Nearly 39 years ago, people walked into theaters awed by the grandeur of Star Wars. From the initial special effects laden shot of the rebel ship being chased by a Star Destroyer going over our heads to the Millennium Falcon escaping the Death Star, the movie grabbed our attention in ways that we had not seen before. Each time we watched, we were engaged in a 121 minute ride of awesomeness.
While Star Wars was the space-western of our time, it's appeal has transcended generations. Battlestar Galactica came and went and came and went again. Predator, Aliens, Terminator all came, all went, rinse... repeat. Star Wars was and is different than most space-westerns. Sure it's a story of grandeur, epic challenges, and good versus evil. But it is also a story of finding the best within ourselves.
Star Wars is a story of their being more in each of us than anyone would expect. Whether you are a farm boy from the desolate regions or a smuggler living from payday to payday there is more in each of us. It is a story that grabbed me as a child and grabs many of us when we are open to it. This generation's Star Wars is no different. When faced with adversity, and needing to find something special within oneself. Finn tells Han Solo, "we'll figure it out. We'll use the Force." Star Wars resonates because it talks about each of us being more than what we imagine ourselves to be. We are in the cocoon, waiting to awaken. When we reach out, what hidden talents might each of us discover. As we walk through the days of Spring, perhaps it is time that we look at each of us, our friends, our children, our students and ask what awakening may occur today.
Growing up I knew phone numbers. It was important that I knew at least 15 of them. I knew my mom's work number, the house number, my friends' house numbers, and dad's work number. Seven digit numeric sequences that were paramount to my day to day functioning. Without them, I couldn't make it day to day. Socially, my world was integrated through asking my parents permission to do things and connecting to my friends. The important life aspect of this was the connection, the memorization of the phone numbers was the key to unlock the opportunity, in no way was it vital to the opportunity.
In the 20th century, business leaders were so important that they had secretaries whose sole job was to organize their day. The secretary kept track of the schedule, facilitated appointments, managed key contacts, and helped the business leader pace the day. In the 1980's, more and more business was on the move. As a result Filofax's and Franklin Covey planners rose to prominence. Inside people kept the key information of their lives. Calendars, contacts, credit cards, and meeting notes all in one place. The problem being solved was one Gary Larson put so eloquently in this Far Side cartoon:
Needing something to keep track of all of the information we need to have in life is not a new problem. It is simply a problem we are getting better at solving. The 1990 Charles Grodin-Jim Belushi movie, Taking Care of Business, was centered around the premise of what were to happen to a person if they accidentally left behind their Filofax at an airport. The antics surround an individual trying to establish his identity and another impersonating him, with a fun side story of the Cubs trying to win the World Series. The reality is remembering key information is not a new problem, our ways of coping with it are better.
Frequently I hear concerns, what would these kids do without their devices. Inside it is their lives. Their music, their messages, their contacts, and their calendars. In saying this, we are like the old criminals on a Scooby Doo episode. We are curmudgeons mistaking tool for the objective. The device, like the phone number is simply the key to the lock. The child's texts are simply a replacement for hours on the phone with their friends. Youtube, Spotify, Apple Music and Pandora have simply replaced our CD players and boom boxes. Our calendars have moved from unwieldy Chandlers that if lost our lives would be in peril to digital images that we can pull up on a phone or a watch.
The truth is that I remember my friend's Steve's home phone number during middle school better that I know our "landline" phone number right now. If I, my wife, or my sons, lose "these devices," our key information is mostly secure, encrypted, and can instantly be pulled down from a back up or accessed by us on the web. Now we have the opportunity to instead of remembering the minute details that opened the doors to relationships, conversations, and business to focus on these interactions instead. As Jim Belushi reminds Charles Grodin after catching Mark Grace's fictional home run in the World Series, it's important to see the moment rather than working towards getting to the event.
When a child is a young star athlete, they stand out. They are the ones who play soccer or basketball and dribble from one side of the field to the other and no one touches them. In football, they are the child who is the running back/linebacker moving from side to side making everything happen. In baseball, they rotate between shortstop, centerfield, and pitcher. When that child is on the mound or at the plate, you know it. There is a different sound as their pitch hits the catcher's mitt or their bat cracks as they hit the ball. At early ages they are simply better than the field.
As these athletes get older, the field thins out to be only the stars. The talent difference for the most part diminishes and we look for where the athlete fits. The system the athlete starred in now becomes a key factor in identifying both the past success and future possibilities of the athlete. Football is a great example of this. In college, many offenses play the spread offense. This is different from the NFL. As a result many quarterbacks and offensive lineman are questioned in regards to their potential in the NFL. The concern is can they transition between systems or are they simply a product of the system.
Basketball is the same way. In college you see a myriad of schemes. Syracuse's famous zone defense, the triangle offense, motion offenses, isolation offenses, the Princeton offense. Each of these schemes are very different and players that play within these systems are questioned as to whether it is the player or the system that drives the athlete to success. In the NBA, scouts and general managers look at the success of second round pick Draymond Green and question how did they miss him. The underlying question is Draymond Green a star or a product of playing in the Golden State system.
While for athletes in many sports, we often have multiple systems available to promote success and drive innovation, the same is not as true in education. Essentially, we ask each child to learn the same things at the same time. We move them through a grade-based system in which every mistake penalizes them, focusing them on achieving perfection the first time out or selecting courses at a lower level so that they will not receive as many penalties. Reshma Saujani points out in her fantastic TED talk, that this is even more true for girls than boys. We systematize our students to become risk adverse. Rewarding innovation only within a slim context of content area production.
The results are worrisome and staggering. When employers indicate the modern student isn't ready for the work force, the reality is that the modern student has worked within a system where the only goal is the minimize mistakes to maintain an acceptable level of achievement. Rarely do we cultivate a system in which children are encouraged to try new things, look at problems (not simply more questions from a textbook), and create new solutions. Rarely do we create an environment in which team success is paramount rather than individual mistake avoidance.
This week, Tesla unveiled the Model 3. An innovative electric car aimed at mass-market production. The product itself is a combination of numerous innovations. Each product Tesla has made relies on risks, creativity, out of the box thinking and team collaboration. Tesla, like Apple and Google, need workers who are not simply risk adverse, but are willing to explore, try, fail, innovate, create, and collaborate. Is our system creating these products or will our students need to rise above the system in order to be successful? If they need to rise above the system, is it time to reconsider our work?
Baseball season is around the corner. It's an amazing game. A game that appeals to those who have played, those who watch, and those who love math. For those that have played there is a certain feel, a memory, of standing in the batter's box. A moment staring down towards the pitcher, waiting, anticipating, the quick inhale as the ball comes and the energy as one unloads the bat. An insatiable sequence in which all that exists is a pitcher, yourself, and a ball hurling towards you. It is something that pulls you back towards the game whether you are 14 or 54. As an observer, there is a dramatic artistry that plays in front of you. After the initial batting sequence, this small white pellet is flung into the field. At times we see routine plays in which one sits under the ball and waits patiently for it to fall from the sky. At other times we see acrobatics as shortstops dive and flip for the ball or outfielders run as if they were gazelles streaking across the field eventually climbing the wall to grasp the ball before it lands. A play that moves from quiet stillness to dramatic exuberance in a heartbeat.
The interesting thing is that baseball offices are no longer run by former players, experts in the action, but now mathematicians. Graduates from Harvard, Yale, and Amherst. Computer nerds who run statistical models and probability. Individuals that loved the game but may not have been able to play it very well. They have charts, graphs, regression analysis, and spread diagrams. They know what area of the strike zone to swing and when to walk away. Baseball leaders, who are essentially mathematical gamblers, measuring payoffs of certain types of risks in relationship to the impact on winning. Within these models, there too is an elegance, exuberance, and energy. These are the leaders choosing rosters, guiding decisions, and facilitating the game.
Education has become full of metrics. Comparable data points in which we believe we can measure student development, teacher impact, programatic impact, and learning engagement. We create opportunities for student goals, teacher goals, administrative goals, and district goals. Measurable items that analyze change over periods of time. Metrics break things down into components and assume these pieces add up to a greater whole.
Carlos Quentin, like many baseball players, was a very analytical individual. He was constantly watching film, making adjustments, thinking about his swing. He consistently looked at metrics and was known for overthinking each at bat and each performance. Carlos constantly analyzed himself, seeking data on how much he could improve. This journey consistently had him underperforming his talent. He was known as an uptight, super focused individual. However, in 2008, as a member of the Chicago White Sox, Carlos was having a career year. It all seemed to be coming together. He was hitting .286 with 36 home runs when batting against Cliff Lee he became so frustrated with one of his swings that he punched his bat. Carlos broke his wrist, loosing the season and never regaining MVP form again.
More and more we are teaching students and teachers to focus on the metrics. It is an important, valuable, and dangerous path. A child focusing on a time-bound achievement goal may become so mechanical, that they lose the flow and ease of the product. Imagine a young reader, focusing on how many words per minute they can read. Focusing so much on speed that they lose comprehension. Imagine a teacher driven by the same words per minute metric that they don't halt the child so they can make their evaluation goal.
Metrics are becoming our film room. Ways in which we are analyzing and at times overanalyzing our practice. Metrics are valuable as they tell us about what we are seeing on the field and in the classroom, but they are only one measure of the art before us. In the end, it is the art and the game that matter, not simply the mathematical performance predictors.
In the 80's we learned courage was going in face first against all odds. Courage was standing up to the impossible. All of the movies glorified it. Who couldn't remember John Rambo taking on all of the Vietnamese in Rambo: First Blood Part II, John McClane taking on German terrorists in Nakatomi Plaza in Die Hard, or even Jimmy Chitwood sinking basket after basket as Hickory defeats Southbend in Hoosiers. Courage was something only amazing individuals possessed. Something that was hard to find within ourselves. Finding the courage inside was the theme of almost every movie.
As we grow up, we discover we aren't the bigger than life hero. Even though we want to be Joe and leave the drudgery of the office to go out into the wider world, we discover our realm is safe. Things happen. We find jobs, grow lives, become responsible for others, discover mortgages, bills, and taxes. Life becomes easier as we learn to play it safe. Soon the office becomes our lives and the theme music of life's dreams moseys into the sunset.
Over time we become risk averse. Less willing to share in front of others for fear of being judged. Less willing to try innovative ideas for fear of failing and losing either status or our livelihoods. Fear and desire for stability entrenches us in our status quo. Our inner creativity can often die as courage becomes an attribute of others.
However, there become times when others help us find it within ourselves. No, we aren't going to pick up the rifle and save the foreign language students from terrorists. Rather we find the courage to stand up and try something new. To share an idea. To present something you tried just yesterday. To be open and fallible with others. At our inservice yesterday, I saw teachers present ideas before their colleagues that they themselves were just exploring. New thoughts and techniques that had been tried for just the last few weeks or even few days. Individuals who had never shared before standing before their colleagues and saying, "Hey this isn't perfect, but I am liking the adventure." Sharing their risks and their students responses.
These individuals are finding the inner strength to say I have something to share. Becoming leaders in their own right. Encouraged perhaps by a colleague, a coach, or a principal. Discovering the courage to share, innovate, and create. A courage perhaps more needed and more important than one fighting a hopeless battle against all odds. A courage all of us need. In taking the risk, being fallible in front of their peers, they become the coach, the risk-taker, the encourage. Courage breeds courage. Thank you to those who took risks to share, encouraging us all to find the courage to share more.
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.
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.
