Day 5: From the Outside In

My house celebrates two seasons right now. Outside the lights celebrate the Christmas season. Inside the tablecloths and wreaths still say Thanksgiving. Outside one needs sunglasses passing by. Inside the quiet, mellow autumnal colors still cover the walls. Christmas always comes from the outside in.

People who walk or drive by often stop to enjoy the lights. While I wouldn't call our display excessive (I supposed excessive is in the eye of the beholder), we always have the most lights on the street. I love the lights; they help to keep away the darkness of the shortening days. I always feel that Christmas lights are a gift that you give your neighbors and a gift you give yourself. I'm sure that people stopping by assume an equally ornate interior, but it's not. Christmas comes from the outside in.

Next weekend a few things will show up inside, a garland, a figurine, cookies, but not everything. Christmas decorations grow as the days pass. The lights glow brighter, the beloved heirlooms, each with its own story, the nutcrackers, the Santas, the Nativities. Each day celebrates a new revelation or a familiar friend. Christmas comes from the outside in.

Finally, and with only days to go, the tree rises as the culmination of the month of decoration. The house glows and glitters as much as the yard.

Christmas comes from the outside in.

 

Day 4: The Days of Our Lives

One of the silly qualifications I have put on this writing journey is that I not think about the topic for the day until the day itself. Luckily, this morning I was given a gift.

This morning I read about an iOS app called Days of Life. The 99¢ app asks your age, gender, and country and then predicts your likely age of death, illustrating this with the number of days you have left in large numerals and a pie chart indicating the number of days you have lived relative to the number of days you have left. Of course I downloaded this immediately, answered the questions, and discovered that I have 7777 days left.

I was surprised by two things. First, by the neatness of four 7s, what are the odds that I would ask of this particular day? The second was that the number was less than 10,000. If you asked me prior to today, I probably would have estimated having about that, so in a moment I lost 8 years. Of course I looked up when this would be and I discovered that I will die on my birthday, March 21, 2035. It will be a Wednesday. The app also allows me to set monthly, weekly, or daily update notifications…in case I forget.

Wait a second, I thought, there are too many factors for this to be accurate. I've never smoked, I exercise, I don't have any pre-existing conditions. If this is the actuarial data for all males of my age group who live in the US, then there must be a number who would have significantly shorter lives, so that would push my number up. Then I realized that I was arguing with a 99¢ app.

My reaction to this number in many ways paralleled stages of grieving. I was shocked, denying and bargaining (I realize these aren't the actual stages, but you get the point). Despite my intellectual knowledge of the clear untrustworthiness of…let me say it again, a 99¢ app…it felt a little like being told I have less than 22 years to live. I'm terminal.

As I thought about what all this meant I considered and discarded a number of morals. I certainly am not aiming for a hipster YOLO message. I don't want (or think it's necessary) to remind everyone of our mortality during these dying days of the year. I am also virtually certain that I won't die on March 21, 2035 (and the idea of dying on a Wednesday!), but I don't want to dwell on “you know not the day nor the hour.” So I think I'll leave the experience as it is and let you draw from it what you will.

By the time I finish these 24 days I'll have 7757 days…

As always, I welcome your comments.

Image: Tick Tick. Don't use this one…use your own!

 

Day 3: Virtual Attendance

I started to write today about how everyone has mismatched candles in their advent wreaths, but a seasonal observation kept morphing into treacly metaphors and morals, so enough said on that.

It is amazingly wonderful to me when an idea I've heard or kicked around or even talked about suddenly is in front of me as a reality. A month ago I was visiting one of the schools in my diocese, and during my visit I sat for a few minutes in each of the classrooms. In one of the rooms, I noticed an iPad leaned against a central desk. When I asked about this, the teacher replied, “Oh, that's Theresa.” Theresa (not her real name) was a child out on long term illness; however, rather than leave her behind or send cold, isolating assignments home, this teacher, school, and parent chose to harness the powers of digital tools to break this barrier. Now, every day that she is able, Theresa joins her class, listens, participates, and stays connected. Her presence is so real that the iPad is not an iPad alone, but the symbolic reality of Theresa, to teacher and students even when she isn't on the screen.

The extent of this presence was driven home to me further a few weeks later when I attended a Veterans' Day program at the same school. I noticed a teacher holding up an iPad, and I asked if they were videoing the event for distribution. “No, that's Theresa,” I was informed and was nearly brought to tears. This virtual attendance was a wonderful yoking of the best of technology and the best of humanity.

Later I heard the story of another Catholic school that has a student on virtual attendance. The classroom iPad in this case is attached to a doll which is called the student's avatar. I'm certain that this is going on in many more places than any of us know.

One of beauties of this service is that it isn't a huge project; virtually any two devices, can create this link. The only leap is not one of technology, but one of imagination and courage. There are glitches, and the child can't hear and see everything that would be seen by one physically sitting in the room. Is this the same as physical attendance? no, but it is far, far superior to what we have been doing. Could this be abused? perhaps. I feel differently about the child with illness than I do about the child whose parent took him or her out for an extended vacation. But maybe that's my lack of imagination. I don't want a teacher to turn around and see thirty desks with faces on iPads staring back, but I don't want children at home isolated, lonely, and missing the joy of community learning.

This will not be a panacea. We will need to assess how much students learn in this structure. Likewise, we need to discover how accountable students can be for their “classroom” time. I'm certain some students will adapt to this better than others, and certainly the limitations of an illness will dictate how this can be done. However, given the ease of delivery, I don't see any clear disadvantages to trying.

Let's do more of this.

As always, I welcome your comments.

Image: 'Chairs'

http://www.flickr.com/photos/89898604@N00/6550520 Found on flickrcc.net

 

Day 2: Bitcoin, Beanie Babies, and Tulips

I was listening this morning to experts on a technology podcast discussing the current valuation and future of Bitcoin. This online currency, which operates separate from any country or bank, made the news this week when the announced valuation of a single Bitcoin surpassed the $1000 mark. The trading of Bitcoin, which takes place completely on the Internet, has heated to a fever pitch, and the analysts speculated that this could be only the beginning.

I am interested in Bitcoin (though I don’t possess any). I see it as a manifestation of the movement away from paper or even plastic currency that I experience whenever I pay for my coffee at Starbucks with my phone. Clearly I am not alone here, as demand for this limited and precious electronic commodity continues to drive up the prices. This is all despite the fact that to date virtually no retailers accept Bitcoin as legal tender, and the US Governement will not accept it for payment of taxes. Currently Bitcoin is mainly used for limited online purchases, certain hipster retail outlets, and (allegedly) for online drug deals.

What is impossible to assess right now is whether this is the beginning of a significant new international economy or the feeding frenzy of crowds. One does not have to think long back to remember the Beanie Baby craze of the mid 90s when otherwise level-headed people sunk their investment dollars into tiny stuffed animal toys. People were certain that the limited editions (particularly those that went out of production) were as good as gold, and that the trading fairs would go on forever. The loveable nesteggs skyrocketed in price until overnight their value plummeted to literally fluff.

Such bubbles can be traced well before the invention of synthetic sock puppets. In the early 1600s the population of Holland went crazy for tulip bulbs. Perceived scarcity and an overheated market brought the price of a single tulip bulb to well over the yearly income of an average citizen. Like with Beanie Babies, there was a tangible object acquired, but the object only maintained its value as long as the majority believed in the value. As the bubble burst, Dutch traders were left with piles of bulbs which they could not sell, eat, or use to ward off creditors.

On the other hand, intrisically useless things that prove useful to a group can maintain confidence indefinitely. The essence of any system of currency is the agreed trade of useless objects to represent real concepts. My dollar bill is not worth anything. I can’t collect a dollar of gold or make the paper into anything valuable. Dollars are valuable only because we all agree to the illusion (in one of Kurt Vonnegut’s final novels Galapagos, humankind is brought to apocalyptic disaster when as a group they suddenly realized they’d were trading useless paper). Of course a dollar has the “full faith and credit” of the United States, but if individuals started to turn them down, it would not be long before the value tulipped out. If people find value in trading Bitcoin, and if it eases transactions across continents and cultures, there may be a future in a non-existent currency.

Why write about this here? Besides the fact that I find this utterly fascinating (and besides the fact that I will need to write about everything to fill 24 days), I think there are lessons for all of us in tech. Obviously there is much speculative madness in new technology for education and elsewhere as companies rise and fall based on confidence as much as intrinsic value. The iPad is the best because everyone believes it is the best, and that will change not as much from the introduction of a superior device as from a mass decision that something else is better. In the end, we are all tulips in the wind.

As always, I welcome your comments.

Image: ‘Green Sally Up’ http://www.flickr.com/photos/51035555243@N01/11708787 Found on flickrcc.net

 

The 24 Blogposts of Christmas, Day 1: Bumping into Advent

Note: My wife has told me that I completely misunderstood what was happening in this opening anecdote. She may be right, but the story is better when I tell it my way.

At mass this morning we celebrated the First Sunday of Advent. In our church there is a large Advent wreath suspended from a cable that is lowered before mass and then raised after the candle is lit. The incongruous electric sound of the motor immediately after we participate in the ancient rite of evergreen, candle, and flame always brings a bit of a chuckle, but unless it is raised, the wreath would be in the direct path of the ministers and others.

This morning, however, it appears that something went wrong. After a few feet, the motor jerked, and the wreath was left lower than usual. It was not completely in the way, but low enough that one could bump into it if not paying attention.

As I sighed at another failure of technology, it occurred to me that this conspicuous wreath was actually the best symbol of the season, and a good explanation of what I am trying to do with my blog this month.

Advent is a season of focused expectations. As the Church celebrates the waiting for the birth of the Christchild, it calls on us to explicitly celebrate that it isn't Christmas yet. Today is today, not tomorrow, and though I may long for tomorrow, I need to focus on this day that I have been given. Much of our lives (or at least my life) is spent pushing into the next thing, not focusing on the current things. I start the week looking forward to the next weekend, the school year looking forward to summer, December 1 looking forward to Christmas. Advent tries to get in the way of this living for tomorrow, if we let ourselves bump into it on the way to Christmas, we receive a gift of four weeks (well three and a half this year) that we too readily wish away.

This effort to pull oneself out of the race of time to focus on the now transcends Advent, and has relevance to those who don't celebrate. In a way it reminds me of Thoreau's explanation of the Walden experiment:

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”

I think this is what I'm trying to do here. This is not a Christmas blog (despite the title), rather it is a recording of days that are not Christmas, noticing the too often ignored, and trying to live in this non-existent time. Will I talk about Christmas? yes, I am not an Advent absolutist. However, each day I will try to focus on something of that day as a living document that I lived these days, and didn't yadda-yadda my way to Christmas.

The best analogy, which I used before when I did this, is that of the Advent Calendar. Each door opens with its own gift, and that's all one gets today. I look forward to bumping into Advent for the next 24 days. I hope I'll bump into you too.

As always, I welcome your comments, and suggestions for topics

Image: Advent Wreath in St Norbert's . Use with citation.

 

Preview of Coming Attractions

Yes, yes, yes, I've been quite scarce in the blogosphere recently. If it were not for my general record of sporadic performance, I know that many would have given up. However, this break has been caused by more that the usual busyness and sloth. I've been gearing up for something.

Yes, folks, beginning December 1, I will once again attempt the 24 Days of Blogposts. I first tried this blogging Advent calendar two years ago, and though successful in entries, I was so dried out at the end that I swore never again. However, like childbirth, eventually as the pain dulls, amnesia sets in, and off we go again.

As with any decision in life, I think there are many reasons of varying virtue. Of the ones I'm aware, here are a few:

  1. Nothing focuses me on a subject like writing about it.
  2. Writing daily practices skills of style and awareness
  3. The best place to write a quick blogpost is Starbucks, and I love to go to Starbucks (in one right now).
  4. The seasons of Advent and Christmas are times of intense (many would say maudlin) feelings for me, and this helps to process them a bit.
  5. This is a way to shamelessly pad my yearly total of blogposts, giving me the appearance of a regular writer.
  6. I don't have any travel or workshops in December, and I can't stand not having needless additional pressure.
  7. I can't stand not writing!!

So expect the launch in five days. I hope that some of you will enjoy this.

I invite your comments, or even more helpful suggestions for topics!

Image: 'anthony & the johnsons:knockin' on heaven's door' http://www.flickr.com/photos/41754875@N00/3153346586 Found on flickrcc.net

 

No WIFI in the Inn

I was disturbed this week to discover that the yearly conference of Chief Administrators of Catholic Education (CACE) next week will not have wifi except in certain areas, and not in the presentation rooms. I've said my peace with the conference leadership, and I've criticized in this blog the lack of vision that these decisions embody enough. Today, however, I'd like to explore a different part of this absurd equation.

Whenever I question the lack of wifi at a conference, I'm always told the same thing: “It's too expensive,” and though I think many conferences waste plenty of money on less necessary things (like paper programs), I can't help but agree. Hotels and convention centers charge a completely extortionate rate to provide wifi service to public areas. As with catering, venues use wifi to disproportionately boost income over expense. The infrastructure to support this is already in place, and it is simply a matter of boosting bandwidth proportionately for the number involved, something that they do regularly with those willing to pay the ransom.

Bandwidth isn't cheap, as ISPs are partners in extortion, but the fees passed on to events are completely unrelated to cost. There are virtually no personnel costs related to increased bandwidth which are always the largest expense for a vendor. Venues charge this much not because it costs so much, but simply because they can.

How do we break from this? I think there is a simple market solution . Reasonably priced blanket wifi expense must be a priority of event organizers, choosing one venue over another on this basis and communicating clearly to management of losing sites that this was the reason for the choice. Since so many conferences are currently going without, it is clear that venues don't depend on this revenue. Like other dying economic realities, vendors try to hold on to old-model income as long as possible. However, as the market changes, they have to let these go. Venues intent on increasing business will see this as a selling area, rather than a occasional luxury add on. By moving this part of the discussion to the front, instead of an extra, we can use the forces of competition to help change the nature of the market. Too often I hear wifi described as a “nice to have,” and the first thing cut in budget trimming. For the millionth time, it is not a “nice to have,” it is essential.

I believe that there will come a day when wifi will be truly ubiquitous, and this will be taken from the hands of individual site vendors, but until that time, we need to train them by our actions.

As always, I welcome your comments.

Image: 'The Leopard Inn, Burslem'

http://www.flickr.com/photos/88669217@N02/8419506295 Found on flickrcc.net

 

 

To Tweet as Jesus Did?

Last Saturday I moderated a discussion of the Twitter group #Catholicedchat (6-7am PDT). Moderated is perhaps too fancy a word, as the group is so enthusiastic that I barely have to say a word and they take off and run with it. Among this group are some of the brightest and best Catholic educators across the country; teachers, administrators, superintendents, all interested in discussing the issues of the day and sharing experiences, ideas and support. I participate in few groups that better embody the motto of this site, “courageous education in frightening times.”

The topic I brought for discussion this week was social media, specifically how a Catholic educator can participate in social media authentically and not get in trouble or get fired. I've seen too many cases of good people saying or sharing something only to have this seen more widely than intended and causing challenges…or worse. I was interested in ways that this group who participates regularly and deeply in social media navigates these obstacles.

One of the founding mothers of the group, and one of my all-time favorite people, said that she follows a rule of WWJT, “What would Jesus tweet?” Many people liked this, and it seemed to come out of the conversation as a sort of guideline. I like the way that a question like this forces one stop and consider before posting, and I'm sure in virtually every case this can steer one from problems.

But I don't believe it.

If I were to use social media with the courage, the lack of filters, and lack of convenient political sensitivity that Jesus showed throughout his life, I'm certain that I would soon find myself in hot water. If I were to say, “It is easier for a camel to get through the eye of a needle, than a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.” without couching it in excuses, what would my donors say? If I were to criticize pharisees as directly and without apologies as our Lord, I'm certain that my phone would be ringing. If I were to comment on current political and social realities the way that Jesus addressed those of his day, my suitability for my job would be questioned.

I certainly believe that we should follow a model of love, generosity, forgiveness, and healing in everything we say, online and off, and to this we can look to the life of Jesus. But I'm not sure that this is a guideline that will avoid controversy for my teachers and for myself.

As always, I invite your comments.

Image: 'Twitter escultura de arena' http://www.flickr.com/photos/32931740@N06/3939487692 Found on flickrcc.net

 

IOS7’s Deadly Sins

I need to be very careful choosing my words here because I don’t want to let frustration overstep factuality. As with most things Apple, my feelings (and my ire) are mixed.

Let me lead with the positive. As everyone knows, iOS7 was released last week, and as anyone who knows me could expect, I downloaded it immediately on both my phone and my iPad. I like the look and operation of 7. Though it took a little experimentation to find some of the features, most of the changes are for the better. I experienced none of the challenges in operation or functionality that I have read about elsewhere. Though I would not classify this as earthshaking as some others, I can see how it makes my devices better.

This fall several schools in my diocese are launching 1:1 programs using iPads. I support and to a great extent recommend this device as a good solution for 1:1. I’ve discussed at length in other posts why I feel this way, and I’ve yet to see another single device that changes that opinion. Unless I see another devices that answers the education equation as effectively and elequently as the iPad, I expect I will continue to recommend it and use it in school implementations and for myself.

It is actually the intersection of these two positives that has caused my current irritation. The new operating system rolled out on September 18, three weeks into the school year. My iPad schools have already configured and distributed their machines or are well on their way to doing so. Suddenly in the middle of this comes a new reality, causing upgrade and compatibility chaos. In the immediate aftermath of release, the OS did not work with Configurator, the system used to manage multiple student machines. There are compatibility issues with new apps, and security holes. Most of these issues are resolvable, but much more challenging to address while on the tight wire of a rollout.

This is coupled with the maddening announcement that the iLife suite (all the tools of basic computing) is now being offered free. I was excited to hear this, thinking we could save thousands of dollars in apps costs. However, this gift was followed with the condition that it only applied to machines activated after September 1, so most of the machines for schools this year don’t qualify. Even my late roll out machines are still waiting for this deal to be available, and we will probably have to roll out these machines with a generic office suite rather than the flagship products.

As I have stated elsewhere here, Apple learned its lesson from the 1980’s education initiatives. Apple deeply discounted Apple II machines for schools, hoping that school use would translate to a consumer market that never developed. With the iPad, Apple has gone in the opposite direction. The product is excellent and has good penetration into the consumer market, so schools are an added bonus. There are no real discounts (beyond a small general volume discount available to all) on any Apple products. Principals call me asking if I can get them a discount on iPad, and I have to tell them that I pay full price for my iPad, without any discounts on the device or peripherals.

I am not criticizing this strategy. It is a legitimate business strategy that clearly works. However, the release of a new operating system in the middle of the first month of the school year without real warning or direction for school tech administrators, and the release of free essential software immediately after schools have purchased, seems deaf-eared. It certainly is not a strategy to build loyalty should another strong option emerge.

I also am not criticizing the good people from Apple who work with our schools. I believe that they are doing their best to share information and solutions as soon as they are able. However, the corporate structure of Apple based on secrecy and restricting information, does not make it easy for them to serve schools. An alert to any off these issues could have helped schools in their purchasing and rollouts, but this would not have served the corporate structure.

Once again, I really like iOS7 on my machines. It’s very pretty, but I can’t ignore that ugliness that runs in the background.

As always, I invite your comments.

Image: ‘iOS 7‘ http://www.flickr.com/photos/75829045@N05/9862359965 Found onflickrcc.net

 

The Golden Path

One of the things that is most troubling for administrators and teachers who are working to implement new technology programs is a feeling of overwhelming inadequacy. There is always a nagging suspicion that there is a single right way to rollout equipment, or train users, or teach students, and (at least for me) this is coupled with absolute conviction that we're not doing it. Perhaps this is an offshoot of the core insecurity of educators, or it might be specific to a field so different from what we experienced or were trained.

I credit a lot of this insecurity to three messages that I see in ed-tech blogs and the general media. The first, which has been around for a long time, is the message that the success of a tech program relies completely on the amount and quality of training received by teachers. While I would be the last to disagree with helping users, as I have said in many other places, this “training-trap” has produced 15 years of professional development, remarkably few results, and a culture where any advancement can be thwarted by a hand in the back asking for more training.

The second message also has a history, but it has made a resurgence in the last year, primarily in response to the growth of 1:1 iPad implementations across the country. We a told the you can't just “throw” (remarkable how often this specific term is used with its connotation of randomness) iPads at students and expect the devices to have an impact on learning. This is an easy criticism to make, and a quick way to the upper hand of any argument, but like the first, it is based on false premises. First, there are few, if any, schools that roll out 1:1 without any planning or goals. Could they be more specific, comprehensive, or data driven? Perhaps. However, I find it incredibly insulting to people working hard in this area to simply dismiss their work. Second, and I admit this is controversial, I believe that implementation of 1:1 technology IS transformative in itself, as students begin to learn in an environment closer to that in which they will live and work. Are some uses better, more effective, perhaps, but perfection doesn't dull the shine if good.

Finally, the hyper-confidence of education bloggers can actually be a hindrance to progress. I know that we are excited about possibilities and sometimes we talk loudly and boldly to overcome the many voices of opposition or our own doubts. However, I think sometimes we suggest that we work in a world where all programs work, all students take to everything, and nothing bad happens. Perhaps if we shared more doubts and downfalls, the average user might take heart in sharing similar experiences and hear instead our conviction that we must carry on despite these challenges.

In there early 80’s there was a book by Sheldon Kopp called If You Meet the Buddha on the Road, Kill Him. I think this is a good attitude for this entire field. If anyone claims to have all the answers, that is the last person to whom we should listen. If someone claims that there is only one right way, that is the last person whom we should follow. If someone says (as I hope I do) that they are stumbling along with you…you have found a walking companion.

I wish you all the blessings of a new school year, and as always, I welcome you comments.

Image: 'Puzzled' http://www.flickr.com/photos/54027476@N07/4999919941 Found on flickrcc.net