self...exposure

In the dark ages of the early 1990's, I attended the University of Hartford. Sometimes, I participated in "leadership conferences" (read: willing to wake up on a Saturday sans hangover). Here's a letter I wrote to my future self while "learning to lead":

Dear Future Ken (If you still go by the identifier 'Ken', as I presume life in the 21st Century will become wholly digitized. If so, please use the following greeting - Dear 10-0110-Kappa),

I know you're going to be disappointed when you receive this self-crafted note from your younger self. The use of hand-written notations will tear at your binary spirit. Looking upon lined paper will remind you of deforestation (remember trees?). But most disheartening is that when you read this, you will have dreadfully fulfilled your younger self's self-fulfilling prophecy:

You are a teacher.

Go ahead, look around the room you're currently sitting in (yep, I know you'll be seated, too). Eerie, isn't it? The pin-point acumen I have in mapping out the space between this letter's creation and your reading of it. And to think that folks say that young people "don't have a clue".

Now, putting aside your paltry salary (And I bet you'll be paying for health care as well. Even teacher's unions will prove powerless against a majority of taxpayers ponying up the bulk of their own coverage.), I'd like to throw you a compliment (cherish this, because you'll learn that they're few and far between in a teacher's career):

You're a good teacher.

Not Teacher of the Year good. Not likely to appear on Oprah good. But good. Quietly doing right for your students. Carefully taking more time to think about instruction and relationships than on handouts and assessment.

And don't listen to everyone who wants to wave the tattered flag of assessment in your face. There's not a number in the world that ever accurately conveyed the worth of a child. You and me, we're evidence to that.

You've been teaching now for 15 years. It's 2008. Do you live underground or above the Troposphere? Whatever you do, stay out of the Mesosphere (can you say, 'burn, baby, burn'?). What are some of the new inventions? What are students like? Don't bother trying to write me back, I'm just using this space to kill some time. The presenter tells us we're supposed to write for 20 minutes.

Dad has a portable phone. I imagine that they'll keep gaining ground. I mean, people love things that are portable. I have my Walkman with me right now. Odds are, your students will love music just as much as you did/do (Wow! It can be confusing writing to your future self.).

My friend Mike (you guys still friends?) has an Apple computer. Beats the crap out of my Toshiba Word Processor (graduation gift? My high school graduation gift?? Good grief, please tell me that you're still pissed off about this one!). Sometimes, I just sit at his desk and type and type and type and then I print everything. Nothing beats a dot-matrix printer.

I have a feeling that you'll have a computer. And I'm certain your school will have a bunch. I mean, we did have a computer class at Abington (remember making your name appear all over the screen?). Maybe they'll be in classrooms. Say goodbye to bookshelves.

Are you thinking, what's a 'book'? Haven't seen one in years. Are people reading anything? Or is everyone watching television? Have you been on The Real World? Or better yet, who hasn't?

I'm watching a lot of television these days, and I'm averaging 1.2 movies per week. You better be a good teacher, because you're already up against a massive army of mixed media. Maybe when you read this, classes will no longer be 47 minutes. Maybe they'll be 2 minutes at a time, 23 times a day. Jump cut. Fade in. Fade out. That's what the future of education is all about.

Finally, future self, I want to impart a couple things about teaching that have stuck with me. I think the current student in me has experienced enough instructional practices to make some informed recommendations.

I'm super-gluing the following to my conscious just for you:

1. Say 'hi' to every student in your classes...every day. Then, ask each student a question. Questions don't have to be about course content. Kids love to talk about themselves. Heck, I'm 22 and I love to talk about myself (oh, and write to myself...talk about ego). Ask 'em something like, what's your favorite hot food served cold?
   
2. Do more than teach. Don't 'honor thy contract'. Instead, 'honor thy students'. They need more than a teacher; they need a presence.
3. If you're going to narrow down your course to 'what's important', then tether yourself to 'theme', 'symbolism', and 'allegory'. Students bring plenty of these three from their own lives. Use your content to explore the myriad of experiences embedded in their Schemas.
   
4. Stay current. Already, I get made fun of for referencing The Dark Crystal, so imagine using that one on 21st Century adolescents. Can you say 'Gelfling meat'?
   
5. It's okay to make kids run hills, literally and figuratively. It's not a punishment; it's exercise. It's conditioning. It's life. Uphill. Up hills.
   

If you're anything like me, you'll figure all of this out for yourself long before you read this. If any of the aforementioned kernels is out-of-the-box new, then you've probably out-stayed your welcome. You're due for a change.

But I think that would be a shame. I can't see you doing anything else...except having children; lots and lots of children.

Just remember...college is expensive, and it's only going to get pricier.

Hugs and kisses,

Ken

momentarily 21 again

Talked briefly with my friend on Saturday about possibly going out to watch the Final Four basketball games.

Today, I had a quick IM exchange to let him know that we really didn't miss much.

me:

turns out those games were "less than exciting" anyhow.

d:

yep. and i had a pretty good fever

me:

if it makes u feel any better, I was up until 2 AM!

so it was just like a night out for me.

surrounded by ladies,

dim lights,

HD TVs (okay, one),

bottles full of drinks,
burping,

lots of undergarments,

moments of brief nudity,

me:

oh...and I went to bed by myself.

you run the place, smarty-pants

Congratulations, you're now in charge.

Of what?

Of this most majestic bastion of learning.

Did I just lose some vote or something?

What? Are you kidding me? This is a great place. I mean, look, there are brand new interactive white boards waiting to be installed in classrooms. How many schools would kill maim destroy beg to get their eager, educating hands on them?

Six? Seven?

Tons! Hundreds! Thousands! And you have all of these. So go, get a-runnin' and put these puppies in play.

I'm gonna need a screwdriver. Possibly a drill of some kind.

Whoa! Hold on there, Mr. Tool Belt. Don't you think you should train the would-be users before you install them?

I'm in charge, right?

Sure, you're in charge.

Then hang those boards up, pronto! Install then educate! 'I' before 'E', that's what they say, right?

You might anger some of your teachers. Those boards, quite literally, will eliminate their instructional space.

They'll just have to deal. Adapt. Assimilate.

Well, you run the place, smarty-pants (weeps softly, crafts letter of resignation).

what if you can't stop?

Damian lives up Route 611. Not far from me at all.

Damian blogs over at apace of change. His post about behavior is not far from me at all.

Damian curses a lot, but he's working on curbing that behavior.

According to Damian:

Generally speaking, human behavior can be boiled down to attempts to serve one of four major functions:

1. It feels good (self-stimulation)
2. It gets us out of having to do something difficult or unpleasant (task escape/avoidance)
3. It gets (or keeps) us attention (um… pretty self-explanatory, I think)
4. It reduces pain or stress (yeah, this one too)

I don't disagree, but as I commented on his post:

What if you’re a compulsive hair puller? You suffer from Trichotillomania? What then?

Most likely, it satisfies #1, arises b/c of #s 4 & 2, and gets the wrong kind of attention from #3.

But what if you do the behavior b/c of some event 14 years ago? What if you still haven’t found a way to address that event?

Isn’t it possible that cursing could be a better alternative?

Because what if you began noticing your 1 1/2 year old twirling his hair? What if you noticed your 1 1/2 year old pulling threads from blankets and coats and eating them?

Would you curse your way through this one?

Or would you cry and feel like you’ve already screwed up your kid?

'ownership' is a literal term

Do your students take ownership over content? Can they problem solve?

Here's the best lesson idea I've seen in quite some time.

Talk about problem-solving!

Talk about integrating technology in meaningful ways!

Talk about collaboration and social-networking!

Talk about:

what can happen when a tech-savvy victim gets tired of waiting for help!

This is the story of Jesse McPherson:

burglars...ripped McPherson's flat-screen TV off the wall and nabbed his Xbox 360 and Apple PowerBook.

Jesse McPherson takes ownership over his content:

...McPherson began his own sleuthing. He did a Google search of neighborhood pawn shops, visited the closest one and learned that someone had come in right after the burglary, attempting to sell McPherson's computer.

Jesse receives some corporate love:

Comcast gave McPherson a nex Xbox. He accessed its internet connection. A man purporting himself to be the thief demanded that McPherson buy his own Xbox back.

Jesse works to solve his problem.

McPherson had reached out to police with what clues he could gather. He...obtained a digital photo of the guy with his laptop from the pawn shop's surveillance system...

...he posted his tale of woe, along with the digital photo and one of the Xbox voice messages, on a blog post that he submitted to www.digg.com...

The power of social-networking takes over:

Within hours, the post sparked reaction from people around the world, who formed their own investigatory team to solve McPherson's case.

Using the Xbox profile of the person who had contacted McPherson...they then used an array of technologies to uncover much more info about the guy.

Photobucket. YouTube.

...McPherson's supporters flooded the kid's online accounts...demanding the return of McPherson's stuff.

One avenger, from England, even posted a recording on YouTube of a phone call he had with the kid's furious mom...

...a reporter from New Zealand, gave McPherson's story major headline treatment.

In the end, McPherson and his merry mob prompted the return of his belongings (except the TV).

The story has a fairytale ending for Jesse, and a rock-solid example of collaboration in action for anyone who loves phrases like 'collaboration in action' and 'ownership over content'.

But here's the point:

Trying to increase student ownership over content is an admirable, albeit cute endeavor, but at the end of the day, the student better have a receipt.

green(ville) with a smile

Thought I'd lend a hand and help a friend out:




Soulless Creatures,

Most likely, this letter finds you deep beneath the surface of the Earth, feasting on the rotting corpses of once fresh, amiable, and enthusiastic educators. You are a well-fed lot, and you should be proud of your efforts as they pertain to crushing the life-force from your hired help entrees. But this letter is neither a congratulatory tome or a light appetizer before another trip to the surface for food.

Don't bother resurfacing. My already withered and wizened body and spirit have suffered under your Morlock-ian administrative practices, and if you come looking for me, I'll be long gone. So what you're holding, what you're drooling on, is my official letter of resignation.

I could list, in any order you wish, the myriad of grievances, edicts, and choke-holds you brought upon me over the years, but I'm tired. And your literacy is questionable as most of your 'professional' correspondences border on email garble and surreptitious 'observations' from darkened corners of the hallway.

Education used to be my passion, my calling, my purpose, but you and your cabal transformed that word into my nightmare, my depression, and my helplessness.

But I will give you credit. You deftly isolated your staff, gussied them up with the veil of job security, and then chopped, chiseled, and quartered them one at a time until each succumbed or fled.

Consider my exodus the latter of the two results, but I flee from the scene with a greater sense of dignity and self-worth than you ever attempted to instill in your staff. My initial trepidation about an uncertain future will most assuredly wash away clean as the minutes away from your feeding ground grow greater and greater.

My altruistic (look it up, and no, it's not a viable food source) nature mourns for the others that stay behind, that lack the needed courage and fortitude to do as I am doing today. Should their minds feel the inexorable feeling of doom that pervades every molecule of your institution, then I'm hopeful that they will choose the course I take today.

And then they'll say, "Freedom is nothing but a chance to be better. " - Albert Camus

Sincerely,

Taylor the Teacher

cart in front of horse, now what?

Interactive white boards now hang prominently in every classroom at my school. For some, they are a welcome addition. For others, they are a curious, slightly alienating device. And for one teacher, his board is, full sarcasm included, the tool that will, after 15 years, make him a good teacher.

Here's a multiple choice quiz. One question. Three choices, and each, like a Choose Your Own Adventure book, could impact your future.

You have just finished installing interactive white boards. You email those teachers who, upon returning from Spring Break, will have the boards in their rooms. You ask for a time to teach them how to use the board. One response does not give a date and time. This email is a nugget of sarcasm, attacking the technology as a substitute for quality teaching by stating that 'finally, I'll become a good teacher'.

What's your next move?

A) Attract more bees with honey than vinegar. Send a soothing email full of complimentary adjectives about this teacher (dedicated, standards-based, well-dressed). Affirm his underlying concerns. Say something like, "good teachers don't need any tools, just children to teach". Avoid a formal meeting date. Instead, conduct casual drop-ins. Bring sugar-free cookies.

B) Meet the teacher in his wheel-house - the Scantron machine. Ask for a clarification to the phrase, 'now I'll be a good teacher'. Say something like, "Funny, I always thought of myself as a good teacher long before any technology entered the classroom." Continue talking. "Gosh, it's funny how you use the computer in your class everyday. I wonder how you reacted when you got one of those. Or that overhead projector, you must've resisted that for quite some time. Almost a shame that you use it everyday." Finish with, "Maybe one day you'll teach me how to use the Scantron." Take your sugar-free cookies back.

C) Do nothing. No email. No confrontational meeting by the Scantron. Leave this teacher alone. Allow him to turn his students' seats ninety degrees to the other board. Mourn over his student's loss of equity and the selfishness of a omni-phobic teacher. Console yourself by eating sugar-laced cookies.