Category Archives: Infrastructure

#ISTE11: On Longitudinal Web Presences for Writing, Learning, Being

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I had the opportunity to hear Paul Allison, one of my favorite teachers, talk at length about his work with Youth Voices yesterday. Usually, Paul’s asking about others’ work, or showcasing the work he’s doing – but not talking about the thinking behind the work. And I like it when he does so. I hope he’d do that more.

He said that the pedagogical and philosophical1 recipe for Youth Voices was something like:

  • James Beane and his work on breaking down the curriculum barriers and asking good questions
  • plus Paulo Friere’s thinking on asking learners to look for generative themes
  • with a dash of Peter Elbow who reminds us of the power of making things through free writing.

I need to return to all three of those folks and dig back in to some of their thinking.

But he said something, off the cuff, that I thought was really important. He mentioned that he’d been in the Youth Voices work for eight years2, and that students who started in tenth grade were able, in eleventh and twelfth, to return to the space and pick up where they left off. They didn’t have to learn a new space, and their work from previous years was right there.

That’s powerful and important and worth unpacking a little bit. Teachers who are using interesting technology with their students find themselves too often in the setup and infrastructure business – and that’s fine sometimes. But not every time or every lesson or every year.

One of the reasons I went to work for an IT department was because I wanted to help make spaces that had a life beyond one classroom. A student shouldn’t create one blog to suit the needs of every teacher that asks for work to occur in such spaces. Students create short term tools for what should be long term work, and they find themselves create blogs every time they start to do interesting work. The assumption becomes that the work they’re doing in these temporary spaces is throwaway work. When the unit, semester, or year ends, the space dies and the student is asked to create the next one.

That’s not how it should work.

What I love about Paul’s work, and the work of other folks who are thinking about the long game of educational spaces where work lives and breathes and mingles with other work, is that they’re building what I call3 longitudinal Web presences. Spaces where the portfolio happens as the collection grows. Places where the stuff a student made yesterday and the stuff a student makes today will be around for a student to add to tomorrow. Places that don’t die every few months or are subject to Teacher A or B’s personal web tool preference.

When Karl or Michelle or I talk about digital learning ecologies, or Paul talks about Youth Voices, I think that’s what we’re talking about. Teachers shouldn’t have to be in the creation and infrastructure business all the time. Nor should they be helping kids to cram important work into temporary places.

If you’re a tech director or a CIO, I hope you’re thinking about how to create these spaces. I also hope you’re thinking about how to help students return to them over time and to think through what they’ve made and how it resonates, or doesn’t, as they expand their knowledge and experience. In St. Vrain, we’ve built a few tools that help with this, but we’re nowhere close to figuring it out.

We do, know, though, and have been charged by our school board, that we are stewards of the work our students produce. That’s an important word – the IT department is responsible for looking after the students’ work. We’ve got to make sure it’s well taken care of and preserved and saved until they leave our care. And that they can take it with them when they go.

That’s what a portfolio should be. That’s worth making. Thoughtfully.4 I continue to be inspired and pushed by the work of folks like Paul who are building places of learning that last on the Web.

  1. My words, not his [↩]
  2. Eight years. How many writing spaces do you have that last six months. Learning, folks, is a marathon. [↩]
  3. Probably incorrectly, but playing with words is fun. [↩]
  4. Sometimes, the curbs matter and the making of the containers are essential, in no small part because the traffic on the road and the stuff in the boxes is precious and worth looking after. The road needs to last for a long, long time. [↩]
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#ISTE11: NWP’s Inaugural Hack Jam

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Yesterday afternoon, I had the opportunity to attend the first ever National Writing Project Hack Jam, an exploration of the opportunities to fiddle with text and writing and code on the Internet.  It was a useful event for me, as we were able to think and play with ideas about what “hacking” means right now, and how it’s about reading and writing and thinking.

Masterfully facilitated by Chad Sansing and Meenoo Rami, the event took us to some interesting places and conversation.  Here’s my recap.

We started the day in table groups with a box of Monopoly and a simple task – hack the game.  Chad and Meenoo explained that our task was to fiddle with the rules until we found a game that was better than the one we were handed – and so Sandy and Gail and I tinkered our way through a version of Monopoly that was all about freebies.  Other groups fiddled to make the game about tossing pieces and giving to charity.  It was good1.

But the point of the hacking was to give us an opportunity to explore that games and systems have rules – rules that were made by people.  And we can mess with those rules if we understand the underlying principles involved.  That’s powerful learning – and applies not just to board games, but to school, and to work, and to civic engagement and to computer systems or the Internet.

Hacking matters.  Douglas Rushkoff would say that we need to Program or Be Programmed, but I’d fiddle with that statement and say instead that we need to hack or be hacked.  Someone made the rules and systems of the Internet, power structures, as John Spencer called them during out conversation yesterday.  And, as others have said before, we’ve got to help our students fiddle with them, understand them, and, hopefully, change them.

We moved from that work into a visual exploration of our definition of hacker – folks focused on several things, but I was reminded of MacGyver, and thought of duct tape and wrenches and making things out of what we’ve available.  Purposeful play.

This led to some interesting conversation that I think was my key takeaway from the day2.  Paul Allison, who is always thoughtful, wrote this during the workshop:

My first thought is that hacking sounds like an important idea, but really? Do we need another word that takes teachers out of the mainstream “common core” standards conversation? Does hacking get my students more college-ready? Like gaming, isn’t hacking just another thing that pushes the risk-takers into the margins, and makes risk-adverse teachers run? How do we find a way to be more inclusive in our language and processes? Is it just a language thing? What else might we call hacking?

Later on, Paul continues3:

So part of why we hack has to do with understanding our sources more deeply, and this is absolutely an academic concern. But don’t we need words like “analytical reading” and carefully sourced research? Right so what else might we call hacking? It’s about creativity, but it’s also about making new things by really understanding the old, and this is a traditional, academic exercise.

I’m looking for language that will encourage the risk-adverse teacher to join with us in these enterprises.

And that’s what I leave thinking about.  Hacking matters.  Academic reading and writing matter.  And they’re not unrelated things.  Groups like the National Writing Project know an awful lots about good reading and writing practice, and are exploring thoughtfully things like gaming and hacking – but can they do so in a way that doesn’t scare off the “risk-adverse teacher,” as Paul asks?

I think we need the National Writing Project and folks like them to help navigate these spaces, and to explore them thoughtfully with teachers – and to help folks recognize that reading and writing and thinking and gaming and hacking are related – but in a way that doesn’t lead to further fragmentation and paradox.  I think we need teachers to play, like we played in the Hack Jam, with the rules and ideas that affect them.

Yes, let’s teach kids to hack.  Both the Internet and Shakespeare.  Minecraft and Fitzgerald.  Wordle and essay.  Picture and paragraph.  Logarithm and link. Tweets and Tennyson.  Second Life and the State Legislature.  It’s a big world.

Worth doing.  If you get the chance to attend a future NWP Hack Jam – you should go. I’ll see you there.

  1. Because it was a National Writing Project event, there were snacks.  Good ones. [↩]
  2. And I know I’ve buried the lead, but that’s okay. [↩]
  3. Read the whole piece.  It’s good and I can’t stop thinking about it. [↩]
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A #blog4nwp in Which I Ask for Your Assistance. Urgently.

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Dear Friends1:

I’m doing something that I don’t normally do – writing a letter. If you know me at all, then you know that I carry a very special appreciation for the work of the National Writing Project.  I talk pretty much whenever and where I can about the work of the NWP and what it’s meant to me as a teacher, as a writer, and as a person.

In short, it’s by far the best professional development experience/community/network I’ve ever been involved in.

And, fortunately, it has survived, grown and flourished these last twenty years with support from the federal government – originally, the National Endowment for the Humanities and then the Department of Education2.  Sometimes, the good guys win.

On March 8th, unfortunately, that federal support ended, at least for the moment, when President Obama signed a continuing resolution that eliminated NWP as well as several other groups’ educational budgets.  As of October 1st, 2011, there will be no federally funded National Writing Project.  In preparation for that, the NWP laid off 60 percent of its staff last week and announced to local site directors that they will have to reduce their local funding by 25 percent.

And that breaks my heart.

And I need your help to fix this mess.

You are movers and shakers in your respective worlds.  People listen to you and seek your counsel.  On many occasions, I’ve sought you out for assistance and/or advice.  I need your help to help restore funding to the National Writing Project through whatever reasonable, rational and responsible means necessary.

That’s, well, pretty much all I’ve got.  I suspect that the usual avenues for these sorts of situations are to do two things:

1.  Get the word out about the power of the NWP
2.  Ask people with access to money if the NWP could have some.

You may not know much about the project, so I thought I’d tell you a little bit more before I ask you to do at least one of those two things.

Basically, the National Writing Project is a professional development organization.  In the same way that antibiotics were helpful to modern medicine.  They’re powerful.  They work with universities and schools to build spaces where teacher expertise is shared and valued.  Specifically, they work to promote the ideas that:

1.  The best teachers of writing are writers themselves.
2.  The best teachers of teachers are teachers themselves.
3.  The best way to make a difference in classrooms is to invest in thoughtful reflective inquiry and practice among teachers and their students.  Cross pollinate like crazy, and let teachers be teachers.

They’d say it a little bit differently, but I’m thinking that, if you know me at all, as a teacher, as a learner, as a colleague or as a writer, then you know the National Writing Project.  I am the professional that I am in no small measure due to my exposure to the NWP, our local affiliate the Colorado State University Writing Project, the influence of the NWP on my teachers and professors, and my interactions with NWP colleagues and friends around the country.

The National Writing Project believes in teachers and their agency at a time when almost no one else does.  They believe that students, teachers and administrators should write regularly – to include composition in all kinds of media, from papercraft to circuitboard to movie to audio to video game to good ol’ fashioned paper.

The power of writing and the power of teachers are two things that we need plenty of in this country right now.

So here’s the part where I ask for your help and thank you for sticking around in this letter for as long as you have.  If you remember that list a little while back, I need your help to either make noise or find money.  So I was hoping that you might be inclined to take some sort of action.  I’ll break down a few easy ways you can help:

Advocacy:

  • Write your Congressperson and tell them of the importance of the National Writing Project. NCTE has an easy to use form.
  • Call your Congresspeople to follow up.  Repeatedly.  It’s okay.  They work for us.  Be polite.
  • Write publicly about your exposure to and experience with the work of the NWP or your desire to fund work like the NWP’s.
  • Help NWP teachers find venues to share their expertise and remind them to mention the NWP as they do so.  Offer them conference and unconference sessions where they can write with your organization.
  • Write a #blog4nwp.
  • Borrow these easy tweets.  Post them.  Often.

Fundraising:

  • Make a donation to the NWP
  • Write your Congressperson, etc.
  • Investigate hiring your local Writing Project to do some inservice in your area.  They work for reasonable rates and you’ll get a high quality, teacher-led and centered experience.
  • Ask the people you know that work for foundations and corporations if they’re aware of the awesomeness of the National Writing Project.  Introduce them.  Politely ask for support.
  • You know that uncle or cousin or whatever that you’ve not spoken to in forever who went to work for that person that is in charge of whatever it was?  Drop them a note and let them know about the NWP.

I hope that you’re able to take one or more of these actions to help ensure that the National Writing Project remains a viable force for teaching, learning and writing into the 22nd Century.  And hopefully longer.  Writing doesn’t go out of style – it just keeps changing.

Writing matters.  And the National Writing Project does, too.

All the best to you.

Bud

  1. I’m emailing this to pretty much everyone I’ve ever known. I’m posting it here and everywhere else I can because I don’t yet have everyone’s email address.  It’s a big world.  Feel free to share this with whomever you’d like.  I’d consider it a favor if you would. [↩]
  2. You can read more about the history of the NWP in James Gray’s memoir about its founding, Teachers at the Center.  I’m reading it right now – and it’s quite useful. [↩]
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The Podcast: Infrastructure Matters

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Today’s podcast is an excerpt of Troy and Sara and my Reports from Cyberspace conversation at NCTE’s 2010 Annual Convention. Specifically, this is my prepared section of the presentation, which I’ve called “Infrastructure Matters.”

Infrastructure does matter, and it’s never been more important to make sure that the conditions for learning exist in every element of an education organization. I hope that my remarks get to the heart of how I try to model that in my work supporting teaching and learning here in Colorado.
As always, would love to hear your thoughts about the content of the presentation. I’m sure there’s something that I’ve missed. Let me know in the comments.

On a related note, I just want to express my continued appreciation for Sara and Troy as colleagues and thinking partners. I look forward to continuing to learn from and with them. They’re smart people, and I hope they’re on your radar.1

The thrust of our invitation for others’ reports from cyberspace was that conferences shouldn’t be endpoints, but waypoints, times to recharge and retool before heading out into the work again.  I hope that our session was useful to folks. I’ll know that it was as I see work emerge from it. Talk’s fine. It’s useful. But it’s not enough.

Hard work matters, too.

Direct Link to the Video Version
Direct Link to the Audio Version

  1. I have sections of their presentations recorded, too, but wanted to talk to them before I published them. Look for them here soon if they consent. [↩]
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Leadership Bootcamp – You Come, Too.

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One of the projects that I’ve been working on this year, but I’m sure I haven’t spoken about in this space, is the TIE/ISTE Leadership Bootcamp, a conversation about how communication practices can affect change and serve to support leadership in schools.

It’s an interesting event and a pretty good conversation, and still pretty new.  Perhaps you’d like to join us there, as we’re talking about ideas that have come and gone through this blog over the last few years.  Joining the community is free, and you’re more than welcome to come on in.  In fact, I’m hoping that you will, because I suspect you have something to offer that conversation.

I was fortunate to be asked to give the opening preconference virtual session back near the beginning of the month.  You might want to watch that to get a sense of the Bootcamp.  Larry Anderson will be giving the next one on April 14th, and there are a couple of other great preconference speakers lined up, too.

See you there?

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An Open Letter to my Elected Congressfolk: Please Support the NWP

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I sent slightly different versions of this letter to my legislators this afternoon. (I didn’t ask my senators to sign on to a House letter, for example. Nothing substantive.) If you support the National Writing Project, I hope you have done, or will do, the same. I would have written sooner – but this all happened as I was getting acquainted with Quinn. This is one of the first times I’ve been able to put fingers to keys in order to compose more than a few tweets. (Again – the iPhone is NOT the right long form writing device.)

Speaking of tweets, I should talk a bit about my latest gentle request for information from @EDPressSec, the official Twitter account for the U.S. Department of Education’s Press Office. It’s now been more than a week since I started asking why the ED had decided to eliminate the National Writing Project’s funding. I still don’t have an answer. As Zac has accurately pointed out, the press office stated in their 2011 press release on the appropriations proposal that programs removed were done so either because they “duplicate local or state programs or have not had a significant measurable impact.”

I don’t get it, and I have requested that @EDPressSec provide me with the data that they used to make the determination that a national network could be duplicated at the local or state level, or that the NWP has had no “significant measurable impact.” I’m hopeful that they’ll provide me with that information. Soon. But, if not, I’m asking my legislators to help me get that data. Seems like the right question to be asking. Thanks to those of you who are asking it along with me. The question should be easy enough to answer, and my fingers are crossed that this is certainly some big misunderstanding.

(If you’d like to see the entire conversation between myself and @EDPressSec, I’ve created a Twitter account and favorited the exchange. Start at the bottom and read up. I’ll keep updating as the conversation continues. I hope it’ll be productive. I really do respect that the press office is on Twitter, and I hope they work to create more opportunities for teachers and policymakers to actively be in meaningful conversation.)
________________
Dear Rep. Markey, Sen. Bennet, and Sen. Udall:

I have grave concerns regarding the proposed elimination of the National Writing Project’s federal funding from the current Education Appropriation Bill. I cannot tell you of a program that I believe is more essential to good teaching, learning and thinking in our schools today.

In light of that opening, I am writing today to seek your assistance with two items:

  1. I would like for you to show your support for the National Writing Project by signing on to Rep. George Miller’s Dear Colleague letter of support for 2011 funding for the NWP.
  2. I have asked the press office, via Twitter, of the Education Department for information regarding why they removed funding for the National Writing Project from their appropriations request. I need your assistance in obtaining that information, as they don’t seem able to provide it to me. I was hoping your office might help me navigate the issue.

I work as an instructional technologist for the St. Vrain Valley School District. Prior to my transition to providing professional development to teachers in a district support role, I was a classroom language arts teacher for five years with the same school district. I am certain that I have experienced no better model of professional development than that of the National Writing Project. Since I first learned of and participated in a local project at Colorado State University, my students have benefited from my exposure to the NWP, as have the hundreds of thousands of teachers and millions of students similarly impacted by their programs.

Writing remains essential to student and societal success. The National Writing Project, through its network of local affiliates spread out across the country, makes a substantial difference for students everyday. We would be foolish not to support them.

(My colleague, Zac Chase of Philadelphia, PA, has written a brief letter explaining some of the data regarding NWP’s success. You can view that here.)

In Colorado, three NWP-affiliated local writing project sites work to promote the same ideals of teachers teaching teachers. Each of those programs would be in jeopardy if not for the support of the national network and their matching funds.

I do hope that you will consider signing on to the “Dear Colleague” letter.

I would be happy to speak further with you about the National Writing Project. I’d also love the opportunity to invite you and/or your staff to a NWP or CSUWP event in the near future. There’s always room for more writers. We’d love to see you.

I look forward to discussing navigating the Department of Education’s decision process soon.

Sincerely,

Bud Hunt
Instructional Technologist
St. Vrain Valley School District
Teacher Consultant
Colorado State University Writing Project

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Relations & Expectations

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Teagan has, since her birth, been known to all of us as the little sister. The baby sister. That changed the day that Quinn came. Teagan’s now wearing two hats in our family – little sister to Ani, and big sister to Quinn.1

How we identify her is in large part via her relationships to others. How she identifies herself is tied up in those relationships, too. Rightly or wrongly.

And I’ve seen Teagan change her behavior to match the role that she’s filling at any one moment, alternately trying on the big and little sister roles to see which fit any given situation. She’s fiddling with expectation and agency. It’s fascinating to watch, particularly as the role of big sister is a new one for her. But she’s picking it up quite nicely.

All of the above to say this – I know that the people around us will rise to the level of expectation we have for them, which is why we should always set high expectations.2

But I’m re-realizing this morning that our expectations and relationships and even our identities are wrapped up in our relationships with others.

And I’m thinking about how I can honor existing relationships while building better ones in the context of high expectations.

How do we, I wonder, work to build, support and sustain roles and relationships that help us all to aim high and be better?

That’s a heavy question for a Monday, but a good reminder for the week.

  1. There are several other hats or roles that she wears, but you get the idea. [↩]
  2. One reason Teagan is a great big sister is that we believed that she would be and we told her so. Had we said that she wouldn’t be able to handle it, she probably wouldn’t have. Funny how that works, and how we so often tell people that they’ll be unsuccessful before we even let them try. [↩]
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Would You Please Block?

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Ever since we opened up lots more of the Internet in our school district earlier this year, the district has received several requests from teachers and other staff to block resources that are distractions in the classroom.  I’ve written a stock response to those requests that I thought might be worth sharing.  It’s my hope that their requests and the conversations that come from this response lead to changes in classroom practice.

Here it is:

Thanks for your question.  When we implemented our new filter this school year, we looked at all the things we were currently blocking, what things were required to be blocked by law, and what we were blocking that we shouldn’t be.

What we’ve decided is that we will no longer use the web filter as a classroom management tool.  Blocking one distraction doesn’t solve the problem of students off task – it just encourages them to find another site to distract them.  Students off task is not a technology problem – it’s a behavior problem.  It is our intention that we help students to learn the appropriate on-task behaviors instead of assuming that we can use filters to manage student use.  Rather than blocking sites on an ad hoc basis, we will instead be working with folks to help them through computer and lab management issues in a way that promotes student responsibility.  We know that the best filters in a classroom or lab are the people in that lab – both the educational staff monitoring student computer use as well as the students themselves.

This opens up possibilities for students and staff using websites for instructional purposes that in the past were blocked due to broad category blocks.  It requires that staff and students manage their technology use rather than relying on a third party solution that can never do the job of replacing teachers monitoring students.

That said, we will still block sites that are discovered to violate CIPA requirements.  If you discover one, please do not hesitate to share it with us.  Also, if you discover a site that shouldn’t be blocked, please pass that along so that we can open it up.

I hope this makes sense.  I’d be happy to speak further with you if you have further comments or questions.

How do you talk to folks in your districts about your Internet (un)filtering?

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The Filter. For the Moment.

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This morning, Darren mentioned that he’s decided to block Facebook in his school district.  To his credit, he then asked:

Nonetheless, I’m as sure as you are that this is a debate far from over, and therefore maintain a stance of open inquiry into whether or not we’re doing the right thing.  So give it to me straight:

  • Would you leave Facebook open on your K-12 network?
  • If so, why?
  • And, what are you doing to train your teachers to effectively utilize it with their students?
  • Additionally, what can you do on Facebook that can’t be done elsewhere?

I think he’s asking important questions – but not the right ones for a filtering decision.  The world’s a big place.  Not everything in it has an educational purpose or goal.  Many things that don’t seem overtly “educational” actually are.  (And vice versa.) Yet – the world is the place that we working in schools are supposed to be helping students to succeed in.  So why do we keep turning off the parts of it that make us uncomfortable?  The questions of Internet filtering are often focused on the notion that we can control everything that happens to a student.  We cannot.   We must create safe environments for learning and teaching – but we should never hide behind empty promises of “safe,” promises we can never actually deliver on.

In our school district, as we made a switch from sharing ISP service with other districts to becoming our own ISP and investing in our own firewall and filtering solutions, we had to make a decision about what to filter and why.  As I’ve never been a fan of overfiltering, and I know that even the best filters make mistakes of both permissive and restrictive natures, I and some others suggested that perhaps it was time for us to rethink our filtering strategy.

Basically, we argued, let’s quit pretending that the Internet filter is something that it isn’t.  Namely, the Internet filter can and should never take the place of a responsible educator working with students to ensure they are working with the best possible resources to accomplish their educational work.  When a teacher isn’t around, we want to make sure that our students are able to move forward and not get mired down in the random world of distractions that the Internet can offer.  But we want students to be able to internalize the discipline that it takes to do that.  And our boss took that idea to our district leadership, and they agreed.  As of the start of the school year, we are blocking the categories we feel meet the requirements of law as well as a few additional categories relating to hacking and software downloads that our technical side of the house deemed risky to the network.  A very few categories (three, I believe, though I am working from memory as I write this), those dealing with particularly sensitive topics, are available only to staff and to students with staff override.  This is a big change and we’re all pretty excited about it.  Filters are like any other source of power and control – they begin to become solutions to problems that they weren’t created to solve – no matter how badly they fail to solve them.

We’re going to block very few things, beyond the legally required ones, that are distractions.  Distractions aren’t a technology problem.  They’re a people problem.  And creating artificial spaces that don’t actually help to promote the behaviors and attitudes that are important for success is maybe the biggest distraction of all.

We could argue the educational merits of Facebook.  (But it’s mostly a distraction.  Every now and then, it won’t be.  Let’s let students and staff get to it when they believe they need to and stop making it and a few other websites such big deals at school.)

We could argue the educational merits of MySpace.  (But same thing.)

We could take a random stab and try to guess what the NEXT BIG WEBSITE will be, the thing that students will want to do rather than do their school work.  (But we’ll probably guess wrong.  And the websites will almost never be the problem.  The problem is that students don’t want to do their schoolwork.  That’s a problem that deserves more attention than whether or not a profile might get updated or a playlist shared.  Heck – at least in the case of a playlist or profile, something is getting created.)

There are an awful lot of distractions on the Internet.  Every time we focus on them, we draw attention to them and away from the educational goals and objectives we’d like to, and should be, focusing on.  Let’s all stop doing that.

Our filters have prevented us from getting a great deal of work done.  Teachers spent lots of time under our old filter trying to route around it to share important information with students.  Students spent countless hours trying to route around the filter.  (And succeeding.)  I’d've rather they’d each have been able to do the thing they wanted to do and then go on with their days.

And now they can. Mostly.  It’s not a perfect solution.  There are still glitches and overblocks – but we are working to unblock things that come up blocked for a teacher as quickly as we are alerted to the errors.  As we see use of resources increase, we may have to do some traffic shaping – which might be a better alternative to blocking outright, or it might create an entirely new set of problems.  We’ll see.

Darren is right about one thing – this is a new idea, the idea that the Internet’s there and (mostly) available.  And there’s plenty of teaching and learning to do about how to avoid distractions, and how to make sure that we are expecting the best of our students and staff.  But let’s not get stuck in command and control positions of assumption that lead us to discredit the experiences and expertise of the adults in the classrooms with our students every day.  Let’s believe in them rather than worry for them.

People will rise to the expectations that are set for them, and in our district, I am proud to say that we are beginning to expect big things from staff and students regarding their Internet use.  There’s lots and lots of work ahead, but I feel very good about the fact that we have finally started framing the problems of Internet misuse as problems of behavior and not of technology.  I hope other school districts can do the same.  And I hope that my district can hold true to its vision.  I have high expectations for us, too.

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