People have asked about the sketches, visuals and visual prompts that I've used in trainings, presentations and blog posts. So, in case you're interested, I'm slowly getting all of them onto an Education Rethink Flickr page.

You can view the following sets:

• doodles / sketches
• eCards
• slides
• writing prompts (still need to load more)  

All of the visuals are Creative Commons licensed, which means you can share them on blog posts, professional development, keynote slides, etc. I just thought I'd let you know about these, if you're a person who does a lot of training or if you're looking for something geeky to add to your blog posts.  

My son just came back from a full week of science. He was in a really cool hands-on STEM camp (closer to STEAM or maybe even SHTEAM). He was in a classroom that didn't feel like a classroom. In his off time, he helped take care of the neighbor's horses, ran around the farm and went hiking with his grandpa all around Colorado.

I am often amazed by the science of summer and the spaces outside of classrooms. It's a time of inquiry, observation, hypothesis-making, tweaking  data collection through one's own eyes and fuzzy conclusions that often lead to more questions. It happens without ActivBoards or anchor charts or objectives on a wall.

This isn't a slam on science classrooms and certainly not science teachers. Some of my favorite bloggers are science teachers who somehow manage to bring that world from the outside into the classroom and find ways to get the students out of the classroom and into the world.

Over the last week, I've run into some interesting people: a steam-punk former Australian with an eclectic taste in art, a Luddite in a tech camp who sees social media as largely destructive, a conservative evangelical church planter.

I enjoyed this group of people largely because of an overall theme from my former mentor: you never know the whole story. I think that sense of never knowing the whole story is what permeates the following advice he gave me years ago.

We were having coffee and I asked him why he didn't act like "an old guy" and I expected something about youth and perspective and an open mind. But instead, he ticked off five things that he promised himself in his youth that he never wanted to say:

1. "That's a boring person." I challenged him on this and he said, "There are no boring people. Just people who have gotten really good at hiding. So, that's why you ask really hard questions that push people out of boredom." He's right. There's always a story behind the boredom. Always.
2. "The music is too loud." Brad warned me that I would reach an age where people stop listening to new music and start thinking that the music they enjoyed in their youth was better than the current stuff. "Don't forget that music is someone's craft and dismissing it just because it sounds different is basically saying, 'I don't like art.'" 
3. "The book was better than the movie." He told me this one time when I was talking about the Harry Potter series. He reminded me that it's a different medium, one that is often more visual, emotional and concise. It's more fun to think about the differences, not in terms of good or bad, but in terms of how the message changes as a result. I remember once complaining about books that have movie posters as covers. Again, he challenged me. "What if that becomes the gateway drug to reading?" Yep. 
4. "That's a strange way to dress." Clothes are a method of self-expression. If it looks odd, think of it as a statement about identity and society. It's a chance to open one's mind. This small piece of advice transformed the way I thought not only of how sub-cultures dress, but also about the transgender community. In other words, clothes become a story that someone is telling and often the stranger the clothes, the more interesting the story. 
5. "That's shallow." If I think that sports or fashion or a certain genre of literature seems shallow, chances are, it's because I have only a shallow understanding of them. Instead of labeling it as shallow, it helps if I think about "the shallow" from a more critical lens. 

I spent this last week teaching a workshop on social media for learning at Camp Plug and Play (a really cool Arizona K12 event). We approached it from the perspective of personalized professional development and an integrated aspect of project based learning.

On the first day, I asked people what the barriers were to using social media in the classroom. They mentioned time, lack of know-how and a general sense of irrelevance. A few of them suggested that social media was a waste of time when "real" learning needed to happen.

However, those concerns slowly shifted as we engaged on social media. Suddenly, the time factor wasn't as big of an issue, the know-how took care of itself and participants saw the platforms as relevant and useful.

Two new barriers emerged. The first was the testing culture. Social media everything that a standardized test isn't: relevant, social, interactive, personalized and connective. Teachers weren't worried so much that social media would lead to low test scores, but that the pressure to pass the test would leave them abandoning the PBL framework we had used in a push for a more I do - we do - you do framework.

The second barrier was access. I found teachers calling their tech coordinators and begging for sites to be unblocked, making statements like, "Yes, but we still have a cafeteria even when bullying happens there."

So, we quickly moved from personal to policy barriers. And that's why teachers need to be outspoken about bad policies. If the system keeps them away from potential platforms for student learning, then they have every right to be irate and to lobby hard to change the system.

It used to be that the digital divide was one of money. Schools couldn't afford technology. Now we're seeing that the real digital divide that keeps us away from social media platforms is a series of fear-based policies.

Originally posted yesterday on the Arizona Stories from Schools blog. 

A few friends of mine have tweeted out / posted pictures of iOS 7. Design geeks seem to love the minimalism of it. They praise the lack of skeuomorphism (the non-functional elements that remind us of previous technology). And, in many respects, they're right.

Sometimes skeuomorphism is awful. I can't stand reading an eBook and having a page turn. It feels fake. But I also like a transition (a soft blending, for example). But I don't like to open an app and see fake mahogany staring back at me. It's the digital version of linoleum. I get irritated by a high-gloss, shaded finish on every app.

But there's dark side to it. In the drive to be minimal, the new iOS looks cartoonish. It looks like they were trying to copy Windows 7 (which feels like a clustered mess of bad street signs).
  
A few thoughts on it

1. Transitions Matter: We are looking for continuity, for story, for a sense of blurfing between transitions. It's why I like the  term "motion pictures," even if it's dated. And I like terms like "site" and "page" and even "book" to describe eBooks. I love the sense of story. I love the echoing voice of the past, still crying out, "I may not seem relevant to you, but I matter." 
2. Vintage Matters: Sometimes vintage is best. I mentioned this in a blog post about vintage versus futuristic ball parks. There is a real danger in chasing novelty and forgetting about sustainability. 
3. Decorative Matters: I think there's a danger in going for things that are purely functional and missing out on the need for the decorative. I don't need a belt to keep my pants up (my increasing waste size has done a great job at that already).
4. Texture Matters: I see this with logos. Taking away texture makes sense. Take away too much, without enough intentionality to depth of space, and you end up with something that looks like clip art. I like shadows between windows. I like the sense of depth and texture in apps.

So, as I think about the notion of rethinking schools, I hope we take skeuomorphism seriously. I'd love to get rid of rigid times, bells and other elements of the modern, factory model. However, we need to think about the need to keep some of the old. It's not all bad. And my hope is that as we push forward, we not only look at functionality, but also the aesthetic of school. I hope we embrace the concept of the decorative. I hope we don't miss the vintage. I hope we realize that we still need texture, even if it feels out of place in a globalized world. 

Somehow auctions on storage spaces have become t.v. worthy

We don't have cable television at home. I don't regret it. It's not for the elitist, t.v. is evil concept. I just get bored with it.

Cable TV should just be renamed Reality TV. I'm watching it and I'm baffled (I don't normally have it). None of them have programming that match their channel names. National Geographic has no geography. The History Channel has no history. There's no discovery happening on the Discovery Channel, no learning on The Learning Channel, no music on MTV, VH1 or CMT, no art on A&E, no actual cooking shows on the Food Network, and no weather on the Weather Channel. AMC is not running any classic movies. And HBO isn't showing movies. They're doing a video version of books on tape.

I'm flipping through and people are arguing over storage spaces.

Yeah, that's what passes as television.

I'm not sure why it happened. I'm not sure if it's what people want. But it has me thinking a lot about digital spaces and the way the medium reshapes the message. It has me thinking about the lack of intentionality that happens when an organization (business, channel, etc.) loses its identity in a goal of chasing the numbers.

photo credit: mharvey.nyc via photopin cc

When Tony Vincent asked me about leading a strand at Camp Plug and Play, I initially had no idea how to plan it. So much of tech training tends to be focussed on tools and strategies. And yet, social media tends to be relational and messy. It has to be. It's connective. It's human.

Initially, I struggle to try to prove that social media is relevant. I point out how it can be used for communicating, connecting, curating, creating and critical thinking. I have a linear outline. I plan it all out, complete with my alliteration and hope to be effecient in what I convey.

But then it hits me this morning. I'm introducing them to an experience. I'm introducing them to a community. So, if the conversations meander or go flat or feel confusing, well . . . that's social media. And my hope is that people embrace the mess, because that mess is a beautiful mess. That community is packed full of teachers who saved my career in my darkest moments.

That's what I want them to see.

I want them to fall in love with the concept of a PLN, because teaching can be lonely and hard and sometimes it's someone in another state or another country or another subject or grade level band who gets me and encourages me and debates me and challenges me in ways that might not happen in a staff lounge.

I have no idea how this week will go. I feel like I talked too much and didn't explain the platforms well enough. However, my hope is this: that they will experience social media and the personal learning network in such a way that they want to experience it even more.

My first thought is that we need music. Live music. We need art in spaces of boredom, in tech-heavy spots like jets, to remind us what really matters. There is something powerful about someone who has honed their craft deciding to demonstrate it, not in a concert hall or a museum, but among us, turning ordinary spaces into cathedrals.

My second thought is that people are missing it. Instead of experiencing the beauty, they are frantically trying to record it. Even at close proximity, they still capture the moment (why do we need to make beauty captive?) and experience it through a screen. They miss it.

And yet . . .

The fact that they miss it is why I got to see the moment secondhand and turn it into a blog post. And that's the power of technology. It's all about compression. It's all about capturing moments, compressing it and then amplifying it.

I'm not sure that it's a good or a bad thing. But it's ultimately the promise of technology.

When I first started student blogs, I assumed students would enjoy it. After all, we were using technology! It was, at the time, a cutting-edge tool! Unfortunately, I didn’t think ahead of time about the power of blogging as authentic, interactive form of expression. Instead, students wrote posts in isolation. I dicated the topics. Nobody commented. Nobody embedded pictures or multimedia. I even  chose the titles for them with clever phrases like "Bell Work, January 17th" or "Exit Ticket May 6th."

In short, they weren’t student blogs at all. They were student notebooks with a slightly digital flair. So, here are five things I did to move student blogging into a more meaningful experience. Please note that these are not meant to be solutions so much as ideas. I realize that teaching is contextual and my five fix-it ideas might not be relevant to you.

1. Student autonomy. I began with letting students design the physical layout of their blogs and create titles that fit who they were. This might sound superficial, but it was what kind of like letting them decorate their own room. It empowered them to own the space. Next, I encouraged students to find topics based upon their interests. From there, students began to write based upon their own interests. I encourage them to use labels to organize their posts based upon their own connective thinking.
2. Sometimes students still need ideas. I encourage them to brainstorm topics on a Google Doc. However, I also create visual prompts to help students access ideas and questions. Sometimes I post links that they might want to respond to.       
3. Treat blogging as a genre. Not everything is meant to go on a blog. Some things belong on Google Docs or sites or even e-mails. So, we treat blogging as a type of writing that is deliberately public and interactive. Let them understand how blog feeds, comments and embedded media work. I've learned that students won't add labels, pictures or links unless they see it modeled. For all the talk of Digital Natives, students don't initially get blogging and they aren't quick to go explore it themselves. We view blogs that we enjoy and we use some of those strategies on our student blogs.  
4. Multimedia: Often, blogs fail to take advantage of video, audio and visuals. Blogs became more dynamic when students could use multimedia to convey their voice. Yes, blogging nearly always corresponds to social studies, reading and writing standards. However, when students can be more holistic in their approach, the writing part can feel less intimidating. 
5. I pushed for interactivity. At first, I had to show students some sample discourse questions and stems. However, over time, they learned the art of conversation and the power of blogging to create nuance. Students want an audience. But it’s more than that. They want a conversation. That’s what blogging offers. 

When I was a kid, I loved watching games at Tiger Stadium, Fenway Park and Wrigley Field. I couldn't understand why they were so much more interesting than all the other stadiums of the day. So, I started finding pictures of old ballparks (as opposed to stadiums) and I kept thinking, "Where did we go wrong?"

I fell in love with the skyline and the backdrop of Crosley Field.

I fell in love with the trees and the natural feeling of Forbes Field.

I was intrigued by the strange dimensions of Shibe Park.

Every one of these stadiums had issues when there destroyed. They were too small, too out-of-step with the times, sometimes too run-down. So, the solution in the sixties and seventies was demolition. Blow those ball parks up and re-imagine the space as something more multi-functional, technological and relevant with the times.

People were clamoring for change. They wanted stadiums that were modern enough to reflect the Space Age. Something that was rounded and novel and different from the old clunky, asymmetrical ball parks of the past.

The results? Donut stadiums that all looked the same in their search for being modern, slick and multifunctional. Oh, they had Jumbo Trons and Astro Turf and they could be used for concerts and football and everything else a city needed. Even the true ballparks like Candlestick (formed in the last era of ballparks, around the time of Dodger Stadium) began to transform into multipurpose stadiums. They weren't ballparks.

This is Riverfront. Not that you could tell. It looks the same as Three Rivers or Veteran's Stadium or Busch Stadium or pretty much every other place built in that era.

Then, at some point, people woke up and realized that there was beauty in the vintage. Suddenly, we had places like Camden Yards and AT&T Ballpark that were true ballparks. They had personality. They were deliberately parochial, representing the local community in form and function. But more than anything, they were built, not to be innovative spaces, but to be ballparks. They were all of a sudden intentional again.

I think education reformers on both the corporate side and the progressive education community could learn a thing or two from the failures of the donut stadium era.