General media comparisons and studies pertaining to their overall instructional impact have yielded little that warrants optimism. Even in the few cases where dramatic changes in achievement or ability were found to result from the introduction of a medium such as television, . . . it was not the medium per se that caused the change, but rather the curricular reform that its introduction enabled.
This is why, in my opinion, the state of education is so sucky today. Our (educators’) use of technology for learning is hampered by the glass ceiling of curriculum. Only when the curriculum changes will dramatic changes in learning occur. Currently, too many schools are trying to fit square pegs into round holes; that is, teachers are using fabulous technology (IWBs, Tablet PCs, iPod Touch, VoiceThread, and more) to teach curriculum that is still content-based.
These technologies should be reforming curriculum. Why aren’t they?
How can we move this forward? How can we change curricula so that it allows teachers and students “dramatic change”? What is standing in the way, and how can we overcome this obstacle?
Clark, R.E., & Salomon, G. (1986). Media in teaching. In M. Wittrock (Ed.), Handbook of Research on Teaching (3rd ed., pp.464-478). New York: Macmillan.
I’ve just finished reading a whole whack of stuff about the history of constructivism and constructionism in educational theories. Fascinating. But in it all, I came across a gem of a reference that helps (I think) support my point in an argument with Dennis Harter about the IB Learner Profile. To sum up, our Twitter discussion was about whether the IB Learner Profile adequately covers the area of collaboration. Dennis thinks it doesn’t; he feels that it should be a separate attribute in the Learner Profile. I, however, think it is adequately covered under Communication. I think this because communication does not exist in a vacuum. To be an effective Communicator, you must know how to work with others effectively. To me, the terms “communicator” and “collaborator” are NOT mutually exclusive. You cannot be one without being the other.
So, I was reading a chapter from Psychology of Learning for Instruction by M.P. Driscoll (2005), and came across a cross-reference to some research done by Roy Pea (1994) and Edelson, Pea, and Gomez (1995). I looked up the article (PDF) by Pea, Edelson, and Gomez, “Constructivism in the Collaboratory,” which describes how the authors set up a learning environment based on constructivist theories which allows learners to collaborate in an open-ended investigation. Here is the quote that got me; it is from the conclusion:
The collaboration tools enable students to engage in this scientific practice in a social context that includes other students, teachers, and scientists. The resulting social interactions enhance the learning that students achieve through the transformative process of communication. (p.16)
Basically, the authors are concluding that collaboration enables social interactions, and these interactions — and therefore the collaborative efforts — are achieved via communication. So, one cannot be collaborative without communicating effectively. Communication is essential to collaboration, and can not be achieved in any way other than via communication.
Roy Pea, in his article (PDF) about how multimedia (specifically computer-supported collaborative learning, or CSCL) can help or transform communication between learners, comes to a similar conclusion earlier. His article is about how the complex construction of CSCL needs to be re-thought in light of new ways of communication. He says, about communication in relationship to collaborative processes:
I therefore propose describing this third view of communication as transformative. The initiate in new ways of thinking and knowing in education and learning practices is transformed by the process of communication with the cultural messages of others, but so, too, is the other (whether teacher or peer) in what is learned about the unique voice and understanding of the initiate. (p.288)
What to make of all of this? I would posit that recent research suggests that communciation is an essential part of collaboration: communication changes the way we collaborate. It cannot be separated from it, and therefore the IB Learner Profile is justified in applying these two domains together.
Works cited:
Edelson, D.C., Pea, R., and Gomez, L. (1995) Constructivism in the Collaboratory. In B.G. Wilson (1995) Constructivist Learning Environments: Case Studies in instructional design. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Educational Technology Publications.
Pea, R. (1994). Seeing What We Build Together: Distributed Multimedia Learning Environments for Transformative Communications. In Journal of the Learning Sciences, pp. 285-299.
This post is the first of several as part of a Design Journal for a class I am taking in Representation and Interaction Design (E19.2015) as part of the ECT Program at NYU Steinhardt.
Please note that I include some bibliographic notes only as a courtesy and reference; this is by no means a properly annotated or formatted bibliography, though it is possible it will evolve as such.
Our first week’s readings were:
Hall, Stuart. “Representation, Meaning, and Language.” (excerpt)
Robert E. Horn. “Information Design: Emergence of a New Profession.” (from Jacobson, R.E. (ed.), Information Design)
Plass and Salisbury. “A Living-Systems Design Model for Web-Based Knowledge Management Systems.” (from ETR&D, Volume 50, No. 1, 2002)
First: Hall’s article. I have read selections from this text previously, though it has been several years. This kind of stuff fascinates me. It is one of the primary reasons I love teaching and learning languages. I love also that it is so abstract and philosophical — about how language and visuals construct meaning, but that it is conceptually created by the system of representation. There is a very strong argument here for teaching visual and spatial literacy skills alongside traditional textual literacy; any teacher who feels reading/writing is more important than other language strands must read Hall. Additionally, this is so crucial to understanding when setting out to design anything for learning purposes: the context of the culture, the meaning, the representation, and the language. They all work together (or against one another, at times). In a multicultural society, this makes design difficult, because meaning can never be fixed. No wonder countries like Finland have the “top-rated” educational systems; they are designing learning materials for a largely homogeneous society.
“Language can never be a wholly private game.”p.25
I LOVE this quote! The essence of language — and of communication — is that we share these representations and codes.
“This means that our private thoughts have to negotiate with all the other meanings for words or images which have been stored in language which our use of the language system will inevitably trigger into action.” p.25
Sit and think about that for a moment. To simply exist in the world, we must “negotiate” an understanding with others via words, images, and representation. That is a heavy-duty task, which we do without thinking on a daily basis.
I wonder how much better communicators we would all be if we were conscious of this challenge in each moment?*
The constructivist view of representation is also the reason, in my opinion, why things like poetry, music, and art are so beautiful — the meaning constructed at the “other” end (ie., the reader/listener/viewers’s end) is so unique. It is also the basis for the Reader Response instructional technique / philosophy in literature instruction — that there is no right answer. And, it links neatly to another reading from this week, from a different course: that of Paulo Freire’s objection to the “banking” concept of education. Learners are not receptacles to be filled: we want them to make their own meaning.
Horn’s article was also interesting, but mostly because this is an aspect I know little about. Thus, it was a great introduction to Information Design, a relatively new “profession” and niche. I had no idea that the UK was (is?) a leader in terms of resources and development in Information Design, so this was interesting to read about. Again, I found a strong argument for teaching of visual and textual literacy in Horn’s article when he discusses Structured Writing:
“Structured writing . . . is foundational to some areas of information design. It provides a systematic way of analyzing any subject matter to be conveyed in a written document.” p. 23
Thus, the importance of learning how to organize and arrange information: it is a crucial skill in any kind of analysis. The section on p. 24 about iconic signage was also interesting (another argument for visual literacy in schools), particularly the study of international symbols. I especially think this quote is relevant:
“To create a true linguistics of visual language we need new concepts that focus on how words and images work together.” p. 28
But most interesting was the final conclusion, in which Horn basically says that this profession is still evolving. Huh. It is still evolving 10 years after the publication of this article!
The Plass / Salisbury article was the least interesting to me because it was so technical, and in the end I felt like the conclusions were a no-brainer to me, and therefore somewhat of a disappointment. Not that I think their research & development of the living-systems model is not important — it most certainly is. But their conclusion — that a design cycle to create an instructional knowledge management system works best when there is constant evaluation and regulation by participants — is pretty much a given when you come from an educational background like I do. Of course a system of learning works better when the students have a part of it. Of course a system of learning works better when you are constantly asking the question, “How’s it going?” and “What can we do better?” and then actually implementing the suggestions. To me, it is all summed up in the final sentence:
“The living-systems approach we described in this article aims to support the development of environments that not only allow individuals to regulate their learning process, but that indeed grow and change in order to accommodate learners’ needs.” p.54
I recognize that designing and implementing an instructional tool (particularly a web-based one) to do this may not be easy. Heck, judging from the lengthy process that Plass & Salisbury describe (approximately 20 pages), I have to surmise that it is major task. I get that. But in the field of education, the conclusion stated above is really old news and something that educators try to do daily — particularly if they agree in any way with philosophers like Freire.
On a related note, I was quite pleased to notice distinct similarities between the design cycle that Plass / Salisbury come up with:
* As I read articles in this course, I am continuing to find many theories and ideas that are philosophical in nature. I am constantly reminded of Buddhist and other philosophical thoughts (for example, Sikhism, and various other yogic philosophies). I often wonder if I should create a separate blog just about those links. It truly is fascinating, especially when you get even further into studies of cognitive behavioural therapy and cognitive sciences in general.
I was reading a recent post on Bridging Differences about assessment, and in particular, testing. I respect Deborah Meier and Diane Ravitch greatly, and will take a short minute first to say that if you’re an educator and you don’t follow their epistolary-style blog, you really should. Anyway, the post is about testing and the need for data in schools. Deborah talks about how to address the “data problem” and how teachers can (and should) avoid turning their classrooms into testing settings.
070305 by COCOEN daily photos
Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike License
I always read posts like these with only half-interest, I must admit. Why? Because I am philsophically opposed to standardized testing, particularly as it is used in American schools. Where I am from (Canada), standardized tests are linked directly to curriculum and used in an entirely different manner. I had no idea what US-style standardized tests were about until I moved overseas and began having conversations with my American colleagues. They later took on a whole new meaning for me when I had to write one myself: the GRE was required for applying to my top choice graduate schools. Ugh! I learned very quickly in my preparation that these kinds of standardized tests have nothing whatsoever to do with teaching and learning.
I’ve been lucky, I guess, that I’ve also never had to teach in a school where standardized testing has been emphasized. In Canada, my students wrote mandatory government exams in grades 3, 6, 9, and 12 (or 4, 7, and 10, and 12 in B.C.) — but again, these are always connected to the provincial curriculum. And my students wrote the Canadian Achievement Tests in grade 7, but schools never used this to “pin” teachers. In fact, such tests (in my experience) were never about the teachers at all. Schools I taught in used the CAT to help identify students who might need learning support, or a gifted & talented program. And such is the way international schools I have worked in have used standardized tests like the ITBS and the ISA.
slide.012-002 by keepps
Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike License
Internationally, I have only ever taught at MYP schools. And this comment, left on the Bridging Differences post I mention above, is one of the reasons why:
To get the kind of reliabillity that a multiple choice test delivers, the kids would have to spend a week to answer all the open-ended response questions, rather than the hour or two that the multiple choice test takes.
The writer of this comment, ceolaf (who leaves no URL with his/her comment), wrote a lengthy explanation as to why we need, whether we like them or not, some kind of standardized test because of the reliability issue. He further states:
The failure of THOSE tests that we hate does not in any way prove the superiority of our assessments. Our assessments have their own flaws.
I have two things to say in response to these two bits:
I beg to differ. And,
This is why I love MYP.
MYP assessment, while certainly not perfect, is doing exactly what the ceolaf’s first comment implies: they are project-based, for the most part, and so they DO have that kind of reliability. Our students are taking a week (if not longer) to “answer” (I prefer the word “respond to”) oodles of open-ended questions. Further, they are criterion-referenced, with specific descriptors for each criterion and each task so that the student knows exactly where s/he fits on the achievement level. And, as if that’s not enough — in MYP, nosingle assessment is an indicator of a student’s achievement! As teachers, we must see multiple pieces of evidence before we can report on a student’s achievement.
Image by in da mood
Attribution-NonCommercial License
Lest you start thinking, “Wait a minute. So the teachers are doing everything? Doesn’t that make it unreliable?” allow me to go on. In MYP, although teachers are adapting given criteria (set out in each subject guide) to be grade-specific and task-specific, we are not left to our own devices, so to speak, to assess our students randomly or unchecked. About two-thirds of the way through each school year, we send our Grade 10 work (Grade 10 is the last year of MYP, year 5 of MYP) to be moderated by a complete stranger, also an educator, somewhere else in the world. The moderator’s job: to make sure that the assessments we are doing, as teachers, is in-line with the standards set by the IBO world-wide.
Of course, all of what I’ve said above is really the nutshell version. It’s slightly more complicated than what I’ve described here (yes, there is paperwork and there are discussions, and more), but this is the quick-and-dirty explanation that basically emphasizes one of the many reasons I love MYP: We assess for learning, and of learning, and in ways that *are* reliable but don’t rely on tests! And that is completely in-line with my philosophy.
Just over a week ago, I had the pleasure of visiting Green School. Green School is a new educational venture in Bali, Indonesia, and is the vision of John and Cynthia Hardy (yes, that’s John Hardy of John Hardy designs). If you don’t know anything about Green School, know this: it is a school with an ambitious and idealistic mission and vision. It is really worth checking out their website if you’ve not done so before, as my post will not go into background, history, or other details about the school. If nothing else, watch this 3 minute video, which succinctly shows the vision behind the school:
I have written about the Green School on this blog before, but back then I was writing about a desire to visit and a missed opportunity. Shortly after that post, then-director Brad Choyt sent me a kind e-mail inviting me to visit the next time I was in Bali. Green School also graciously posted a link to my blog on their website, an act I sincerely appreciate. I stayed in touch with Mr. Choyt since then, and so when I knew I was going to be in Bali for a yoga retreat, I sent him an e-mail. He responded immediately and plans were made with the Admissions Manager to arrange my visit.
January 9th arrived and I made my way out to Green School with a new friend* from my yoga retreat. Ami, the Admissions Manager I had arranged the appointment with, met us at the parking lot. She was friendly, inviting, knowledgeable, and accommodating. Our tour began on the west side of the campus and ended on the east side – the campus is divided into east and west, separated by the gorgeous Ayung river. It’s a beautiful eco-friendly campus filled with unique and sustainable ideas for living: compost toilets, hydropower, permaculture, you get the idea.
I’m not going to write about what the campus looks like, what they’re doing there, or why they’re doing it: you can find out all of those things by visiting their website and doing some quick Google searches. But I will highlight some of my biggest highlights, insights, and concerns. It was a pleasant, educational, and insightful visit. Keep in mind as you read that I approached this visit not only from a holistic educational perspective, but also from an experiential teaching-learning perspective; I frequently asked myself, “How would I teach if I worked here?” Please also keep in mind that this post is not intended to “report” on Green School’s progress in any way. My purpose is to share what I saw and experienced in my first visit (hopefully of many) to Green School, and to share what were for me some of the highlights, insights, and some of the Big Questions I have had since returning to Hanoi.
Sustainable Structures, Sustainable Living and Learning
One of the first questions I asked Ami was about the unusual structures we had seen upon driving into campus – what looked like giant bamboo yurts. She informed me that they were indeed bamboo yurts, and were staff and faculty housing. Whoa! Now that is something I had not seen before. I really wanted to go back and take photos, but couldn’t – staff were on vacation and had not been informed that a visitor would be around taking photos, so it was a no-go. However, upon returning to Hanoi, I have discovered that theflattestcat has photos of these yurts posted both on an old blog and his Flickr photostream, so go check ‘em out. (They’re not licensed under CC, so I can’t reproduce them here.)
Green School classrooms are… well, they’re not classrooms in the traditional sense. However, they’re not classrooms in the metaphorical The-World-Is-Your-Classroom sense, either. They are somewhere in between. Made of bamboo and hardened mud, they are essentially covered open-air structures, each with a cooling space. They have fans, blackboards (yes), desks, shelves, cubby spaces for storage, and more. Green School also has wireless all over campus including classrooms.
While all of this – housing, classrooms, offices made of bamboo and mud — looks really cool and I love the idea of a structure made from sustainable materials, it raises practical and logistical issues:
Where does one keep resources? From what I could see, the school is not yet well-resourced (they don’t yet have a library, and Ami told me that currently each teacher keeps a classroom library). Granted this is their first year in operation, so I suppose this is to be expected. But I’m wondering, if teachers are creating or bringing in resources – books, instruments, costumes, posters, puppets – where on earth do they store them so that they do not get destroyed by the elements? Obviously, keeping them in your classroom isn’t the best idea, and if you’re living in a yurt… It just seems to me that no matter what, your stuff is going to be a victim of earth, air, and water. Perhaps this is what Green School wants – for teachers to think completely differently about the way they use resources. And, this is great. I just wonder how that works, particularly for the upper grades (Green School currently only goes up to Year/Grade 8). Yet, according to the Year 7/8 classroom blog, they are studying The Giver and using novel study packages. So where are they keeping all these books so that they don’t get eaten my mould? How will they stop those study package pages from turning yellow? And a bigger question – why are they using study packages? But wait – I’ll get to that question later.
Where are things like music, drama, and P.E. taught? Are they entirely outdoors as well? I presume that given the philosophy of Green School, such activities are integrated into regular classroom activities. But even when done this way, these activities require special spaces, and I did not see much in the way of compensation for this while at Green School, other than the soccer pitch and the Mepantigan Center.
How economically practical are these structures? First, a disclaimer: I know very little about the economics of sustainable building materials and energy costs, so what I’m about to say might just sound — well, ridiculous. I’m hoping someone will leave a comment about this particular concern to educate me a bit. Ami told us that the hydropower costs $15,000USD per classroom. Admittedly, I realize now I made unclear notes and I know absolutely nothing about “regular” energy costs in a school; I did not ask her if that was per year, per month, or per week. Let’s assume that it’s per year – is that a feasible amount to spend on energy per year? Honestly, I have no idea. It sounds like a lot to me, but I suppose that is the drawback of using sustainable, renewable, and eco-friendly resources. This is really not my area of expertise; call me curious with a healthy dose of skeptical. Ami also told us that the upkeep of the bamboo structures is really expensive – they must be cleaned regularly due to the exposure to the elements.
For how long will classes be combined? Currently there are two grade levels per class (Year 1-2, 3-4, etc.). I suspect this is simply because of low student numbers at the moment (current enrolment is at 103 from PK-8). But is it feasible for this to continue? When curriculum is articulated clearly, teaching mixed grades can be a challenge. Not insurmountable, but certainly a challenge. I have mixed feelings about this issue.
Technology and the 21st Century
With a wireless campus, I would expect to see technology everywhere. Not so at Green School. The only technology I saw was in the business and administration offices. When I asked about this, I was told that students are encouraged to bring their own laptops. “Great!” I thought, initially. But now, having thought about it more, I wonder about how effective this system actually is. It reminds me of a post Julie Lindsay wrote back in October, asking what model schools use when implementing 1:1 programs. This option, “a student-purchased environment” only truly works when all students’ families can afford to purchase the technology. At Green School, I wonder about 20% of the student population — Balinese students who are there on scholarships. Who pays for their laptops?
I also did not see any projector screens or speakers in any of the classrooms I visited. I was told that these are available when teachers need them. It is worth considering that technology in general was likely not out in the open in classrooms because school was currently on break, and leaving it out obviously exposes it to the elements. However, it did make me think about use of technology at Green School and allowed me to reflect upon how I use technology for learning. Considering I use both audio and video in my current classroom on a daily basis, I had difficulty imagining how I would cope without regular access to them. Teaching and learning would change dramatically, and I’m not sure it would be for the better. Even when not all my students have laptops, these two pieces of equipment, when attached to my laptop, enable learning for all students, via visual stimuli such as video, text, and other images.
The issue of how to combine sustainable living and technology in a learning environment is perhaps the biggest challenge to any school. Green School looks like it is committed to tackle this challenge, but I’m not sure it has happened upon any real solutions yet.
Leadership
I must admit I suffer from a bit of Red Flag Syndrome in this area. It was strange, to say the least, that the director I had been in contact with until a few weeks before my arrival, Brad Choyt, was not the director I met when I arrived at Green School. Indeed, I was told almost immediately upon arriving that Brad Choyt was no longer director and that he “finished his contract” in December 2008. This surprised for a couple of reasons:
I subscribe to Green School’s newsletters, and there had been no mention whatsoever of a leadership change. Upon my return to Hanoi, however, the most recent newsletter (January 16th) was signed by the new director and contained a link to CNN’s feature on Green School. (A very cool video – go watch it; I can’t embed it here for copyright reasons.)
Green School’s website also does not indicate any kind of leadership change announcement. At least, I couldn’t find one – perhaps it’s there embedded somewhere and I missed it.
Of course, any time an organization has a quick and unannounced leadership change, there is cause for eyebrows to be raised. This is no exception. I did, however, have the pleasure of meeting the new director, Ronald Stones. We chatted briefly – maybe 10 minutes – about his new position at Green School and he seemed clearly excited, even if somewhat overwhelmed, by the unique challenges ahead of him. He is a warm gentleman, clearly knowledgeable in the area of international education and has the background to prove it. Of course, the international teaching community is small and we quickly discovered that we have mutual acquaintances and colleagues.
My first impressions of Mr. Stones were very positive, though our conversation did raise another issue which for me is, as my grandmother would say, a real doozy.
Curriculum
This is perhaps where my greatest concerns lie. While sustainability and technology issues are concrete and ultimately solvable with creative thinking, the issue of curriculum (and its blood-brother, assessment) is a monster much more dense.
Being from a primarily IB World School background (UNIS is the third IB World School I have taught at in the past 8 years), and in particular an MYP specialist, one of the first questions I had for Mr. Stones was about curriculum. I have spent much time on Green School’s website, since my last post about them and I love the philosophy statements written on their curriculum page; they reference both Waldorf-Steiner and IB curricula philosophies. Being curious, in September 2008 I asked the MYP Regional Manager for the IB Asia-Pacific if Green School was going to implement IB curriculum. He told me then that they had not, as of yet, contacted the IBO at all. I found this rather strange; applying for IB authorization, regardless of which programme, is a lengthy and time-consuming formal process. Green School’s website states their curriculum is “within an IB framework,” yet they have not formally initiated the authorization process. This is a bold move, in my opinion, to formally state this but to not initiate it.
I told Mr. Stones my background, and that I was very curious about Green School’s curriculum. His initial response indicated curriculum was an area of interest and concern for him, and it caused my Red Flag Syndrome to surge again slightly. To his credit, Mr. Stones clarified and went on to say that at the moment curriculum was a challenge for the school. (Note that I think this is probably to be expected, considering they are such a new school and only in their first year.) He explained that they needed something more concrete in place, as at present there was not enough of a continuum. I appreciated his honesty greatly, and I have to give Mr. Stones much gratitude for being brave enough to talk with me about curriculum, considering he had only been on the job for little more than three weeks. He said the current curriculum seems to come from a variety of sources and that one of the schools great tasks was to ensure that the curriculum was clearly articulated. He lauded the school’s strength of having faculty from a wide range of traditions, backgrounds, and experiences, but indicated that it would be necessary for everyone to be on the same page in order to move forward.
Wow, what a task! And I must say, that is one challenge I am glad I am not part of. To come into a school half-way through its first year and try to pull in all the curriculum threads from various teachers who have already been teaching there – to me, herding cats sounds easier. I have already worked at one international school where MYP was being implemented after having tossed out the British National Curriculum, and it was not pretty. When it comes to curriculum philosophy my belief is, and my experience indicates, that everyone has to be on the same page before any teaching begins.
Too many schools, educators, administrators, and parents take educational philosophy for granted. They assume that others believe what they believe, and go on their merry way. The difficulty arises when a stakeholder says, in Jerry Maguire style, “Show me the money” and you have to find evidence of that philosophy in concrete daily learning activities. One of the most useful professional appraisals I experienced was in my first international school, when my principal asked me how my teaching philosophy manifested itself in my classroom – she wanted me to show her something concrete and tangible as evidence that I was walking the talk. That exercise has stayed with me in the seven years since, and I think daily about how my classroom and my students’ learning experiences concretely reflect my philosophy. I must be the change, as Gandhi says. It’s no surprise that that principal who challenged me is now the Director of the IBAP – she required me to rise to meet the very expectations I was demanding of my students.
Green School has plenty of ideal, grounded, progressive philosophy ideas about education in this century and beyond. It seems to have the right idea. But where is the curriculum? What is the actual documentation that will indicate what students will learn and how? And where is it manifested within classrooms? I suspect Mr. Stones and his faculty will be trying to find that delicate balance between idealism and structure. At some point, someone will demand, if they haven’t already, “Show me the money.” Mr. Stones seems to have the experience and the know-how to move Green School in the right direction in this respect, though I admit I do not know his background in curriculum matters and those of philosophy. I will be watching eagerly to see how it all works out.
Green, But Growing
Green School is a continual work in progress. Such is evident when visiting the campus – construction is everywhere, and Ami commented several times how often the physical campus is changing. Last week there wasn’t a gymnasium; this week there is. Current construction continues on the Heart of the School, and there is a general sense when walking around their idyllic campus that things will continue to evolve. Change is good, and Green School gets that.
While currently Green School looks, well… a little green in the educational world, I do sense a firm future for them. At some point they will stop being novices and will have a stronger foundation in their educational niche. While revolutionary and cutting-edge now – perhaps even to the point of awkward — it is a place I envision becoming quite a beacon in the realm of international education. I daresay it’s a place I might be intrigued to work at in a few years’ time. They are at the forefront of a new movement and as such are one to keep an eye on. For now, though, I will watch curiously from the sidelines and see how the lotus unfolds.
*Special thanks to Emily for use of her camera during our visit!