Posted by: Jan Smith | March 29, 2009 | 1 Comment |
Well, I am just tickled.
Yesterday at 6 pm I published a post on our class blog about our Heritage Fair. At 7 pm I received an email from one of my students:
Hi Mrs. Smith
That is a great post you worte but i have some suggestions
Add links to the names of the class mates
Maybe share more info on what classmates said about the differences in presentations in the library to the class.
signed ***
I have to say I am thrilled with this email because this tells me a few things:
What I’ve been saying about linking is sticking. She noticed that I didn’t do it.
What I’ve modeled about the power of feedback to help a writer improve is sticking.
What I have said about reading thoughtfully is sticking. She obviously read deeply enough to notice what was missing–I had not included the really important conversation we had following the Fair
What I have been saying about the subtleties of what sorts of comments should be made on a blog, and what should be made via other means is sticking. Although her feedback would have been just fine on the blog, I think it was thoughtful to choose email instead.
Most significant to me, her email says something about our relationship. She trusts me enough to feel confident that her feedback would be welcomed.
There are days when I suspect that I am just so much white noise in the lives of my students. And then there are others when I notice a change in attitude, a strategy applied, growth in thinking, or more mature behaviour. Blogging has created fertile ground for all of us. The roots go down and the plant grows up.
Have you ever had feedback from your students, parents, or colleagues that has made you aware of the postive effects of your teaching that you weren’t expecting? I’d love to hear it.
Posted by: Jan Smith | February 22, 2009 | 7 Comments |
Sometimes opportunity knocks. Sometimes it tags you in the hall.
I joked with my colleagues that I should never stand outside my classroom door, as I am likely to get asked to do a job I hadn’t planned on. A few weeks back my principal asked if I would present something on Smartboards for the annual gathering of Vancouver Island school trustees which our district was hosting. I asked if I could do something on blogging instead as it is the focus of my action research.
What to say to Trustees?
As the event got closer, I was beginning to wonder what a trustee would know or want to know about blogging. I would have a context for a teaching audience–and a parent audience, but what would be the background knowledge, interests, and concerns of trustees? Enter the trusty PLN –personal learning network via Twitter. I tweeted and got some great responses from Lorna Costantini, Kathy Cassidy, Cindy Seibel and Heidi Hass-Gable, who was so generous with her time that we had a Skype call.
How much to say?
I had to think about how deep to go in the time I had (and that seemed to float–initially 15 minutes, then 45, settling at about half an hour), which wasn’t a lot. Or too much, depending… I decided they might need the context of Web 2.0 and an explanation of the concept of a read and write web. So I created a short PowerPoint (below) and decided to focus on two aspects of blogging that seem to be especially important to my students: their digital identity (pride, confidence, the desire to represent the best of themselves, their learning profiles are less visible or a barrier) and the audience that blogging gives them (family, peers, students around the world). After that I’d share a video of interviews that Paul Hamilton did with five of my students in December. I was then going to tour them quickly through our class blog, Huzzah!, and the student blogs, and then invite questions or conversation.
How it went
I arrived for the set up and realized I could load all the student’s blogs in the lab so the trustees could see individual ones after the fact. A senior administrator popped in, and gave me a really valuable head’s up: the trustees were from an older demographic than he expected. His job was to shepherd the 50 trustees between presentations, and they were getting tired (oh dear). My time was going to be about 25 minutes.
I am pretty pleased with the way that the presentation itself went. I have been living blogging with my students for four months and I am very proud of their growth. I was only somewhat nervous, and the technology didn’t fail me. The questions were interesting: Kathy Cassidy was right: the first audience statement during the presentation was, “You mean anyone can see them?” Other questions after I spoke were about parent involvement and education, one about spelling, and my favourite, “What did you need to do before you were successful?”. I said I had to fail. I had to learn what blogging wasn’t before I understood what it was. I said I also have to be able to fail in front of my students so I can model the two most important tech skills: troubleshooting and having a plan B (and C, and…).
Regrets
I wish I had:
first surveyed the audience about their use of the Internet, and knowledge of blogging;
been more thorough in defining or touring a blog–what a post is etc.;
edited the video–at eight minutes it was too long;
emphasized more the need for peer-to-peer teacher support while teachers are taking risks. It would have been the perfect opportunity to get the bug in the ear of people who can make change happen and maybe get technology integration support positions in our district.
Learning
I have a fabulous PLN through Twitter.
Drinking water and not wearing under-wire are important to presenter comfort (learned that before–this is gender specific advice).
I know enough about the richness of blogging with students that I can actually say I have expertise, which surprises me.
No doubt I’ll present again–in fact I have to in April. So I am open to suggestions from your experiences–any advice on how to plan for and deliver to an audience about the power and potential of technology? Love to hear from you.
Posted by: Jan Smith | January 25, 2009 | 3 Comments |
This weekend I was in Philadelphia. I met amazing people, had great conversations, and attended inspiring professional development sessions. All from the comfort of my office swivelly chair. And yes, I watched most of it in my pj’s.
I was at Educon 2.1 via Mogulus, a broadcasting platform that allows for video streaming and simultaneous chat. I really do wish I had been there in person, but to attend virtually was a great second-best. Maybe next year? I’d probably have to take a week off to get there and back! There were 350 physically attending. I wonder how many took part like me. Chris Lehmann, the faculty and students at Science Leadership Academy did a great job of bringing in a wider audience.
The conversations in the chat room were fascinating–at times a lot of “push back” on my own thinking (a term new to me in the last six months–not all heads nod, respectful disagreement, alternate points of view). I wish I could find the chat logs to see what I read and said.
In Bud Hunt’s presentation he used a tool called Ether Pad. Looks like an amazing tool for synchronous collaboration. One chat room discussion was about the true value of blogging. Someone contended that most blogging was essentially drivel, and not worth an audience. (I hope I am being fair, because I don’t have the transcript). I guess blogging either finds an audience or it doesn’t, like any other form of publication. Think of those bins outside bookstores with deeply discounted stuff that won’t be read. At least dead blogs don’t clog the landfill.
Another discussion was about whether books belong in school anymore. I really want to read the chat log on that, because I was a bit incredulous. This is not about textbooks, but any book. The chatter said they were inefficient. Can’t get my head around that. Maybe I was feeding the trolls on that one.
Alec Couros’s session on open learning was lively and satisfying. I wish I had thought to change browsers to Internet Explorer from FireFox as it was really choppy. They talked about online identity, sharing and the “gift economy”, who owns data and more. I actually recognized a dozen faces in the room, which in itself is quite amazing to me. Again, can’t wait to see the encore presentation.
I could not have pictured on-line learning being this engaging and inspiring a year ago. I have been taught so much by so many in such a short amount of time. It’s remarkable and humbling.
How has learning on-line through such virtual conference experiences affected you? What is missed? And does it matter?
Posted by: Jan Smith | January 2, 2009 | 11 Comments |
Before I started blogging I had never heard of a meme. Best I can figure, it’s a sticky idea that folks personalize in someway then toss to one another around the internet. I first heard about 7 Random Things as a way of reminding students about privacy on the web through Brian Crosby; I wrote about it with my students on our class blog. Sue Wyatt, who has lead such a fascinating life, tagged me with this meme from her blog. I was also tagged by the remarkable and generous Ann Oro.
So…
My dad was a pilot in the RCAF and we moved to France when I was little. We used to play in a concrete bunker, but not for long. The girls wanted to play house, and the boys peed in the corner.
I repeated grade 1 and didn’t read until grade 3. I got through school by talking and listening. Probably more talking than listening. I started reading for pleasure as an adult, and I started with all the great children’s literature I had missed. Mistress Masham’s Repose was a turning point.
I was an officer in the Reserve Navy. I still can’t believe I had command of a vessel (65′ WWII diving tender). We trained Sea Cadets and dragged pilots around to simulate a parachute ditching over open water.
The worst thing that ever happened to me was that our second child died at birth. It was 14 years ago. It is also the thing that has taught me the most.
In 2004-05 my son, daughter, husband and I sailed around the world on a 188′ tall ship called Concordia. Chris and I were on-board directors for Class Afloat. Forty-eight high school students, five teachers, and a professional crew. A challenging year (I was often sea-sick), but rewarding too. We met amazing people, saw amazing things, have amazing memories. Wish I was a blogger then.
I have had rheumatoid arthritis for 11 years. Most of the time my joints are fine, but other times notsomuch. My knees often look like footballs.
I am a quilter in exile. I have a fabulous Bernina sewing machine that I saved for two years to buy, and a fabric stash that calls to me. An unfinished quilt hanging on the design wall in my sewing room tries to attract my attention. Wait til I finish this master’s thing. Then we’ll be swimming in quilts.
Posted by: Jan Smith | December 31, 2008 | 5 Comments |
It’s that time again.
Folks (like me) make sweeping resolutions about the things they will change in their lives. I will lose 10 lbs! we say. I will be more organized! We want to be better than we are, so it’s a hopeful act. Well, despite good intentions most of my resolutions don’t last much past February.
This year, though, I think I have a resolution that I can keep. Because I know I can. It used to be a habit. This year I am going to be on time, meaning before time. I am never atrociously late for work events, I just arrive as things are starting, as the meeting is called to order. I get in few minutes after a hair appointment should begin. Worst of all, I tell my family I will be home at 5:00 and I don’t come in the door until closer to 6:00.
My mother is always early. Because she doesn’t drive, she depends on others to give her lifts, and she never wants to keep people waiting. I have an imprinted memory of her leaning out the back door, looking down the driveway, ready to jump out and trot off with someone. For her, being late is discourteous because you are really saying your time is more valuable than another’s. A neighbour’s saying, “on time is late” really says the same thing. Arriving before “on time” gives you time to meet, greet, and honour the people you are spending time with. I need to re-remember that.
I know this, but have forgotten it. I have dropped the habit of punctuality that was part of my bones for my early years. So time for a change. I am going to show those I know (family, colleagues, and the businesses I frequent) that I value them enough to be on time.