Have you ever wanted to enrich a conversation with more credibility and dept of thought? Bringing this type of change is kind of like the difference from going to the beach, to going swimming on the surface of the water, to going snorkeling or scuba diving and seeing the beauty that is hidden beyond the eyes of the others. On a hot summer day many people trek to the beach with coolers of food and drinks, volleyballs, frisbees, and sunscreen. If you will, beach dwellers enjoy the view of and breeze from the water. Fewer people take the next step to actually go into the water and swim. The swimmers enjoy the cooling feeling of the water and feeling power of the water as waves crash into them. However, still fewer people actually get beneath the surface of the water, beyond the shining reflection of the sun, to see what is inside the water. This smaller number of people might snorkel or scuba dive to get beyond the surface, to see the life and the beauty that is within the water. A small group of people have formed an edbookclub to enrich the conversation on twitter by diving deeper much like the scuba diver who tries to see the life and beauty that is within the water.
What is edbookclub?
Basically here is how it works, Kelly or I send out a tweet asking if anyone has a book that they’d like to read as part of edbookclub. These suggestions are gathered and if there isn’t consensus, then an online poll is created to see what book we will read. Once the book is selected a schedule is posted at edbookclub.com that outlines when we will discuss specific chapters. Anyone can join and people who are interested just tweet that they want to read along and we put their twitter names on the list at edbookclub.com. Then as we read the book, each member of the book club tweets their thoughts, questions, comments, connections, and respond to the ideas of others with the tag: #edbookclub. Using this tag allows others to follow the conversation about the book, it kind of threads it all together.
Interaction with Grandpa happened in fields, over chess boards and with pointed fingers. At one point about 20 years ago, Grandpa decided that he could kill two birds with one stone. He wanted to have clean fields and spend some time with his grandchildren. So Grandpa would captain his well maintained Buick into the yard to pick my brother and I up, with the back seat full of Allaer grandchildren. When the Buick would stop at a field, with a cloud of dusk in it’s wake, the doors would open and the mess of us would stumble out of the car under the hot afternoon sun. Grandpa didn’t pull weeds in the morning with the discomfort of dewy soybean leaves. He also didn’t approve of using a standard issued garden hoe. Hoes only cut off weeds, they don’t get rid of the problem. The weeds were the public enemy number one, and we were the James Bonds of weed pullers. We were told to sneak up on the velvet leafs, sneak up on the lamb quarters then pull them out at the base of the plant and carry the soon to be dead stalk to the end of the row of soybeans to throw it out of the field. These actions would surely save another soybean life. But we learned. We learned that nightshade is the enemy, that garden hoes are for the lazy and to get a weed out you needed to get it’s root. We learned not to take the weeds of life lightly and they needed to be taken out at the root.
Queen check is a term that anyone who has played chess with Grandpa has heard. When playing chess the most valuable piece is the king. If you’re king is killed, game over or ‘checkmate’. When you are about to kill your opponent’s king, you must warn them by saying the word check. It is the only piece that you must provide warning before taking. The second most valuable piece is the queen, which is a powerful piece. When immersed in a game of chess with grandpa there is likely to be a flurry of activity, which knights, rooks, and pawns darting precisely across the board. It is also likely that Grandpa will have captured most of your pieces in the process. Yet before grandpa would capture your queen he would warn you by saying ‘Queen Check’. Then promptly after pronouncing that your powerful Queen was in trouble, he would win the game. We learned playing chess with grandpa. We learned to lose. He is a merciful man who has no mercy when playing the game of kings. We learned to be honourable, to be upfront with others. We learned to compete hard but always show respect to opponents.
And have you ever had Grandpa point at you and ask to you come over to talk to him? Have you ever sat across the table from him as he pointed to you? There would be a smirk in his eye and smile beginning to unfurl on his lips. When grandpa points he has a unique crook in his finger that the pointer (grandpa) uses to confuse the pointee (you) about who he is actually pointing at. And he smiles and laughs. We smile and we laugh. We learned. We learned to not take yourself too seriously. We learned that regardless of the imperfections that you have, it is important to have the grace to laugh at yourself
He instilled a strong work ethic in his children and grandchildren. He was an example of strong faith. Grandpa thank you for being a strong example. Thank you for teaching us life’s lessons. We learned to sneak up on life’s weeds. We learned to live honourably and with grace.
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One warm summer day, I rode shot gun while my grandfather, then in his mid sixties espoused wisdom to me, his 11 year old grandson. We were driving toward Wallaceburg, which is a small town at the heart of the Great Lakes in southwestern Ontario, Canada, with the windows open in his mint Buick. The wind flooded into the car and through our hair as we both surveyed the trees and buildings that emerged above the green canvas of maple, oak, and ash leaves. My grandfather said to me, “Ben, do you know what the tallest building is in Wallaceburg?” And before I could respond, he answered his own question, “it’s the catholic church.” Sure enough, we both spotted the steeple to the catholic church well above the trees. I remember seeing the steeple, and noticing that at this moment in the 1980s, it wasn’t the tallest anymore but that a larger structure had grown up. My grandfather wanted the tallest structure to be the church, and it had been, but it wasn’t anymore.
I was recalling this memory recently, and thinking of how the tallest structure in town may be a reflection of what a community values. Might the addition or removal of ‘tallest’ structures reflect changes in society? In Wallaceburg during the early 1900s the tallest structure in town was Our Lady of Help Catholic Church. This certainly reflected the importance of the church’s role within the community and its importance. I wonder what the schools were like in this time period, how did they reflect the values in this community with a tall steeple presiding over the trees.
As the 1900s progressed, industry came to Wallaceburg including the brass and glass factories. The tower of glass factory eventually rose up, in prominence, importance and was higher than the church. Economic expansion changed the shape of the skyline, how they perceived themselves, and their town. Education did not lead to these changes, instead it reflected these changes and supported them. A secondary school was build and started to develop workers for these factories, tool and die shops, and related industries. The steeple from the church was still tall, but was reminder to its past prominence. The tall structures from the factories were reflected in the machine shop classrooms, summer jobs, and future ambitions of the students.
Wallaceburg is no longer a small but mighty industrial power. The glass factory has left, its tall tower dismantled. The tool and die factories have been reduced in size and number. The brass factory, which spawned locally famous musical groups, has gone. However the school still has the machine shops, retired glass blowers sell pottery and these relics, like the tall steeple remind us of the import role each played in years past. However, now as I drive toward Wallaceburg, now with my own son riding beside me, I point out the towers. I point out the steeple of the Catholic church. I show him where the glass factory used to rise above the canopy of maple, oak, and ash leaves. However, neither of us can miss the new towers in town. Cell towers showing the new prominence of communication, data, and connection. We check on wikipedia for information about the glass factory, using data from the cell towers, and I wonder how schools will adapt to reflect the new values that these towers reflect in this community.
Each March there is a special time that captivates me. For a Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday I follow games from teams that I’ve never heard with players that I’ll never see again. There is something about the drama of a game. I’m not really into basketball, I prefer football, hockey, and baseball before basketball. However there is something that captivates me about this tournament.
What if a single elimination tournament came to professional learning? That is the idea behind the first ever educational Professional Learning Game (PLG) on Twitter. The person behind this is Rodd Lucier, you may know him as the Cleversheep, who also pioneered synchronous education professional chat on twitter with educhat well before the dozens or hundreds of current incarnations that live in twitter land today.
What is it?
The 31daygame is the first ever education Professional Learning Game. Where participants use twitter to “make a forced choice between the two competing ed’n themed videos. Which is the most compelling?” Over 31 days, the tournament will take place on twitter with the winner of each day moving on to the next round. (Here is the tournament bracket).
Why it matters:
First, it is time to stop taking ourselves so seriously. The game context is interesting, and may keep the attention of people, who like me, enjoy tournaments, sport, and gaming. Are we going to have to make a choice? Yes. Will that hurt feelings? I hope not. I can take myself too seriously, especially online. This game is a way to bring playfulness into professional learning and do it in a social context. Lets adapt a saying from my childhood which was, ‘the family that plays together stays together’. What if we developed the principal that “the professional network that plays together stays together”?
The second reason this matters is that it helps to uncover and expose us to more valuable content and ideas. Have you noticed that the internet is a huge place? There is too much to see and miss lots of this ‘stuff’? A professional learning game that forces us to choose between two items means that we need to consider both items. Ever tried to google search for ‘education videos’? I have, it is brutal. But if I play the 31 day game, I’ll be seeing 32 different piece of content (about something like education videos) that may be useful to me in my practice.
The professional learning game doesn’t just expose us to content, it helps find interesting content. Curation, which is often discussed by Jeff Jarvis, is something that the online education community needs. How do we cut through the clutter of google to find items of value? Must we rely on traditional educational curators, like publishers, researchers, and government organizations? In the information age, there is a greater need for curation. A professional learning game that harnesses the opinions of other educators may be a helpful curator and make online content more accessible to a wider audience of educators.
Finally, the most important thing about a professional learning game is that making a choice leads to reflection and professional understanding. The question, especially since the votes are in public, becomes what do I value and why? Am I willing to publicly commit to a choice, and what does that say about my professional identity? The criteria for making the choice is based on the purposefully ambiguous term: “compelling”. Since the criteria is not defined clearly externally, it is within each of us. As we vote, we uncover our own criteria that we value that is exposed when we make a choice.
So this March you will find me sitting on a couch with some popcorn kernels in the bottom of a bowl, and a laptop open beside me. I’ll be watching games involving 2 teams I’ve never seen before in the wee hours of the morning fueled by a half empty glass of Coke Zero and the adrenaline from the game. However, the laptop will be on the 31daygame. I’ll be watching education videos, making choices, reflecting, uncovering new learning and all while I’m playing a game.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about the impact of assessments that are based on criteria versus percentiles and norms. My thoughts about how all assessments don’t equally help students improve were kick started with smell of chlorine, beside the flutter boards at the local community pool.
The din of mothers with their babies and preschoolers splashing in the pool accent most Saturday mornings at the local pool. Mothers and tots are led through actions and an awkward singing of such classics as ‘The Wheels on the Bus’ and ‘Row Row Row Your Boat’. During these mornings you will find me sitting against a wall near the shallow end, with a towel on my lap, watching my four year old learning to swim.
There are several parents, each living vicariously through the 5 little guys kicking, jumping, and splashing in front of us. I know it is silly, but each time my son is asked to do a front glide or a back float with the teacher my attention builds and I mentally ‘will’ him to do well. Each kick and turn leads me to hope that he will have improved since the last lesson. The parents act like a support group. Red faces are evident when their child refuses to attempt something and each person has uttered the phrase, ‘it is weird, he loves the water when we are at free swim’. After we all look away for the requisite moment, we murmur ‘it’s OK’ and ‘it gets better’ to the parent. And when the teenage instructor handed my child a piece of paper that had water drops and smudges by the time it arrived on my lap, it only took a second to realize what it was. My son had just received his first report card, although this was his mid-term swimming report.
The mid-term report card had about 20 different items listed and each was rated as complete, needs improvement, or incomplete. I pretended not to care. I tried not to look at it, you know it isn’t that big of deal.
What if the report had stated that Liam, my son, was in the 60th percentile of swimming proficiency for children his age? How would I know how he could improve? How would he know how to improve? I’m not sure the bell curve would have helped Liam.
Instead the report focused on specific skills that needed to be improved. These were combined with what feedback the teacher gave to Liam during class to develop the criteria that will help him become a better swimmer. It could have been said that he has a few areas to improve. But he was told he needed to improve on his back float and back glide. This was combined with what I’d overheard to be: Liam on your back float and glide, you need your ears in the water, your chin up, and your chest up.
Guess what? The next week, for the first time this course when he tried the back float, his ears were in the water. The teacher then just asked him to put his chin up and chest up. Which he quickly remembered and did. As he splashed back to the side of the pool, his eyes searched for mine. He pointed to his ears while his teeth were exposed with a large grin as water dripped down his face.
I was reminded that when reporting student achievement to parents, ranking isn’t as hopeful or productive as criteria. With criteria we can improve, we can make a difference. Clear criteria as someone learns starts a conversation. A conversation that that person has internally as they attempt to apply their learning and is followed up with people around them.
Liam knew what he needed to do to improve in the moment. He wasn’t perfect, but he was improving by applying the criteria. Is that a key principal for learning? Understanding the criteria that will help us improve? If the teacher and the learner don’t know the criteria, how can we learn?
There is a guy I know, named Rodd. He had a skype chat with me this past summer and offered a number of interesting ideas:
So, what would happen if educators from across Canada who were doing compelling things in the 21st century all got together in one physical location? Not a chat room, a skype conference or a google doc, but actually face to face.
And what would happen if these educators not only met face to face, but also unplugged? The focus of the time would be on the interaction with leaders in front of them and not connected to the grid.
Wouldn’t it be interesting to take a train up to a natural treasure, Algonquin Park, within the Canadian wilderness where the event will take place? This summit’s location and activities would develop into a product and the product would reflect the participant’s interaction within this wilderness.
Are you interested in being part of this event?
- Do you attempt to use innovative practices in teaching and learning?
- Are you interested in deepening your relationships with other innovative and creative educators?
- Would you collaborate with teachers across Canada and become part of this larger group?
Invitations will be distributed in March/April 2011.
That guy I know, named Rodd and a few other compelling folks will be unplugging to tell stories, deepen relationships, and share experiences. The more I talk with these folks, the more interested I get.
So, what would happen if educators from across Canada who were doing compelling things in the 21st century all got together in one physical location?
What might happen? Something worth being a part of.