Learning from a Far (Get it?)

    So, last week Far graciously extended an offer to show me how she runs her WebEx classes - a personal tutorial, if you will. It was an interesting learning experience, and Far was a super effective instructor. I was impressed at her mastery and ease at teaching online, an environment where I am still attempting to gain some facility.
     She showed me how she sets up her classes, how her students virtually raise their hands, how she can tell if they are attending to their work or not (somethings are the same for teachers, no matter the forum!). We practiced changing screens to share information, talking on the phone using the speaker and just up to the ear :), looked at some power points together while she spoke about them, etc. It was a highly effective way to teach, and I was impressed not only with the job Far did as a teacher, but with a couple of other things, as well. The differences in teaching online vs face-to-face, and the implications for global education, like MOOCs.
     I am a very emotionally and physically connected teacher. I hug students as they enter and leave the room (granted, they are seven :) ) and often use touch to refocus or encourage them. I bend down to make eye contact, and often make myself physically lower than they are to give them more power when I think they need it. Teaching online definitely removes those tools from the teacher kit. It made me wonder how much of my practice I'd have to change if my job ever became more internet oriented.
     When Farheen said that she can instruct more than a hundred students at a time, I was reminded of what we learned about MOOCs, and more accessible instruction. While I still think that same-site interaction provides an optimum learning experience, I can clearly see how these courses can be successful, especially with an engaging and organized instructor like Far.
     Overall, the experience was beneficial, both technically, and as a philosophically broadening experience. Thank you, Farheen!

Your Children Are My Children

"We are a world in grief, and it is at once intolerable and a great opportunity." 

 ~ Anne Lamott

 "Let us resolve that half a century and more of this country as a killing field is more than enough. Let us refuse to let this day of dying fade into memory and the malaise of resignation to things as they are. Let us stand against the odds so that countless others who otherwise would never even know the cause of their slaying or the name of their executioner may instead live, laugh, and find love and not hate. Today Barack Obama spoke his heart and the nation’s—and called on us to take “meaningful action regardless of the politics.” Maybe at last, this is the time; it must be the time. The massacre has come too many times." 

 - Robert Shrum (at Daily Beast)

     Last night my family was witness to me weeping and sniffling. This morning was more of the same. Anticipating another day with an emotional mother,  Mollie (15) crept into the kitchen with a hug and a smile, ready to help bake. Connor (17) appeared, with the offer of running down to the local Mexican bakery, to grab a bag of sweet breads and coffee to start the day. Griffin (18), bleary-eyed and recovering from his production week and opening night at school approached me with the coziest of man-child hugs and the words "What should I do for you before I leave, Mama?". Peter was already out and about picking up extra work on the weekend as we gather resources for what will be a skinny gifting season, but one wealthy in core blessings.

      I have to finish a peace paper, compile a research proposal for my university job, bake a few dozen cookies for a cookie exchange, go get a tree, be witty and attractive at no less than three holiday gatherings in the next 36 hours, lesson plan for next week and still attend to daily wife/mother/daughter responsibilities. As I often remind myself when I feel overwhelmed by the tasks involved in just handling things in an average fashion, my "problems" are the problems of the privileged - those blessed with healthy selves and families, full pantries and schedules, job security and deep friendships. Woe is me seems, well, is, a ridiculous refrain in the face of such abundance. 

     However, I have not been able to accomplish a thing - other than some cookies and lots of crying. The news is turned off, but plays incessantly in my head. My own fertile and malignant imagination filling in too many blanks with the faces and rooms of my school, my students, my parents, my peers. Like so many others this morning in our nation, I am full of heartbreak and anger. But this reaction is a visceral one. I am made physically ill at the events and my own emotional embellishments. I am experiencing this massacre, these lost children, not just as a parent, but even more intensely as a teacher. How many times have I said to a parent, regarding some miscellaneous scuffle between seven year olds, "It is my primary responsibility to keep your child safe at school."? More times than I can count, really. As teachers we recognize that learning cannot take place where there is fear. And that fear can be emotional or physical, but it is a real and important component in education to remove it from a child's school experience.

      I have not been surprised to hear of the heroic acts of the teachers at Sandy Hook Elementary School. Indeed, I would be surprised to hear anything less. We, your child's teachers, confidants and cheerleaders, take very seriously the responsibility handed to us every day when you drop a piece of your heart at our door. Over the years, I frequently thank my parents for the gift of trusting me with their children - and I mean it, deeply. That is why I cannot stop watching, cannot stop crying, cannot stop putting myself in those classrooms in Connecticut yesterday morning. Along with the collective voices of a distraught nation of parents, are the voices of teachers, and we are saying, This is enough. It is not only time to have the gun discussion we keep hearing about on the news, but to have gun action. Reform must happen, and it will be because parents and teachers and sane caretakers of our nation's children must demand nothing less. The time is now. It is our moral imperative. What will you do to further the task?

Camtasia Videocast

20% - Investigating a New Path

   

It isn't enough to talk about peace. One must believe in it. And it isn't enough to believe in it. One must work at it. 

Eleanor Roosevelt 

(wallwisher - a visual on 20%)

     I have been enviously reading Nour's accounts of delicious new recipes, Maureen's measurable accomplishments with Google, Far's videoed work product. My project has not been as concrete. How do you measure self-exploration and a growing facility with a new lexicon?
     In trying to define what, exactly, I've been spending this gift of 20% doing, I can only relate that this gift of time to learn something new, has been just that. I have been free to explore -  through readings online (Diigo Library!), inspirational TED talks, and chasing documents through Google Scholar - a burgeoning interest in a field away from my career and schooling.
     I feel as though I have been participating in a quirky online scavenger hunt, each find leading to the next. I have spent lost minutes gazing into space after stumbling upon a particularly thought-provoking quote or photograph. I have been moved to tears viewing inspiring videos, both beautiful and tragic.
Having come to the end of our EDUC travels, I can state, unequivocally, that I will be changing direction come fall, and that I will be using the tools we practiced here in this new sphere.
     Being able to invest this project time in the pursuit of an emerging passion as indeed, been a gift. Being able to research said passion more effectively than I ever could have three months ago is the sweet academic payoff.

Thoughts...

    

     Friday night my husband, kids and I headed up to campus to attend the Lessons & Carols service at Founder's Chapel. It was truly lovely. The choir sang like youthful angels, the chapel looked beautiful, and the homily was inspiring.

     There was a feeling not just of a spiritual community during a holy season, but of a spiritual community joined with an academic one, hearts united in hope and celebration.  I saw a couple of people I know, and was excited to see that one of the testament readers was a woman I have a class with this semester. It was delightful to be able to share a campus experience with my family, and to have my academic experience be enriched by the spiritual side of USD.

     We are a lucky few to be having a graduate school experience at all, and luckier still to be in a place that grows our intellects while feeding our souls. Whether you are fed visually, by the many stunning vistas USD affords, communally, by the extra events and groups available, or spiritually, through the opportunity to worship together, we all have much to be grateful for in this season of celebration for many cultures. 

     It was a gift, in this busy time, to be still in the midst of work, school, and family, and be grateful and singing.

Peace!

     

How I Feel After Tonight's Failed BlackBoard Attempt

'nuff said.

Classroom Tech Use - Bumps and Bonuses

   

     Integrating even the most basic technology into my classroom continues to be a challenge. I am definitely an old dog, historically reluctant to learn new tricks. As I have begun to be excited about, and recognize the necessity of, teaching with technology, I find myself starring in a repeating scenario. I find something new to try, get super pumped about it, and then due in equal parts to my technological black thumb, or a lack of the correct technologies, I am left frustrated and ready to forgo anything that requires a plug, battery, password or screen of any sort!
     That said, I am beginning to recognize a new routine when I am confronted with a problem. Step One used to be to either give up or call for help. Attempting to problem-solve alone was scary; I had a feeling that computers were delicate and that if I erred I'd be causing irreparable damage. I also felt limited by computer use. That if what I wanted wasn't working, there was no other option. Step Two was to revert to a back-up non-electronic lesson plan. It was also endlessly frustrating to waste instructional time trying to get things to work in class that were fully functional when I had planned them.
     These bumps in the road were on their way to becoming permanent blocks, keeping me from being a modern, current educator. The tide has begun to turn in a few key ways. Step One is now me. Calling for help is the last resort as I have become more comfortable with two ideas - We are all learning, and, as I tell my class, learners are people who make mistakes, fail, make more mistakes, and that is how they learn (interesting how my teaching with others was so easy to ignore when I was the one making mistakes!), and I have new tools in my kit that can help me solve problems myself. I am also learning that as frustrating as computer glitches are, it is okay to experiment. It is highly unlikely that I will kill the computer!
     Step Two is still about 50-50, but I feel comfortable with it. Some days, it may be okay to spend class time trying to solve something, and work together with my kids to do so. Other days I need to be mindful of the curriculum objective specifically and can't spare the time. And it is alright to make the old paper and pen choice. I am learning not to take it so personally when that happens, but to recognize that learning the new tricks was only the first step. Getting comfortable with them is another, and I am just beginning that phase of the relationship.
     The bonus of being willing to try to problem solve on my own is that I find myself stumbling upon things to try when I am looking for something else entirely. This has been both fun and crazy-making, as I sometimes try to integrate too many new things before I am adept at utilizing them.
     All in all, as the year progresses, and the fall comes to a close, I can take a moment to give myself a pat on the back. It is exciting and humbling to relearn something you are already very good at doing, and I am confident that I am an exceptional teacher. However, that does not excuse me from staying current, even though I sometimes try to let it.