connect. create. question.

I simply cannot believe I have not posted since June.  June!  In case you hadn’t guessed, things have been rather nutty over in my neck of the Educational Woods.

Where I’ve been

Briefly — for those 3 “regular” readers who may have assumed that I’d “taken off, eh” in my true Canadian form — this is what I’ve been up to:

• A wonderful summer of laughter, love, travel, family, and yoga.  Blissful vacation in my home province of Alberta, Canada, and my partner’s home state of California.
• In June (shortly after my last post) I received a request to run an MYP Language A level 1 workshop in Hong Kong — my very first MYP workshop ever!  Of course I accepted, not quite realizing how much work would be involved.  The workshop dates: Sept 13-15, 2008.
• Also in June, I began studying for my GRE (Graduate Record of Examination), as preliminary application prep for grad school in the fall of 2009.  My exam date:  Sept 26, 2008.

Photo by Dr Craig
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• It then occurred to me that both preparing for my MYP workshop and studying for my exam were going to have to happen simultaneously.  No problem, right?

• Wrong.
• Back-to-school in mid-August.  Mayhem ensued.

You’ve probably already guessed that the MYP workshop prep took priority over my GRE study.  When I look back at the past two months, I still can’t quite believe I did all of this AND taught 4 different grade levels full time, coherently (OK, OK, semi-coherently).  So, you might say I’ve been insanely busy.

How it went

MYP workshop in Hong Kong: Wonderfully!  Far better than I had expected, and with plenty of positive feedback to boot.  It was well worth the two weeks of Hardly Any Sleep (yes, that deserves capital letters), and 3 nights of mediocre room service meals in my hotel room.

GRE: In a word — notsogood. Without going into too much detail, it sucked.  I hate standardized tests. Hate them.  Really, really hate them.  They have so very little educational value, and the very core of my Teacher Being wants to rebel and take a stand!  But dangit – some of the best technology / literacy / education programs in the USA require me to take them just to get my foot in the door.  So I have relented, and scheduled another exam at the end of November.  I promise this time I’ll study for the math section, though I might need some help.  Hey, if nothing else, it’s an excuse to go to Bangkok for another weekend, just in time to do some Christmas shopping.

What’s next: Affirmations

I’ve spent the past three weeks simply trying to catch up and get into a routine.  And now, suddenly, it’s Autumn Break!  What a great time for pause and reflection.

Photo by h.koppdelaney
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My goals this year (even though we’re a quarter through already) involve even more focus on the integration of technology into my English classes to best reflect MYP philosophy.

I admit it: I am MYP FanGirl #1.  That doesn’t mean I don’t think the programme has its drawbacks and weaknesses — it most certainly does.  But I believe so strongly in it because it reflects much of what I know to be true as a teacher and learner that I unabashedly put my support behind it.  I definitely see myself growing even more within this educational framework, and I’ve been with it already for 7+ years.  I do not see my MYPness (yes, I said it ) waning any time soon.

I also will admit that technology has its drawbacks and weaknesses.  But it, too, is something that I believe strongly in because I recognize that our world is changing before us, and our students need to think differently than we did.  Like Einstein said, “We cannot solve problems using the same thinking we used when we created them.”  And so, at the heart of it all, I still believe that it’s not about the technology.  It’s about thinking and learning in different ways to make sense of the ever-changing world, and technology is a big part of the thinking, the learning, and certainly the change.

Where I’m going: Aspirations

So what’s down the road?

The more often I speak to other like-minded educators, the more often I am struck with this realization: the “making sense” part of our job is the same in every “schooly” subject area, and it almost always comes down to communication.

An abridged defintion of “communicate“:*

–verb (used with object)

1.	to impart knowledge of; make known: to communicate information; to communicate one’s happiness.

2.	to give to another; impart; transmit: to communicate a disease.

–verb (used without object)

5.	to give or interchange thoughts, feelings, information, or the like, by writing, speaking, etc.: They communicate with each other every day.

6.	to express thoughts, feelings, or information easily or effectively.

7.	to be joined or connected: The rooms communicated by means of a hallway.

Interestingly, the origin of this word is from the Latin, commūnicātus, ptp. of commūnicāre to impart, make common.

Photo by lumaxart
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What I’m dreaming of is this: a place where the finest, most important skills of communication — that is, those that involve the imparting of ideas and interchange of thoughts and feelings — are not only taught and fostered in an English (or Communications) course, but across every aspect of learning at every age, in every subject area.  (Will there even be a need for subject areas?  The world is so interconnected now; the idea of separating them feels so outdated to me.)

And that’s about as concrete as I can get at the moment.  It all starts with a vision, right?  I have no clear idea what this scenario would look like, sound like, or feel like, but I’m confident that if I continue down the path I’m currently on, the tangible will eventually accompany what is currently visceral.

I envision a time in the not-so-distant future where my current job (English teacher — that is, teacher of both English language and literature) is obsolete.  Instead, I see the language, literature, and tools of communication being delicate, abundant, and essential threads across learning of all kinds.

Where does it all leave me?

I’m just not sure yet!

———————–

*I’ve left out some definitions here that refer to archaic uses or the partaking of the Eucharist.

It’s a term, and nothing more. Here is what I think is most important: IT IS NOTHING NEW.

“edupunk is student-centered, resourceful, teacher- or community-created rather than corporate-sourced, and underwritten by a progressive political stance. . . . Edupunk, it seems, takes old-school Progressive educational tactics–hands-on learning that starts with the learner’s interests–and makes them relevant to today’s digital age, sometimes by forgoing digital technologies entirely.”

-definition provided by Stephen Downes

I have seen it discussed in flurries on Twitter. I have read Jim Groom’s original post, where he coined the term. I have followed some of my favorite bloggers’ posts about the term, and found some new ones, too. I saw a student’s take on it (insightful, as usual) and I have seen the much discussed stub on Wikipedia. I’ve done my research. I was even invited to share all the best “edupunk” ideas I use regularly (though I had to respectfully decline). I’ve seen all the hype and I just can’t shake the feeling that we have seen this all before.

With all respect to Andy Rush — I know, I know, maybe I shouldn’t take it all so seriously. After all, Jim Groom just seems like a crazy dude with a love for technology and learning. But here’s the thing: lots of other educators (and students) out there ARE taking it seriously. And it’s turning into a bunch of hoopla.

Good educators have been creating “student-centered, resourceful, teacher- or community-created rather than corporate-sourced” learning experiences for centuries. It is JUST GOOD PRACTICE. Let’s assume we are all well-read, well-versed educators who have studied the theory as well as had the experience. We have all read Piaget, Skinner, Postman, and Montessori. We have been teaching our students (maybe even through trial and error? God forbid!) and we have learned what works best. We know that “hands-on learning that starts with the learner’s interests–and makes them relevant” is the best — whether that includes digital technologies or not. So why do we need to label it something other than what it is already? It is already GOOD PRACTICE. To paraphrase Tina Turner (who definitely was not punk): What’s punk got to do with it?

I agree with Warlick when he says:

The term is important . . . because it associates with people’s images of themselves and what they do. . .

Edupunk as Portal comments, in reply to Stephen Downes

And although Warlick thinks it’s a good term because it gets people’s attention, we have to recognize that perhaps “punk” is not how all educators see themselves and what they do. This is, I think, what Mrs. Durff was getting at in her comment about it being a “distasteful” term. If I do all the things that are considered “edupunk,” why do I have to be called this? Can’t I just be called a creative teacher? I don’t feel “punk” and I don’t really want to be “punk,” for that matter. I just want to be a good (if not great) educator who does what’s best for her students and their learning.

Like Gardner Campbell, I am skeptical of this term. I agree with him when he says,

There was DIY long before punk, and long after.

Yes, it has sparked some interesting discussion, but will it change anything? David Gran thinks all this debate is furthering our understanding of eduators’ relationships to the global community via technology. I can’t agree with that. I think my understanding of relationships to and within the global community will continue to be fostered and developed without this misnomer. I fear this new term will be the measuring stick for our future educational endeavors. Will we be asking ourselves at every new lesson, assessment task, or faculty meeting, “Are we edupunk enough?” Do we really want this?

I can understand and take into consideration the true spirit that the term embodies, and I can see the creative vibes that it originated out of. That’s all fine and good — and perhaps Jim Groom never intended it to go this far. But I’ve already decided that I don’t really want the term “edupunk” to be how I am described as an educator, for reasons I’ve outlined above. Nevertheless, I do have a few genuine questions:

Insightful Question #1:

I have to wonder if the reason why this term gained such ground in the post-secondary edublogosphere is because post-secondary institutions traditionally have not been hotbeds of ultra-progressive, uber-hip, pedagogically sound teaching and learning. (FLASHBACK: I can count on one hand the number of professors I had who actually were good teachers. I distinctly recall one professor who gave entire lectures standing in one spot, reading from the textbook, pausing between pages to look at the ceiling — we all wondered if he was signalling to the mothership.)

This situation, that is the lack of effective teaching in universities, is of course changing. Many university professors are now actually (gasp!) certified teachers with B.Ed.s and the like. But I wonder how many university professors (outside of the Faculty of Education) have spent time in a kindergarten classroom? That’s where the REAL D.I.Y., hands-on, teaching and learning happens, ladies and gentlemen — we all have MUCH to learn from these very talented KG teachers, and I daresay more high school and university educators would benefit by spending some time in their classrooms.

Insightful Question #2:

If “edupunk” is anti-establishment and anti-corporation, does that mean a true Edupunk does not use any tools provided by large-scale companies? So does that mean no Google? no Flickr? no QuickTime? Alas – these are all tools provided by corporations. Does my using them mean I am succumbing to corporate interests? What about my association with and work for the IBO? They are a non-profit organization but still a recognized “brand.” Yet they are an organization that I believe represents learning needs and goals of students around the world, in the most open-minded way possible.

Image credits:

• Too much information by Violator3 licensed under CC 2.0.
• question con 3 by svilen001 under image license agreement.

[This post has been cross-posted at Pockets Of Change.]

I find this article from the New York Times slightly disturbing.

If you haven’t read it, please do — it is long, enlightening, and profiles one family in particular from Beijing who was able to send their daughter to university in Ohio. But if you don’t have time to read it, here are the basics:

1. Student overseas wants to go to American, Australian, Canadian, or UK university.
2. American, Australian, Canadian, and UK universities want students from overseas because
   • they pay way more tuition, and
   • it diversifies their school culture, and
   • they pay way more tuition, and… wait, I already said that.
3. So, Student pays X amount of USD to Agent to find him an appropriate university in the western world, and
4. American, Australian, Canadian, and UK universities pay Y amount of USD to same Agent to find them Z number of international students because
   • they pay way more tuition, and
   • it diversifies their school culture, and
   • did I mention that they pay way more tuition?
5. Agent finds appropriate fit, Student applies to University recommended by Agent, and is admitted.
6. Student happy (found tertiary educational direction), University happy ($$$ + cultural diversity = better learning?).
7. Agent happiest, because X + Y = BINGO.

The article states,

. . . [M]any agents collect hefty fees from both sides — the students they advise, and the universities they contract with — leaving some to question whose interest is being served . . .

To be fair, the next sentence implies that some people are working towards changing this perception:

Even some advocates of recruiting agents see a need for an ethics code.

And further,

“We should be doing this, but we should be doing it right,” said Mitch Leventhal, vice provost of international affairs at the University of Cincinnati, which has contracts with agents. “And I don’t think it’s right for students to have to pay a lot if the agent is also getting paid by the university. I don’t think it’s ethical.”

Umm, but you’re still doing it, aren’t you? Did the University of Cincinnati cut their contracts with the agents because Mr. Leventhal said it was unethical to pay them? (Note that the sentence above does not say if the University of Cincinnati pays the agents they have contracts with.)

At least one university representative thinks it is unethical and does not pay agents they have contracts with:

Throughout Asia and to a lesser extent other parts of the world, thousands of agents offer help to students seeking admission to an English-speaking university, charging them fees that may be a few hundred dollars, or far more. “Some agents charge as much as $30,000,” said John Robert Cryan of the University of Toledo, which works with agents, but pays no commissions. “There’s a lot of gouging going on.”

[emphasis mine]

Apparently, Mr. Leventhal (of the U of C, above) is an advocate of ethics in this field, but get this:

Mr. Leventhal is also advocating a code of ethics, modeled on Australian practice, under which American universities would pay agents a 10 percent commission, if the agents agreed to charge students only a nominal fee.

This is ethical? Am I missing something? Maybe an Aussie can explain it to me, as apparently this is Australian practice. To my mind, none of this is ethical. For students AND universities to pay for placement at “the right” university? Where does that leave the international (or local, for that matter) student who wants and rightly deserves a place in a university? Well, apparently, unless he has between $500 and $5000 US to spend — that leaves him nowhere.

On the last page of the article, Philip G. Altbach, director of the Center for International Higher Education at Boston College, is quoted as saying:

“In a globalized world, where some people need a lot of guidance to get here, there may be a legitimate place for responsible middlemen,” he said, then added, “although I really hate it.”

And I agree — perhaps there is a need for a middleman. But, but, but… here are my buts:

• Universities should NOT be paying them — what if instead they were simply “regular” university employees, out and about recruiting for their university as normal?
• Students should not have to pay them very much (like, less than $50), or even better nothing at all

Basically, I think that universities perhaps need to beef up their own recruitment practices, and aim to recruit international students the old-fashioned way — by making their university look like the best place to go, rather than by paying a middleman thousands of dollars.

Does anyone else think this is unethical? Or am I being too old-fashioned and curmudgeonly?

Whatever happened to open and honest application procedures? Whatever happened to applications requiring that the person with the best fit (based on grades, SAT scores, and whatever else the university deems necessary) gets in on his/ her own merit, rather than simply because he/she is from China and has thousands of dollars to spend?

Should people be making money from international students’ desire to go to university in the Western world?

So, I’ve been reading a few things about blogging. And I’ve been reading a few things about writing. And I’ve been reading a few things about both blogging and writing, and I’m starting to think I’m missing something. Or need clarification, at the very least.

I’m going to keep this philosophical, much like my assessment post a while back.

First, a question:

If (text-based)¹ blogging is a kind of writing, then aren’t all bloggers writers?

And now, the statements:

1. I (foolishly, perhaps) believe that all my students can become good writers² of some kind.
2. I therefore believe that all my students should try their hand at blogging, just as I believe all my students should try writing poetry, maybe a short story, a personal narrative, an e-mail, and oodles of other writing types.
3. I do not believe a great writing teacher needs to be a great writer; he / she simply needs to “know the ropes” and be great teacher, period.
4. I therefore believe a great blogging teacher does not need to be a “master blogger”, but that he / she just needs to know how it works, and be a great teacher, period.

And finally, more questions:

• Those of you out there who use blogs with your students, how do you use them?
• Do you assess them? If so, how?
• And if you don’t use blogs with your students, why not?

The background

I am changing (quite drastically) the way I use blogs with my students for the remainder of this school year, and next. And so, I’m looking for ideas and anecdotal feedback… errr.. feed-forward… from those who have walked this path before me.

¹Of course, the visual-types of blogs aren’t really writing, but a different kind of communication

²I define the term “good writer” as one who creates “good writing.” And for the definition of “good writing,” I turn to one of my most influential mentors in both teaching and writing, Carl Leggo, who once stated, “Good writing gets the job done. It works.” I should also note that I have different definitions of “great writing” and other comparative terms.

All this talk about writing, grade books, and “the unthinking habits of grading” has given me so much to think about. My mind is swimming.

The thing is, I think about this stuff all the time. It is only recently, after reading hoards of comments and postings (and all the bits in between) that I begin to understand my naivety. Or is it ignorance? (Hint: not everyone thinks about this stuff all the time.)

First, a bit of background, for the sake of context

I grew up in Calgary, Alberta, Canada and attended Catholic, publicly funded schools. The teachers I had, with two notable exceptions¹, all used criterion-referenced assessment to grade my work. I always (other than with the two notable exceptions) knew how I was being graded, even if they did average my scores and turn them into percentages. I graduated from an unusual work-at-your-own-pace high school in 1992.²

After completing an English Lit degree on the West coast, I entered Education. I did not realize at the time (1997) that the program I was in was progressive compared to most Ed programs out there. Thinking, ignorantly, that what I learned was what all teachers-to-be learned, I eagerly entered the world of K-12 education, armed with what I thought was Everything A Beginning Teacher Should Know.

One Epiphany (of many)

Fast-forward to 2001: I entered the realm of international education, working at an MYP school. Before this moment, what I knew about MYP could have filled an ant’s mouth. Sitting in an MYP training session, my then-mentor flashed the subject-specific criteria for Language A (MYP’s equivalent to English Language Arts) on a projector screen.

Thought #1: “Hey, that’s cool! That’s the same criteria my grade 7 teacher used to grade my writing, and it’s the same criteria I have always used to assess student work.”

[insert hmms and haws of other training participants here, as they ponder the criteria on the screen]

Thought #2: “Wait… doesn’t everyone use this?”

It wasn’t long after Thought #2 occurred that I learned the answer: No, not everyone is using this. Plenty of conversation and interaction with my then-colleagues (from various backgrounds in education, as expected in an international setting) taught me that what I had taken for granted my entire (short) life was indeed not “the norm.”

The Interim and a Confession

Over the past 7 years, plenty more colleagues, students, and their parents have shown me that other ways of assessing are indeed rife and plentiful. Just yesterday I engaged in three different conversations with three different families about this very topic (parent conferences were timely). Witness a verbatim quote from one of those discussions:

“Wow, this is so different from what we’re used to. You mean you want your students to come show you their work before they finish? You won’t take points off?”

[I won't even get into the connotations implied by the use of the words "want", "before", and "points."]

Don’t get me wrong — I do not think the same way about this issue as I did 10 or even 3 years ago. I have learned more than I can express on this small page about how to assess meaningfully. I have spent many, many teacher days fantasizing about not assessing at all, and like Dana Huff, I still have those days. I am guilty, in past years, of assigning my students the most boring five-paragraph essay you’ve ever read, just so I could be bored to death reading it and they could be bored to death writing it.

A Question … and Answers?

I have offered some of my thoughts about assessment before — indeed, the reason I initially began this blog was to reflect on what I was learning in an IBO PD course on MYP Objectives and Assessment. Now, having learned so much, I feel my philosophy of assessment is still evolving, and I do think long and hard about why I assess my students’ work and how I do it.

(And, please know that I mention MYP only because I feel it is one of the best educational systems out there for student learning. Is it the only one? No. Are there others that do the same? Yes. Is it just about best practice? Yes.)

So here’s the thing: I know there are other methods of assessment. I know about them well enough because I took the required courses in university, and I have seen them used in classrooms. But here’s what I still don’t understand — and please don’t mistake this for a rhetorical question:

Why are we still using them? (Do they facilitate learning?)

I’m starting, today, with just this question about criterion-referenced assessment, but know that I’m not limiting my thoughts to only this aspect of assessment. I anticipate that those thoughts — and more questions — will follow as my assessment philosophy further evolves.

Mid-evolution

So far, here is what I believe. Assessment is…

• primarily for learning; the assessment of learning is secondary.
• real and not “fabricated” just to put a number on a paper or in a box.
• goal-focused, and those goals should be based on where the students are at in their learning.
• varied, with a wide variety of opportunities given for students to reach their goals.
• frequent and woven into every aspect of what we do, while we are learning. (I am uncomfortable with the thought of students being either too excited or filled with dread at the mention of assessment; I want my students to see assessment as something we do all the time.)
• part of the natural learning process, not something tacked onto the end.
• not driven by reporting terms, boxes that need to be filled, administrative software, or any other nonsense that has nothing to do with the learner.
• applied when needed for learning, and not at calendar dates specified a year in advance.

¹Okay, so really it was three notable exceptions. And they were notable because they were exceptionally bad teachers. I’m not naming names, it’s water under the bridge, yadda-yadda-yadda — and the truth is I learned many life lessons from these poor teachers.

²The dates are important, because I refuse to believe that the concept of criterion-referenced assessment is “new” and “progressive“. The dates, although applicable only to my personal experience and not bodies of research, further give credence to my personal belief that education is painfully, mind-bogglingly slow to change.

Photo Credits: Nice Hat by cwalkatron; Question mark by Leo Reynolds

I follow Clay Burell’s blog and found myself really interested in what he has been saying about teaching Lolita.  And then I saw that he had responded to this meme, originating from Paul C at quoteflections, and the whole thing sounded pretty cool to me.  I’m especially intrigued by Clay’s situation because he is (currently) teaching within the context of an AP English course.  I have never taught AP, and never will — let that be said now.  I have, however, taught English A1 at the IB Diploma level and although I am not teaching it currently*, I know how frustrating it can be to put together a course syllabus that meets all the requirements of an outside body.  I do think that DP English A1 is broader and more open than AP is, but I digress.  Back to the meat of the meme…

The rules: 

• Select and briefly review one teen novel, classic or modern, which is a sure antidote to the daze of high school.
• Title your post Meme: High School Daze to Praise.
• Include an image with your post.
• Tag four blogger colleagues

Sex, Religion, and Other Juicy Bits

The novel I have chosen is not a classic, and is not really modern either, as it has been around for quite a while.  Robert Cormier’s The Chocolate War was published in 1974 and has all the issues you’re “not supposed to talk about” in the classroom:  covert bullying, the pitfalls of organized religion and its leaders, secret societies, sex, masturbation, and violence.  A quick Google Search will tell you how many schools and school districts have banned this book due to its “sensitive content.”

If you haven’t read it, a nutshell summary is this:  Jerry, who is new to Trinity High School, slowly uncovers the secret society at the school called The Vigils — headed by a guy named Archie and supported and overseen by the headmaster-in-waiting, the evil Brother Leon.  Through a series of “assignments,” The Vigils bully and make life miserable for everyone at Trinity, gaining more power as they do so.  Brother Leon gains their support to sell chocolates as a school fundraiser. The clincher is when the Vigils give an assignment to Jerry to refuse to sell chocolates for ten days but then accept after ten days.  Jerry continues to refuse to sell chocolates and mayhem ensues as Jerry grapples with his own answer to the question hanging in his locker, “Do I Dare Disturb The Universe?” (which is from T.S. Eliot’s poem, “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”).

The novel deals with several “OMG!” adolescent issues — conformity, raising your voice against the status quo, challenging authority, and many, many more.  One chapter is entirely a description of a masturbation scene — a chapter which turned many heads when I taught this novel a few years ago in the UK.  (If I remember correctly, parents had no qualms about anything being taught in my classroom until “that chapter” and suddenly the e-mails started pouring in.)

And that’s my contribution to the high-school daze antidote.  This novel probably sits best at about grade 9 level, but could easily be given to some mature 8th graders or struggling 10th graders.

And now, the tag:  Clint Hamada, Morten Oddvik over at Mortempo, Alanna Shaikh at Blood and Milk (am hoping for a developmental-world perspective!), and Kevin Gamble over at High Touch… and you know what?  None of these people are English Lit teachers! 

*Currently I am teaching only within an MYP context, because I love the quirkiness of Middle-Schoolers and I often feel they get left out of the bigger world of K-12 education. 

Photo credit:  nicolevity

My reports were due this morning at 8:30.  They’re not done.  And they probably won’t be until Monday.  There, that’s my confession.  Actually, I’m not feeling any guilt about this but it is surprising how many teachers I’ve mentioned this to in the last 24 hours who have responded with a gasp of surprise.

“Really?  When are you gonna do them?”

The truth is I will probably get them all done this weekend, but not because I think they should be done this weekend.  I’ll get them done this weekend because someone is telling me they have to get done.  And thus, I must ask, Is this a good reason to write reports?  Just because they “have to be done”?  We are writing them because it is an appropriate time for the organization (i.e., the school) but is it an appropriate time for our students?

Fact:  right now, on this date, is not an appropriate time for me to be giving grades for every student.  Some kids are having difficulty figuring out what’s been happening in our new unit.  Others are right smack-dab in the middle of a major autobiographical writing assignment.  And others have hardly given me enough evidence for me to arrive at a grade.

About a month ago I was considering sending home a handful (maybe 10) progress reports on some of my students — some reporting good news, others reporting the not-so-good, or some changes.  I was warned that a progress report, because it goes into the students’ permanent file, was “too serious” for reporting on some of the things that I had wanted to say.  Too serious?  So, like, where should I report it, then? 

Option A: wait until the quarter report (i.e., now)

Option B: send an e-mail / call parents (less formal, just a heads-up but not “written in stone”)

Option C: write the report anyway

I chose Option C, primarily because I felt that at that moment was the appropriate time to let parents know how their child was doing. 

So now I have all this marking and reporting looming in front of me, and I’m sad that all of it is just to arrive at a number to go in a box on a piece of paper.  There are days that I fantasize about teaching and learning without formal assessment.  I know it’s completely unrealistic and that learning must be guided by assessment (I KNOW this), but sometimes I like to fantasize.  Can you forgive this Piscean dreamer teacher?

 And on that note, I will now immerse myself in Twelfth Night stage ideas (pretty funny), original short stories (some funny, some sad, most good), and drawings of Roald Dahl characters (absolutely hilarious).  At least it will be interesting!

Having just returned from two back-to-back trips, I am now in contemplative mode before the craziness of the school week sets in. Trip 1: a conference for international educators in the East-Asia region. Trip 2: a vacation on the wonderful island of Bali, a paradise for so many reasons. (I will stop there lest I begin to wax lyrical about this inspiring land, as I realize plenty of others have already done this, so I really don’t need to. Plus, it could honestly take up another blog site altogether. Or a book, even.)

Trip 1 gave me plenty of insight into the world of education, particularly international education, and was a good “refresher” of both the positives and the negatives about being in this world.

Positives:

• There are some super cool things going on out there, for lack of better wording (and, well, it’s late here in Hanoi, and I’m bone-tired). Cool things like Jeff Utecht’s talk about the movement of connectivism and such. I hope lots of teachers — and administrators to boot — were paying attention to him, particularly to his bits focused on the philosophy and theory rather than the nuts-and-bolts of RSS. While both are useful and necessary, the former is more revolutionary to the world of education than the latter, I believe.
• There are some super cool people out there, and lots of them happen to be educators. I know lots of other super cool people too, and have found myself wondering why they aren’t educators, too. Hmmm…
• I’m happy to see a dynamic duo coming together, even if in name rather than philosophy. I’m talking here about the IBO and EARCOS. Too often organizations like EARCOS seem (to me, at least) so overly focused on American schools overseas, which most IB schools are not. Props to both organizations for coming together.

Negatives:

• Sadly, there are still too many educators who are teaching in traditional classrooms. I went to at least 5-too-many sessions led by professionals (many who have been in education longer than I have been alive, and I’m 33) who think about school as a place where students sit within 4 walls and at desks. When can we move away from this?
• There are also a number of educators, from all backgrounds, ages, and disciplines, who think that all this “IT stuff” is about technology. There were a few tense moments for me when I wanted to jump up and shout, amongst 45 or so of my peers, “It’s not about the technology!” but I refrained, mostly because I am just tired of explaining it to those who don’t get it.
• The staff at the Shangri-La had a difficult time remembering that I was actually staying in room 303. I was beginning to think that no one ever stayed in that room, or that it did not exist, or perhaps only existed in some strange 5-star hotel bad-karma vortex. Long story, but it was a pain in the neck.

Trip 2 – oh, there is always plenty of insight to be had when one is on vacation, isn’t there? I won’t share it all with you, as most of it is journalled anyway, but I will share one particularly intriguing and relevant find:

The Green School.

I am really intrigued by this school. I have to admit, at first I was skeptical, thinking it was just another international school start-up by some over-zealous businessman. My partner showed me the advertisement in an edition of the Bali Advertiser, and I kind of shrugged it off at first. But he persisted, and upon our return to Hanoi, urged me to check out their website.

WOW.

I am rather floored, to be honest. And I was so very wrong! What a wonderful, innovative, forward-thinking and un-school-ish idea they have for their sustainable, eco-conscious, whole-child oriented school. Their school is definitely on my watch list, and I daresay that I would love to stop by and visit the next time I am in Bali. They have a unique vision and philosophy, one that I dearly hope more schools latch on to, and not just by lip service. I imagine this school would be a wonderful place to work, learn, and experience all around. Props to the Hardys of Bali!

And on that note, I will end this post as I continue to contemplate the future, education, and my place within all of it. Hopefully it won’t keep me awake at night, as I have a busy first-day-back-post-Spring Break tomorrow…

I’m all about using reflection — it’s a huge part of the learning process.  But when my course content says this:

Ongoing reflection task:

Which approaches to learning (ATL) skills are you using as you complete this workshop?As you progress through this professional development workshop reflect upon the impact this planning task had on you as a learner and relate this to the activities that your students will be undertaking.

… I gotta admit, I’m thinking:  For real?

The AtL that I am using are the same ones I have honed over years of being a student and a teacher.  I’m managing my time. I’m meeting deadlines.  I’m reading.  I’m using IT.  I’m doing research.  I’m reflecting.  Isn’t there some kind of assumption that I know how to do these things already, considering I have made it this far as a teacher, and as a professional — 10 years’ experience, two degrees, and lots of students who are learning?  How does planning impact me as a learner?  Um.  If I don’t plan, I don’t usually get things done.  It’s really that simple.

Am I missing something here?  Is it not this obvious to other people?  I mean, seriously. For real?

Hi all!

Well, this is not my first blogging attempt (actually it is my 3rd or 4th), but this blog definitely has a different purpose than my other two.*  I’m planning to use this blog for many things, but right now, it’s going to start off as an area for reflection about the current MYP online course I am taking, Objectives and Assessment.  This course aims to:

• explain to participants the MYP principles behind the objectives and assessment criteria
• identify MYP requirements on the use and development of objectives and assessment criteria
• provide opportunities for participants to discuss, clarify, and document how they may need to adapt their policies, structures, and procedures to meet the MYP requirements

Ok, so Task 1 tells me I have to reflect on the outcome of each module, are a lot (and I won’t post them all here).  So.  Here are my thoughts…

I think analyzing my own school’s curriculum content, with respect to objectives, is going to provide me with some interesting professional learning.  Actually, I’m slightly afraid at what I might uncover.  It might be daunting to have to A) go “in” there and sort it all out, and then B) communicate this to others.  Eeek.  I have never been good at being diplomatic.

I’m curious as to what is meant by “interim objectives”.  But I’m really looking forward to seeing (and understanding) how the objectives and criteria will relate to assessment methods and tasks — in fact, this is probably where the bulk of my interest rests.  I am less concerned with the “stuff behind the screen” than I am with the actual hard-core results it will provide our student learners.

*I used to write a detailed blog about literacy, but it became way too much for one person (me!) to handle.  It still sits… waiting… to… die…   I also contribute regularly to an internal blog at UNIS Hanoi, where I currently teach.