The most personal (and “certain”) part of my personal learning network – teen learners!

Social Studies 11 project tile — photograph by Wendy Burleson, creation of her son

In all my musings about Personal Learning Networks (PLNs) these past few months, I realized last night that I neglected to mention one of the most essential components:  teens —  my two children, and all students under my guidance each semester.

One epiphany came at 1:30 a.m. last night, as I helped my sixteen year old son finish a Social Studies Challenge project –a difficult task considering his long work shifts this past weekend, a Law 12 test, and a rehearsal for the upcoming school musical that lasted from 4-10 p.m.   The project involved creating a pictorial tile to represent a Cree landscape at the turn of the century, telling a story through careful selection and manipulation of photos with editing tools, and using the color blue as the dominant hue.   My son rarely asks me for help but he did request my presence as a sounding board for his ideas – and I indeed served this function over the weekend – and last night, as assistant production designer with a bit of cutting and gluing (footprints and boot prints) around the stroke of midnight.  What is important, however, is not the narrative my son conceived of (which, by the way, is perceptive) nor the artistry and composition (which is quite proficient, from a design perspective).  The real story is how we related to each other – and what I learned from helping him in this endeavor.

The other moment emerged over morning coffee as I thought of my fourteen year old daughter studying science with her dad, and how I helped her prepare for an intense Biology test months before – something about which she felt tremendous stress and anxiety .  All of this preparation has occurred  within a hectic extracurricular schedule of ballet, tap, jazz, hip hop classes and performances.

From these moments, here’s what I’ve learned from the teens in my PLN:

• Never assume that a teen doesn’t appreciate tremendous support. I received the best thank you and bear hug from my son last night.  I will always remember and cherish this moment in time.
• Bright, capable kids feel incapable at times: they need more than words of encouragement;  they need acknowledgement of their stress, and often help – not with the work itself — but help in the sense of being present as an adult, as a voice of reason, as an oasis of calmness.
• Teens need explicit teaching and modelling of study strategies and time management. Neither comes naturally, even to the brightest and most motivated of students.   My daughter told me that I taught her how to learn – by showing her a myriad of strategies for making sense out of pages of complex biological terms.  She’s continuing to apply these strategies – understanding that well-applied strategies supercede the amount of time invested studying.   After completion of the project, my son discussed the process, and I’m pleased that he realized – on his own — that regardless of his heavy schedule this past week, some different weekend time management may have helped to avoid last night’s marathon.
• Teens need modelling of calm, problem-solving behavior. I learned that I haven’t been the best model in this regard at times – drinking copious amounts of coffee to deal with fatigue from my late nights and long weekends working on my M.Ed.  Although coffee has its health benefits, I don’t want my children or students relying on it to stay awake.  My son has steadfastly eschewed coffee (not only for dislike of the taste, but also projected cost of a coffee habit – yes, he is budget-minded) until this morning.  I hope that this isn’t the beginning of a lifelong coffee habit!
• Authentic, long-term, meaningful learning isn’t about perfection and knowledge in the denotative sense; yes, assessment and grades do indeed count for something, but what ultimately matters are the takeaways from the learning experience, knowing the process of learning, and knowing that knowledge and the learning process are dynamic – moving targets for which one must constantly adjust approach and aim. I’ve watched my Library and Information Skills students this semester understand these principles of learning  from many of our class discussions and assignments.   This is the joy of teaching!

In this context, it’s serendipitous that today I received this question via Linked In, a “Trending Discussion” in Ted Talks:  Ideas Worth Spreading, Unofficial.  Although I cannot yet answer this question for other aspects of my life, I do have “certainty” about why I teach – as a mom, and as a Humanities teacher and teacher-librarian.

“Does ‘certainty’ exist?  What is the foundation of certainty in anything?

Of this I’m certain:  Nothing gives me greater joy as a parent – and as a teacher –than when students tell me how they’ve learned to learn, perhaps think differently about an issue, demonstrate connections made to other learning, express pride in a project well done — or simply express the joy of learning.  And yes, I do believe that “joy” and “learning” can be  compatible partners!

 

 

The “Expedition” of Open, Online, and Ongoing Learning via a PLN (Personal Learning Network)

ex·pe·di·tion

ˌekspəˈdiSH(ə)n/

noun

noun: expedition; plural noun: expeditions

• a journey or voyage undertaken by a group of people with a particular purpose, especially that of exploration, scientific research, or war.

“an expedition to the jungles of the Orinoco”

synonyms:

journey, voyage, tour, odyssey; More exploration, safari, trek, hike“an expedition to the South Pole” trip, excursion, outing, jaunt

• the people involved in an expedition.

“many of the expedition have passed rigorous courses”

synonyms:

group, team, party, crew, band, squad

___________________________________________________________________________

My final challenge for one M.Ed graduate course:  to encapsulate my learning in an artifact, and to  do so creatively.  There must indeed be some truth that fatigue boosts creativity (based on some recent pseudo-science article I skimmed) — since I felt inspired to think outside of my default audio/video realm, producing a travel brochure modelled on one from Quark Expeditions.

I can’t conceive of a more apt metaphor than “expedition” for my journey — and I specifically selected photography, camping, and mountaineering as parallels for this journey.   It’s been a long, long, journey — and having said this, the only conclusive destination I foresee in my life is the completion of my M.Ed, December 2015.  Beyond this, where will I be?  Where will I go?  Time, experience, my mind and heart will be my travel guides.

In the meantime, here is my creative expedition brochure of my learning journey as of April 2015. Click the cover to peruse the entire brochure — and consider signing up for PLN expeditions!

Postcard Reflection #3: Life (and Learning) Beyond the Literature Review: reading, rhododendrons, and running

 

 Life beyond the Literature Review. After months of research on Personal Learning Environments (PLEs), intense, ongoing reading and re-reading of scholarly journals, weeknights and weekends spent cloistered in the graduate study area of the University of Victoria, resulting in a thirty page draft with forty-seven references, I anticipate a different set of 3R’s: reading for pleasure, rhododendrons, and running.

I’ve enjoyed twenty minutes daily of reading some truly stellar fiction, but wish to augment this time considerably following completion of my Lit. Review. My rhodos appear eager to burst into bloom, but alas, their fuschia glory will remain overshadowed by weeds until my draft is fully pruned.   And as much as I’ve enjoyed and logged many miles on daily walks to increase my Fitbit stats and physical activity, I’ve somehow managed to gain more weight in a single month than I have in a full year – and to go through a full bottle of Advil. My third R, therefore, will be a return to running, the best form of relaxation I’ve experienced.

I’ve often wondered about colleagues who pursue not one, but two Masters’ Degrees, or those who possess a graduate degree, yet speak of researching a topic of interest by completing yet another Lit. Review. Although my experience has been wonderfully rich on many levels, it is not one I wish to repeat formally or informally anytime soon – not unless I’m guaranteed to live to age one hundred and twenty and possess the mental acuity I have at present.

What I do anticipate is further learning – and informal learning that is self-chosen and self-directed. There are many topics I’d love to explore further as a result of my M.Ed coursework, but I will do so through a Personal Learning Environment, the topic of my M.Ed Project. This PLE will include setting my own goals and growth plan – as I’ve always done – but also curating them through the various technologies I’ve learned to use and appreciate in my M.Ed program. This blog is a step towards my PLE, incorporating my Twitter feed, but I’d like to add other tools, perhaps Feedly and Scoop it, to curate other rich materials discovered by Google Communities. Prior to the M.Ed program, I neither blogged nor used Twitter, but after a year and a half of using both, I can honestly say that I will continue to blog weekly and tweet daily.

I’ve learned much about myself as a teacher and learner by blogging – especially in my most recent M.Ed course this semester focused upon Open and Online Learning — and this semi-formal style I’ve begun to enjoy and perfect (to some degree) has enhanced my creativity and joy in writing for pleasure – even at the end of a tiring work day.  I’ve discovered that a reflective post is almost as energizing as a cup of Kickinghorse 454 dark roast! I also learned about the value of MOOCs, and I look forward to exploring the possibilities. I doubt I’d again pay for a certificate (sixty one U.S.dollars seems rather pricey for an electronic certificate that is “verified” – meaning that I had to submit a “selfie” to match my BC Driver’s license picture following every assignment submission).

I appreciated the clear, predictable structure for weekly learning tasks, the opportunity to share and collaborate online, and a defined time period for learning – something I’m not terribly good at self-regulating. Part of the reason I selected a MOOC in lieu of a general “something I wish to learn” is that if I’d opted for the latter, I would have pushed myself above and beyond what time and opportunity currently allow. Having said this, I’m already planning some preliminary “informal learning” of the Slovenian language – part of my heritage on my maternal grandmother’s side – which, I hope, will culminate in a Summer Language Institute in the capital city, Ljubljana within the next few years. I can’t wait to re-visit this culturally and linguistically-rich city, putting my rudimentary language skills into practice with vendors in the weekly summer markets.

I’ll also continue to develop my personal learning network within my school and district. This year, I’ve had the pleasure of coordinating a book club of fellow Teacher-librarians in an exploration of Inquiry-Based Learning. We chose a book titled Guided Inquiry Design by Carol Kulthau, met monthly to discuss chapters face-to-face, and in the interim, posted reflections and resources in a Google Community I set up for our group.   This book club complements a month-long series of district-sponsored workshops on “Backwards Design” a framework for Learning Design that seems to harmonize with elements of Inquiry-Based Learning.

The main direction of learning I’ll pursue, however, will include a variety of informal learning opportunities, discovered through my daily morning perusal of Twitter as I enjoy one (or three) cups of Kickinghorse 454. I’m not certain which does more to energize me – my daily dose of caffeine or the thrill of discovering a new nugget of knowledge that I can incorporate into my teaching.

In the hundreds of tweets I’ve skimmed, favorited, and re-tweeted, I’ve discovered a few themes I plan to explore further, on my own, in “informal learning”, curating my findings through PLE, my blog functioning as the heart, the new menu tabs I develop as the veins. My starting themes will include the following:

• Minecraft in Education: I’ve watched my son and his friends develop learning and leadership skills, using this tool to enhance school research projects as well as to create impressive, time-intensive projects developed collaboratively.   A recent Twitter post from Coffs Harbour Public School about Minecraft in Education looks to be an excellent starting point for my learning.       Not to mention actually setting up a Minecraft account and perhaps eventually being permitted to join my son in co-creating something!

• Games and Systems Thinking: how games such as Minecraft among others teach students about complex political, social, and cultural relationships they can see reflected in human history.   This recent article from Mindshift posted on Twitter (March 21, 2015) Online Games that teach kids the art of persuasion provides examples of games beyond Minecraft that can be used in context of both Humanities and Science. When I showed my sixteen-year old son the article, I didn’t expect any measure of enthusiastic endorsement, not only because he’s       diehard Minecraft aficionado, but also because my ideas and suggestion are usually met with a healthy dose of sixteen-year old skepticism. Neverthless, when my son perused the list, he enthusiastically endorsed Papers, Please and Civilization – in addition to sharing his experience with a board game called Democracy, which he’s playing in his Social Studies class. Who knew?

• Maker Spaces: using technology to make, repair, or customize the things we need using design, engineering, and computer science.   I see tremendous potential for this in the school library since Sylvia Martinez (@smartinez) delivered an informative and inspiring talk to my M.Ed cohort about their role in informal learning. I do already have students designing lamps and tables for the library created out of recycled books and materials based on certain design specs and challenges, but where could projects extend from here? That remains to be determined.

Life beyond the Lit. Review is something I’m eagerly anticipating. Tending my beloved rhododendrons, running, and reading for pleasure, are three pursuits I’ve had to limit and often curtail for the past eight months. I know, however, that they are inextricably linked to the kind of informal learning I’ll continue to engage in of my own free will and motivation. Some of my best ideas emerge from a meditating during a run, enjoying the beauty of blossoms or the poignancy of a powerful quotation in a novel.

This recent tweet from @thinklangley (March 31, 2015), certainly sums up my view of education following achievement of my M.Ed less than a year from today: “Education is not a product: mark, diploma, job, money in that order; it is a process, a never ending one.” – Bel Kaufman

How that informal learning occurs will include face-to-face with teams of local colleagues yet also online ventures. As @EdWeekTeacher recently tweeted (March 30, 2015) “As technology continues to improve, so do the many ways to learn from each other in any educational system.”

Completing the Literature Review: Back to Backpacking (metaphorically, of course)

If putting together the Literature Review felt like assembling a complex puzzle, the time, stamina, and effort I’ve invested to date is much more analogous to a demanding backpacking trip.

“Demanding” in my experience (those who have trekked to Kilimanjaro and Everest will guffaw, no doubt) brings to mind my four day trek to Mount Robson in 2004.  Initially, my mountain metaphor began with Arrowsmith on Vancouver Island, but this, comparatively, was much less intense than Robson, just as this literature review has proven to be a much more demanding, challenging piece of research and writing than anything I’ve written previously.

Many aspects of this trek are analogous to the Literature Review.  First, the months of preparation.   For the trek: coordinating house sitters, child care, supplies that would keep us comfortable at camp and during the journey up the mountain (hint – packing canned anything, even a small tinned treat, is never a good idea).  For the Lit. Review:  finding peer-reviewed and scholarly journals through multiple key-word combinations on the topic itself (Personal Learning Environments) and related elements (Web 2.0, Connectivism, social media), choosing studies representative of theory and practice, reading the studies (and in some cases re-reading the especially complex papers), taking notes, then organizing notes, studies, and working APA reference list in a 5” thick binder.   However, lugging this piece to and from the University of Victoria, 3 kilometeres each way doubles as strength and condition training for a summer backpacking adventure!

In the present, however, the twenty-two kilometers up a mountainside in a single day aligns with twenty pages of intense writing composed in a mere two weeks.    Both were physically, emotionally, and psychologically demanding treks in which I “hit the wall.”  On the Robson trek, I recall wanting to lie down in the middle of the trail, on the last 3 kilometers in – and out – despite rocks, rain and mud.   At the end of each day writing about complex theories – cybernetic social theory, agent-based modelling, and Connectivism to name a few —  I felt mentally exhausted, incapable of composing or comprehending  even one additional sentence or completing a mundane, rote task, like assembling my Reference List.

The old adage “no pain, no gain”, however, applies to both my mountaineering and academic treks.  Pain does have payoffs!

In the case of the Robson trek, I learned some valuable do’s and don’ts in packing, built some muscle strength and more significantly – a healthy dose of self-confidence.  I never imagined I’d be capable of keeping up with my superfit and strong spouse—and, in fact, surpassing his energy level and motivation to tackle an 11 km trek to Snowbird Pass the next day.

In terms of the Literature Review, I amassed some backpacking-inspired wisdom I am happy to share with any prospective M.Ed student about to embark upon the arduous trek of the Literature Review.

• Plan — take your time choosing a destination. As there are many mountains to explore and climb, there are a myriad of topics to explore in education.  You, like me, will likely be interested in many, but what is your true passion?  Take time to find it.  It’s ok to take months in this process before making a decision.

• Prepare – an provide a wide window of time  – months if possible, to gather supplies and resources.  Don’t underestimate the scale and scope of preparation or you will find the journey uncomfortable, stressful, and utterly unbearable.

• Be realistic about how much weight you can bear – keeping in mind that with every step on the journey, you’ll become increasingly fatigued. To Robson, 35 pounds seemed maneagable to pack, but halfway to Berg Lake, I reduced my load by 10 pounds, thanks to my spouse. During the Lit. Review, I organized a realistic, flexible timeline for reading and note-taking, knowing that the responsibilities of full-time work, family, friends, and my own needs for recreational fitness and reading would inevitably prevent more lofty goals.

• Don’t be afraid to lean on others – your personal learning network in your colleagues and cohort, and your family for chore delegation – vacuuming, laundry, cooking — and back massages.

• Don’t panic. It’s worth investing months into research, note-taking, and drafting a tentative outline before beginning to write.  Twenty to thirty pages sounds intimidating, but really, the process of writing goes relatively quickly if you know your subject and have readable, organized notes and quotes.  I budgeted two and a half weeks for writing the literature review, three to four hours per day including drafts and multiple edits of each section.

• Stay motivated and focused by thinking in segments. During the Robson Trek, I set mini-goals – sites along the way as goals and places for rest and nutrition breaks – rather than thinking of the bigger 22 km goal.   Whitehorn at the ten km mark was my favorite pit stop; it was the most challenging part of the journey with steep inclines and multiple switchbacks and also one of the most scenic parts of the route.

Lake Kinney at Mount Whitehorn, Mt. Robson Provincial Park, British Columbia, Canada

• Take time to relax along parts of journey. The trek to Robson wasn’t a race.  We enjoyed a leisurely lunch and many pit-stops taking photos of waterfalls and wildlife.  Similarly, during my Lit. Review journey, I took daily time to walk, run and enjoy fiction.  Relaxing my mind and body was an absolute essential for motivation, focus, and amassing mental energy.    Daily fitness goals also helped me meet – and surpass – my Fitbit challenge with my M.Ed cohort.  Yes, I’m a wee bit competitive, checking the Fitbit leaderboard each day, and I’ve been known to go for an additional power-walk late in the evening if surpassed in steps!

• Know that preparation pays off but do not expect perfection. Mountain terrain and weather always involves the unexpected – during the Robson trek, an especially torrential rainstorm  kept us communally cabin bound for an afternoon, (happily for us, though, we brought a deck of cards).  In the case of the Lit. Review, expect your best initial effort to be a draft, thoroughly critiqued by the Project or Thesis supervisor.  (I’ve been warned about this inevitability from my spouse and friends who survived the process, and “dog’s breakfast” as a comment is a recurring metaphor).

Twenty pages and eighty percent complete my Lit. Review, I’ve learned much from my journey. However, I find myself wishing it matched the timelines of my Robson Trek.  Eight-plus hours from parking lot to Berg Lake but likely closer to eight hundred hours from initial idea, to preparation, and multiple drafts – from  “dog’s breakfast” to the final draft — hopefully a decent meal by that stage!

The start and end point of the journey, boundary of Mount Robson Provincial Park. Image courtesy of Julie Griffiths at http://arborbnb.ca/mount-robson/

Organizing and Writing the Literature Review: Re-living a garage-sale puzzle purchase challenge

Structuring and writing the Literature Review of my M.Ed project is engaging, even enthralling, but also emotionally and intellectually draining. It demands tremendous amounts of time, concentration and tenacity – as well as copious quantities of coffee, wine, and Advil.

To date I’ve assembled a binder of scholarly and peer-reviewed articles that I have read, re-read, and highlighted key points. I’ve taken notes, attached them to the articles, and most recently, removed them, spreading them over a vast area of my living room floor, in exactly the location I choose to put together puzzles, in front of the comforting warmth of the gas fireplace.

I’ve long been a fan of puzzles, acquired mainly as gifts and at garage sale — and  I do tend to hoard my acquisitions!  Yet within this hoard, the puzzle I perhaps most appreciate is the Collection of Fish Decoys, a tableau of fishing  lures acquired at a spring garage sale for the bargain price of a twoonie. 





 The puzzle reminded me of my dad (an avid, lifelong fisherman), and I loved the colors, composition, and relative complexity despite only 500 pieces.  A bargain with hours of fun!  Yes, until I arrived to the final collection of pieces, discovering that two were missing completely.

As I look at the mess of papers layered across the floor, I realize that the process of putting together this puzzle resembles my own unique way of assembling my Literature Review — and most likely, the disappointment of being incomplete, a work-in-progress, even after hours invested in creating the 20-30 page draft.

But back to the past — and present situation.

Instead of organizing and tagging notes online with a citation tool like Mendeley or Reference Works, I’ve organized my notes physically and visually, the way I approached completing puzzles, sorting pieces that seem to be related in colors and shape.

The sorting process — first by frame edge, next by key images in the puzzle image, and finally by colors within each image – is time-consuming but

well worth the effort.  Initially, very little gets put together, but once the pieces are grouped, the puzzle takes shape quickly, and if not, it feels comforting to see patterns, a plan.

In the Literature Review, I applied a similar strategy.  I spread my copious pages of notes on the floor, looked for initial patterns, built a tentative, general outline from these patterns, revised the outline, then color-coded each part of the outline, assigning colors to the quotes and paraphrasing that fit each section.

Next, I sketched out a detailed outline for the first section, and wrote it in a single sitting. I repeated these steps for the second section.

And now I’m preparing to craft the missing pieces, like those I created for the fishing-lure puzzle. These were merely simple cardboard pieces, having matched the thickness of some spare cardboard to the puzzle, then glued matching shapes of white paper to each piece.  The final touch: soft-lead pencil crayons to carefully sketch the details of the missing images.

I enjoyed the challenge of making the pieces blend seamlessly, and my own personal artistic touch made this a ideal gift to present to my Dad – not only an avid fisherman but an avid doer of puzzles (is there a term for that?)

As I look at the final sections of my Lit. Review outline, I foresee filling in these sections with additional journal articles, and of course, more highlighting and note-taking.

I’m also reflecting that as much as I utilize a Personal Learning Network to gather ideas and strategies, my process at present, is very much my own, solitary method.  As helpful as PLNs can be for information-gathering,  the research process — mine at least — is  network of two, inclusive of me and my professor.  As one might imagine, my family and friends bear none of my unrestrained enthusiasm for Personal Learning Networks, Cybernetic modelling, Connectivism, among other conversation-stopping terms.

Wine tonight, coffee tomorrow morning, fresh eyes on the notes – but hopefully no Advil.

Living through the Literature Review: Bringing my Backpacking Basics to Graduate Research

Backpacking and graduate-level writing? Yes, in my experience, they indeed go together, step-by-step, from the planning to the process of completing the trek.

In particular, I’m thinking of a particularly arduous trek to Mount Robson Provincial Park circa 2004 with my spouse. We planned a rather ambitious four day trip to Berg Lake near the base of the glacier, two of those days inclusive of the hike in and the hike out. Total distance each way: approximately 22 kilometers from the parking lot to the Berg Lake Campground. Facilities? A two-person tent, vintage Optimus backpacker’s stove for cooking, and a distant outhouse. In case of torrential rain, a communal wood shelter half a kilometer away.

No surprise that this trek required extensive planning – selecting appropriate equipment for shelter and cooking, varied layers clothing in anticipation of unexpected mountain weather, and food light in weight yet calorie-intensive enough to sustain hours of climbing with heavy backpacks. Then there was the packing process – distributing supplies so that they fit comfortably and accommodated our strength (or in my case, lack of).  Finally, there were months of physical preparation was part of the planning. Our regimen: running 30-35 kilometers per week.

A plan for a perfect, problem-free trek?   Perfect in the sense of the unparalled beauty of the waterfalls, lake and mountain vistas. Problem-free in terms of preparation, yes.   In terms of process, no. As fit as I was for cardio and leg strength — the weight of a thirty-five pound pack caused pain and numbness in my upper body around the 10 ten mark. My spouse assumed an additional ten pounds of packweight so that I could enjoy the remaining trek in relative comfort. The power of teamwork!

Arriving at Berg Lake, we felt tired and sore, yet energetic enough to venture upon an 11 kilometer trip to Snowbird Pass the next day. On this trip, it was my strength and tenacity that led us to the summit – in terms of words of encouragement. My spouse suggested turning back on a number of occasions (who could blame him after carrying 80 plus pounds, inclusive of weight from my pack?).

I’ll never forget the panoramic mountain vistas – and I’ve always been glad we persisted despite the pain, because we’ve never since had the opportunity to return to Robson.

The hike downhill was less painful than the ascent, but I do recall blisters and extreme fatigue the last three kilometers. The only motivation: knowing I was in good company with someone who could relate fully – and the thought of the reward we’d enjoy – a hearty steak dinner at a local lodge.

Recalling this adventure has helped my put the planning and process of my Literature Review into perspective. Like the Robson trek, the lit. review is arduous physically and psychologically. Physically, I’m walking 8-10 kilometers daily, tracking my steps and distance on my Fitbit activity tracker. The daily exercise increases my energy, decreases my stress – both necessities for enduring hours and hours of reading scholarly journals and note-taking.   Given the weight of my Lit Review binder, I may be able to add weight-lifting to my fitness regimen!

Psychologically, being part of the M.Ed Fitbit group reminds me that I’m part of a team, beyond our weekly video conferences. We live in various cities across British Columbia, and even the few of us who live in the same city rarely have time or opportunity to meet. In the way my spouse took the weight from my backpack, weekly video conferences and chat with my colleagues, interactions on Twitter and virtual meeting on our Fitbit Hub helps to lessen a different kind of load – the tremendous cognitive load posed by a Literature Review.  Yes, this is me in second and third place for steps, distance and active minutes!

Therefore, my first piece of advice to anyone embarking on a Lit. Review – embrace your personal learning network – a community of individuals who can relate to the process you’re enduring.

In my case, my PLN includes my M.Ed cohort via formal learning in weekly meetings and Google Community sharing, my professor who shared examples of Lit. reviews and facilitated group discussions to make sense of them.   My PLN also includes informal learning in our Fitbit hub and #tiegrad Twitter space, colleagues at my school currently working on their M.Eds, and who have provided valuable advice about gathering and curating research, and my family, who understands the stress and mess of my learning journey.

My second piece of advice: thorough preparation and expect the unexpected. There are no shortcuts in planning an extensive backpacking trip, just as there are no shortcuts in planning the literature review.

The first step in my process, and months of planning: selecting a topic, selecting and experimenting with a range of search terms and databases, meeting with a university librarian, then gathering scholarly and peer-reviewed journal articles.

The next step and two months of preparation: carefully curating and organizing my research. My curation method: print relevant articles, read for understanding, re-read and highlight key ideas and findings, take 1-2 pages of point-form notes according to a standard framework: purpose and scope, key concepts/definitions, main arguments, methodology of study, findings, limitations of study, and personal reflections.   Organize sources into working reference list, then sort articles with notes by year first, then alphabetically next.  Here’s photographic evidence of my efforts. Could be useful for weight-lifting in preparation for my next backpacking adventure!

The final step – with only weeks to complete it – composing and outline, sorting sources by parts the outline, and writing a 25-30 page Literature Review.   Like the final three kilometers leaving Mt. Robson, it’s going to be painful, despite ongoing and meticulous preparation. It’s also going to be worth the pain – the feeling of accomplishment will be a reward in itself. However, I wouldn’t mind celebrating a fabulous steak dinner with my spouse, just as we did after our Mt. Robson adventure!

Re-thinking the “M” and “C” in MOOC — Web 2.0 MOOC Learnings – Weeks 4 & 5

The Networked Teacher — graphic created by Dr. Alec Couros, The University of Regina

As I finished the final weeks of my first Massive Open Online Course through the University of Houston, I found myself thinking less about the material and more about the concept of a “course.”

The Oxford English Dictionary supplies several applicable definitions: “a series of lectures or lessons in a particular subject, leading to an examination or qualification” and “the way in which something progresses or develops.”

From these perspectives, I’ll discuss the content and structure of the MOOC, but more significantly, the process of my learning in an online environment.

The course structure followed a specific pattern for the first three weeks: brief introductory videos, a set of readings, five-point multiple choice quiz on the material, an activity focused around one of the course concepts — community, collaboration, and creativity — a forum discussion, an anecdotal self-report, and an optional Google Hangout each Friday morning.   All unit work was due by 9:59 Pacific Standard Time each Saturday, with fifty percent deductions for late submissions.

Activities prompted learners to ponder an instructional issue in their classes related to community, collaboration, and creativity, choose one of the Web 2.0 tools to address this issue, then post an evaluation of the tool in written or multimedia format on the forums. Forums were organized by grade level – elementary, middle school, high school and post-secondary.

The fourth week included a mini-action research project, and the fifth, a unit about sustaining a Personal Learning Network, including compulsory peer assessments of action research projects.

I’m pleased to have achieved the highest qualification for the course – completing a certificate with distinction standing, although my greatest learning what not about what I learned – but how I learned and what motivated me throughout the five weeks. In truth, I possessed a fairly solid base of knowledge about Web 2.0 tools prior to this MOOC; although I learned about some new possibilities, and implemented a few in my classes, the best takeaways included structure, a global community, and opportunities for collaboration.    That is, the learning of the MOOC itself posed value – yet the process of learning most resonated.

On March 5, 2015, Dave Cormier of the University of Prince Edward Island spoke to my Master’s of Education (M.Ed) cohort about MOOCs and online learning . He offered some insight to the history of MOOCs and challenged my group to think about their place in online learning.   Although I possess limited experience with MOOCs from a theoretical and practical perspective, to date, I do perceive that MOOCs are not an end unto themselves, but really one piece in the PLN.

Professors and guest speakers have spoken about the limitations of MOOCs – most are offered in the English language and the demographic of participants tends to include those who hold diplomas and degrees. From an expert perspective, MOOCs are not as democratizing as intended. From my less-experienced perspective, a MOOC cannot be all things to all learners; with a potential audience of thousands, learners are likely to have wide range of prior knowledge. In this MOOC experience, my prior knowledge of Web 2.0 was fairly high, and thus the course material was relatively easy to absorb.

Advantages of MOOCs, as I perceive them to date, include a wide range of learning choices, structured learning, and opportunities to connect with people globally.

Coursera is one platform that offers a wide range of post-secondary online course selections for free – unless a learner opts for signature-track verification and a printed certificate of completion. I choose the Web 2.0 MOOC from this platform. I’m not certain how other courses are structured, but I imagine that easily-completed/graded and self-paced assessments must be part of most frameworks. In this MOOC, quizzes could be re-taken up to three times, and self-reports included brief, anecdotal reportings with full marks awarded for completion. Peer assessments were mandatory; in fact, three in total were required to receive a mark for the action research project, worth fifty percent of the course.

The community and collaboration principles around which Web 2.0 were organized certainly reflected the value of the course. The most useful tool I learned about came not from the university’s list of tools, but from a teacher in Italy. I greatly appreciated her suggestion of Titan Pad as an alternative to Primary Pad which I’d been evaluating as a collaboration tool.

In turn, I provided detailed feedback to peers regarding their action-research projects. Beyond the objective, point-centered assessment, I provided 200-300 words of feedback, inclusive of acknowledgements and suggestions, even there was no requirement to respond anecdotally. The second most rewarding and engaging process was receiving anecdotal feedback about my mini-inquiry project. Am I looking forward to receiving the certificate of completion with distinction! Yes! But really, this end point represents a distant third in significance as to what motivated me to do my best work.

Disadvantages? The course framework didn’t lend itself to creativity, partly due to strict deadlines for each unit’s work. I’d expected a bit more flexibility around assignment completion – I know from colleagues that some MOOCs require evidence of completion by the end of the course, rather than weekly due dates. With a flu-induced temperature of 102 degrees one weekend, I indeed worked feverishly to complete an assignment by 9:59 PST, and had to resign myself to how I work most quickly – written rather than multimedia representation.

Dave Cormier’s presentation to my M.Ed cohort best captures my understanding of the learning process in an online setting. Cormier asserted that learning isn’t a simple dichotomy of “online” or “in-person”; the principles of learning effectively in person apply to an online environment – whether it’s a MOOC or more informal virtual learning network.   These principles include shared interests, provision for “people creating their own maps” of learning goals, and deconstructing curriculum to facilitate creativity.

Assessment against these principles isn’t grade-oriented, but built instead upon how hard individuals are working to create these maps, and how far they travel in their learning journey.

It’s difficult for me to put these ideas in context of the high-school setting in which I teach, but as a student of learning theory and pedagogy in my M.Ed journey, I do understand that learning, as a professional, is about community and collaboration – really creating and contributing to the PLN. A MOOC may be one part of this framework or it may not for others.

If I could re-frame the MOOC moniker, I’d replaced “course” with community and perhaps add an “L” for learning – creating the rather euphonic-sounding “MOOCL.”   To me, a MOOC isn’t about the place or space but the process of learning with others – whether in-person as in my professional book club or an online space – whether formal or informal. I’d also re-place “massive” with “meaningful.” Hence my choice of graphic, created by Dr. Alec Couros and presented in the University of Houston Web 2.0 MOOC as a way of understanding the many facets of a PLN.

Still, however, my ideas apply only to a professional expanding his or her learning as a professional. To what extent — if any — can a meaningful, open, online learning community be transferable to a K-12 environment? Potentially a subject of a future postcard reflection!

Postcard Reflection #2: Conceptualizing “curriculum” — to myself as a beginning M.Ed student one year ago

This postcard reflection is inspired by a talk given by Dave Cormier, EdTechTalk and Educative contributor, and self-proclaimed “rhizomatic learner” from the University of Prince Edward Island. Via video conference, Cormier spoke to my Master’s of Education cohort about curriculum, challenging us to think about how it is created, delivered, and assessed.

Prior to beginning the M.Ed, I thought of curriculum as the Ministry of Education’s prescribed learning outcomes for the courses I teach, as well as in terms of the broader goals embedded across courses areas — social justice, active citizenship to name a few. However, the more I’ve delved into Inquiry-Based Learning and my M.Ed learning, I’ve come to appreciate students as content creators — and creativity/innovation as a central purpose of education — and in this regard, I agree with Cormier’s assertion that “the purpose of education is creativity.”  I also agree that deconstructing curriculum — as currently written in Ministry of Education documents — may promote creativity and shift greater emphasis upon how hard students are working, and how far they’re progressing individually.

I concur from experience as both a student and a teacher.  In my graduate Diploma and M.Ed programs, I’ve  learned more about teaching through inquiry-based curriculum designs than I ever did through conventional, outcome-based undergraduate teaching-education courses twenty years ago.  As a teacher re-designing  unit-based courses in Senior Humanities to Inquiry-question based courses, I’ve seen more student self-regulation, evidence of deep understanding of core concepts, and effort in learning above and beyond anything I could have assigned in a conventional project.

Why?  I’ll cite Cormier’s discussion of  “the nexus of caring”   and “learners creating their own maps” through community.  This approach to curriculum is termed “rhizomatic learning,” a learning theory closely associated with distributed-content courses such as Massive Open Online Education Courses (MOOCs),  a theory one can learn about through open courses (e.g. the Open University) or through blogs authored by educational thought leaders such as Cormier.

Why not?  I’m less certain about the degree of deconstruction that can be supported within the existing educational framework — at least as it exists in British Columbia, 2015. Although 21st century learning is espoused by B.C.’s Education Plan, provincial exams frame core grade 10-12 subjects. Multiple-choice exams limit teachers and students from exploring subjects in an inquiry-based design, except in very limited ways. Units can indeed be framed around broader understandings —  whether one thinks of these as Inquiry-Based Learning, Project-Based Learning, Problem-Based Learning, or Understanding Backward Design (UbD).  Nevertheless, at semester’s end, the marks students achieve on a multiple choice test determine milestones time-honored by parents and students:  grades, Honor Roll standing and scholarships.

Even without provincial exams, what about students entering post-secondary? Will an inquiry-based, interdisciplinary approach  adopted for Geography 12 last semester be adequate to help those entering first-year Geography Studies? Really, this is a rhetorical question as my teaching partner and I know that the research, critical thinking skills and emphasis upon creativity in the problem-solving and presentation phases afforded rich and transferable learning.

Nevertheless, although considered a “science” by B.C. universities, Geography 12 does not require certain foundational knowledge and computational skills in the way that Chemistry and Physics necessitate. How can teachers of these core sciences balance the “must know” foundational skills with broader, inquiry-based goals?  Inquiry-based learning and content certainly aren’t mutually exclusive, yet the time required for a rich inquiry-based learning project often precludes covering the fine content-oriented details of particular units.

Even with decades of provincial exams,  teaching has been and will always be rhizomatic  in the sense that teachers create their own maps around existing curriculum documents.  Such maps, however, are far more challenging to create in a high school settings increasingly inclusive of  hybrid courses — iterations and combinations far beyond Humanities 9 and 12 which aren’t new.   I’m witnessing French 9-12 combined in a single block and class, English 11 with English 12, and Geography 12 with Comparative Civilizations and Sustainability 11 among rumours of other possible combinations.

Although many teachers  have embraced interdisciplinary, cyclical learning projects, and inquiry-based design for many year, and know that such learning designs pose tremendous opportunities for fostering creativity and innovation — new iterations of combination courses pose tremendous stress and uncertainly for teachers charged with delivering a structured, course-specific, outcome -based curriculum mandated by the Ministry of Education assessed by a decades-old grading and percentage hierarchy.

Although I plan to explore rhizomatic learning and UbL through informal learning on my own and through District-sponsored workshops,  I’m uncertain how these fit with Inquiry-based learning, and even more so, how they harmonize with the existing curriculum documents in British Columbia amidst changing course structures in high schools.

What is the nexus among these different conceptualizations of curriculum?  This is a question I will ponder along with many of my teaching colleagues at my workplace  and within my M.Ed cohort.  Hence the choice of images for my postcard:  the cover of the well-known “Choose Your Own Adventure” books, popular during my childhood  in the 1980s and a blog post depicting a map from the Great Journey West Documentary (2002) of Lewis and Clark.  If the purpose of education is creativity and uncertainty — as Cormier asserts — perhaps this unknown path is as apt for teachers as it is for students.

21st century curriculum? Nexus unknown; known and foreseeable paths — many possibilities

Postcard Reflection #1: To myself as a beginning teacher from myself as an experienced teacher — and student! Is “joy” in learning essential? Yes!

My first attempt at brevity in blogging . . .ummm. . . “microblogging” technically speaking. A little more than Twitter, much less than my typical 1200-words-plus posts.

My chosen format:  a postcard.

Why?  several reasons:

– my successive reflections will focus on setting — classroom setting — and my story within that setting.  What better medium than a postcard to showcase setting and its significance?

– a postcard tells a story — and since I’ve been learning about difference approaches to digital storytelling, it’s an apt format.

– the small area of a postcard will force me to distill my previous week’s learnings into the essential elements focusing upon a key theme.  This week’s theme:  what is the goal of learning?  Should it be rigor?  Joy? or something else

– clarity with visuals:  I’m banking on the saying, ” A picture is worth a thousand words.”

– mental fatigue:  At the end of some teaching days, I lack the acuity to formulate an articulate post with which I’m satisfied.  The English teacher in me is a harsh self-critic.

– engagement: o.k. — straight-out fun!  I enjoy expressing myself creatively — and hope that anyone reading my posts will enjoy or at least appreciate my efforts.

– knowing that “less is more” sometimes.  One of my profs has encouraged my cohort to microblog.  I feel that I have permission to say less!

The context:

I’m taking a course related to open and online learning in my Master’s of Education Program while engaging in Professional development activities related to Inquiry Learning, and most recently Backwards Design (to be the topic of postcard #2).    Current learnings prompt me to reflect on how I’ve developed as a teacher over two decades — and what I wish I’d been able to implement at this time.

My first epiphanies:  

These images represent my classroom setting in 2015 — community-oriented, collaborative, and creative — in  face-to-face  and online settings.  Twenty years ago — it was rows only.  Online meant word processing — email was an emerging communication when I began teaching.  The internet — a few years later.  Yes, my age (or rather, “experience,”)  is showing.

Second, I no longer ascribe to the “official learning theory” — and I’m certain that “rigor” appeared on more than one of my course outlines.  Although I never intended to follow the exact denotation of the word — I wonder what kind of tone and expectations it set for my students?    For anyone wondering about official learning theory vs. classical learning theory, this chart is useful.

Following my learning in an online session led by Dean Shareski,  I know what I think, how I’ve best taught over the years, and how I know students best learn, based on the attributes I see that represent “joy,” or for anyone preferring a less warm-and-fuzzy terminology, “classical learning theory.

If I could mail myself a postcard back in time, it would look like this — but populated with my present students, sharing ideas across the classroom — engaged, enthused, and excited about learning — and truly absorbing the essential ideas of the courses.

For any beginning teacher, I’d say this:  work hard, prepare thoroughly, but allow your students — and yourself — to enjoy learning.  Journey on some tangents, allow your lessons to morph from lesson and unit structures, foster an inquiry-based approach, embrace questions.    Joy in learning = joy in teaching!



Tulip Fields, Technology and the Teaching of Creativity: Web 2.0 MOOC learnings – Week 3

shared by AsapScience, Feb. 26, 2015 via Facebook

This post is inspired by a Facebook post depicting a striking aerial view of tulip fields in the Netherlands – an apt metaphor for my learnings about creativity and Web 2.0 tools in my most recent MOOC unit from the University of Houston. This image inspired me to learn more about Dutch polders and engineering – and any other factors that made these stunning fields a surprising reality for a most unlikely location.

From March through May, the Dutch countryside transforms into a technicolor quilt of patterns – well documented in this Flickr album Flying Over the Tulip Fields, and French photographer Norman Szkop’s Aerial Photographs of Dutch Tulip fields in Springtime.These vast fields , termed polders, exist because the Dutch reclaimed extensive tracts of land from the sea, flood plains and marshes using a range of technologies for flood control in the Netherlands, including dikes, dams, floodgates, and pumping stations, historically windmills. The English saying “God created the world but the Dutch created Holland” is certainly apt; the Netherlands is a created environment –made possible by creativity.

What is creativity, however? And what are the essential ingredients? Documents from the World Innovation Summit on Education (WISE) shared in this week’s MOOC module assert several principles that connect Dutch tulip fields, technology in education, and the foundations of creativity.

• “Creativity and innovation are primarily social and cultural, rather than purely psychological.”
• “Communities rather than individuals are the basic unit of sustained innovation.”
• “The strongest innovations grow through iterations in many different settings where they develop through facing different tests.”
• “Technology can be harnessed as part of the creative solution.”

In context of the classroom, the first and third principles suggests that setting stimulates creativity. In the Netherlands, the geographical realities necessitated creative solutions to flooding; in the classroom, teachers must consciously create a classroom setting that necessitates creative problem-solving.

The second, third, and fourth principles highlight three elements of a setting that stimulate creativity: community, ongoing problem-solving/innovation, and the application of technology. Dutch polders are not only  representational of world-class engineering ingenuity from the 16^th to 21^st century, but also of an enduring technological issue that requires ongoing re-evaluation. In the blog Polders, Scene of Land and Water, the author raises these questions: To what extent are polders a sustainable form of land reclamation? What kinds of different technologies will be necessary to employ?  Applied to an educational setting, the questions are parallel:   “To what extent are existing and emerging Web 2.0 technologies sustainable?  What kinds of Web 2.0 technologies are necessary for students to employ for creativity?

The International Academy of Education’s (IAE) Nurturing Creative Thinking publication highlighted in this week’s MOOC readings outlines many practical strategies for addressing the principles of creativity, without highlighting specific Web 2.0 technologies.

• Create opportunities for cross-curricular activities.
• Create well-designed learning spaces.
• Focus upon the thoughts and experiences of the students by asking open-ended questions.
• Create a balance between oracy (dialogue and argument) and literacy (written texts and online sources).
• Create opportunities for students to collaborate with peers – face-to-face and virtually.
• Incorporating elements of structure, continuous encouragement and facilitation in collaborative scenarios.
• Create “meaningful and authentic activities that fit their personal interests and abilities, and are also intellectually challenging.”
• Ensure that the creative thinking process extends to all students, allowing them to express their multiple intelligences and interests.
• Make efficient use of educational technologies such as social media.

Which Web 2.0 tools will establish a setting that stimulates student creativity in all of these ways?  Choices will depend upon many variables – teaching context, personal fluency, familiarity and comfort with Web 2.0 tools, grade level, availability of technology in the school setting, among additional factors. In my own context, facilitating inquiry-based learning in multidisciplinary high school courses is challenging when working with teaching colleagues who are unfamiliar with – and perhaps unconvinced of — the connections among Web 2.0 technologies, creativity, collaboration and community-building.

To address these challenges, I’ve begun with well-known Web 2.0 tools that fulfill represent multiple strategies as outlined by he IAE. Blogs and wikis, for example, are a soft-sell to colleagues as they promote multiple learning outcomes in communication, collaboration in a visible and structured framework. For students, these platforms provide voice and choice – a personalized means of self-expression through written and multimedia expression.  Blogs and wikis are also free online tools, available in many intuitive platforms requiring no special technical expertise or prior experience.

However, I’ve also accepted my teaching partners’ wishes not to apply Web 2.0 technologies for certain learning activities, and indeed non-technological strategies provide powerful opportunities for stimulating creativity. As an example, one of my colleagues re-arranged the chairs in his classroom in a circle. His goal is increased face-to-face communication among students whom he believes spend too much time with computers and cell phones.   This concentric arrangement is having the desired impact building both community and collaboration, and indeed, a well-designed physical learning space  has the potential to stimulate creativity.

The wide variety of free Web 2.0 tools can can be overwhelming for many educators – even for those possessing a high degree of familiarity and fluency.  A steady stream of emerging apps and online applications may prompt even the most seasoned user of technology to question his or her application of existing tools and feel the pressure to try the latest offerings.

However, perhaps the essential questions educators pose about the roles of Web 2.0 tools and creativity should be modeled upon the kinds of questions the Dutch are posing about their polders – questions focused upon sustainability and future needs.     The basic premises of this week’s MOOC unit are undeniable: “encouraging and inculcating creative techniques is one of the most critical aspects of learning and growth in education especially in this digital age” and Web 2.0 tools are an essential means towards this learning goal.  Therefore, questions must be predicated not upon “if” Web 2.0 tools facilitate creativity,  but “what”, “how” and “to what extent” for a particular learning context.