johnhendron.net: hendron’s digest - a weblog

Technology keeps getting… easier.

Vidnik is a new Mac application that lets you record from your built-in iSight camera, and posts the video straight to YouTube. They give the idea of keeping a video diary.

Keeping a video diary intrigues me, but I also don’t always like to watch videos. Sometimes the written word wins: i.e., I can listen to music while I read blogs. Second, I don’t always sound succinct or lucid if I just “hit record.” Maybe you don’t either. And does that matter, sitting side-by-side more polished writings and presentations?

Clay wrote earlier this month about the state of teen blogging, taking apart some recently published statistics. To boil it down, he only recommends blogging in a [English] course that’s advanced: for kids who really like to write. The reason? Blogging, computers, and the technology don’t instantly make writers out of kids. If they didn’t want to write with paper and pencil, why is the technology going to change that?

I agree with his general point, but from a much different perspective. As the guy who has to manage student blogs, I don’t want hundreds of kids in our system blogging. At least until we have a better logistical handle on how to do it.

So, I’d rather just a few cases here and there emerge, with teachers who are going to regularly use blogs in the classroom, with kids who naturally like to write.

But I also look at the computer, the blog specifically, and the audience it gives emerging writers and wonder that if we hold back on the blogging that we might be throwing-away the incentive to write. I’ll be honest here, when I’ve asked kids to write in my classes, I get things that I’d never expect out of their mouths. Reading what they write was interesting. And despite the statistic Clay cites for how important kids think writing is for success in life, a good writer/communicator is never something that holds you back.

So, I don’t see the harm in introducing blogging if it gets kids to write, even when they don’t have a natural need of writing. But I am not sure I’d use it in the same way Burrell does–in English class.

I’d be interested in blogging in a blogging style: to keep track of what was learned, personal reflections, etc. To make this successful, we have to show models. Are there good models of blogs as learning databases out there?

Tonight while looking at several MIT online courses, I came across one by Mitchel Resnick. Of course, he was behind a project I’m real fond of, Scratch, which is a simple programming environment that is appropriate for elementary and middle school learners. (I personally think Scratch can be introduced a grade 3, but it will likely become limited after 3 years of use, i.e., use at grades 3-5, 4-6, or 5-7).

I also came across a reading he lists, from the Alliance for Childood, their Tech Tonic. The brief is highly suspicious of corporate entities (read: Intel, Apple) and some organizations like CoSN and ISTE.

Some points are valid questions. They are opting for less screen time and more people time. In today’s American culture, I don’t think anyone would argue that “quality” time from/with caring adults could ever be in excess, harming a child. Instead, we often identify problems with children in situations where parents are too busy, missing, or abusing.

In a section of the report centered on “Developmental Guidelines” (see page 79-82), they suggest middle school age children just might be introduced to educational uses of television after they understand how TVs work. And suggest high school students be able to perform research on the Web, at the same time that they become involved participants in community-based ethical norm setting to help them deal with both the obvious and hidden aspects of using technology.

I’m all for helping develop literacy, ethics, and technology fluency in schools. But, to suggest that we deal with the ethical issues only at the high school level, or research at the middle school level, is rather novel. Naive, perhaps, too. Parents who aren’t card-carrying members of the Alliance may not have TVs or Internet at home, and certainly don’t give their children cell phones. But what about those misguided parents who do have broadband Internet, have 2nd graders who can load DVD players, and a copious pile of cell phones at the ready in the home?

I feel this “tonic” assumes that the only technology students have access to is in school. And it is highly suspicious about most of it. The premise, assumed, is: “It can’t be good if its good hasn’t yet been proven. For the sake of Mother Earth, technology is of course assumed suspect!”

The reality in many communities is that students and their families are quite fluent with the use of a variety of technologies. And the effects of assuming a digital lifestyle aren’t always traditional, healthy, or advantageous. Yet, we push forward, for a variety of reasons–reasons that schools are inadequate to significantly influence. Instead, as some have called for, we might turn to the “tools in their pockets” as a new means to educate them.

I felt that this report gave some valid concerns about current-day society, without fully accepting what society has become. It’s far too late to turn Luddite and think we can make our digital reality go away. Their call for “giv[ing] our children and youth the full opportunity to get to know themselves through play, the arts, and hands-on learning, so that the have a solid sense of self–and confidence in their own creativity and competence–before tackling the major issues of the world” need not be exclusive of a world that communicates, emotes, sings, dances, solves problems, and sees itself with digital technology.

Being an educator, I sometimes marvel at the lack of “professional development” time or dollars that are spent in other professions. I have a close friend, who over the past 3 years at one job, has not once been sent for training of any type. No on-site mentoring. Nothing, save, for a book or two, and permission to attend a conference (where, I might add, the emphasis was placed on him winning an award).

I think any one who we expect to be on top of their game ought to undergo regular “PD.” Sylvia at “Generation Yes” spoke recently about PD concluding that, according to S. Papert, a project-based approach where PD was happening in the classroom live with students was the best approach. One commenter called this method guide on the side.

We have that model here in Virginia, although it works differently among schools and school divisions. ITRTs are crucial “guides” on the side. No doubt, this model isn’t ideal for 100% of our teachers and administrators, but it likely is one of the better approaches.

Time and money (economics) dictate workshops. Do we have 20 trainers/guides? No! But we can teach a skill to 20 teachers in one session. If they’re motivated (and lucky) enough, they might get to use what they learn. Or, try it, and fail, and never attempt it again. It’s no wonder some teachers have a bitter reflection of using tech in the classroom.

But reading Sylvia’s post also reminded me of the Google model, which isn’t precisely professional development, but could be. Their “20%” rule has been described as an incentive to work on “personal projects” in the workplace, among a creative (read: non-constrained) environment.

Today at work I checked out some new Web 2.0 websites for about 30 minutes. I felt guilty doing so, to be honest. But that should count as my own PD. Explore new tools, consider the possibilities; educate myself.

No doubt, we’d likely have better schools if we granted teachers professional time that allowed them to network and self-discover new approaches to pedagogy.

I will be very interesting in reading Malcolm Gladwell’s upcoming book, focused on the workplaces of the future.

I don’t like to think of us as educators as making future workers (there is something far more lofty when thinking about preparing our students for their future lives as democratic citizens), but I’ve made the most impact when I’ve talked about why we need to change in the field, when I’ve tied it to future work.

So, David Warlick always talks about the workplace of the future and says we don’t know much about it. He does a nifty trick where he shows you a home office and makes everything disappear. But I do think we know some, and I’m sure Gladwell has some good insight.

We might also talk about the school of the future. I know less about that, but to say, we have a hard time changing that. There are many reasons, I’m sure; here are a few I believe in:

• schools are built for use in multi-year increments (25-50-75 years)
• new schools are designed around what schools have been to the current administrators and architects
• schools are built on the cheap
• we don’t train teachers by in large to teach in different spaces

I mean, schools just have:

• lockers
• gyms
• cafeterias
• band rooms
• classrooms with rows of desks, and sage platforms

I’ve seen some new schools that are certainly impressive, but they aren’t typical. Many of note are experimental charter schools. Here are some things off the top of my head I’d like to see, should I be building a school in the next couple of years:

• unique spaces, not a collection of similar classrooms
• adequate space for storing and charging computing devices
• adequate power in learning spaces
• spaces students can build in

And what else, while I’m dreaming? Why not make it easy for students to communicate privately with teachers (e-mail, chat), deliver great bandwidth with big fat network pipes, and accept only students with good attitudes?

Okay, I am dreaming. But we ought to be thinking about what would make a better educational environment. There’s always room for improvement. And it’s not a bad idea to look ahead to a future world of work.

Before setting out for work this morning, I received a marketing e-mail from PBwiki announcing a new feature. They also linked to this example hosted at their site: a wikitechbook, “homemade” by students in a college course studying to become teachers.

In my book I mention a scenario for wikis where students in a school produce their own version of the Wikipedia. But the idea here, instead, is students of education create their own textbook. While conceivably high school juniors and seniors might take on such a project in K-12, I think you’d need a special group (highly motivated).

But the idea of having college students, who are learning to become educators (and will very likely encounter the paper-based textbooks in their first jobs) is an excellent idea. They will be collaborating to put this thing together, always be asking themselves “what belongs in a textbook”, and hopefully discovering ways to improve the textbook concept. Alongside other efforts to make open-source textbooks, projects like these could be submitted to some central authority for quality-control and licensing (something “copy-left”, not for profit).

So, kudos to Dr. Delta Cavner of Southern Baptist University for having her students establish a wiki textbook.

Last night I came across a blog post criticizing a recent article in Leading and Learning with Technology magazine, the most widely-read ISTE journal. Scott McLeod, a professor at Iowa State University, had issues with the article’s quality.

Specifically, he found sections of the article lacking, dated, irrelevant; the whole thing, perhaps, a “squandered opportunity.” He says the ISTE editors “didn’t do their job with this one.”

As it turns out, I hadn’t read the article yet. I figured “it can’t be this bad.” At least once before, I found Dr. McLeod’s negativity discouraging. With such an open, critical review of this article, I know if I had been the author, I would have been crushed.

Worse yet, comments on the blog only echoed McLeod’s sentiment. One said: “I can only imagine the damage the author is doing to her reputation and credibility as tech-savvy educator,” while another said: “I just went back and read it again and you are right on target with your criticism. Looks like an article from 4-5 years ago with a section added in the middle about the collaborative web.”

So this morning, before I checked my morning e-mail, I broke-into the article and examined it with a careful eye. It was a leading article for this issue, and even enjoyed fanciful artwork and “Web 2.0″ glossy “Aqua-esque” treatment to headers in the table comparing online web services.

I wanted McLeod’s review to be unfair and mean. I wanted this article to have redeeming qualities. I found, however, the article does fail, but for somewhat different reasons.

First, the title isn’t addressed. “Creating Valuable Class Web sites” suggests some newfound knowledge that will make a class webpage… worth making. The article does little of that. Instead, it focuses on three methods for creating a website. This might have been okay. Basically, these are the options author Betsy Baker offers:

• Use an online webpage creation tool (Geocities, Tripod)
• Use the Read/Write Web (blogs, wikis)
• Start from Scratch (but cheap), i.e., using web design software (Dreamweaver, FrontPage, iWeb, etc.)

Second, I did question why certain tools and services were listed (i.e., “Macromedia” Dreamweaver was one that stuck out), and McLeod and company did the same. The problem is, some of these tools (including Geocities) still exist! Today, it’s Adobe Dreamweaver, and so what if FrontPage is the 2003 edition. What I thought was unfair in McLeod’s review was the assumption that just because the latest and greatest tools weren’t being used, the article stunk.

Instead, the article lacked merit because it didn’t build on its own strong title. Comparing FrontPage 2003 to a modern wiki page is not even fair. It’s not comparing apples to oranges. Sure, some educators I work with still are nostalgic enough to want to goal-set “having my kids make a webpage.” “So what?” I ask. “What is that going to do for them?”

“I don’t know.”

Well, let’s start: what would make for a valuable learning experience when it comes to the Web?

Instead, the article offers this pull-quote: “Research indicates employers soon will expect workers to be able to create, maintain, and use Web sites.”

Whoa. My legs are weak from the time-warp. I forgive McLeod. Yeah, some of tools are out-dated. But is the author suggesting kids should make websites because it’s a future work requirement? Back to that question.

A valuable class web site is one (100% my opinion here) that:

• communicates what students are learning,
• is easily accessible by all the stakeholders,
• encourages 21st century collaboration and cooperation,
• allows students to connect their own emerging knowledge.

Yes, some day employers will want employees to have web skills. In my district, teachers have to maintain a weblog. The day has already come for many of us.

But let me return to my original point: the tools we use shouldn’t really matter. Sure, the “read/write” tools make it easier (and quicker) to focus on content rather than HTML. But I have teachers who today use a variety of tools to create their own presence on the web: one who maintains a digital version of her curriculum using Dreamweaver, another who podcasts regularly, and another that built an awesome drama website for her kids using iWeb. It’s a mixture of Web 1.0 and Web 2.0 tools.

What’s the value in publishing on the Web?

• Motivation through the sharing of student work,
• Communication with parents about what’s going on in the classroom,
• Self-paced instruction for students,
• Creative expression by students.

Ultimately, the most valuable web site might be one that gives equal access to publication by all learners. That’s why I’d have framed the article in a completely different way.

Giving students voice means they’ll likely be using Read/Write tools. That’s what’s most valuable; it’s also the point I think that ultimately disappoints in this particular article.

Our focus then becomes, as McLeod rightly suggests, on how to gain access to read/write tools, or as he says, “[the article] should have included “Some discussion of the desirability of using outside, non-district-sponsored tools…”

And then, finally, it all starts to make sense when we read Karen Work Richardson’s article (”Don’t Feed the Trolls”), calling for students to participate online as bloggers to learn a few things about civil discourse. Now that’s valuable.

Brad Bird was recently interviewed, and four quotes I thought were worth sharing.

Involved people make for better innovation… Involved people can be quiet, loud, or anything in-between—what they have in common is a restless, probing nature: “I want to get to the problem. There’s something I want to do.”

How many times do we encounter educators who have seemed to lose their involvement?

The first step in achieving the impossible is believing that the impossible can be achieved. … “You don’t play it safe—you do something that scares you, that’s at the edge of your capabilities, where you might fail. That’s what gets you up in the morning.

How often do we find this attitude in schools? How many times do parents share the same vision, the one that’s sometimes imposed on teachers? What happens when everyone doesn’t believe… in the impossible?

If you work in lighting but you want to learn how to animate, there’s a class to show you animation. There are classes in story structure, in Photoshop, even in Krav Maga, the Israeli self-defense system. Pixar basically encourages people to learn outside of their areas, which makes them more complete. [and more creative].

(Emphasis, mine). I think learning together–even if it isn’t, let’s say, a pedagogical skill, or a software application, can be fun and encouraging. I’d actually love teaching something off-the-wall with teachers. Encouraging creativity is good for education; I believe it 110%.

If you have high morale, for every $1 you spend, you get about $3 of value. Companies should pay much more attention to morale.

The payoff in education is not sales, of course, but… the importance is just as great, if not more so. Too many folks, I’ve seen, ignore morale problems because honestly, they aren’t equipped to fix them.

I know that having access to technology is most important in the equation of using it for education, but… this story, and Negroponte’s quote rubbed me the wrong way.

Okay, it wasn’t a quote, but a paraphrase.

Negroponte said he was mainly concerned with putting as many laptops as possible in children’s hands.

It seems the leadership behind OLPC is falling apart, even though they still hold optimism. Optimism for open-source on one side, optimism for Windows on another.

It would seem to me, getting more copies of Sugar out there is a good idea. Only with a wider base will it evolve (and in theory, improve) more quickly. It would make sense that we could install it on a fancier (read: larger) computer here in the U.S., and perhaps, even pay a small subsidy, that would pay for the hardware elsewhere.

But having “laptops in their hands” alone won’t solve many issues. OLPC is an experiment, and one, when I saw it introduced, I thought deserved a chance to succeed.

Mr. Dembo over at the techlearning blog posted this past August on a False sense of security from school filters. He was surprised tips were so easily found online for bypassing the filter.

I’ve heard the argument before; it was most blatantly made by Marc Prensky at a conference I attended 2 years ago here in Virginia.

To wit:

The bigger question is, if our expensive filters are insufficient for keeping students off websites we’d like to block, how do we teach our students to navigate these sites in a safe and appropriate way?

Let’s have a reality check here.

1. Schools need money, including what (little) the federal government supplies us.
2. The filter is a federally-mandated requirement.
3. Many educators feel “entertainment” isn’t a part of the school day, at least when they consider why a $1200 computer and a fast Internet connection has been provided.

We sometimes find a student who tries to find racy pictures. Twenty years ago, the kid’s father might have attempted to bring-in a racy magazine. The media has changed, the behavior, not so much.

But by in large, kids aren’t up to all looking for dirty pictures, hateful language, or instructions for making a bomb. They want entertainment. Web-based games, videos, etc.

Yeah, some teachers have the itch, too.

But I don’t like it when folks suggest that maybe we might look the “other way” or that we’re facing an uphill battle. It does ring with some truth, from time to time, but can we change the attention away from the “bad schools” who use filters and instead on the “bad government” that imposes these rules?

I like a filter and I’d vote to have one without a federal mandate. I’d open certain things we have to filter, and perhaps close off other stuff that was more gray.

Despite my distaste for suggesting all the filters are smoke and mirrors, my point is that filtering should be a local issue. Curriculum should be a local issue. And, gosh, we ought to teach students how to deal with the “real” Web. But maybe we ought to also hold them to a higher standard that sets boundaries and limits on what’s permitted. Too often, the consequences are either not understood, or too weak to deter the game.

The real solution here is as complicated as the one for cheating. Would it be easier to educate all the teachers about all the Web so they can educate all the students?–or just block the stuff that gets in the way of learning? We (as schools) more often than not, take the easy route.

No, change they way our students learn. Change the rules. Don’t cut out a website because it’s powerful, cut it out because it’s harmful towards the mission of the school. As I’ve been told by colleagues for many years, the best filter is the one upstairs in your head.

Tim recently posted about being Googley, and as much as I admire Google and all, I decided to read into the list for profound underpinnings.

As it turns out, these are good traits, no matter if you work for Google, want to be a good citizen, or simply want to change the lives of young people.

To paraphrase,

1. Focus on people,
2. KISS,
3. Engage,
4. Innovate,
5. Design for those outside your reach*,
6. Plan for today and the future,
7. Be worthy of our trust,
8. Human touch.

I think #10 is most important. It’s that #6 I want to spend just a couple sentences on, however.

Their #6 is design for the world, but I changed it slightly. When I design things in my job (a screencast, an after-school class, or a writing I do) I look beyond its immediate use. I don’t intend it just for my immediate, intended audience, but instead, a far-wider, far-reaching net.

After all, what I publish invariably ends up online. But shouldn’t we all aim higher, and take the extra effort, to make world-class things? If you speak of it another way, “Well for us here, I only would have to…”, you dumb it down.

I think one of the more important things I can do is share the fruits of my labor with more than just the 220 employees who are in instructional positions. Someone once said of me, “You’re always willing to share, you put so much of what you do out, online, for others to use.”

That’s right. I’m aiming for those outside my typical reach. And shouldn’t this be something we all go for? How are we to compete for the recognition of our ideas in an Internet-accesible age when our ideas aren’t good enough for a wider audience?

Be Googley. It can’t hurt.

Kevin recently posted about a new book that looks good, entitled Digital Ego.

We have talked a lot to teachers for the past two years on Internet safety, cyber-based copyright, etc., and there is a genuine concern for student safety. Are we careful to warn against using too-revealing information about ourselves?

This topic interests me because you do gain a reputation through search. I chose some time ago to use my real name for this website. I wanted to build a reputation, a type of “digital identity.” I figured if someone knew my name, they ought to find me in my own place online.

In college, we never used our real names, we used handles. And I use handles too, for non-professional activity online.

There’s some saying I seem to recall… “You’re only as good as your reputation” or something like that. It’s a reminder that in this emerging stage of electronic culture, our identities are very vulnerable.

I liked Gen Yes’s quote from Papert:

The role of the teacher is to create the conditions for invention rather than provide ready-made knowledge.

What was even more interesting was a comment from Lisa-Gaye that she gets tired of teaching with colleagues who are “sages on the stage.”

Having just went through something with many of our teachers along this vein, there was some resistance. Some simply will tell you “I don’t have the time or patience” to change my teaching, use technology, or… learn something new.

Becoming an agent of change is tough work, no doubt about it.

I’ve been thinking about fluency of late; having just presented to our K-12 staff a presentation (a half-day) looking at this concept alongside 21st century skills.

Following my earlier post on the advantages of digital reading tools (i.e, the Web, ebooks, PDF, etc.) today I was writing in a Moleskine notebook. There’s something about it (likely similar some reserve for the romanticism for books) that I like. But, this article on fluency reminded me how more fluent a writer I am when I use a computer.

A teacher recently wrote that she didn’t think technology should replace books. Don’t get rid of the books! she silently cried aloud in her head.

I’ve run across many luddites and technophiles who, despite their comfort with technology, decry replacing paper books.

I had a long discussion at lunch today over this topic with a colleague. He collects books; he’s got an impressive library on many different topics.

“I have a connection with a book; it alone can tell a story…”

I cut him off. “My CDs I buy can tell a story too, they have little books, and sometimes, I leave the price stickers on–for used ones–and I could tell you where I bought each one…”

We both started at each other like old women recounting the achievements of their grandchildren.

I read books, and I like marking in them. But the futurists I read seem to be telling us a few things. My own thoughts:

• Kids in schools today will read the majority of text in their lives off screens via electricity.
• We have yet to replace books. But the benefits of non-books may soon outweigh book benefits.
• Electronic books (Kindle, computer, cell phone) offer us potential that books cannot, and that’s why I think their days are numbered.

Specifically, with electronic text, you can:

• Save it;
• Carry it (and a lot of it);
• Search it;
• Tag it;
• Hightlight it;
• Have it read to you;
• Have portions sent to others;
• Quote it, and
• Summarize it.

We say teens are saving time and all with abbreviations, l33tspeak, and “chat lingo.” Why write-out a word when the abbreviation is so much quicker?

Why read a whole book when the chips and software can help you digest it more quickly?

Readibility needs work; formats need attention, but I already see huge benefits with breaking-news type content: i.e., NY Times online, Google News, Digg, blogs, RSS, etc., etc.

My 2¢ before dreaming…

The so-called “Four Eyed Technologist” recently posted on educators as learners, and his call was for the professionalism of educators to include self-learning and exploration.

In short, he suggested several action items:

1. Spend a portion of your day honing professional practice.
2. Establish a professional learning network.
3. Establish a virtual learning space.
4. Make professional reflection and scholarly work a public priority.
5. Model professional learning.

These sound wonderful, and they remind me of myself, I have to confess… I read, I create, I participate in online discussions, and I try to model these behaviors for our teachers.

But I feel the flaw in his call is that the public education system does not foster an environment for these learning opportunities or action items.

We try hard where I work, but let’s take a more typical place:

• Can’t get online to social networks because they’re blocked.
• Paid for contract time that begins with a duty, and ends once the kids walk out.
• May or may not have a school-issued computer.
• Self-guided time learning doesn’t count towards professional development requirements of the system.
• Scholarly work? Now, where’s the time for this?

I think these action items might be identifiers for very motivated and top-shelf educators (by saying I do some of this, I’m not trying to express any vanity), but you’d expect the better educators among us to be doing some of these things… right?

I use technology to stay focused, aware, and on top of trends, tools, and techniques. But I spent the majority of my days in front of a screen; I have no kids, and I frankly have more leisure time than your average teacher. Add an active family life, a 1 hour commute each day, time for vacation, and time for coping with a typical day: I’m supposed to drag my colleagues kicking and screaming to read my blog? At this point, I send out a weekly newsletter. I give away prizes if you read it. If they don’t care by this point, then… it’s not worth my time.

I simply don’t think our education system supports an environment for these action items to be carried-out. And I wish it were different.

Many in the education community have expressed opinions that earlier in our history, technology (i.e., computers) were introduced into our schools for the sake of introducing… technology.

I grew up during this generation. In the second-half of the first grade, we received one Apple //e computer in each classroom. When we got to use it, it was for things like Logo (making the turtle move) and educational games.

The games, like The Oregon Trail were far more popular and more widely used. I mean, how can a turtle compete with music, flashing graphics, and a persona who was talking to me?

I never felt that the computers were there “just because”. In hindsight, I could rationalize their existence because

• they were developing logical thinking skills more efficiently (Logo), and
• the games were motivational in ways other types of learning experiences were not.

But other folks felt the computers were there because the computers were the future. “Kids are going to have these in their offices and their workspaces and they need the experience of using this ‘future’ machines.”

No, that’s no real quote, but it’s the sentiment teachers today told me was floated about in the late 1980s and early 1990s where they began work.

And so today, we certainly do not use technology for “technology’s sake.” Right?

I think today we should have technology for technology’s sake more than ever before. But let me explain before you dismiss me.

Think about how school has changed from 1980 to 2005: that’s 25 years of innovation, folks. Except for the hair styles, or the markers replacing chalk, the only thing I could think of that’s changed in many schools is the technology. Yet, everything ought to have been evolving the whole time: room setups, collaborative spaces, and more flexibility for the school day.

Schools (and politics and human nature) being what each are, about the only thing maybe we could change was the technology. Broken computer? Sure, we’ll get you a new one… but it likely has new features.

Frustration set in when teachers discovered that this new computer ran a new system (What’s Windows?) and totally new software (Oregon Trail is in color now? Oh, we just now have a color screen… cool.).

Do we need technology because we have a leg-up on the skills kids will need 10 years from now? Well, I think being able to type on a computer, spell-check, perform a Google search are worthwhile, basic machine literacies that will likely be required in the majority of work, sure.

But by in large, they also do not take a long time to learn. So many technologies (cell phones, for instance) have adopted the same basic literacies that any child who is awake and is spoiled in this country is going to gain these literacies (to whatever degree) if they want to or not. So no, not technology for just developing basic literacies such as typing, spell-checking, or performing a Google search).

So why did I say what I did? Because technology in school enables us as educators to develop a diverse set of skills many are calling “21st century skills.” While these are not technology skills for the most part, many require technology beyond books, paper, and pencils to master.

We’re finally at that tipping point, to borrow a loaded phrase, where technology is no longer a luxury, it’s something society has donned necessary going forward. This isn’t new, it’s just the technology is new, this trend is historical. But it’s time schools caught up… because with the speed at which technology is changing, evolving, and emerging, we have little time to sit back and take our time.

We use technology to cope with the future.

These were just some thoughts in my head this morning as I was taking a shower and getting dressed, and I didn’t want to lose them… consider it a draft.

David Warlick recently posed some questions to a group he was speaking to out of state. I changed his questions, somewhat, as I might address educators, not policy leaders:

• What does the future hold for education?
• What aren’t schools and districts doing to prepare for the future?
• What change in society might help improve the impact of our jobs?

I think asking thought-provoking questions is an excellent way to begin professional development sessions; meetings, or discussions in the coffee house. I thought I’d proffer a few of my own ideas.

Future for Education. More challenges. We’ll continue to see society look at schools to solve the problems schools identify, but may not ultimately be responsible for. The future also holds promise. If we aren’t optimistic, we might as well accept defeat.

What aren’t we doing… In some cases we’re not preparing students with authentic experiences. I made the analogy today with a colleague about driving cars and the full, un-restricted Web in schools: “It’s like the bumper cars at the amusement park… I’d want my elementary son or daughter to have a bumper car experience with the Web in elementary school. In high school, it’s time for the bumpers to be removed, and scars inflicted; it’s only fair to prepare them with the real deal. We do as much teaching them to drive cars, right?”

In other cases, we aren’t keeping kids accountable to our own rules because the homes they come from value our rules or the idea of rules so little.

What changes could impact us… I for one would support more innovative practices to attract high-quality teachers. Tuition waivers for college, for one. More innovative use of planning and personnel (more personnel, to support more professional development, planning time, etc.). These are societal changes, in effect, because our at-large society needs to come together to support the wholesale improvement of our educational system. A country less obsessed with capitalism (i.e., fewer work hours, more vacation, etc.) would likely change the dynamics of homelife for students.

It’s late; I do require sleep.

Today many ITRTs in Virginia received a letter from the Virginia Department of Education on a training session for resource teachers on using so-called “Web 2.0″ tools. I call them read/write tools, but nitpicking aside, here’s the description of the course.

I wrote the DOE back, and this is what I said:

Thanks for the invitation to attend this session. I wanted to write you in concern for how the DOE can support school divisions for implementing Web 2.0 tools; namely, read/write tools such as blogs and wikis, but also other social tools including photo and video sharing services.

What I hear from so many folks within Virginia (and abroad) both through my own personal contacts and through read/write/social avenues is a refusal of school divisions to allow teachers (or in this case ITRTs) to use Read/Write and social web tools within their walls.

I could provide a number of examples, but the issue I feel is this:

This service is too open compared to what we’ve done in the past. There may be harmful material or opportunities there. Instead of raising the risk these dangerous tools could bring, let’s simply ban them.

Some hope that someday a cleansed version might exist for analogues to these tools. Others take risks and try them anyhow. And others ban and decry anything that has any association with read/write/social in the name.

It seems to me there are quite a few folks in VSTE interested in social, read/write tools, and now the DOE is promoting training in read/write tools. What might we do to calm the waters around Web 2.0 alarm for educators who want to use these tools within their walls, their classrooms, and their communities? If the DOE isn’t addressing this, I think they could certainly play a key role.

So, what do people do when they attend this training, only to find when they come back to work, that wikis (PBWiki, Wikispaces), blogs (edublogs, blogger, wordpress.com) and other sites (Flickr, YouTube) are banned via their Web filters?

Today’s day at work had some stress and strife associated with it; I don’t necessarily understand all the reasoning for me getting uptight, but it gave me an experience of working as some others do.

Today our ISP at work added their own filter which blocked some of our websites folks were trying to get to. Our ISP, is the county. We went into an agreement with them last year to share an Internet connection and save money.

Today they were testing out their own filter, and instead of just affecting the county offices, it affected everyone. Suddenly, folks started freaking out, e-mailing and calling me, wondering what was going on.

Then it hit me: this is what it must feel like at some other schools! No YouTube! No blogs! No wikis! No Google Docs & Spreadsheets! Phew. Welcome back to Web 1.0.

All the sites I needed were quickly unblocked, and the county was very accommodating by letting us “whitelist” sites we needed to use. But that hour or so when we didn’t know what was going on and panic set in, was very educational.

So what does that do for a school or district where… they go to a conference, or read a blog at home, or get a book on using Read/Write tools in the classroom, and they can’t do it at work? Does that encourage innovation in teaching?

I wrote to a colleague today in another district about their laptops being “locked down.” I asked the same question… if the tools you use can’t be innovative, then what’s the impetus for innovating (i.e., improving, changing, differentiating) your instructional habits?

We have our debates too, like other places, I’m sure, about what’s “instructional” and what’s not. Oh well, it’s after hours, time to relax, and to learn from what caused us stress.