Work With Hope

I knew that I would need this for one day, and being the midway point, I think this makes sense.

This is an article I wrote last summer for publication in the National Catholic Education Association magazine Momentum. Enjoy!

Life on the Other Side of a Tipping Point

Nothing is more stimulating to a cause than significant opposition. We in Catholic education gravitate by nature to the underdog position, fighting against overwhelming forces of intractability and ignorance, armed only with our idealism and passion. We are fueled by a vision of a better world of education, energized to challenge all who believe otherwise. However, occasionally a time comes, in education and in life, when the challenging idea prevails over the opposition and becomes the new establishment. Ironically, this is the time when we are most challenged as educators and reformers as our vision becomes reality.

 

Such a time faces us now in the field of educational technology. Gone are the heady days of predicting radical transition of classroom instruction to educators convinced that what was always would be. There is nothing shocking about a presenter who urges schools toward 1:1 instruction, blended learning, or flipped classrooms, as many of these are the current reality of large percentages of the audience. Phrases like “21st Century Skills,” “Digital Immigrants,” or “Sage on the Sage vs Guide on the Side” are beginning to sound trite, old banners of a past campaign. While we know that schools and teachers are in all stages of digital evolution, there is a strong collective agreement on direction toward digital tools and resources. A few skirmishes still take place on the periphery, but even these feel like the dying moans of a bygone time.

 

The term tipping point has existed long before educational technology, but it was brought into popular understanding mainly through Malcolm Gladwell’s 2000 book The Tipping Point: How Little Things Can Make a Big Difference. In this book, Gladwell explored how a variety of forces work together to create substantial change. All of these forces push against an existing reality or perception and over time reach a boiling point, irrevocably overturning the old and introducing a new dominant reality.

 

In the past few years there has been a tipping point in attitudes and approaches to technology in education. The belief that technology will have no effect or limited effect is no longer dominant. The point has tipped, and it is not tipping backward again. Even the most traditional of instructors grudgingly accept that technology is here to stay.

 

It is a exciting experience to have envisioned change and see the idea catch on. Conversations can start with assumptions that were once a point of argument. Ideas that were once dreams start appearing in classrooms. Things don't work, and then they do work.

 

However, in the midst of these successes, another voice is present. It stirs in the hearts of the most fervent advocates.

 

What now?

 

It was easier before, when it was impossible. A hypothetical wifi network doesn't experience outages. Hypothetical apps work smoothly and intuitively. Most importantly, hypothetical students are engaged with the lesson, don't drift off task, and never look at things they shouldn't. A real technological classroom is a messy place, a jungle of unintended consequences. Even an educational technology zealot can feel adrift in a sea of “success.”

 

For a Catholic educator these challenges are even more profound. Digital citizenship isn't enough to serve our mission. We are called to bring children to Christ though all means at our disposal. Writing the roadmap to holiness with new tools, tools that have potential for good and evil, is not an easy task. However, this is why the leadership of Catholic educators has never been more vital, as we model and teach not just appropriate use, but good use (and uses for good) of digital and social tools.

 

So how do we navigate in these uncharted waters on the other side of the digital tipping point? While there are no simple answers (if there were someone would publish them and the discussion would be over), but there are three major keys to guide planning, implementing and growing digital schools.

 

1. Move from equipment goals to performance goals.

A large part of the pursuit of the world of digital education has been an equipment arms race. School programs (and schools) have been defined more by the stuff in classrooms than by what is going on in the classrooms. This has led to an aggressive technological arms race as schools advertise their projectors, document cameras, Smartboards, student response clickers, and 1×4/1×2/1×1/2×1 device ratios. “We’re a Smartboard school,” an administrator brags (which at least verifies that the boards are smart there). While the pursuit of equipment was a vital stage as we pushed toward the tipping point (and remains important still), there needs to be an intentional movement away from devices being the end goal to a greater focus on student performance. Schools need to return to the most basic and vital question of education, “What will our students know or be able to do at the end of the day/month/school year?”

 

While there will be a tendency to reduce these goals to improvement in test scores (particularly on standardized tests), this should not be the only criteria. Students do not primarily need to be better test takers, they need to be better learners, independently and collaboratively. While these skills can be harder to quantify than multiple choice tests (often a good example of testing what we can instead of what we should), schools can set goals for clear indicators of critical thought, of problem solving, of cooperative investigation. On the other side of the tipping point, devices only have validity in connection to student achievement.

 

2. Make friends with failure

One of the unfortunate by-products of a crusade is the reluctance and inability to admit weakness or failure. While understandable, this can lead to wrong decisions perpetuated out of stubbornness and fear of criticism. If a digital future for education is now generally accepted, then the best decisions must be made, and mistakes must be admitted and corrected. The constant growth and change in the digital world virtually guarantees that schools will make honest misjudgments. Rather than fight this, school administrators need to develop a more failure-friendly voice with faculty, parents, and students, recognizing that things will go wrong and that all will work together to fix them.

 

This is not to encourage skittishness, abandoning a solid plan at the first sign of trouble or the introduction of a new “hot” device. Rather it is an acknowledgement that technology planning is a highly complex process with many moving parts in a field of constant change. An educator who makes only correct decisions in this area is either a divinely inspired genius, or delusional (more likely the second). On the other side of the tipping point, we are no longer fighting for a cause, we are fighting for the best approaches.

 

3. Plant good wheat

One does not have to look far to find articles decrying the “bad stuff” available on the Internet (one does not have to look far to find bad stuff on the Internet). This is an undeniable reality, but it is also undeniable that our children will inhabit this world whether we provide direction to them or not. Faithful to our mission as Catholic educators, we cannot ignore this evil, and teaching safety is a vital life skill. However, we can be true change agents in the digital world by teaching students skills of positive participation.

 

In the parable of the Sower and the Seed, Jesus talked about wheat seed that landed among thorns, which stifled its growth. As Catholic educators, we need to turn this parable around, encouraging students to sow appropriate Internet venues with so much good wheat that over time it will be the weeds that are choked out. On the other side of the tipping point, the solution to evil on the Internet is good on the Internet,

 

For those who have struggled to make the case for digital integration into our Catholic schools, finding the wheels of history turning in their favor can be a challenging transition. However, this is not the beginning of the end. Rather, it is the end of the beginning, as new, more exciting chapters await on the other side of the tipping point.

 

I was having lunch today with a friend who also works for a major educational publisher. It has been a pleasure over the years to share with him my thoughts about current and future directions in delivery systems for schools. As I've said many times in presentations and in print, the timeline for conversion from paper to digital texts seems to grow shorter every day. Though paper texts will exist for the foreseeable future, it is clear to me that publishers will shift (and already are shifting) the bulk of their resources toward digital properties. Paper will be kept on as a legacy, but it will be neglected and costly.

The first inclination with this conversion has been to create a product that is similar to what has always been. Thus early e-texts were little more than pdf's (photographs) of existing paper texts. In education when we get new wineskins, we always try to fill them with old wine. Paper texts were limited to words and pictures, and early e-texts embraced the same limitations. However, what has been needed, and what is beginning to be done, is a rethinking of the entire paradigm of the textbook to make something new built on what works best, not what is most like the past.

First, I think we should eliminate the term e-text. Even this term is a cramming of the old into a new form. Text in the mind of most refers to writing, and though writing is part of this, it is not the reason for a school resource. I like the term learning system, because it clearly communcates ultimate purpose while recognizing a many-faceted approach.

While the forms of these learning systems will contain various tools including text, pictures, videos, audio, assessments, and tools not yet invented, there are three characteristics that educators and others can look for to evaluate digital learning systems as this new model develops.

First and most important is the quality of the information and pedagogy of the contents. A flashy package can be used to conceal a lack of depth or effectiveness (see: emperor's new clothes). This evaluation is the closest to a traditional textbook assessment. Is the information good? Is it presented so that students can easily interact? Do students who use this resource master the standards? If these foundational needs aren't met, none of the more advanced characteristics will matter.

Second, a true learning system should be interactive and adaptive. A student should demonstrate competency, not just passively stare at a page. Not only this, but the learning system should recognize areas of need and adapt what and how material is presented to meet these needs. This is what technology is best at, recognizing and reacting to a wide variety of options. Even better would be a learning system that could take the granular results of diagnostic testing and create a customized program that meets the needs of each specific student. Finally, if these results were available to the teacher to help with her or his planning, that would be best. Individualization of education is one of the most important trends of the digital future, and this starts with effective tools.

Finally, though it is less important to students than to school, the delivery system, specifically the versatility of the delivery system. Are these resources available on any platform? Are they restricted by a proprietary distribution method? Do they interact easily with other learning tools. This is an area where publishers will need to be pushed, as their inclination will be to protect materials by locking them down, and only by a concentrated effort on the part of schools to favor and purchase materials that are more open and more adapted to universal standards will publishers be forced to comply.

The conversion from paper to digital texts is an opportunity to correct mistakes and make something better, or we can make the same mistakes and let others dictate the model based on financial advantage and not student learning.

As always, I welcome your comments

Image: https://farm9.static.flickr.com/8015/7658034524_cea1c4ddba.jpg

 

 

 

Don't have time to write today, so I thought I'd post a picture of what my principals got me for Christmas.

I was overwhelmed

As always, I welcome your comments.

 

I wrote about this briefly on Facebook a while back, but I wanted to develop it further.

A few weeks ago, I was shopping at the grocery store, and I noticed a change as I went down the coffee aisle. I was searching for the instant coffee that I drink in the morning, a section I have seen shrinking for quite some time (when was the last time when you met an oddball who drank instant coffee?). However, as I looked back over the aisle, I noticed a new balance of power, a visual tipping point on aisle three.

For the first time, I saw that the aisle space dedicated to traditional cans of coffee had been surpassed by boxes of K-cups. Between different brands and innumerable different favors, the Keurig (and copycat brands) instant single cup delivery system seems to have triumphed over the traditional pot (or the college student cup O'instant).

Never one to see a cigar as just a cigar, I immediately moved to greater implications of this ground shift. The clear predominance of this new technology makes statements about the users. It represents the movement away from the communal pot toward the individual cup. No need to share a single flavor, every drinker looks out for himself. I know there is a commercial for a multi-cup Keurig machine, but this somewhat defeats the purpose. It is an offshoot of the Starbucks mentality, let's all go in and have our own thing. Even the communal experience is highly individualistic. Keurig means I'm looking out for number 1.

More disturbing to me is the ecological choice made by The K-cup klatch. Every cup has its own disposable delivery system, plastic to go into landfills. I felt the same about daily contact lenses…not for the lenses themselves, but for the huge amount of plastic and metal trashed daily in delivery. Although some K-cup boxes boast of their environmentally friendly recyclable cups, it is a false comfort ignoring the energy that goes into the recycling process. I know that there are reusable cups, but I would love to see statistics about their use. Even apart from the plastic and paper, the K-cup uses far more coffee per cup than traditional drip in order to reach the correct saturation during the high-speed dispensing process. With every K-cup, we dispose of useable coffee. The culture of Keurig is the culture of waste.

So I grabbed my cheap instant coffee and went to checkout, leaving behind a store display and a lesson about modern humanity.

Hmmm, a cup of coffee sounds good now.

As always, I welcome your comments.

Image: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/fc/Coffee_capsules_-_anieto2k.jpg

 

As we take our walk with the dogs at night, we walk by what used to be the holiday house, a house with such amazing decorations and animations that it was a yearly feature on the television news. Ever since we moved here twelve years ago, it has been a yearly tradition to walk over on Thanksgiving night (the first night they were lit) to join the crowds enjoying the yearly spectacle, and looking for what new features the designer had created. Every night during the holiday season, the holiday house was a stopping point while walking the dogs, enjoying the lights and talking with the owners and neighbors. The holiday house became a gathering point through the season, a place to see people that you didn’t see any other time.

But last year there was an additional sign announcing it to be the “finale” since the owners were moving out of state. Last year’s viewings were bitter sweet, as every visit was colored with the knowledge that it was all coming to an end. On January 2, when the house went dark for the last time, it was the last time. Soon there followed the For Sale sign, the garage sale (where Toni bought many of the decorations), and the moving truck. Come November 1 this year, we missed the month-long setup for the great reveal. Now, there’s nothing. The new owners don’t put out any decorations, and the house looks very dark, a darkness that is permanent. As many Christmases as we live here, we will never see that display again.

Most are aware that David Letterman has announced that he will be retiring from The Later Show next year. I’ve watched Letterman from his early days on NBC, and though I am no longer able to stay up to watch, I still enjoy parts of his show online. In a few days, the show will feature Darlene Love singing my favorite secular Christmas song, “Christmas, Baby Please Come Home,” a yearly holiday tradition since 1989. I was watching the first time she sang, and have marveled over the years as the production has grown to include an orchestra, backup singers, a baritone saxophone player who always makes some sort of an entrance, and snow at the end (if you haven’t ever seen this, go to YouTube and search for Darlene Love, Letterman. Go ahead, I’ll wait…pretty spectacular, huh?)

This week Darlene Love announced that this final holiday season of the Letterman Show will be her final performance of the song on late night TV. She will not take this tradition to any other show, including the new Late Show with Stephen Colbert. This will be the last time, and then it will be gone.

This season makes us recognize the many good things that we have, but in the midst of this glowing gratitude, there is a shadow recognition of the things we don’t have any more, the things and people who have gone from our lives that will never return. So let’s enjoy what is there this year (including the last performance of “Christmas, Baby Please Come Home.”) and let’s remember with fondness (and some sadness) the things, the times, the people, who aren’t there.

As always, I welcome your comments.

Image: http://abcnewsradioonline.com/storage/music-news-images/M_DarleneLoveRockHall630_050212.jpg?__SQUARESPACE_CACHEVERSION=1392160306369

 

 

This may be one that might irk a few people…sorry in advance.

Christmas carols are joyous and sad and nostalgic and funny, and at least one is downright creepy.

“Baby, It's Cold Outside,” was written in 1944 by Frank Loesser and was first sung by Ricardo Montalban and Ester Williams in the MGM movie Neptune's Daughter (the song was reprised in the same film by Red Skelton and Betty Garrett). It has been recorded by countless duos in the succeeding years including Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Jordan, Zooey Deschanel and Will Farrell, and Dolly Parton and Rod Stewart.

The song is written as a dialogue between two characters designated as “Mouse” and “Wolf” on the original score. Through flattery, alcohol, and the threat of outdoor temperatures, the wolf persuades the mouse to “see it his way” and stay into the night. It's a beloved holiday classic.

But beneath the jingle bells is a darker reality. The wolf of our story is not anxious to keep the mouse out of the cold for mere companionship. If the name “wolf” isn't enough to tip you off, his smooth patter and double reference to her “delicious” lips betray his true intent. “Mind if I move in closer?” could be a subtitle of the entire song. Music, alcohol, cigarettes, and warmth are tools of a typical seduction.

And perhaps this wouldn't be so creepy if it ended here, but several lines would be danger signs in any time. “Say, what's in this drink?” reads like a headline from current news. Her continued resistance for herself and her reputation is ignored. “The answer is no,” should be the end of things, but it is only one more step toward the inevitable. His words are even more sinister, referring to her resistance as hurting his pride, and urging her to “get over this hold out.”

As much as the clever song suggests that the mouse has ultimately given in to her own true desire, it seems to me that she has been held against her will, perhaps drugged, and pressured to overcome her final decision.

Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la.

As always, I welcome your comments

 

In case you have been living under a rock (or in the real world) Serial is an offshoot of the popular radio (and podcast) program This American Life. The podcast, hosted by Sarah Koenig is a retelling/reexamination of a murder case of fifteen years ago. Annan Syed, a high school student of Pakistani heritage was accused and convicted of murdering his ex-girlfriend Hae Min Lee in Baltimore 15 years ago. Each week the narrator examines some portion of the story: the event, the witnesses, the trial, the evidence, all with the purpose of trying to find the truth amid the mountain of conflicting detail. From the first episode, we have been invited to speculate whether this (no longer so) young man is an innocent victim of circumstances who is serving a life sentence based on a miscarriage of justice, or a cold-blooded killer, who claims innocence only to exploit the narrator.

We are currently 10 episodes in, and I frankly don’t have any idea what is true, what is false, and what I am being manipulated into thinking. The narrator is pretty good about maintaining impartiality, recognizing both exculpatory and damning facts, but perhaps this is even a manipulation. I am hoping that by the end, clarity will emerge, but based on something that was said in today’s episode, I am starting to worry that the series might end up with a draw, allowing the listener to draw his or her own conclusion. (I currently am liking a joke made on another podcast hoping that it turns out that the reporter did it).

This isn’t really new, crime procedurals, both fictional and fact-based have been on radio and television for years. One could easily picture a Law and Order episode dealing with a similar case, or a 48 Hours true crine episode. The difference is that this analysis is stretched, taking several months and looking at every detail

So if you are looking for a wonderful, engaging story, and you are willing to risk a possible stalemate, them Serial is for you.

I think Jay did it, but, as always, I welcome your

 

Image: https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2155/1827215138_41250f01a7_z.jpg?zz=1

 

 

Today is December 6, and as of today, we have not had any Christmas cards delivered to our home. There has been nothing yet from any relatives, friends, or even the dentist. Usually the first box I have to take from the rafters is the Christmas card holder. Today, with most of our other Christmas supplies out, it still sits in the box.

This is not a “no one likes us” pity party. I know I will receive many cards at work, and a number at home (to be fair, we have not yet sent our cards…taking the picture tomorrow). Rather this is a reflection on a dying piece of our culture. I am fairly certain that at the end of the season I will find this year what I found last year, that Christmas cards are going the way of the dinosaur.

It is honestly hard to make the argument for Christmas cards any more. They are expensive for something that is completely ephemeral. I always grumble about the price of cards that are essentially pretty litter. Though buying stamps is easier than it once was, finding Christmas stamps often still requires a trip to the post office, a practice that practically smells like a grandparent. Most essentially, the yearly connection between “friends both far and near” seems less special in a Facebook world where I know what you ate for dinner last night. More and more people are eliminating it as one less time consuming chore in the busyness of life. Most ominous for the practice, I don't see my daughter picking it up, or many from her generation.

As I print the list each year, I can't help but notice (though I try not to) how many of our sendees have not sent us a card in years. Though the ubiquity of photo cards, made so much easier with the advent of digital photography, and the ease of mass produced newsletter (horrors!) have kept the practice alive for a bit, to paraphrase the Ghost of Christmas present, I don't think it will be found by many more of his kind,

And this makes me sad. What? (You say) The stomper on older practices wants to hold on to something? Isn't that somewhat hypocritical? No, it's completely hypocritical, but to be fair, I've never said that it is wrong to feel bad about older practices disappearing, but foolish to try and hold on to them for their own sake. I will miss the yearly excitement of receiving a pile of cards and opening each one, feeling for a moment the brief re attachment to people with whom I've lost daily contact. I'll miss the added joy of finding a note or a hand written letter enclosed. I'll even miss the occasional beautiful picture or truly clever card.

Most of all, I'll miss the job of preparing and sending cards, a job I learned by watching my mother. It was a time consuming process (particularly in those years when she block printed her own cards) and therefore it was important. I remember the pile that was set aside so my Dad could write letters to his relatives. Though I have digitized many of the steps, I have kept the practice, including making sure that something was hand written on every card, a yearly little gift to those with whom I share my life.

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!

As always, I welcome your comments.

Image: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/9/90/Santa_Claus_and_His_Reindeer.jpg

 

 

Yesterday I talked about the calendar-based challenges to making substantial change to schools or instruction in the first four months of the school year. Jumping from back to school warmup to the monthly buildup and physical and emotional disruption of the three major holidays, there is a constant subtle (and not so subtle) gravitational force holding us to earth and our comfortable patterns.

So after the new year should be a perfect time to start new, right? Well, the atmosphere does shift, but not in a way that is conducive to innovation. Despite the fact that the majority of the school year remains, despite the start of a new semester, my experience is that January starts the long beginning of the end of the year and anticipation of the next. Events for graduates start early, signaling to all that the end is near. In the world of Catholic schools, January marks the opening of enrollment season for the following year. It isn't long before meetings start taking the tone of planning, rather than starting or maintaining new ideas in the current year. Excitement grows not so much for what we are doing, but for the new ideas for next year…next year when we will really change things.

To be fair, many great teachers and administrators do manage to buck these seasonal gravitational forces. I also don't want to suggest that the daily and seasonal disruptions to “normal” class are a bad thing. However, when we go from year to year wondering why that program never got started, or why we end up doing the same things in the same ways, we have to recognize that it isn't all about us…the callender conspires against us.

This of course poses the question of how to fix this problem. It isn't easy, because the seasonal nature of school is integral to what it is. Many schools experimented with year-round programs in the ‘90s, but most of these have come back to the traditional schedule. It is also very difficult for any school to move unilaterally on this, because parents with kids at multiple schools very much want uniformity of schedule. No matter what the schedule, the current nature of school requires a start and stop as students matriculate. In fact, this grade level orientation may be one of the issues that should be addressed in school reform, but how does a school (or better a school system) stop midstream to make corrections?

It may take a larger disruption than the will to reform to overcome the inertia of the school year. However, until that disruption, be it major change in public opinion, financial collapse of school funding, or alien attack, comes, we need to fight the gravity of the calendar.

As always, I welcome your comments.

Image: http://pixabay.com/p-92418/?no_redirect

 

Let me explain. Teachers return in August full of energy and new ideas. Most figure, just give me a few weeks for me an the students to get settled, and then we can get serious about planning. However, mid-September is often the hottest time of the year in Southern California. Survival is more important than fundamental change. At the high school level this is exacerbated by the football season, the most disruptive of sports in terms of time, energy, and attendance. So things get pushed back…we’ll start in October.

However, early in October, a force that is stronger than any teacher’s intentions or will hits with full force: HALLOWEENTHANKSGIVINGCHRISTMAS. Holidays are so closely built into the DNA of schools that beginning October 1, there is a progressive disengagement on the part of students and teachers. Few schools have parent meetings in December that aren’t gathered around singing angels, shepherds, and wise men. Most schools cut faculty meetings to a minimum, some have none at all. Innovation dies as the year comes to an end filled with promises and good intentions for the next year.

I’ve been experiencing it (and feeling it) myself. Despite the fact that there are three weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas, and despite the fact that these are actually less busy than the rest of the year, I have to fight to keep working on things. It is too easy to fall into procrastination (always a good friend of mine). I have na important meeting next Friday, and I found myself thinking, “too close to the holiday…should reschedule). I’m not the solution, I’m part of the problem.

I’m running late tonight, so I’m going to break this into two. Tomorrow I’ll talk about what happens after that anticipated new year.

As always, I welcome your comments.

Image: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/f6/Wooden_hourglass_2.jpg