Ch-ch-cha-changes

     A new school year is knocking on the door and already the whispers have begun. "They're making changes." "They" is different in each school district, and "changes" seem to be pretty much amorphous. All that the teachers seem to know is that change is coming.

In my district we have a new superintendent. He is a shaker-upper and some teachers are waiting with great anticipation and some with great consternation. Those reactions are pretty much just what they always are when change is coming. But it didn't start with the new superintendent and it didn't start this summer.

     In many, many conversations about the state of education and where it is going, I have heard and read about how the current system is not working and that we need a transformation. For ten years I have been waiting to hear what kind of transformation that should be. For a long time, educational change was synonymous with technology. That led to the misinterpretation that just adding a computer to the lesson plans would make it all better. Even worse, it led to a me-thee attitude that if you didn't use tech, you were a bad teacher, and if you did use it, you approached awesomeness.

     The real problem is not with technology. Tech is a tool. The changes are coming with a new attitude and implementation of what education means for our students.

     We have been educating the masses with an assembly line technique. Through the years it became apparent that more and more learners were not able to be fitted with normal factory parts. It took some heart, some understanding, some research, and even some court cases to reach the point where we understood that there were outliers whose needs were not being met in the standard classroom. These students were grouped into various sub-populations and we thought we were rocking the system with a good thing. What a surprise that it only made a dent in the issues of education.

     What we fail to realize is that each and every student is an individual sub-pop. There may be some overlap, but no one learner is exactly like the next. It doesn't matter how many labels you place on a student, you can't teach him or her in the same way you did last year or ten years ago. Change is inevitable because we never deal with the same population.

     I don't have answers. I teach a specific sub-pop so my ideas and beliefs are skewed. Applying the  logic of Christensen's Disruptive Innovation (http://www.claytonchristensen.com/disruptive_innovation.html) to my students lets me understand that change comes from the un-served and the under-served. If we think of each student as under-served in some way or another we begin to see the magnitude of the problem.

     We have many educators who are great teachers based on current parameters of today's schools, but who resist the (no-longer-new) tools of the age. They don't see that these tools are not the threat. The changes coming for these teachers are that we have been grouping for economy, mass-producing curriculum, and measuring learners based on accumulation of facts, not the application of ideas, and these practices need to cease. Our standardized testing only grades and ranks the ability to accumulate, not the connection of the learning. The tools of tech are making mere accumulation obsolete. Will those educators still be considered great teachers when the whole point of education has shifted and they're still playing Jeopardy and Trivial Pursuit? They sure can be, but not without changing.

Don't Mess With Mama

     In perhaps an odd choice for a suburban mom/elementary school teacher, I recently accepted my husband's invitation and joined him in a class to get our concealed carry licenses. Yes, guns. My husband has always had interesting choices for date nights. Our first date ever was ghost hunting, but that's another story.

     We signed up for a ten hour class with DFW Shooters, taught by a very calm and patient man named Travis Bond. Far, far more calm and patient than I would be if faced with 22 strangers packing heat. He did an excellent job of talking us through gun safety and the responsibilities of carrying a weapon of any kind.

     I grew up with a dad who is a hunter and former Navy guy, so it was no big deal to see guns in the house. Dad is very aware of his guns and not once do I ever remember seeing a weapon sitting around waiting for trouble. We were taught to let them alone. In my early 20s, during my broadcasting days, an old boyfriend took me to the country to make sure I could shoot due to a problem with a stalker. I proved I could shoot and kept a gun with me for a while until the incidents ended.

     But some time after that, after my children were born, I had a vivid dream about guns and death. Maybe it was the hormones, and after that I wanted nothing to do with guns. Did not want to shoot a gun. And other than Duck Hunt or Wii, that's how it stayed for years.

     Meanwhile, hubby has no problem with guns. He's former military, from a military family, and goes on WWII reenactments. He especially enjoys guns from the WWII era. Over the years he had convinced me to at least keep a gun close by if he went out of town. When he asked if I wanted to take the CHL class with him, I thought it might be good to have some idea about what I would do if I ever thought of pulling that gun out of the box.

     I am pleased to announce that due to the excellent information in class, I will NOT be getting a CHL at this time. This is not due to a failure on my part nor on the part of Mr. Bond. Both of us performed admirably. But I learned that a CHL is a serious matter, not to be sought for the heck of it. As Mr. Bond put it, CHL holders are held to a higher standard of gun owners. This license actually is noted on your record and law enforcement is aware of it if you are stopped. With Texas laws, I can legally have my little gun for my protection in my home with no need for a CHL. I really never had any plans to take one with me anywhere else.

     I am a teacher and live in a world of children. I would not be able to have one at work. My neighborhood is full of my students. I run around with teachers and moms. At this time, I don't have an overwhelming reason to be armed while going to Sprouts or Mardel's.

     However, times do change. I reserve the right to be so armed if I see the need, and I appreciate the knowledge I gained in the CHL class. I won't hesitate to visit Mr. Bond again if circumstances warrant. I also plan to go on more dates with my husband which involve a gun range.

     For the record, I passed both parts of the qualifications, test and range. That paper doll guy did not survive my Rambo-ness. For your protection, you might want to call before coming to visit me after dark.

This Chick Don't Tweet

     I'm very saddened to report that I am not the tech diva so many of my co-workers think I am. I love playing with tech tools and love sharing them with my students and friends. I love my perceived ability to find uses for most tech advances along with my problem-solving abilities which I have used in fitting the tools to the tasks. But methinks I have met my match...Twitter.

     I've had a Twitter account for more than two years. I signed up to keep track of some educator awards; you know, just in case I was getting a visit from the prize patrol. Then, I followed a fast food place to see if I could win a soda. After that, I added my daughter and several educator related threads I was already following on Facebook. But other than that, my feed was limited to just a few occasional tweets when some free giveaway was calling my name. I rarely checked on it. Pretty much everyone and everything I followed I also saw on FB. Once in awhile, at conferences, I would take in a Twitter class in an effort to be less of a twit, but still was unable to wrap my mind around a single large question...WHY?

     Then, summer came and I thought I would push my mind into the tweety bird. In just the past two weeks I have taken two classes about Twitter. I know how to find people and chats to follow. I know about all kinds of apps for all my devices to help me better organize the people and chats. But I still just can't figure out why I need to chase the chats.

     It may have something to do with the fact that I teach elementary school and even if my students had a twitter account of their own (which they are not supposed to have) I would not be virtual friends with them. It may have something to do with already being exposed to more threads than I can tie on Facebook and the many, many blogs and articles I read each week. It may have something to do with being too verbose for a mere 140 characters. It could be that I just don't care what others are doing or saying 24/7 (Sorry Brittney, Kim, and Charlie). It could just be that I'm too old. Naw, it can't be that.

     But whatever it is, it simply comes down to not being able to find a need to tweet. I can play with it and will probably continue to do so, but I'm taking the pressure off myself to forcibly make a space in my life for the tiny tweets. If it works out one day I'll be ready. But until then, I will be content to bore my friends with my FB posts and enlighten anyone in the world with this blog. That should be enough- cheep, cheep.

One Size Never Fits Right

     I was given an opportunity to attend a very good edtech conference this week, the Southwest Building Learning Communities conference by Alan November's group. One of my friends was unable to attend all three days and allowed me to take her place on the final day. (Thank you Kathryn!)  I had heard of the conference before but it's expensive so I didn't even ask.  I'm very glad I went! 

     The keynote session by Mr. November was not anything novel, but certainly reinforced the beliefs I have in engagement, relevance, and how sad it is when gifted students have to cobble together their own educations. The conference assistants were young people who obviously had  far more knowledge into tech than I do. One young man talked about his efforts in creating an iphone app in order to prove mastery in a chemistry class rather than take two pencil and paper tests. I smiled all the way through his talk, until he said he worked on it, with and without the teacher, pretty much on his own time. So, he learned what he needed for his app, which was everything from the unit being taught, developed and created an instructional tool that would help his peers also learn the material, but had to continue on with regular classroom instruction? What?!?  

     I know the teacher was doing the best he could in addressing the needs of all of his students including this one, but how sad is it that there's nothing more tailored for students achieving above the "normal" expectations?  It's wonderful the teacher was able to see how much more this young man could do and find a way to encourage his learning. But I wonder if that teacher had to find the way, by himself, to help outside the parameters of normal learning curves. And that is where this conference was pointing...teachers helping teachers. 

     The student also mentioned that he did not always attend a school which fostered his learning through the use of tech. He was very pleased this one did have the tools he could use to go beyond the norm.  And that's the other place the conference went...using the tools available to expand learning environments. Where would this wonderful young person been without them? Would he have tuned out school?  Where would he be if his school had the tools but no teachers willing to take the risk to use them? Not a pretty thought. 

     I hear stories like this young man's quite a lot. The tales are inspiring and hopeful. But I admit that I'm beginning to become a little bitter, too. Why, after all these years, are these recollections so unusual? Why aren't they normal? When is the world of education going to rouse from its apathy and realize that one size does not fit all? It's imperative that we stop squandering the education of our students...ALL our students.  Do we want everyone meeting minimum skill levels? Or do we want each and every child to become the very best they can be- lifelong learners, problem solvers, critical thinkers, creative souls? 

     Yes, Mr. November, I had to memorize the states and capitals. No, I don't know why, nor can I still do it. I bet I can find the info when I need it. Austin, right? I NEEDED to know that.

Time and 5th Graders Wait For No One

     The end of yet another school year is here. For many weeks my teacher friends and I have counted down, dreamed of summer, and packed away school tools and rules. And now it's here. As usual, I'm not really ready. 

     I tell myself it's the paperwork and packing up that makes me so anxious. But really, it's watching the kids moving on. You see, I'm one of those odd, lucky teachers who gets to watch her students grow up over many years. Some of these guys I've had since kindergarten. Now they're taller than I am. 

     They have not been perfect children. I don't know why I will miss them so much. They have taxed my patience, talked non-stop, and spent more time working to get out of work than they have working. 

They have also magically become their own persons. They don't want to wait for me to tell them anything. They want to tell me what they are thinking about. And they all want to tell me at the same time. They have some of the most creative thoughts and dreams I have ever heard. At least this year. 

     Because yes, there have been so many more like them who have come and moved on. They too outgrew my height, my books, and my ideas. And this is why I can push them out the door. 

     It's because I still get to see my former students sometimes that I can see they kept on growing without me. I did my part and got them to the end of childhood. There are more teachers out there just like me who will take them farther than I ever could. I get to be where they started their learning. I sometimes envy those who will see who these kids become. But I belong here  to help get these children started down the path to individuality. No, I can't go to middle school with them. Everyone is taller than I am there.

     Besides, there are more children still to come. I'll stay here where I never have to grow, or have to grow up. Good luck to my wonderful students. I'll miss you.

To All the Moms I've Loved Before

     Since today is Mother's Day I have been thinking about all of the wonderful, strong women I have had in my life. People say you don't appreciate what you have until you don't, and I agree. I've been very lucky. I actually knew and remember not one, but three great-grandmothers. I suppose I always believed the women in my family would live forever. But the generations behind me are winding down, and the future belongs to my children and (hopefully, eventually?) grandchildren. But what examples those children have and must live up to.

     I still think of the family reunions at the old farm in Western Kentucky. We would go way back in the boonies to see Great-Grandma and Grandpa Franklin and all the rest of the clan. My sister and I were not too fond of going. There never seemed to be much of anything to do. It never entered our minds how much there was to do BEFORE we got there. All the ladies of that generation cooked and cleaned for days just to welcome us. We ate food grown right there on that farm, not  ordered and picked up from Honeybaked Ham. Funny, it was too expensive for my family to do things like that, but now I understand how much better the home cooking really was.

     There were roses around the farmhouse and fireflies in the evenings. But when you're 10, you just don't care about those things. You have no idea how much Great-Grandmas harvest, cook, and clean just to have a chance to pinch your cheeks.

      Now, we did enjoy Great Aunt Lee who lived next door to her parents. Another strong woman, she had a Lincoln collection we loved to hear all about when we were little. When we were older, she began to share her genealogy hobby. Yes, she was two generations behind me, but she always knew how to speak my language.

     On my grandmother's side of the family there was Great-Grandma Page. She was really a hoot. She never really grew up, just grew older. I can remember on one visit, she wrapped her head in a towel and became a gypsy fortune teller, telling stories to all the kids in the neighborhood. She was the perfect lady for the "I shall Wear Purple" poem, and is probably the  warped member of the family where my sense of humor was cultured.

Great-Grandma Page (front), Grandma Franklin, Daddy, and me  

 My other great-grandmother still alive while I was a child was Grandma Loften. My sister and I really didn't want to go there when we were little. It was an old house, complete with an outhouse, and smelled like tobacco.  I really regret not talking with her more, finding out what she remembered from her childhood. But that just wasn't important when you are living your own childhood. She gave my dad an old muzzle-loader once. Said it was used for Indian fighting or something. He cleaned that gun with great care and prepared to take it out and fire it. He only shot it once. Kicked him back so hard he landed on his rear.

     Her daughter was my Grandmother Ritchie. I adored Grandma. She always gave me a dollar and let me drink coffee (with lots of milk and sugar). She and her best friend Wanda used to babysit me sometimes. That's how I learned to play Hearts - sometimes they needed a 4th player. Both of them were married to river boat captains and were alone every other month. Legend has it that on babysitting nights they would take me with them to honky-tonks and let me dance on the tables. That ended one Sunday morning when I boogied down the church aisle in apparent imitation of the night before.

     But she also taught me to quilt and embroider. I think my creative side came from her. As she aged, sometimes it was hard to remember how she was when I was small. I had spent so much time with her for so long but began to dread going to see her in the nursing home. I know now that was selfish of me. Trying to keep my memories intact, I robbed both of us from making new ones.

     My dad's mom was Grandma Franklin. She was married to a railroad man and had five children, four of whom lived to adulthood. She inherited the family dinners and reunions after the generation before her all passed. It seemed like she could do anything. She could cook, sew, garden, and worked in a department store. When I was little, I think I annoyed Grandma. We'd go to her house and I would go to a quiet room and read. I think she thought I was odd. (Maybe she should have seen my moves in the honky-tonks.) As I got older, I liked going out there. My Aunt Kat and Aunt Sis were there and they were just a couple of  years older than I was. Mom didn't like to leave me out there to be babysat. She never knew what Grandma and my aunts would do. One time they cut and permed my hair. I was like a big doll for them, but at least it kept me out of the bars.

     Grandma thought we were oblivious to the fact that she drank a little wine now and then. It was pretty funny when we would stumble on her stash. Once it was in the trash can in the formal living room (which, of course, was never used except on a holiday) and when daddy pushed the wrapping paper down, he hit paydirt, pulling up a bottle of Mogan David. Another time, daddy was working on her washer, pulled it out from the wall, and guess what was sitting under the cold water pipe? Yep, a nip of the grape.

     I was also privileged to be daughter-in-law to an awesome woman, Joanne Effler, otherwise known as Momis. She was an Army wife who raised four sons. She kept hearth and home together during some very lean years but never lost her sense of humor or her love for her boys. I wish I was more like her, she never spoke ill of anyone. But she could tell some truthful stories on her kids. Like when they would tie up babysitters so they could go out and play. Or like when they washed and dried the cat. In the washer and dryer. That one made the papers. I don't think the cat made it long enough to read it though.

     And that brings us to my own mother, a smart, sassy female and the last of my heritage still with me. She married young and promptly became a Navy wife, trying to make ends meet while living far from home. She's not afraid of much, just airplanes and traffic. I get the airplane part: it has to do with a monster storm while she was on her way to join my dad on base in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. I still am not sure about why traffic gives her the willies. But that woman will drive five miles out of her way to avoid certain streets at rush hour. And that's just in small town Paducah, Kentucky. She won't even come here to Texas anymore because of the traffic. I've always thought the perfect Mother's Day gift for her would be a brake pedal in the floor of the passenger seat of the car. She's got the move down already.

Dad and Mom

     She can cook like you wouldn't believe. She took a cake decorating class when I was five or six, and I can remember hanging close, hoping she would mess up her icing roses so I could eat them. She's still the one everyone calls when they want desserts. I've lost count of how many Blue Ribbons she's won at the fair. Even the newspaper just assumes that mom will win each year, and announced her ribbons last year as usual. Only problem is, she didn't enter. Doesn't matter, she would have won if she had entered so just go on and give them to her.

     My most prevalent memories of mom are of her sitting in a chair, on the phone, with a gold loafer hanging from her big toe, shaking it for all she was worth. That phone would ring starting around six am, no alarm clock needed.

     Notice that nowhere in this trip down memory lane did I mention that these women held any high paying jobs, or had college degrees, or were known outside their circle of family and friends. They didn't and weren't. They were all good God-loving Southern women who took care of their loved ones and did the best they could. They formed the base for my life and no amount of fame or fortune could have raised me better. Each generation pushed the next one up and along, sacrificing so the young'uns would have a better life. Through them I learned everything I needed to know, and got pushed along to learn a little more. My sister and I live pretty great lives, but we won't cease to nudge our little chicks even further.

     I see the next generation rolling their eyes at us, cutting our apron strings, and flying away. I hope one day they too look back at who came before, and stop to appreciate us before we're gone for good.

     Happy Mother's Day to all the Mom's I've loved before.

     

Nibbling the Apple

    I have given up and given in. I am now the proud owner of an ipad2. I even took a day off from school to be home when it was delivered. And I don't take days off easily so you can tell it was quite an event.

     As usual when I over-plan something, things went awry. Scheduled for a Thursday delivery (remember that day off?), the pad came on Wednesday. With a little scrambling my darling daughter was there to accept the handoff. But I still stayed home the next day to meet my new little friend.

    Getting set up was not too hard since I have had an iphone for some time. Get it on the network, set up mail, and GO! I figured I would sync everything and see what turned up. The first thing I noticed was that the phone apps do go to the pad, but start out small, centered in the pad screen the same size as the phone screen. There is a 2x button to the bottom of the pad and you can expand the app to fit the larger screen. But it is a fuzzy resolution when you do. Most of the time this won't bother me. I watched a 17 year old behemoth TV in the bedroom until last week when it died. I thought the DirectTV guide screen was supposed to be soft focus. What a surprise on the new TV!

     Then began the process of filtering what I wanted to keep on the pad vs the phone, along with sorting and grouping into files. I highly suggest that if you haven't filed your apps on your iphone or ipad you do it quickly. It's very simple: hold your finger on an app until all of them wiggle. Then drag to move one type of app, such as a game, over the top of another game. They will blend together into a file and suggest a name for the file based on the two apps. You can, of course, give the file your own custom name. You can also drag from screen to screen. For those of you as OCD as I am, you can even alphabetize your files. Once finished, you can easily locate even the most obscure apps, especially if you have a file marked "Obscure Apps."

     After filing, I started looking through itunes to download some must haves and to upgrade some of my old phone favs. I spent most of my bucks on Pages, the mac word processing app. At $10 it was a bit pricy, but I know I will want to do some real work occasionally. It's also easy to use. Even printing was a dream. Because I have a wireless printer on my network the pad automatically found it and printed happily away.

     Next up was Garage Band. My daughter, an existing Mac snob, tsked me and said it wasn't that great. But I think it's really cool to be able to play virtual instruments since I can't play any real ones. Air Guitar or Air Drums just won't cut it anymore. And I've almost figured out Heart and Soul!
     I also felt the need to get the newer ipad apps to replace some of the iphone ones. Those Angry Birds just look soooo much angrier in HD. Same with Yoga. Well, actually, they looked more peaceful.

     Then I went off grid. One of my big issues (along with the rest of the non-Apple world) is that the istuff doesn't do flash. No facebook games! But there are some apps which allow a parallel version to run. The ones I hear most about are Skyfire and Cloud Browse. But both are pay as you go and can get pricy. I had also heard about iSwifter and decided to give it a shot. It is free, and although it asks for a purchase, for now at least, you can keep it free if you choose.  There is a good video on it at : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yVIy6XeapkM.



It does work, but just as the video says, it's clunky. I won't be playing any of my timed FB games on it, but it works just great for things like slots. Another plus: Hulu movies look great on it. No problems at all.

     BFF Patti, an old hand on the ipad, also weighed in on apps for me. She had already been the final tipping point for my joining Words with Friends earlier that morning, challenging me to a game at 5:45 AM. Several friends had tried to get me interested but I had declined. But that early in the morning when the caffeine had not kicked in I foolishly gave in. Now I face a number of challengers wanting to take me down. And it's only been ten hours! Too much pressure!

     She also showed me iBooks, Scramble, and iFarkle. I showed her Mummy's Treasure and Cat Physics. You'd think we had better things to do, huh? But summer's coming. And teachers will have a life once more. There'll be time for a much bigger bite from that apple.