This week finds me doing a little state to state hopscotch. I began the morning at home in Colorado, am writing now from Baltimore, and will return to Colorado in a couple of days and drive straight to our state’s big technology conference.
I’m in Baltimore to participate in a conversation facilitated by the National Writing Project as a way to gather information about how teachers are teaching with, and, I think (although I’m not sure — we haven’t begun yet), influenced by technology. I’m looking forward to the conversation, and I’m honored to have been invited. (If you want a little background on the event, here’s a link to a recent Teachers Teaching Teachers that will fill you in.)
As I’m here in the conference center with a little time to kill prior to the opening of the conference, I’ve had a chance to catch up on some of my reading. Found a very interesting conversation going on in the comments of David Warlick’s blog regarding the nature of information.
I won’t rehash the debate here — you should really read the threads, as some very, very smart folks are hiving some good conversation on the subject — but I did want to mention something. In one comment, Gary Stager mentions, and this is almost out of context and quite tangential of me to reference it here, but give me a second and I’ll make my case: #
What I am against is the simplistic notion that this technology leadsYeah. I’m against that, too. See, while I’ve been participating in and am learning lots from the whole "School 2.0" conversation(s), I find that so often, the presence of technology, to some people, means that the school of the future is here. But it ain’t. The technology by itself changes very little. Having a blog or a podcast or a really neat-o wiki doesn’t mean a thing in terms of school design, school reform, or doing business differently if the underlying philosophies of education don’t change. Sitting in rows and watching the teacher type on a blog via the projector isn’t a revolution in amazingly new pedagogy — it’s just a really, really expensive use of virtuo-chalk.
to “School 2.0″ and that it represents a revolution in learning. #
The change comes when we begin to realize the power of sharing the information, of making the walls more transparent. I think.
And I’ve been guilty of that expensive use of tech stuff sometimes, but my larger point is simply that, if all we’ve done at the end of the day with these new fangled tools that have amazing potential is turn them on and blast the old school stuff out into the new school world, well, then we haven’t really done all that much. Have we?
I know this isn’t all that original an argument — in fact, I think I’ve made it here before — but I felt the need to reemphasize the point for myself. Learning is recursive, right?
Information is not changing — the tools that we have to fiddle with it are. Drastically. So, too, then are the skills one needs to be able to work with the stuff.
But a bit is still a bit, an irreducibly lovable essential unit of info, and it always has been.
(I’ve been reading a little information theory lately, and it’s powerfully fascinating stuff. You might be interested in this book — it’s a good primer on the subject. Well, I think it is, but I don’t yet know any better.)
Well, with that reminder taken care of for myself, I’ll head off to the meeting. Hopefully, lots to discuss and learn about and share over the next few days. #
Dagnabit
I wish I could have joined you in Baltimore, but school is still in session for me (darn snow days) and I had to bow out of the event.
Any chance you could give me an overview when its over, Mr. Dad?
Kevin
Of course. I’m happy to fill you in.
I agree that we are putting old wine into new bottles. I think that our most serious problem is one that springs from our mind’s inherent capacity to relate old things to new things. We understand in relation to something we already know. What happens when something new comes along? Well…we get ‘virto-chalk” (man, that virtuo-chalk dust never comes out of my dark shirts.) Now the question becomes how do we harness this natural “comparing” capacity in such a way that instead of pouring the new wine into the old bottle we…drink it. I see this strategy among the early adopters–a willingness to get ‘drunk’ on the technology then the morning after, hungover as hell, we lose the thread we took up and adopt our default position. This heady new stuff demands vigilance. We have to pay attention in new ways to the implications of these tools and ask more of ourselves when we use them. Vague indeed, but that ability to adopt new ‘stances’ is what characterizes the application of new ideas in the old world.
Your post is a touchstone. Thanks for the opportunity to respond.
Well put, Bud. I agree, and I think that the key is that technology is used to open up new opportunities to engage students in genuine critical thinking. Rather than watching the teacher type, why not let the students start engaging in silent classroom discussions online. Give the quite kids a chance to shine. It’s just one small example, but I think that the key is to understand that technology isn’t going to change what good education really is–it’s going to change how education is done.
I’m fascinated by the discussion on the proper use of technology in teaching. The term ‘virtuo-chalk’ is a good reminder of the need to avoid wasting multi-visual aids on out-dated teaching methods.
I’m a quiet follower of your blog, but here you really made a statement that should be included in the euphoria of using web2.0 to teach with.
There is a lot going on the language learning department in terms of exchange of experiences and further development. If you look at some of the learning going on using blogs and podcasts, you will see that there IS a new way of looking at teaching and, more importantly, learning, and the role of the learner is being redefined.
I’m certainly very enthusiastic about the possibilities, but thankful for statements like yours, which cause me to reflect and review my arguments for using blogs, wikis, etc. for teaching/ learning purposes