Will

Few quotes that I have found sum up the complexities, challenges and potentials of this new information landscape better than this one from Brian Solis. I’m thinking this would be a great starting point for discussions around how to best help our students navigate these spaces effectively:

Access to information and people is intoxicating. Creating an online portrait of who we are or who we want others to see is equality alluring. But without direction, governance, and discipline, we are at risk of giving ourselves to the very networks we value rather than managing the platforms to our advantage. Our participation must be inspired by purpose and parameters. No, we are not obligated to connect with everyone who connects with us. We are obligated to maintain balance in who we are, what we value, and equally the value we invest in the communities in which we participate.

(From the “In Search of Bold Schools Dept.”)

One of the points I’ve been trying to make to school leaders and others (with mixed success, I think) is that moving toward more student-centered, inquiry-based, connected classrooms and “passing the test” are not mutually exclusive. That if we’re focused on developing learners instead of making kids “learned,” the test scores will take care of themselves. (Note: I can make this case anecdotally, but if anyone has any research that will convince the hard core skeptics, please share.) No question, given the current realities of testing and performance evaluation and everything else, public schools can’t simply ignore the test. But, unfortunately, schools that are willing to forego the test prep and keep the focus on learning as I’ve defined here are hard to find.

That is the approach at Downingtown (Pa) STEM Academy, however, under the guidance of principal George Fiore (@georgefiore) who was nice enough to show me around for a few hours yesterday. Now there are lots of caveats here: it’s a 1-1, IB,  magnet school in its first year with 400 sophomores and freshman who are still a year away from taking “the test,” which makes it a tough school to use as a model for change in existing, traditional schools. But it’s a great model for what can be, and there are mindsets at play here that any school can learn from.

And “mindset” is the operative word. As George went through the process of creating the school in 2010-11 and then opening it in September, he was guided by the book Mindset: The New Psychology of Success by Carol Dweck. At this school, learning is about effort and habits of mind, about having a “growth mindset” that propels not just students but teachers, parents and community members to a higher plane in their thinking and their practice. And, frames a different lens when thinking about “the test.”

“The PSSA is a minimum competency test,” George says. “What we need is the courage to say ‘if this is a minimum competency test, why aren’t we aiming higher and jumping over it?’ Right now, most schools are in it not to lose. That’s not a healthy learning attitude.”

Like Lisa Brady, George has invested a lot of time with parent groups educating them and giving them a voice in what happens at the school. (Parents were partners in the design of the academy.) He stresses that grades are not important, that 15 is a better time for their kids to struggle than 25, and that effort = intelligence. “High IQ scores do not correlate to success,” George says. “But a willingness to work hard and to develop the right habits of mind do. That’s our focus.” Those habits are effort, respect, engagement, responsibility and compassionate participation.

Learning is based around inquiry and a lot of writing. Students work in collaborative teams to solve real problems guided by teachers who push them to think deeply and ask developing questions. Almost all assignments and assessments involve writing. But while it may be a STEM school, art and music and fitness are all valued as well. (I listened to one student record an original song while another student played the music and three others worked the sound board. Here’s a pic.)

Technology was everywhere, but most of it came from over a quarter million dollars in donations that George was able to solicit from local businesses in the last year. 

“A lot of my time is spent doing outreach and involving local industry and business in the conversation,” he says. “It’s amazing the extent to which they are willing to help us with equipment and facilities purchases.” (He’s also working with the business communtiy to put together 200 internships for all of his juniors next year.) That makes for a rich, constructivist learning environment where students are creating and prototyping and performing on many different levels using a host of different technologies. The independent engagement on the part of students was palpable, and it was built on high level of trust and respect between the adults and the kids. 

There’s much more here, obviously. But the big news is that George is leaving the school next week after just one year to take a principalship and a high school nearer to his home which is an hour away from Downingtown. He intends to take much of what he’s learned in creating a school to the job of now changing a traditional school, a challenge that will bear watching. He’s immediate goals are to: 1) Move his administrative team to being instructional leaders instead of disciplinarians, 2) Change the library into a “Learning Commons” which will serve as a digital hub for the school (no paper books) as well as the place where community members and students and teachers gather for weekly “lunch and learns” every Friday, and 3) create parent and community advisory boards to generate conversations about learning and change. In three years he hopes to have moved the school to an inquiry based environment in at least science and math where students can bring their own devices. And he hopes to have made deep inroads into the changing the culture of learning. 

“We need to innovate, and the key factor in my current position and my new position is the support at high levels for innovation,” George says. “We have to cultivate those types of leaders in schools right now.”

My takeaways? 

1. New school or old, the learning cultures we construct in schools do not have to be predicated on the narrow definitions of “achievement” that the current testing regime relies on. Cultures built on inquiry and creation and student directed personal learning will serve our students more effectively in the long run.

2. We need to educate parents as to the value of this type of learning, and we need to engage in conversations with them about what expectations are meaningful and relevant and what expectations may be worth retiring.

3. There are avenues for any school to use to fund initiatives around learning with technology.

Thoughts? Questions?

I’ve long said that few people have inspired and motivated me more than Lawrence Lessig, author, law professor, scholar, father, advocate, and speaker. I’ve had the honor of seeing Lessig present a number of times, and I’ve had some brief conversations with him that have left me motivated and have pushed in my thinking. When I first started speaking, I blatantly ripped off his presentation style even though I never came close to doing it justice. He’s had a huge influence in my thinking about the world.

So when John Pederson sent me a link to this audio snip from a recent presentation that John asked Lessig to make at the WiscNet conference, I dove in. He’s answering a question  about the huge challenge that lies ahead in fixing our dysfunctional government and eliminating money from politics. And now that I’ve listened to it a half a dozen times, I feel changed. Take a listen:

I know that Lessig isn’t talking about education when he discusses this feeling of “hopelessness.”  But there are times when I (and I know many others) feel that sense of hopelessness when it comes to fighting the money and political power that is pushing the education reform conversation in this country right now. I sometimes look at that mountain of dysfunction and wonder “why bother? There’s nothing we can do. There’s no way we win this fight.”

But there is this: I love schools. We love schools. We love schools because they are places where children and adults come together to make sense of the world, to develop together the dispositions and perspectives that will carry them throughout their lives. We love schools because they are places of play and of beauty, of social connections and citizenship. We love schools because they are at times filled with magic that only happens when we share a common desire to create and learn and contribute. And we love schools because of the potential every child and every teacher brings with them to the interaction.

You know where this is going. What I hear Lessig saying is this:

If we love schools, right now, we have to fight for schools.

And whether we like it or not, this is what we are in: a fight for our schools. Like Lessig, I’m convinced that we’re making public policy around education that is driven by corporate profits, not the best interests of kids. I’ve written about that here and here and here and lots of other places. But if you don’t believe me, read Alfie Kohn. Read Yong Zhao. Read Gary Stager. Read Diane Ravitch and Deborah Meier. You need only listen to the first few minutes of Jeb Bush to understand that whether we like it or not, we are in this moment when the future of our schools is being decided and we all have a part to play. You might call that hyperbolic, but I don’t think I’m overstating it.  

But Lessig provides some powerful context, doesn’t he?

“Love means in the face of absolute improbability, you don’t care about the improbability, you do what it takes even knowing there is nothing you can do. You act as strongly as you possibly can…It might be impossible. It might be we’re past the stage when we as a people can rally together to do anything about this. It’s irrelevant. It doesn’t matter. We still as a people have absolutely every single purpose and obligation to do what we can to do about this. And that starts in this very tenuous, obscure way which is just getting more of us to understand the problem. And once more of us understand that problem, then at least we have an army that recognizes what they have to fight against, whether we can win or not.”

So let’s say it: We love schools. And we have an obligation to fight, to educate, to advocate in whatever way we can to make sure more people fully understand the problem that corporate driven, narrowly framed, assessment driven “reform” is not what is in the best interest of our children or our society. And it doesn’t matter that we sometimes feel hopelessness in the moment. We can’t change it with inaction and acceptance. That’s just not a valid choice. 

A couple of weeks ago, George Siemens published a lengthy post on his experiences at the Education Innovation summit, the conference that produced the Jeb Bush talk that I posted earlier. As usual, George is thoughtful in his reflections, though he does admit to a good deal of unsettledness by the conversation. The post is definitely worth the read.

But what struck me was a comment by Lisa Lane who puts the current moment in great context. It’s a long snip, but I hope you’ll take the time to read it.  

Whenever a society goes through an anti-intellectual phase, it attacks schools of some kind (seminaries, colleges, elementary schools). Usually they are attacked for not producing enough of certain types of people (ie US universities after Sputnik wanting more science majors) or too many of other types (medieval clerics), or for being either too elitist (only rich people get in) or too inclusive (too many PhDs), or (as now) for producing “poorly performing” students. All of these viewpoints consider the education system like a factory, producing a product that society wants. So it shouldn’t be surprising that teachers and students are not the focus here – they are the obstacles to creating the quality product. Besides, after over a century of public education, surely they had their chance.

If corporations can promise a better product (which is, of course, what they do best), people will buy it in hopes of realizing their view of what society should be. So yes, we should be extremely concerned if corporate goals determine the vocabulary, intensity and focus of the conversation about education. It suggests that citizens wish to abbrogate responsibility for discussing and reviewing education’s role in the culture as a whole, a conversation that should be taking place among educators, politicians, and ordinary people (almost all of whom have been to school at one time or another). But when the conversation focuses on test scores, “student success” (currently the buzz phrase at my institution), and the valued role of corporations in developing packages and “solutions” (entreprenuerial or traditional), we know we are moving further from the discussion that needs to be happening. This is why it is so dangerous, why subjects like creativity and complexity are sidelined or buried, despite all the evidence that they should be the heart of the discussion.  

Education doesn’t need entrepreneurs and corporations, products or services — it needs a citizenry willing to engage in creating a more suitable vision of its role. Leave it to the corporations and we will get, quite rightly, what we have paid for. [Emphasis mine.]

I can’t help wonder to what extent the abrogation of responsibility of parents and community members to have meaningful, serious conversations around education is a direct result of them being products of the system itself. In fact, at the moment, I spend a lot of time wondering if our obsession with tests and competition is a direct cause of our lack of willingness to engage in civil, nuanced debates and discussions on the topics that are most pressing (the economy, environmental issues, poverty, etc.) both on the local and national level. 

And if you want to get a sense of how pressing this issue is, read Indiana Senator Dick Lugar’s concession statement after losing his primary bid for re-election on Tuesday. It is, I think, a coherent commentary on the state of affairs in our country right now.

Unfortunately, we have an increasing number of legislators in both parties who have adopted an unrelenting partisan viewpoint. This shows up in countless vote studies that find diminishing intersections between Democrat and Republican positions. Partisans at both ends of the political spectrum are dominating the political debate in our country…They have worked to make it as difficult as possible for a legislator of either party to hold independent views or engage in constructive compromise. If that attitude prevails in American politics, our government will remain mired in the dysfunction we have witnessed during the last several years. …Ideology cannot be a substitute for a determination to think for yourself, for a willingness to study an issue objectively, and for the fortitude to sometimes disagree with your party or even your constituents….I don’t remember a time when so many topics have become politically unmentionable in one party or the other. Republicans cannot admit to any nuance in policy on climate change. Republican members are now expected to take pledges against any tax increases. For two consecutive Presidential nomination cycles, GOP candidates competed with one another to express the most strident anti-immigration view, even at the risk of alienating a huge voting bloc. Similarly, most Democrats are constrained when talking about such issues as entitlement cuts, tort reform, and trade agreements. Our political system is losing its ability to even explore alternatives. [Emphasis mine.]

And there is another question that begs asking, one that Gary Stager and others have been pushing for quite some time: To what extent has the Web and social media played a role in this? Gary sent me a link to this HuffPo column by Howard Fineman which explores this angle as well:

Like an engine without oil or a knee without cartilage, we are in danger of seizing up. We are losing many of our lesser but essential sources of authority, credit, guidance, service and judgment. Face-to-face dealings, accidental acquaintances, the happenstances of geography and commerce are being replaced by a net-based cacophony of political flash mobs, stovepiped thinking and mail-order trade for virtually every product and service.

A partial list of who is under pressure: families with time to be a family, independent-minded elected representatives, small farmers not beholden to Monsanto or Cargill, county chairmen, “big tent” politics, independent business and sales agents, weekly newspapers, local radio and TV stations, teachers with freedom to teach, principals with latitude to run their schools, local religious leaders respected for their character and judgment.

I don’t disagree that the Web could use more civil, intellectual debate, that in many ways it distracts us from more important parts of our lives, and that on some level, our reliance on it for connection and communication and creation is potentially problematic. I also know that, by and large, schools have not responded to these new challenges in meaningful ways that would help students and educators make better use of the best affordances of the Web. Our fear of these online networked spaces have had a huge negative impact on our scattered attempts to help kids become literate, thoughtful, serious contributors of ideas and solutions to the major topics of the day.

But I still come back to this: the Web isn’t going away. It will be a part of my kids’ lives, and much of their success will depend on their ability to use it well, to make sense of their worlds through it, and to contribute to making this a better place for all of us. It’s time for all of us to “engage in creating a more suitable vision” of education’s role, or we risk the perpetuation of a society that is polarized, divisive and unable to solve any of the problems that face us. 

I had a chance to facilitate/participate in a fascinating 90-minute conversation with about 15 parents in the Dobbs Ferry, NY school district yesterday that has left me feeling a bit more optimistic about what’s ahead than I have been in a while. Last month, I blogged about Dobbs Ferry Superintendent Lisa Brady (who is also a good friend), and I spent the day in her district talking to administrators and teachers. But the highlight was the chance to hear the hopes, fears, and frustrations of the parents, many of whom took part in the book study I wrote about before and who are a part of the district’s PTSA group. 

A couple of frames before I get into the details. First, these are highly motivated parents who in all honesty did not represent the entire demographic of the district. To their credit, however, they acknowledged and, at times, struggled with the lack of diversity at the table. And second, the day was specifically set up to give me a chance to pick their brains about the change process. I was really interested to hear what their pressing concerns and questions were and what we could learn from the experience that other schools might take from.

The short overview: this is a really hard conversation for parents, specifically because it requires them to rethink much of what they see as important in schools. Right now, test scores are seen as a hugely important factor in maintaining property values and in tracking student achievement. But these parents are struggling mightily with the test, and they are passionate in their opposition to the direction the testing conversation has taken. And it’s affecting their kids. It’s not just that their children are worried about the scores they might get on the test. Now, their kids are worrying that their teachers will be hurt if they don’t score well on the test. My sense is that most of these parents are quickly tiring of the frequency and impact of the tests, and they are ready to act on that fatigue in whatever ways they feel can best effect change

Because of the ongoing conversations that Lisa has been leading in the district, almost all of the parents I met with were on board with moving the school away from the traditional thinking about teaching and learning. But they wondered if teachers would be on board. And they wondered what that new vision of teaching and learning looked like. A few times, they asked for a road map or a plan to follow. Their frustration with the pace of change was palpable. But I was also impressed by their deep desire to grow these conversations to other parents and community members, and to start meeting with teachers and students to discuss a long term vision for change. 

I could go on, but let me just bullet out a few other key observations:

• One of the things the parents articulated most strongly was the fact that Lisa approached these conversations in a truly collaborative way. Basically, it’s been “we have to ask these questions, but more importantly, we have to find the answers together.” And as I said in the previous post, the key to sustaining the conversation in Lisa’s eyes is to make sure parents own it and continue it regardless of any leadership changes in the district down the road.
• One crucial piece that is becoming the focus is how to make sure teachers know that parents will support their efforts around change. When asked “would you be willing to sacrifice some points on the test during the change from a traditional classroom to a more student centered, authentic, inquiry based classroom?” most parents said yes.
• That said, most parents also are on board with the idea that test scores and more authentic student learning and teaching are not mutually exclusive. There may be a short implementation dip, but in the long run, the scores will take care of themselves.

I plan on tracking this conversation in Dobbs Ferry as it progresses, but safe to say it was great to hear parents understand the need for change, be willing to participate deeply in conversations around what that change may look like, and push forward despite the many difficult, unlearning pieces that come along with it. If you have any questions about the process, let me know.

I think this series of Tweets by Chris Lehmann from the Education Innovation Summit at Arizona State University yesterday pretty much speaks for itself. Read from the bottom up:

I know I’m not the only one who has been suggesting for some time now that we’re at a critical moment in the education conversation in terms of the future of public schooling as we know it, but if you’re an educator and you’re not feeling a sense of foreboding for the near future, I’m not sure what it’s going to take.

The strategy has become really clear: villify unions and teachers through policy and public outcry in ways that effectively compromise our voices when we push back, continue to frame education accountability in terms of our ability to compete against the world (as opposed to collaborate with the world) and, finally, promote more and more objective tests as the way to measure everything from “student achievement” to teacher effectiveness to teacher education programs to, oh, I don’t know, maybe how well the plumbing works. That is the recipe now to a) gain political favor and b) make lots and lots of money.

And it’s working.

I’m not convinced anyone in the conversation wants to do harm to kids. But I am convinced that all of this is being driven by dollars. Tech is a huge part of this, not because it can enhance real learning in all of the ways we share in our network, but because it creates all sorts of efficiencies that are just now being realized. Want to really personalize learning in ways that a single teacher in a classroom can’t? Not a problem. Want to have kids write more, a lot more, while not having to grade any of it? Not a problem.

You get the idea.

Remember this from last November?

This legislative juggernaut has coincided with a gold rush of investors clamoring to get a piece of the K-12 education market. It’s big business, and getting bigger: One study estimated that revenues from the K-12 online learning industry will grow by 43 percent between 2010 and 2015, with revenues reaching $24.4 billion.

And thereyago.

“We need a grass roots rejection of this,” Chris Tweets, and I agree. We as a community of educators who see the learning world in quite a different light really do need to start discussing and debating this in meaningful, ongoing ways.

Anyone up for a conversation (again) on how we really start to do this at scale? 

Just wanted to share that next week while thousands of New Jersey school children will be subjected to the annual ASK standardized tests, my 12-year old son Tucker will not be among them. We made a formal request to opt out, which is our legal right in NJ, and he’ll be staying home during the testing periods. (The absences are excused, btw.)

Wendy and I came to this decision after seriously considering the potential effects for the school and after some serious conversations with Tuck. Obviously, he didn’t mind the staying home part, but he did have concerns about what others might say or think. I’m thinking that won’t be a problem, but we wanted to make sure that in the end he was on board, and he is.

Below is a letter that we’re sending to the local paper and to nj.com. It articulates our reasoning and, I hope, might get other parents and community members to start some conversations around the tests. Just fyi, as a courtesy, I’ve already sent a copy to the principal at Tucker’s school to make sure she didn’t have any issues.

Interested in your thoughts, as always.

To the Editor:

After much thought, we have decided to keep our son home during the 7th Grade NJ ASK standardized assessments that are being given in his school next week. It is our legal right to do so, and we are basing this decision on our serious concerns about what the test itself is doing to our son’s opportunity to receive a well-rounded, relevant education, and because of the intention of state policy makers to use the test in ways it was never intended to be used. These concerns should be shared by every parent and community member who wants our children to be fully prepared for the much more complex and connected world in which they will live, and by those who care about our ability to flourish as a country moving forward.

Our current school systems and assessments were created for a learning world that is quickly disappearing. In his working life, my son will be expected to solve real world problems, create and share meaningful work with the world, make sense of reams of unedited digital information, and regularly work with others a half a world away using computers and mobile devices. The NJ ASK tells us nothing about his ability or preparedness to do that. The paper and pencil tasks given on the test provide little useful information on what he has learned that goes beyond what we can see for ourselves on a daily basis and what his teachers relay to us through their own assessments in class. We implicitly trust the caring professionals in our son’s classroom to provide this important, timely feedback as opposed to a single data point from one test, data that is reported out six months later without any context for areas where he may need help or remediation. In short, these tests don’t help our son learn, nor do they help his teachers teach him. 

In addition, the test itself poses a number of problems:

• Over the years, the “high stakes” nature of school evaluation has narrowed instruction to focus on only those areas that are tested. This has led to reductions in the arts, languages, physical education and more.
• Research has shown that high scores can be achieved without any real critical thinking or problem solving ability.
• The huge amount of tax dollars that are being spent on creating, delivering and scoring the tests, dollars that are going to businesses with, no surprise, powerful lobbyists in the state capitol and in Washington, DC, is hugely problematic.
• Proposals to use these test scores for up to 50% of a teacher’s evaluation are equally problematic. The tests were not created for such a use, and to create even higher stakes for the NJ ASK will only create more test prep in our classrooms at the expense of the relevant, authentic, real world learning that our students desperately need.
• These tests create unnecessary anxiety and stress in many students who feel immense pressure to do well.

In no way are we taking this step because of our dissatisfaction with our son’s public school, the teachers and administrators there, or our school board. We have simply had enough of national and state policies that we feel are hurting the educational opportunities for all children. At the end of the day, we don’t care what our son scores on a test that doesn’t measure the things we hold most important in his education: the development of his interest in learning, his ability to use the many resources he has at his disposal to direct his own learning, and his ability to work with others to create real world solutions to the problems we face. And we feel our tax dollars are better spent supporting our schools and our teachers who will help him reach those goals as well as the goals detailed by the state standards in ways that are more relevant, engaging and important than four days of testing could ever accomplish.

Will and Wendy Richardson

Delaware Township

Last year as I was finishing up the edits for my Learning on the Blog collection of blog posts from my decade of blogging, I decided to take whatever royalties the book earned over its lifetime and give the money to a deserving group, school, educator, etc. Here’s what I wrote in the introduction:

Finally, I’ve decided to donate all of the after tax proceeds from the sale of this book to support technology initiatives for schools that need them the most. Once a year, I’ll detail those efforts in my blog, the first installment of which will come in May 2012. I’ve reaped more than enough rewards from these posts in their online form; hopefully they’ll help some deserving kids make their own forays into the blogosphere in meaningful ways.

Now while I was hoping the book would sell hundreds of thousands of copies and that I’d be able to give away six-figure donations (#smiling) the reality is that in the four months it was out in 2011, it sold…um…a few. Enough to make my royalty payment about $1,000. (NOTE: This is a great reason to go out and buy the book this year so that I’ll have lots more money to throw around next year! #shameless)

Anyway, here’s my dilemma: my thinking about how to give away the money has changed a bit. I’m not sure how much of an effect $1,000 will have on any one school’s ability to change practice in a big way. I know it could provide opportunities for teachers and students to learn with technology, but I’m wondering if there might be a more effective way to put it to use.

My new idea is to offer it up as a grant that would be open for anyone to request with the following guidelines:

• The requestor should be a classroom teacher.
• The money will be used to create and share an artifact of high quality. (No “burping into VoiceThread” as our friend Gary Stager would say.)
• Students must be involved in the process.
• Finally, the product should be something that provokes larger conversations around the effects of technology on learning.

As I’ve written often here, I’m convinced we are at a very important moment in this conversation, and I’m convinced we need to do whatever we can to change the narrative. I’m wondering if $1,000 is enough for someone to get really creative and motivated to make something that will do just that.

So, what do you think? THIS IS NOT THE CALL TO SUBMIT IDEAS FOR THE MONEY! ;0) I hope to do that in a week or so when I flesh out the process. This is, however, the call to get some feedback on what you think I should do.

Ideas?

I posed a question on Twitter the other day that was seriously on my mind:

It’s been something that I’ve been thinking a lot about lately: how do we best use the reach that we have in our networks to articulate a different vision of “reform” than the current narrative? And is there a point where our “reach” compels us to be more provocative in that cause?

Let me be clear on where this comes from in my brain at least:

• We’re living at a moment of huge change in the ways we can learn and become educated, changes that go far beyond the social media tools and apps that have exploded in the last decade.
• Lots of folks see lots of opportunity (read: money) in the education space via the digitization of learning to achieve traditional ends. Non transformative transformations, so to speak. (Read this and weep.)
• There is a huge urgency at this moment to articulate a counter narrative to the one being funded and broadcast by large corporations, foundations and politicians, a narrative which is focused on using technology to achieve efficiencies in the pursuit of “higher student achievement” aka better test scores.
• If we are unable to mount a coherent, compelling response to this narrative, schools as we know them are pretty much toast.

That sums up my view of the world in four bullet points right now. And so when I saw a Tweet from someone in the education space with almost 100K followers, someone who has some global chops and reach and valuable things to say (as well as an effective way of saying it), but someone who doesn’t seem to be using that social media reach to actively provoke and push back, I started wondering. Is it fair to place a higher expectation on that person to do just that? (I know…Sir Ken’s whole Twitter story is an outlier.)

Safe to say, the thread generated some interesting conversation and pushback. You can get a gist of it here, though please know that I didn’t include all of the Tweets in there.

I’m not trying to tell anyone how to live their Twitter lives. And I know the whole concept of “reach” is impossible to figure by counting heads. More, I know 100K followers on Twitter is still nothing in terms of the grand scheme of things, especially in the education conversation. And I also know there are all sorts of other lenses to this question that would take many, many more words to bring to light.

But given the moment, I’m still left to ask: do we as educators who have a somewhat different view of what learning and schooling needs to be have a greater responsibility to really push the conversation, to get outside of our own networks (i.e. read #edreform), to question what others Tweet and post, to engage, respectfully, in the full vetting of ideas, and to write and act accordingly?  Is that a fair expectation right now, not just of the way we comport ourselves online but offline as well in our local, face to face interactions?

Or are we ok with leaving the broad brush construction of this new “reform” narrative around education to others who have a much different view of what schools and education and learning should be? #loadedquestion

Introducing my 12-year old son Tucker’s new website:

It’s all basketball drills for middle school players, and it’s hopefully just in the initial stages of becoming something that develops into something meaningful for him and others.

Right now, it’s just play. My wish is that for Tucker it might be a vehicle to learn all sorts of stuff around something he really has a passion for, and this stuff, too:

• Networking with other kid basketball players
• Video storyboarding and editing
• Storytelling
• Programming
• Publication and transparency
• Geometry
• Collaboration
• Curation
• Writing skills
• Website marketing
• Presence
• Dealing with strangers
• Taking feedback
• Patience
• Revision
• Dealing with failure
• Etc.

I know, I know. That’s all me talking. He’s motivated by showing off his skilz, and, to some extent, by learning how to process and publish the video. But hey, a dad can dream…

I might be back at some point to ask for your help in getting the word out. ;0)

As promised, I’m going to start trying to highlight some “Bold School” practices that I hope might serve as models for others to follow. (Note: I’m still looking for examples of those practices, so let me know if you’re being “bold” at your school…would love to connect.)

To that end, I want to offer up some of the work that Lisa Brady is doing as superintendent in Dobbs Ferry, NY around being “provocative,” specifically provoking conversations around real change in her local community. Some backstory just for context: Lisa was principal at Hunterdon Central during the last few years of my tenure there, and she returned as superintendent after I left in 2006. There, she led initiatives to move to a technology rich, connected, inquiry-based curriculum that are still evolving. She’s finishing up her first year in Dobbs Ferry, but she’s already made significant progress in changing the conversation around learning there as well. Her school district has about 1,650 kids K-12, is primarily blue collar, and has a fairly typical history of scoring well on the test and sending kids to college. It’s also a high school that features an IB program, and one that hasn’t made too many inroads into technology at all over the years. 

One of Lisa’s mantras is that schools have little choice when it comes to thinking differently about education. And she also believes that parents are the key to making that different thinking happen.

“Parents are the piece where we’re not doing enough legwork,” she says. “Marginalizing parents, not letting them be an important voice in the larger conversation is a huge mistake.”

Why? We all know the role parent’s play in budgets, election of school board members, and support for programs and teachers. But here’s the other thing: engaged and invested parents sustain the conversation over time. One of the biggest barriers to long-term change is that leaders rarely stay around long enough to see initiatives through. If parents are sufficiently invested in seeing those initiatives through over time, they will help to make sure that change continues despite a shift in leadership.

So, to that end, Lisa started early on with a program to a) set the context for the conversation with parents, b) be clear about what is most valuable in the learning interaction, and c) articulate that shared new vision to teachers and community in a variety of ways. The centerpiece was to invite all parents to read and discuss Tony Wagner’s The Global Achievement Gap, a book she chose because of the way it clearly articulated what schools need to value when it comes to an education.

“When you ask parents what they want their kids to be able to do, none of them ever says ‘pass the test’,” Lisa says. “They start with the types of skills that Wagner talks about, problem solving, agility, initiative. What parent is going to say ‘no’ to that? And that’s the frame that we have to keep coming back to when parents start talking about test scores. We have to keep asking them ‘is that really what’s important to you?’”

About 100 parents signed on to read and discuss the book, and over a month, Lisa held 10 discussions in parents’ homes, six during the day and four in the evening with a dozen parents each. While the meetings were supposed to last an hour, most went closer to three. (For some details of the themes that emerged check out this blog post.) What struck her most about the conversations were not the resistance to the idea of real change but, instead, parents’ concerns that teachers would change their practice. 

“We’re all saying the test is not the most important thing, but the state of NY is now saying the test is a big part of a teacher’s evaluation,” she said. “Parents wondered what effect that would have.”

That led to conversations with the teachers as well. “Teachers need to know that you or parents aren’t going to come after them with pick axes if scores go down. I made sure my staff were having conversations about change as well, and that they knew parents supported them, and that I would hold parents to that support once test time rolled around.”

The result has been a commitment on the part of the district to have ongoing conversations around the big picture value of an education in the Dobbs Ferry District, and a commitment to invest heavily in technology in the coming school year, an investment that has the support of the community. While there is still a lot of discussion about curriculum and instruction to come, the groundwork has been set in less than a year for significant changes in the way learning happens.

I plan on going into more detail on the process at Dobbs Ferry in other spaces, but here are some of the “bold” takeaways:

• Parents are the most important constituency to engage in conversations around the shifts we are experiencing. We have to be willing to provoke and engage in those conversations on an ongoing basis. 
• We have to trust that creating inquiry based, technology rich, connected spaces for learning will help students accomplish traditional outcomes (such as passing the test) as well. “It’s a bit of a leap of faith,” Lisa says, “but I just keep bringing the conversation back to what do we really want our kids to be able to do? If we believe that our kids should be self-directed learners, and critical thinkers and entrepreneurial learners, then we also have to believe that the test stuff will take care of itself.”
• We have to admit that we don’t have all the answers, but that we need parents to be a part of the solution. “Parents can get comfortable with the idea that we’re figuring this out together.”
• Teachers can feel very empowered when they know parents have their backs.
• We can’t wait for policy or politics to change. We have to be the impetus for change.

So what resonates here? What would you add? What questions do you have? What stops you from thinking it’s possible? 

From the “I Know I Keep Saying This But I Just Can’t Stop Dept.” comes yet another example of how out of whack our language is when talking about what student learning should be. In this long, celebratory piece from the Las Vegas Sun today we learn that students at a Nevada charter school have had their learning “transformed” at the Explore Knowledge Academy, the state’s first iSchool. And the path to transformation? The iPad, of course.

“The world has changed; the expectations in the workforce have changed,” said Abbe Mattson, EKA’s executive director. “You can’t even work at a McDonald’s without using a touch screen. … If we don’t change how we teach, it’s a disservice to our kids.”

Grrrrr…

In the six months since its technology infusion, EKA has become a model of what the classrooms of the 21st century might look like in Clark County.  Although some students found learning to use the new technology challenging, most took to digital learning immediately, Mattson said.  “It’s like second nature for the students,” she said. “They’re open to trying this and they’re used to this multimedia access.”

 Students use the iPads to access educational websites and applications as well as electronic textbooks. They use the iPad to take notes and the tablet’s camera to photograph whiteboards filled with teacher’s lessons and chemistry formulas. Some even record lectures using the iPad’s digital voice recorder or video camera, referring to them when they review for tests.

“I love them,” eighth-grader Alexa Freeman, 13, said of the iPads. “They’re super fast and easy to use.”

Wow…

And, finally…wait for it…

Educators say the potential payoff of this digital education is enormous, even though it’s still unproven if this nascent technology will increase student achievement. Educational games and visual applications attempt to make learning fun and keep students’ attention, which should translate to better test scores, teachers say.  “If you can get kids engaged, they’ll learn,” Mattson said. “These iPads will help get kids engaged.”

Learning = better test scores. And so it goes… 

Look, I know that this here blog has not been all happy, happy lately. I know my cynicism is seeping through more that even I would like. I know I need to get focused on the good, seriously transformative things that some “bold” schools are doing, and I will, I promise. Really. 

But I also know that if we keep allowing stories like these to set the bar for change, we’re shortchanging our kids. It’s yet another example of conflating teaching and learning, of not fully understanding the shift to self-directed, personal learning that technology and the Web support. Transformation in this sense means shifting the balance of power to the learner. And I know that starts way before we put a piece of technology in a kid’s hands. But with that power, the technology becomes a much richer, more valuable tool for learning. 

I just feel like we have to keep calling this what it is: old wine in new bottles.