Rather than build a college around geeky science laboratories and uber-smart classrooms, I think schools ought to be built around coffee shops. That inspiration came to mind as I sipped my Campfire Mocha Friday in the newly remodeled Campus Buzz coffee shop on the Green Bay campus.
Wouldn't you rather sip a medium brew in a coffee shop than sit in a sterile study space, computer lab, or industrial commons? So, rather than have one solitary coffee shop, wouldn't it be better to have them scattered about the campus and in regional learning centers, like choice parking spots? The coffee shop is the natural center for a free exchange of ideas among close friends and between departmental colleagues. I can't think of a place I'd rather be in a school, and I kind of like the classroom.
The idea of a social center in our lives is nothing new. That's why town squares were platted in the first place. Atriums and open areas in corporate buildings are designed to give the mechanistic soul a respite from the 9-5. The Apple genius, Steve Jobs, circled his huge Cupertino headquarters around socializing choke points he called "serendipitous and fluid meeting spaces," according to his biographer Walter Isaacson. Jobs knew breaking down departmental barriers, or silos, allows even unlikely colleagues to come together to exchange work projects and ideas. Great ideas come from that serendipitous exchange.
What works for communities and for business, also works in education. Instructors long suspected that groups of students generate as much learning together as do lectures, worksheets, and textbooks separately. Give me an Americano menu on a chalkboard in a multi-use, art-filled space equipped with comfy chairs, a reliable WI-FI signal, and light jazz, and the world will pivot in my favor as if balanced on a caffeinated lever. Sprinkle generously with scones, muffins, and Death by Chocolate brownies and, Houston, we have landed in Nirvana. Sit down and let's go over the assignment for today.
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Excuse Me. That's My Spot.
By this point in the semester, the second full week of classes, the routine for the rest of the term has been set. We of the college classroom know where we need to go to find a parking spot for a particular class at a particular hour, which doors have the straightest path to the coffee shop or vending machine, how to most efficiently get from classroom A to classroom B, and where to sit once we are there.
One might think that these routine patterns would create a malaise among the students and instructors, that it would hinder creative academic achievement, but we seem to thrive on it and, in fact, are put off by any change in the norm once the semester has begun. One week, for example, in a graduate class more than a few years ago, I sat in a chair across the room from where I usually sat. This was about three-quarters of the way through the semester, so the unspoken seating arrangement had been firmly set.
My de-chaired classmate came in her usual door at her usual time and stared at me for a bit. I think she thought I had wandered into "her" spot by mistake and politely waited for me to say, "Oops, wrong chair." But I didn't. I just reviewed my notes for the class, pretending I didn't know she was behind me, quivering with indignation, spilling her Starbucks mocha. So, she wandered to a vacant spot, my usual spot (now empty of course), on the other side of the class. Classmates on either side of me were silent, no small talk. The professor stepped over and asked me if something was wrong. "No, not at all," I said. It was as if I had stumbled into the wrong class. People could not make eye contact with me. Discussion was subdued. Everyone seemed thrown off by this breach of educational etiquette, but no one stated the obvious: "You're not in the right seat."
The next week, bowing to peer pressure, I sat in my usual spot, and my classmate sat in hers and her mocha did not spill. Equilibrium was reestablished. Class participation was energized and the universe once again spun unimpeded around its celestial axis. I have since decided that since the purpose of education is to deconstruct our knowledge base and rebuild it with new scaffolding, we need our habits to keep our balance. We will take risks -- and education is certainly a risk -- so long as some things do not change -- like our parking spots, our coffee drinks, and our seats in class.
One might think that these routine patterns would create a malaise among the students and instructors, that it would hinder creative academic achievement, but we seem to thrive on it and, in fact, are put off by any change in the norm once the semester has begun. One week, for example, in a graduate class more than a few years ago, I sat in a chair across the room from where I usually sat. This was about three-quarters of the way through the semester, so the unspoken seating arrangement had been firmly set.
My de-chaired classmate came in her usual door at her usual time and stared at me for a bit. I think she thought I had wandered into "her" spot by mistake and politely waited for me to say, "Oops, wrong chair." But I didn't. I just reviewed my notes for the class, pretending I didn't know she was behind me, quivering with indignation, spilling her Starbucks mocha. So, she wandered to a vacant spot, my usual spot (now empty of course), on the other side of the class. Classmates on either side of me were silent, no small talk. The professor stepped over and asked me if something was wrong. "No, not at all," I said. It was as if I had stumbled into the wrong class. People could not make eye contact with me. Discussion was subdued. Everyone seemed thrown off by this breach of educational etiquette, but no one stated the obvious: "You're not in the right seat."
The next week, bowing to peer pressure, I sat in my usual spot, and my classmate sat in hers and her mocha did not spill. Equilibrium was reestablished. Class participation was energized and the universe once again spun unimpeded around its celestial axis. I have since decided that since the purpose of education is to deconstruct our knowledge base and rebuild it with new scaffolding, we need our habits to keep our balance. We will take risks -- and education is certainly a risk -- so long as some things do not change -- like our parking spots, our coffee drinks, and our seats in class.
Sunday, January 20, 2013
Just Being Best in the Neighborhood
When we daydream about success, do we dream of world-wide fame, universal-accolades, and a chest full of gaudy gold medals? I think, too often, popular self-help wisdom pushes us to set our goals at unachievable levels. Then when we fall short -- which usually happens -- we give up. Successful workers realize goals set at less Olympic heights can be just as impressive
Mexico City's most famous chef, Enrique Olvera, said he did not dream of world-renown when he opened his restaurant, Pujol, 13 years ago. Chef Olvera told Hamish Anderson, of the Wall Street Journal Magazine (February 2013) his goal was just to be "the best restaurant in the neighborhood." Neighborhood? Only neighborhood? To the casual reader expecting an inspirational story, that might seem low balling the dream. Aren't entrepreneurs supposed to reach for stars and walk in the heavens on a daily basis?
No, not really. That star-stuff is good for fawning interviews after you are successful, but on a day-to-day basis, being "the best in the neighborhood" is the best recipe for success. Following Chef Olvera's initial humble goal, Anderson writes that Pujol is considered "Mexico's finest -- and 36th best in the world according to the much scrutinized S. Pellegrino rankings."
Rather than walking among the stars, Olvera works side-by-side with his cooks through lunchtime service. On a daily basis, work is often neither earth-shaking nor revolutionary. It is done faithfully on a consistently high level. The key to success is persistence and continual improvement. Each day you do the best you can with what you have. Then you get up the next day, and try to do a little better.
Most of the time, working toward being "best in the neighborhood" is usually quite extraordinary.
Friday, December 21, 2012
Guns, Schools, and the NRA
What can I say that has not already been said about the shooting at the Connecticut elementary school? So many positive touching tributes had already been posted. Two of my favorites has been first a photo of the perpetually smiling Mr. Rogers with a beaming child and his reminder that in every tragedy we need to look for the helpers, because the helpers show our true selves. A second favorite has been a viral tweet from NBC broadcast journalist, Ann Curry, who suggested we ought to volunteer 26 acts of kindness as a memorial to those who were killed. Since Sunday, according to NBC, over 167,000 tributes have been posted to #26ACTS.
That, I thought, was enough. No more words were needed. Such a crime cannot be undone, and all we can do is pledge to try to make the world a better place. Let Newtown mourn in peace.
Then came Friday's bizarre NRA news conference. NRA spokesman, Wayne LaPierre, took the occasion of the one-week anniversary of the shooting, while teachers and students were still being buried in Newtown, CT, to say that the NRA opposes any gun laws: "the only thing that can stop a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun." How does one do that? asks the inquiring mind. LaPierre said the answer to gun violence in schools is an armed security force that can protect students, made up of trained volunteers stationed at every school across the country.
No, this newscast couldn't be true. Even the NRA has more sense than making a statement like that at a time like this. I double-checked the initial reports, because I thought this had to be a parody penned by The Onion, the irreverent newspaper satire from Madison, WI. But no, to my disbelief, this was an actual event staged by an obviously deranged publicist. To not tear into this idiocy would be to disrespect the memory of the Newtown students and teachers.
Trained, armed volunteers in every school? Why trouble with Mr. Rogers, with acts of kindness, the NRA seems to say, when we have superior weaponry? Well, following NRA logic, why stop with a single armed officer in every school? Why not arm every individual classroom? Why not arm every temple, church and mosque? Why not arm every shopping center and movie theater, and fast food place and neighborhood spa. Perhaps even Santa and his elves should be packing. Prince of Peace: phaaaa!
Twitter contributor, Adrian Eversoll, posting to #NRA, pointed out that the NRA's theory of superior firepower did not protect the sites of three other mass shootings. He wrote, "Columbine had an armed guard. Virginia Tech had a police department. And Fort Hood had the military." How many more guns are needed to protect us? Earth to NRA: escalating the threat of violence in schools and in society is not the answer.
That, I thought, was enough. No more words were needed. Such a crime cannot be undone, and all we can do is pledge to try to make the world a better place. Let Newtown mourn in peace.
Then came Friday's bizarre NRA news conference. NRA spokesman, Wayne LaPierre, took the occasion of the one-week anniversary of the shooting, while teachers and students were still being buried in Newtown, CT, to say that the NRA opposes any gun laws: "the only thing that can stop a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun." How does one do that? asks the inquiring mind. LaPierre said the answer to gun violence in schools is an armed security force that can protect students, made up of trained volunteers stationed at every school across the country.
No, this newscast couldn't be true. Even the NRA has more sense than making a statement like that at a time like this. I double-checked the initial reports, because I thought this had to be a parody penned by The Onion, the irreverent newspaper satire from Madison, WI. But no, to my disbelief, this was an actual event staged by an obviously deranged publicist. To not tear into this idiocy would be to disrespect the memory of the Newtown students and teachers.
Trained, armed volunteers in every school? Why trouble with Mr. Rogers, with acts of kindness, the NRA seems to say, when we have superior weaponry? Well, following NRA logic, why stop with a single armed officer in every school? Why not arm every individual classroom? Why not arm every temple, church and mosque? Why not arm every shopping center and movie theater, and fast food place and neighborhood spa. Perhaps even Santa and his elves should be packing. Prince of Peace: phaaaa!
Twitter contributor, Adrian Eversoll, posting to #NRA, pointed out that the NRA's theory of superior firepower did not protect the sites of three other mass shootings. He wrote, "Columbine had an armed guard. Virginia Tech had a police department. And Fort Hood had the military." How many more guns are needed to protect us? Earth to NRA: escalating the threat of violence in schools and in society is not the answer.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
From Bangladesh to Super Storm Sandy
While listening to Roger Waters, Bruce Springsteen, and Adam Sandler's irreverent "Hallelujah", at the 12-12-12 Concert for Super Storm Sandy Relief tonight, my mind wanders back to August 1971 and the original relief concert, the Concert for Bangladesh. At the time, that small country endured millions dead from unimaginable famine and political terror. The 1971 concert brought together the best performers of the time including Eric Clapton, Bob Dylan, Billy Preston, Leon Russell, Phil Spector, and Ringo Starr among many, many others.
The driving force behind the concert was another ex-Beatle, George Harrison, and Indian music legend, Ravi Shankar. It seems like a full turn of wheel of fate that at the same time I am listening to Bon Jovi at the Sandy Concert, I am also mourning the death this week of Mr. Shankar, an ambassador who was able to unite a fractious late 60s and early 70s with quivering sounds from an odd looking, long-necked traditional instrument.
Shankar explained why he reached out to Harrison with the idea for the Bangladesh concert. Admittedly, the proceeds from the concert and subsequent film would be only "a drop in the ocean (of relief need)," he said. In fact, the back of the Bangladesh album booklet (yes, we still have the vinyl three-record album, my wife's college barter for meal tickets) shows an imprint of the check from the concert to the UN Children's Fund for Bangladesh: $243,418.50.
"Maybe it (the proceeds) will take care of (eight million refugees) for only two or three days," Shankar wrote in the album booklet, "but that is not the point. The main issue -- beyond the sum of money we can raise -- is that we feel that all the young people who came to the concerts... were made aware of something very few of them felt or knew clearly."
The point of the concert for Bangladesh, and for Super Storm Sandy 41-years later, is not just the money. According to Shankar, the point of the music and performances, "is trying to ignite -- to pass on the responsibility as much as possible to everyone else." It is a celebration of responsibility and of hope joined together only as music can.
I'd write more, but Clapton, the 2012 version, has just joined the Sandy Concert, and the Stones are next. Rock on!
The driving force behind the concert was another ex-Beatle, George Harrison, and Indian music legend, Ravi Shankar. It seems like a full turn of wheel of fate that at the same time I am listening to Bon Jovi at the Sandy Concert, I am also mourning the death this week of Mr. Shankar, an ambassador who was able to unite a fractious late 60s and early 70s with quivering sounds from an odd looking, long-necked traditional instrument.
Shankar explained why he reached out to Harrison with the idea for the Bangladesh concert. Admittedly, the proceeds from the concert and subsequent film would be only "a drop in the ocean (of relief need)," he said. In fact, the back of the Bangladesh album booklet (yes, we still have the vinyl three-record album, my wife's college barter for meal tickets) shows an imprint of the check from the concert to the UN Children's Fund for Bangladesh: $243,418.50.
"Maybe it (the proceeds) will take care of (eight million refugees) for only two or three days," Shankar wrote in the album booklet, "but that is not the point. The main issue -- beyond the sum of money we can raise -- is that we feel that all the young people who came to the concerts... were made aware of something very few of them felt or knew clearly."
The point of the concert for Bangladesh, and for Super Storm Sandy 41-years later, is not just the money. According to Shankar, the point of the music and performances, "is trying to ignite -- to pass on the responsibility as much as possible to everyone else." It is a celebration of responsibility and of hope joined together only as music can.
I'd write more, but Clapton, the 2012 version, has just joined the Sandy Concert, and the Stones are next. Rock on!
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Tribe of Educators on Twitter
Scanning the latest education tweets today, I discovered "Homework may not equal learning: one to two hours a night may be excessive," "Intricate lessons may not connect to the larger lesson/competencies," "The Power of Collaborative Learning," and "Pinterest has hundreds of resources for educators." And, that is from just 50 minutes of posts.
Rather than lengthy conferences at exotic locales or subscribing to pages and pages of pedagogic papers, teachers turn to Twitter and other social media sites for a constant stream of inspiration and detailed, tested best practices. I can learn more in an hour of reading tweets from "Eye on Education", than from most in-service sessions. Some may argue that face-to-face personal contact is more effective than impersonal digital messages. Maybe, maybe not. It depends on the your comfort with this new training medium. Guru Educator Dave Guymon pointed out advantages in a Dec. 7 blog about education and Twitter:
"With proportionately decreasing budget and increasing demands on classrooms, teachers having access to a tribe of educators on Twitter provides me tools, strategies, and a support system that I can rely on to continually help me to become a better instructional leader and classroom manager... Interest-based groups of educators connect to discuss theoretical questions, classroom practices, and educational reform in a supportive, collaborative online environment."
I can foresee that instead of jetting colleagues off to the latest and greatest, that the best education ideas are brought to the instructor's classroom through webinars, discussion nodes, digital social resources, and Twitter news summaries. This brave new world is efficient, effective, and avoids long lines at the airport security stations. It introduces us to new ideas and keeps us in the classroom in front of our students, which is where we want to be.
Rather than lengthy conferences at exotic locales or subscribing to pages and pages of pedagogic papers, teachers turn to Twitter and other social media sites for a constant stream of inspiration and detailed, tested best practices. I can learn more in an hour of reading tweets from "Eye on Education", than from most in-service sessions. Some may argue that face-to-face personal contact is more effective than impersonal digital messages. Maybe, maybe not. It depends on the your comfort with this new training medium. Guru Educator Dave Guymon pointed out advantages in a Dec. 7 blog about education and Twitter:
"With proportionately decreasing budget and increasing demands on classrooms, teachers having access to a tribe of educators on Twitter provides me tools, strategies, and a support system that I can rely on to continually help me to become a better instructional leader and classroom manager... Interest-based groups of educators connect to discuss theoretical questions, classroom practices, and educational reform in a supportive, collaborative online environment."
I can foresee that instead of jetting colleagues off to the latest and greatest, that the best education ideas are brought to the instructor's classroom through webinars, discussion nodes, digital social resources, and Twitter news summaries. This brave new world is efficient, effective, and avoids long lines at the airport security stations. It introduces us to new ideas and keeps us in the classroom in front of our students, which is where we want to be.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Only Enough for Three out of 25
During the last two weeks, I read applications for scholarships to NWTC in a methodical, well-rehearsed, and inspiring process. It was my first go as a reader. I think I would enjoy doing this again.
Each semester, dozens of groups of six readers are assigned 25 student applications from the almost 500 applications that the Foundation Office receives. Readers are asked to rank the applications in five descending categories: Outstanding, Above Average, Average, Below Average, and Why Did You Apply? Out of that group of 25, we are only allowed to award three Outstanding rankings. Those are the leading candidates to divide up $50,000 in scholarship money for the spring semester. The three of 25 become maybe 100 scholarship winners.
The NWTC Foundation recommends a weighted criteria: GPA (high school and college), Personal Essay, Financial Essay and Financial Need, and Letters of Recommendation. The GPA comparison was straightforward, assuming students had some college under their belt. The Financial Essay and Financial Need sections were less easy to consider since all my applicants could really use the extra money. Out of the 25 applications, 10 were an easy first cut for me. They received Average rankings.
The rest I ranked Above Average, and from that group, I planned to pick the Outstanding three. Since I have a writing background, I was especially interested in the personal essays. Unfortunately, some of the essays were more like personal paragraphs texted from a smartphone than well-constructed writing. Ignoring spelling, sentence fragments, misplaced commas and other rude violations of American Standard English, I concentrated on the stories the students had to tell. Those students who provided details and told a compelling story, rather than just fantasize about using their education to solve some fuzzy problem of the world, ranked higher on my list. I then looked to the letters of recommendation to support or add to the personal story of the students.
Out of the 15 applications that I seriously considered, I wanted to give half the Outstanding ranking. The seven were pared down to five, reapplying the GPA criteria, and then down to four. My last cut was very difficult. I hope I made the right choice.
In my opinion, my three Outstanding students demonstrated need, academic ability, and a drive to succeed in what they want to do. In a perfect world, there would be enough scholarship money for anyone who really wants to work for a college degree, but in our world, and on my list, there is only enough for 3 out of 25. That will have to be enough for now.
Each semester, dozens of groups of six readers are assigned 25 student applications from the almost 500 applications that the Foundation Office receives. Readers are asked to rank the applications in five descending categories: Outstanding, Above Average, Average, Below Average, and Why Did You Apply? Out of that group of 25, we are only allowed to award three Outstanding rankings. Those are the leading candidates to divide up $50,000 in scholarship money for the spring semester. The three of 25 become maybe 100 scholarship winners.
The NWTC Foundation recommends a weighted criteria: GPA (high school and college), Personal Essay, Financial Essay and Financial Need, and Letters of Recommendation. The GPA comparison was straightforward, assuming students had some college under their belt. The Financial Essay and Financial Need sections were less easy to consider since all my applicants could really use the extra money. Out of the 25 applications, 10 were an easy first cut for me. They received Average rankings.
The rest I ranked Above Average, and from that group, I planned to pick the Outstanding three. Since I have a writing background, I was especially interested in the personal essays. Unfortunately, some of the essays were more like personal paragraphs texted from a smartphone than well-constructed writing. Ignoring spelling, sentence fragments, misplaced commas and other rude violations of American Standard English, I concentrated on the stories the students had to tell. Those students who provided details and told a compelling story, rather than just fantasize about using their education to solve some fuzzy problem of the world, ranked higher on my list. I then looked to the letters of recommendation to support or add to the personal story of the students.
Out of the 15 applications that I seriously considered, I wanted to give half the Outstanding ranking. The seven were pared down to five, reapplying the GPA criteria, and then down to four. My last cut was very difficult. I hope I made the right choice.
In my opinion, my three Outstanding students demonstrated need, academic ability, and a drive to succeed in what they want to do. In a perfect world, there would be enough scholarship money for anyone who really wants to work for a college degree, but in our world, and on my list, there is only enough for 3 out of 25. That will have to be enough for now.
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