The Gaming Is Afoot!

     Although I will occasionally indulge myself in a video game on my PlayStation 4, I have never considered myself to be a "gamer". This is probably because I come from a different time - when "men were men" and dinosaurs roamed downtown Hillsborough. I do not take a day off work to play the just released version of anything, and I do not hang out at the local GameStop (though the Burger King across the street makes a great Whopper).
     In the past few months, however, I completed an online educational technology graduate course that utilizes a website called 3D GameLab. Rather than completing a packet of assignments, sending it in to be "blessed" or whatever the institution does, and receiving a certificate in the mail, passing this course requires the completion of a multitude of "quests" (I have completed 45 to date). Each quest could involve writing, viewing and evaluating web content, looking at videos, communicating and working with classmates via social media, , or any other of a number of activities. The work that you turn in is graded, feedback is provided, and points are tallied. To pass (i.e. to "win") hinges on reaching a certain number of points by the end of the semester - in my case 4500. Quests are assigned different point values based on their complexity. To provide further encouragement and soothing of the ego, you can earn awards and "badges" from your instructor. I must confess that I had not earned a badge since the one I got for archery back in junior high school summer camp - a badge that was ripped from my grasp afterwards when one of my arrows missed the target and darn near killed a counselor. Luckily it was a Christian camp and my salvation was not rescinded, though I am sure my counselor's was.
     I am certainly not alone in the "lab" of learning through gaming. K-12 schools across the country are using "gaming" in some form or another to attract the PlayStation generation, and companies are springing up all the time to fill the demand. Institutes and workshops are offered to train teachers in using the gaming concept in their face-to-face and online classes. I attended a technology conference in New Orleans, just a beer can's throw from Bourbon Street, back in November that included several sessions on the subject.
     Whether or not a teacher engages in online teaching and learning, the study of how educational technology is being used in the classroom is important. This course required me to take a fresh look at some of the basic principles of my university teaching while also applying what I learned to the training of future K-12 teachers in my program. Tools for communication, interaction, and collaboration - virtual or not - are vital for building learning communities. Computer applications exist that can be of great assistance in achieving what many teachers list as some of their most difficult challenges - personalizing learning, assessment, and the teaching of critical thinking skills.  One lesson required me to use some common objects for completing a task that they are not normally used for. Further, I had to video the disaster and post it to YouTube. I made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich wielding a whisk, a pair of tongs, and a steak knife. While the video has yet to go viral, I did succeed in assembling the sandwich (and messing up the kitchen counter). I also succeeded in scaring the crap out of the dog, who happened to wander into the kitchen and see his master brandishing a knife dripping in red jelly. The point of the activity was to show how flexible thinking is important to the teaching of concepts. We must "play with ideas", put them together in unique ways, in order to build cognitive constructs. Other quests introduced me to applications for creating and annotating videos and other media, copyright and fair use laws, establishing personal learning networks, and frameworks for integrating technology in a purposeful way. Simply parking a computer in the back corner of a classroom or providing a computer lab is not enough unless teachers have been trained in utilizing that technology. Further, the basic tenets of a course such as the one I took should hold true even if the power goes out and the computers go blank. When it comes to curriculum and pedagogy, there are no "stand alones". It all must fit together or it falls apart.
     As of this writing I have not had the opportunity during a busy semester to spend the time needed "playing with" the tools that I took out of this GameLab class. That is, however, the way learning should be. It is left for me to devote even more attention to discovering the possibilities that this new technology holds and specific ways that it can be applied to my personal and professional learning. You don't download good teaching or learning, you scatter the parts on the floor like Legos and put them together in models that fit within the unique architecture of your own individual mind. I will never consider education to be a "game", but I would like to believe that my teaching replicates at least some of the characteristics of a good one - creative thinking, the satisfaction that comes with the achieving of goals, the joy of collaborating with others, and just plain fun.

Hannah, Steve, and Me

     In the past few days, during the Thanksgiving holiday, I had the chance to reflect upon the many ways I am most fortunate. This is not intuitive since, rather than counting my blessings, I tend to dwell on my disasters. Still, one particularly rich source of joy in my life has multiple implications for learning as well.
     My eight year-old goddaughter, Hannah, spends a great deal of time with me and my wife. Though I will probably be dismissed as being "partial" (which I am) in saying this, I truly believe that she is one of the most intelligent and creative souls I have ever encountered. Everything, everything, is potential lumber in the rich constructs of her imagination. Like many children her age, she has more technological knowledge and ability than I will probably ever have - a skill set that she uses on multiple platforms and devices. Aging knees and a brittle back make it more difficult for me to climb trees with her and do other things that she enjoys in the "real world", so I have tried to find other fields of play that we could romp in together. Over the past few months one of those outlets has come to be the game Minecraft, which we explore using my Playstation 4, IPad, and even Android phone.
     It is not unusual for me to be late for the party and, apparently, many others recognized the educational value of this wickedly absorbing game long before I did. In fact, I have seen a number of articles about how Minecraft  is being utilized in classrooms across the country. The game's makers have cashed in on the mania with a plethora of books, toys, posters, and other marketing. Since the game basically consists of building "worlds" using blocks and other very primitive, simplistic shapes, it seems to me not unlike the Legos and Lincoln Logs I spent so much time playing with as a child. These, of course, are "virtual" bits and bots that flow in electrical currents that can only be accessed with some sort of device, still the similarities were enough to at least get me to experiment with it. Hannah was delighted that her "Uncle David" was taking an interest in something she so loved.
     For the uninitiated, Minecraft involves creating a "world" in which you can move around freely, build things, and fight all manner of other souls. You can choose "survival" mode in which you must accumulate basic supplies and building materials while escaping "zombies" and other dangerous creatures (much like what I did as a school principal), or you can defer to "creative" mode, which gives you the same exploration and building experiences without having to constantly flee for your life. You can enter another person's "world" with their permission and even move about their world with them. Apparently the name of the default character is "Steve" - something that bothers me for some reason that I cannot pinpoint. The psychological damage that could be done to an impressionable eight year-old child by allowing her into my twisted "world", in any form, will not be discussed here. So far, at least, the ill effects have not surfaced and, instead, we have had a lot of fun building our "world" together.

    
     Hannah delights in watching me fumble about, destroy things, and fall from various heights in this virtual world as I do in real life. Still, moving beyond my wounded male ego, I have decided that the learning possibilities in this game abound in areas such as:
1. Constructivist learning - Minecraft involves putting things together, tearing them apart, and using them in ways that might not have been intended. This is what we should be doing with concepts in our classrooms. For example, there are no pre-packaged chairs or couches to sit on in this world. So, you have to use other things such as "stairs" to build them. Need a diving board for the family "pool"? No problem. A few squares of "carpet" connected end-to-end work just fine and even add a bit of color. Because the objects can be turned and otherwise manipulated in many ways, the constructs are almost limitless. The creative and analytic skills that are required have obvious crossover implications for the classroom.
2. Collaboration - Hannah and I build together, and we discuss various strategies to accomplish our goals. While in Minecraft, as in real-life, I often defer to the judgment of my persuasive companion, the point is that communication is fostered and usually leads to a much more attractive and functional "world" than we could have constructed individually. Using dual controllers when on my Playstation, we build, and sometimes rebuild, in real-time. Such team work is an example of collaborative learning at its best, and it takes place in an environment that is much richer than could typically be accomplished in the classroom.
3. Pacing - Because Hannah and I can save our "world" and return to the same point whenever we like, we are not bound by customary time constraints found in the normal classroom. If I am not progressing at a fast enough rate, which is sometimes the case, Hannah can create her own "world" and move at her own pace. Another possibility that she made use of recently was to "move out" of the house we built together in our world, relocate to another locality across the "plain", and start work on her own mansion. I must admit that, at first, I was a bit hurt - I had not been abandoned in such a manner since my roommate suddenly moved out during my freshmen year of college - but I soon felt proud that my little buddy was gaining the confidence to construct her own world. That is as it should be, though I made her promise to come "visit" our original "home place" often.
     As we continue to play with our virtual blocks, I am sure that the teacher in me will find even more educational connections. In a regular classroom there would have to be devices for every student and some way for the teacher to "move about the worlds", but that seems to be a minor problem and it has probably already been solved. As with the other educational games that are out there, a method would have to be found that could tether learning to the standardized testing constraints that enslave our classrooms. Given the enormous amount of research and writing being done in educational gaming, I suspect that this, too, will be surmounted soon if it has not already.
     For now, though, it is enough to romp the virtual landscape with Hannah and Steve. I may never be able to quantify our educational achievements, but the gains in other more valuable respects are immeasurable.

"Making It Happen" in the Online Classroom

     The benefits of project-based learning have been well-documented and they certainly resonate with teachers who favor the constructivist philosophy of teaching and learning. Reformer Dale Dougherty has focused renewed attention on the concept with his "Maker Movement" (complete with "Maker Faires"), but the concept has been around for quite some time and is anchored securely in the writing of educational theorists such as John Dewey. The approach emphasizes that concepts only become "knowledge" when they are "used" in real-life applications. Less famously, but perhaps just as convincingly, the psychologist D.W. Winnecott delved extensively into the necessity of "play" in Playing with Reality and other writings.
     Convincing teachers and administrators to devote precious learning time to the principles of the Maker Movement continue to prove difficult in an educational structure that is so driven by high stakes testing. While, according to Dougherty, "makers" are "in control", students and teachers are, unfortunately, often not. Curriculum and teaching are held hostage as long as what is taught must be demonstrable using a number two pencil and a Scantron sheet. Tinkering in the sense that Dougherty talks about may well be fun and intrinsic to deep learning, but my Dad's Erector set will have an awfully hard time carving out a place in the educational landscape we find ourselves in. Though applications such as Minecraft have been integrated by some tech savvy and brave teachers into the curriculum, the "Maker Movement" will continue to compete with the "Mimic Movement" and probably lose badly in the short term.
     While all of this may seem pessimistic, I hold out hope that the "Maker Movement" will gain a following. Sometimes a recasting of familiar concepts can be enough in today's world where packaging is so essential to popularity. Technology in the classroom offers myriad possibilities and a new playground for the kind of strategies that the "Maker Movement" envisions. As an online teacher in a Master of Arts in Teaching program, I encourage my young educators to create ways for students to construct learning both in and outside of the classroom. Going in this direction requires the kind of personalized pedagogy that incorporates differentiation, personalization, and individualization. It also entails a great deal of time and energy in implementation and monitoring. At a time when time and resources are both precious commodities, it is not necessarily an easy sell - particularly as teachers navigate the first perilous years in their profession. The "teach smarter not harder" mantra may well be true and have a certain ring to it, but the realities of the classroom present a formidable obstacle to buying into the principal upfront.
     Still, as someone who sees my task as being a "maker", in a sense, of future teachers, I remain committed to a constructivist vision for my program and individual teaching. I remember the many hours I spent as a child playing with Legos and Lincoln Logs. If I can communicate the same joy in playing with ideas, then I will have made a strong case for the core beliefs of the "Maker Movement".

Cooking with TPACK

     As part of a class I am taking, I was assigned to create a video of myself making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich using tools that were selected by someone else beforehand and without knowledge of the assignment. The task is designed to be a metaphor for the Technological Pedagogical Content Knowledge (TPACK) approach to educational technology which advocates using applications to construct teaching and learning in creative ways. The tools I used were a whisk, a steak knife, and a can opener.

     I filmed this epic at a time when my wife was out of the house (she was at church praying for my soul). Normally I am not allowed to cook in our kitchen, the reason probably having something to do with the time I put a pizza into the oven without taking the cardboard off the bottom and darn near burned the house down. As the film will prove, I was able to complete this task with a minimal amount of mess and without any charred evidence to give me away - though I did quickly wash the tools after the filming "wrapped" because I did not want to explain to my wife how they became caked in peanut butter and jelly.

     I have to admit that I do not like these kinds of assignments, and I spared my faculty and staff from them during the years I was a principal. They are too much like the "icebreakers" I dread at staff development sessions and conferences. I "get" the metaphor that was intended and do not need to play in peanut butter for it to "stick". Still, I understand that there are those for whom this kind of "play" is helpful. It is probably what my professor and friend, Glen Hudak, had in mind when he assigned D.W. Winnecott's Playing and Reality during my graduate studies - an arduous reading that I have only recently forgiven him for.

     Integrating technology in a way that supports rather than drives teaching is at the heart of TPACK, and in this activity, as with TPACK, I had an objective and used my crude technology in a flexible way to achieve my ends. In this case, however, the tools were to be chosen in advance by someone else who did not know what they would be used for. As a metaphor for TPACK the task breaks down somewhat because teachers normally choose the technology they will use (albeit from what is available) themselves with the objective in mind. However, it is true that we must think about the appropriateness and usefulness of software and hardware more creatively, and a variety of tools will be necessary in our "toolkit" to me the challenges of constructivism in the classroom.

     As of this writing, the video is loading on YouTube and the world waits anxiously for its premiere. Why it says that another 3872 minutes will be needed to complete the job is a bit baffling, but I guess the censors at YouTube are pouring over the film frame-by-frame to make sure that it contains nothing that violates any laws. There are surely some crimes against taste, and once it goes viral and my wife sees it, I may well be writing my next blog from beneath a bridge overpass. Still, when it is ready for the screen, I will update this blog and provide the link. Until then, I would suggest some Julia Child reruns.

Digital vs. Traditional Citizenship

It is often said that the borders between us are dissolving quickly in the 21st century. "Something there is that doesn't love a wall," Robert Frost wrote, "that wants it down". As the lines between international, national, and local communities continue to blur, so do the implications for what it has meant in the past to live peacefully within those borders. As we consider the moral and ethical dimensions of teaching and learning, what it means to be a "citizen" in this technological age will demand renewed consideration.




Public education has been invested with the responsibility of molding the American citizenry since the days of the Common School Movement. Based in the Judeo-Christian belief that man is born with an evil nature and must be closely guarded, the schools have been tasked with teaching responsibility, honesty, civil obedience, and, in more recent years, tolerance. These ideals have been shaped to fit the contours of a society in which interactions take place in physical rather than cyber space. The term "citizenship", as with so many other words in the basic vocabulary of democracy, is poised to be stretched and twisted now as we apply them to contexts that the architects of our country never dreamed of.





Being a digital citizen now incorporates staying perpetually informed, in touch, in tune, and intertwined with the global village that we never completely see and only, as yet, barely understand. Because this digital domain springs from the human genome, it is a fair assumption that the cyber world will be subject to the same human frailties as its physical counterpart, and, thus, notions of what constitutes "citizenship" will continue to be debated and imperfectly instituted. Whatever principles of citizenship end up carrying the day, it will be teachers who shoulder the primary responsibility of assimilating their young charges according to those requirements.






Perhaps it is because I have too much faith in the durability of Locke, Jefferson, Webster, and Mann's democratic ideals, but I suspect that, when Apple has rolled out its last computer and the final vestiges of our Internet institutions have crumbled , the definition of what it means to be a citizen will have changed very little. For there will always be walls in human neighborhoods - born of human ignorance, insecurity, and fear.

"Before I built a wall I'd ask to know," Frost cautioned, "what I was walling in or walling out."

Perhaps the answer to that question lies somewhere at the heart of what it means to be human.

On Twitting, Twatting, Googling, and Proust

     The rapid exodus of teachers from the classroom continues to befuddle some in the political realms. To those of us who are teachers, and work with them continually, the causes are much less mysterious. Building a "personal learning network" addresses two of the primary reasons why we are losing young educators (Spoiler alert: The reason is not money).

      In exit interviews I have read and in my own experience, beginning teachers often feel especially isolated. This is particularly true in the middle and high schools which tend to be more department driven and do not, as a general rule, foster the teamwork that is more associated with elementary education. I remember that, as a high school English teacher for many years, I would often go for a week or more without having any meaningful communication with those in my own department (except through the wall of adjoining bathroom stalls - which was always awkward). Of course, I would "bump into" some of them during cafeteria or bus duty, or perhaps exchange a cursory greeting at the faculty mailboxes, but there was certainly very little in the way of building relationships. I used to explain it away by saying that we did not "have the time", but I am less convinced of that now. I have come believe that at the heart of the problem is a lack of confidence among teachers that they have anything meaningful to convey on a professional level. Educators have been so beaten down over the years by legislators, policymakers, administrators, and the public in general, that a good deal of their confidence has been eroded. There seems to also be this hidden belief, particularly, again, among young teachers, that to ask for insight or suggestions is a sign of weakness or a lack of knowledge.

      Though some residue of the current application of educational technology to all facets of teaching and learning concern me, there are some tools available that are providing educators with opportunities to connect with others. No longer need teachers be limited to those in their own building for possible avenues of professional exchange. Online programs now, literally, allow us to effect education across the globe and, in turn, be effected. Many of these applications are not necessarily new, but their wider use in education as a conduit for personal learning and professional development is becoming much more common.

      One example of this is Twitter. I recently began using a Twitter account for the first time (Doc @longstreetlee). Admitting this probably draws much the same reaction from a more tech savvy generation as announcing that I just began using indoor plumbing or just discovered the wonders of the light bulb. In the past I suppose I resisted "twitting" or "twatting" - whatever the correct term is. I have always been something of a loner anyway, and the chance to "twit" with the likes of Brittany Spears or Paris Hilton has been one that I have gladly bypassed. I certainly did not see the possibilities of Twitter as part of a professional learning network. Now I have participated in "Twitter Chats", hooked up with other educational twits, and found that I am not alone - though I sometimes again long to be. Twitter allows me to type in areas that especially interest me, and it seems that the Twitter community never rests. At any time - 24 hours a day - I can soothe my insomnia through Twitter rather than wasting my time reading Proust or watching "Inspector Morse" reruns on Netflix. The best part is that I am gaining new ideas and materials for use in my online university classroom, dwelling not in remembrances of things past, but building things to come.

      Another companion in my entry into the 21st century is Google+ and its network of circles and communities. I was surprised at how many of my friends and colleagues had already signed up, created groups, and networked across the world. I was a bit hurt that none of them had invited me, but then, if you know me, that is certainly understandable and brings about memories of an episode of the old "Andy Griffith Show" where the church choir continually relocates for practice every week to avoid Barney. Even for a neophyte like me, the mechanisms for interacting in the Google world, as in Twitter, are fairly easy. I even gave birth to my own Google+ community - "Foundations of Education" (https://plus.google.com/u/0/communities/115213663238780796303). As of this writing, no one has "joined" my community. I am sure that this has more to do with me personally than any waning interest in foundations of education.

      Arriving just in time to help me keep all my new friends, circles, communities, followers, etc. organized is Tweetdeck. This ingenius program allows me to create a kind of "dashboard" that keeps my most referenced connections in full view. Now, instead of only seeing the "check engine" light in my car, I can see the latest tweets, twats, and postings from across my professional world. Gauges become "columns" that update in real time and provide easy response routes.

      The possible downside to this technological nirvana is the addition of yet another entry in my "to do" list and the resultant guilt when I fail to twit, twat, Google, or chat daily. While I might be impressed that my friend's latest blog has racked up a zillion responses from Topeka to Tokyo, I still have to wonder: If she can find the time to do it, why can't I? Am I less of a professional? Less of a teacher? Am I shirking my "responsibility" to contribute to the "great conversation"? It's enough to drive one to Brahms or brandy.

      Still, the possibilities are endless, and there is renewed hope that the loneliness and isolation that afflicts so many in the teaching profession can be assuaged. Great ideas are out there, and they are being forwarded by everyday educators in classrooms and learning communities that are not that different from mine. Still, as Proust said, "we feel in one world, we think and name in another. Between the two we can set up a system of references, but we cannot fill in the gap" (Swann's Way).

      Perhaps there is an application for that. I think I will go Google it.

TPACK

            TPACK (Technological Pedagogical Content Knowledge) is an approach to teaching and learning that utilizes the interplay among three types of knowledge. The concept purports to extend the basic tenets of Lee Shulman’s model of pedagogical content knowledge.

            Technology is often an “add-on” rather than a seamless component of instruction. My experience as a teacher and principal has convinced me that this is most often due to a lack of training for teachers in educational technology and its possibilities for best practice. School systems typically lag behind in technology due to budgetary restrictions and the rapid implementation of new computer hardware and software. Yet, even in schools where cutting edge technology is available, there can be a philosophical lag as teachers struggle to determine exactly how it will meld with their individual beliefs about teaching and learning. TPACK attempts to help in that effort by redefining technology as a helper rather than a hammer.

             TPACK is a dynamic paradigm for evaluating the effectiveness of technology in the classroom that differs significantly from other static representations. TPACK acknowledges that classroom instruction is constantly in flux due to individual differences in teachers, schools, student demographics, ability levels, cultural backgrounds, etc. The challenge is to discern how technology relates specifically to curriculum and pedagogy and the degree to which it weaves the three together into a continuum.

            TPACK does not offer any kind of toolkit for how to specifically use technology in the classroom but rather a lens for evaluating how balanced the teacher’s approach is. The usefulness for me centers on the integration of technology into the inner sanctums of content knowledge and pedagogical knowledge – rather than being an extension of one or the other (or both). I have grappled most with the content knowledge sphere. TPACK supporters contend that technology can enhance or restrict the teaching of content knowledge, and that the reverse can also be the case. I can see their point, but it will take time and experience to see the equality that the model seems to suggests.

          Even though my reading of TPACK indicates that it is a fluid model, I have always been skeptical of visual representations with equal geometric shapes – especially when they represent the uncertain craft of teaching. Perhaps my concern is more a commentary on me than the TPACK model, but I am interested in testing the theory in my own teaching.

First Year Teacher Struggles With Technology

     During a visit to one of my first-year teachers recently, we discussed the use of technology in her classroom. Her school received a grant to issue Chromebooks to all students in her middle school. The students are responsible for taking them home and bringing them back the next day. We batted around a myriad of possibilities for teaching and learning using this technology, and I followed up with a video that I spotted which spotlights the use of Chromebooks (http://news.yahoo.com/video/sanger-high-seeks-end-digital-005809769.html).
     Just a couple of days ago, she sent me this e-mail:


I wish I could say it was a smooth transition for the students at my school. I like the Chromebooks better than the IPads, purely because it has a keyboard already attached and the Google apps work so well with it. BUT (this is a big one) our students do not have the maturity or the sense of responsibility to handle them correctly. A lot of them feel they are entitled to do whatever they want with the Chromebook we assign to them. My group this year is better than my group last year, and perhaps that has to do with the fee that is now being enforced. Students who misused or broke their Chromebook last year now have to pay a $100 fee to repair/replace their Chromebook. They are not allowed to have one until they do this. It has made it difficult on the teachers because we cannot fully move our classrooms onto Google Classroom, but I have seen some improvement on the treatment and use of chromebooks this year.


     My young colleague expresses a difficulty with the implementation of technology that is a common thread in my reading and interactions with teachers. It is frustrating to plan instruction that incorporates technology only to find that not all the students have that technology available due to immaturity, technical problems, user abuse, etc. I tried to encourage her by pointing out that it was important for her, in the words of Winston Churchill, to "keep buggering on" for two reasons. First, the responsible students who keep up with their technology need to benefit from its possibilities. Also, it is critical for my teacher's personal growth that she continue to develop this vital asset in her professional "toolkit".
     There is much in current professional literature about how technology can and should be used in the K-12 classroom. There is, unfortunately, less about what to do when confronting the challenges that my friend spoke so honestly about.