Category Archives: Twitter

Immediate Surroundings

Funny Twitter Story: I am sitting in my windowless classroom, catching up on PLN work, lesson planning, and web-surfing when I see this:

Remembering that it was beautiful out only a few hours earlier, I run outside to find that he is right; a truly apocalyptic scene looms just outside my window. I grab my camera, snap a few shots, upload them to Twitpics and then add them to a RT, write this post, and upload photos to Flickr.

So what does it mean that I am now getting input on my immediate surroundings from my computer? Maybe I should have a classroom with windows!

Collective Learning and a Caterpillar

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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.

Live Poetry

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Earlier this evening, I was trying to get more out of my social networks by engaging in more artistic collaborative projects. I hatched the idea for the “live” poem. The idea is simple:

Send out a request on Twitter for participants.
Create a Google Document.
Find an image from Flickr (Make sure to pick one from the Creative Commons)
Wait.
Wait some more.
Start to write.
Leave your poem as a comment on the original page.

Ideas for next time:

Set a time limit
Take a screencast of the process so as to watch the “growth” of the poem
Look at something like Etherpad.

Here is the image and the poem:

Cerulean Tide

a wall of day
and a door to night
creaking hinges
keeping time
footsteps
shuffle
in and out

this is where we met,
the smell of brine and barnacles
moving the sea, slaves to the moon
and desire

warm smoke escaping from a door
in flux soon to close
forever, or so we thought

our eyes consumed, engaged, divorced
time peeling another layer
pushing us together
awash in the sound of
laughter and a distant snare drum

touch gave meaning
memories embrace
did we?
if we choose to believe, we did

this is not ours to keep
never was
but what is left?
closed door, new season
but still, the blue
and blue and stillness blur

choice led us here then
and again
choice parts us after we give
“I want to fall in love with a living poem,”
you said.

another couple in
another out

I laughed and kissed your serious brow
learned the tangles of your hair, left alone too long
waiting for someone to know you
your only desire
for someone to know you

this place will be different tomorrow
in the light
we will see the decay
if we choose

what is the scale for measuring moments?
I say pain
you look away and take a drag on your cigarette
can’t help but disappoint you

your eyes have moved on
I wonder if you will ever be happy
Or if you will discover there’s no such thing

will you come back?
the wall was green, yellow, eggplant
your letter will say.

will your memories lie?
it was blue
it was dark.
we’ll never really know.

The poem is average at best, but it is the process of creation we are concerned with here over product. More thoughts on collaborative art soon.

Later I received a Tweet from @jhawtin telling me about the sonnet she wrote. Here it is:

A wall of daylight met a door of night.
Creaking hinges kept time with our journey,
the drift of lazy footsteps, left and right,
wrapped in smoke and shadow, a comedy.

Awash in laughter, haze and amber pints,
eyes engaged then slipped across the hecklers.
We watched the distant snare drum catch the light.
Crowds moved on. In comfy chairs we rested.

We stayed here under summer’s scudding skies.
Photos captured tangle haired embraces,
the buoys and bikes and lobster pots you liked,
colours rich with time and salty laces.

A season ends, the colours change, and leave.
A smile still sees you here, our dark retreat.

Leave her comments on her blog, Cranky Mango.

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?