“That book will scare the hell out of you.”

Last night, my husband and I had our friend Joseph over to our house for dinner. I don’t remember how it came up, but I was talking to Joe about Google Docs.

He’d never heard of it, so I pulled up my Google account and showed him some of the collaborative documents we’ve worked on in my AP Government class.

Then, I had a flash of genius. I can’t believe I haven’t showed Joe (or my husband!) before. I did a quick search and found what I was looking for: the A Vision of Students Today video by Professor Michael Wesch and his Digital Ethnography class at Kansas State University.

If I could only ever take one more college class, this class would be it.

Anyway, both the boys were impressed.

Over the weekend, my husband went out and bought himself a copy of Thomas L. Friedman’s book, The World Is Flat. A man in line before him at the bookstore said,

“That book will scare the hell out of you.”

My husband laughed – and bought the book. I’m so proud!

Check out this podcast!

Last week, I referenced a post by Wesley Fryer that contained his notes from a keynote session in San Antonio.  I was mesmerized by the content and didn’t even mind that it was a little bit choppy – it was one fantastic statement after another and it seemed to me that the speaker had so many great things to say that at times, Mr. Fryer just couldn’t keep up.  What a delightful predicament!  Thankfully, Mr. Fryer recorded the session and has now posted it as a podcast on his blog.  I can’t wait to hear it!

I started writing a response…

…to a comment I received about one of my posts yesterday, and it turned into so much information that I decided it would be more appropriate to just create a new post and provide my responses to some of the comments made.  I hope I manage to explain my views in a way that doesn’t offend, because that’s not my intent.  Anyway, enjoy!

The fact is that what you love is not always going to correspond with what they love.

Please know that I do understand that students will not always enjoy the things that I do.  In fact, I would say 80% of the things that I find enjoyable, my students roll their eyes at.  Believe me, I get it! 🙂

What if they love the French Revolution?

Then by all means, they should learn about it!  I am happy to provide them with all the resources they need.  (But please also allow me to extend a challenge: Show me a student who loves the French Revolution….)

You may not feel studying history is relevant…

If I felt that way, I would not have taken so many college history courses, nor would I actually be teaching it.  My problem is this: while history is very relevant to me, I am not sure that all of it is relevant to my students.  I am planning to write a post (or, more likely, link to a colleague’s) about the new television show, Are You Smarter Than A 5th Grader.  I figure, if a man who got his degree in history doesn’t know random historical facts, it’s probably because he isn’t using them day-to-day like I am.  To me, not using them implies not needing to know them.  As such, these facts are essentially trivia.  Fifth graders know them because they’re learning them in elementary school; but how many of those facts will they still know once they’ve graduated from college?  Instead of cramming trivia into my students’ heads, I’d rather them learn how to find the information they need in a timely manner, as well as how to correctly gauge the validity of sources.  I believe that students will be better prepared for the workforce they’re going to enter if they know how to do these things than if they are able to spout off hundreds of pieces of information with no real day-to-day application to their careers.  I’m not saying it’s bad to know about the French Revolution; I am simply asking, “How many of us use that information on a day-to-day basis?”  If we don’t use it regularly, then perhaps we should reconsider it the next time we sit down to write curriculum.

…but it’s one of my favorite subjects and inspires me to continuing learning on a daily basis.

Me too.  But the thing I have to remember is that just because it inspires me to continue learning doesn’t mean the same is true of my students – as was also pointed out in the original response to my post (see the first comment above).  Some of them get that feeling from science.  Some of them get it from math.  At my school, most of them get it from their specialty course – we require all of our students to focus on a specific career “specialty” area; these include medical/dental, legal, hospitality/entrepreneurship, education, visual arts, and advanced technology.  My point is that whatever it is that inspires a student to learn, that’s what they should be learning about.  With project-based lessons (as teachers in my school try to do), a student is allowed to go in-depth with whatever interests them and then present that information to the entire class.

I want teachers to show my kids the spectrum so they can find out what motivates them.

I would like to see a shift away from teachers being the source of all knowledge to student-directed learning, where the student is in charge of what they learn and how they learn it.  I have some students who are really into military history.  Others would rather focus on the social implications of war.  By having each student study the topic they’re interested in, every student stays engaged.  Having students present their findings to the class at the conclusion of a unit gives each student the opportunity to showcase his or her expertise in a particular area AND has the added effect of exposing the rest of the class to viewpoints they may not have previously considered.  With new viewpoints come new interests and, it follows, new sources of inspiration for continued learning.  When students are interested, they learn.  Far too many of our students today aren’t even interested because the information we’re forcing them to take in doesn’t apply to them.

If you are approaching history as just a set of facts…

The thing is, there’s a Big, Bad Test standing between my students and their futures.  I have a state that requires me to do more with less every year, and an education system that has never met an educational standard it didn’t like.  The school year is staying the same length, but the amount of history I have to get through increases by one year…well, every year, so now I have less time to spend on any one topic.  I’m working with a student population that is about 80% minority, a large majority of whom don’t speak English at home.  Throw in the fact that more than 70% live below the poverty line, and you get this: many, many, many students who just want to get out of high school so that they can get a job – any job – and help take care of their families.  Our school’s goal is to provide them with training so that they can get a job in their specialty area, but for financial reasons, it doesn’t always work out that way.  They don’t necessarily have the luxury of waiting around for the “perfect job.”  There are bills to pay.  And for those reasons, for many of my students, yes – history is just a set of facts.  A set of facts, most of which they’ll likely never use in their real lives, but that they’ll be tested on – and if they don’t know their trivia, they don’t get to graduate.

And now we get to move on to the legislative answer to our math/science “problem”: four mandatory years of math and four mandatory years of science in high school.  More information, less time, higher stakes.  Is it really the best answer?  At some point, the dam is going to break.

And you can bet I won’t be standing there with my fingers plugging the holes, trying to prevent it.

Teach it because you have to, not because it matters.

I’ve had a couple of comments on a post I wrote about having to teach things that I don’t enjoy (namely, the French Revolution).  Both of them were upbeat, “it’s okay” sorts of comments – and those are definitely nice.  But truth be told, while they were empathizing and kind, the voiceover in my head when I read the comments translated them as, “Suck it up, be a big girl, and teach it because we all have to.  Life’s not fair.  Yada yada yada.”

Please understand that I don’t mean any offense to the commenters!  But the thought I have rolling around in my head right now (like, right now) is this: Instead of me teaching the things I hate, shouldn’t students be learning the things they love?

Because I do believe there’s a difference.

I think that, as a student in the United States today, understanding what democracy is and what it means for everyday life in the 21st Century is much more relevant and engaging than talking about the National Assembly and the Bastille.  Great.  Some stuff happened 200 years ago.  So what?  What does it mean for me now?  Tomorrow?  Next week?  When I’m in college/45 years old/retired – assuming I get to retire?

It’s nice to know historical facts.  But is it necessary anymore?  David Warlick did a presentation about Millennials at TCEA (podcast available here) and says:

For the first time in history, our job as educators is to prepare our students for a future that we cannot clearly describe.

I figure, if I can’t describe it, then that must mean it’s going to look like something I haven’t seen before, something I don’t even have words for.  If it’s going to look nothing like anything we’ve ever had, then why are we still conducting school the same way we always have?  Why are we still teaching the same things?

Why are we so focused on the past?

I Heart Unfair, High-Stakes, Standardized Tests

Yeah, not so much.

TAKS was a brutal beating up one side and down the other.  My students tried to tell me they had it worse than I did, since they had to take a test all day long.  I told them that my job was far worse: I had to stare at them while they did it.  At least they got to use their brains.

Remember this commercial?

Well, I’d like to reshoot it as a public service announcement for our school news show, only I’d say, “This is your brain on TAKS.”

(Wow – I’m bitter this week!)

Which brings me to this question:
Why does a chicken coop have two doors?
Answer: If it had four doors, it would be a chicken sedan.

Drowning on Dry Land

Okay, so I admit that I borrowed the title of this post from the episode of Grey’s Anatomy that aired last night. It describes my current state of mind pretty accurately!

I have had a lot swimming around in my brain for the last couple of days – so much that I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep last night.

I added some new blog feeds to my netvibes account and along the way, saw a lot about “school 2.0” – which I won’t even attempt to define because it has, thus far, refused to be defined in concrete terms.

In all my reading, several things stood out. I loved this quote from Wesley Fryer’s blog:

How many more wealthy families will abandon public education and opt for home-schooling or private schooling before our leaders get the message? Are the children and grandchildren of the authors of this report going to U.S. public schools now? Are they enjoying the fear, the worksheets, the countless “benchmark” tests, and the general lack of ENGAGEMENT, fun, and authentic learning which tends to predominate in many classrooms? I doubt it.

In the same post, Mr. Fryer articulated what I’ve been unable to when he said:

It’s not time to improve NCLB. It’s time to repeal it and start reinventing the U.S. public education system based on the realities of the 21st century and the information economy, rather than the 19th century and the industrial revolution.

On my drive home Wednesday afternoon (post-laptop trauma), I called my dad. My husband was at work – at a new(ish) job – and therefore unavailable. I tried my mom – she’s an administrator in the same district where I work – but she didn’t answer. So my poor father had to listen to me sob about high-stakes testing and the general “beat down-ness” of my students. I’d read this post by Will Richardson. (My friend Angela wrote about the same article he did; you can read her thoughts here.) I was frustrated that the general consensus around these parts seems to be that we need to restrict our students’ access to social networking sites by using web filtering programs and the like. We need to kill access to web browsers other than Internet Explorer because other browsers make it easier for students to access content that violates the district Acceptable Use Policy via proxy servers.

Here’s my problem. Students get around our network security anyway. Even if we take away their access to these programs/websites, they’ll find a way to get to them. Why are we wasting time and money restricting them when we should be teaching them how to use these tools responsibly? Wouldn’t that contribute to a more positive environment in our schools? Wouldn’t that help us teach critical thinking and problem solving skills more effectively than the current system, which is basically to say, “No! Bad student! No more internet for you!”? Is that really a productive use of our time? We’re fighting a losing battle, so I propose – as many others have – that we change our strategy. Why can’t we work with our students rather than against them? We keep telling them we’re on their team, don’t we?

Like Mr. Richardson said in his post, I’m not expecting 2007 to be “The Year” when everything changes. I understand that in the big scheme of things, it’s really up to the federal government to recognize this grandiose, albeit noble, notion of not leaving children behind might not be working. But I also believe (because I’m young and naive, remember?) that the system still works. It is still the job of my government to listen to what I have to say and take my opinions into consideration.

I’m just thrilled to finally be a part of the conversation.

(And on a side note, the tech guys were able to save ALL of my files!!!)

Disaster!

On my way to 4th period today, my laptop decided it had had enough of its carrying bag.  It proceeded to make a flying leap onto the floor in the hallway.

Disaster.

At first, it seemed like everything was okay.  But an hour later, when I tried to respond to a coworker’s yackpack, I realized my microphone wasn’t working.  When this happened last week, one of the guys from the tech office came upstairs, messed with a few settings, and restarted my computer.  He got it to work and then commented, “Huh.  It just needed a restart.”  So today, when the microphone wasn’t working, I thought, “I’ll just reboot it like last week!”

Alas, it was to reboot no more.  Everything was fine until it asked me if I wanted to start normally or in safe mode.  It didn’t matter which option I tried, I ended up with a flash of blue screen (the ultimate “kiss of death” when you’re dealing with computers) followed by a reboot.  I watched in horror as this cycle repeated itself a number of times before I finally let it sink in that

1) no matter how many times it tries, it’s not going to reboot, and
2) all documents/files/etc. that weren’t backed up are, in all likelihood, lost forever.

Which brings me to my next point: I hate where I am in world history.

I cannot for the life of me figure out why any student ever needs to know anything about the French Revolution except maybe for the part about democracy.  Anything else they can Google.  When I’m really honest with myself, I admit that, to this day, I couldn’t tell you anything about the French Revolution, Napoleon, or the Bastille.  I’ve been out of high school nearly ten years, and I haven’t used any of that information in my real life.  And if I do need to know it – say for the day Alex Trebek calls and wants me on Jeopardy! – I’ll Google it.  The only reason I “need” to know this stuff is that it’s my job to “teach” it to students.

Perhaps you’re starting to wonder where the aforementioned point is.  Look no further than this: I hate this part of the curriculum.  If I hate it, what must my students think?  Beyond that, the fact that I hate it doesn’t exactly inspire me to spend a lot of time on it, nor does it inspire a ton of creativity with regard to lesson plans.  And without my laptop, my chances of coming up with something interesting to do have just narrowed to nearly zero.  Looks like we’ll be on paper tomorrow – what a drag!

The good news is I should have a new hard drive and everything should be fine by tomorrow afternoon.  The bad news is I haven’t backed up anything that I haven’t done yet – I only made copies of the things we’ve already moved past.  So if my new best tech friend can’t save anything, I’m stuck reinventing the wheel for the rest of the year.

Fingers crossed, everyone….