The power of the individual

A teacher, relatively new to Social Media networks for professional development and education, posted this with a link to an interesting but not uncommon “test” of the power of Twitter:

DH

We’ve seen these kinds of thing before, and they are a standard gimmick for presenters of CPD workshops on the use of social media. Do these tricks represent power, however? I think they demonstrate something: connectivity, reach, that the new “community” isn’t restricted by geography or even timezone. By themselves, they do not demonstrate power. What is power? Whether you take the common usage or a stricter scientific definition, one could characterise “power” as the ability to change things.

Now, perhaps through jealousy or feelings of inadequacy, or maybe it’s just my age (I should be buying a Harley), I’m deeply suspicious of philanthropy. I regard the motivations of those who would throw money around with suspicion. The arrogance of those who, through whatever means have found themselves with serious amounts of money, then pityingly and patronisingly share life-changing amounts of it with the “poor” or “disadvantaged”, has always irritated me. If we had a fairer society, these benefactors wouldn’t have such disgusting wealth in the first place, and nor would those who needed the help, need it as much, if at all. More to the point, the pet projects and politics of the philanthropist wouldn’t prevail unfairly over more objective criteria.

cullaloe_2013-04-03So, in studying OER (Open Educational Resources) in the h817open mooc, it is mentioned in passing that, “Many OER projects have received funding from bodies such as the William and Flora Hewlett Foundation“. My own experience in state education made me flinch at reading this. Whether open or not, I have seen that almost all educational resources used in public (state) schools are developed by the class teacher – often on their own time and at their own expense. Hours of time are spent preparing differentiated and engaging resources, often laminated and produced in expensive coloured paperstock, or set up as an online resource for all to use. The latter, as often as not, because the school-provided system is so awful and difficult to use as to become rendered useless. (I’m trying to get this written without mentioning GLOW. Ooops.). All of this, provided in a billion small acts of philanthropy, in those extra unpaid hours and the extra ten- or twenty-dollar expenses not reclaimed.

I read Bill Hewlett’s biography with admiration and recognition that yes, he was a lovely man who leaves a lovely legacy. I have a positive regard for his company (I still carry around an HP-15C from the 80′s). I just find that philanthropy is an unpleasant basis to built a sustainable society upon.

Reflections on an effect of schooling

class

A reader, presumably a teacher, wrote in response to a question I asked recently  about experiences in school. My question related to how closely the ethos of the school should match that of the teaching staff. What I was particularly getting at was whether or not it is right that state education provision should be interfered with by the Catholic Church, which assumes a position of anachronistic influence in the appointment of teachers in Scotland.

The response I got was set in a different context altogether and rather struck a chord with me, so I thought I’d share it with you. Quote:

I have been asked by many different people one question: “…would you want to work at that school [again]?” And I say to each and every one of them, no. They don’t seem to understand this. “But it is a nice school, good facilities, etc etc etc.” There are a few things that I didn’t like about it there. One of which is how it looks like to me that all sense of individuality is just taken away from these [pupils]. They have to act in a certain way, they have to be a certain way, they even have to have their hair a certain way, and I just didn’t like it. I could see the progression through the years and how every single year they went up in the year, it appeared as if some part of them was missing. It didn’t sit right with me. I want my pupils to have personality, I want them to be individual and all different. I don’t want to teach the same [pupil] over and over and over again. That is why I will not be going back to that school. I am grateful for what they did for me, but I’m happy that it’s over.

So, who is right? Should a school be able to appoint staff who fit well with their ethos and principles? Should they only be able to do so if the school operates outside of the publicly-funded provision of education?

The Prestige

© Warner Brothers (mp4 (8MB))

Who needs a teacher when you’ve got Khan Academy?

maxAccording to the strapline at the head of this website, “Any teacher who can be replaced by a machine, should be”. The operative word here is can. The context and threat is the increasing use of video lectures and tutorials in delivering learning. The more paranoid teacher will wake up cold-sweating in the night from dreams of having been replaced by online video, screaming Kirk-like: “KHAN! KHAAAN!”. Worse, of having been assimilated within the technology.

The explosive interest in TED and the like reveals a world-wide hunger to know stuff: to learn new things and to keep up with the latest discoveries. The contemporaneous growth in the availability of broadband internet access has fed this demand and the relative inexpense of hand held and tablet video platforms has fuelled the explosion. The attraction is, of course, that users (I don’t like the term, “consumers” of data) can access a vast range of online material at their own convenience: in video bite-sized chunks in the train, the toilet, the traffic jam. As these slices of opportunity to access video get shorter, they fit in the spaces between all the other activities of the day and night like grains of sand in a jar of peas.

Get with it, man, MOOCs are the future

This proliferation of opportunity has led to the MOOC – the Massively Open Online Course – and the packaging of chunks of online reading and viewing into a complete short course has great appeal, judging by the uptake.

CharlesAtlas

Dear Charles Atlas, I have completed your excellent “he-man” course. I look forward to receiving my muscles.

The problem with moocs, however, is that they are massive and open. The course creators rely on large numbers of participants self-organising around social networks to create “vibrant communities” in a paradigm of students supporting and encouraging each other. The reality I have found in the mooc I am following is that the cacophony of the many drowns out the quality of the few. Thirty thousand voices shouting, “look at me!” over the lone quiet voice whispering, “look at this”. This has been of such concern to one mooc educator that they walked away. As a student, I have found that the contributions of the community do contain incisive, stimulating, funny, challenging and articulate contributions but you have to wade through the other 95% to find these. This has become so frustrating that I am now looking less at other contributions, in favour of concentrating the available time on the course materials alone.

Who needs teachers?

Bad ones? Nobody. Mediocre ones? No, thanks. Give me Khan. A book. Anything else. The ones that bring you to the penny dropping, the light coming on, the rush, the boom, the click, the whatever-happens-in-your-head-when-you-finally-get-it? Now you’re talking.

So what is it about the teacher that cannot be replaced by a machine? What makes them so magical? The clue is in the video clip at the top of this post. The magician knows how to manage expectations, create perceptions and deliver a satisfying climax to a sequence of events. Most importantly, he knows all about the observer’s perspective: the entire sequence is designed to achieve an effect in the audience.

The magical teacher plans, organises, details and delivers the learning with a full and detailed understanding of the student experience and perspective. He or she understands that the stages in the lesson have resonance with the stages of magic described by Michael Cain. The Pledge begins in prior learning and relevant context. The Turn is a hook, perhaps new knowledge or skills, something interesting or engaging, full of promise and misconception. The Prestige is the moment when understanding reveals itself – the flourish, the step from dark into light, the feeling that fills your heart, the satisfaction. It takes place in the Zone of Proximal Development.

We can get The Pledge and the Turn of learning by ourselves, given the resources. The irreplaceable teacher brings us The Prestige.

Review, reflect, restore.

If you’re reading this before 28th June 2012 and you know the significance of that date, you might be wondering what has prompted this premature return to public life.

I and my bosom must debate awhile,
And then I would no other company.

The answer is that an opportunity has arisen which requires me to consider what it is that I have done of value as an educator, beyond the job I am paid to do.

That consideration isn’t an easy one without spending some time digging back through diaries and online resources, many of which are no longer publicly available. I have spent that time over the Easter break and have found it extraordinarily interesting. For one thing, it seems I have done a lot – more than I could casually remember – around but outside of the job which pays the rent. For another, it has revalidated what I do as a professional in the place it matters most to me: in my own mind.

So here it is, complete as it need be for now. As the dusk settles on this long day of exile, I hope and trust that I will be able to proceed with confidence that my intentions are evident and my passions and interest undiminished.

Non nobis, non nobis, Domine
Sed nomini tuo da gloriam.