Showing posts with label schools. Show all posts
Showing posts with label schools. Show all posts

Wednesday, 6 January 2016

How do schools innovate?

A recent list of 13 innovative schools is interesting because it is so diverse. Clearly innovation and creativity is not one dimensional. Some of the schools on the list are considered innovative because of the way they use their learning spaces, whilst others are vaunted because of their progressive pedagogical approaches. There is a common issue with many lists however, and it is that the inclusions are there because of the opinions of an individual or small group. I have visited several schools around the world that deserve to be included within such a list, and I'm sure other teachers and education specialists out there would have similar views. But looking at the 13 schools on this list, it is interesting to see what they have in common. What makes an innovative school?

The first feature that many of the schools on this list have in common is their view of the children. The students are seen as unique individuals rather than groups, and are educated accordingly. Personalised learning is on offer, often with personal technologies in support, and children are encouraged to take an active role in their education. Standardisation is not an important element and does not impact on the daily business of many of these schools. On the contrary, personalisation and flexibility are paramount, with children encouraged to work and progress at their own pace.

Secondly the schools are connected with the outside world. No longer can we say that inward facing schools are effective (and indeed this has never been the case). In some cases, local communities are encouraged to be involved in the life of the school, and they can also use the learning spaces for other purposes. There are explicit connections between what is learnt in the classroom and the world of work. Education within these schools is not just about knowledge transmission, it is also about developing the skills and competencies necessary to survive and thrive once the student has completed their formal education.

Thirdly, the curriculum is delivered in a manner that encourages critical and creative thinking, through the use of problem solving, discussion and active engagement with the environment. Learning by making and doing is high on the agenda, and connections are made between the process of learning and what is actually learnt.

Finally, the design of the learning spaces is creative. They don't mimic the template of the standard school. Instead the learning spaces take on many interesting shapes, and with intriguing features. Because the spaces are  flexible they can be used for a variety of creative purposes, and teaching and learning is more varied. Innovative building design encourages teachers and learners to take risks and to experiment. Nor is learning restricted to the school spaces. Blended approaches where on-site learning is mixed with off-site learning, also seems to be a common feature.

If we want education to be more effective, these schools can teach us how it might be achieved. But we need to take some risks and try out new ideas without fear of failure. As Erich Fromm said: 'Creativity requires the courage to let go of certainties.'

Photo by Annielogue on Wikimedia Commons
Photo of Avery Coonley School on Wikimedia Commons

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Innovative schools by Steve Wheeler was written in Plymouth, England and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Saturday, 5 December 2015

Technology makes a difference

Interactive tools engage learners
I have often heard the argument that there is no evidence that technology improves learning. This is a vacuous claim that is either a) based on ignorance of the available research literature, or b) possibly the result of a deep seated fear, mistrust or dislike of technology in general. My usual response to such a claim is that children with special educational needs are a classic example of technology improving learning. For children with special educational needs, especially those with physical disabilities such as deafness or vision impairment, technology not only improves learning, it actually enables it to happen. Without adaptive technology, many disabled children could not access certain types of education and would be marginalised from learning.

But there is a larger mass of evidence to show that technology is not only making the difference for all learners, it is actually creating new and previously unattainable opportunities for learning. Technology does make a difference. Let's start with widening access. Children (and adult) learners all over the globe are accessing content that allows them to learn. Even if we disregards the highly successful phenomenon of Massive Open Online Courses, there is an ever expanding menu of content that covers just about every subject and theme under the sun, available for free online. Further, social media and social network services can connect anyone with internet access to experts in any academic discipline for real time content sharing and discussion.

But what about the question of whether technology improves learning? There is a wealth of evidence that indicates technology can make a positive impact on learning outcomes. Below are just two of the available research reports (you can search for others on the Web).

A research study at Durham University in the North East of England suggests that multi-touch, multi-user surfaces can improve the learning of mathematics. 400 children were involved in the study, which demonstrated that 'smart tables' enabled better collaboration and problem solving during maths lessons. Class teachers receive a live feed of output from the children's interactions on the surface, and can intervene when necessary. Research has shown that the touch surfaces enable children to discover a range of alternative solutions to maths problems, simply through interacting with each other in new ways.

A meta-study from ARCC in the United States reveals that technology, when appropriately used can make a significant difference in learning outcomes in all subjects. The evidence from the various studies has a recurring theme: that technology can make improve student achievement if they are integrated appropriately into teaching and learning. When what technology can do best - offering online access, interactive capabilities and a vast range of options on content - is made available and meaningfully integrated into teaching, the results are undeniable.

Photo by Edward on Wikimedia Commons

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Capturing the moment by Steve Wheeler was written in Plymouth, England and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Tuesday, 3 November 2015

Tested to distraction

Should we put our children through so much stress?
Get ready for a rant. Here's the bottom line: More testing doesn't lead to better learning. In fact, over-testing distracts from the real business of learning. This is something all governments should understand and accept, but unfortunately, most do not or will not. It would certainly help if those who were in charge of running our education systems were former teachers. In England, the current Education Secretary - not a teacher - is considering introducing (or rather re-introducing) testing for 7 year-olds. This is a scheme that failed and was withdrawn in 2004, but is now being proposed again. According to her speech, in recent news reports, Nicky Morgan admits she wants to be able more closely to monitor the 'quality of schools' in England.

So there we have it. For the current UK government, testing is not there to support better learning. It's there to ensure schools are doing well. Ultimately, it will indicate how far off the pace we are in the world education rankings. It seems that governments care more about league tables such as PISA than they do about the quality of children's learning. Schools are political footballs. Governments are more interested in ensuring that their statistics and metrics continue to rise, than they are about children's learning. For them, testing is a mechanism that keeps schools in check, and they care little about the collateral damage caused.

The side effects of over-testing are that children become victims of the scramble to be best in the league tables. Teachers are pressurised to deliver better all round results. They are forced to teach to the test, which detracts from good pedagogy and also leads to higher stress and anxiety levels, not only for the teachers themselves, but also for many of their students. Everyone is forced to perform at a level that aligns to what those in power expect. A narrower curriculum also results from the regime of over-testing. Everyone is distracted from the business of learning by the need to 'perform'.  I have already written about the superficiality and inappropriateness of many tests in a post called Who put the ass in assessment? so I won't bore you further here. But when performance counts more than learning, then education systems are in a lot of trouble.

How are we going to prepare our children for the future if all we cause them to do in the classroom is suffer anxiety as they prepare for tests? How are we going to teach a wide and all embracing curriculum when teachers are so over-burdened with marking, administration and compliance with standards that they have no freedom to teach? How can we expect children to learn well when all they are thinking about is their grades? No wonder schools are haemorraging experienced and new teachers at a faster pace than we can train and replace them. Yes, assessment of learning is an important part of formal education, but the current system of testing is destroying schools. Over-testing is akin to a gardener who is constantly uprooting his plants to monitor and record their growth. He will look very busy, and there will be plenty of statistics, but ultimately, plant growth will be compromised.

Photo by Sarah Horrigan on Flickr

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Tested to distraction by Steve Wheeler was written in Plymouth, England and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Wednesday, 16 September 2015

A message to Auntie

Now and then, just to fall in step with other the tabloid press, BBC News resorts to sensationalist headlines. I'm not sure why they do it, because they already have a huge global audience and they don't need to hype themselves. But one of The BBC's most recent headlines is a little misleading.

Yesterday, 'Auntie' (the affectionate nickname we Brits give the BBC) ran this headline: Computers 'do not improve' pupil results says OECD.

Predictably, the somewhat negative spin in the article provoked a small storm of social media comments and TV interviews, while the anti-technology brigade gleefully rubbed their hands. Earlier, the OECD (Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development) had released the results of a survey on the use of technology in schools. Its director of education and skills Andreas Schleicher had said among other things that 'technology had raised too many false hopes.' The BBC article then went on to quote Tom Bennett who said: 'teachers have been dazzled by school computers.' Reading this, you might think the BBC was itself anti-technology in schools wouldn't you? But if you don't read the entire story and simply take in the headline and opening salvo, or fail to get to heart of the OECD report, you won't see the full picture.

Anyone who takes time to read through the OECD report summary will see that it is actually very positive about the use of technology in schools. It's certainly more positive than Auntie's article. It calls for new approaches to integrating technology into teaching, because at present technology use is not optimal.  It would be mindless to read this report and then simply dismiss technology as having no place in schools. What the report is actually saying is that technology is no substitute for good pedagogy. All teachers would agree with this. It also suggests that technology can be a distraction for students if it is poorly deployed. Again, there is no argument with this. Both conclusions tell us more about the pedagogy prevalent in schools than they do about the potential of technology.

The study reports that in schools where they use technology more, children's grades suffer. So technology prevents good grades? Care needs to be taken here. Far too many variables are unconsidered for us to make any firm conclusions about such statistics. To conclude that the more children use technology the lower their grades will be, is tenuous at best, and at worst absolutely misleading.

The bottom line is this - if used appropriately, technology can, and often does make learning more engaging, and it has the potential to transform educational environments. Schleicher has gone on record to say this in recent TV interviews. The key word is 'appropriately'. The crux of the matter is that many schools have yet to find ways to embed technology. In the words of Andreas Schleicher himself: 'Technology can amplify great teaching, but just doesn't replace poor teaching.'

I have a message to Auntie: Please don't use sensationalist headlines to hype your news articles. Simply tell it like it is. We will respect you more if you do.

Related posts:

Mobile phones and iPads hamper learning!! by Neil Atkin
Pedagogy first, technology second by Steve Wheeler
Tech doesn't improve student results study: Why news reports like this are damaging by Claire Amos

Photo by Edward on Wikimedia Commons

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A message to Auntie by Steve Wheeler was written in Plymouth, England and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Friday, 14 August 2015

I know what I like

'We live in a rapidly changing world that requires people to have the ability to adapt much more quickly than in previous times, where events moved much more slowly. Education is not immune from these changes even though it is an inherently conservative system. In the face of significant innovation in educational practice and as espoused in self-determined learning (heutagogy) and other perspectives, there are new skills to adopted by learners and learning leaders alike.' 

With these words, Stewart Hase outlines the manifesto for heutagogy, an emerging theory of learning that espouses self-determined study, where 'people have the agency with respect to how, what and when they learn'.  Hase argues that people are naturally predisposed to self-determined learning from birth, and that the principles of heutagogy are focused on creating optimal experiences and environments in which this can be supported. There are many other chapters in this self-published volume that echo these tenets, and all are grounded in professional practice and case studies. Heutagogy has been criticised as an ugly and problematic term, but if you are able to move beyond the cosmetics of nomenclature and thoughtfully consider the arguments presented, you will gain some valuable insights into how this theory emerged.

Throughout this book, the contributors generally argue for change in education, and provide examples from their own experiences as to how those changes might be effected. Jackie Gerstein writes about the contrast between learning in traditional environments, which is generally passive (Education 1.0) and learning that is self-determined (Education 2.0), where students connect, communicate and collaborate. She argues for the importance of active, experiential, authentic and socially rich experiences, and shows how networked learning through technology is a vital mainstay of self-determined learning.

The technology theme is sustained across other chapters. Lisa-Marie Blaschke discusses the use of social media such as Twitter to open up new possibilities for learners. She advocates shifting the role of teachers to create safe and open environments in which learners can explore and freely discover for themselves, especially through social media. She acknowledges that stepping back to allow learners to do this can be threatening for teachers - they will need to relinquish the control to which they are accustomed - and also for students, particularly those who are not naturally confident in directing their own learning. Although she offers examples of heutagogy in practice there is no specific counsel on how to address these issues.

Robert Schuetz continues the social media theme with a chapter on how blogs create learning legacies. His narrative gently persuades of the need to tell our stories in order to reflect and deepen our learning, while reaching out to our own personal network of co-learners. It is more a recipe on the art of blogging though, than a considered treatise on how the practice can enhance the learning experience. More heavy weight in its approach is the chapter by Thom Cochrane and Vickel Narayan which tackles the impact heutagogy might have on creativity in education. Melanie Booth strongly contends that self-determined approaches to learning fit neatly into continuous assessment, where measurement of learning becomes flexible and negotiated and hence a crucial component of critical reflection. Ronan O'Beirne persuasively argues that technology is a key driver of self-determined learning, because it is changing the relationship between learners and content, and empowers them to engage in new ways with knowledge. And there is more, much more. In total there are seventeen chapters, each offering additional voices to the growing narrative of heutagogy.

Much of the contents will undoubtedly cause progressive educators to nod their heads sagely in agreement, perhaps without overly challenging their thinking, because many will already practise some of these principles. Much of it is common sense. For many traditionalists on the other hand, heutagogy may be a steep and tortuous pathway, a step too far, one from which many will shy away. Traditionalists should read the book with an open mind, but sadly I suspect it won't reach that audience. Teachers in compulsory education may find this a particularly steep hill to negotiate, arguing that many of the key principles of heutagogy are based upon adult education (andragogy) rather than the education of children. Although this is a problem acknowledged by some of the authors in this volume, a great deal more effort will need to be exerted if teachers of children are to be convinced that heutagogy is a universal theory.

Generally, the book is well written and professionally presented, and comes complete with the welcome feature of coloured illustrations. The chapters are argued well enough for the book to sit comfortably in an academic context, featuring sound research and adequate referencing. It is a valuable compendium of themes and perspectives around heutagogy, and is a much needed contribution to the support this movement. I am sure other publications will follow, and they will need to. As a theory, heutagogy will need further development and a great deal more supporting, empirical evidence, before it is accepted into the mainstream of pedagogical thinking.

Reference
Blaschke, L. M., Kenyon, C. and Hase, S. (Eds: 2014) Experiences in self-determined learning. Self publication. Available here. Book synopsis.

Photo by Dragan Brankovic on Flickr

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I know what I like by Steve Wheeler was written in Plymouth, England and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Wednesday, 12 August 2015

Falling prophets

“Books will soon be obsolete in the schools. Scholars will soon be instructed through the eye. It is possible to teach every branch of human knowledge with the motion picture. Our school system will be completely changed in 10 years.”

So wrote the celebrated American inventor Thomas Edison in 1913. It's a well known quote, and is more representative of his fervour for the moving picture than it was of reality. His enthusiasm for the fledgling motion picture industry was justified however. It took the world by storm, but not at the expense of books. Motion pictures also failed to revolutionise school systems by the way.

Another well known quote from the Hollywood mogul Darryl F. Zanuck in 1946 reveals more about our tumultuous romance with technology:

"Television won't be able to hold on to any market it captures after six months. People will soon get tired of staring at a plywood box every night." 

Like Edison, Zanuck had a personal vested interest in the future success of the motion picture industry, and viewed the introduction of the television as nothing more than an aberration. Yet just as Edison had grossly underestimated the power and appeal of the book, so Zanuck was proved wrong with about the demise of television. What can we learn from these earnest but erroneous predictions? Firstly, we need to be careful how we predict the future. We should pay more attention to context than content. Technology trends are capricious but our need to access information is a constant. We should understand that people are inherently curious, and will use whatever medium is available to satisfy their hunger for news, entertainment, and social contact.

The advent of the Internet and the World Wide Web has gathered all media together in one 'place'. The convergence of text, audio, video, and the emergence of hypermedia provide us with the ultimate playground. We no longer need to ask whether books are dead. If we like reading, then books will survive, whether they are paper based or digital. The same applies to any other medium.

Photo by Robert Parvlainen on Flickr

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Falling prophets by Steve Wheeler was written in Plymouth, England and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Monday, 20 July 2015

Playing chess with the enemy #blimage

Here's my latest contribution in the series of #blimage challenges. (Someone sends you an image and you write a blog post about learning based on it - that's the game of #blimage). This image was sent to me by Australian educator Aaron Davis (@mrkrndvs). So what do I make of it? How can I frame this image in an educational context?

It looks as though Bart Simpson is having a cup of coffee with Darth Vader (how surreal is that?). Maybe they have been playing a game of chess ala Seventh Seal (the film directed by Ingmar Bergman in which a medieval knight plays a game of chess with Death), and are now taking a break. Coffee or chess anyone?

Drinking coffee with the enemy is less risky than playing chess with him. Generally it's not as formal, and the rules assume less importance. Strategy is still involved in conversation, but its a different kind of strategy, low stakes. Playing chess with the enemy can be very dangerous because ultimately, it results in a winner and a loser. Chess could be a metaphor for formal education where testing separates those who are 'bright' from those who are 'not so bright'. Testing naturally promotes success, but it can also generate failure and stigma. Personally, I prefer the coffee drinking analogy, where everyone participates, and where there are no winners and losers, just a community of people, all interested in the same end. To learn as much as they can, and to share their ideas together, simply for the joy of learning. To me, this is the kind of learning you will see in schools where teachers take a back seat, and where students are assessed on a continuous and formative basis. There is plenty of latitude for improvement, and plenty of opportunities to learn better next time.

Drinking coffee with your enemy may also bring its own rewards. You get to know them better, and the more you discover, the more you are prepared to meet future challenges. That quite easily relates to he deployment (or not) of technology in schools. We should be preparing our students for challenges that are unpredictable, so exposing them to technologies such as the Web or social media at an early age, and in the safe environment of school has to make more sense than banning them completely.

...and what if you don't like coffee? Well you can always eat Bart's shorts.

Photo by Justlego101 on Flickr

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Playing chess with the enemy by Steve Wheeler was written in Plymouth, England and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Sunday, 19 July 2015

Piece by piece

I'm continuing the challenge that was featured in my last post Off the Rails. The #blimage challenge is where people send me an image/photograph and I have to write a (reasonably intelligent) learning related blog post about it. This image was sent to me by Simon Ensor, (his blog Touches of Sense is well worth reading by the way) and here is my response:

The is a photo of jigsaw puzzle pieces, which brings three things to mind about education that are key to our understanding of good pedagogy. Firstly, all learning has the characteristics of an incomplete jigsaw. You don't really know exactly how you're going to get to the end (if there ever is an 'end'), or how long it will take, but you do have a an image on the front of the box that contains the pieces, as a reference point to what it should look like when completed. The box top image is a little like a curriculum map in education, where the subjects or the schemes of work are described, and teachers are expected to use it as guidelines to deliver content and facilitate experiences that help the students to achieve their learning outcomes. Testing is then applied to measure whether the students have indeed reached the ideal standard. This ultimately represents a product based approach to education.

Secondly, the means by which an individual successfully completes a jigsaw can be almost infinite. There are methods that people adhere to. Many people start a jigsaw off by finding and assembling all the edges. Others are more prescriptive in their approach to a jigsaw puzzle, preferring to gather together all the colours or shapes that match, and then assembling the jigsaw on the basis of similarity and pattern. Still others adopt a more random approach. Who is to say which method is a) more effective and b) more enjoyable? Whatever methods are employed, it is likely that each of us would complete a jigsaw in a different sequence, which of course is also true for most learning processes. Individuality is a key component of all learning.  Wouldn't it be sad (and very boring) if each of us had to complete a jigsaw in the same sequence, piece by piece? This is a very idiosyncractic approach to education, where the student is central to the process, and where the teacher acts as one resource amongst many.

Thirdly and finally, we could accept that the image above is quite an eye catching image in its own right. Abstractly, it has a beauty and a form that derives entirely from its incompleteness. The discussion then can turn to the question of whether all jigsaw puzzles should be completed. Ostensibly this is the intention of the jigsaw manufacturer. But should it always be the intention of the person who builds the jigsaw? What if the jigsaw is more aesthetically pleasing when only partially complete, or not complete at all? What about the value of missing pieces? Do they not also add some appeal? What about the beauty that is inherent in the chaos and uncertainty of the jigsaw? Isn't the process by which you put together the pieces more enjoyable than the ultimate satisfaction of completing the puzzle? And... what would happen if we threw away the box cover image and there were no guidelines as to what the jigsaw should look like? These questions are reminiscent of a postmodern perspective on education - where learning is random and chaotic, has multiple layers and diverse possibilities, and where the rules might just as easily be thrown out of the window. Ultimately, we know that not everything that is taught is learnt, and not everything that is learnt is taught.

I'm sure there are many other messages that could emerge from the image above, but I'm going to stop at this point to give someone else (perhaps even Simon himself?) a chance to interpret it in a pedagogical context. So what are your ideas? (And what image will you send me that will present a challenge for me to interpret?)

Photo by Simon Ensor

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Piece by piece by Steve Wheeler was written in Plymouth, England and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Tuesday, 7 July 2015

Future schools, future visions

I must admit I'm a big fan of Richard Gerver and have had the pleasure of working with him now and then over the last few years. Richard was also kind enough to write the foreword of my latest book Learning with 'e's, in which he swears blind that we met on a camel in the Saudi desert - during a social event for the ELI conference. Well, he spins a very good yarn, but we really did meet in Riyadh, and we had a lengthy conversation during the same conference (back in 2013). We discussed a number of issues around skills for the 21st Century, the role of the teacher, the nature of education and the future of schooling. Richard is a well known speaker on the circuit. He's an ex-headteacher and he has some very thought provoking views and insights on leadership, change and education. And so we took the opportunity to compare our personal visions for the progress of education, discuss our mutual concerns about the current state of schooling, and share our optimism for the future. Our dialogue embraced a number of themes including the necessary skills and literacies children will need to survive in the digital age, the impact of technology and change on education, and an insight into the concept of personalised learning. It was a conversation we enjoyed very much, and as luck would have it, a film crew was on hand to capture the entire discussion on tape. Here is an edited version of that discussion, courtesy of the King Abdullah bin Abdulaziz Public Education Development Project.



Photo by Steve Wheeler

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Future schools, future visions by Steve Wheeler was written in Plymouth, England and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Sunday, 5 July 2015

True pedagogy

Pedagogy is not about directing children. Nor is it, in Brennan's terms 'concerned with the work or art of being a teacher.' Those are mere glimpses of the reality, and only a part of a larger equation. In its absolute form, pedagogy is not just about teaching. It does not simply concern itself with the 'delivery' of education or content. In the truest sense, teaching is just one element of pedagogy and not the entire story.

Pedagogy focuses on the learner and what they are capable of achieving.

Previously I wrote about the origins of the word pedagogy, and how it can be appropriated into current practice. Pedagogy is about leading learners to the place of education. What does this mean for teachers today?

Pedagogy certainly doesn't require us to drip feed students with content and it is far removed from the harmful and relentless testing of children in schools. Much of the content you and I learnt, and were tested on in school was often lost from our memories days, or even hours after the exam. It is the deeper learning, formed through personal interest, experimentation and reflection, that remains. Pedagogy, when practised appropriately, is about creating environments in which students can learn for themselves, and pursue their curiosity. Pedagogy is about ensuring that students are motivated to succeed in their learning, and it is about providing them with the best possible tools, resources and contexts in which this can be realised.

Teachers have an important role to play in the pedagogical process, but they are often just the ignition point. Inspirational teachers are catalysts for lifelong learning, but they cannot do the learning for their students. Think back - which teachers inspired you to learn, and does their influence still inspire you today? And yet it was you who did the learning. It was you who made the effort to learn and to develop the skills and competencies you now own.

Pedagogy in the purest form describes the leading of students to a place where they can learn. In today's digital age, that learning can be any time, any place, and at a pace that suits each individual. Students already carry the tools to be able to do this. Banning these tools from the classroom has a similar effect to removing an artist's paint and brushes. A wiser decision would be for schools to explore safe, appropriate and effective use of mobile personal technologies to maximise learning. True pedagogy would recognise the opportunities that exist and exploit them. As teachers, we need to appreciate the diversity of learning opportunities that now afford themselves, and adapt our practices accordingly. That will mean standing back and letting students discover for themselves, monitoring their progress, and intervening when necessary.

Reference
Brennan, R. (2003) 'One size does not fit all': The pedagogy of online delivery of VET in Australia. In H. Guthrie (Ed.) Online Learning Research Readings. Leabrook: NCVER.

Photo by Kecia85 on Flickr

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True pedagogy by Steve Wheeler was written in Plymouth, England and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Thursday, 28 May 2015

Devil in the detail

So psychologist Guy Claxton believes that erasers are an instrument of the devil. I can understand why he thinks so. After all, erasers (or to use a term that Americans titter over - rubbers), cover up a multitude of sins. Children can quite easily work their way through a problem, erasing their mistakes as they go, and end up with a seemingly perfect piece of work. Claxton believes that erasers 'create a culture of shame about error' and believes it promotes dishonesty. OK, so this very much sounds like a storm in a teacup and a seemingly trivial battle to fight when there are much more important areas of concern to engage with in education. And yet, some would argue that Claxton has made an important point. Students can, and should, learn through their errors, and sometimes, showing a full working of a problem complete with errors, has a certain pedagogical power. Should errors be covered up? Students should sometimes be given permission to fail, because in so doing they learn how to do something better the next time. I wrote about this some months ago when I bemoaned the fact that only children's perfect pieces of art are seen on display in school reception areas. Little Sarah's picture looks wonderful, but you don't get to see the five previous, crap attempts she made to paint that beautiful swan. The school celebrates the product of her learning, but conveniently hides the messy process.

But if we start banning erasers from schools, what then do we do with computers? Will we need to remove the delete and backspace keys on all the keyboards in the ICT Suite? Do we need to deprive students of the provisionality that all wordprocessors offer? There would be Hell to pay if we did. After all, the ability to continually iterate versions of text or image is part of the creative process. Even better if each version can be preserved to be shown as a process of discovery or creativity that is equally valued alongside the finished product.

Clearly it is nonsense to ban any technology, even simple tools such as erasers, just because they seem to pose some threat to authentic learning. The product is important but so is the process, so why can't both be celebrated equally, and the technologies that brought our students to the point of success not acknowledged? Erasers, just like pencils, computers, whiteboards, sugar paper and pinboards, all have a role to play in the education of our students. The best teachers know that each resource should be used wisely for specific purposes, and none should be overused. There are often simple solutions to the complex problems academics raise. So for now, let's not ban the eraser, but if you insist, perhaps you should ask your students to work their problems through in indelible ink? The devil is in the detail.

Photo by Alex Morfin on Wikimedia Commons

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Devil in the detail by Steve Wheeler was written in Liberec, Czech Republic and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Tuesday, 24 March 2015

Battle lines

In yesterday's post entitled 'The Battle for Education', I showed a chart that characterised two opposing educational philosophies - traditional and progressive. I argued that educators are in a battle over how education is conducted, and this will determine our children's futures. Often, the differences between the two philosophies determine how students are treated, how they are assessed and ultimately, how they view their education and their own achievements.

Some comments on Twitter and on my blog have suggested that the binary between the two positions is unhelpful. There have been arguments that teachers switch between the two positions according to context. I'm not denying either of these two kinds of argument. But I will say this: it matters not whether or not individual teachers switch between modes, what matters is that there are indeed two opposing philosophies, and they both heavily influence the way schools are run. The tension between the two stances has previously caused disagreement, and will continue to do so, among educators. A binary does exist, and if leaders of schools subscribe to say a traditional approach to education, generally the school they manage will tend to follow that pattern of delivery. I have visited schools that are fully traditional in their approach and I have also been to schools where the ethos is wholly progressive. The differences are stark. Individual teachers do have a choice to determine their approach in the classroom, but realistically, these choices are limited, particularly if they are expected to tow the party line of their leadership.

One of the most marked distinctions between traditional and progressive approaches - and a battle line that will play increasing importance as the debate continues - concerns the role of the teacher. In the purest format of traditional education, teachers act as experts who deliver content to their students. They generally take a position at the front of the classroom and this is where all the action takes place. The whiteboard and other teacher resources are located here. Students are physically oriented toward this position by carefully planned seating. They are expected to pay attention to the expert, and learning is largely passive. The teacher's responsibility is to ensure that all students receive the same knowledge, at the same time. Later they are assessed on what they have remembered, and are given a grade to show how well they have been able to do so.

By contrast, progressive education views the role of the teacher as a co-learner. The teacher may be a content expert, but the most important part of their role is to facilitate learning of that content rather than simply to present it. This might involve active forms of learning where students discuss, explore through making and through solving problems. In progressive education approaches, teachers stand back and avoid the delivery of content as much as possible, creating an environment within which enquiry can be undertaken and where students generally assume more responsibility over their own learning. Assessment of learning in progressive education is more likely to be assessment for learning. This focuses more on individual progress than to measuring performance against a specific set of norm referenced criteria.

Again this is a simplistic characterisation of the two positions and there are bound to be more objections, but the definitions of roles above resonate with my experiences of recent school visits. This is by no means a complete argument. You can see them as notes in an ongoing series of thoughts about how education is being shaped and how this will play out in the continuing battle over our children's futures.

Photo by Shakata Ga Nai on Wikimedia Commons

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Battle lines by Steve Wheeler was written in Plymouth, England and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Friday, 13 March 2015

The labelling game

Last week I arrived at London Heathrow's Terminal 5, dragging my luggage behind me. It was early morning. I paused to look up and check the flight board. Yep. My British Airways flight to Madrid was listed - with the available check-in desks right next to it. It's always reassuring to see your flight listed on the board. Then you know you've arrived at the correct terminal.

So I ambled across the great Terminal 5 concourse to the check-in desk and presented my passport to the clerk. She looked me up and down, checked my passport, looked at me again... and then printed out a label, peeled back the sticky part and slapped it onto my bag. I looked at it. It said 'MAD'. I looked at her. I felt mildly offended. How does she know me? I thought.

I'm a psychologist you see. They say you're either mad before you start a degree in psychology, or absolutely insane by the time you finish. But how did she know? Perhaps it was just co-incidence, I said to myself. Then she stuck another 'MAD' label on my other piece of luggage.

Damn it, I thought - it's no mistake. This is a trend. She really thinks I'm mad. In a moment she's going to stick one on me too.

And then it dawned on me ... Airlines have a propensity to make the first three letters of your destination city into abbreviations and use them as labels on your baggage. Now I know this, I feel better. In fact I'm very much looking forward to travelling to Singapore later in the year. If I get into trouble with the authorities there, I'll simply point to my baggage labels and claim that the airline company gave me explicit instructions. What could possibly go wrong?

How often do we label our students? He's very bright, she's brilliant.... he's not such a hard worker, and that one over there is a real trouble maker.... Often we spend just a short amount of time with our students before we build an impression of their characters. Then we begin to label them. And then we think we know them. Our attitudes towards each student begins to harden and we think we can predict what they will do next. I hate hearing from other teachers what my new group of students is like. I would rather find out for myself what they can do, without any preconceived expectations or prejudices.

An interesting psychological study by Rosenthal and Jacobson back in the 1960s showed the problems and benefits that can occur in education when we label children. The Pygmalion effect, as it's known can be beneficial. If teachers ascribe great expectations onto their students, those students tend to perform better as a result. Perhaps this is because when teachers believe students are bright or hard working, they tend to lavish a little more time on supporting them than they do students who they believe to be less able or less hard working. And there's the rub. The reverse (or the Golem effect) can also occur. When teachers see students as time wasters, and expect less from them, those students tend to under perform. This kind of self-fulfilling prophecy has been shown time and again to emerge because of the way teachers perceive the potential of various students. I know personally that this can happen. Some of my previously failing students have come to me (several of whom have been thrown out of other courses) and have asked me to support them, to give them a second chance. I have seen these 'failing' students transformed into people who love learning, and who will go that extra mile or two, simply because someone has believed in them. They have ended up becoming great successes.

So next time you start off with a new group of students, don't jump to any quick conclusions. Don't label your students. Believe in them all. Treat each one as if they have the potential to succeed. Because if you believe they do, and you tell them, they are likely to believe it too. ... and they will be relying on you to support them.

Photo by Eddie Codel on Flickr

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The labelling game by Steve Wheeler was written in Istanbul, Turkey is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Friday, 13 February 2015

Making the future of education

Many would agree that a lot needs to be done to bring education up to date. The methods we use to try to align school and university teaching with the demands of contemporary society will shape the extent to which we succeed. Some advocate the flipped learning approach and to a certain extent, the transfer of content delivery from the classroom to the home (or elsewhere) makes a lot of sense. Time in the classroom with the experts should be used for assimilation of that content, and the critical thinking and application of it, which is a great deal more difficult. A lot of institutions are adopting versions of this method, and are employing technology, particularly video and online content to achieve it.

But this is just the start, and more can be done to ensure that the present day education system adequately prepares young people to take up their roles in a rapidly changing world. One of the most significant movements in recent years, and one that I believe will have a profound impact on current educational provision, is the makerspace. Alternatively referred to as hackerspaces or hacklabs, makerspaces are based on the principles of peer learning and knowledge sharing. You have probably noticed at this point just how similar this approach to learning is to work based learning practices. People teach each other by passing on their knowledge, and learn within their community of practice, focusing on their specialisms.

In makerspaces, people come together to fix things, modify existing materials and design structures, and generally explore alternatives as they learn together. They are zones of self directed learning where there are few limits to the imagination. There is usually a lot of experimentation, exploration and prototyping and testing of new ideas. This can be a very powerful means of learning not only about the things you are fixing or modding, but also about the processes that underline them such as risk taking, discovery and problem solving. A specific theory of learning, Seymour Papert's constuctionist learning theory, could be applied to explain this. Papert suggests that when we involve ourselves in making things, we become a part of that process, by constructing mental models to represent it. Furthermore, the power of sharing what one has made with an audience reinforces the achievement and motivates learners to achieve even more.

It's not that difficult to see how this approach might be used in schools to promote better learning, and encourage students to engage more.  Makerspace learning can enable students to acquire and practice skills they will later need in the world of work. Some thinking has already gone into the pedagogy of makerspaces, and later posts on this blog will attempt to describe how these can be established in schools and universities. In the meantime, if you wish to explore this idea further, check out 7 things you should know about Makerspaces by Educause.

Photo by Mitch Altman on Flickr

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Making the future of education by Steve Wheeler is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.