Moving from Transactional to Transformational Learning

As a kid, we would go to school and learn things. We would come home and our parents would ask us questions. Deep and thoughtful ones. "So, what did you do in school today? What are you learning in math? What's your favorite class? What are you reading in school?" They would ask these questions because for them, just like us, school was about acquiring knowledge. Back in 1980something, or 1950something, we couldn't ask Siri what was the capital of Nepal or what was the heat capacity of Aluminum. Life was about gathering information. Those who accelerated to the top, knew how to acquire and hold information and were able to retrieve it quickly.

Teaching during this time required a transaction. The goal for the teacher was to distribute information quickly, accurately, and meaningfully. Occasionally in some subjects we would apply the information. We would all do labs in Science and from time to time have simulations in Social Studies. Even in these experiences, the fundamental component in the end was how we transmitted the information back in the form of a lab report or write-up. The product was secondary to the process. Everything was about the transaction of information. The few kids who actually engineering products were in the shop classes not the college prep courses. Each experience was a transaction. A redistribution of information. 

Beginning in 1989 Compton realized it would be very powerful to put the encyclopedia straight on everyone's computer. They released Compton's Multimedia Encyclopedia. However real traction came in 1993 when Microsoft changed paradigm with the release of Microsoft Encarta. Distributing encyclopedias as they sent out Windows operating systems. In 1995 the World Wide Web began to make traction and by 2001 Wikipedia was introduced. In a short 12 year span, we went from information being the vital limiting reagent to universal access to all information. Gone were the days of microfilm and microfiche. Card catalogues disappeared. Film strip projectors vanished the way of the Dodo.

In classrooms, our expectations and our instructional skills were all about the transmission of information. There were exceptions vocational education, fine arts, and physical education. Each class relying heavily on transactional distribution of information for a knowledge economy. Skills, better handled by Siri, Wolfram Alpha, or a Google Search. A shift in the paradigm is occurring. Our kids have figured out how to quickly survive in the world of the knowledge economy. Ask any 10 year old  "Who was Joan of Arc?" and instead of replying like Ted from Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, they quickly will search the web through any of a variety of means and give you a deep answer about who she was. The transactions of the past have little skill or value in the application world of today.

The differentiator for us as well as our students is how we can transform the knowledge into unique and innovative products. What a student can do with the information is far more valuable than the act of acquiring or redistributing knowledge. This process requires us to rethink the learning experience. Adjust rubrics to include the acquisition of key knowledge but emphasize the capacity to apply that knowledge to create new products and new knowledge. In the past we would encourage students to make the same diorama or poster presentation. Now we want to infuse creativity, innovation, and uniqueness. As these will be the skills that open doors of employment and success. As instructors, since distribution of knowledge is no longer the utmost priority, our role changes. We become coaches. Giving students baseline skills and challenges. Encouraging them to problem solve, create, and cultivate. Providing feedback to their creations not reporting on the status of them recreating our ideas. In a short time the paradigm of learning has changed. It should make the dinner table conversation about "What did you do in school today?" a whole lot more interesting.

Opening Up A New World

The Winter Grind

When you live in a snow state, February is a grind. The newness of snow and winter has passed. The novelty of snowmen and winter lights has faded. Instead days are simply short. Nights are long. It's cold. The wind is bad. If there is snow, it's a hassle because no one remembers how to drive and getting the kids snow gear on is a pain. Winter, this lovely festival becomes the dreary day to day. It is the grind.

In school's it is no different. The kids wander in their various states of dress. Some bundled up like Nanook of the North, which I remember watching at Downers Grove South High School in 1989, and some dressed like they are ready for Weekend at Bernie's, which I also watched in 1989. Each day we are presenting harder concepts to them because this is the work time, the productive time, the time during which growth accelerates. Each night, kids go home and hit the books. They read, do their math, watch some youtube and head to bed. The next day it's back to the grind.

This is the hard time of year. This is the difficult work. The time in the trenches. This is when the growth happens. Just like a child, where you put them to bed and they wake up a little taller. In schools, this is when we do the day to day hard work and then Spring comes and we realize they came out a little smarter. These are the hard days and the long nights. For kids and adults it can feel like a grind. In our district, between January 4th and March 24th, there are 57 days of school and 2 three-day weekends. There will be many indoor recess days, many wind-blown bitter bus stops, daily learning opportunities that challenge the very fabric of our understanding and many long nights. For now in schools, it is the grind.

As all Winters, even in Narnia, Spring truly is just around the corner. With it, renewal, sun, energy, children still not dressed for the weather, and celebrations of growth. In these tough days we cannot lose track of the power of each day. The investment that comes from the hard work. When we feel as if we are going to snap, recognize that for all of us, kids and adults, this is the grind. However, it's just a stage. This too shall pass, and the value gained from our investment of time, energy, and diligence will bring value in Spring.

Narnia, The River Melts

Courage to Trust and Dare to Believe

As humans we like to believe in a little predictability. We put our faith in the idea that if we do certain actions that certain consistent outcomes will occur. We surround ourselves with people that will provide us with those replicable actions so that we know what will happen. As a result change is hard. We build nests in which faithfully actions will occur. With this predictability often we are more than willing to accept the negative voices within our culture. Predictability and consistency build a comfort and trust that outweighs hope and chance for something more. Courage to break the occasionally bonds of the day to day in order to become something greater takes both energy and faith.

Many of us live good lives. We surround ourselves with good people. We work hard to do a good job. We try our best to raise a good family. Whether its five cats and a little dog or two children with the nicknames mischief and mayhem, we find our niche and work to make it our own. In the process of slowly building this cocoon of success, brick by brick, we rarely stare out the window and ask what could be. Even rarer we stick our head out the window and say can we make this happen.

Nearly three year ago, our kindergarten team came forth and asked why can't we find an opportunity to extend the day to support children. For generations they have led a terrific program. It would have been easy to complain to each other that we need more time. It would have been easy to dream about new opportunities. It's hard to gather together and ask your district leaders, "can we explore this?" It would have been easy for the leaders to exclaim that we don't have the money, the facilities, and the time. As one of our temple's rabbis once said to the other rabbi, "I hear all the reasons why not. What are the reasons why to?" So instead of not asking, the team asked. So instead of saying no, we said why not. In that moment, both groups had the courage to trust and dared to believe what could be.

Nearly three years later, we have 5 schools piloting our Optional Kindergarten Enrichment and
Enhancement Program. In those schools we have nearly doubled our number of kindergarten teachers and rooms. We have found cost neutral ways to do it. We left the cocoon of predictability and dared to make something greater. It has not been without challenges, change, problems, and struggle. However, to walk in and watch those teachers and children engage in the learning process, social interaction, and creative journey, we wonder what would happen if we didn't cultivate this opportunity. It is our hope that we can work through the challenges and create this same experience in all six buildings.

The creation of something new requires a courage to trust, a willingness to ask why should we, and daring to believe that we can be something even greater. Whether its a new program, a new teaching partner, a new job, or a new career, developing the energy to aspire for something more is hard. It's an act of faith, an act of trust, and a hope for the future. Like all leaps forward, there are times we stumble, times we hear rejection, moments in which we discover that there are no points for second place. However we must hear those rejections, face those failures, and accept those losses while still moving forward to a greater future.

I am a baseball fan. Specifically a White Sox fan. I enjoyed the teams of the early nineties and the World Series in 2005. I look at the team on the north side of town. I see the century of failure. I followed the five years of losses in this decade as the leadership team openly developed an organization and vision: 2010 (75-87), 2011 (71-91), 2012 (61-101), 2013 (66-96), 2014 (73-89). Five year of failure while maintaining the courage to trust. The Cubs, an organization that dares to believe. The fruits of their willingness to break the cocoon of safety are beginning to ripen. A team with a pipeline of talent that is starting to blossom. I don't know if they will win the World Series in the next few years, but they certainly are a contender. Instead of asking why not, they found reasons why to. A moment for each of us to look within ourselves, a moment to consider the risks, have the courage to trust, and dare to believe in what could be.

Some Kid's Amazing English 111 Inquiry Project 

L'Dor V'Dor - From Generation to Generation

Back in the 80's, television went through a period in which showing of what "real men" did included building gadgets and coming up with creative fixes. Each episode of the A-Team contained a montage of B.A. Baracus (Mr. T) building some necessary vehicle or fortress in order for the team to help solve some victim's dilemma. However, no show was better at it than the Richard Dean Anderson classic, MacGyver. With the tagline, "His Mind Is The Ultimate Weapon," MacGyver was the guy into maker spaces before there were maker spaces. He was known as the character who could build any gadget, make any escape, or solve any problem with his pocket knife, some duct tape, a paperclip, and whatever else was laying around. Furthermore, he would explain it to you as he built it. It was a cool time when fictional characters did more than simply drop one liners, they did real things too.

In the 80's, it wasn't a big stretch to see guys building things because we all knew those guys. The ones who just did home improvements, tuned their cars, got up on the roof and fixed the roof. It was a time when real people actually fixed things. If something didn't work, we didn't just go back to the store and return it, but we went to the repair shop to fix it or you found your guy. I've been lucky enough to have two such MacGyver's in my life. Uncle Deedles was the original. He built an entire cabin in Canada. He had a blow torch in his garage and an oscilloscope in is his basement. I remember him hooking up motors and running pulleys. He always had something in the works. Uncle Deedles moved to the Pacific Northwest in the 80's and I went MacGyver-less until the mid-90's. Then I met my father-in-law Don.

Don was a throwback. Like Deedles, he had a 100 different projects in the works. His basement was a treasure chest of tools. There were saws, grinders, wires, wrenches, and conduit. He was always fixing something, and like MacGyver always willing to tell you how he was doing it. Not only was he the dad who would be waiting up for you on the couch to return with his daughter from a date, he would want to tell you about the project of the day when you got there.

As a first-time homeowner, Don was the father-in law you wanted to have. He taught me how to snake the plumbing and install a sink. He was there on a weekly basis as I finished up the basement, teaching me to frame the room, bend conduit, install electrical, and tape drywall. Don would stop by each week, teach me a skill, give me homework, and comeback to check if I'd done it right.
Don knew things that most college-grads never dreamed of. He was a guy who did his own tune-ups and oil changes. Taught me how to change brake pads. He barbecued and fixed things. And most of his projects were mostly done most of the time. Over the past few years, Don slowed down. As many of us, not being able to do the projects he once did. But his gifts didn't slow down. Last year, my friends were rebuilding their kitchen. Logan, my youngest son, and I went over to Don's, borrowed the reciprocating saw, the pipe bender, and a couple of sledge hammers and went to work to help them. For a couple of months, there we were. Hammering away, hanging in the crawlspace running conduit and fishing wire. A young man learning to be the next generation of MacGyver as he hung with his dad.

It's been a hard week around here. Last Saturday we lost Uncle Deedles and yesterday morning, Grandad Don passed away. While I sit here crying, writing, and crying, I look at little reminders and realize that your gifts go from generation to generation. While you might be lost, your legacy lives on. Although my friends may think I'm handy, I am a poor substitute. My brother Roy is the MacGyver of my generation. He's the guy when you need to go down the pit to fix the well or sweat copper, you call. As I look at the next generation,  Cameron is me in far too many ways to count, a digital child who is the son of a digital child. However, Logan is very much both of you. Last night, there he was building away at some creation. Some cardboard, tinker toys, trinkets, and other stuff. Little projects started here and there. Pausing to explain to anyone who would listen, how the creation works and what it does. An engineer coming into his own living in a world that once again embraces creativity, innovation, and maker spaces. He will be the MacGyver of his generation. L'Dor V'Dor, the Hebrew saying of from generation to generation.

MacGyver

Dare To Be Different or True to Thy Self

Growing up, my aunt and uncle lived just down the street. Frequently when my parents weren't home, I would spend time hanging out at their house. Sometimes I would be annoying my cousins or being tormented by them, depending on the day, sitting with my aunt discover new plays, television shows, or foods, or watching my uncle build something creative. Everything there was unique and different. It was a potpourri of creativity.

From my eyes, my uncle was very talented, creative, and practical. In the view of a seven year old boy, he had a gruff exterior but a warm heart. Long before being environmental was popular he built a greenhouse from an old porch area and connected it to the house. All year long there were unique things growing inside. He had a garden area where he grew plants. Before stir fry became a thing, he made "geevil" a bunch of fresh vegetables sautéed together with whatever was left in the fridge. He built a deck on the back of his house that connected to the second floor and had the greatest lamb on a spit that I can remember. For life in the late seventies and early eighties he walked upon a different path.

As I knew my uncle, he was a thinker and a tinkerer. I remember taking long evening walks with him, my dad, and the dogs. We traveled the streets of Downers Grove for what I believe was miles, but I was a kid. As we walked he would talk about politics and science. He would express thoughtful views on so many things in the world. My dad and him would analyze everything as if they were in the salons of Europe two hundred years earlier.

In an era of Cold War politics and yuppy materialism, my uncle was the tinkerer who rebuilt everything, drove around an old right-handed drive post office jeep with the dog in the passenger seat, and retreated each year to an isolated cabin in Canada with no running water. In an era that pushed for conformity, he walked a different path. He found meaning in other things and showed my brother and I that there were other things one could do. He was a successful business owner, yet found meaning in things far greater than that.

As we raise our children, are we giving them the courage to be different? Do we give them the opportunity to explore their interests and be one with themselves? Living life within our true interests and self requires a tremendous amount of inner peace. I thank my aunt and uncle for helping teach me this. As I look at the lives my cousins, my brothers, and I lead I see it. I see it in a daughter who each year participates in Doctors without Borders, a granddaughter who plays roller derby, a son with a deeply religious family, a nephew who builds the most amazing creations and works deeply to preserve our world and another nephew who studies the ancient world. Very different lives in a world that likes sameness.

Last night we lost Uncle Deedles. While I hadn't seen him often since they moved to the west coast. Each time I had the opportunity it was like picking up exactly where we left off. Thank you for teaching each of us it was ok to question assumptions, be unique, and live different lives. It may not have been in words, but it was modeled in everything you did. 

Logan and I are going to go for a walk now. Maybe its time we got a dog too. 

We will miss you.

Dare To Be Great

I had breakfast with a former colleague the other day. Like many of us, we reflected on old times and shared stories of new adventures. Each time we get together, I discover a little more about the times when we worked together. There are layers of relationships, ones we share when first meet people, ones we share when we are in the trenches, ones we share when our roads part, and ones we share when time has past and the journey is but a distant memory. Time imparts wisdom, safety, and virtue. It makes our success all the brighter and our struggles all the dimmer.

The colleague's story was one of how slight changes make a big difference. In our past work together, we had developed systems to support student learning and promote interdependence for staff in order to facilitate student learning. Simply we found unique ways for teachers and support staff to team together in order to provide more specified instruction to meet children where they were at. Systems were developed to support both academic and social growth. The trick was, times had changed, students had changed, staff had changed, and leaders had changed. As a result, while the systems still existed, few understood the core values of why they were in place and what values were hoped to be derived from them. Thus, overtime, like any mechanism they were beginning to rust and decay. People were still doing because they were required to still do, but with out the vigor, value, and investment of previous generations, and as a result without the effectiveness.

In listening to my colleague's story, I began to understand that leaders don't just tell us how to do things, but rather help us buy into a vision or purpose. At each level, teacher, coach, principal, district leader, board member, our leaders invest us in a common purpose, drive their actions towards the purpose, and help give us the tools to accomplish that purpose. As individuals we seek out that dare to be great situation. We recognize that challenges are not easy, but within us we each strive to be vested in experiences that matter, experiences that make a differences, and experiences in which we can be vital towards the success. It is one of the leader's roles to put forth the opportunity for us to be in these dare to be great situations. When given the challenge, the mission, and the resources, we are all capable and willing to be contributors, leaders, and difference makers.

One can have the best resources in the land, the best materials to work with, the most staff available, and while these help, they are only part of the solution. Success is not simply about the tools we have but also the purpose for which we strive. As leaders, whether in the classroom or of the organization, it is our task to ignite our co-workers with the fire of challenge and purpose, the recognition that we can be part of something unique and innovative. That we, because of our unique tools and purpose, can be a vital contributor to the outcome. This is something my colleague and once felt and now missed. It is something I hope to help find again.

You need people of intelligence on this sort of ... mission... quest... thing. - Peregrin "Pippin" Took

Debating the Outcome for the Ring

Different Gifts

A few years back, a good friend of mine turned me on to the show Monk. The story of an "Obsessive Compulsive Detective." In the show, Tony Shalhoub plays the character of a brilliant former police detective with a range of phobias and compulsions who assists police in solving mysteries and crimes. The character brings brilliance, insights, and challenges, making the show quirky, fun, and full of heart. There are a plethora of police solving mystery shows, the reason this resonated with fans was that the show brought humanity through the teaching of tolerance, acceptance, and inclusion.

See when we teach tolerance and inclusion, so often whether we like it or not, the perspective learned is that this is about the less-abled or those funny people over there. The conversation is about why do you notice a child or a person is different and how do you come to accept that difference as being "Ok." The creators of Monk took it from a different perspective. The show started with sympathetic supporting characters who were just trying to help Monk survive in the world. However, soon the show shifted and the supporting characters began to realize that they were being successful because of the differences and unique characteristics Monk brought to the team. The lives of the team and eventually the viewer were enriched and empowered because of Monk's different gifts.

In schools, so often we want children to learn similar things, make similar products, accomplish similar tasks. We praise them for being creative when the embellish small aspects and provide individual flavor. We teach children to become very similar while talking to them about their own personal uniqueness. It should be no surprise that eventually they cry out to be different.

When we look for these children to enter the workplace, we look for the differences. We look for what makes them unique, the creative strengths they bring to the table that makes our workplace a more effective unit. We look to find the blend of enough similarities that coworkers and clients can accept the individual and enough differences to help the team innovate, create, and move the team forward. If we start with this perspective of teaching that we are better because we work with people who see the world very differently and can create different things that help us all grow, then perhaps it will be easier to mold our children into these successful future employees and neighbors.

Just like in Monk, we need people who see the world from a different slant. Those that take in information differently, think differently, and make things we could never dream of. In a country that cries out for similarity, it is time to encourage difference. Difference in the products we expect, difference in the way children explore learning, and difference in the way we encourage them to find their path. When our children are first in the sandbox, they don't see shades of skin, they don't see how fast or slow a child talks. They see the cool sand thingy that child is playing with. Inclusion and tolerance are not conversations about accepting others but rather acts of engaging others who uniquely make our lives more exciting, more interesting and more fulfilled. It's time we recognize that each child has different gifts, some are just more obvious than others. We need to encourage these different gifts rather than drive it from them if we want to grow as a society.

Mr. Monk and the Computer

It's a Jungle Out There