Engaging Students Through Technology

Sufficient resources have not been allocated to instructional uses of technology because technology has largely been viewed as an afterthought, an add-on, something to give students to play around with if they finish their in-class assignment early. I argue for making technology central to teaching and learning, which means rethinking the relationship between what happens in class and what happens at home. It also means rethinking how technology funds are allocated. If students don't have access, then provide the means for making access possible, i.e., spend the money to wire and outfit homes and spend less money wiring and outfitting schools. The typical model of tech use in K-12 is a couple really old computers sitting in the corner of the classroom and a computer lab, which is often mobile. Of course, there's the other extreme -- giving each student a laptop -- but this gets expensive and hard to maintain. I think you target low-income families and give them free or very low-cost computers and Internet access through state or federal dollars.

Equitable access to technology resources is one of the most pernicious issues in our society today: students who cannot afford computers cannot participate in the information revolution that so many of us take for granted. While students without their own computers can go to a computer lab or to a library, this requires extra time and effort on their part.

While some students are able to make the time, they are not willing to do so. In other cases, students are willing to take the time and make the effort but simply don’t have the time because of work/life commitments that demand them to do something other than prepare for class. So what to do?

In the end, students are going to spend time outside of class doing something. The trick is to find ways to make what happens outside class relevant to what happens inside class, to make it intellectually stimulating, and to make it worth the effort. In other words, it produces tangible, measurable evidence of learning that both the student and the instructor can see.

For the majority of students, learning outside of the classroom occurs in the context of two things: studying (usually for a test, quiz, or exam) and homework. The accepted notion about homework is that it gives students an opportunity to practice and apply what they are learning in class. The accepted notion about studying is that studying for tests, quizzes, or exams gives the student the opportunity to coalesce and organize what they have been learning. The test, quiz, or exam provides a performance context in which the student demonstrates his/her mastery of the subject matter.

Despite the best intentions behind the idea of homework, most of it turns into mindless, purposeless busywork. The homework is done at home, handed in the next day, and returned to the student the following day (or later) with a grade on it. Sometimes it’s a number grade; sometimes it’s a letter grade. But more often than not, it’s a “Good job!” or a check plus. There’s no connection between what was done in class, outside class, the next day in class, and the following day when the homework is returned. There’s no opportunity to apply what was covered in class and then get timely, rich feedback from the teacher and peers on this application of the new knowledge or information. The reason is quite simple: there is no way to connect what happened in class with what happens outside, and there is no way to connect what happened outside with what happens in class the next time.

Studying implies that you have already learned the material beforehand, and that studying will simply call to mind what you have already learned. But as the performance on the assessment clearly shows, this is often not the case. So if learning never happened to begin with, what good is studying? In these cases, the student might be forced to learn the material that he or she neglected to learn, either via a homework assignment or some other means. But being forced to learn something is probably not the best way to instill a love of learning!

Nevertheless, we have all engaged in this process at some point in our lives: we cram. We take huge amounts of information, store it in short term memory, and then regurgitate it for the purposes of the test, quiz, or exam. And once that’s over, we promptly purge it from short-term memory and go on with our lives.

For a disturbingly large number of students, the process below is synonymous with learning:

• engage in mindless homework exercises
• receive no rich, timely feedback on the homework
• have little or no sense of what you know and what you can do throughout the learning experience
• cram for tests the night before you take them
• promptly forget what you studied

This is a highly dysfunctional system, and yet it passes as the norm. Given this perspective, it’s amazing that students can learn anything at all. But it’s also little wonder that so many students struggle in school and eventually drop out. Typically, we blame them and label them “bad students.” But if we look critically at our most basic operations, we can see that we are part of the problem as well. Is it any wonder why students spend so little time preparing for class?

Here's what I imagine as the ideal:

• engage in rich homework exercises that connect directly to what happens in class
• receive rich, timely feedback on the homework
• have a strong sense of what you know and what you can do throughout the learning experience
• engage in a mixture of on-going assessments that promote self-directed learning and encourage self-confidence
• deeply ingrain what you studied and make meaningful connections between yourself and different subjects such that learning becomes a form of self-expression

As an instructional design goal, I advocate using technology tools like discussion forums, blogs, wikis, and online formative assessments to make studying, doing homework, and other forms of preparation outside of class synonymous with the kind of engagement listed above if for no other reason than to get students to do the work, to get them to want to make the time and the effort, to motivate them to go the extra mile to go to the computer lab or the library so they can access a computer. In so doing, students can engage in meaningful, purposeful intellectual activity that produces tangible, measurable growth and learning. They won’t have to waste so much time “doing homework” or “studying for a test,” activities which have limited intellectual value and little relevance to their very busy lives.

For my presentation on formative assessment using web-based teaching and learning tools, follow this link.

Note - it's about 55 minutes long and works best on a Windows machine using Internet Explorer or on a Mac using Safari. You can skip ahead to different sections and go back to different sections using the links on the left.

The Faustian Bargain of School Choice

I went to an open house for a public charter school today. I love this school. I really want to be a part of this community of teachers, students, and parents. The curriculum is inspiring. The way the school views childhood development is refreshingly different from the mainstream schools that emphasize academics and sacrifice social and emotional development, as well as "extras" like art, music, PE, drama, etc. There is something palpably different about this school: everyone likes being here. The teachers, the students, the parents . . . the place just wreaks of excitement. Apparently lots of other folks feel the same way that I do: the place was literally packed.

But I have mixed feelings about charters. There’s a big difference between locally-controlled, parent-run, not-for-profit charters like we see in Portland and corporate, for-profit charters like Edison Schools, Inc. and McCharters like the KIPP schools. You can read about Edison here and KIPP here.

Ideally, charters were envisioned as institutions that would offer alternative approaches to education and would actively involve parents and the community. I think this model is very useful, especially in light of the top-down, cookie-cutter approach we see in Portland and elsewhere today.

But there's a dark side to this school - all charter schools for that matter.

The Lottery

In the system here in Portland, if there are more applicants than spaces available, everyone's name is put in a hat and students are selected randomly through this lottery process. Those lucky enough to have their names drawn get in. The unlucky ones . . . well, they're SOL.

I can't quite get over how odd this lottery business is. It seems fair on the surface . . . except for the ones that don't win. What's odd is that we're talking about a kid's future -- including my kid's future -- that is literally subject to the luck of the draw, the roll of the dice.

School choice proponents here in Portland and elsewhere crow about the virtues of being able to choose which school you send your kids to. But if you don't win the lottery, what choice do you actually have? You're stuck with the school you don't want your kid to attend.

This being stuck'edness is no place that anyone wants to be. If you "choose" another school but are not lucky enough to have your "choice" granted, you can't help but feel a little downtrodden. You can't help but feel a little angry, a little desperate. But perhaps you dutifully send your kid to this school anyway. Hell, what "choice" do you have? Can't afford private school. And homeschooling? Who can afford to quit their job and teach their kids? So you send your kid to this school that you have not chosen. You meet other parents who have not chosen this school. You feel their stuck'edness, their downtrodden'ness, their anger, and their desperation. This is the climate of the school, a school that no one has chosen.

A good chunk of research suggests that parental involvement is one of the keys to student success in school. But it's hard to get excited about a school that you didn't choose. It's hard to want to volunteer in a place where you don't belong.

In the later years of their lives, my parents were pretty destitute. My father lost his job and my mom worked for minimum wage with no health insurance for a giant hotel chain. As religiously as rain, they would buy lottery cards each time the jackpot went over a few million. It was heartbreakingly pathetic to watch them eagerly buy their miserable lottery ticket and wait, praying for a miracle to happen.

I suppose I can't shake this association between a jackpot lottery and a school choice lottery. What's common to both is a certain kind of hopeful hopelessness, a quiet desperation mixed with a belief in a better life. But when you don't hit the jackpot, your own dire straits are made that much more apparent.

Diversity

In the crowd at the school today, I saw exactly one black kid and his mother. The rest were white, clearly middle to upper income whites.

While charters are technically open to everyone, the truth of the matter is that Portland charters tend to draw a disproportionate percentage of middle-class white people.

Unlike the local neighborhood school, charters are not the default schooling option for students and parents. So parents have to find out about the charters in their district. This winnows the field of applicants down considerably. Once they find out about the charters in their district, parents have to attend an informational meeting about the school. This further winnows the field down. Charters often require parents to sign some kind of agreement, e.g., to help at the school, to help with their kids homework, etc. This winnows the field down even further. Then, because the charters are often not in the neighborhood, parents and students have to travel — some times long distances — to get to the school. You guessed it: this winnows the field down still further.

So although charters are technically open to everyone, the way they are set up tends to limit the field of applicants to parents who have extra time on their hands and who are very motivated, involved, mobile, and informed. And parents who are very motivated, involved, mobile, and informed are disproportionately middle to upper income, often with one parent (usually the mom) designated as the full-time caregiver. How many low-income families can afford to have one of the parents not work? Give me a bunch of parents who have extra time on their hands and who are very motivated, involved, mobile, and informed and I will show you a good school.

So, yes, charters are open to all. But not all come.

I don’t blame the charters for this. They are simply filling a need, responding to this desperate need that some parents have for a choice, something other than what they are given.

But wouldn't it be great if all schools could be like charters, i.e., schools that parents would want to send their kids to? Sound like a naive pipe dream? Perhaps. But why can't this be a reality? What's actually stopping us from accomplishing this?

Extraordinary Video on Creativity

Set aside 20 minutes and prepare to be delighted and inspired by Sir Ken Robinson's talk at the TED conference.

Cheezewhiz and the Value of Play

When I worked at the University of Missouri-Columbia, I co-created a pilot program called "Expressive Media." The program involved pairing a technology workshop with a discipline-specific course such as English, journalism, or anthropology. Instead of writing traditional academic papers, students in the course created web sites, interactive CD-ROMs, or other forms of technology-based projects. The idea was to expand the notion of writing to include other forms of media and to move beyond print/text as the sole means of writing, thinking, and communicating.

When teaching the technology workshop, I emphasized two basic principles: (1) teach yourself what you need to know about the technology tool to be able to accomplish the goals of your project and (2) play with the tool -- as much as possible. Trying to learn something as complicated as Photoshop is extraordinarily daunting. But learning how to create web-based graphics in Photoshop for a piece on journalistic ethics was more focused and, therefore, more doable. The students ate it up.

As far as play is concerned, here's my favorite anecdote from that class.

When learning how to use a sound editing tool called SoundEdit, one of my students recorded himself saying the word "cheesewhiz." He then took the recording and then played it backwards over and over again. He wanted to learn how to say the word "cheesewhiz" backwards. Once he learned how to say "cheesewhiz" backwards, he recorded himself saying it. And then, magically, when he played himself saying "cheesewhiz" backwards backwards, there it was: "cheesewhiz." Everyone in the room laughed for a good 5 minutes. It was an unforgettable moment.

There was nothing I could have done to promote this kind of adventurous learning other than to let it happen.

What Is Eczema?

The kick continues. Now it spills over into my personal life. My 18-month-old son has eczema. Or, as I like to refer to it, "eczema." I call it "eczema" because I want to highlight the notion of "eczema" as a phenomenon that occurs not only on my son's skin, but also in language and in scientific discourse.

So what is eczema? And, more importantly, what causes it? And even more importantly, how do you cure it?

Take a spin around Ye Olde Internette and you'll see lots of people offering lots of opinions. My wife and I did some research and then went to see a homeopathic doctor. Two remedies later, and my son's skin was still itchy and red. So we went to a naturopathic doctor. Several avoided foods later, my son's skin was still itchy and red. So we went to a pediatric dermatologist. One corticosteroid cream later, my son's skin is red and itchy, then it's not red and itchy for 3 days, and then it's red and itchy again. So went to a pediatric allergist. One scratch test and one blood test later, we are holding out hope that my son's "eczema" is really an allergic reaction to dairy and wheat. So far, so good. We stopped giving him dairy and wheat and . . . duh . . . his skin looks a lot better.

What amazes me about this whole episode is that neither of the two homeopathic doctors we went to nor the pediatric dermatologist said anything about getting an allergy test done. According to the homeopaths, there was something in his system that was out of balance and could be cured. According to the pediatric dermatologist, "eczema" was an utter mystery: we aren't really sure what causes it, the doctor said, invoking the omniscient "we," and we have no way to cure it.

So many trained experts. So much talking. So much naming. So many nods and assurances that "we know best." So many studies. So many data. And all my son had to do was stop eating cheese and crackers.

So what does this have to do with education, and how does it relate to my rants against the basics and the nuggets o' facts approach to learning?

Think about it: here are these so-called "experts" in their little silos of facts. A homeopath knows about a certain set of things, as does a pediatric dermatologist, as does a naturopath. The pediatric dermatologist, courtesy of his extensive training, was absolutely adamant -- ADAMANT -- that eczema had nothing -- NOTHING -- to do with food or allergies. Yet the pediatric allergist, courtesy of his training, instantly associated my son's "eczema" with what he was eating.

If we had listened to the pediatric dermatologist, if we had chosen to believe him, if we had invested trust in his professional opinion, my son's skin would still be red and itchy. He would still be eating the things that were causing his skin to react, and we would still be putting on a steroid cream designed to mask the symptoms of his eating things that made his skin red and itchy. Fortunately, we chose not to believe him. But I can't imagine how many kids and parents have listened to him.

It's not just memorized nuggets o' facts. It's which nuggets count as "the truth," as real, as relevant. It's how the nuggets function in relation to other nuggets in what Michel Foucault called "the economy of knowledge."

Bottom line: the truth is often an act of faith, and knowledge -- or the lack thereof -- can be harmful.

How Do Airplanes Fly?

OK, I admit. I'm on a bit of a kick here. I started with my diatribe against "the basics." I followed with the post on Oprah. Now, today, I'm inspired by what Ira Flatow had to say. In case you've never heard of him, he is the NPR science correspondent and anchor of Talk of the Nation: Science Friday, and author of Rainbows, Curve Balls and Other Wonders of the Natural World Explained and They All Laughed.

In the 9/11/07 broadcast of The Diane Rehm Show, Flatow discussed the issue of how planes fly. According to Flatow, the way we were all told is wrong. We were all told that planes could fly according to the Bernoulli effect, i.e., the shape of an airplane wing is such that air flowing over the top of the wing must travel faster than the air flowing under the wing, and so there is less pressure on the top than on the bottom, resulting in lift. Rubbish, says Flatow -- as does every other expert in the field of aerodynamics.

But wait a minute! Mr. Johnson, my 10th grade physics teacher, said it was due to pressure. He was a disciple of Bernoulli - how could he have been wrong? And can I file a law suit against him?

As Flatow reminds us, "science is a moving target."

So not only is education an issue of memorizing useless bits o facts, it's also frequently an issue of the bits we've committed to memory being entirely untrue, inaccurate, and otherwise wrong. And if you don't believe me, let me ask you this: how many planets are there? 9 or 8? Is Pluto a planet or not?

Moving target, remember?

So how would we approach this reality in our classrooms? How do we teach "facts" while at the same time underscoring their provisional status as "the truth"?