The Canadian Education Association (CEA) are running a really cool blog series on innovation in public education. CEA President and CEO Ron Canuel asks a thought-provoking and (it seems) controversial question: why do we need innovation in education?
The answers come from a variety of contributors, including Andrew Campbell, Bruce Dixon, and yours truly. I was asked to contribute from the parent perspective, and my thoughts are here. Cue Sir Mix-a-lot. 🙂
Writing the post gave me pause for thought as I struggled to say something nice, but to also get the point across that I am frustrated by the lack of innovation in the Canadian public system. To balance it out – since I’m trying to be all about balance these days (I’m sitting on an exercise ball as I write this. Whoops, I fell. Ok, now I’m back on.) – I wanted to quickly point to some edtech action that points to shiny and bright. And awesome. (more…)
In the tiny mountain town where the SpaceRacers temporarily reside, it’s easy to get things done. It’s easy to get from one end of town to another. It’s easy to buy groceries without waiting in line for 45 minutes. It’s easy to get an appointment at the bank. It’s easy to find a decent, honest mechanic. And it’s easy to make a difference.
We were concerned that our wee SpaceRacer wasn’t getting enough access to technology in school. In fact, she’s getting none. The transition to 21st Century Learning is happening v-e-r-y slooooooowwwwly in most places in Canadian schools, and she’s been unlucky thus far to have teachers who’ve been mostly uninterested, unmotivated, and unaware of the potential for digital tools in the classroom. But before I rant on (because this really riles me up), I’d like to share a sliver of silver lining.
Upon expressing my frustrations to the school principal, we devised a plan to incorporate a little technology into the lives of the digitally deprived students. A weekly one hour session with a new educational technology tool. Project focused, and related to something happening within the school community. And it was as easy as being able to give up an hour of my time (with a few to prep, of course). Within a day or 2 of proposing the idea, the principal had forwarded me a list of 41 keen kiddies. 41! She’d made arrangements for us to meet in the library, in order to use the school’s smartboards and laptops for the activity. No red tape. No cumbersome permission forms: if you’re interested, just come and learn.
Today is the first day of SpaceRace Technology Club, and I am so very excited to facilitate a Bitstrips project with 41 Grade 3 and 4 students. If you haven’t heard of it, Bitstrips is an online comic strip creator. The educational arm of the service, Bitstrips for Schools, is a teaching tool that “engages students using a medium they love – Comics!” It’s 100% web-based, and includes tons of curriculum-connected activities designed by a huge network of educators. It’s fun and social – a great way to get students working collaboratively to share stories using technology. Our topic is “Kindness”, and I can hardly wait to see the madness that ensues.
I’m very excited about today. It’s the start of something really cool – I can just feel it!
It’s a beautiful thing when ideas converge. When connections are made. It makes us believe that we are smart, and that our connective neural pathways are functioning as they should. Classroom teachers have long known this – that connecting ideas promotes learning. Chemistry relates to biology. Shakespeare relates to Atwood relates to Chomsky. Those connective understandings create a holistic internal management of content, but also link issues and concepts that become meaningful when we can relate them to prior learning or lived experience.
Anyway, one of the SpaceRace reading list choices has hit me like a ton of bricks (but in a good way…maybe chocolate bricks?). I’ve just finished Daniel Pink’s Drive: The Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us, which was an experience a bit like being the person in the old Maxell print ads. Every section inspired an emotional reaction. Drive made me confront my past employment choices/situations, make amends, and commit to moving forward to contributing to the world. Pink examines traditional theories of motivation and brilliantly contrasts them with groundbreaking research and analysis in psychology and behavioural economics. Much of this groundbreaking research, it turns out, isn’t new. It’s just that now, the conditions are ripe for examining a new way of thinking about work. Institutions are crumbling. The “sure things” got fired. Organizations and managers encounter the retirement of the baby boomers, and the rise of GenY and the millennials. Our hyper-connected, yet precarious world creates opportunities for collaboration, but also demands collaborators. Artists. Creators.
Traditional work environments/employers have had a hard time dealing with the likes of collaborators, artists, and creators, who eschew carrots and sticks, incentive pay, algorithmic tasks, bureaucratic layers and shitty management in favour of more intrinsically rewarding activities. The proof is in the science. Now business needs to catch up.
The solution? Create work environments that promote Three Elements: autonomy, mastery, and purpose. Reimagine “rewards”, from fair pay to time devoted to projects of passion. Encourage Type 1 behaviour, and intrinsic, deep satisfaction and fulfillment.
Here’s where it gets personal. And what about schools?
The conditions are also ripe for examining a new way of thinking about education, and Pink’s Three Elements apply in an exceptionally convergent way to imagine schools and learning.
Don’t get me started. OK, I started. I happen to know that my kid does approximately 5 photocopied worksheets a day. Endless algorithms. Memorizing vocabulary. Silent reading. She’s touched a computer twice since the school year started, which was almost 7 months ago. Each week she has a spelling test, and scribes sentences she’s had to memorize. Sentences seemingly connected to…nothing. Her progress is reported to me thrice yearly, through a letter grade and a selection of generic comments. The best worksheet she does, and the worst, are photocopied and sent home in a folder the teacher never writes in. She doesn’t love school. Yet she comes home and, with her buddies, turns our second floor into a library, complete with a check out, plot synopses, and clever marketing strategies. She’s 7.
My kid, spending 7 hours a day at school, doesn’t fulfill her daily potential as a collaborator, artist, and creator.
I’ve been keeping a close watch on the research of the McArthur Foundation, and their research on digital learning and participatory culture. The beautiful convergence with Daniel Pink’s Drive lives here – in the educational research that supports and complements the behavioural and psychological theories highlighted in the book.
From the MacArthur Foundation:
“At its simplest, participatory learning refers to young people’s learning that: is intrinsically motivated because it is connected to their interests and passions; is inherently social in nature because it involves interacting, providing feedback, and sharing with others; and typically occurs during tangible, creative activities, that are open and discovery-based, involve tinkering and play and are not highly prescriptive.
Participatory learning is often facilitated by digital media because they significantly lower the barriers to production and distribution, invite social engagement and interaction, promote the possibility of contribution, and challenge traditional notions of authority and expertise.”
Sound familiar? Familiar enough to light a fire under your bum? This is what’s keeping me up at night, long past the thoroughly enjoyable hours I spent tucked up with Drive. And Linchpin, but more on that later.
