We've begun the senior project, and we're finding out so many things about what kids need to prepare them to be successful. Our freshman course needs work...could this sort of thing form a springboard to get those skills started??
A seminar course for the purpose of developing academic “muscle,” information literacy proficiency and digital citizenship
Personal identity as learners/scholars
Articulate a statement of purpose for the classroom and for individual
Select an area of personal interest over which the rest of the course will be laid.
Process is first area of focus. Read several articles and excerpts and discuss how processes work.
Work through the digital toolbox
• Library catalogs, tagging and electronic books – read at least one full length book on selected topic. Use available methods to tag, annotate, take notes, mark passages. Introduce and reinforce content reading strategies. Introduce and apply citation of books. Begin to keep an annotated bibliography in MLA format. Use appropriate digital tools to assist this process.
• Reflective writing will be part of each section. Select appropriate tools for this purpose – could use Word, OneNote, a blog, a class wiki, etc.
• Online databases will be explored next. Searching, annotating, using features of the databases will be explored. Again, reflection, new information, connections, etc. should be noted and written about. Close reading for bias, missing information and spin should be part of this section as well.
• Other online sources will also be addressed. Advanced searching in Google, critical use of Wikipedia, building a link library and personal web portal will be addressed. Diigo will be used, along with Delicious to create an annotated collection of links related to the topic being explored. Reflections will move to a blog at this point, so that sharing and effective commenting will be able to be addressed.
• Digital tools for sharing acquired knowledge will form the next focus of the seminar. Decisions will have to be made about how to share what’s been learned, and how to answer questions that have been raised by the reading and listening the students have done thus far on their area of interest. Tools for digital storytelling and other online methods of sharing knowledge will be explored. The ethical use of information, images, music and the creation and sharing of those things with the larger world will be discussed and acted upon.
The seminar culminates in a public exhibition of the work that has been done over the course of the semester. (A thoughtful point is made by Dean Shareski about the stages of sharing academic work) Attendees will be encouraged not only to listen to and watch presentations, but to ask questions and engage students In dialogue and debate about their work.
A final reflection about the experience will be the last component of the class. It will include a revised statement of purpose for the individual as learner/scholar.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Here's something to chew on
If the last few months of increasing political/cultural polarization have concerned you, this should really give you pause: http://diigo.com/0iv8w
There is now NO EXCUSE -- read, NONE -- for anyone who is an educator to ignore, overlook or minimize the necessity for kids to build a positive, proactive and principled social media presence. Even less of an excuse for educators themselves to neglect this.
There is now NO EXCUSE -- read, NONE -- for anyone who is an educator to ignore, overlook or minimize the necessity for kids to build a positive, proactive and principled social media presence. Even less of an excuse for educators themselves to neglect this.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Clearing the cobwebs
Found this as I was cleaning files, and as it still rings true to me, will post it.
In twenty years in this “business” of schooling, I've only gradually come to the full realization that all the while I was trying to perfect my lesson plans, trying to understand how I could to come to that nirvana of the full filing cabinet of pre-made, already prepared lessons, I was pursuing failure. I’d mistaken effectiveness for efficiency, denied the inherent messiness crucial to any creative endeavor. I think, sometimes, that the biggest trouble with schooling – the reason that real innovation usually eludes us, is the field's self-perpetuating nature. Those who did best under the industrial era model are now running the show. These are the “good” students – you know, the ones who don't ask questions, don't rock the boat with “unusual” notions. Pair that tendency to complacency with a healthy dose of fear/respect for “authority” and it's a pretty reliable recipe for keeping to the quantifiable. Even when we know (and we do, most of us) that this isn't working to the benefit of our students, we frequently lack the imagination or the guts (or in some cases, both) to make it different. And if we succeed in small ways, we rarely know it – so we’re drawn to what “proves” the worth of what we’re doing – the test scores, the scholarships, the numbers game.
I recently had cause to pull out some old notes from students, (those all-too-rare and precious things you keep in the folder marked Sunshine and read when the darkness is really intimidating). Reading them over, I was struck by a refrain – it goes something like this: “You made it interesting” “I finally began to want to understand” “I used to hate English” and my all-time personal favorite, “You really wanted to know what we were thinking.” Looking back, yes, I did want to know – but that was a pretty suspect position. Why would we want to know what the students think? Don't we know what they ought to think?
So how do we overcome the fear, the layers of “good student” behavior that keep us lockstepping, leaving no children behind the numbers. We're born and/or borne, as Fitzgerald would have it, ceaselessly into the past – trying to create the schools we came from, perhaps consciously, perhaps not. Education rarely enters into schooling. Then, too, we often lack the intellectual stimulation necessary to successfully entertain new notions. Our own educations stagnate and stagger, victims of time, responsibilities and the numbers game. If our students are bored with our lessons as they so frequently claim, how much more so must we be if we've done the same thing for years on end?
There isn't a lesson plan on paper in this universe that can make that happen. All the precision planning and pursuit of test scores will not ever gain for us what we say we want as educators – to make a difference in the life of a child. Will a child remember that in your class you had beautiful lessons? Only if those lessons are true
In twenty years in this “business” of schooling, I've only gradually come to the full realization that all the while I was trying to perfect my lesson plans, trying to understand how I could to come to that nirvana of the full filing cabinet of pre-made, already prepared lessons, I was pursuing failure. I’d mistaken effectiveness for efficiency, denied the inherent messiness crucial to any creative endeavor. I think, sometimes, that the biggest trouble with schooling – the reason that real innovation usually eludes us, is the field's self-perpetuating nature. Those who did best under the industrial era model are now running the show. These are the “good” students – you know, the ones who don't ask questions, don't rock the boat with “unusual” notions. Pair that tendency to complacency with a healthy dose of fear/respect for “authority” and it's a pretty reliable recipe for keeping to the quantifiable. Even when we know (and we do, most of us) that this isn't working to the benefit of our students, we frequently lack the imagination or the guts (or in some cases, both) to make it different. And if we succeed in small ways, we rarely know it – so we’re drawn to what “proves” the worth of what we’re doing – the test scores, the scholarships, the numbers game.
I recently had cause to pull out some old notes from students, (those all-too-rare and precious things you keep in the folder marked Sunshine and read when the darkness is really intimidating). Reading them over, I was struck by a refrain – it goes something like this: “You made it interesting” “I finally began to want to understand” “I used to hate English” and my all-time personal favorite, “You really wanted to know what we were thinking.” Looking back, yes, I did want to know – but that was a pretty suspect position. Why would we want to know what the students think? Don't we know what they ought to think?
So how do we overcome the fear, the layers of “good student” behavior that keep us lockstepping, leaving no children behind the numbers. We're born and/or borne, as Fitzgerald would have it, ceaselessly into the past – trying to create the schools we came from, perhaps consciously, perhaps not. Education rarely enters into schooling. Then, too, we often lack the intellectual stimulation necessary to successfully entertain new notions. Our own educations stagnate and stagger, victims of time, responsibilities and the numbers game. If our students are bored with our lessons as they so frequently claim, how much more so must we be if we've done the same thing for years on end?
There isn't a lesson plan on paper in this universe that can make that happen. All the precision planning and pursuit of test scores will not ever gain for us what we say we want as educators – to make a difference in the life of a child. Will a child remember that in your class you had beautiful lessons? Only if those lessons are true
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