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
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I love this!
I’d imagine that the connection for that child at home would be a very welcome one – not only a chance to catch up on school topics but also to connect with the teacher and the students. Though not perfect, it seems a very valuable avenue to pursue when needed. Expanding to full class online learning – once in the far distant future, is here now. Thanks for the examples to illuminate this, Greg.