silver, limited edition gift card has the owner's name and number handsomely embossed and attaches to your keychain or purse. It comes with a $50 balance in an attractive (plain) red satin envelope…and it costs $200.

Interestingly, in each of the stores I first saw this display, the card was missing, supposedly sold out. But there was a brief description, the price, and directions to learn more a Starbucks.com. I went home and looked it up. Clearly with this hefty price tag this gift card must come with unbelievable benefits…year round pumpkin spiced lattes…table service by a talking alpaca…back rubs with every purchase. However, when I read the terms of service, there was no more than what I originally saw. The card offers you benefit of being able to spend money on coffee in much the same way that you do with a cheap plastic card (or with a free iPhone app).

I don't know whether it is more or less insulting that the card comes with $50, clearly establishing that you are paying $150 for a money taking machine (an anti ATM card). I suppose this is to prime the pump and get the money flowing through the silver. Do you show yourself as a person of distinction to baristas across the land? Who is this card for? Is it for the person who has everything, except more coffee?

I'm sure this is only the beginning of a trend. Next Christmas MasterCard will offer the Premium Statement, a solid gold coated papers embossed with everything you currently owe…for a mere $300 more per month…think how the postman will admire you as he strains with his artificially heavier load. The state will address its budget concerns with the Titanium Property Tax Bill for discerning home owners. Accruing and paying debt has never been more precious…metal

O, Christmas is a coming and the geese are getting…fleeced.

As always, I welcome your comments.

 

Be careful what you say, because you never know when these words come back to haunt you:

 

And no matter what direction this may take, please don’t send me an electronic Chrustmas card…particularly one addressed to everyone on your list! December 6, 2014

 

This year I am sending electronic Christmas cards to many of the people on my lists. I designed the card, and I like it very much, so I probably put more effort into this year’s greeting than on previous. But the grim fact remains…I’m sending an electronic card to a list…exactly what I pledged not to do.

So, to quote someone or other, let me explain.

In my office, like many businesses, we are trying to be even more intentional about cutting costs. I had just received a memo to this effect as I looked through the catalog at cards for pastors and other superintendents. After selecting a design that I liked, I looked over at the price to find that these cards would cost fifty cents each. Adding postage and tax, sending a hundred cards would cost us over one hundred dollars. Suddenly a well-intentioned Christmas greeting had a cost, and I couldn’t justify spending it. Though in the large picture, a hundred dollars is no more than budget dust (a great expression I learned from a congressional lobbyist), it also could be a large number of digital texts for the library or many other benefits for students. I couldn’t justify it any more, and I announced, “That’s it, we’re going digital.”

No one will miss the cards that we send, as there is nothing more trivial than a business Christmas card (prior to writing this I just tossed a card from my friendly auto dealer into the recycle bin). At many of the parishes, the card is opened by an administrative assistant and thrown into a pile where the pastor may or may not see it before it is thrown out (or responsibly recycled) after the season is over. I’ll admit that there may be some who may be irritated when they do receive an e-card (particularly if I call it an e-card), but I think it is important to mark the season and the gift of Christmas, I just don’t think this is a gift we always have to pay for.

I’m not going to argue that electronic cards are “just as good.” For someone who likes a paper card, no amount of graphic brilliance or animated entertainment can compare to the feeling of a card in hand (similar to the argument for paper books). Reason can’t overcome convention, and some things are lost as the world moves forward. I will probably continue to send paper cards to my family and friends…for now.

But I can’t afford to make the same decision with company funds, especially a decision so contrary to every other decision I make on non-holiday days. I am publically insistent to the point of annoyance on the need to limit and eliminate paper and the inherent cost and waste. If I turn away handouts, agendas, and diagrams, how can I send pretty litter at an unreasonable cost?

As always, I welcome your comments.

Image: https://www.flickr.com/photos/mosmanlibrary/5275902450

 

In the Catholic tradition, the season of Advent is about waiting. In four weeks, the Church recognizes and relives the millennia of expectation prior to the birth of the Christ child. The chief difference between this celebration and history is that we wait in confidence that our waiting will be fulfilled. The children of Israel waited (and some still wait) for the Messiah, but despite faith, there was never certainty. The story was being written , and the end existed only in the mind of God, rather than in the Gospel of Luke.

As we wait for certain technological innovations to come into common use, our expectation better matches the experience of Israel than that of Advent. We feel confident in the promise of new technology, and we hope for effective broad-based implementation, but we're not sure when, how, or even if it will come. I can think of a number of implementations that I was certain would be in much wider use than are out there now. I wonder if this Advent has a Christmas to follow.

One of the uses of classroom technology that I'm surprised doesn't see greater use is variations of video conferencing. Most classrooms have a projector and a wifi-connected device that could easily connect to persons anywhere in the world. Likewise, the same equipment can be used to record what is going on in the classroom and send it elsewhere in real time. I pictured that teachers would use this ability to have virtual guest speakers and conduct virtual field trips, breaking down the walls of the classroom without regard for distance. Classes could speak to other classes of children from across the country or across the world with little more preparation than scheduling. This video could be turned around and children who were sick for long periods of time could virtually attend classes, participating in most activities, from their home or hospital bed. It seems to offer a world of opportunities with no additional equipment.

But it's not happening. Now I'm sure that everyone reading this can immediately point to a story they read or a video they saw demonstrating these functions. The class in California waves happily at the class in Kenya. The astronaut answers student questions. In fact, last year I wrote about a young girl attending one of our schools remotely. However, the fact that there is video or a story actually demonstrates that these are not commonplaces but unusual showcase events that are outside what goes on in most schools. What should be a weekly reality is a exciting exception. We are not there yet. I believe it is coming, but I'm waiting.

There may be several reasons why video functionality is not taking off. I'm certain that the vagaries of bandwidth and choppiness of video and sound often hobble such connections and discourage teachers from depending on them. Teachers may not have built their own networks give them access to effective guests or to other classrooms. It may be that these connections may not be time efficient. Teachers may be uncomfortable having their classroom videoed and sent into a home.

I think the most likely reason, however, is that this is cutting a new path, and while many might see its value, the persuasive call of the worn path, the easy road, trumps it every time. There is a hill of discomfort and mistakes that one must climb before reaching a plateau of productivity, and for too many, it isn't worth the effort. Until a teacher feels that video access is a worn and comfortable tool in the toolbox, events like this will remain showcases, pretty to look at, but essentially unreal.

So I'm waiting, and as always, I welcome your comments.

Image: https://www.flickr.com/photos/butterflysha/140523563

 

Well, it's here again. This marks the fourth year that I have taken on the task of writing a blogpost a day from today until Christmas Eve (to put this in perspective, I have written 13 posts so far this year). Appropriately, I am nested in a Starbucks chair before work (with my red cup), trying to use a mixture of caffeine and white noise to get me started.

First to updates. I have come to acknowledge openly this year something that I have long known but have been unwilling to state (no, it is not that I am a woman trapped in a man's body). I enjoy traveling and giving speeches and workshops more than anything else I have done in my professional career, and while I continue to find satisfaction in my job, I don't think that would continue long without these other opportunities. This realization has caused a shift in my approach from watching opportunities happen to working to make them happen. I spoke in more places last year than ever before, and I will work to make next year continue this trend. It makes me uncomfortable to offer myself, rather than waiting to be asked (and asking for appropriate fees is hell, “I'll do it for free, just want me!'), but I believe I have something valuable to offer, and this is the best outlet to do it.

Tying to this, I have also acknowledged that I MUST write a book. I have had a couple of articles published this year, and it is a great feeling, but I need to get some core ideas down on which I can scaffold my future talks. I also frankly need the legitimacy that a publication brings for my speaking gigs. I have no idea how I'm going to do this, as the long suffering readers of this blog have endured, but it has to be done. If anyone has suggestions, please let me know.

But enough of that, I wanted this first post to focus on the reader of this blog and these twenty-four doors of the Advent calendar. When talking about this blog recently, and bemoaning a bit that there are not more readers, I was asked, “Who is your audience?” My first reaction, of course was to say, “Well, me,” but it did get me thinking about who is, and who I want to be on the other end of this line.

Obviously this blog is for educators. There has never been a more challenging time in education, when so many assumptions are challenged and so many bad ideas are circulated. The term I use is “messy.” We won't have clear direction, and we will make many well-intentioned mistakes as we build the new city of learning. However, this messiness should not dissuade us from trying, for the alternative is fossilizing. I know what we have been doing will not work (and is not working), but I also know that we can't yet clearly see where we are going (that's why this blog is subtitled “Courageous Education for Frightening Times). I put forward innovations, challenges, and opportunities not as a guru on top of a mountain, but as a sometimes inept climber who looks ahead and asks, “Hmmm, what are we going to do about that?” I hope that educators who read these posts can find seed for their own ideas to grow and that these ideas would spur challenging (but respectful) conversation on the blog and elsewhere. If you like what you read here, please invite others to “join the conversation” (ugh).

Broader than this, however, I am speaking to everyone who is intrigued and confused, excited and troubled by the quickly changing world. I don't think that education is a separate world, rather a microcosm of the changes, challenges, and opportunities we are finding everywhere. How one leads, how one learns, and how one copes as the landscape shifts is what this blog tries to be about.

Finally, these twenty-four posts are about the coming of Christmas and a season that brings an intensity and complexity of emotions unlike any other. The songs and stories, the images and decorations, the nostalgia and hope, these all tumble in a life and death struggle of mistletoe and holly. As I share my experiences and memories, I invite you to do the same.

So off we go…laughing all the way!

As always, I welcome your comments

Image: https://www.flickr.com/photos/aliedwards/1922495869

 

About a month ago I wrote about the confusion caused by the many names of STEM. The addition of other subjects (STEAM, STREAM), often for reasons unrelated to the purpose of STEM, has made it more difficult to explain to parents, outsiders, and ourselves what we are doing, or why we are doing this. As promised, now I'd like to blow the doors off the whole mess and wonder what the STEM we've gotten into.

There are two parts of all STEM initiatives that I wholeheartedly endorse. It is clear that there is an ongoing and growing need for students with better skills in science, technology, engineering, and math to meet the demands of the current and future labor market. Dire predictions abound of thousands of I filled positions and jobs fleeing the country to Asia which has a larger (and far less expensive) trained work force. Though I balk at the suggestion that all (or even a majority) of jobs in the second half of the 21st Century will require STEM skills, our current method of instruction for these subjects seems to be lagging in results. The other aspect that appeals to me is breaking down silos of discrete instruction between subjects. The organization of the school schedule often places related fields far apart, and few students ever see connections or draw upon multiple branches of learning simultaneously for solutions. Too often students learn self-contained subjects rather than knowledge and skills.

That being said, I'm still wondering whether STEM initiatives truly serve the best interests of our mission. This nagging discomfort also falls into two categories. The first concern is about the relationship of the STEM subjects to the other areas of learning. STEM advocates are quick to point out that in emphasizing these areas we are not deemphasizing other areas, but I don't know what this means. Clearly money and resources will flow toward this area which can only result in less for others. This uncomfortable I'll-defined relationship between the STEM subjects and the others has led to the “letter creep” of additional subjects. To be on the gravey train, a discipline has to have a letter on board. I see a number of schools defining themselves as STEM schools, what does that say about the other skills at these schools? And what about the majority of students who will not go into a STEM field? For the unspoken reality is that a lack of people to fill these jobs currently does not mean that there are enough jobs in these areas to employ the entire population.

The other challenge I see is with the broader scope of education reform. Beside STEM there are other initiatives to improve learning such as differentiated instruction and blended learning. Though not essentially antithetical to one another, the limited capacity of schools too often forces a choice. School reform tools become almost like religious denominations, with schools worshiping at the altar of STEM or blended learning, or flipped classroom, or something else. While I appreciate all of these efforts, and I think students benefit almost any time that a school works to reform instruction (see my comments on disruptive innovation), it still seems wrong that too many schools are picking a brand to the exclusion of others.

This being said, I suppose I'm ultimately coming down on the side of developing a hybrid of all these valuable initiatives. How can we create environments where students cross the borders of subjects while working at levels that meet their needs and taking advantages of technological tools in instruction? I call this Highly Effective Instruction (HEI). Perhaps this should be the next frontier of education reform.

On the other hand, I could be completely wrong.

As always, I welcome your comments.

Image: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/STEM_Magnet_Academy

 

I'm giving a talk for Catholic school teachers and principals today related to students use of Internet and social media.

This is one of my opening slides

It's very discouraging to me that for too many people, and too many educators in particular, this is the prevailing opinion. Digital devices and connectivity are inevitable, and they will make certain things easier, but they won't make us better people. They are convenient, but it is a convenience that requires a trade off in our culture, civility and humanity.

I'm certain that this isn't the first time that a cultural change has been greeted with moral scepticism. Widespread distribution of printed texts was probably criticized by some as the end of memory and Pandora's box filled with evil things that could be written and printed. Similar criticism probably followed the introduction of radio and television, each destroying everything that came before. However, I can find no record of the unified voice of resigned despair that seems to accompany the digital revolution. It reminds me of the quote from Faulkner's Nobel Prize acceptance speech, “Our tragedy today is a general and universal physical fear so long sustained by now that we can even bear it.” Not only are we going to Hell with a hand-held, there is no reverse to the engine, so we might as well be miserable during the ride.

I think as educators we need to radically oppose this perception and this determinism. The act of education is an essentially, hopeful one, investing effort today to make a better tomorrow. If we do not believe that our digital future can be better, we relieve ourselves of all responsibility to figure out how to make it better.

And hey, those book things turned out to be pretty good.

As always, I welcome your comments.

 

I'm away this week, attending a yearly conference of Catholic Superintendents in Atlanta and speaking in Dallas on my way back, so I've been living in hotel rooms more extensively than usual. While I generally like hotel living (call me Eloise), I found myself confronted by a moral dilemma this time that demonstrates one of the many complexities of modern life.

It was a small card on the bed with a seemingly generous offer. The hotel would give me points for each day I did without maid service. The card pointed out the many environmental and energy saving benefits of this choice. As someone who has always folded and reused towels in a hotel room to save water, this seemed like a natural extension. I certainly can keep neat enough on my own. In fact, it sounds pretty selfish and indulgent to have someone make my bed and straighten up my room daily. If I get hotel points in the deal, well, then I'm just doing well by doing good. It seemed a simple choice.

But life (and the voice in my head) is complicated. As I went outside the door to put out the card to turn down service, I saw the woman pushing the cleaning cart down the hallway, and the entire issue took on a new face and a new dimension. For the hotel is not primarily interested in cutting water or chemicals, it is interested in cutting its most expensive cost, human beings. How many generations, from how many cultures have used entry-level jobs like these to make their way and feed their children? Am I, under the guise of concern for the earth, forgetting my co-inhabitants?

What's more, the offering of hotel points for this “harmless” inconvenience has all the smell of the camel's nose under the tent. People are acclimated to a new reality by giving them (essentially meaningless) trinkets, and soon the card changes to read, “Out of concern for the environment, we will only offer daily room cleaning to elite members, or those willing to pay a nominal extra charge.” Taken to its fullest extension, this program will reduce maid service to only on leaving days, which will have a job cost that I can't calculate.

Still, I don't want to poison the earth any more than I already am for an indulgent service that I don't really need.

Still, I don't need the points or the self-righteous feeling more than that woman needs her job.

If the hotel were to say in such a way that I believed them, “We will permanently maintain all staffing levels, and will use these employees in Eco-friendly roles,” the choice would be easier. But I don't think they would say that, because I don't think it is their intention.

So I ripped up the card, apologized to the woman with the cart, and went back in my room to hide my head under the covers. The modern world is really confusing (and don't get me started about the chocolate on the pillow!)

As always, I welcome your comments.

 

Here below, to live is to change

And to be perfect

Is to have changed often

(Cardinal John Henry Newman)

 

The easiest thing in the world is to criticize an educational initiative. Anyone who has been in education for any length of time can look with a jaundiced eye at passing trends and the cycle of excitement, disillusionment, and abandonment. Seasoned veterans in their cups share battle scars of the initiatives that they have endured (and buried). The danger of this is that many educators come to believe that all initiatives are without merit. This is the quickest path to fossilizing good people.

To be honest, I've been on the serving side as much as the receiving side of new ideas. Perhaps it is my fundamental tendency toward boredom, but I'm always interested in how the world is changing and how classrooms have to change as well. I bristle at accusations of jargon and gimmickry, though I understand the mechanism that causes this. However, sometimes the way a new initiative is packaged can reduce its effectiveness and sow the seeds of its own demise despite its merits.

I think we may have done this with our attempts to redefine and rebrand STEM. STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, and Math) was a relatively clear initiative (though in part 2 I need to look more deeply at this). It was “designed” around a clear need for greater emphasis on these skills that was understandable to most, and there were some fairly clear classroom applications. Whether STEM was a good idea or not, it was a concept that most parents, teachers, and students understood.

Until it got messy. In a chorus of “where's my parade?” other non-STEM subject teachers saw this initiative as a threat to their own areas, that emphasis on one must mean deemphasis of other. Doing a better job with math, science, engineering, and technology had to mean doing a worse job on the humanities. Though this was never the intent, the immediate remedy was not to answer this misperception but to add an A for Arts on the STEM (now STEAM) train. So along with working out the mathematical, technological, scientific, and engineering aspects of a problem, students would also draw a picture.

It got worse. Literature advocates, unwilling to be subsumed under the single banner of Arts, added an R for Reading, and now we were swimming in a STREAM. To complicate things further, well meaning (I say well meaning because I was one of them…if I had not been, I would have said misguided) leaders in Catholic education felt that the entire process needed to be baptized in Catholic identity, so an alternate R for Religion split the STREAM into to branches.

But I think we have made a mistake on two grounds one pedagogical and one branding. From a pedagogical perspective, the AR layover were not fundamental to the original STEM methodology, and they were not primarily added because they were missing. Rather, they were primarily added to address the perceptions and feelings of teachers (many social studies teachers continue to press for STREAMS (or STREAMSS). This Frankencurriculum does not best serve the original need of the initiative. I have seen numerous STREAM lessons and there is always a tagged on feeling to these added elements. Teachers have a significantly harder time mastering this methodology, so many don't try.

From a branding perspective (and I know we bristle at words like branding when it comes to the world of education, but to some extent I'm simply talking about clear communication) we have created an alphabet soup of terms that have lost all clear meaning to most. Whether they really understood it or not, parents, teachers, and students had a pretty clear idea what STEM is. However, when I say STEAM or STREAM, I have to spend the next five minutes explaining what I mean, and my explanation always starts, “Its like STEM, but….” Some Catholic schools still claim to do STEM, others STEAM, others STREAM, and parents ask how they are different and I have to admit, I don't know.

If we are going to pursue STEM (more to follow) let's let it be STEM, let's call it STEM, and let's let the other letters wash down the stream of experience.

As always, I welcome your comments.

Image: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/50/Christman_Sanctuary,_Stream.jpg