February 12, 2008

twitku tuesday: the sweetheart edition

Another week has zipped by, and it's time to announce the winner of this week's twitku contest. First, a couple of dispatches from the All-Things-Tiny Desk.

ALASITAS

In Bolivia, 'tis the season for alasitas, fairs celebrating Ekeko, a household god in charge of prosperity. Buy a miniature version of whatever your heart desires, and Ekeko will bring you the real thing during the next year. Pack up your hopes and dreams in a tiny traveling suitcase and send them out into the cosmic stream. It's like a reverse protection racket run by a grinning, magnanimous mob boss.

I imagine an Ekeko-like mischievous imp of poetry, lounging in an old leather armchair somewhere in middle America and nodding approvingly at the scribblings of tiny poets. As shorthand, let's say our imp's name is Hayden Carruth. Tomorrow the imp's name might be Bukowski; the day after that, Giovanni. We take off our shoes, empty our pockets, and send our 17-character carry-ons down the conveyor belt. In return, we hope for the the flashing gift of life-sized poetry.

ekeko/written/brief

 

TINY POETRY ILLUSTRATED

Diane Cordell has blazed another new twitku trail. In a recent post, she writes eloquently about the electrifying sign language of images. She says, "By providing images to spark connections, we can extend and deepen understanding." Diane has created a series of twitku compositions that spark connections by beautifully marrying text and images.

Lovesparadox

 

Yeswecan

For more, see Diane's Tiny Poems photoset on Flickr. 

THIS WEEK'S WINNER

Our new Twitku Champ is Joyce Seitzinger, a Kiwi edublogger who writes The EdTech Bach blog. Congratulations, Joyce! The winning poem:

procr/astina-/ti-on

As I rush to wrap up this post before Twitku Tuesday segues into Twitku Wednesday, I feel the rightness of Joyce's subject matter. Joyce, pick your twitku swag from the cornucopia below.

Twitkuorange

 




VOTE!

Vote for your favorite twitku from entries to the Sweetheart Edition. We saw some thematic creep between the romantic and political contests. But, hey, who am I to judge? What I deem political, you might call romantic. C'est la vie.  The poll will be open until Monday, February 18; the next Twitku Champ will be announced and badged on Tuesday, February 19. Thanks to this week's contributors: Carolyn Foote and Aaron Strout.

NEXT WEEK'S CONTEST - THE PRESIDENT'S DAY EDITION

Next week's contest is now open; submissions accepted until 11:59pm CST, Monday, February 18. Give us your best Lincoln or Washington poems. Give us your abbreviated Gettysburg Address: four score and seventeen characters.

You can contribute a twitku in any of these ways:

  1. Twitter: Send a tweet or direct message to @twitku575.
  2. email: Send a message to sschwister[at]gmail[dot]com.
  3. comment: Leave a comment on this post.
  4. wiki: Add your twitku to the Twitku wiki Current Contest page.

Good luck!

February 05, 2008

twitku decision 2008: the super tuesday edition

Gather round, dear hearts, old souls, gentle readers, and tiny poets. It's time to announce the results of this week's poetry contest.

First, heartfelt thanks to everyone who contributed poems this week; see a full list here. Warm welcome to the Tiny Poetry Society to new contributors Carolyn Foote, Will Richardson, and Joyce Seitzinger.

Drumroll and fanfare, please. The winner of the inaugural edition of Twitku Tuesday is Diane Cordell for her extended riff/homage to Gerard Manley Hopkins, reprinted here in its full glory.

as ima/ges catc/h fire
twitk/u draws f/lames
Scott:/grief o'e/r leaf?
gold'n/ grove re/leav'd

 

By stringing together four "classic" twitku, Diane was not exactly following the rules. And that's just the sort of unorthodox, innovative behavior we like to see to keep things interesting.

As this week's Twitku Champ, Diane is entitled to garnish her blog with a spankin-new badge. Twitkudo downloads are available below in a variety of mouth-watering Twitku Champ badge flavors and sizes. The standard badge is 249 pixels wide; the new small version is 150 pixels.

Twitkuorange

 





VOTE!

Vote for your favorite twitku. The poll will be open until Monday, February 11; the next Twitku Champ will be announced and badged on Tuesday, February 12.

Thanks to Diane for helping to sift and winnow through the many deserving entries.

NEXT WEEK'S CONTEST - THE SWEETHEART EDITION

Next week's contest is now open; submissions accepted until 11:59pm CST, Monday, February 11.

February 14, of course, is Valentine's Day, so our theme gives a peck on the cheek to the infinite varieties and many splendors of love. What better way to express your love than with a twitku?

box in/shape of/heart

You can contribute a twitku in any of these ways:

  1. Twitter: Send a tweet or direct message to @twitku575.
  2. email: Send a message to sschwister[at]gmail[dot]com.
  3. comment: Leave a comment on this post.
  4. wiki: Add your twitku to the Twitku wiki Current Contest page.

Good luck!

February 02, 2008

cease and desist? naaah. let's live in harmony.

The huzzahs, hurrahs, and associated fanfare from this week's launch of the Tiny Poetry Society and twitku contest have died down to a dull roar. In this rare moment of silence, I discovered the other twitku.

[Cue Hitchcockian violin flares].

Twitkucom_screenshot_2


TwitKu is "a simple web app that lets you monitor the social networking sites, like  Twitter, Jaiku and Pownce, on a single page," a self-described social networking mashup. The site's tagline is REFUSE TO CHOOSE.

This news prompted a visceral reaction that can best described as fire-in-the-belly meets fierce-mama-bear. My cubs are in danger! My fledgling twitku poets! Virtual loins girded, armed to the teeth with witty repartee, I sallied out to defend our poetic ground. For honor! For Keats! For Byron! For blog and country! My first impetuous thought was to issue a sternly-worded cease and desist letter to the encroaching TwitKu.com hordes. But, given my total lack of jurisprudential knowledge, I feared that such a tack would put our case (case? what case?) on shaky legal ground. Second thoughts, like middle children, are usually more sensible. My second thought was to employ the Olive Branch Gambit. I penned the following email to Doug Nakakihara, TwitKu's creator:

Doug,

It's a small world. A tiny world, in fact. I just discovered the mashable wonders of twitku.com. Nice work.


Were you aware that there is also a growing grassroots movement around a new Twitter-inspired poetic form called a twitku? Tthink of it as a micro-haiku. Three "lines" of 5, 7, and 5 characters each (line breaks are indicated by slashes), mirroring the classic haiku proportions but in miniature. Interest in exploring the twitku form is such that I'm hosting an informal weekly contest on my blog.

Glad to have discovered the intersection of our twitku world and yours. In the spirit of twitku-llaboration, I offer you this twitku:

share/&d share/alike

Cheers.

Doug's gracious reply came back minutes later:

Very interesting Scott. Thanks. Good luck with our project.

And with those nine simple, resonant words, the armistice was signed. Stand down, Tiny Poetry battalions! Beat your arms into poems! Pax poetica!

Note, gentle reader, that Doug called it OUR project, not YOUR project. I'm impressed by Doug's sense of humor, generosity, and collaborative spirit. Maybe we should start a tiny poetry thread on the TwitKu.com forum. The list of possible collaborations is long, and the future of tiny poetry mashups is bright. Meanwhile, if you're a fan of Twitter, Jaiku, or Pownce, I encourage you to check out TwitKu.com and say hello to Doug.

January 31, 2008

this makes me just a tad dizzy

Obamatwitter

 

January 29, 2008

twitku tuesday contest inaugural edition now open

I had big plans to wait until next week before officially opening the polls---you know, give the idea time to percolate, build up a healthy collection of submissions---but today's wonderful flood of twitku creativity convinced me otherwise. Act now!

carpe/diem day/seize

Heartfelt thanks to the new Tiny Poetry Society inductees who submitted poems today: Dina Strasser, Liz Davis, and Erin S.

Twitkured

And I'm honored to crown Diane Cordell as our very first Twitku Champ, a much-deserved laurel bestowed for her tireless trail-blazing in the service of tiny poetry. If there's a twitku canon, she has already secured her place in it. Diane, step up to the podium to receive your prize. Soak up that Twitku Champ badge love:

VOTE!

Vote for your favorite twitku. The poll will be open until Monday, February 4; the lucky Twitku Champ will be announced and badged on Tuesday, February 5.

The twitku above were selected from the hordes of lovely submissions by a sadly partial and unscientific process: I picked ones that caught my eye. I also tried to include at least one twitku from each poet. Unfortunately, keeping the poll widget from swelling to unmanageable dimensions requires limiting the number of items. Choosing which twitku to include is just the kind of tough responsibility I'm happy to  shirk by placing it in the able hands of each week's reigning Twitku Champ. Diane, I hope you can help with next week's crop of genius poems.

NEXT WEEK'S CONTEST - THE SUPER TUESDAY EDITION

Next week's contest is now open; submissions accepted until 11:59pm CST, Monday, February 4. February 5 is Super Tuesday, so let's make it a presidential theme. Brush up on your caucusing. Give us your best 17-character state of the union address. Remember, you can contribute a twitku in any of these ways:

  1. Twitter: Send a tweet or direct message to @twitku575.
  2. email: Send a message to sschwister[at]gmail[dot]com.
  3. comment: Leave a comment on this post.
  4. wiki: Add your twitku to the Twitku wiki Current Contest page.

Good luck!

January 28, 2008

we live as we dream, alone?

My new fave on the edublog uberscene is Dina Strasser's The Line. Beautifully written, sharply observed, and smart as a whip. Dina, you had me with Annie Dillard; everything after that is cake.

Dina's recent post, For Whom the Bill Tolls, is a pushback response to Bill Ferriter's thoughts on Twitter, itself a pushback to her previous comments. Is that called a pushback-to-back? Questioning Twitter's marquee status of late as a gateway to authentic connection, Dina proposes an alternate analogy:

I wonder if Twitter may be better seen as a tollbooth. It only lets you onto the road if you already have the fare. In this case, the fare would be having the capacity for authentic connection in the first place.

312655333_ce3b71597d_5 Kids, capacity for authentic connection is your ticket to ride. You must be this tall to ride the Twittercoaster.

Dina's idea of a developmental threshold for meaningful network engagement dovetails nicely with Will Richardson’s notion of “network literacy.” Struggling to define a role for social networking in students’ lives, Will writes:

I’ve come around to the idea that much of what we need to know to flourish with these tools is nothing more than solid reading and writing literacy. But there still seems to me to be a network literacy as well, something that stands apart from simply reading and writing, something that deals with our ability to create and find and connect dots.

So yeah, I agree. Social networks as they are currently defined and delivered aren’t for schools. But using social tools to teach our students to build their own networks, networks that go beyond simply socializing with the people they already know has to be.

 

So if capacity for meaningful relationships is part of the network literacy dot-connecting toolkit, how do kids develop that capacity? Are kids’ connective foundations best built offline, before they’re awash in Web 2.0? Might immersion in the mores of social networking short-circuit that crucial developmental stage?

Over at apophenia, danah boyd starts from the same premise---building capacity for connection as a developmental imperative—and takes it in almost exactly the opposite direction.  She argues that social network sites don’t belong in schools---not because they’re inherently without value, but because they don’t have pedagogical value. Network literacy may be a laudable education goal, she says, but social network sites won’t get you there.

Social network sites do not help most youth see beyond their social walls. Because most youth do not engage in "networking," they do not meet new people or see the world from a different perspective. Social network sites reinforce everyday networks, providing a gathering space when none previously existed.

The value of social network sites, danah says, lies precisely in fostering the kind of developmental socialization missing in kids’ overscheduled lives.

I'm not saying that social network sites have no value. Quite the contrary. But their value is about the kinds of informal social learning that is required for maturation - understanding your community, learning the communicate with others, working through status games, building and maintaining friendships, working through personal values, etc. All too often we underestimate these processes because, traditionally, they have happened so naturally. Yet, what's odd about today's youth culture is that we've systematically taken away the opportunities for socialization. And yet we wonder why our kids are so immature compared to kids from other cultures. Social network sites are popular because youth are trying to take back the right to be social, even if it has to happen in interstitial ways.

Fascinating stuff, and it gets better. Dina also raises the question of false privacy, of online presence versus aloneness. Aren’t we really alone on the web? And if isolation is the fundamental nature of the online experience, and connectedness an artifice, how do we reconcile this with students’ developmental need to build the internal wiring for real human connection? She asks it better:

So can we really teach kids to authentically connect through a medium which causes us to conceive of ourselves fundamentally as alone? Isn’t this an inescapable contradiction in terms?

Ah, the yawning existential void. Peering through a generational lens may shine some light into the solitary darkness. For those of us who are “cross-century adults” (a Strasser-coinage worth its weight in gold, people), this business of having an online life will always feel strange. It’s an awkward fit, a suit of clothing that hangs not-quite-right on our frames, a lingering sense of otherness. My own mental presets are hardwired to find Life 2.0 an endless gee-whiz affair. The novelty wears down with experience, but it never wears completely off. Even the nomenclature I chose a moment ago---Life 2.0---reminds me that I persist in thinking in terms of alternate universes, equal-but-separate, rather than an integrated whole. My networked life is cantilevered out into virtual space, the whole shuddering contraption counterbalanced by and anchored to my Life 1.0 foundations, and everywhere bolted together with makeshift analogies and patched with vocational Bondo. For us, online life means experiencing an unavoidable self-consciousness, an immigrant accent that will never disappear from our speech, and which is often unintelligible to fluent younger generations.

Emily Nussbaum covered the online generation gap with a great New York Magazine article called Kids, the Internet, and the End of Privacy

None of this is to suggest that older people aren’t online, of course; they are, in huge numbers. It’s just that it doesn’t come naturally to them. “It is a constant surprise to those of us over a certain age, let’s say 30, that large parts of our life can end up online,” says Shirky. “But that’s not a behavior anyone under 30 has had to unlearn.” Despite his expertise, Shirky himself can feel the gulf growing between himself and his students, even in the past five years. “It used to be that we were all in this together. But now my job is not to demystify, but to get the students to see that it’s strange or unusual at all. Because they’re soaking in it.”

It’s like the vestigial nuclear fear carried deep in the bones of those who grew up during the Cold War, who remember crouching under desks or in hallways during school drills, who envisioned short, dark unfutures of fallout, brutality, and canned food, whose sense of possibility was tenuous and fragile. Born after the Berlin Wall came down? You won’t understand. But you’re born into a different, equally-complicated world that we can’t understand. You carry your own set of bone-deep realities. Your experience is transparent to you, and maddeningly opaque to us. For you, there’s no separation anxiety because there is no separation.

Rather than striving to show students the strangeness of it all, shouldn't we  just soak it in? 

 Image credit: Alton Carnival/4 by Daniel Leininger.

January 26, 2008

hello twitter verse

             Poetry is life distilled. --Gwendolyn Brooks

             Poetry uses the hub of a torque converter for a jello mold.  --Diane Glancy 

Following in the time-honored tradition of jello mold conversion, the Higher Edison Tiny Poetry Society announces a bold innovation in poetry, a Lillipoetic foray into less-is-more versification, a teeny-tiny new literary genre: the twitku.

WHAT'S A TWITKU?

Briefly (and we do mean briefly), a twitku is a micro-haiku. A twitku follows the familiar proportions of a haiku, but in miniature form. Instead of three lines of five, seven, and five syllables each, a twitku's lines are five, seven, and five characters each. A twitku looks like this:

hello/twitter/verse

Economy of language is a poet's metier. Similarly, Twitter is all about keeping it short and. . . tweet. Twitter meets poetry, and twitku is born.

Actually, the idea to hijack Twitter for literary repurposing came from George Mayo's excellent, elegant Many Voices Twittory project. If you've never met one, a twittory is a collaborative story written using Twitter. I like to think of it as 140 characters in search of a story. Each author signs up for a sequenced slot and is allotted Twitter's standard 140 characters with which to further the story---an assignment which becomes more challenging as the story progresses from author to author.

Why write twitku? Mostly, like writing twittories, for the sheer larking fun of it. But the English teacher in me is also jazzed about what we can learn by playfully experimenting with language. I learned about Many Voices from Clay Burell's post Many Voices: A Global Creative Writing Twittory for K-8 Worth Joining. Clay gives a list of reasons to be enthusiastic about Many Voices, a list I'd love to see applied to nascent twitku writing projects.

And there's almost as much fun to be had from simply exploring the expressive limits of a new medium. Sean Law tweeted this observation: "The twitku form fascinates me... the birth of a literary form through technological invention? Like writing novels because of the invention of the printing press..."

HOW TWITKU?

Ground rules and conventions of the twitku form:

5/7/5. Three lines, 5, 7, and 5 characters respectively.
Line breaks. Twitter doesn't do hard returns, so indicate line breaks with a slash [/].
Spaces are free. Spaces don't count toward your 17 character total.
Punctuation? You make the call. The purist stance says that punctuation counts. But, hey, you're the poet---you decide. Be creative. Push the genre envelope.

It's up to you. Bend the rules, or not. Find out what flights of expression are possible within the tiny confines of a 17-character poem. As Diane Cordell writes:

no bou/ndary 4 a/rtist

TWITKU TUESDAYS TINY POETRY CONTEST

Calling all poets! Higher Edison's Tiny Poetry Society announces a weekly twitku contest.

You can contribute a twitku in any of the following ways:

  1. Twitter: Send a tweet or direct message to @twitku575
  2. email: Send a message to sschwister[at]gmail[dot]com.
  3. comment: Leave a comment on the weekly contest announcement  post on Higher Edison.
  4. wiki: Add your twitku to the Twitku wiki Current Contest page.

Twitku submissions will be accepted until 11:59pm CST every Monday. Readers are invited to vote for their favorite from the week's collection. The previous week's winner, and polling for the next week's contest, will be posted every Tuesday on Higher Edison. Contributions and other twitku-related goings-on will be archived at the Twitku wiki. All contributors are eligible for induction into the Tiny Poetry Society. Weekly contest winners will receive fabulous twitkudos in the form of a vintage "twitku champ" badge, now available in three bold-and-brassy colors:

Twitkublue

 




Twitkured






Twitkuorange




TWITKURRICULUM

Add your ideas for twitku/tiny poetry lesson plans and activities to the Twitku wiki.

January 23, 2008

in PLN sight: envisioning the future of professional development

How do networks change the way we view professional development, and how do you see that working for teachers in the future?
                                         --Patrick Higgins, VoiceThread: "Your PLE, or what have you"                                                                                                   

While there's no shortage of edubloggers out there ready to testify about the transformational power of a PLN, I don't think the answer to Patrick's question is a slam dunk. Yet. It''s not self-evident that PLNs are the wave of the future. There's plenty of uncertainty to go around, at least for now. As Patrick commented:

It's the hinterlands of PD at the moment. However, my focus this year is to "be the change," so I cannot accept that it's not happening.

My first crack at Patrick's question included this response to his VoiceThread:

But I worry about how the organic fluidity of a PLN translates into a teacher's professional development plan. . . . I wonder about the practical challenges of taking this notion into mainstream channels without bastardizing, or what Clay Burell calls rubricizing, a process that is by nature unique to each individual. Do we kill it by institutionalizing it? Can we integrate it into current PD practices and models without killing it?

It's possible to envision a scenario where PLNs are more or less integrated into current professional development models. It's equally possible to imagine PLNs sweeping away the familiar professional development world in a transformational tsunami---or being completely ignored. I have to agree with Patrick's reading of the present moment: PLNs are in the hinterlands. Bright nodes and brilliant examples of networked learning are scattered across the e-blogosphere, but for now they remain islands in the professional development mainstream.

So: if many outcomes are possible, which is the most likely? Which is the best for teachers and students and schools? When you're standing on the shoulders of giants, it's a lot easier to see promising pathways. With a little altitudinal help from my friends, I'll take a speculative crack at outlining a PLN-integrated professional development model. Consider it a rough sketch of underlying principles. Critique, comment, and help fill in the (sure to be many) gaps.

Grassroots action alone is not enough. Carolyn talks about the informal networks that naturally emerge in a school---what she calls "the teacher down the hall"---as colleagues share ideas and resources, commiserate, brainstorm, and support each other. These relationships are a kind of personal learning network, of course, and they're incredibly important as a familiar starting point. Many of us have launched ourselves into the wider virtual world to find teachers down the street, across the state, over the seven seas, across 15 time zones, and often into the next day. We're building new networks through blogging, twittering, and the whole polyglot of Web 2.0 applications. But, for most of us, our networks  are informal, self-constructed, and semi-legitimate, flying under the orthodoxy radar. We're in the thick of an unprecedented, ecstatic groundswell of learning and collaboration. Still, it'll need help to escape the echo chamber.

Support from committed administrators alone is not enough. Kelly Christopherson gives seasoned advice for effecting educational change---moving the mountain of "not enough time, not enough resources, not enough internet access, poor hardware, not enough PD, don’t know enough, too many other initiatives, too many other social demands in the classroom." His not-so-flashy advice? Small steps.

Small steps are important. Bringing people along so they can see the benefit and having it save them time really heps. Providing that one-to-one help is so important.

And having school leaders who, like Kelly, can provide the help and show the benefits because they're doing it themselves? That goes a long way. But there's so much further to go. As Kelly says, "We need to help teachers overcome their fears, addressing them not dismissing them and giving them the time that they need to adopt."

Persuasion alone is not enough. Evangelism too often ends up as preaching to an already-networked choir, eloquence falling on deaf ears, dismissable rah-rah-ism, unthirsty horses milling around the watercooler. For those whose doors remain closed, Diane says "we have to beguile, persuade, convert them."  And cajole, cheer, and invite. The motivation is intrinsic, not extrinsic. Carolyn: "But how do you "explain" how invigorating something is?  It takes time (and interest) to build an online network."

Persuasion by policy mandate can steamroll over a certain amount of resistance, but it's never the be-all-end-all. Scott McLeod has written about the "right of refusal" that slows technology integration like molasses: "But in education, we plead and implore and incentivize but we never seem to require." Unthirsty horses again.   

Incentives alone are not enough. Besides the joy of learning, I mean. 

Modeling alone is not enough. But it's a darn good start. Showing, not just telling. Sharing your network, inviting others to join. Being inclusive, not exclusive. Being generous with your commenting, linking, and teaching. Being transparent about your learning.

The learning must be scaffolded. The PLN experience must be accessible, manageable, and intelligible to teachers, making sense to them like "the teacher down the hall." The technology should be in the background---this is about relationships, not applications.   Carolyn has a wealth of valuable insights in the vein in her post "Keeping it real." I'm tempted to copy it here in its entirety, but I'll limit myself to her concluding thoughts:

I think we need to keep it real.  I think we need to keep it specific. I think we need to keep it personal.   I think we have to tie it into what teachers already know.  I think we have to tap into the need.  I think we have to help teachers identify what is in it for their students.  And I think we have to model being a connected, global teacher and invite them into that experience.

The best scaffolding I can imagine is to embed the PLN experience in an existing model of (local) networked learning: the professional learning community. Jumpstart the PLN-building process with a  face-to-face experience where the context is visible, relationships are immediately personal, interests are shared, and the benefits of learning together are obvious and ongoing. Then, when the concept of networked learning has taken root, open the windows and let in the world. Let the PLC serve as a rich home base, a crucial node on its members' many individual networks. Carolyn suggests other great PLN starter-kit ideas, other ways to scaffold: PLN mentors to guide new teachers in developing their own networks; college/school collaborations that merge, overlay, and extend both partners' existing networks. Clay Burell is on to something, too, with his "quick in, quick out" experiments that both distill and expand the PLN idea; instant-meeting guests show his students a freeze-framed slice of his own globally-reaching PLN.

Some assembly is required. However well scaffolded and supported, building a PLN is still a leap of faith and an individual labor of love. Indirection rules the day. Not quite knowing where we're going, we proceed by detours and tangents, by happy collisions, and grope our way to unexpected destinations. We change course as we discover new information that causes us to pose new questions. There's no dependable roadmap other than the one we make in transit, no vehicle except the one we assemble while in motion.

The perceived need and its path to fulfillment must be in plain sight. The learning has to be real, authentic, related and relevant to teachers' prior knowledge and experience, beneficial to teaching practice and to helping students learn, all that good stuff. But, even more importantly, it has to seem urgent and inevitable, like the only possible next step. The only sensible choice, the only way to move forward, the only way to survive. Compelling not because it outshines other pretty good choices, but because choosing anything else would be a kind of dying.

Patrick has come closer than anyone lately to capturing this notion of creating an urgent case:

I am feeling the need to break the mold, to present a shift so sudden yet so necessary that teachers would look at it with both fear and longing–saying “I want to do this for my own development!” or “This has to happen!” But what it looks like is escaping me. How do you make someone feel like they need something?

New models of networked professional development should/will/must emerge from networks. The most authentic and viable PLN-integrated professional development models will come about through the collaborative work of PLN-involved teachers, administrators, and staff developers. Like this.

Now, having reached the end of the list, I'm still pondering the pragmatic questions of moving from vision to practice. If a new professional development model is possible, how do we leverage our networks to make it happen? And put it in the mainstream? And help it make its case with a sense of manifest urgency?

One idea for a starting point, cribbed directly from Christian Long's Future of Learning Manifesto: Create a Future of Professional Development Manifesto. A statement of guiding principles for the new professional development landscape. A toolkit implementing new professional development models. A repository of testimonials about the power of PLNs and why they are needed.

Another idea: Participate in Will's EduCon session on Saturday, which will include

a conversation about how best to leverage our own understanding and practice of personal learning networks in ways that can influence others’ professional practice and, ultimately, create change in schools and classrooms.

I share Patrick's sense of urgency, but with it comes a sense of possibility. Now is a meta-moment of truth for personal learning networks. 

 

January 21, 2008

casting a professional development network

Patrick Higgins laid the groundwork for much of what follows in this and upcoming posts with his Ustreamed presentation at the Turning on Learning conference, Creating Personal Learning Environments for Professional Development. As preparation for his presentation, he sent a network shout-out for VoiceThreaded ideas about personal learning networks, and visions for how they may change the face of professional development. His heart-of-the-matter question:

How do networks change the way we view professional development, and how do you see that working for teachers in the future?

After having personal learning networks on my mind all week, in large part because of Patrick's question, I've been mentally trotting out metaphors describing the intersection of networked learning and professional development. You know the old saying: teach me to fish and feed me for a lifetime. The teach-fish-eat-live adage is a leading candidate right now.

We know effective professional development is sustained, ongoing, contextual, authentic, and based in community. And we know what ineffective PD looks like, too: one-shot workshops get us fired up, but the excitement fades in the sobering glare of the next day, and the day after that. You know the drill. The metaphor goes like this:

Give me a fish and I eat for a day: Sit and get. Feast for a day at a conference held at the downtown hotel, then back to the same old hungry classroom. The classic one-day workshop guaranteed to sow the seeds of cynicism.

Teach me to fish and I eat for a lifetime: Better PD: learning that occurs in an environment of sustained support, actually relates to school and students, and is constructed through a genuine inquiry process, maybe even with colleagues in a professional learning community.

Normally, the metaphor would end there. But everything I've learned about and from networking in the past year suggests that there's more. To extend the metaphor:

Work together to cast a fishing net, and we do more than simply subsist; we also create a culture. Metaphor doesn't venture far from etymology. In a learning network, the benefits go beyond the pragmatics of simply having greater reach, of casting a broader net to collect more individual knowledge, of having an endless supply of colleagues ready to respond with resources, ideas, critiques, everything we need to advance our thinking at the slightest strum of a network filament. We can also pull together. We can also identify a shared concern or question, and work together to build an array of possible solutions. And by working together, we construct and live in a culture of learning and creativity. Communities of practice and professional learning communities verge on the idea of networked learning, but they keep it local---casting the net into a fishbowl. By casting an infinitely wide connective net, personal learning environments represent a sea-change from traditional, even best practice, professional development.

Diane Cordell writes, "We are never alone unless we choose to be so." Or, as Patrick says, "It’s a network, and it’s here for you.  Yes, you’ve got people."

 

twitku for king holiday

I have/dreamed/mlkjr

My Photo

students 2.0

kudos and widgets and badges, oh my

conversation

Blog powered by TypePad