Stager takes the Stage
The main keynote on the Friday of ACEC 2010 was Gary Stager, a man who has a reputation for calling a spade a "bloody shovel". He did a morning keynote, as well as a "soapbox" session in the main hall where he held court and treated anyone who would listen to the world according to Stager.
I'm not totally sure what to make of Gary Stager. I heard him speak for the first time at ULearn last year and I was pretty impressed by what he had to say. That probably shouldn't sound so surprising since the guy has a long history of working with schools to do some pretty innovative and constructivist things. He was a consultant at MLC Melbourne, Australia's (and the world's) first 1-1 laptop school. He was a student and personal friend of Professor Seymour Papert, in my opinion one of the world's most influential educational thinkers. And he has some really forceful opinions about what works and what doesn't work in education. I admire his intensity and his conviction.
This intensity and conviction can sometime comes across with a high and mighty arrogance though, and his talks can sometimes feel like being bludgeoned with a blunt axe. There is often a sense of sensationalism in the things he says, and there is rarely any gray between his black and white viewpoints. He seems to have a handful of things he feels really passionate about and is like a dog with a bone in promulgating them, often to the exclusion of everything else.
On the one hand, it's a good thing because it is confronting and makes you think about the issues. Although his arrogant approach tends to piss people off a bit, sometimes people need a bit of pissing off to force them into getting off the fence and taking a side. A keynote speaker probably should be a bit confronting and prod people with ideas that force them to think and evaluate things that perhaps they haven't thought much about. In that sense, he does a great job.
On the other hand, some of his sweeping black and white statements can be very dismissive, even outright rude. If something is not part of Gary's world view, he tends to sweep it aside and treat it with absolute contempt. At ACEC especially, he was very vocal about any idea that didn't fit with his version of how education should work. It gets a little tedious after a while, and you end up feeling gloom, doom and a sense of hopelessness about, well, almost everything. Name a topic outside of Lego or programming, and it's likely that Gary will dissect it and strip it to pieces, telling you why it's rubbish and is counterproductive to education. It really is a bit wearing after a while. I came away from his keynote feeling like nothing we are doing at school is any good at all (which is nonsense of course).
I like many of the things Stager has to say, and I think he has some powerful insights. I totally agree that there are many things about school that need to be rethought and reinvented. He's right about a lot of things, but he also seems pretty narrow minded about a whole lot of others. He spins a good conspiracy theory, and clearly hates certain technologies, especially IWBs. But he also chooses examples that highlight the poorest possible uses of these technologies and then holds those up as some sort of "best practice" to be critical of. Sure, it's easy to be critical of something being used poorly, but that doesn't mean that the thing itself is bad, just that the given example is one of it being used badly. One could probably find poor examples of 1-1 laptop usage, poor examples of students working with programming and so on.
I could cite an example of almost any technology being used poorly and an equal number of examples of it being used really well. Like Gary, I also see the enormous value of learning with constructivist tools like Lego, the value of students learning to program, the value of students learning about computing science. But I also believe that there is room for a wide range of technologies for learning. There is no one single answer, no single technology for helping kids learn.
There is always room for a bit of open-mindedness in education.
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PS: I just noticed that @Steve-Collis has posted the UStream video of Gary's keynote, so here it is if you'd like to take a peek. Thanks Steve for recording it, and thanks Gary for allowing it to be recorded.
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Breaking the Cycle
I often ponder why systemic change is so hard to make happen in education. Systemic change (and by that I mean not just change from a handful of scattered individuals but an all-in buy-in to create change right across a school system) is never easy, but it seems to happen with far less resistance in fields outside of education. Schools just seem extra hard to shift.
I'm pretty optimistic about the positive effects that technology can bring to education. I really do believe that the school experience for both teachers and students can be made richer and more meaningful with the wise use of technology. Not just technology for technology's sake, but by making intelligent decisions about what and how our students learn and supporting that learning with appropriate technologies. I've never seen technology as an add-on, or just another thing that teachers need to somehow squeeze into their day, but rather as a deeply embedded set of tools, methodologies and skillsets that students should acquire in order to help them deal with the ongoing process of learning.
Students are, or at least should be, seen as "knowledge workers" in the truest sense of the term. They spend 13 years at school essentially learning, manipulating, constructing and deconstructing knowledge. Their "job" as a student is to create information products, and that could mean anything from conducting research and writing essays, through to creating sophisticated information products like multimedia presentations, collaborative group projects and persuasive written work. Unlike students in the past, today's students need to develop fluency in not just textual literacy, but also in the multiliteracies of new media, multimedia and social media. They need to develop the skills of taking information from multiple sources and turning it into usable knowledge. In the process of doing this they need to learn important things like how to express ideas clearly, how to influence an audience, how to work in teams, how to learn on demand, how to communicate, and so on.
In essence, none of this is all that new, and good teachers have always done these sorts of things with their students. But pervasive digital technology has an important role to play in how it happens. Take the research process for example. Asking students to research a topic is fundamental to what happens in most classrooms and most teachers have always included the requirement for research in the learning tasks they set. But digital technology opens up many new possibilities for how a student might tackle the research process. Use of live streams, real-time information, geotagged data, RSS feeds, socialgraph feeds, even advanced Googling, may all just be new ways to perform the age-old process of research, but if a teacher lacks basic fluency in these new tools themselves then how on earth can they help their students develop those skills. In my experience, most teachers have very little idea about most of these things, but don't take my word for it. Do your own poll... pick a random group of 20 teachers and ask them what they know about these things. I suspect the answer will be very few.
It worries me that so many teachers seems so woefully ill-equipped to provide these understandings for their students, but they simply can't provide what they don't have. I know a lot of wonderful, dedicated, well-meaning teachers who care deeply for their students, but the gap, technologically speaking, between what those students need and what their teachers are actually able to provide seems to be widening.
Before you flame me for making such a comment, can I make clear what I'm not saying. I'm not saying that these people are bad teachers. But I do think that the landscape of learning has experienced some deep and fundamental shifts in the last few years that many teachers have yet to even acknowledge, let alone adapt to.
In some cases, success can be the enemy of change. I once suggested to a very good teacher that there were a number of ways that technology could be used to enrich her lessons. Her reply was that every single one of her students achieved Band 6 results in the HSC (for those outside NSW, that's about as good as you can get), so why should she change anything? Trying to convince this teacher that technology might make the learning more engaging, more interesting, more rewarding was falling on deaf ears. By her standards the students were as successful as they could possibly be, so why mess with something that was obviously working? That's a hard argument to win, and makes it very difficult to convince someone to change what they do.
The other thing that makes it incredibly difficult to create systemic change in education is the "revolving door" nature of school. We all know what school looks like and how it works, because we all went to one. So when someone decides to become a teacher, it's usually right after spending 13 years in a school as a student, then spending 4 years at teachers college and then going right back into the same environment they just left a few years earlier. Of course they know what school is like! They probably feel like they've never left it. Whatever they might learn in teachers college has to fight for attention against the 13 years of day-in and day-out seeing their own teachers model what it means to "be a teacher". Even their lecturers at teachers college often come from a similar experience. It's incredibly hard to break the cycle. Education needs significant change and new approaches, but it's damn difficult to make that change happen when the steady stream of new teachers are just recycled students who feel like they already know what they need to know in order to be a teacher.
I've done a little bit of work with pre-service undergrad teachers, and to be honest I was quite shocked at their general level of apathy about the role that technology might play in their lives as future teachers. Not all of them mind you... there have been some good ones, but the number who openly admit to disliking technology or not relating to technology or not being interested in technology just scares me. These people will be going into classrooms as teachers in the next few years, and instead of being the much-needed catalyst for systemic change, many of them will just fall into the same old establishment that they experienced themselves during their own school life. No wonder it's so hard to make the shift happen!
Let me finish with a story. I was having lunch in a little café in Newtown a while back, and when the waitress came with the bill at the end of the meal I paid for it with my Teachers Credit Union credit card. When she looked at the card she remarked on it and asked me if I was a teacher. I told her yes, and she asked what I taught. I told her that was a technology integrator, to which she asked "What's that?"
I meet lots of people who have never heard of a technology integrator, so I replied with my standard answer. "I go into classrooms and work with students and teachers to help them use technology in more meaningful ways."
"Really?" she said. "I'm in third year at teachers college, and I've never heard of anything like that. So do kids use computers in schools much? Is technology, like, important?"
Third year teachers college. "Is technology, like, important?" This woman could be teaching your child in the next few years. OMG.
I'm sorry if I seem crotchety and snarky about this, but to me, this is just not good enough. How on earth will we ever break this cycle? We keep getting technologically clueless teachers incubating the next generation of technologically clueless teachers, and so on. We live in a world that is changing so rapidly, but the teaching profession seems to be stuck in some sort of endless Groundhog Day loop.
Image: 'Magic Revolving Door'
http://www.flickr.com/photos/32916905@N05/3074941476

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VSR 32: Be Very Afraid
In this new episode of the Virtual Staffroom podcast I have the great pleasure of enjoying a casual chat with the enigmatic Professor Stephen Heppell. With a story for just about every occasion, Stephen is a absolute mine of great insights and perspectives about the future of education.
Be Very Afraid is one of Stephen’s many educational projects. It brings together students from all over the UK to showcase some incredible ICT related projects. There is some truly amazing learning taking place here. In this episode we get to hear some of the backstory to BVA as well as a few of Stephen’s personal insights about it.
We finish with a chat about education in general and some really wonderful insights into getting the best from our students.
PS: As usual this recording is posted over at the Virtual Staffroom site, but I'm going to start crossposting them here too, just to make them a little simpler to access.
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Podcast: Play in new window | Download (Duration: 50:18 — 29.9MB)
Life is Risky
Silly me. I was mowing the lawn the other day and I stupidly managed to get my big toe caught in the mower blade while it was running at full speed. The blades ripped right through my shoe and mangled the tip of my big toe. Needless to say, it really hurt! I was home on my own, and had to figure out what to do next... there was blood going all over the place, I felt myself going into shock, as I tried to figure out how to get myself to a doctor. It was not a lot of fun. The good news is that despite smashing my toenail off and slicing the end of my big toe, it could have been a hell of a lot worse. Fortunately, the bone was not broken and I still have all my toes so apart from a bit of pain and inconvenience I think I'm pretty lucky.
It highlighted to me - in a very real way - that lawnmowers are bloody dangerous things! With their sharp, rapidly rotating blades, they are obviously capable of doing some real damage to the human body. Naturally, I never intended to get my toe in the way of the blades, but it happened regardless.
So I ask the question... are lawnmowers simply too damn dangerous? Does having an accident like this mean I should get rid of the mower and never mow the lawn again? Should I be campaigning for all mowers to be banned, as I am now clearly able to prove that they are dangerous things capable of causing serious injury. Should my local council be stepping in and confiscating the lawnmowers of my neighbours in order to ensure that nobody else can ever have a similar accident?
The answer to the these questions is obviously no. While mowing your lawn can be a potentially dangerous activity, full of inherent risks and sharp rotating blades, it's still something that needs to be done, and is done, by people all over the world every weekend. Of course, mower manufacturers do what they can to limit the risks; the rotor is covered by a large protective guard so the blades are not directly exposed to fingers and toes. Within reason, lawnmowers are designed to be as safe as possible, but no design is 100% failsafe. There are still significant risks, in fact over 60,000 people are injured by lawnmowers each year in the US alone, and many of these injuries result in amputation. With such obvious dangers posed by lawnmowers, I can only assume that people must enjoy the value of having a nice looking lawn more than they are worried about the risks of using a mower to get one.
I'm pondering these ideas and thinking how they apply to the way most schools treat potential risks for their students. While educators have a clear duty-of-care obligation to protect our students, we also have to balance that with the need to allow them to learn and to grow and to have opportunities. Without being given a chance to fail and to make mistakes, they are missing valuable opportunities to learn from those mistakes. I think there has to be a balance between exposing them to risks and providing them with responsibilities.
Clearly, if the risk is a physical one that could cause genuine harm, injury or even death, then we need to err on the side of caution. If a student is likely to be injured or hurt then, yes, we probably need to place greater emphasis on protecting them from risk than providing a learning opportunity. But if the risks are minimal, statistically unlikely, or have a relatively minor negative impact, then I think we should be encouraging our students to take a few risks and benefit from the possible opportunities. You can't live a life where you let the potential risks override the potential opportunities; if you do you'll miss far too many wonderful opportunities.
I got thinking about this as I read through the comments on my previous post. That post was about treating students with enough trust and respect to assume they will make good decisions for themselves if we provide them with enough opportunities to do so, and I finished that post by asking the question "What's the worst thing that could happen?" A couple of commenters pointed out that bad things certainly COULD happen if we don't protect our students, and so we should continue protecting them by filtering, blocking and limiting access to web content that might be seen as "bad". As usual, the discussion revolved around the "what if we get sued for letting our children see/do/experience things that aren't 'safe'?" line of reasoning. While I agree we need to keep kids safe, I think that this the wrong reason for wanting to do it. Deciding what we will or won't do based on whether we might get sued for it is simply an awful way to go through life.
You know what? We can try to protect ourselves from risk for the rest of our lives. We can avoid doing anything remotely dangerous, just in case we get hurt. We can wrap ourselves in cotton wool, cloistering ourselves away from anything we might find bad, distasteful, dangerous, offensive or disagreeable. We can live a life where we reduce all potential risk by avoiding all potential dangers, but in the process we miss far too many potential opportunities and I'd question whether that's really actually living.
Many years ago I read the following poem by Kent M Keith that very much struck a chord with me. I think it nicely captures what I've been trying to say in this post...
- People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered. Love them anyway.
- If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish ulterior motives. Do good anyway.
- If you are successful, you win false friends and true enemies. Succeed anyway.
- The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway.
- Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable. Be honest and frank anyway.
- The biggest men and women with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men and women with the smallest minds. Think big anyway.
- People favor underdogs but follow only top dogs. Fight for a few underdogs anyway.
- What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight. Build anyway.
- People really need help but may attack you if you do help them. Help people anyway.
- Give the world the best you have and you'll get kicked in the teeth. Give the world the best you have anyway.
Oh, and I'd probably add number 11. Mowers are dangerous. Mow the lawn anyway.
I think we owe it to ourselves - and our students - to create a life of true significance, where we decide to do things because they make our lives richer and more meaningful. It's a very sad state of affairs when we start deciding what we will allow into our lives based on whether we might get hurt or offended or sued.
Yes, life is risky. Live it anyway.
Image Credit: Chris Betcher - CC BY-SA-NC
http://www.flickr.com/photos/betchaboy/4374316167/

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A Policy of Trust and Respect
I'm a huge believer in the notion of trust and respect as the primary drivers in the relationship between student and teacher. People have occasionally told me that I'm just incredibly naive about this, but all I can talk from is my own experience, and in my own experience, building relationships of trust, respect and genuine care between student and teacher is the foundation upon which all "policy" rests on in my classroom. I realise that school administrators will feel a need for something a little more concrete than this, but any policies, AUPs or guidelines that aren't based on this first rule are simply not sustainable in my view.
Take blocking and filtering for example. While school boards have the best of intentions for protecting students when they block access to web 2.0 tools and other social technologies, such policies fail the trust and respect test, because they start with an assumption that bestows upon the students neither trust nor respect.
Or what about when a school tells students that their mobile phones will be confiscated if seen? Again, this approach treats students with neither trust nor respect.
Forcing students to complete work that appears meaningless to them, asking them to remember facts that seem unconnected or pointless, again treats kids with neither trust nor respect.
So, yes, when policy makers make policies, I believe they need to think about it in terms of providing an environment of trust and respect first, and then expecting students to work within guidelines that honour that trust and respect that they have been offered.
For example, having a mobile phone in school or in class is not really a problem if it's use is bound by behaviour that treats the student with the trust to know when and how to use it the correct way, and the respect to assume that they will. Instead of jumping up and down and reading them the riot act if we so much as even see their cell phone, perhaps we need to expect that they are welcome to carry one as long as it doesn't get used inappropriately... after all, isn't that how most adults would wish to be treated? Imagine if schools confiscated cell phones from teachers.There would be an outcry and a resounding "Don't they trust us to do the
right thing?!" from staff, as they felt a sense of violation at their employers assumption that phones would be used inappropriately. As teachers, we would feel as though we were not trusted, we were not respected, and that our ability to make sound decisions was in question before we'd even done anything wrong. I have never seen an employer make those sorts of draconian rules for their employees, but I hear about it happening from schools all the time with regard to their students. I can only imagine how untrusted and unrespected our students must feel when placed in a similar situation. I'm not suggesting that that school policy should be a free-for-all where kids just do whatever they want. Far from it. I do however think that kids should be given the opportunity to prove they can do the "right thing" before we set up policies that automatically assume they won't.
I see the same sorts of thinking when it comes to Internet access policies. Blocking access to the web becomes far less necessary if we begin with a fundamental assumption of trust that our students will do the right thing, backed up with the respect that they are capable and able to make those decisions for themselves. Instead of assuming the worst, how much better would the environment we create in our schools be if they were based on trust, respect, and a belief that students want to do the right thing if given the chance.
I really do believe that we get what we expect. As long as we create environments that are based on the expectation that students will do the wrong thing, they probably will. Funnily enough, if we start to create environments where we expect our students to do the right thing, they will usually do that too. They will give us whatever we expect from them, but mostly, school policies are set up to expect the worst.
Seriously, what's the worst thing that could happen if we created an environment of trust and respect?
Image: 'James,
I think your cover's blown!'
http://www.flickr.com/photos/23912576@N05/2962194797
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Experiencing the Unexpected
This is the first time I've ever done this, but I'd like to welcome a guest writer to Betchablog. This post was written by one of my work colleagues, Pam Nutt, and was actually the first part of her welcoming address to staff for the start of the 2010 school year. I enjoyed hearing Pam deliver this address to our teachers so I asked if she'd mind posting it here for all to read. As you'll discover, it was based on some of her experiences in Alice Springs in outback Australia, and I liked the way she linked it back to kids and learning. Enjoy!
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“You’re so privileged,” some said. “Very few people see the Todd flowing.” Others, with an almost reverential whisper, said “Only 1% of tourists see water flowing from Uluru.”
The sign outside the Alice Springs Desert Park said it all: “You will never look at deserts in the same way again.” Indeed. Torrential rain. Enormous umbrellas that benefited little. Puddles that we gave up walking around and just walked through. Pathways that resembled miniature Venetian canals.
I have to admit to a few churlish thoughts early on in that four and a half days of rain in the Red Centre. We were, after all, travelling with overseas friends, and the whole experience was meant to be postcard perfect – living, breathtaking Ken Duncan panoramas. And what was one of my first purchases in Alice Springs? An umbrella!
But it’s the surprise of it all that stays in my memory. The Todd not only flowing but breaking its banks in a spectacular display; the sound of it as well as the sight; the excitement of tourists and locals alike as we were all drawn down to the dry riverbed that had turned into an ever-expanding rush of noisy fast-flowing water.
And so the saga continued, with moment after moment taking us by surprise. Did it ever occur to you that you could be drowned in the torrent flowing down Kata Tjuta? That the road could be washed away in huge sections, barring your way to the MacDonnells? And to top it off, that Uluru should be shrouded in a mist that, rather than limiting our vision, enhances the mystery of the place.
Our final day at Uluru began with the obligatory dawn viewing – misty clouds on the top; subtly changing pastels beneath; the dawn of a beautifully sunny day and the sight of waterfalls glistening on the Rock. It wasn’t at all what I’d expected but it’s that sense of surprise, even awe, that remains with me. It’s a powerful and living landscape, not merely a postcard, and the fact that it was a shared experience enriched it further. Long live the experience of the unexpected.
It’s the unexpected that brings our experiences into sharp and memorable focus. I don’t wish to diminish events of unexpected horror and tragedy by not centering my thoughts on such moments. Rather, I’d like to reflect on the fact that out of our ordinary experiences come moments that can transform – the extraordinary behind the ordinary, as Patrick White observed. The power of the unexpected experience gives fresh meaning to the ordinary details of our lives.
Think of our classrooms. The fact that we have detailed programmes, desired outcomes and well-planned strategies clearly outlines what we expect in them. And these expectations are in no way to be derided, nor is the satisfaction that, at the end of it all, we’ve accomplished set goals. But I don’t ever recall being joyously excited by this. Satisfied. Happy. Gratified. Even relieved, perhaps. But what gives greatest cause for excitement are the unexpected moments that highlight the experiences of individual students. They’re often unexpected because they operate outside the formality of our written curriculum.
There’s the ‘A-ha!’ moment when a struggling student has suddenly grasped an elusive concept in terms that mean something to her. It could be a moment we easily miss – the rest of the class has got it quite some time earlier and moved on. But suddenly, there’s a “This poem really says what it feels to...” or “Macbeth could be a today story!” or ‘There’s a pattern here that I can finally understand and apply. It makes sense!” Then you know that a student has reached out and grabbed an idea for herself, rather than noted what you’ve said in order to give it back to you in an assessment task, intelligibly or otherwise.
There’s the moment when a clever, ambitious and articulate student quietly reaches out to spend time with someone who just doesn’t get it , taking joy from the shared experience of learning and celebrating what could seem to her to be a lesser achievement. There are the moments when students are prepared to laugh and talk with you, not just merely take down notes about what you are saying, or ask what they could have done to get 20/20 instead of 19/20. Or when a student from years ago meets you and says, “I remember in one of our classes...“ and they go on to tell you of something that they built into their life because of some interaction in a classroom.
There are the times when a group learns how to deal with accepting that not everyone is like them but is to be valued. Or the times when they understand why they are privileged, even though they’re not given everything they want. It’s a joy to see someone who rarely dips below an A sharing the moment with a student who’s excited about getting a C+. In the rush and pressure of teaching, it’s easy to miss those moments. It’s a joy when we experience the unexpected and it brings us back to the things that really count – what kind of people we are, what we value, where our hopes lie.
At all levels in our lives, experiencing the unexpected can have a profound impact. Valuing the unexpected in our classrooms, for example, goes far beyond expecting certain outcomes in relation to some learning stage. And such an experience of the unexpected, whether it be part of an intellectual, emotional or spiritual journey, may well have begun somewhere in a classroom, both for the pupil and the teacher.
I’ll never look at these unexpected experiences in the same way again.
Words and Video by Pam Nutt
CC BY-NC-ND Image by http://www.flickr.com/photos/skemsley/204933908

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Seeing with Different Eyes
Earlier this year, I had a visitor from South Africa contact me to ask if they could drop into the school at which I work while they were visiting Australia. She was were here as part of a study tour, and had heard some good things about PLC Sydney. In fact, her school in Johannesburg was a similar sort of school - independent, all girls, similar size - and she was interested in comparing a few ideas. Her school was also using IWBs extensively, and was keen to see how our staff were using them.
On the day she visited, we chatted for a while in the main staffroom, shared ideas about education and various resources for learning, before finally heading off on a little tour around the school.
Because I knew she was coming, I sent an email around asking for volunteers who wouldn't mind us coming into their classrooms. Several responded positively, so I organised to expect us to drop by their classrooms, however I wasn't specific about times since I didn't really know when we would be coming by... I suggested that they don't try and come up with anything special, just do whatever they would normally be doing at that time. I was pleased that I ended up with a cross section of year groups too, right from our very young students all the way up to some senior classes.
As we wandered about the school, we saw some wonderful teaching in action. My South African friend kept remarking on the quality of the teaching she was seeing, and how expertly these teachers appeared to get the best from their students. And she was right - there really were some wonderful things going on in these classrooms. There was great creativity, engagement, enthusiasm and learning taking place in every class we visited, and it was very obviously driven by the dedication, passion and commitment of these teachers.
Something that occurred to me later that day was that every one of these classrooms we visited were all of teachers who had not always been teachers. Every single one of them had done other things in their lives besides being a teacher. For example, the Year 2 teacher had originally trained as a teacher, but then spent several years as a professional opera singer with the Australian Opera. The Year 6 teacher used to be a corporate lawyer before deciding to retrain as a teacher. The maths teacher we visited in the high school was originally a computer programmer before he started his teaching career.
I thought about other great teachers I knew, and I could think of many examples of where this pattern seemed to consistently continue. The number of really good teachers I knew who had done other things outside of teaching was quite astounding. Whether they had originally done something else before discovering teaching, or whether they had started out as a teacher then left the profession to do something quite different before returning, the nexus between having out-of-school experience and being an outstanding teacher seemed incredibly obvious.
Before you jump on that last statement, I'm NOT saying that there is anything inherently wrong with teachers who have always been teachers. Not at all. There are many wonderful educators, many of whom have only ever been teachers, who do a fantastic job of teaching kids. But I'd still argue the case that to be a good teacher you need to have some level of broader interaction with the wider world, and whether that comes from involvement in something extra-curricula like being active in a club or organisation, having a part-time job, doing volunteer work, helping your spouse run their business, or even having your own small business "on the side", there really needs to be some other way of gaining exposure to the world outside the classroom.
I can't help thinking that teachers who have this wider experience beyond the classroom, who have had to deal with that dreaded "real world" we hear so much about, add an important extra dimension to what they bring to their classrooms and to the experiences they offer their students.
We can all recognise the value of work-experience programs for students, and most people would agree that it's important that kids get to see what life is like outside of school. But I'd like to see some sort of "real world experience program" for educators. Perhaps teachers need to do a work experience program just as much as students do? Maybe we need an arrangement where teachers can choose to spend part of a term away from the classroom every few years, working in "the real world"? It would help them understand the world their students are preparing for, it would give them a far more rounded perspective on life beyond the classroom, and overall I really think it would make them better teachers in the long run.
What do you think? Have you noticed the same thing with teachers who have done other things outside teaching? Would some sort of a teacher work experience program help make us better at what we do?
Image: 'Visionary'
http://www.flickr.com/photos/70405662@N00/1204637477

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I wrote a blog post a little while back called
Over the last year or so, I've been invited to present at a number of conferences, including a couple of keynotes. It's been an enriching experience, and one I enjoy immensely, although I do always end up feeling like I'm "a mile wide and and inch deep", to coin a well-worn phrase. I feel like I know quite a bit about a lot, but not a lot about anything. Despite the fact that I like to dabble in lots of stuff, I'm not sure I'm really a master of any of it.
Sometimes I find myself dealing with people in circumstances that are completely unconnected, but which seem to have some kind of bizarre synchronicity that causes them to mirror each other.





