Category Archives: Networking

Collective Learning and a Caterpillar

Educators often talk about inquiry-based learning. We are always trying to inspire students to ask essential questions and find ways to answer their inquiries themselves, using innovative methods and new digital technologies. Find and build networks we tell them. Use the power of the new Web is our mantra.

Readers of this blog may have noted that I am at times overly critical of the very technologies I promote, but I want to reassure you that I am a strong proponent of inquiry based learning, and I believe that network learning is the right direction for anyone who is obsessed with investigation, and at the end of the day isn’t the search for truth the very fabric of education. Let me share a few intersecting stories about a little girl, her dad, and a moth caterpillar that may shed some light in this topic.

The story begins in Shanghai at a technology conference of all places. I was sitting in a session led by Alan Levine on photography and the power of Flickr. Alan was talking about the different things he does with Flickr in regards to tags, when he mentioned that you can post a photo of almost anything: a plant, animal, or insect and tag it is as unidentified or unknown and people will identify it for you. At the time the idea seemed quaint, and it immediately fell into the “pretty cool” category, but I didn’t give it much more thought.

Fast forward to a few days ago. I live in Doha, Qatar, and I recently planted a few trees on my roof top garden. My daughter and I were on the roof tending to our young tress when she noticed several caterpillars. She was fascinated with our hairy little friends.

I remember being enthralled with the whole process of metamorphosis as a child and wanted to introduce this transformation to my daughter. Sure she is only two-and-a-half, but such a magical event can be appreciated at any age. Right? We took one of the caterpillars, some leaves, a branch and put it all in a jar, hoping that we could watch the entire metamorphosis over a span of a few weeks.

The little guy is doing okay. He is eating the leaves, growing, and dropping a massive amount of poops, which are coming in handy for our other project- potty training. “See the caterpillar goes poo-poo too.”

What does any of this have to do with inquiry based learning and Alan Levine? Never a fan of jargon, I am a bit embarrassed to use the term life-long learner, but I did entere education because I have an insatiable curiosity. I wanted to know what kind of caterpillar I was dealing with, so maybe I could take care of it better and make sure it made it to butterflyhood. Let the search begin!

Let me walk you through how networked learning is helping me on my quest. My first step, and I am sure the first step of most K-12 students is that I Googled Qatari caterpillars, only to find a series of websites about the famous tractor company. I can just see the blank expressions on the faces of most 5th graders at this stage of their research, “but that is not what I want.”

What happens next? I had no clue as to where to start. How does one begin an investigation without a starting point? I wished I could just post a picture of it on the Internet and have someone tell me what it was. I remembered Alan’s session from Learning 2.008, which in and of itself is the first step of network learning. I didn’t remember exactly what to do, so I sent Alan a Tweet and within minutes he had sent me a response giving me instructions:

I ran upstairs took a photo of the caterpillar and added it to Flickr. I did some other research on my own, as any good academic should, and found there are also groups on Flickr that help you identify insects. I sent out a few Tweets hoping that with the combined power of my network and Flickr I would have some answers.

This is really a remarkable thing. We are now able to just post a picture of almost anythinf on the Internet and have someone tell us what it is! Think of the power that gives your students. Think of the way they must learn to interact with others in order to use this power most effectively. I think it is truly amazing.

Within twelve hours I had my first comment on Flickr. At this point in the story I would love to say that someone had correctly identified my caterpillar end of story, but that is not the case. I think often times our students are just looking for the “right” answers as well. Whether they find it on Google, Wikipedia, or someone tells them the “right” answer, the end, and an easy one at that is their objective. While I admit I was a little disappointed when I cut and pasted the answer the guy from Flickr gave me into google and the caterpillar that came up for: Prominents (Notodontidae) looked nothing like the bug in my jar, I realized that learning and research are like many things in life- processes not products.

Posting to Flickr and waiting for a response from a network of people was not the end result, but one step in the process of my learning. When I started I had no idea where to look to even find a starting point for identifying this caterpillar. I was looking at tractors for goodness sake! But with the tips from one person, I had a lead. I was on the hunt.

I cut and pasted words like Prominents, Notodontidae, and Clostera. I got closer and closer. At this point, I was pleasantly surprised to see that Alan was still supporting me with this Tweet:

Now his vast network of experts was on the hunt too. I posted my findings on the Flickr Page in hopes that they will help narrow down the search:

Realistically there are thousands if not hundreds of thousands of species of caterpillars. I may never find the exact match I am looking for, but that is not the point. The point is that I am not satisfied merely punching random terms into google expecting answers and giving up when I don’t find them.

I am interacting with people and hoping they will help me on my journey toward the answer. This process is powerful. This collective, communal learning is what learning looks like. My daughter is only two-and-a-half, and most of what I have said is way over her head, but already she is asking me to watch caterpillars on daddy’s computer. She knows that Youtube is a powerful tool to help visualize and make real so many concepts that are new to her. We watched a Monarch butterfly hatch from its cocoon, hopefully soon we will be able to post our caterpillar hatching on youtube as well in hopes of helping others on their journey. I hope to be able to add the name of the species.

If you have any information regarding this caterpillar please leave it here.

About two hours after writing this post, I received a Flickr Mail from Bob Barker, the guy who had made the first comment,leading me to this page. We will wait and see what the moth looks like, but it looks like we have a Gastropacha (Stenophylloides) populifolia in our jar.

Full Cup

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I am officially full. No more room for blog posts, news articles, or youtube videos. No more funny photos or heart breaking stories. No new bands, new sounds, new anything. I don’t want to contribute to the noise anymore. Not even sure why I am typing these words, perhaps to let out some of the clutter. I want to create some silence, some space.

Image from Jordandouglas

There is so much disorder in the walls of my head that it will take a much more diligent person than I , to clear some space to simply sit and breath. Is this the future we are preparing our students for, a world where we are nothing more than overflowing cups of knowledge and information? Are these the skills we so champion? We have access to more information than any other time in the history of the world, but so what? Once we are full, then we are full. The information then simply spills over the lip and disappears. Why aren’t we teaching our students how to breathe and make room for their souls? Why aren’t we teaching our kids how to disconnect and simply watch the clouds? Why aren’t we teaching our kids life beyond the screens? Why aren’t we teaching them to how to empty their cups?

I know what I need to do, but I find it harder and harder to do so. I understand that there needs to be a balance. But this sense of balance is becoming more and more difficult to find in the enthusiasm of Ed Tech cheerleading. Sometimes it just feels like all of this is too much. I often find myself needing to make time to reconnect with myself, before I can venture back into cyberspace. As an anti-social creature, I have a hard time putting on the happy face deemed necessary for social networking. How do we expect adolescents and children to make sense of so much networking?

I am starting to think that networking with strangers is not necessarily such an important skill to have. Surface level exchanges of information do not seem, to me, to be such a crucial talent. We need to be concentrating more on building communities, teaching our students as well as ourselves how to connect to other people on a more human level. But is this what we are doing? Is that possible on Twitter? Is that possible through this text?

We have all read at length about what it takes to be a networked learner, but what are the skills needed to be a good community member? How do we truly get to know people? I need something more than to be connected to nodes of a network; I am looking to instigate a cultural shift that connects people based on common goals and interests. I want nothing less than a new human paradigm. I want peace and connectivity, not another link to new tool. I am tired of talking about what the 21st century will look like, I want to talk to you, create art with you, and change the world with you. I am tired of reading about what you know, I want to know what you fear, what you dream. I want to become more human with you.

Technology is only useful if it connects our humanity and moves us forward as a community. Anything less is simply data overflowing from a full cup. Come join me, leave a comment, let’s chat on Skype about a topic other than Ed Tech, let’s create an art project together, and let’s build a community.

MicroBugger

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I just read a great blog post by Jason Chambers, an international educator I recently met at Learning 2.008 in Shanghai, in which he says

One of the problems with the modern ability to publish is that if you’re going to choose to publish a poetic journey through your each and every thought, then you may want to look at which channel/forum/genre you choose to do this with. I’d like to introduce a new word into the discussion of microblogging: “microbugging” – a proclivity to share every thought with one’s social network, as opposed to actively editing one’s thoughts in order to relay and collect useful communication.

I prefer to surround myself with positive, balanced individuals. I’m not interested in receiving a ‘stream of consciousness’ relay of someone else’s every thought, doubt, or question. It’s time for us to filter – both in terms of output, and in terms of input.

I am quite certain that I am one of the people he is referring to, if not the only one. His post has got me thinking about my use of Twitter, my involvement in social networks, and people’s expectations of me as a member of their networks.

I have always had a hard time differentiating between the personal and the professional. For me, the idea of a purely professional network is boring. There are only so many links to new tools and blog posts that I can handle. I have been slowly moving away from the Edtech network and trying to merge different ideas and people into my feeds and interactions.

I don’t feel I have much new to offer the Ed-Tech world, at least not right now. So does this mean that I shouldn’t participate? People have different ideas of what these networks could or should be. I am simply trying to carve out a small community of like-minded educators from the larger network of people. It is a long and tedious process, but like most human interactions, I feel that the more open and honest I am, the more fruitful the relationships will be.

For example, I have been sharing a lot of personal blog posts with my Twitter network. Why? I think these personal insights add to my online persona. While, I am starting to understand that this type of poetic journey through my each and every thought is not for everyone, I still think that it is important to

… present fragments of ourselves online, as if offering cyberspace a random set of pixels, will somehow paint a clear picture of who we are. We use blog posts, Tweets, Skype calls, profile pics, book lists, photos, podcasts, and music sharing sites to scatter pieces of ourselves into a giant void, hoping that maybe somebody out there is picking up the pieces, and what’s more we hope that once they have assembled some sort if idea of who we are, they will like the image enough to start building a community around it.

The reality is that we cannot befriend the entire world, nor should we be trying to. The only thing we can do both professionally and personally is put ourselves out there and try to make meaningful connections.

I am not criticizing Jason, and while at first I was a bit bummed out that he cut me off, because it appears we have a lot in common, I can now see that he is absolutely right. How we filter our networks is a choice that each person makes on his/her own terms, after all we create these networks to function for our individual needs. His post has definitely got me thinking. Maybe I am misinterpreting how to use these tools. Maybe it is time for me to filter – both in terms of output, and in terms of input. What do you think?

Like most people, I am still in the process of learning how best use these tools for my own learning. I want to thank Jason for making me reflect on my use of Twitter. Curious to know what you think. Becuse even as I spill my ‘stream of consciousness’ relay of every thought, doubt, or question, people keep following. That has to mean something right?

Identity, Avatars, and Future of Humanity

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Frozen in fear every time we appear
Im not surprised and really, why should I be?
See nothing wrong
See nothing wrong
So sick and tired of all these pictures of me
Completely wrong
Totally wrong
Go walking by
Here come another guy…

Elliot Smith

I was sitting in a closing session at Learning 2.008 with Ewan McIntosh and a group of teachers, and the conversation became very free and loose. The session was designed to be an open gathering, a place to discuss any lingering ideas and end the conference. People were throwing out ideas, while others either let them drop or set them up for a volley. I don’t remember everything we discussed: something about being able to download your brain some time in the future, buying domain names for your children to be sure you are in control of their web presence, and Facebook profile pictures.

Ewan joked about how he couldn’t understand why people would change their Facebook profile picture every other day. The room chuckled a bit as he made the comment, but I smiled uncomfortably. I have changed my profile picture 31 times in the last year.

At the time, I didn’t have the energy to explain why I felt the need to constantly update what I look like, but recently I have been thinking a lot about the idea of profile pictures, avatars, self-expression, and the online social networking community. I think I may have a response.

These ideas began to germinate in earnest last week after two separate incidents. The first was after a talk I had with Bud Hunt regarding the difference between a network and a community, and the second was after I started to look at avatar creation sites for my students. I am the computer club teacher, and I will soon start the Web 2.0 network journey with a group of ten 4th-6th graders.

What do the pictures of ourselves that we present to the world mean? How can a simple profile picture affect a person’s place within a community of strangers?

You may be thinking that a topic likes this is at best superficial and at worst a study of narcissism and vanity, but I ask that you bear with me.

The wikipedia article on Self says:

The self is a key construct in several schools of psychology, broadly referring to the cognitive representation of one’s identity. The earliest formulation of the self in modern psychology stems from the distinction between the self as I, the subjective knower, and the self as Me, the object that is known. Current views of the self in psychology diverge greatly from this early conception, positioning the self as playing an integral part in human motivation, cognition, affect, and social identity.

The article about Self-Portrait goes on to say:

The self-portraits of many Contemporary artists and Modernists often are characterized by a strong sense of narrative, often but not strictly limited to vignettes from the artists life-story. Sometimes the narrative resembles fantasy, roleplaying and fiction.
The self-portrait can be a very effective form of advertising for an artist, especially of course for a portrait painter.

The self-portraits of many Contemporary artists and Modernists often are characterized by a strong sense of narrative, often but not strictly limited to vignettes from the artists life-story. Sometimes the narrative resembles fantasy, role playing and fiction.

Finally Jay B. McDaniel says:

When one attains enlightenment in Zen Buddhism, at least two things are realized. First, one realizes that the deepest level of one’s life — what in Zen is called the “true self” — is always here-and-now. And second, one understands that this true self, even though here-and-now, is always changing.

What does this all mean to me, and what does it have to do with my network avatars and profile pictures? This is what I took away from the quotes above: The self is a key construct of one’s identity. Self-portraits are characterized by a strong sense of narrative. Sometimes the narrative resembles fantasy, role-playing and fiction. True self, even though here-and-now, is always changing.

In other words: Our sense of identity is derived from the story we tell the world and this story is constantly changing.

In an online world, the images we present of ourselves can be the most powerful representations we offer. I see myself as more than a static promotional portrait. I am a being in a constant state of flux, and I feel it is crucial that these transformations be presented to my equally malleable network. After talking with Bud, I realized that our social networks can never really know exactly who we are, and let’s be honest even our closest friends can only guess. How can we build community, if each individual member does not really know who any other member is?

We present fragments of ourselves online, as if offering cyberspace a random set of pixels, will somehow paint a clear picture of who we are. We use blog posts, Tweets, Skype calls, profile pics, book lists, photos, podcasts, and music sharing sites to scatter pieces of ourselves into a giant void, hoping that maybe somebody out there is picking up the pieces, and what’s more we hope that once they have assembled some sort if idea of who we are, they will like the image enough to start building a community around it.

An online community is nothing more than a group of people sharing the same puzzle of online debris. I guess my philosophy is that the more open, honest, and raw I can be, the clearer picture I can paint, thus creating the most authentic community for myself. As my resignation from my job proves, this openness is not always the best route to take, but it is the only one I know. I believe in web 2.0. I believe open honest communication is one of the best tools we have to building a better world. All of this talk about technology and collaboration means more to me than mere talking points. I need this. Humanities needs this. Our hope in the future lies in teaching young people to learn to express themselves as honesty and openly as they can, so we can begin to tear down the walls that have been constructed by generations of cultural, nationalistic, and religious engineers.

I am still evading why any of this is relevant to profile pictures and avatars. The portrait is one of the most powerful ways to share ones identity. The tiny picture next to each Tweet is the first impression many newcomers to any network will see. I get excited when I see people change their photos, because I feel that they are real, changing, and growing.

I am not the same person one day from the next, so how can my picture stay the same month after month. I felt a bit uncomfortable after I changed my picture to a computer-generated avatar. It felt as if I was cheating somehow. But after a few days, I am starting to feel more comfortable with the image, because I know that it too will change. This is simply a stage of who I am at this stage of my life. I love looking back and seeing all of the people I have been:

If I am a collage educated father and teacher, and I am still dealing with these kinds of identity issues, imagine what our students are going through. In an image-saturated world, they need to be having conversations about self, identity, and community, especially if we want them to be participating in a world where they may not meet every person they interact with online. We need to teach them how to sort through the debris and construct the puzzles of the people they encounter online. More importantly we need to teach them how to express themselves as clearly as they can, so they are able to paint the most authentic picture of who they are. An avatar or profile picture should mean more to us than some throw away superficial exercise in vanity. These pictures are who we are online, so they deserve thought and attention.

Learning 2.008

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I am sitting in an unconference session called “Echo Chamber.” To my right Brian Crosby scratches his hair as Clarence Fischer, who sits to my left, proposes that an echo chamber may sometimes be a good thing, a source of rejuvenation. I can’t seem to articulate what I find disconcerting about the echo chamber. David Warlick occasionally peaks out from behind his laptop and offers some insight. I am a bit star-struck, sitting in this room with just the four of us; a few teachers from ISB stroll in and make me feel more knowledgeable. I want to say that communities need to be occasionally shaken up and infiltrated to keep them up to date. I am stuck in limbo between feeling respect and admiration for these men and then contemplating the fact that if I know that I am just as good of a teacher as any of them, then why do I feel inadequate in their presence. This back and forth plays with my emotions, rendering me unable to get my point across.

Don’t get me wrong; I immensely respect these men along with all of the presenters at Learning 2.008. An hour before I was listening to Ewan McIntosh talk about how tech tools are not transformative. Pedagogy is transformative. I have skimmed Ewan’s blog for months, but not until I saw him speak did I truly understand where he is coming from. Later, I would listen to Alan Levine discuss the Horizon project, and later still take notes on a back channel as Julie Lindsay extolled the virtue of mobile devices.

If Learning 2.008 taught me anything it is that digital networks are nothing more than real human beings trying to figure it all out. I am not sure I can define what “it” is exactly, but that is part of what we are trying to do. We can read each others blogs, talk on Skype, or follow Tweets, but these tools will only paint an abstract picture of who we really are. No matter how easy the new web makes it for people to communicate and build networks, we still need that authentic human interaction. We still need to watch body language, pay attention to tone of voice, and make people laugh to really connect with other human beings. Thank goodness for that.

It was refreshing to see that we are more than blog posts, avatars, and @names. The participants of this conference, by their presence alone proved that we are a group of diverse educators determined to find better ways to learn. No one truly knows the secret answer, because there is no secret answer. We, and I say we with pride because I learned that I too have ideas to offer, are simply trying to find ways to educate children as best we can. Technology is not the answer. It really doesn’t have much to do with technology at all. It has to do with community and the sharing of knowledge and ideas! Technology is simply a way for sharing ideas. The questions that kept resurfacing at every session I attended was- how can we convince teachers to use technology? I think we need to help teachers learn how they can become members of vibrant communities, so that they can teach their students to expand their social networks as well. This can be completely outside the scope of technology. Jennifer Jones says it best,

“Before we connect globally, we need to connect locally, whether we use technology, or just step outside. I feel this is critical to change in our systems.”

Technology is just a tool that at this time in our evolution is the most appropriate for creating wide, far-reaching, cooperative communities that foster, promote, and encourage learning. This conference taught me that communities take time to build and that they must be unique for each member. Session after session, time spent out at dinner with twitter friends, and time spent chatting over food with fellow tech enthusiasts, taught me that my network is like a garden, in that it constantly needs to be tended.

When I first started blogging I wanted nothing more than a robust interactive audience. I wanted the largest number of people to read by posts. Like my students, I wanted to watch the little red globs infect my cluster map like a cancer. I constantly examined by statistics to see how many people had read what I wrote. I wished that the “big” names would read my work, realize my genius, and catapult me into the upper echelon of the educational blogosphere. In short, I felt that the quantity of readers would directly reflect the quality of my network. To return to the garden analogy, I wanted to transplant myself into a pre-made heirloom garden of specialized thriving plants. I was reading the names I had been told to read. I was following the people I was told to follow on Twitter. I had been sold a perfect network, and I thought that all I had to do was sit back and let the learning community sweep me away.

The conference taught me that, I can read well-known bloggers, I can even sit with them in a room and discuss the echo-chamber, but to truly feel the power of the network I have to plant my own garden and tend it religiously. It is not enough to simply use twitter to get to know someone, you need to meet them, and laugh over Chinese food, take a walk in Golden Gate park, share a cab. This conference proved that I don’t need to be connected to the network, or a network, but that it is more important that I build my own functioning network of like-minded teachers and students.

“Audiences drive by while communities drop in.”

As Clarence’s quote elucidates, I learned that it is not enough to simply copy and paste the nodes of a generic network and expect it to be fruitful. We must build communities. This takes time. This takes honesty and passion. This takes effort and patience. This takes dedication and hard work.

“You write where people care! Small passionate communities matter.”

I am sure hundreds of blog posts have already been written about what Learning 2.008 meant to the various participants. What do I have to say that is any different? What do I have to say that is relevant or meaningful in anyway? These are questions I often find myself asking myself as I blog. The longer I swim around educational blogs, the more I realize that I am not as intelligent as I like to think. People articulate their thoughts more effectively than me; people write better than me, people comment more insightfully than me. In short, I often feel that the network would be fine without my little musings in this tiny corner of the Internet, which I have etched out for myself.

So why do I bother? I may not have the credentials or the talent, but after talking with teachers from around the world at this conference, I realized that I do have some things to say that others want to hear. This is the beauty of the network. Day in and day out I am threading my own narrative and trying to somehow tie it to others. I am carefully and deliberately tending my garden. Leaving Tweets about music and politics, never afraid to stand behind my ideas, using a raw and honest voice with an infectious enthusiasm, posting videos to youtube and photos to Flickr, I will keep sowing my seeds in my corner of the Web. Sometimes in a whisper, sometimes through a roar, I will wait patiently hoping that my tribe will find their way to my doorstep and together we will move forward.