Category Archives: #walkmyworld

The Leftovers

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At a recent event I had the joy of reintroducing Kindergarten activities to a group of educators. It was a simple project, really. With magazines, calendars, and books (yes, BOOKS) in hand, these very serious adults took on the task of cutting and ripping and tearing pieces in order to create a new piece of artwork. The fancy term, of course, is remix. It is a buzzword of this digital literacy age we’re in, and really an important way of thinking critically and imaginatively. Dr. Donna Alvermann and UGA doctoral candidate Crystal Beach set the stage for this particular presentation two years ago with their Becoming 3lectric project that set out to study remix in the digital space. The three of us collaborated on this event and presented together.

The energy in the room resonated with laughter and chatter – just as it should for a group of adults exploring their inner children. They shared their creations and admired each others’ work and the stories that accompanied them.

At the end of the session one participant struggled with how to connect everything together in her own mind relating to her students, her classes, and her own realities. She enjoyed the project itself because it was a fun release in an information heavy conference, but the rationale for its importance eluded her. In her attempt to make me understand, she pointed to the discarded remnants of the pages she didn’t use and said, “But what about the leftovers?”

The leftovers. I was in the process of cleaning the room for the next session coming in, but her question stopped me cold. Maybe it was the moment, but I suddenly thought, not so much about the leftover materials, but about the leftovers. The materials, after all, were outdated and used things that were already bound for the refuse bin, so the paper scraps and bits were not the actual issue, at least not in my mind.

No, what struck me was that, in my enthusiasm for a hands-on fun learning experience, I neglected to fully engage a whole segment of the audience: those who are uncomfortable with the messiness of learning unless they understand the rational behind it. Most people are game to try new things if they know why it matters. Some people don’t need to know why before they jump in with total abandon. And others, like myself, enjoy the process of constructing meaning from the exercise that makes sense with our own points of view. Most of the people who chose to attend this session fit one of these three categories, but there was a under-represented fourth group that deserved a better answer that I was unprepared to give.Virtureal

So, why do this project and how does it fit into the real world of the English Language Arts classroom?  I think one reason is the connections we make between others who wander the planet with us. When we remix work done by others into something new, we insert our lives into theirs and we become co-constructors of meaning and relationship even though the players may never meet.

What do we know based on this interaction? Maybe knowing is in the experience of mingling our thoughts with the ideas of others. Dewey wrote about the experimental practice of knowing and certainly remix is active experiment. What do we learn about ourselves, our identities, and maybe our insecurities through a process of remix? Are we making a statement that perhaps our version of other people’s work is superior? Or do we unveil our own uncertainties about our own contributions to the dialogue around us?

This is a discussion worth having, particularly as paradigms about education and knowing shift under our feet. Once education focused on survival skills and community support. It was practical, ensuring students could read and write enough to be considered literate, and to be able to function sufficiently in mathematics to be a contributor to a local economy. More recently the standardized multiple choice test became the dominant measure of knowing something.  This policy, long criticized by classroom teachers, now faces refinement and no one is quite sure yet what the next step will look like. But educators still hold to the heart of their passion: teaching students, not to take tests, but to survive and thrive in a rapidly changing world. Remix may not change the world, but it can change a child in a classroom who is given the freedom and opportunity to explore him/herself by interacting with the words and art of those who have gone before.

And that’s why it matters. Not just because it’s fun, but because the opportunity for reflection and connection creates meaning between generations and people and cultures. Because, while there may be students who know who they are and don’t mind messy exploration, there are others who identify more with the leftover scraps than the whole pieces. I created this piece with the same scraps that had so bewildered our participant.  The purpose may not always be obvious, but it is present.

There are no leftovers; only beauty waiting to be discovered.

There are no leftovers; only beauty waiting to be discovered.

 

 

 

 

 

References

Dewey, J. (1984). The play of ideas. In J.A. Boydston (Ed.), John Dewey, the later works. Volume 4: 1929,  The quest for certainty. Carbondale and Edwardsville, IL: Southern Illinois University Press.

Ganzel, B. (2007).  Education in rural America. Retrieved from http://www.livinghistoryfarm.org/farminginthe50s/life_12.html

 

 

 

 

 

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Identity formation and Walking

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I wrote this on Medium and thought I’d share here as well.

We live in a connected world. That said, we seem to be more isolated than ever before. There are coffee shops that promote face to face conversation by eliminating wifi and informal games that require groups in restaurants to put down their mobile devices (because the handheld technologies are far more than phones these days) or foot the bill for the entire party. Ray Bradbury saw it coming and wrote about it (remember Mildred’s “seashells” from Fahrenheit 451?)

The challenge for those of us who choose to embrace the digital spaces is to create authentic connections with people across time, distance, and cultural differences. For me, it’s one of the most exciting things about #walkmyworld. Because it is designed to be a fun collaboration of identities around learning events, the stress level for perfection is reduced. Even though the learning events include content instruction that is easily augmented in particular classrooms, the tone is light and engaging, so the threat level is low. People from around the world come to play, and it becomes a true multi-cultural experience among like minded people of all ages. There are elementary and secondary students, graduate students, pre-service teachers, and professors all involved, but no one is an expert. Instead, all participants are learning and sharing together in a virtual community of equals.

Since this is my third year as part of Walk My World, I think I have a sense of what to expect: expect the unexpected. Unexpected learning, unexpected friendships, and unexpected glimpses into a digital identity still in formation and ever evolving. This is how a connected world can work: people being authentic, sharing an experience, and learning how to walk together.

Walk My World

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It’s here! It’s time!

Walk My World begins its third iteration this week. I have helped craft the learning events and I think this will be the best year ever.

Join the fun here! The first week is all about getting set, so jump right in!

 

On Rhizomatic Learning, Virtual Connections, and Sherwood Anderson

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For several weeks I have been immersed in a digital world. Coming back into a face-to-face reality has given me pause to reflect on the contrast between what is “virtual” and what is “real.”

It’s really Simon Ensor’s fault. In a Google Hangout during a conference, Simon asked someone to define “virtual buddy.”  He asked the question again on Twitter. He followed that with a blog post. And then he wrote a poem about belonging.  And so I started thinking.

The Hangout that began the process was a “between” space during the annual conference for the Association for Learning Technology, this year in Manchester, England. A number of presenters were from a virtually connected associates discussing a project called #Rhizo14. I had followed along with #Rhizo15 in connection while actively participating in #clmooc (another virtually connected community focused on learning), so I had an interest in the conference, even though I could not attend. I was introduced to the “between” Hangouts during yet another conference about hybrid pedagogy (#digped) when I was invited to participate by colleagues I met on Twitter through #clmooc. *

These “between” spaces were supposed to be a sort of “third space” for collaborative discussion about the keynote speakers at the conference. As they evolved they became a sort of debriefing for participants while the online participants (from all over the world) became sort of eavesdroppers who gleaned whatever information came through the on site players. It made me feel both connected and disconnected at the same time. When the on site players shared a single computer their conversation was often between themselves as they developed tactile relationships while the rest of us watched. When they returned to conference activities, those of us left in the Hangout tried to make sense of the information and even found ways to create our own “mini-sessions” of informal collaboration.  While I had connected with many of the participants (both on site and online) before this conference, Simon’s question made me consider the reality of those relationships beyond the words shared on the screen.

In a reflective post about Rhizo15, Dave Cormier discusses the challenges of creating a structured community in an unstructured idea (rhizomatic learning is by nature without formal structure). How can individuals belong to a community without creating a division between “we” and “them”; in this case those who had been around since the first experiment (Rhizo14) and the newbies who were just figuring out the concept? Dave writes far more eloquently than I about the conflict between Instructivism and Constructivism, but it all goes back to Simon’s original query: What exactly is a virtual buddy?

I have playing on the digital playground long enough that I no longer consciously differentiate between local acquaintances and those whom I have only met online. In many ways, I often feel MORE connected to those virtual friends because we have to make an effort to connect across time zones, geography, and cultural barriers. Underneath that, however is a common interest in how to harness the power of the internet to make education both accessible and relevant to as many people as want it. Along the way we discover other common interests: knitting, photography, Doctor Who, and other facets of life that have nothing whatever to do with education.

So are these friends “real”? And if they are, why is there a disconnect when some of them are together in a place while others of us connect from our own individual spaces? This whole new world of digital relationships and collaborations is messy. But then, new things are often messy. And not always “right”, especially at the beginning.

This idea of messy newness is a reflection of something Sherwood Anderson said to William Faulkner in June, 1953:

…America ain’t cemented and plastered yet. They’re still building it. That’s why a man with ink in his veins not only still can but sometimes has still got to keep on moving around in it, keeping moving around and listening and looking and learning. That’s why ignorant unschooled fellows like you and me not only have a chance to write, they must write…it won’t ever be quite right, but there is always next time; there’s always more ink and paper and something else to try to understand and tell. And that probably wont be exactly right either, but then there is a next time to that one , too. Because tomorrow’s America is going to be something different, something more and new to watch and listen to and try to understand; and, even if you can’t understand, believe.

(as cited in Meriwether, 2004, p. 8)

And there is the answer. Online relationships won’t ever feel “quite right”, but we must keep trying new ways to connect and eventually we will see something “different…more and new” that, even if we don’t fully understand, we can believe. In its imperfections, there is still connection. Perhaps the best part of being “virtual buddies” is the journey we are taking together into something unexpected.

 

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*All the acronyms are confusing, but much of the hybrid pedagogy/virtual connections take place on Twitter with extensions to Facebook and/or Google Plus. All of the things in which I participated were forms of MOOCs (massive open online courses) geared toward educators who wanted to explore and promote the idea of open learning. Rhizo  is based on the idea of the rhizome plant, one that sends out new growth from its roots so that the visible growth is supported by an underground structure that is interconnected. Dave Cormier is probably the leading expert in the current iteration and his ideas on the purpose of education need more thought that I intend for this particular post. DigPed is attached to the Hybrid Pedagogy journal. The Connected Learning MOOC (#clmooc) was a six-week course for educators organized mostly by professionals connected to Youth Voices. All of the hashtags are still active on Twitter.

 

 

 

 

References

Meriwether, J. B. ed. (2004), William Faulkner: Essays, speeches, & public letters. New York, NY: Modern Library. Random House, Inc.

Twitter: My Capstone PowerPoint

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Hopefully all the links are intact!

Presentation-EDUC7797 Capstone-May1-2015.pptx

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Twitter as a Tool: My Capstone Presentation

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I much prefer written words and live audiences to recordings, but this is good practice! I also used a new-to-me-tool to record, so be gentle in your critique. One thing is sure, I will continue to research and study and practice Twitter in the English/Language Arts classroom.

Twitter_logo_wordPart One

Part Two

Can Tools Shape the Mind and the Eye? A #walkmyworld Reflection

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DSC_0852_31Can tools shape the mind and eye? An interesting question posited by Greg McVerry (@jgmac1106) during a Twitter conversation that began with a #nofilter photograph I posted from my holiday at the beach and ended with a conversation about vision.

It’s not about technology.

At least, not really. And it certainly shouldn’t be.

Technology opens the world so that the eye can see farther than before and the mind explore ideas once hidden in isolated locales. Technology affords the ability to make connections with people and places far away by geography, but as close as the nearest computer. It’s a transformative idea for education. Textbooks become important supplemental resources to real time interaction with other cultures. Art and music become accessible to all students, even those who have no access to museums or symphonies. Tutoring is available from experts in minutes, rather than limited to scheduled sessions. Ideas can be exchanged through annotations or Twitter dialogues or shared blog posts. It is a new paradigm that shifts the learning model from one of reciting established ideas to developing new ones through unique connections.

Having said that, the elemental units of learning are unchanged. Curiosity will always drive discovery. Vision will always precede art. Necessity will always be the mother of invention. The mind and the eye are far more complex that even the most advanced artificial intelligence. The artist or reader or scientist brings himself (or herself) to the equation of learning. Experience, reason, logic, and emotion are all unique to the human mind. To see something in its parts as well as the whole is a function of the human eye. The ability to connect emotion to the parts of something seen is impossible to duplicate mechanically. The human element will always be more powerful than the technology no matter what science fiction tries to say.

One thing that #walkmyworld has demonstrated in the 20 weeks I have participated is that people are pretty much the same around the world. I understood this before, but this project illustrated the fact perfectly. The only really common ground was that the participants were involved in education and interested in technology. The learning events revealed our humanity. From the view from our front doors to the virtual high fives, we learned that we all start our days with motion and that we all appreciate encouragement, even from strangers. Maybe especially from strangers. We recognized how one poem or story can affect each person differently depending on his (or her) personal history. Make no mistake, the study of literature will never be completely free from personal interpretation. The best literature will always connect to the soul. We learned to see through the eyes of children in Australia, graduate students throughout the US, and a few (ahem) seasoned learners. We saw the importance of heroes, and the journeys each of us must take as we live out our lives.

Technology made the learning events open and available, but it was the mind and heart and willingness to risk vulnerability that made #walkmyworld work. Tools do not shape the mind and eye; the mind and eye use the tools to shape a connected culture.

#walkmyworld: Hero

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Heroes among us

This week’s learning event caused me a little angst.  I understand the hero’s journey in a literary sense, but we live in an age where true heroes come in unique forms. 

One of the distinctions between the heroes of myth and the heroes of the modern era is perception. Mythological heroes are revered, recognized, and celebrated by the people, and while they revel in the adoration, there is still a humility about them. Today, people recognized and revere celebrity, which is a false form of heroism. Celebrities generally do not serve the people, as a true hero does.  They may rise above difficult circumstances and accomplished great things, but for the most part, they keep the rewards of their ascent, which is antithetical to the true hero of old. True heroes may find wealth and prestige, but they are quick to share in order that the people benefit.
This fact requires a new view of the hero. Modern fictional heroes, like Batman and Superman, maintain a sense of anonymity when they do their good works, and there is a magnified dark side to each of them. On the other hand, the common man is able to become a hero without having great power over the masses, but rather be heroic on individual levels.
This is where teachers can be heroes. In this world, teachers do not have great wealth or power. Nor do they have widespread influence. They do not direct policy, curriculum, or even the standards by which they and their students are judged. Even still, teachers do take that hero’s journey from the call to adventure (and make no mistake, teaching is a calling), to the obstacles and abyss of preparation (grad school is often a desolate experience), to the gift to the people from that experience. Students in the classrooms of teachers who are called through difficulty to that role find they learn, not because there is a test at the end of the material, but because learning is a wonderful and exciting and even magical thing.
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