Procession Towards Learning Land

Activists not entrepreneurs

 One of the key threads that seemed to be coming through the first day of the Learning Without Frontiers conference was the notion of entrepreneurial education. Ray Kurzweil most notably promoted this idea and as an enormously successful technology entrepreneur himself perhaps that was hardly surprising. Kurzweil is clearly a much more intelligent individual than me (another key theme of the conference would be that of me feeling insignificant and intellectually deficient) but nevertheless he made me deeply uneasy.

The main issue is that I struggle with the word 'entrepreneur', particularly in education. For me the word is tainted irretrievably by my having grown up in Thatchers' Scotland when 'entrepreneur' was embodied in 'me first' wide boys desperate to strip communities of services in the pursuit of personal short term financial profit. Yes, that's my personal baggage but we all are informed by our personal contexts either as action or reaction. And weaknesses can be strengths.

Supporters of entrepreneurial education might argue that the word is there to be reclaimed, to be turned to good. They might suggest that the key is in people identifying problems as opportunities and taking action. Getting things done. Making things happen.

Such an intention is splendid. But wouldn't 'Activist' be a much better word for what we describe?

I don't think it's just a question of semantics either. Language is important and in these times more than ever it's a question of taking sides. Those who would use 'entrepreneur' on the side that deifies the mythic Market and the 'activist' supporters on the side that would champion cooperation and equity over competition.

Jaron Lanier suggested that the problem with the entrepreneurial model is that few people can be at the top of that particular tree. It's a traditional pyramid of power/wealth model. If we agree with that (and I do), then if we adopt an entrepreneurial approach to education                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   are we not simply knowingly setting up young people for failure? And is that really so different to what currently exists?

Of course the notion of failure is essential to learning. Without failure we cannot learn. That's a given. But it's more than that isn't it? Isn't taking an entrepreneurial approach to education knowingly ensnaring young people in a lie? Isn't the message of "you can all be successful entrepreneurs" just another aspect of the vile X-Factor culture (what the late great Malcolm McClaren called 'karaoke culture' at LWF a couple of years ago) that says "you can all be stars"?

Doesn't such an approach continue to devalue the significance of the majority of those who make up our societies? I would argue that in our capitalised cultures the notion of entrepreneurial education is hardly disruptive or radical but is instead just a different way of maintaing the status quo. And in these days of financial instability and broken systems is that really such a great idea?

Instead, let us see approaches that promote equity and cooperation. Let's see educational activists, not entrepreneurs.

Say Something Magical. (reflections on BETT)

I visited BETT last week. I’ve been to this enormous educational technology show in London almost every year for the past eight or so. Now it may just be indicative of my increasing age and correspondingly elevated rates of grumpiness, but I admit that every year I find it less exciting and relevant; every year the thrill of finding a golden nugget seems to diminish, swamped beneath hordes of young Primary teachers excitedly stashing cheap promotional SWAG into carrier bags. But as I say, that’s maybe just my cynical age talking.

Technologically there are always new things to see at BETT. A fancy gadget here, a faster system there. There are many shiny trinkets to generate consumer passion on display. But educationally? Educationally I’m afraid it has felt suffocated and jaded for some time.

Perhaps that was why the biggest talking point this year was not any technology, but rather Michael Gove’s show-opening speech in which he announced the Government’s intention to disapply the programmes of study in ICT from September 2012. Everywhere you turned it seemed that someone had an opinion on the exciting new landscape offering opportunities for The Future Of ICT In Schools. Well, it made a change from hearing yet another tedious sales pitch about Interactive Whiteboards and VLEs. And much as I vehemently disagree with just about everything else he has said about education, I thought that in this instance Gove was pretty much spot on. 

Of course the discussions about the implications of Mr Gove’s speech continue to reverberate and develop post-BETT as ICT Subject Leaders and teachers all over England feverishly consider and discuss the question of The Future Of ICT In Schools. Interestingly, opinions seem to be split into one of two camps. On the one hand there are those (hanging around Starbucks armed with Netbooks running Windows 7) who are fixating on the delicious morsel that is Computer Science. On the other there are those (posing with iPads and asking Siri for directions to the nearest independent coffee shop) who have interpreted Digital Literacy in a more media-oriented manner and are even now smacking their lips in anticipation of teaching Year 7 how to uninstall MS Office and go and do something less boring instead. It’s going to be interesting to see how these two camps navigate the months ahead as more detailed thinking eventually emerges from the DFE (ha!). Who will prove to have made the wisest choices in the long run?

Not to say that the two camps are not finding middle ground. They do both seem to unite around the idea that youngsters might learn about programming by creating games. This inevitably leads to further disagreement of course, as camp two talk excitedly about the iOS platform and the other witters on about Flash (stop sniggering at the back).

Now I’m no gamer, but I do understand that youngsters learn transferable skills through the creation of games (and possibly the playing of some of them). I’ll even give you the word ‘valuable’ in that sentence if you want it. Indeed, I might even stretch to ‘invaluable’ on a good day. But those invaluable skills will not necessarily be in the realms of programming. They will be skills wrapped up in creative process, risk taking and imaginative problem finding and solving. The ‘code’ is just the language and you can say Nothing Very Interesting in any language you want. It remains Nothing Very Interesting. Nada Muy Interesante. Någonting Mycket Intressant. ничего не очень интересно. You get the idea...

In case you hadn’t already guessed as much, I think it’s fair to say that my own sympathies , such as they are, lie with the second of these two camps. I may pass on the Siri interaction though. Never understood why I would want to talk to my phone when it wasn’t connected to another (real) person on the other end. But again, see comments about my age in the opening paragraph.

The key here however is ultimately not whether you are in the Starbucks/Windows 7 camp or the iOS/indie coffee shop gang. It’s not whether you celebrate opportunities for exploring the science of computing or explore digital storytelling through the medium of video and/or song (for example). No, the key (as it always really was and ever will be) is about (re)designing the provision that you offer young people in your community such that they are engaged and excited about that provision. It’s about creating opportunities to investigate, create and share with the world.

Let’s not squander the opportunity. Let’s empower our young people to Say Something Magical.

No-notice inspections? Bring it on!

It would be easy to knee-jerk in response to the news that Ofsted are proposing no-notice inspections. But much as I may want to disagree with everything Michael Gove says, I actually welcome these words: “No-notice inspections, especially where behaviour and teaching standards are of concern, will provide parents and others a true picture of schools' performance.” 

I’m assuming here that the no-notice inspection would be triggered by a few parents having a (very possibly justified) whinge on the Parent View website. But really, does anyone expect anything except a few negative comments appearing on that service? It’s always the same in our society of media-driven tales of doom and gloom. The negative minority is given a voice far in excess of that of the positive majority. 

So isn’t this an opportunity for schools and teachers to show off what terrific work they genuinely do on a day to day basis? Isn’t this an opportunity to silence that nagging doubt that says “ah well anyone can deliver a good or outstanding lesson when they know they’re under the spotlight”? Isn’t this an opportunity to give lie to those negative few who insist that all young people today are feral and that all behaviour in all our schools is atrocious?

And isn’t to suggest otherwise a tacit admission of failure even before the process begins?

Confusing office with Office

I keep reading about this CloudOn app that allows you to use Microsoft Office on an iPad. I don’t understand the fuss. Are people so prohibitively attached to one software solution that it clouds (excuse the pun) judgement?

Of course I lied when I said I don’t understand the fuss. I do. It’s the question I am most often asked about the iPad: “does it have Microsoft Office on it?” I think perhaps it’s most often asked by people who also think that the iPad will be a replacement for a desktop machine (or even laptop). It isn’t. It’s a supplemental device (albeit very powerful and getting better all the time). But it does very much depend on what you want to do/create...

For example if all you use Word for is to write fairly simple documents and maybe put in the occasional picture then you don’t actually need Word at all (on an iPad, laptop, desktop or anywhere). You just need a simple word processor. I use Pages on my iPad mainly because it integrates well with my workflow on my Mac, but there are other word processor apps that work just as well and that cost less. Try some out. Ditto presentation software. Actually presentation software is one of the most abused pieces of equipment ever invented and although it is very rare that I would use Keynote on my iPad to actually create a presentation I do wonder if the rather strict limitations of the app could be seen as a positive. No more wacky flying text or embarrassing transitions. Imagine it! Bliss!

And spreadsheets? I admit I do not understand Excel. I find it the most opaque piece of software imaginable, but I appreciate that it is not really created for people like me (people who like pictures). I know that for people who see data and numbers as Very Exciting Things, Excel is the best thing since buttered sliced toast. But really, even I can see that an iPad is not something you would want to be using to create or to look at a large spreadsheet full of complex, erm, Things (you can see what a fine technical grasp I have of this). Anyway, I have found that 90% of the spreadsheets I am sent open and look fine in Numbers on the iPad. Actually 90% of spreadsheets I am sent aren’t really spreadsheets at all, they are just tables of information that require no data interrogation and would consequently work just as well for the end user as a PDF.

Having recently spent over two weeks away from home with my iPad as my only device I realised that for many things I just don’t need a powerful desktop machine or laptop. Admittedly I was, for most of that period technically on holiday, but nevertheless I could still write and publish blog posts. I could still send my photos to Flickr. I could still email my colleagues and friends and take part in interesting conversations about Christmas telly on Twitter. I could still write and edit documents for work. I could, and did, read copious amounts of books via my Kindle app and I kept up to date with the world (such as it is) via the Interwebs. I watched TV and movies in my sleepless dead of night thanks to iTunes and iPlayer amongst others. I could even have made and edited my own small videos if I had wanted to, but I didn’t think a video diary about daily trips to an Intensive Care Unit over the Christmas period would have made particularly compelling viewing.

So really of course this point about “does Microsoft Office work on an iPad” isn’t about Microsoft Office at all. It’s about those wider questions of what we actually need our technology for. It’s about those questions tied to what we need to create, to consume and to share. Only when we know the answers to those questions do we need to worry about what tools are best. And when we do ask and answer those questions I’ll bet you that nine times out of ten ‘Microsoft Office’ is not the answer.

Taking another learning walk

Like any teacher there always seems to be a multitude of things vying for my attention and time. In spite of this I determinedly made time these past two days to get out and do some learning walks. I’m so glad I did because it meant that I saw some wonderful things happening and as a result I feel recharged and full of enthusiasm. 

First of all I went where I feel most comfortable in terms of teaching. Art rooms nearly always make me feel good. I love the fact that there are usually interesting and inspiring examples of students’ work on the walls. Certainly that’s always the case at Tiverton High School! As an Art & Design teacher myself it’s obviously a subject area where I feel most at home, but despite that I nevertheless felt challenged and inspired by what I saw. Year 8 students were at the end of a project where they had created a variety of 3D work using recycled materials. Some had made stand alone sculptures (I especially liked the palm tree) whilst others had been very creative in making wearable items such as hats, jackets, skirts and dresses! When I arrived at the lesson the students were going round doing some peer assessment on their work. They seemed really motivated by this and everyone was writing some good comments. It was obvious that the teacher had made success criteria for the project very clear. After this came the highlight of the lesson: a fashion show to display the wearable sculpture work! Every single student was engaged either as a model or as a member of the audience. Lots of students used their phones to take photos or video the show, and it was made clear to everyone that photos and video should only be shared with the permission of those being photographed and never made public. This was a really nice opportunity to reinforce learning about online responsibility in a subect area where you might not have expected it. It was really wonderful to see this group of mixed ability year 8 students take so much ownership of their learning, and I would really like to use the peer-assessment idea more often and more formally in my GCSE classes.

Next door to the Art lesson (and in another Art room) a year 7 English lesson was taking place. Here I saw some wonderfully relaxed yet purposeful relationships with students. The interaction between teacher and student was friendly yet focused. An ideal combination! What struck me most going into the English lesson from the Art one was just how tightly planned and structured the English lesson seemed in comparison. That’s not to say the Art lesson wasn’t carefully planned (it was!), just that the nature of the subject seems to lead to a different kind of implementation. English lessons in particular always seem to have lots of things like card-sorts and structured group exercises going on and I admit I always find that harder to relate to. I am so used to the idea of the individual artist pursuing their own creative furrow and this way of working always feels a little alien to me, even though I can see it works. This throws up a question I’m not sure I know the answer to: To what extent does one go against one’s personal impetus and perceived strengths just to deliver one’s teaching in a way that works for others? Is this just about challenging one’s comfort zones for the sake of it?

Speaking of English I popped into another two lessons this morning. One tempted me in by the open door policy in the department, allowing me see a lesson being conducted in candlelight! I don’t know what the health and safety implications of that would be, but it created a wonderful atmosphere for Year 8 learning about Gothic writing. Changing the atmosphere of the regular learning environment can obviously be a great way of re-invigorating engagement.

The next English class had some more Year 8 students, this time teaching each other. Although I only arrived at the end of the lesson it was obvious that they had worked in groups to identify key quotes from a text and were feeding back their findings to the whole class. Everyone was taking it very seriously and were quite obviously fully motivated to learn. I really enjoyed the short time I was there, not least because I recognised one of the texts as being from Daphne Du Maurier’s ‘Rebecca’! Again, this challenged me to consider how I might use such a strategy in my own teaching. When would it be appropriate? To what extent does the success of such a strategy depend on the regularity of its use? Would the introduction of such a strategy in my own teaching feel like an awkward stranger at a party? And if so, is that an acceptable reason for shying away from it?

Sharing good practice is a moral obligation

One of the songs I’ve been playing a lot recently is Paperfangs’ remix of Big Wave Riders’ ‘Republic Of The Average’. Into the first part of this mix Paperfangs drop an extract from John F Kennedy’s convocation speech at Amherst College from back in October 1963: 

“There is inherited wealth in this country and also inherited poverty. And unless the graduates of this college and other colleges like it who are given a running start in life—unless they are willing to put back into our society those talents, the broad sympathy, the understanding, the compassion—unless they are willing to put those qualities back into the service of the Great Republic, then obviously the presuppositions upon which our democracy are based are bound to be fallible.”

This resonates for many reasons, not least because it seems to me that it captures the essence of why I believe being a teacher is one of the most personally rewarding professions anyone could enter. It also resonates because it strikes me that it is beholden on teachers to share with each other their own learning experiences - to put back into the service of, if not the Great Republic as perceived by Kennedy, at least a transformative structure that strives to genuinely democratise notions of learning.

In our current technological context this means that it should be the norm, not the exception that teachers develop global Personal Learning Networks and not be tied to the limiting physical confines of ‘their school’. It should be the norm, not the exception that teachers are engaged in ongoing reflective practice and publishing something of their working experiences and learning visions; not necessarily as a means of gathering further qualification but as a means of improving the quality of learning experience for students. These things should be as intrinsic and instinctive as lesson planning, and the skills required for doing so effectively should be valued as highly as any other learning and teaching skill.

This places responsibility on teacher training institutions, and it places responsibility on individual schools to embed those skills within the culture of teaching. More than anything though it places responsibility on the individual to accept that responsibility and to acknowledge it as at least as much of a moral obligation as a professional one. 

Why I never set homework

David Price recently wrote a fine piece about homework. His closing paragraph was particularly priceless (excuse the pun):

“And here's one final thought: if a parent comes back from a hard day's work, and is praised for refusing to bring work home, because time with the family is sacrosanct, how is it acceptable to ask a child to work 6 hours at school, and then forsake time with the family, to do another 2-3 hours at home?”

Personally I do not think I have set homework for any of my classes for what must be close to a decade. I am conscious that this goes against ‘official’ school policy but there you are. I’m aware too that I’m somewhat out of the spotlight because 1. I teach an Arts subject and no-one really cares about those, right? 2. these days I only teach GCSE groups and 3. I’m fortunate in that the subject I teach (graphic design) is not ‘content’ led.

But be that as it may, as David points out anyway, “there is no clear causal proof that links homework to improved student outcomes at secondary level”. That certainly reflects my own experiences. My evidence? In the past decade my GCSE class results (all mixed ability groups) have seldom fallen below 90% A*-C and student individual residuals have remained amongst the highest in the school. All with no homework being set.

Apologies if that sounds like my ego at work. It’s not meant to. I’m simply pointing out that students can get high level passes without doing any homework and that the positive gains from not doing so far outweigh the cons. And the most positive gain? By far it would be the fact that I am able to develop positive learning relationships with students in my classroom without the hovering spectre of potential conflict over incomplete homework and accompanying sanctions.

Outstanding teaching and learning has its foundations in trusted, focused relationships between learner and teacher. It comes from teachers having the confidence to take risks and to cede ‘control’ to the learner. As a teacher, the nurturing of these factors within the learning environment you have influence over is immeasurably more valuable than any work produced in one you don’t.

And the bonus? I think many of my students are more likely to want to continue learning in their own time as a result of all this. It’s a win/win. What’s not to like?

'On strike' - a learning walk observation

I stumbled upon a Year 11 Citizenship lesson yesterday. They were all sitting outside in the Peace Garden and I was intrigued as to what was going on. It turned out the teacher was ‘on strike’ about childcare provision and was attempting to persuade the rest of the class to come out in sympathy. It struck me as a good way of leading students into a discussion about/understanding of the factors involved in industrial actions.

What I liked most about what I saw (and I was only able to stay for a short period of time) was the use of a different learning environment. Taking the students outside is not something we can always plan for in the UK (particularly not in the middle of October) and it seems to me that we need to be flexible enough in our medium to short term planning to allow ourselves to take advantage of outdoor learning opportunities.

I also liked how the teacher was effectively casting themselves as a character. It allowed for subtly different interactions to take place between learners and teacher.

 

I want to keep a Learning Walk blog!

My school is encouraging staff to take learning walks whenever they have some available time. Staff are encouraged to visit other classes in different areas of the school and to reflect on what they see happening. It's part of a drive from good to outstanding teaching.

One of the key elements of making this work is in establishing conversations about (outstanding) learning and teaching. I'm trying to encourage staff to blog about their learning walks as a way of encouraging reflective practice and enabling those learning and teaching conversations. Here's my advice:

Why would I want to publish a blog about my learning walks?

One of the main functions of the learning walks is to get us all thinking about what outstanding learning and teaching looks like. Reflecting on, and engaging in a dialogue about what we see are key parts of that process.  Blogging enables both of those parts of the process to take place easily.

How do I go about blogging?

Step 1: Set up a blog. There are loads of options. 

If you have a Google account you can create a blog on www.blogger.com for free (and if you don’t have a Google account yet, it’s free and easy to set one up!) www.edublogs.org is also free and is focused on education. www.posterous.com is free and is also popular with educators.

Step 2a: start to post to your blog.

There is no blueprint for blog posts. Whatever works for you is fine. If a blank piece of (virtual) paper scares you, just start describing what you saw and edit your words after you’ve got something down. If the very act of writing turns you off, you could do an audio or video recording of your thoughts and post that. There is no right or wrong way!

Step 2b: but think about what you are saying....

Having said there is no right or wrong, there are a couple of things to bear in mind:

Remember your blog is public. That’s a good thing because it means your potential audience is global. It’s also good in that remembering that fact makes you think really carefully about what you say. This very act in itself is a valuable part of reflective practice.

Don’t mention any teachers (or students!) you see by name. Apart from the fact that other people may be uncomfortable about having their name up in lights on your blog the learning walks process is about what practice you see happening, not about personalities. Try phrasing sentences like “I was in a Math lesson and I saw the teacher inspiring a student by doing a magic trick related to a Maths problem. It was a great way of developing a positive relationship with the student.”

You don’t need to write an essay. Sometimes a couple of lines (or even one) is enough.

Step 3: tell everyone about your blog!

When you’ve set up your blog, let people know about it. Send emails with the URL of your blog (the bit that goes “www.blogger.com/myblog” etc) to other staff. This is important because of step 4...

Step 4: have a dialogue

One of the greatest things about blogs is that they allow other people to comment. A comments section on a blog can be a great way of opening up a dialogue with someone who you might find it difficult to have a conversation with during the day (maybe your free times don’t overlap, or you do clubs at lunchtime or you have to pick up your own kids after school or you’re too shy...). It also gives you the opportunity to open your personal learning network (PLN) out beyond the physical boundaries of the school building (and the school hours).

What 'you' want isn't necessarily what kids need to be...

I read this with something approaching despair.

"One large, international firm said: "Young people have unrealistic expectations of the work that they will be doing.""

As an educator I can only apologise to large, international firms for raising my students’ expectations of what they can achieve in life. I also apologise for making them think that adults will appreciate the skills they do have rather than those they don’t. And for sugesting to them that creativity and inquisitiveness are more important than blind obedience...