Yowls and All

The sound was as irritating as it was loud -- extreme on both accounts!

As my Keeshond, Shatzi, and I sat in an exam room, awaiting the vet, we became increasingly agitated by the ear-drum splitting sound of a kitten's harsh "Meeee-OWWW! Meeeee-OWWWWW! Meeeeeeee-OWWWWWWW!!!"

Shatzi began to pace, then whine, and then scratch at the door. I (an auditory learner who overloads at the sound of a tapping pen, let along an incessantly yowling cat) considered making a run for the car and coming back another (quieter!) day.

Fortunately the vet came in, we survived the exam (during which the kitten's demanding yowls only crescendoed) and fled for the check-out window.

And that's when I saw him. An impossibly tiny scrap of cat, in the clinic's "adopt me" cage, pathetically clawing at the bars, reaching out to anyone walking by. And screeching that nails-on-chalkboard yowl for all he was worth.

"He's the last of his litter," the cashier told me. "Everyone else got adopted, and now he's all alone."

Now I have smuggled home enough baby animals that Daniel should have evicted me years ago. But no matter how sad his story, I had no urge to rescue little Yowly Cat. I pitied him. And I couldn't leave him fast enough.

As we drove home with the radio off (I needed complete silence to "decompress"!) I thought about how glad I was that Annemarie's new kitten, Rafiki, had always been such a quiet little guy. When she'd selected him from the 11 kittens available, he was the most docile. When she'd held him up, he'd curled up in her hand and gently licked her fingers. We're not quite sure if she picked him, or he picked her!

Once home, the only sound he made was a delightful purr. When he'd tuck himself into a hiding place to sleep, the only way to find him was to call "Rafiki" and wait to hear the purr. Even as an 8-week-old, his purr of contentment rumbled the floorboards. Now, as a full-grown cat, Rafiki loves to settle down on someone's chest, place a paw on either side of their face, and start the purr until the windows rattle.

Because of the purr, Rafiki is so easy to love. He sounds happy all the time. It's so natural to interpret his rumbles as cat language for, "I love you! You're wonderful! I'm so glad to be part of this family! Life doesn't get any better than this!!"

I thought back on Yowly Cat at the vet. What would become of him? Who would naturally be drawn to a cat with a predisposition for making such an awful racket? For a moment, I thought about turning around and bringing him home; after all, somebody should love him!

But what if that habit couldn't be broken? What if he was going to make the noise for the rest of his life? I had to be honest: I couldn't deal with it. Aside from the assault to my ears, which would be bad enough, I knew I couldn't love an animal that seemed to be saying, "I'm miserable! You need to do something for me! This isn't good enough! I demand more!"

It wasn't Yowly Cat's fault -- he couldn't help his cacophonic instincts any more than Rafiki could be praised for having invented the purr. They just happened to be two very different kittens. One I knew I could never love; the other I find so easy to adore.

"Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another." John 13:34b-35.

This tale of two kittens has gotten me thinking about people. Who, in my life, is like Yowly Cat? Offensive. Incessant. Unchanging. Makes me want to turn tail and run in the opposite direction.

Yet whose fault is it? Do the clueless people in my life deserve to be left unloved just because the way they express themselves causes me discomfort? Is it okay for me, as a Christian, to only bond to people who make me feel like Rafiki: clearly loved, adored, well within my comfort and convenience zones?

Or does "love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another" mean that I need to treat Yowly people as if they're Rafiki people?

(And -- perish the thought! -- is it possible that I'm a "Yowly person" myself? That I'm clueless about how badly I rub some people the totally wrong way?)

Jesus says that it'll be clear that I'm His disciple when I love others as He loved me.

Yowls and all.

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Touch & Go vs. Hide & Seek

"We are ruthlessly eliminating hurry from our lives!"

Annemarie and I use this mantra as a semi-serious, semi-sarcastic reminder when one (or both!) of us goes into serious overdrive.

I'll be striding through the house, frustrated that I'm running late, and she'll gleefully chirp, "Remember, Mom, we are ruthlessly . . . "

SIGH. S-l-o-w d-o-w-n.

The spiritual discipline of an "unhurried life" does not come naturally to me. I'm a Type A. A Choleric. A human do-ing.

As a result, my devotional life can best be described as touch and go. Read a verse and run.

How ironic, even oxymoronic, is that? Devotion means "profound devotion and attachment" which requires time. Tarrying. Lingering. Dwelling.

This morning, as I sat with Psalm 27, listening for God's Word to me, two things jumped out at me.

From verse 5a, "For in the day of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling; he will hide me in the shelter of his tabernacle..."

If a king as powerful as David recognized his need to hide, why do I stubbornly persist in trying to "go it alone"?

And from verse 8, "My heart says of you, 'Seek his face!' Your face, Lord, I will seek."

I love the emotion, here! David doesn't say, "The logical choice is to..." No way! This isn't his head talking. He's seeking his heart's desire.

David's willingness to "hide and seek" contrasts sharply with my misplaced time and energy. All too often, I touch my Bible for a few miserly minutes, and then go do the Type A dash, frittering away my time (and energy!) on task after task.

Through the Psalms, I am learning to s-l-o-w d-o-w-n.

To hide in -- and invest time dwelling on -- God's Word.

And to seek my heart's desire (which I will not find by dashing from task to task!) in the One who invites me to dwell with Him. To hide. And seek.

Word cloud made with WordItOut

Real vs Virtual Experiences

In my first blog for this course, I recalled some scenes from almost two decades ago: Two anxious parents shopping for Reader Rabbit and a precocious toddler blowing it out of the water as said parents proudly watched.

Fast forward to said toddler’s teenage years. She and a friend are sitting on the couch, chatting with each other while texting people who aren’t there. Annemarie says to Alyssa, “Hang on. Let me finish this text. I want to really listen to what you’re saying.”

I want to barge in and say, “How rude! I can’t believe you’re dissing Alyssa like this!” But Alyssa acts like this is totally normal, waits for Annemarie to finish her text, and then they put down their cell phones and have a f-2-f h-2-h.

While I wonder what planet I’m on. The rules for “normal” aren’t my normal, that’s for sure!



A couple of years ago, in preparation for my CAPSO presentation "Tuning In to iTeens," I invited a bunch of seniors to my house for pizza and conversation. While I’d prided myself in being a tech-savvy, GenM knowing, with-it kinda teacher, I quickly realized how in the dark I’ve been about my teens' daily experiences of navigating -- and moving between -- virtual reality ns face-to-face reality. (Keep an eye on Student A, the one who says she can text and fully engage in a f-2-f conversation at the same time. Does she inspire you? Amaze you? Worry you? Sadden you?)


In this first clip, the girls talk about texting while talking, as well as multitasking:



Here's a use for texting I hadn't thought of:



When texting "goes wrong":



They admit that there are some things that don't "work" via virtual reality, such as the tone of voice used when being sarcastic:



I ask them about addiction (notice what they mean by “conversation”!)



I ask if they get enough sleep and then if they get enough "down time," which they misunderstood at first:



I'm not going to add commentary to these videos. In fact, I'll ask for your response -- what did you notice? learn? Did anything surprise you? worry you? sadden you? encourage you?


Digital Natives vs. Digital Immigrants vs. Digital Aborigines

While I’ve found Prensky’s “digital natives” and “digital immigrants” to be useful metaphors, I don’t think I’ve ever applied them as deeply as their originator intended. Jamie McKenzie’s review of Prensky and his work, while pointed (“digital drum major” doesn’t sound like a compliment!), is a good caution. Prensky is obviously enamored by game-based learning, as evidenced by his two books, Digital Game-Based Learning and Don't Bother Me Mom--I'm Learning! (I’ll be using Prensky’s and McKenzie’s articles with my AP class to study both logical falicies and sarcasm.)

Since I grew up in a family of immigrants, the concept of a “digital immigrant” having an “accent” is a useful analogy for me. Like my German grandmother, who often had to repeat herself several times in order to be understood, I need to be patient with myself and I need to teach my students to be tolerant of my learning curve. Daniel has theorized a third category: digital aborigine, someone who was around at the very beginning -- building computers from scratch, programming in the old language, pouring time and energy and resources into machines that didn’t do very much -- only to be leap-frogged by the “new and improved” generation of “digital natives.” (When fussing with a cantankerous computer as the students snicker, Daniel can be heard muttering, “I was here first...I was here first...I was here first!)


The Kids Are Indoors

Gina Jett, former prosecuting attorney, spoke to my English II class from her perspective as one who put pedofiles on trial. She felt that an increase in “stranger danger” caused parents to bring their children indoors, where TV became the natural “activity” that replaced running around in the neighborhood ‘til bedtime. While it is laudable that parents want to keep their children “safe,” simply bringing them inside isn’t truly meeting their physical needs. I can’t help but wonder how much childhood and teenage depression is the result of kids missing out on the natural opiates produced by the body during exercise. I also worry that our kids are not as in touch with their bodies and, thus, are becoming less likely to care for them (through proper diet, sleep, exercise, water, hygiene, etc.) and even more likely to harm them (thru drugs/alcohol, self injury, risky behaviors, etc.)


“Edutainment”

I wonder what Prensky would say to eSchool News’ “Can Gaming Change Education?” This article made educational gaming sound a lot more complicated that Prensky’s articles and books. According to the Joan Ganz Cooney report Stansbury references, "Experts in the field agree that kids love playing [video games], but the research has not fully demonstrated with precision why or how they work, as well as how to design them for specific learning goals,"

The amount of time, money, and expertise necessary to create games that the kids will play and learn from seem astronomical. According to an MIT report, "If your spaceship requires you to answer a math problem before you can use your blasters, chances are you’ll hate the game and the math.” Oops! Back to the drawing board?

This summer, I’m planning to research the relationship between complex video games and boys’ writing multi-episode stories. Emerging evidence shows that when teachers allow and encourage them, some boys write long, detailed sagas with multiple story arcs that mimic the “level” system of many challenging video games. I’m not sure how I’ll use this in the classroom, but I’m intrigued!


A “New” (?) Addiction

Julia Scheere’s “The Quest to End Game Addiction” made me wonder if the problem is the games or the people or some combination of the two. I thought back to my high school days, when some of my guy friends would spend all night (and all day, if possible!) playing Dungeons and Dragons. Video and online gaming seem to be very much the same thing, just much more accessible; instead of having to go through all the work of gathering in the same place at the same time, gamers can be instantly connected.

Especially telling, and sad, is Dr. Maressa Hecht Orzack's explanation, "Many of these people are lonely, have never felt like they belonged," she said. "People get a sense of belonging in the game. In some cases, it provides the only friends they interact with." (Quoted by David Becker in "When Games Stop Being Fun")

And this is my major worry when it comes to "virtual reality" vs. "face-to-face" reality. Thanks to my senior girls who allowed me to spend two hours grilling and videotaping them, as well as my own two teenagers, I have tons of questions about "virtual relationships." Questions such as:

* When a boyfriend and girlfriend have been texting non-stop all Spring Break, what do they talk about when they're reunited? ("I went to the mall." . . . "Uh, I know. You texted me the whole time you were there. And sent photos of ever dress you tried on." . . . "Oh yeah." . . . )

* How will a newlywed twenty-something girl, who is used to quitting a chat window when the discussion gets too intense (or lying and saying the modem shut down), deal with a face-to-face conflict with a real husband (whom she can't "close" or "quit")?

* Will saying "wait, I want to really listen to you" be acceptable in the workplace? If not, how will this generation learn (a) that it's not and (b) new ways of relating?

Technology for Communication and Collaboration

My Experiences of Group Projects in the Classroom

I resonated immediately with Ellen Lupton’s comment, “In my own experiences as a student, I have enjoyed voluntary, informal collaborations with my friends, but I have resented being forced into arbitrary, mismatched teams in the name of social correctness.” As a student, I found that most “group projects” in the classroom quickly became “let Cheri do the work and we’ll copy” projects.

As a teacher, I’ve used group projects with varying degrees of success. The most successful were those for which “the students had a degree of individual ownership” and “a commitment to the coherence of the overall project,” (Lupton).

When I taught junior high, we did several simulation games (from Interact) each year, for which the students were divided into teams. The most popular -- Flight -- involved teams of three: a pilot, a copilot, and a navigator. Each person played a very specific role, which most of the students took very seriously. And, contrary to prevailing wisdom, I had no problem ousting non-cooperative group members and letting them “fly solo” if they were dragging down the morale and grades of their group.


Benefits of Group Projects

When group projects go well, I believe they spark some of the best learning that takes place in my classroom. Even sworn introverts are often surprised by how much they learn from the collaborative process. While I certainly see the role of individual work, I think it's extremely limited and limiting. (But then, I’m biased; my favorite thing in the world is synergy! I work and learn so much better as part of a team than on my own; I seek out and benefit from lots of input from others.)

Obvious benefits include social skills (which need to be taught and modeled prior to and during the group process; we can’t just assume that “the kids know how to act.”) But it’s also just plain magical to see a new whole emerge from the group process, one that’s greater than the sum of its parts. Backtracking the process -- “I said, and then you added, and a day later, and from the book, and then we thought, and then . . . “ is a dizzying confirmation of how messy and exhilarating the group creativity process can be!

Plus, as quoted by Ellie Ashford in the eSN Special Report on small-group collaboration, Stan Silverman (director of technology-based learning systems at the New York Institute of Technology) explains, "Everyone needs to be able to collaborate in a group, because that’s how things are done in the real world. No one sits alone and works by themselves any more."

Silverman calls students who sit and watch while the teacher or a few students work up front “educational voyeurs.” He also points out what most of us know from experience: when the teacher lectures at the front of the class, (s)he “targets the instruction to the middle, ignoring the passive, inattentive students in the back and the more advanced students who might be bored because they already know the material.” Small group work has the potential to challenge advanced students while less advanced students receive much needed peer mentoring.


Some Frustrations of Group Projects

* Key group members missing due to illness, etc. so the group “can’t work because so-and-so isn’t here and (s)he has everything

* Groups that get off task easily

* Groups that settle for the bare minimum

* Groups that focus only on the points and miss out on the process

* Individual group members who either don’t care how they impact the group or actively seek to have a negative impact or have a diagnosable condition that makes it so challenging for them and/or their group members that the purpose for the group becomes secondary to survival


How Online Tools Can Help Group Projects

My initial experience with the Internet was twenty years ago, with discussion bulletin boards and an e-mail “loop” involving a group of thirty Stay At Home Moms. I discovered the powerful community that could be built between women who had never met face-to-face. We explored parenting issues together. We supported each other through difficult life situations. For several years, we pooled money and sent “welcome baby” gift packages as new family members arrived. I learned how valuable a certain amount of anonymity and a great deal of asynchronicity could be.

I believe that asynchronicity is one of the major benefits of online group tools. There are twenty of us in this course, and we know by the date/time stamps that we’re not all doing the exact same assignment at the exact same time; in fact, the flexibility is probably one of the main reasons we’re taking this course!

So why would we assume that in a class of 30 students, each and every one of those 30 individuals are just ready and waiting to learn the way we need/want them to, all at the same time in the same place? Online group tools give our students some element of choice regarding when and how they participate in the group activities; for certain personalities, learning styles, and life situations, this is vital. Online tools also give students a bit of "cover" due to the perceived anonymity. I regularly have students express themselves more frequently and more fully via our online forums than in the classroom; there seems to be an extra element of safety.

Online tools can help us, as teachers, be more effective as we work with our students. In December 2009, Jim Burke started the English Companion Ning on a whim -- he had just gotten back from the NCTE and realized that very few new teachers had attended, so he wanted to create a place where new teachers could rub virtual shoulders with seasoned teachers.

As of tonight, more than 13,500 people have joined what’s been dubbed “the world’s largest English department.” It allows teachers (and librarians and others!) to experience the benefits of collaboration described by Carla Thomas McClure without ever having to leave home. One of the first book clubs on the EC Ning was led by Harvey Daniels and Stephanie Harvey focused on their new book Collaboration and Comprehension: Inquiry Circles in Action.

Taking this a step further, I now follow Jim Burke on Delicious, and I’m planning to “stalk” as many other teacher-authors as I can, especially those who are still researcher-practioners in the classroom.


My Own Experiences with Online Collaboration Tools

Last year, I was so excited to use an online discussion forum with my AP English Literature and Composition class. I was mystified when it “failed to launch” -- the students wrote short, simplistic, often silly responses to the prompts and to each other. And a couple of months into the course, just as I was leaving for oral surgery, one of my “top” students decided to “flame” everyone with a caustic, insulting, rude, and completely inappropriate post.

In discussing this event with my academic vice principal, we recognized two major problems. First, the discussion forum did not look like or function like anything with which my students were familiar. And second, I had not taught the students anything about online etiquette.

This year, the students responded very positively to the Nings I’ve set up -- they look, feel, and function a lot more like Facebook. And before anyone was allowed to log on, we went through very specific “do”s and “don’t”s. And as students have violated the rules, accidentally or otherwise, I’ve had the opportunity to re-teach and reinforce positive virtual citizenship.


Alleviating Frustrations Caused by Online Tools

As discussed above, I’ve learned to assume nothing and teach everything. Just because my students think they are light years more tech savvy than I'll ever be, and just because I perceive them to be “digital natives” does not mean that they “know it all”. In fact, I’m learning how very poor they often are at transfering knowledge.

Also, from the voice of experience, always have a back-up plan! I recently had to scramble when our server was down during 4th period and all my students’ research note cards were trapped on NoodleTools.

Horse Crazy Girl

So, here's my very first attempt at "digital storytelling"!

The quality of the photos is mostly quite poor -- I used them because I already had them as a series that pretty much tell their own story. If I were doing this for more than a "trial run" experience, I'd re-shoot everything. (Think of the grainy photos as "impressionistic" and perhaps you won't be so annoyed by them...!)

Initially, I'd planned to find instrumental music to play in the background so that I could write and record a story in my own voice over the "slides." But once I thought of the song "I Believe I Can Fly" and got the timing just right, I decided that voice-overs would be too distracting. (I'm an auditory learner, and I find vocal music with narration on top of it highly distracting and extremely frustrating since I can't concentrate on either one and, thus, miss both.)

Plus, at this point I've already put more than 5.5 hours into the project -- I've gotta move on!

I did end up rearranging the slides to better match the music. I'd initially planned to put the slide of me riding Bella and smiling at the camera followed by the slide of me listening to my instructor followed by the slide of me jumping followed by the slide of me smiling after the jump. But the best emotional intensity seemed to come from aligning the song's words "I believe I can fly" with the slide of me jumping.

I also ended up hunting for a few more photos to "flesh out" the movie -- I wanted something cool for "miracle," so I found the photo of someone (not me -- yet!) riding through the waves. And the two closing photos I like because they are more up close and personal.

The "story" told by my project is more ambiguous than I meant it to be. If I'd actually scripted it and narrated it, I'd be talking quite fast, telling various stories about my training in English Huntseat as a child, all the times I got thrown but got back on the horse, cracking a vertabrae eight years ago and fearing I'd never ride again, etc. And I could still do this in the future -- as I tell my students, when a project goes a different direction than planned, save all the “goodies” from the original plan. They may come in handy later!

But this project went from didactic story to mood piece, and I think the ambiguity allows the viewer to explore his/her own longings to “fly.”

I started the project with 9 photos, a storyboard form, and Post-It notes (to re-arrange on the storyboard form.) But once I got going, the whole project took on a life of its own. It was time-consuming and messy and a bit frustrating but, ultimately, very rewarding. There's a LOT more I wish I could have done to make this a really impactful piece.

To be honest, I didn't just stop because I felt like 5.5 hours was enough time -- this is the stage of "drafting" at which I'd take a piece of writing to a critique group. It's done enough for input, but not so done that I'm wedded to everything about it. I'm open to suggestions, ideas, questions, etc. (Seriously -- if you've actually read this far, I'd love to hear from you! What worked about this digital story? What didn't? What suggestions do you have?)

And this would be wonderful to see happen in the classroom -- to have students bring their "rough drafts" with all the bits and pieces they're still pondering. They could have two or three versions of a particular segment and have the class let them know which one was most emotionally compelling. (Kinda like "real" movies, where alternate endings are field tested before the movie is finalized.)

I really got a feel for the process, and for me, at least, it really does mirror the writing process in MANY ways. One thing I'll be working on in the classroom is being intentional about using cross-over vocabulary to describe similar stages of writing and digital storytelling.


Click HERE to view the video "Horse Crazy Girl"!

Digital Story-Telling

Purpose and Benefits of Digital Storytelling

Life is story.

Period.

(I’d say, “End of story,” but I’d like to actually receive credit for this assignment!)

I was raised by an Armenian storyteller, from whom I learned the all-important rule: “Never ruin a good story with the facts.” (This horrified the German truth-teller in the family, but that is, as they say, a different story!)

Every important truth and lesson was communicated through and/or illustrated through story. We read the Bible Story Books. The Bedtime Story Books.

When I went on rounds with my father, I’d watch him sit next to a patient and ask simply, “Tell me your story.”
 When I’ve had it “up to here” with a student, all it takes is a fragment of his story (however awkwardly written or told) and suddenly, I can go the distance.

StoryCorps is founded on the belief that Listening is an Act of Love. And in our hectic, multi-tasking world, we need all the acts of love -- listening to each others’ stories -- we can get.

The purpose of digital storytelling is, at its core, the same as its age-old counterpart, verbal storytelling: to communicate experience and truth via head and heart.

But digital storytelling has some added benefits. The ability to pre-produce the story so that its delivery is exactly according to plan -- no nervousness, no props falling, no microphones cutting in-and-out -- increases its potential effectiveness. The combination of spoken words, printed words, still pictures, moving pictures, sound effects, and music has the potential to awaken and speak to every aspect of the viewer/listener/experiencer.


Benefits in the classroom?

My students will be forced to ask and address the “so what?” question that they all-too-often ignore when writing the obligatory “personal narrative” assignment. In two decades of teaching, I can’t tell you how sadly amazed I’ve been how quickly my students -- who talk so animatedly before and after class about the exciting and amazing things they do -- are reduced to total banality when the teacher says, “Pick an event that happened recently and write about it.”

First they insist that there is nothing, absolutely nothing, to write about. Nothing has happened to them. Ever. And when they do scrawl something down, it’s -- to use my German grandmother’s expression -- datsus. Bland. B-o-r-i-n-g. And they expect me, the teacher, to accept this minimalist effort. (And by the very act of taking it out of their hands and putting it in a folder to “grade,” I do, of course, accept it -- my expectations are, after all, defined by the lowest level of work I accept!)

Their peers won’t let them get away with this...er...garbage. And for the most part, they won’t even consider wasting anyone’s time for such an audience as real, authentic, and important as their peers. All along the way, if the conflict isn’t clear, if the pacing is slow, if the ending doesn’t work, they’ll get the reality check they need...and from people who matter to them.

(The last time I, the teacher, told a student she needed to add more detail, she copped an attitude and told me, “I’m purposely being general so each reader can bring his or her own details to the essay.” When her peers told her to add more details, because they had no clue what she was trying to say, the details showed up the next day.)

I also see digital storytelling as a fabulous way for students to develop “voice” -- the all-important element of writing that is oh-so-hard to teach (and even oh-so-elusive to define!)

And the element of “economy” guarantees that deep revision -- not just a quick check for surface errors -- will occur not just once, but many times.


Is digital storytelling appropriate for my current teaching context?

Absolutely! I’ve got to do a lot more research before I spring it on the students. (I would SO love to attend the 3-day seminar in Berkley, but I’m already scheduled to be at the Ashland Shakespeare Festival that week!)

But I can see myself using digital storytelling with my English II, English IV, and AP English Literature and Composition students throughout the year.

Why?



I believe it will add a new level rigor and a new sense of purpose to the “writing” assignments I’m already giving. A simple demonstration paper/speech on “how to survive your first month at MBA” could become a video that we use to help the faculty/staff better understand what it’s like for a new MBA student and to orient new International students. A “tribute to my mom” video could be used in future years to lead into Amy Tam’s “Two Kinds” or Billy Collins The Lanyard.

I could be wrong, here, but I suspect that my students have a strong sense of when a video is “well done” and how to fix a video that is at the “not quite” stage. I don’t see that same understanding when it comes to writing; they seem mystified about the difference between “well done” and “not quite” essays, caring only about the grade.


Review 2 examples of digital storytelling


My Favorite Books -- I like the concept of this, but the voice-over was very slow and unemotional. If this person likes these books, her passion should be heard in her voice! It sounded as though she was very concerned about reading her script properly and unconcerned about sharing her love of books. I also got bored by seeing the covers of books while music played; I would like to have heard a quick sentence or two about each book. Why did Is Your Mama a Llama help her learn to rhyme? (And why was it important to learn to rhyme?)

I would love to show this to my students and let them critique it -- they’d rip it apart (my English II students are especially critical of unsophisticated attempts at using technology!) Then I’d have them create their own assignment and rubric . . . and then actually do it.


My Mama -- Again, I liked the concept of this one. It was quite slow -- perhaps I need to learn to slow down rather than expect material to come at me so quickly! My own mother is rapidly progressing through the stages of Alzheimer’s Disease; she still knows who I am, but I’m frequently called “Carrie” (her sister) or “Annemarie” (my daughter.) The day is coming when all three of us will be indistinguishable in her mind. This made me start thinnking about which photos I would pull together and what narrative I’d use to join them as the story of my mother.

I’ve been thinking of having my students do some sort of essay in tribute to their mothers (or mother figures) for Mothers’ Day. I think this would be appropriate to show at school, but I’m not sure how effective it would be. Most of my students don’t care about listening to someone else’s memories that don’t include them. I’d have to really set up the purpose of watching/listening, but even then, I know I’d lose many of them.

Filter Change

This morning, what struck me on my first reading of Psalm 51 was verse 3, "For I know my transgressions, and my sin is always before me."

So I searched for an image that would show the difference between how I see myself -- messy, dirty, guilt-ridden, shame-filled -- and how God knows me -- clean, whiter than snow, pure-hearted, joy-restored.

The filters work on a visual level; there's pretty stark contrast, there!

But they also work on an auditory level, too.

Oh, it's easy for me to give intellectual assent to verse 17: "The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, Oh God, you will not despise."

Yes, I know that God sees me as "broken and beautiful."

But when it comes to actually living my broken life, a cacophany of condemning voices remind me of my faults and keep my failures always before me.

I battle daily between two opposing desires.

On the one hand, I long to silence the voices. To hide...myself. To cleanse...myself. To make myself look and sound better than I am.

On the other hand, I value vulnerability, transparency. I learn the most from other Christians who share their struggles with me, and I aim to share my authentic self with others, "warts and all."

A couple of weeks ago, the critical voices were at fever pitch. I'd just given four messages for a women's retreat. By Sunday noon, I was exhausted. I felt that I'd followed God's leading in preparing prior to the retreat, and I'd sensed His Spirit the entire weekend. But afterward, I just couldn't get a read on the results -- how had it gone? (i.e. How had I done?) My e-mail in box was uncharacteristically empty that evening...and the next day...and the next.

The voices of judgement grew deafening: "You think that sharing your 'broken heart' with the women is anything but proof that you are a total screw-up? You think you are even capable of being 'contrite'? You are such a phony, a total fraud! Let's review all the ways you f-a-i-l-e-d just in the days leading up to the retreat, let alone the months and years prior. What on earth made you think that someone as messed-up as you could possibly offer anything to Godly women? You should be ashamed of yourself..."

And then -- praise God! -- the filter changed.

An e-mail arrived from one of the retreat committee members, sharing about a woman who'd had a very difficult week at work and almost didn't come to the retreat:

She returned to [work] on Monday in jubilation over her experience at retreat. She said, "I loved the speaker because she didn't come across as one of those 'Praise the Lord, I'm on top of the world' kind of speakers. I just couldn't have taken that at this time in my life. Cheri was so real and encouraging."

I thought you should know. I know how the enemy tries to attack when victories have been won. I wanted you to know God truely worked in and through you.

The voice of the enemy tries to convince me that my broken heart is proof of my pathetic uselessness.

But the Word of God tells me that He takes my broken pieces and rebuilds a new life.

Renews a steadfast spirit within me.

And restores the joy of His salvation.

***

There’s a businessman, there’s a widowed wife
A smiling face with a shattered life
A teenage girl with a choice to make
It’s crowded here in church today

And the preacher says as the sermon ends
“Please close your eyes, bow your heads
Is there anyone in need of prayer,
Oh Jesus wants to meet you here”
Cause we all fall short, and we all have sinned
But when you let, God’s grace break in

(Chorus)
It’s Beautiful, Beautiful
Come as you are
Surrender your heart
Broken and beautiful

Well he’d never been to church before
But he came today as a last resort
His world was crashing in
And he was suffocating in his sin

But tears rolled down as hope rushed in
He closed his eyes, raised his hands
Worshipping the God who can
Bring him back to life again

(Chorus)
And it’s beautiful, beautiful
Come as you are
Surrender your heart
Broken and beautiful, beautiful
Come as you are
Surrender your heart
Broken and beautiful

Cause there’s nothing more beautiful at all
Than when His sons and daughters call, broken

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Come as you are
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Come as you are

(Chorus)
Broken and beautiful, beautiful
Come as you are
Surrender your heart
Broken and beautiful, beautiful
Come as you are
Surrender your heart
Broken and beautiful
Come as you are
Broken and beautiful, beautiful
Come as you are
Surrender your heart

Broken and beautiful
Broken and beautiful
Broken and beautiful
Beautiful

Mark Schultz - Broken & Beautiful
From the album Broken & Beautiful

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A "Nudge" to Action

I'll be honest: when foot washing is announced, my heart sinks. The pastor might as well declare, "We'll be dividing up for kickball teams. Go stand in the foyer and start feeling like a loser."

Aware that my thoughts are completely selfish (which triggers guilt which focuses me ever more inward), I panic. Who will pick me? Will anyone invite me, or is everyone already taken? Will I be left, once again, alone?

If I miraculously find myself with a partner, I -- without fail! -- discover that today is the one day of the year that I wore nylons with runs in both feet or came to church with half my toenail polish chipped off. I want to hide.

Then, as if the futility of spreading a teaspoon of tepid water over a stranger's feet and pretending to dry them with sandpaper isn't stilted enough, there's the prayer. I am not a good pray-er. Everyone I pray with acts as if they're waiting for something more -- more words? more sincerity? more spirituality? I look around when we're done and see other women still praying, still weeping, still talking, still hugging. I just can't seem to get it right.

This is the "baggage" I lugged to my time with John 13:1-17 this morning. My initial urge was to simply skip it (which would be par for the course; I've often escaped to the bathroom during foot washing.) But I'm glad I didn't. I had several "ah-HA!" moments as I read, prayed, re-read, and meditated on this passage.

"Having loved his own who were in the world, he now showed them the full extent of his love." I had to read this twice to make sure I hadn't turned ahead to the crucifixion -- that's what I expected "the full extent of his love" would refer to. But what occurs directly after this phrase is Jesus' washing of his disciples' feet. Something about this ceremony is His expression of "the full extent of his love." Not a glimpse of his love. Not a partial unveiling. A total revelation of the full extent of his love. That's big.

"You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand." Jesus makes it clear that his disciples are going to be confused! That I am often going to be confused. (Huh?!?) But he does it anyhow. He doesn't wait for perfect clarity. He doesn't wait until I'm in the Zone of Proximal Development. He doesn't wait 'til my individual comfort zone has expanded to include Him. He does what He needs to do, what I need Him to do, even though understanding is a ways down the road. He knows I'm not going to get it right...yet. And He's okay with that.

"No...you shall never wash my feet." This is Peter. And this is me. I balk, sometimes from independence ("Lord, I don't need Your help; I can do this on my own while You take care of someone who actually needs You!) sometimes from shame ("Lord, You shouldn't have to stoop this low; I'm so sorry to be so needy...) "Then, Lord, not just my feet but my hands and my head as well!" Again, this is Peter. And, again, me. No middle-of-the-road. Moderation? A foreign concept. We're all-or-nothing, all the way. Jesus' response? No lecture on avoiding extremes. He oh-so-gently refocuses Peter, and me, on what He is doing.

"Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them." Knowledge is a means to an end. I won't be blessed by knowledge but by applying knowledge. By doing.

I'm not going to tack a happy ending on this blog and say that I can't wait until the next time foot washing is announced at church. One morning's quiet time hasn't totally transformed how I think, feel, and behave.

But it has given me much to think, pray, and listen for guidance about. I know from experience that a nudge will come. Instead of fretting about my nylons or nail polish, I'll focus on sensing, understanding, and acting on that nudge.

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(If) It's Really Simple, (Why Do I Feel So) Stupid! (?!) -- Part Deuce

Soooo, after checking out other blogs that were clearly done right, I played around and figured out how to separate things out. I'm not going to post them as widgets, as my blog is cluttered enough.

Instead, here they be:

(If) It's Really Simple, (Why Do I Feel So) Stupid! (?!)

Okay, my brain officially h.u.r.t.s.

I have almost no clue what I just did (although I am thrilled that it appears to be done!) But it's going to be a few weeks before my poor inductive brain back tracks and "gets" the steps along the way!

I'll explain my links real quickly (from the bottom of the list up):

Blog: Yudu is a program that can be used to create digital magazines that look almost like the real thing! I'm hoping to explore this method of "publication" with my students during 4th quarter.

Flickr: Shameless bragging -- this is our daughter's work. She's a Fine Art/Art Therapy Major at PUC and having a wonderful time!

Delicious: I'm going to have to spend 20 minutes a day during Spring Break until I finally "figure out" Delicious. I've downloaded it but don't use it. Here, I've subscribed to Jim Burke's bookmarks -- he's one of THE big names in English teaching. (His seminars and books are fantastic, and he speaks from present experience -- 30 years and counting in the classroom!)

Podcasts: Neither of these are going to end up being very useful, I'm afraid. The one from iTunes leads to some FABULOUS student work. And the Diction lecture is from an AP teacher. But I don't think either of these are "real" podcasts in the sense that they have regular "episodes" that I can look forward to.


The experience of doing this was more frustrating than anything thus far, simply because I didn't "get" what the outcome would look like. I didn't realize that all my shared items would show up together in one code -- I thought I'd be producing four different sets of code. (Don't ask me why -- that was just my expectation!) Google Reder was very intuitive -- it was nice to be able to see what the code would actually produce on my blog.

The value I see in using any or all of this with my classes is mainly for me, at this point. Once I really figure out how to locate good podcasts -- or more likely, good podcasters! -- I am the type who will download them to my iPod and listen. (I'm a highly auditory learner!) I also think that learning to "follow" key words and topics in Delicious will be a valuable way of tracking down pre-screened (and, thus, good) resources, VERY quickly.

The SAMR Model

I’m finding the SAMR model (Substitution - Augmentation - Modification - Redifinition) to be very practical. As I thought through the various class activities for today’s blog, figuring out exactly where to classify them was more challenging that I thought it would be.

I kept wanting to “dress up” S and A activities; had to remind myself of the caveat that there’s nothing wrong with using “Substitution” or “Augmentation” if it’s what’s appropriate for the task!

So, without further ado, my class activities illustrating each level of the SAMR Model:


Substitution

The clearest example of Substitution -- technology acting as a direct tool substitute with no functional improvement -- at least in my class, is using my SMART Board to do the vocabulary review games available at the Sadlier-Oxford website. There’s hangman, concentration, a crossword puzzle, and a few others. The students like being able to come up to drag-and-trop the letters, but it gets old very quickly. When used this way, the SMART Board quickly moves from the sublime to the ridiculous, as an expensive projector bulb sacrifices precious life hours on a game that can be played just as well with pencil and paper!


Augmentation

A searchable eText seems like a good example of technology acting as a direct tool substitute, but with functional improvement. When my AP English Literature & Composition class spends several weeks in small groups researching a particular work of literature through the “lens” of a specific school of literary criticism, a searchable eText transforms what used to be painstaking laborious work onto a complete breeze! The Mythological/Archetypal group, for example, is looking for key symbols, such as the "snake" or "serpent". Rather than spending hours re-reading each page, hoping to catch every mention, they simply give a search command to the eText reader and start following the results. This way, they can start analyzing results immediately, putting the bulk of their time into higher-level thinking skills rather than dumb monkey work.


Modification

The iClickers that I pull out a several times per month feel like a good fit for technology that allows for significant task redesign. I often use them with a set of hybrid quiz/discussion springboard PowerPoint slides. We alternate between actual quiz questions, for which there are actual right and wrong answers being automatically recorded, and discussion-starter questions to which they must respond, but they are only graded for submitting an answer.

The students love the instantaneous feedback the iClickers provide. Immediately after a quiz question is closed, a graph pops up on the screen showing how many students gave which answers, and then the correct one is identified. By the end of the quiz, all questions are scored, and each student knows how many (s)he received right and wrong.

And they really love being polled as a method of inviting discussion. After the above quiz question (Dimmesdale asks Hester to think for him and be strong for him), I presented the following discussion question to my AP class: In a healthy relationship, the man will ask the woman to think for him and be strong for him (a) never, (b) rarely, (c) occasionally, (d) frequently, (e) often:

When the bar graph popped up, I invited my extremists to identify themselves and defend their positions. In this mode, they may choose to remain anonymous which is, I feel, is the real power of iClickers. While I could poll students the low-tech way -- having them hold up 1, 2, 3, 4, or 5 fingers to indicate their level of agreement -- I find that the students value the option of expressing their true opinion without being known until the results are all in.


Redefinition

The Nings I’ve set up for each of my classes are my best current example of technology allowing for the creation of new tasks previously inconceivable.

While many individual components of the Ning are simply Substitution or Augmentation -- such as my posting of homework assignments and handouts -- the “sum total” of a Ning is far greater than just the sum of its parts.

At the beginning of the year, blogging seemed like just a slightly different way to do the “same old thing” -- hammer out an essay.

But through the year, as students have shared drafts, commented with praise and critique, participated in asynchronous discussions (which bring together students from both class periods), and community of co-learners is developing.

My students are co-creators in the content, adding links, articles, photos, videos, etc. The Ning is like an expanding scrapbook of our shared journey.








Stranger Danger and Voice Choice

I love similes. And metaphors. And especially symbols.

My students tell me, "You have to, Mrs. G, you're an English teacher!" I try to convince them that they've got their cause-and-effect relationship switched: I have always loved figures of speech. So, I became an English teacher to spend more time with literature and literary devices!

The Bible holds some of the world's greatest literature. I think God must love similes and metaphors and symbols, just like I do -- He sure inspired His writers to use lots of them!

The metaphors that caught my eye this morning, as I was exploring John 10:1-21, are familiar ones: "I am the gate for the sheep," says Jesus, and "I am the good shepherd."

The sheep who "come in and go out" through Him will "find pasture." This reminds me of Psalm 18:19a -- "he brought me out into a spacious place" -- and, of course, Psalm 23:2-3a -- "he makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul."

Oh, how I long for green pastures, spacious places, quiet waters -- for restoration of my soul!

Why do these seem so elusive in my day-to-day life?

An answer for me, at least, becomes clear through John 10:3-5: "The watch-man opens the gate for [the shepherd], and the sheep listen to his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice. But they will never follow a stranger; in fact, they will run away from him because they do not recognize a stranger's voice."

Sheep won't follow a stranger's voice. They only follow the voice of their shepherd. This saves them, because the stranger's true identity is revealed, in verse 10, as a thief who "comes only to steal and kill and destroy."

Sheep have an intuitive sense of "stranger danger" that serves them well. Their "run away" instinct keeps them from being stolen, killed, and destroyed. They run away from danger -- the stranger/thief -- and follow their shepherd to safety, to quiet green spacious pastures.

But what about me? Oh, I'd love to say "I will never follow a stranger; in fact, I run away from the thief because I don't recognize his voice."

The problem is, I do.

I recognize the stranger's voice, because I stop following the shepherd long enough to chat with the thief. Why? Sometimes it's curiosity. Sometimes it's defiance. Sometimes it's ennui.

Always, I tell myself that I'll stop for just a moment, chat for just a second, and then get right back to following the shepherd. As if a thief and murderer will part so easily with his prey.

I listen to the stranger. And I believe myself.

Both such destructive choices of voices! When I listen to the stranger and when I listen to myself, my life is stolen and destroyed.

When I listen to Christ's Words, however, I hear an ironically symbolic juxtaposition. He reminds me that the "shepherd lays down his life for the sheep"..."that they may have life, and have it to the full."

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"How far will they go among so many?"

It's "that time of the year" for teachers.

Third quarter is wrapping up, which means grades are due next week. I spent three hours last night scoring and writing comments on AP essays. Didn't even touch last Friday's test. Or the other five classes I teach.

Of course, the start of fourth quarter follows the end of third, which means I also need to be working on detailed lesson plans. While, of course, remaining mindful of the myriad events that define the final quarter of the school year. And maintaining high academic standards until the very end.

As I look through the calendar, I panic, "How am I ever going to do it all?" I'm pretty sure this very question tapped me on the shoulder at 2:30 AM this morning and refused to let me get back to sleep. Overwhelmed and sleep-deprived. Whatta a twofer!

I'm working my way through the gospel of John, and today's story is from John 6:1-15 -- Jesus feeding the five thousand. Now, I heard this story told with felt cut-outs when I was a child. As a teenager, I put together little baskets with two sesame sticks and five goldfish crackers for my Vacation Bible School kids. I took a class on the life and teachings of Jesus in college. I know this story!

But clearly, God knows me. And He knew that today I needed to read this old familiar story in a new way.

Most sermons I've heard preached on this story focus on (a) the little boy's selflessness in giving away his lunch or (b) Philip's faith in bringing five small loaves and two fishes to Jesus. Without meaning to discount either, what strikes me today is Philip's question, "...but how far will they go among so many?"

How can so little meet so many needs?

How can one person get everything done?

Because, of course, my life isn't just about grading and lesson plans! It's supposed to be about the people: my students. My own children. My husband. My family. My friends. I'm guilty of fixating on paperwork because that, at least, I am capable of getting done. But reaching all 110 students who enter and exit my classes each day? Meeting Annemarie's, Jonathon's, and Daniel's needs? Maintaining relationships with family and friends?

How far can I go among so many?

I already know the answer. When I focus on the needs I see and attempt to meet them all myself -- or when I look at everything that has to get done and try to do it all myself -- I either quit without even trying or almost kill myself accomplishing nothing of lasting value.

But what if, as in this story, I offer myself to Jesus? What if I allow Him to take me, give thanks (for me?!?), and distribute me as He sees fit?

Could it be that as He fulfills all needs, I'll be more me than I was when He started?

Instead of stretched-to-the-breaking-point me, instead of burnt-out-to-crispy-crumbs me, instead of resentful rotten me, twelve baskets of extra, abundant me?

Just like that little lad
Who gave Jesus all he had
How the multitude was fed
With the fish and the loaves of bread
What you have may not seem much
But when you yield it to the touch
Of the Master's loving hand, yes,
Then you'll understand How your life could never be the same.

Just ordinary people
God uses ordinary people
He chooses people just like me and you
Who are willing to do as He commands
God uses people that will give Him all
No matter how small your all may seem to you
Because little becomes much as you place it in the Master's hand.

"Ordinary People" by Danniebelle Hall

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"Then They Believed..."

As I read John 2:12-25 this morning and tried to discern what God might be asking me to hear and do, I secretly hoped I'd receive instructions to do some "temple cleansing."

I was raised to respect the sanctuary, so it drives me nuts to see a student (or adult!) texting during the service, getting a back rub, putting feet up on the pew in front (!), and generally acting as if the only thing that matters in the world is, oh, SELF. Doing a little "whipping into shape" sounds v-e-r-y appealing.

However, I am not the Son of God. And while I know God wants me to have zeal for his house, He's been pretty clear that I'm not to start braiding cords any time soon.

In fact, the portion that really hit home is in verse 22, which says "After He was raised from the dead, his disciples recalled what he had said. Then they believed the scripture and the words that Jesus had spoken."

The disciples saw Jesus take action and heard him say words that made no sense for over three years. Three years! They had to live for three full years wondering, "What was that all about? Do you get it? I don't get it. Didn't make sense to me either." And they were living with Jesus, traveling with Jesus, eating and drinking with Jesus.

If guys who spent that kind of time with Jesus didn't understand what he meant until three years later, then perhaps God is telling me one of two things (or both!):

First, I need to be a little (!) more patient when I don't understand what He's doing.

And second, I need to spend a lot more time with Him in order to better see and hear and comprehend. Typically, I want to know up front! Not that I'd actually say this, but the underlying message is, "God, let me know the bottom line, and then I'll hang out with you. But if you don't tell me, I won't give you the time of day." No, of course I would never actually pray or say or even think (?!) these actual words. But live them? If I'm honest, absolutely.

So, putting this into practice, I'm looking back three and a half years, to when we got the news that we'd be leaving Southern California.

My husband, Daniel, was torn; although we were moving to his beloved alma mater, he was leaving behind his gospel quartet and looking at unemployment for the first time in his life.

Our daughter, Annemarie, was devastated; she was leaving her best friend in the whole wide world.

Our son, Jonathon, was quiet about the move, but we all worried about him; we didn't know where he'd finish 8th grade or how he'd do without his "Three Musketeers" buddies he'd known since first grade.

And me? I was apprehensive; I'd be teaching classes I'd never taught before in a school twice the size of anywhere I'd ever taught!

As a family, we were leaving behind so much: The school we'd been at for fifteen years, the church we'd attended for almost that long, almost all of my relatives.

At the time, the move made no sense. We wondered constantly, "What is this all about? Do you get it? I don't get it. Didn't make sense to me either." We made the move on faith, but we spent a lot of time in confusion.

After three and a half years, however, we see and understand so much that we simply couldn't have at the time.

Daniel's quartet would have disbanded within a year or two due to a plethora of life circumstances over which he had no control, but which he would have tried to "fix" with every ounce of strength he had. Instead, he spent two blessed years "on sabbatical," renewing physical, mental, and spiritual strength that had been sapped during several very difficult years prior to the move.

Annemarie and Jonathon -- as different as they are! -- have both blossomed incredibly at MBA. They've made friends, gotten involved in music and service, and benefited from a host of Godly mentors.

And me? Because I've been pushed to grown and been supported in that growth, I've gotten out of the "rut" I was stuck in at my last school and am growing personally, spiritually, and professionally in ways that amaze me. My speaking ministry has gone from sporadic to a perpetually full calendar.

As a family, we were spared the wrenching experience of being present and involved when the church we'd attended since the kids were little experienced a split, with dear friends going opposite directions. If we'd been there when it happened, we would have tried to prevent it, tried to mediate between people, and it would have devastated all of us.

We also weren't present when three full-time positions were eliminated from the school where we'd devoted almost our entire teaching lives. Two of those positions would have been ours, so we left before we were "let go" (which we would have internalized as "being fired.")

The phrase I'm taking with me from my time in the Word today is "Then they believed." It tells me that it's okay to be confused. To not comprehend. To wonder. And it also tells me that at some point, at the right time, all will be revealed. And then I will believe even more than I do today.

So now, I'm looking forward three and a half years and getting excited about what I will know then, that I do not know now.

Then I will believe.

Yet again.

And even more!

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Cynicism vs. PLAY TIME

It’s so chic to be a cynic. Like a satirist, whose sole responsibility is to hold up human folly for ridicule, the cynic has the luxury of perusing just enough information to defend his/her perpetually sardonic “been there, done that, didn’t work” stance. Neither are required to offer alternatives, solutions, or (heaven forbid!) hope.

As a society, we elevate both, especially the cynic, to virtually god-like status. How savvy one must be to criticize so quickly! How brilliant! How erudite!

As I dismount my own bash-on-the-bashers high horse, I’ll concede that Jay Matthews makes some good points.

The “all-at-once syndrome, a common failing of reform movements” is problem. But is the fact that “[i]n this democracy, we never make changes all at once” due to the fact that we shouldn’t? Or simply that we generally can’t? Plenty of businesses, families, churches have pulled together the manpower, mindpower, and resources to make radical changes “all at once.” Just because “we” (and exactly who “we” are is not clear) don’t tend to do it doesn’t mean it can’t or shouldn’t be done.

Matthews’ observation that companies who stand to gain lots of money are part of the Partnership for 21st Century Skills is also valid. But, to use his own argument, this is nothing new. Whether we’re using chalkboards, overhead projectors, or SMART Boards, we’ll always have vendors wanting to “partner” with us for “mutual” benefit. It seems to me that there’s enough competition between them that product quality will continue going up and prices will continue edging down. When I saw the SMART Board for the first time five years ago, I assumed it would be thousands upon thousands of dollars; thanks to all the “partnerships,” competition had driven the cost down to less than two thousand dollars. A lot of money? Yes. But well within my fundraising capabilities.

But I feel that Matthew is unnecessarily snarky about this whole topic. If I read his personal experience correctly -- a single encounter with what he “now realize[s] were 21st-century skills” -- the fact that he didn’t understand any of what was going on tells us a lot more about him as a learner (who was, self-admittedly, highly distracted at that time in his life) than the course he took. And I have serious doubts as to whether or not this learning experience (which he admits was “a gut, the popular term for a course that required little or no effort”) really qualifies as “21st century skills” in spite of his labeling it such.

If this cheap imitation is what Matthew is holding up as his own personal example of 21st century skills, his credibility is in serious doubt. If a sub-for-hire divided a class into groups, told them to “work together,” and ended the day concluding that “The dummies copied from the smarty -- I’ve proven that cooperative learning doesn’t work!” I doubt Roger and David Johnson would want anything to do with him/her. Similarly, I hope Matthews isn’t holding his breath, waiting to hear the anticipated applause from the “promoters of 21st century skills” for his exemplary final exam.

I am drawn to 21st century skills’ emphasis on “big ideas” and conceptual patterns. I’m currently reading Jim Burke’s What’s the Big Idea? -- Question-Driven Units to Motivate Reading, Writing, and Thinking. As an inductive reasoner, I am very guilty of “teaching” what many students consider unrelated bytes of information; since I naturally synthesize them and find ever-widening concentric circles of meaning, I used to expect everyone to process the same thing. Not so. I’m working on making that “compelling WHY” more clear and also connecting each lesson to the one before and the one after.

Jim Burke writes that each day is like a sentence; each week is like a paragraph; each month is like a chapter; and, ultimately, each year is a book of teaching. He asks whether we are providing graceful transitions/connections between sentences, paragraphs, and chapters to make the whole book unified. I have not done so in the past, but I am working to be more purposeful at this.

I’m also encouraged to see that in at least some “21st century” classrooms, students are encouraged to evaluate the available tools and use what best serves their purpose: Podcast, movie, PowerPoint, or “just” get up and tell the story. The “oldie” option was right there on the list along with the new-fangled possibilities.

Even more impressive was one student, who casually explained, “What I’m doing today is ________ in order to ____________” -- oh, for each and every student to be able to articulate this each and every day!

Matthew needs to listen to the MEC '08 podcast with Chris Johnson; it might broaden his grasp of not only what 21st century skills actually are, but his understanding of how they are inviting schools and teachers to grow.

As an educator, I find the invitation to “play” with new technology initially frightening (what if I break everything?!?) but mostly exciting! PLAY? When was the last time I had a chance to “play”?!? And while I’m sucking oxygen at the thought of making so many mistakes in front of my students (my learning curve is REALLY steep and rocky!) I love the idea that modeling my learning for my students might actually be a method of teaching 21st century skills. I already know that they’ll run to my rescue and celebrate the role reversal as they help me learn things they already know.

(Except, of course, for the handful of cynics who sit in the corner and bash on me for being less brilliant than they. But you already know what I think of cynics!)

"Give me this water!"

One of my worst habits isn't something I do; it's something I don't do. I don't drink enough water.

I just don't think about water...until fatigue sets in and a splitting headache demands my attention. Especially during the winter, I'm simply unaware of thirst.

This morning, as I pondered the story of Jesus talking with the Samaritan woman, I was struck by her urgent request, practically a demand: "Sir, give me this water!" Here is a woman aware of her thirst. Aware of her need. Aware of the consequences of dehydration.

I am inspired by her immediacy. All too often, I deny my obvious need for water. I walk by a drinking fountain, telling myself, "I don't need just a sip. I need a full water bottle. I won't waste my time with a few gulps. They'll just leave me thirstier."

And yet what happens when I do stop and take a drink from a fountain? I actually begin to meet my body's pressing need for hydration. But something else happens, too: I suddenly become overwhelmingly aware of how badly I need that full water bottle. I realize how T-H-I-R-S-T-Y I actually am. Drinking until my thirst is quenched becomes a top priority, no longer a "when I get around to it" concept.

In John 7:37, Jesus says, "If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink."

I find it all too easy to become spiritually dehydrated because I simply don't think about my need for His "living water" until fatigue sets in. All too often, I deny my obvious need for His Word, telling myself, "I'll wait until I can spend an hour in Bible study. Five minutes isn't enough; a few quick verses will just leave me wanting more."

What happens when I do stop and meditate on a few verses? I do want more; I become overwhelmingly aware of how badly I need that hour of quiet time with God. I realize how T-H-I-R-S-T-Y I actually am. Quenching my spiritual thirst becomes a top priority.

I echo the Samaritan woman's words: "Give me this water!"