Educational Insanity

Those with whom I network for learning purposes through Twitter, blogs, Nings, etc. are largely members of an amorphous educational technology community.  That community is fond of throwing around terms like “change” and “reform” connected to schools or education and most often the “change” or “reform” is largely related to advances in technology. The gist of the argument is that technology has changed the world we live in but not schools so schools need to catch up (or something to that effect).  Schools are becoming “dangerously irrelevant,” right Scott?

There are also frequent references to those other educators who do not “get it.”  Yet, it is never clear, at least to me, what the “it” is that other educators are supposed to “get.” There are references to School 2.0, Classroom 2.0,etc.  Significant technology integration is certainly implied, but even that is a loosely defined concept.

Many of the same individuals with whom I learn and interact online will be attending Educon 2.2. at the Science Leadership Academy (SLA) in Philadelphia this coming weekend.  That event will involve lots of conversations, largely around technology and the future of education. Chris Lehmann, the principal of SLA, has long been clear that Educon is not an educational technology conference.  In fact, the conference is guided by five axioms which you see below:

That’s not a bad starting point for framing the “it” that “others” are supposed to “get,” but like all standards, they are vague and high-minded.  I believe “we” (myself included) would all do well to think long and hard about what “it” is that “we” are aiming for and figure out a way to articulate “it.”

What troubles me more than an overall lack of an operationalized vision of the change that “we” want are the many flawed arguments made in favor of “it.” That is, to justify a vision that I argue is not clear from the start, there are a host of arguments being made within the amorphous ed. tech. community that are logically problematic. I summarize and briefly discuss some of those arguments below:

The “Digital Natives” Argument – yes, I’m well aware that “we” have largely denounced the digital natives-immigrants dichotomy, and I’m on board with that.  However, I see a new, related line of thinking that is equally problematic.  It has to do with the notion that kids are really comfortable with technology, they use it a lot, so we should bury them in it at schools too.  When the recent Kaiser Family Foundation report was released, it spread like wildfire among “our” networks/communities.  Here are the money lines: Today, 8-18 year-olds devote an average of 7 hours and 38 minutes (7:38) to using entertainment media across a typical day (more than 53 hours a week).  And because they spend so much of that time ‘media multitasking’ (using more than one medium at a time), they actually manage to pack a total of 10 hours and 45 minutes (10:45) worth of media content into those 7½ hours.

Well, there you go. Given *that*, how can we NOT make our schools more “relevant?”  HOLD ON…what’s the logic there?  Just because that’s what kids do on their own time, that’s how we should engage them in schools?  Why is that exactly?  Maybe, actually, what we need to be doing is using that evidence to argue for maximizing face-to-face time.  In fact, this gives me even more reason to argue for the “flipped classroom” model that you see discussed here.  Let’s “disrupt” or “interrupt” kids time online by, where necessary, providing content or instruction via digital means so that when they come to school they can learn to interact with each other and learn socially while face-to-face.

The Economics Argument – this is the argument based, often, in the works of (non-economists) Daniel Pink, Richard Florida, etc.  It is a big part of presentations done by folks I admire greatly, including my friend/colleague Scott McLeod.  Watch and/or listen to Scott’s presentation to the NEA and you’ll hear a lot about the changing nature of the workforce and how we need to reform schools to meet those changing needs.

I get that, kind of.  Here’s the problem.  If you make that argument, you have to believe that one of the fundamental purposes of schooling is, in fact, to prepare kids for the workforce.  That’s not at all something I believe.  For me, first and foremost, schools are in the business of preparing kids to be active, productive citizens in a deliberative democratic society.  Schooling for citizenship and deliberation, not employment.  I want to remove all references to “workplace” or “workforce” or “economy” from any and all school mission statements.

If I argue or advocate for technology integration in schools, it is based on the idea that we need to recognize that the Web is causing us to rethink what citizenship means and is increasingly becoming a space where important deliberation happens (see e.g. the ways in which social media impacted the last presidential election in this country).  We need to help kids become deliberative  and to express their ideas and thoughts in productive ways in spaces that are digital and PUBLIC.

That said, building upon my notion of maximizing face-to-face time, let’s think about ways to use school time to foster civic engagement and deliberative habits. As far as I’m concerned, every kid should be required to take a debate class.

The Business Argument – this argument was bolstered by the publishing of Disruptive Class which is based on the theory of disruptive innovation developed by of one of the book’s authors, Clayton Christensen.  The general premise there is that technology will increasingly allow us to individualize/customize learning and makes learning possible anywhere/anytime and that is an innovation that will disrupt the model of formal schooling as we know it here…unless, of course, schools figure out a way to head off that disruption at the pass.

Let’s say we accept the book’s premise. Then what?  It was NEVER clear to me in reading the book what it is that schools need to do in order to not get “disrupted.”  Are student-centric learning technologies that customize learning the disruption or the prescription against disruption? I may be missing that, and if so, I’m willing to listen.  But, if “we” include the “Disrupting Class” thinking in “our” arguments, “we” need to be prepared to then tie the vision of the “it” that “they” are supposed to “get” to the logic of disruptive innovation.  In other words, it’s not enough just to say that the current model of schooling is going to be disrupted.

That said, I’m not accepting the book’s premise, largely because I’m missing the last link  in the chain of logic.  I also still don’t understand why the author’s went after K-12 education and not higher education.  Higher education is a choice (to a degree). Up to a certain age, though, public schooling is mandatory.  It’s also, for most people, a public enterprise and not a profit-driven one, and I don’t think the theory of disruptive innovation works in that context.  For a more thoughtful critique of Disrupting Class, I encourage you to read this critique by Andy Zucker of the Concord Consortium.

The “Bored Kid” Anecdote – OK, @bengrey, your turn under the bus. So, lots of attention was given to the story of Aaron Iba, the now former CEO of AppJet, the company that created EtherPad.  Ben wrote about Aaron’s story here.  Lisa Nielsen wrote about it here and here.  Aaron’s story is not a new one.  And, I know Ben and Lisa and others know that.  In fact, that was pretty much their point.  Since forever, kids have been bored in schools.

Well, guess what?  For all of the Aaron’s out there, I can point to a…well…me. School worked beautifully for me.  I’m the perfect anecdote for maintaining the status quo in schools.  I loved school. I got to learn, largely by myself, and that’s what I liked.  Teachers soothed my ego and made me feel smart and great and I achieved at high levels. So, why isn’t anyone blogging about me and how schools work?

Additionally, the Gladwellian tactic of finding a case to fit an a priori belief is not compelling to me.  I think case studies can be immensely interesting and meaningful, but only if done thoroughly and systematically.  Gladwell gives us bits and pieces of his cases and, as a result, we can’t know how well that case “fits” his theory because we don’t know enough about the case.  Same with Aaron Iba. Do we really have enough information here to know the whole story? To conclude that the schooling system failed Aaron? Writing a good case study is hard to do.  When done well, though, they are deep, rich narratives that are full of meaning; they aren’t meant to be “generalizable” though.

One last question about the “bored kid” anecdote: what makes you think the “it,” the “new” school or modes of learning that you apparently have in mind though haven’t quite fully articulated will be not boring for everyone?

In sum, then, I think “we” are putting broken carts before the horses. “We” are concentrating too much on the “why change” argument without first fully and clearly articulating what it is “we” want from schools.  Furthermore, the “why change” arguments, I argue (meta?), are fundamentally flawed.

There are lots of reasons for the institution of schooling to be transformed.  Likewise, there are lots of reasons to consider the affordances of ubiquitous computing for learning.  I ask you to help me think through those reasons in ways that are well-informed and logical…especially those of you with whom I hope to have fully maximized face-to-face experiences this weekend at Educon. I look forward to deliberating with many of you there!

There’s quite a bit of really good edublogging and commenting that lies at the intersection of “change” and “21st Century Schools” (see e.g. Chris Lehmann’s blog and Will Richardson’s blog).  As one who has studied extensively the research and literature on school reform, school change, policy implementation, etc., I’m having a hard time with a few aspects of the conversations that are going on.

First of all, what are we changing?  Are we talking about a classroom (i.e. changing one teacher’s pedagogy?)?  Are we talking about changing multiple classrooms?  Are we talking about changing a whole school?  Are we talking about changing the whole institution of public schooling?  Those are all very different scenarios and require very different approaches.  And, it gets back to the macro vs. micro distinction I made in my last blog post.

More importantly, though, let’s please consider that there is a HUGE, DEEP pool of research and literature on school change. There’s not a huge need to re-think this stuff; there’s a lot to be learned from what has already been learned.

In the mid 1970’s, the Rand Corporation conducted a national study of four federally funded programs “intended to introduce and support innovative practices in the public schools.”  The Rand researchers examined a sample of 293 local projects funded by these four federal programs in 18 states.  This so-called “Change Agent” study remains the paragon of all “implementation” studies.  According to Milbrey McLaughlin (1990), one of the principal investigators on the Change Agent study:

“…the following strategies generally were seen to be ineffective:

• reliance on outside consultants
• packaged management approaches
• one-shot, pre-implementation training
• pay for training
• formal, summative evaluation
• comprehensive, system-wide projects

The following strategies generally were effective, especially when applied in concert:

• concrete, teacher-specific and extended training
• classroom assistance from local staff
• teacher observation of similar projects in other classrooms, schools, or districts
• regular project meetings that focused on practical issues
• teacher participation in project decisions
• local development of project materials
• principals’ participation in training (p. 12)”

Since the 1970’s we’ve learned even more about change and policy implementation.  McLaughlin revisited the study in an article in 1990.  Her main conclusion there was that some of the findings of the original study needed to be reconsidered, but mostly, things remained the same.  “A general finding of the Change Agent study that has become almost a truism is that it is exceedingly difficult for policy to change practice, especially across levels of government (p. 12)”  In one study I conducted, I was able to determine that of all the variance in student computer use across the country, less than 2% could be accounted for by differences in state-level policies.  An additional study of the effects of state-level policies on pedagogy showed that 3% of the variance in teaching practices could be attributed to state-level polcies.  As the Change Agent study taught us, effective change in schools doesn’t happen by “adoption,” it happens by mutual adaptation; the adaptation of a project or policy and the organizational setting to each other.

So, what does this all mean?  Well, I think we’d all to well to internalize the bullets above as a list of what works.  First, one-and-done, sit-and-git PD doesn’t work; it has to be ongoing and as close to the classrooms/teachers as possible.  Second, teachers must be included in the change process, especially as learners.  Third, leadership must be involved at all stages and at all levels.  Finally, change is interpreted locally and the context of the institution adapts along with the change.

I also want to bring our attention to the final bullet in the list of ineffective strategies: comprehensive, system-wide projects don’t work.  We can’t change the system all at once.  So, it seems to me that School 2.0 is going to have to come about in one of two ways.  Either we get enough teachers and leaders to understand why change needs to happen in their schools and HOW that happens effectively (and what not to do).  Or, we go outside the “system.”

There’s an interesting discussion happening in a comment thread over at Will Richardson’s blog.  If I could summarize, I’d say the conversation is about how large-scale, future-oriented school change might happen.  Will and others are searching for ways to make change happen consistent with what he and we know about what’s possible.  I particularly like the idea of folks like Will delivering keynotes at conferences such as AASA and ASCD.  I think the ed. tech. echo chamber needs to “infiltrate” the general ed. world.

It occurs to me, though, that someone (me?) also needs to infiltrate higher education and schools of education in particular.  I can’t speak for all schools of education, and what evidence I do have is anecdotal.  But, here’s what I believe to be happening in the places that serve pre-service teachers and school leaders:

• Courses on school change or school reform, if they are offered at all, are typically taught in departments of educational leadership.  That’s understandable, but shouldn’t pre-service teachers understand theories of change?
• The school reform courses typically focus on reform per se; i.e. how does change happen (theories of change).  However, there’s not much emphasis on the “why” or the “towards what”.  There might be some discussion of changing school climate or school culture, but I don’t know of many education faculty members who are leading courses on future-oriented change.
• The technology courses are just that, courses.  Typically, a pre-service teacher ed. program will include one (maybe two) standalone tools-oriented courses (here’s how you can use PowerPoint with your kids!).  The use of technology is not integrated across the teaching methods courses.  You’ll typically find one faculty member in each department of teaching and learning who is the “tech. prof.”  She/he teaches those standalone courses.
• I know that in the school of education in which I currently work, and the one I left last year, there are no cross-department conversations about the future of education.  Everyone is so focused on the here and now, meeting accreditation demands and other practical matters of making sure our students are prepared to work with their students.

So, my number one priority for this year is to make change happen locally.  I’m going to insist that my colleagues join me in learning about the future of education and the future of schooling.  As that happens, we’ll discuss the implications for us as professors of education.  I will argue that we are preparing educators for an outmoded system; others will push back.  That would be wonderful.

photo credit: MarmotChaser

Last night, I watched and recorded the HBO documentary, Hard Times at Douglass High: A No Child Left Behind Report Card.  Hard Times is essentially a “year-in-the-life” cinema verite type film that “documents” the inner workings of one high school in Baltimore, MD that serves only African-American students (as a result of de facto segregation).  I’m recommending the documentary, with lots of caveats.  My greatest concern is that the film will feed streotypes about urban high schools.  My greatest hope is that people will watch the film and wake up to the reality that schooling, particularly in urban areas, is a difficult and complex institution that does not work for too many young people.

Though I’ve never taught in an urban high school, my research projects have allowed me to spend a LOT of time in various urban schools all across the country.  I’ve also taken courses on urban education, read all of the classic books about urban education, etc.  So, nothing in the film surprised me and I learned nothing new.  So, I’m guessing the film was not made for people like me.

However, for those who’ve only “heard about” schools like Douglass High (even writing “schools like…” is value laden and probably not my best choice of words), I imagine the film is pretty startling.  There’s a real sense of hopelessness, indifference and/or resignation that permeates the film.  There are a couple of nice stories about a few of the students, but mostly the statistics cited throughout the film are terrifyingly bad and the negative stories certainly outweigh the bad.  The images of students sleeping through the administration of the state tests are disturbing.  The “so be it” attitude of some of the teachers is really upsetting.  This is not a film to watch if you’re looking for a pick-me-up.

My own takes?  As a professor of educational leadership, I was wholly unimpressed by the principal.  She seemed kind and well-meaning, but she was not at all inspiring or personable.  I believe that school would be better served by someone with tons of energy, ideas and enthusiasm.  Also, I don’t understand the use of NCLB in the subtitle of the film.  Other than the frequent citing of statistics about outcomes, the film is NOT about NCLB; it’s simply an ethnographic look at one urban high school.

Having watched the film in the week leading up to NECC, I’m left conflicted.  On one hand, it feels like going to a conference with a massive exhibit hall loaded with glitzy, expensive products sold by many lucrative companies is so wrong-headed. How can interactive white boards and Google Earth, for example, help the kids in Douglass High, many of whom worry about where they will get their next meal?  Or, how can I concern myself with “big ideas” about the future of schooling and tech.-driven learning theories when there are so many schools like Douglass High where the status quo is simply unacceptable?  On the other hand, I wonder if discussing and thinking about “big ideas” like Classroom 2.0 or School 2.0 might help me think about ways to blow up the status quo.  I mean, what if “the best and brightest” thinkers at NECC were to be given the power to convert Douglass High into School 2.0?

A while back, David Jakes laid down a gauntlet to edubloggers and asked if we were ready to “earn it – really earn it” at NECC.  Well, I challenge those same folks to “step up” and figure out how the issues and ideas discussed at NECC (especially NECC Unplugged and Edubloggercon) can be used to serve those most in need of school reform.