Meep

From the “Really? REALLY?” files…we have this story of a Danville, MA principal who has auto-called parents of his students to warn them of inappropriate language that would, if used, lead to suspensions. What, pray tell, was the foul language that warranted this level of concern? What new profanity hath the internet and youthful disinhibition wrought? Should I place an age-rating or an adult-content warning on this post?

Meep.

That’s the word. Meep.

As in “the only word ever uttered by Beaker on the Muppet Show,” or

“The name of the alien in the Phineas and Ferb Episode by the (almost) same name?”

As a former kid who would have found this funny, I can see the random joy to be found in a word like this. Meep has a certain vague quality that allows for multiple usages. The fact that adults get really fired up about it? That’s just a bonus. The fact that its usage could trigger a robo-call and national press? Double bonus. More importantly, though, I think this story speaks volumes about the ugly little secret a lot of us don’t want to admit.

A lot of people are afraid of adolescents.

It’s easy to believe only the worst of them, to assume that every utterance or gesture to be a gang sign or drug reference. The media feeds this fear by showing us only the teens who wreak mayhem on their communities- or by painting squeaky-clean pictures of those who don’t reinforce that stereotype. It can become hard to imagine that adolescents are complete people, capable of being whimsical and funny and silly for no reason at all.

I think that’s what makes folks like us different. By taking the risk and getting to know our students well, we aren’t afraid of the Meep. We can laugh about it with the relaxed knowledge that it’s just silliness. We don’t need to be afraid of our students because we know them for the complex, messy, totally human creatures that they are.

So on that note, I leave you with this. Have nice weekend!

Does this Describe You? Or Your Students?

Or your students?

The longer I’m out in the educational world, the more frustrated I get with teachers who don’t at least aspire to matching their own practice to the kids (and teachers) described here. I can understand and empathize with not knowing how to go about becoming this kind of educator, but I can’t understand not wanting to.

So what about you?

Thanks to 21st Century Learning for the vids.

The Sound of Music…and Silence

There’s a certain musicality to exhibit halls. Between the clank of coffee cups and silver ware and the cacophony of voices, it can be hard to hear oneself think. This exhibit hall is no exception- except there’s more laughter punctuating the din. We had a great day yesterday. I’m always amazed at ANE’s reach, particularly when I travel. The number of graduates who stop by to pick up a bag or a pencil or to ask about an old colleague or former instructor always takes me by surprise. Then there are what I call the “alumni 2.0.” These are the folks who aren’t alumni themselves, but who are connected somehow to our community- by marriage, parentage or parenthood. They always have great stories about their experiences (or those of their loved ones) and great enthusiasm for what we do and why we do it.

Then there are the future alumni- the practicing educators who are intrigued by the idea of a graduate education that aligns with- rather than chafes against- their personal educational philosophies. They seem amazed and thrilled to discover us and gleefully take all the materials they can get their hands on.

The last group we had is one I haven’t experienced before- the Fans. David Sobel is with me, as I mentioned yesterday, along with a few of his books. We’ve had a surprising number of folks stop by to ask when he’ll be at the booth and then, once they catch him, they pepper him with questions and stories and ideas of how they could (or do) use his work. It’s really fun to watch.

Last night, after everything wrapped up, I joined a group of my colleagues here to enjoy the work of a Cuban jazz pianist named Roberto Carcasses. It was not only inspiring, but it represented on of the things I most enjoy about this community. People in this work really like each other, generally. We have a good time together not only because we have so much in common, but also because we’re open to all sorts of new experiences. Since my voice disappeared around 3:00 yesterday afternoon, I spent most of my time listening- to the music and to my friends. They’re a pretty interesting group- and you never can tell what’s going to happen when they all get together.

This morning, however, all of the salt water and cough drops in the world weren’t going to help me. My presentation on Teaching & Learning 21st Century Skills turned out to be very short since I couldn’t get through more than 10 words without coughing. I ended up giving out my materials and assuring folks that I’d be happy to answer questions or walk them through the powerpoint over the phone at any time. It was disheartening for me, but a number of folks stayed behind to have whispered conversations about the questions they brought in with them and the way they envisioned using the material. I have high hopes that at least a few will get in touch- but I miss having the experience of presenting. Note to self: get presentations scheduled in the first session, not the last.

So our boarding passes are printed and I’m going to break the booth down in just a few minutes. The exhibit hall is abandoned and folks are wheeling their suitcases into the lobby. My 15th Fall Forum has come to an end. See everyone in San Fransisco next year!

76 Trombones Led the Big Parade…

The first thing that struck me about last night’s opening session was the marching band. They started with a warm-up in front of the hotel around 5:00 and it was something you really couldn’t miss. The lined up on the sidewalk and they played, they marched in place, the dancers danced, the sousaphones swayed from side to side and the drum line worked that drum line combo of all-business and too- cool that makes drum lines famous. I stood on the sidewalk, grinning like a loon, while a crowd gathered. To the musicians, this was rehearsal. We were an inconsequential group of onlookers and we were under no circumstances going to distract them from the task at hand.

That’s why I love marching bands. I played in one (Rock on Maryville Marching Spoofhounds!) and I’ve always loved the oxymoron of something so goofy (just the hats are enough to make that qualification) combined with something requiring so much fierce precision, determination and commitment. It’s a lot like teaching, now that I think of it…

Anyway, the marching band turned out to be the opener for the Opening Session. They marched in, graced us with just enough of their mojo to make us want just a bit more, and then they left us to Lewis Cohen (director of CES) and Gloria Ladson Billings. Gloria’s remarks were amazing- eventually you’ll be able to find them here, but give us a little time to get them up there. She focused on Katrina as a metaphor for the failure of education and it was powerful, to say the least.

What was more powerful, though, was the closing. After a short, heartfelt tribute to the late Ted Sizer, the Encore Singers from Upper Darby, PA High School sang their goodbye and thanks to Ted. Their first piece was called Homage by Z. Stroop. Written by three musicians as a tribute to their deceased fathers, the lyric was not only hauntingly appropriate, but also exactly on target for what many of us were feeling. They followed up, joined by a group of students from Live Oak Elementary School here in New Orleans, with You Raise Me Up, which left us feeling inspired and moved…and ready to head to the reception to connect with our friends. Luckily, the musicians joined us and sang us into good spirits by the end of the evening.

Where do I begin?

I’ve been at the CES Fall Forum since Wednesday morning. Now, you might imagine that my blog silence to be the result of massive beignets overload or too much carousing, beings as how I’m in New Orleans right now. In fact, however, too many meetings, lousy internet connections, and a bad cold have conspired against my plans to live-blog from the event. I’m now safely ensconced in the ANE booth in the admissions hall and between meetings, so let me take a moment to bring you up to speed.

I spent the day yesterday with David Sobel, playing a supporting role in his Place Based Education Pre-Conference session. We worked with a great group of 17 educators from across the country, helping them to uncover the opportunities inherent in the places they live and work. The high point of the day was certainly our visit to James Weldon Johnson Elementary School. One of many schools still recovering from Katrina, this school welcomed us with open arms and smiling faces. Their principal- Wanda- was not only dynamic and funny as all get-out, but she obviously cared for her students with a passion and determination that must make her a force of nature unto herself. Our little group joined a group of 4th graders in learning a game about the Lake Pontchartrain watershed. (We were taught by the 8th graders who had been working with Teaching Responsible Earth Education, an organization I would highly recommend. ) I know, it doesn’t sound like much fun but trust me- it was. We blooped along as water droplets (“blooping” sounds were optional but strongly encouraged), moving between rivers, the lake, the clouds, and a variety of aquifers and watersheds. We picked up pollution along the way (from well marked sites like the Creosote Factory and Henny Penny’s Farm) which we dropped into the lake, making a great big mess along the way. Along the way, we got to see a group of 8th graders step up as leaders, which was probably the best part of the whole thing.

By the end of our session, we were tired and happy and hopeful. The destruction of Katrina was still evident, but more the recovery. These kids were not the kids they would have been had the storm not happened, but the school- and the community- is clearly establishing a “new normal.”

Coming up next: The opening session.

Rethink Learning Now

Rethink Learning Now is one of my new favorite things. From their website:

The Rethink Learning Now campaign is supported by a growing coalition of individuals, education advocates, civil rights groups and philanthropic organizations, each of whom shares a commitment to focus the country’s attention on three core pillars of successful education reform – learning, teaching and fairness.

We do not assume that these three areas are the only things that matter – just that it is essential to get these areas right when it comes to improving our public education system.

They ask us to share our stories- of teaching, of learning, and of fairness- so that policy makers can see the themes that emerge. This is your chance. Read on to see my contribution.

n 1986, my sophomore year of high school, I was assigned to a 4th period state- mandated speech course. I wasn’t that nervous about it- either because it hadn’t occurred to me to be nervous or (more likely) because I already realized that talking in public wasn’t really that much of a problem for me. I figured this for an easy A.

Then I walked into the classroom. First- it was in the home ec kitchen. (I know- it’s Family & Consumer Sciences now. Then? It was Home Ec.) Second- the room was loaded with “popular” kids. Girls and boys who were the sharks to my sea plankton in the social ecosystem of high school. I was suddenly terrified- and I turned around and left the room without even dropping my books- instead, I dropped the class.

The only other speech class available was forensics- which I assumed to have something to do with dead bodies. Didn’t matter, though. If it would get me out of that speech class, I’d dissect anything they wanted me to. I signed up.

That moment was the moment that changed my life. In that class, I discovered not only a new peer group but also a teacher who valued me for what I brought to the table- not for what I lacked as a student or a member of the social strata. Trudy Kinman seemed to be genuinely interested in what we had to say. She seemed to know that by knowing us well, she could help us to perform at our best. I pushed myself for the first time in that class. I did more than what was required because I discovered the value of excellence, of showing what I knew and could do. I learned that I could excel- and that it was really fun when I did!

I later became a teacher myself- speech and debate, as a matter of fact- and while I’m not currently teaching, I *am* using what Trudy taught me. Everyday, in fact, I demonstrate that drive to be my best educational self, that joy in doing good quality work, and the inherent rewards to be found in excellence. Thanks Trudy.

So now it’s your turn. Tell your education story!

By the way, I’ll be liveblogging and tweeting from the Fall Forum in New Orleans beginning on Wednesday. Laissez les bon temps roulez!

Ted

It’s been over a week since Ted Sizer past away. His passing wasn’t a surprise- he’d been sick for quite awhile- but I was surprised by the level of my own response. That’s why it’s taken me a week to acknowledge it, to tell you the truth. Ted was my first educational mentor, way back in 1988 when my friend Meredith and I read Horace’s Compromise. We were doing a senior year independent study on education reform, though we didn’t really know what an independent study was- other than a good excuse to skip out for lunch under the guise of “going to the library.” I like to imagine that Ted would have been entertained by the irony in that. There have been a number of wonderful eulogies already written- here, and here, and my favorite here. I don’t need to rehash all of his accomplishments-but I do want to tell you a story.

In the winter for 2003 (or maybe 2004? I’m not sure), just a couple of years after I started working here at ANE, I was charged with contacting Ted. (We were hoping that he would come and speak at our 40th anniversary celebration.) It was one of those February days where the snow just falls and falls and falls, but the wind doesn’t really blow that hard- a quintessential New England winter day. In the closing of my e-mail, I’d admonished he and Nancy to “stay warm.” His response was that they’d done just the opposite- they’d just come in from tobogganing with their grandchildren, he said, and their cheeks were all rosy with the cold.

I love the picture that comes to mind when I imagine that scene. He and Nancy, crammed onto a sled together as it careened downhill, powder flying and shrieks of laughter filling the air, with the grandkids cheering them on. I imagine Ted in one of those funny, surprisingly warm, hats that have ear flaps and strings that hang down (though i have no idea if he actually favored them). In my mind’s eye, I see him grinning and brushing snow off his coat, dragging the toboggan back up the hill for another run.

That’s how I remember Ted. My experiences with him convinced me of two things: he was one of the great educational minds of our generation- and he knew how to have a good time. Rest well, Ted. We’ll miss you.

A Little Monday Inspiration

This nifty little program in Brandon, VT is a great example of our kind of teaching and learning.

Surry Village Charter School, another like-minded program, got some nice press this weekend as well.

Seems like we could all benefit from a bit of “tooting our own horns” these days. What are you doing that illustrates our belief system? Who do you know that’s doing our brand of work? Come on folks- represent!

Have a great week, everyone!

The Classics Never Go Out of Style

I’m a fan of the classics. Literature, movies, cars, clothes- I have a deep, abiding love for things you can count on. (Yes, I realize that might seem contradictory for someone in the change business. What can I say- I’m a complicated person.) Education, on the other hand, is full of here-today-gone-tomorrow pedagogy. We’ve all lived through never ending onslaughts of “the next big thing,” knowing that the innovation didn’t have staying power. There are exceptions, of course, with Critical Skills being at the head of the pack, in my book, followed closely by Progressivism- but we’ve already been down that road, haven’t we?

I’ll bet you might not realize, though, that one of the innovative educator’s best friends was actually born in the 1940’s. Bloom’s taxonomy, that old reliable instructional aid, is around 60 years old. (Amazing! I’d never guess a day over 40!) In honor of that, the folks at Learning Today have created this lovely poster for download:

Besides being absolutely gorgeous and totally downloadable (’cause you really can’t beat free), there’s one other interesting thing about this poster. It doesn’t look like the Bloom’s you grew up with. When I came through school (back when dinosaurs roamed the earth and we scratched our arithmetic into the dirt with pointy sticks), Bloom’s Taxonomy looked like this:

This version has the old familiar stair steps- knowledge, comprehension, application, analysis, synthesis and evaluation. (or, if you prefer,
Kitty Cooks Apples And Avocados Saturday Evenings).

The new version (which was actually the product of revisions done in the 90’s by a team lead by a former student of Bloom’s:

takes us into gerund land, reminding us that kids are supposed to be doing these things, not just experiencing them. There are also replacements- remembering for knowledge and understanding for comprehension, and with creating replacing synthesis at the top. (Makes sense to me- I’ve never created anything that didn’t call a whole host of skills into use.)

So it’s true that classics are classics- but a little updating never hurt anyone.

(graphics courtesy http://www.odu.edu/educ/llschult/blooms_taxonomy.htm)

This is why we have to keep fighting.

A little inspiration for you today…

Cross posted at Growing Teachers.