Thursday, February 13, 2014

Value of a Conference

I had the opportunity to attend the OESIS West Conference last week and was reminded of the value of a conference. I attended some really interesting sessions and heard some great keynotes. I was really looking forward to hearing Angela Maiers speak and she certainly lived up to her reputation. I was blown away when she introduced Brigadier General John Michel, Commanding General NATO Air Training Command - Afghanistan, to share how technology is changing lives for the better in Afghanistan. I had the opportunity to present a few sessions and have some great dialogue with educators who are passionate about using blended and online learning to reach students. The added bonus is that I was in Los Angeles and dodged another winter storm back home in Ohio. But neither the change of scenery nor the sessions/keynotes are what I will carry back with me as a reminder of my conference experience.

For me, it’s the relationships that I formed while attending the conferences that will help me to continue to grow professionally. The real learning didn’t happen in the sessions or keynotes as I sat passively and listened (even though the content was good).  The real learning happened in the halls between the sessions, at the social events, on Twitter, during meals, anywhere that people who were fueled by the interest to improve education were congregating, talking, and networking. It was the sessions that sparked many of these conversations, but the real value came from continuing those conversations.

Conferences are a great opportunity to get away from our home base, our comfort zone, and expand our thinking by networking and connecting with others who may have a different perspective but share the same passion.

It can be totally awkward to talk to someone you never met or just walk up to someone you know from social media and say “Hi”, but in every case it is worth the risk. It’s in these unique moments that we build relationships with folks who will continue to challenge, inspire, and help us grow.  In return, we get to do the same for them.

If the real learning happens, for adults, in the conversations and relationships, don’t you think the same can hold true for students? Are we building in enough time for them to collaborate, discuss, and connect their learning with their peers, both inside and outside of our classrooms? Blended and online learning can be a bridge to open up new collaborative opportunities for students. Education isn’t about how much we teach in a 50-minute period, it’s about how much they take with them and use over a lifetime.



Thursday, January 30, 2014

It's Just There...

This post originally appeared on Keeping Pace on January 24, 2014

Recently Keeping Pace blogged on “Getting computers and high-speed Internet access into schools: the Louisiana example.” This post reminded me of a story I heard Dr. Michio Kaku share at the eTech Ohio Conference a few years ago. The story he shared went something like this...


Years ago people walked into a room and were in awe that electricity was present. They noticed the indoor lighting and it became a topic of conversation. Over time, electricity was accepted as the norm and we no longer walk into a venue and note that it has indoor lighting or power. It’s expected.

Today we walk into a classroom and comment on how many iPads, Chromebooks, or other devices we see. We should have the same expectation of technology in a classroom as we have in electricity. We shouldn’t be focused on the technology (or the electricity) in the room; it should just be an expected part of any classroom. The conversation should be on what the students are creating and learning - not on the tools that they are using to do so. When this happens, we will truly be preparing students for college and career readiness.

Monday, January 20, 2014

Candy Crush Education

This post was originally published at kpk12.com/blog on January 17, 2014

A few months ago I decided to join the throngs of folks who were playing Candy Crush Saga. My kids had been playing for a while and other adults I know had dabbled a bit with the game. At first, I found the game to be a bit sophomoric, but then I hit level 33 and realized that the game can be a little challenging at times. I stuck with it and this weekend I realized that I’ve actually learned a lot about good education from my Candy Crush addiction experiment.

When you start playing Candy Crush, there are only a couple of candy colors to play with and limited obstacles in your way. Mastery comes relatively easy and encourages you to play on. As you master the beginning levels there are new colors, new obstacles, and new episodes (levels where new layers of complexity are added). In education, when we are learning something new we start at the beginning to build our foundation. Once we have the basics down we learn more, apply our knowledge in new ways, and better understand the intricacies of our knowledge. Think of your K-12 education where you started math by counting but by the end you were able to understand the derivative of a double angle (hopefully). Candy Crush is a great example of Vygotsky’s zone of proximal development.

In Candy Crush, sometimes you succeed and sometimes you fail. Yes, you literally FAIL! I know this because I’ve experienced it first-hand and listen sympathetically (not really) when my husband complains that he sees the “you failed” message. But the truth of the matter is that in real life, we fail all the time. Thomas Edison failed 10,000 times, yet we don’t view him as a failure. In Candy Crush, when you fail a level you just start over and try again, just like Edison. Failure is an iteration in the Candy Crush world. However, in education sometimes we accept failure as the end of the event and not an opportunity to reboot. If my son fails an Economics test at the end of the chapter, that’s his grade and they move onto the next chapter. He doesn’t have the option to attempt the material again or show mastery at a later date. It’s pass or fail at a given point in time and the march goes on.  This model doesn’t encourage real learning or mastery. Instead it sends the message that failure is bad and can’t be overcome.

In Candy Crush Saga, you earn a life every thirty minutes, up to a five live maximum. Sometimes I can blow through all of those lives in a matter of five minutes. When this happens I have to wait to earn more lives. This is the game’s way of pacing me so that I don’t rush through everything. It forces me to take a break (or change the time on my iPad) and clear my head. It’s harder for me to get burned out this way. We should allow students the same opportunity to take break and come back to something when the going gets too frustrating. “A growing body of evidence shows that taking regular breaks from mental tasks improves productivity and creativity — and that skipping breaks can lead to stress and exhaustion” (New York Times, June 2012).

New episodes in Candy Crush introduce new challenges and objects. If I don’t know what a new piece is or how it will behave I have two options. I can experiment with it and see if I can figure it out on my own or I can visit the Candy Crush Wikia and learn more. The wikia is a collaborative site created by Candy Crushites (I just made that up) that shares tips and tricks to help you understand and master Candy Crush. I can choose to experiment or collaborate when I’m confronted with the unknown. These are both great strategies that may be underutilized in the classroom. In fact, collaboration and experimentation (problem-solving) are both recognized as important 21st century skills.


Candy Crush is a free download and while I’ve never personally paid for any extra lives or boosters, the Atlanta Journal and Constitution reports that Candy Crush Saga makes over $860,000 a day in revenue. This is a staggering amount of revenue and clearly indicates that there is a large population of folks who are willing to pay to continue on their journey. I think there is more to be learned about education from Candy Crush and am already drafting part two of this post. In the meantime, I’m going to continue my Candy Crush Saga adventure – level 263 is vexing me.

Friday, December 13, 2013

Here's to Failure

This morning I saw a segment on ESPN featuring 10 amazing accomplishments by female athletes.  On the list was Diana Nyad’s recent swim from Cuba to Florida without the help of a shark cage. She was the first person to ever accomplish this feat. It took her about 53 hours to swim the 110 miles. Now this story is interesting to me on a couple of levels.

First, I am a huge advocate of passion-based learning. As an educator, I believe that when we truly understand the passions of our students and create learning experiences for them that take advantage of those passions there is no limit to what they can accomplish. Diana had a passion for swimming and a goal of setting a record by making a daunting swim through shark infested sea water. Not something that I would personally consider, but it was her passion and she was determined to make it happen.

Second, I believe that unsuccessful endeavors (failures) are sometimes the best learning experiences that we can have. You see, this wasn’t Diana’s first attempt to make this historic swim. In fact, it was her fifth-attempt with each of the previous four ending short of her goal. Diana looked at the first four attempts as learning opportunities. Each time she stepped back in the water she made adjustments based on her previous trials and managed to get a little closer to her goal.

Too often in education we don’t allow our students enough opportunities to learn from their mistakes. We see failure as the end of a learning path, an “F” on a test, and not as a pit stop on the journey. When we do this we teach students that failure is bad, when in fact it’s a natural part of learning. Failure should be viewed as an authentic learning opportunity. Imagine how different Diana’s life would have been if she had viewed her first failed attempt in 1978 as the end of her journey and not as a pit stop on the way to fulfill her passion.

When Diana emerged on the Florida beach she said, “I have three messages. One is, we should never, ever give up. Two is, you’re never too old to chase your dream. Three is, it looks like a solitary sport, but it is a team.” I think each one of these statements applies to education. One is, we should never allow our students to accept failure as the end, to give up on learning, and we can’t give up on them just because they found a pit stop we didn’t expect. Two is, we need to help our students understand their passions and enable them to reach those dreams. Three is, learning is not a solitary activity, it is a collaborative endeavor and we need to encourage that philosophy.

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

"It's Easier to Learn"

I first met Mentor School’s Superintendent, Matt Miller, and Director of Educational Technology and Curricular Innovation, Jeremy Shorr, in the twittersphere over a year ago.  As we continued to tweet and get to know each other professionally we learned that we had a lot in common. We all value student-centric learning environments, are passionate about the power of education, believe that the classroom teacher will always play a central role in education, see the power of technology tools to transform education, and aren’t afraid to step out of our comfort zone (or push others outside of theirs). Over the past year, I’ve had the opportunity to interact with Matt and Jeremy at various national and local conference (e.g., iNACOL, ISTE, OETC, etc...).  Each time that we run into each other we end up talking about blended learning. So, when I saw Mentor Schools named as a school to visit in a recent Getting Smart blog post, I decided it was time to stop by and see how Mentor was using blended learning.


Matt and Jeremy met me at Ridge Middle School where I was introduced to principal Megan Kinsey. We started by talking blended philosophy. Ridge Middle School’s blended learning model hinges on small group instruction. By definition, it’s a station rotation model, but what struck me from our conversation is that everything came back to small group instruction. The Mentor team understands that blended learning isn’t about the technology - it’s about using tools (many of which included technology) to allow the classroom teacher to personalize learning through small group instruction.


Blended learning is new to Ridge this year and they are starting with 7th grade students. Each student has an iPad and teachers use Schoology to organize content in the digital learning space. Classrooms have been reconfigured using flexible furniture to allow for fluid movement. Cinderblock walls have been covered with clear plexiglass so that students can use them as impromptu writing spaces when working collaboratively. The classrooms are designed so that there is no “front of the room.” This may seem trivial but it’s at the heart of what blended learning means in Mentor - it’s about putting the students in control of their learning with the teacher there to guide and redirect as needed. There is no purpose in the teacher standing in the front of the room, thus there is no front of the room.

One classroom that we visited had the learning targets posted on a board. Students in the classroom placed postage sized pictures of themselves under the target on which they were working. The students told us this was so that they knew who else was at the same place they were so that they could work collaboratively when they needed help. This also gives the teacher an easy visual of where each student is along the curriculum continuum.


As I was leaving one classroom today, I asked a student what he thought of this new learning model. His exact words to me: “It’s easier to learn this way.” I think that sums up why blended learning is so important. The student didn’t say his classes were easy, he said, “It’s easier to learn this way.” Classes shouldn’t be easy, but learning should be. When we implement high quality blended learning we personalize the classroom for individual students and remove barriers that make the act of learning difficult.


Thank you Matt, Jeremy, and Megan for giving me a chance to see how Mentor Schools is implementing blended learning and more importantly for putting the educational needs of Mentor students in the front of your classrooms.

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

What Gets Me Up In The Morning

I often hear educators talk about what keeps them up in the night. Sometimes it’s grading essays (why I taught mathematics), or the new standardized assessment, or that one student who knows how to play basketball on your last remaining nerve. There are lots of things that can keep educators (and other professionals) up at night. I prefer to focus on what gets me up in the morning.

My first year teaching was at an inner-city Catholic school. I know that many readers will see Catholic school and think it was a cushy gig with smiling angels for children. It wasn’t that way for an instant. It was every bit an inner-city school that focused on Catholic values within the curriculum. Many of the students were on vouchers and almost all of them were living in poverty. Now, that does not mean they were bad kids, they were just growing up in a challenging environment. In fact, when I look back at my time in the classroom, it’s one child, symbolic of many, that gets me up in the morning. Her name is Alba Kozlov*.

At the time, Alba was in sixth grade. She was quiet and a bit socially awkward at a time when fitting in with your peers is highly valued. Alba and I spent many a lunch together. Sometimes she needed a little help with her math and other times she would offer to sweep the classroom floor or anything to keep from having to go to recess with her classmates. I was always available to help students with math during lunch, but every once in a while I thought it would have been nice to have a lunch period to myself. Sure it was great to have Alba help keep the classroom tidy, but that also meant I didn’t get any downtime. As a new teacher, I didn’t realize how valuable my time with Alba was going to become to both of us.

Alba shared a lot about her home life and sixth-grade-girl drama with me. I began to understand her as a person, not just as a student. As we grew to know each other, it’s not surprising that Alba’s math scores skyrocketed. What was surprising was how excited I was to get to school each day to hear about her night and see how she was doing.

I won’t sugarcoat it. My first year teaching was rough. I paid more in gas to get to school than I was making. I had some rough times and even fled the classroom in tears one day. I thought about leaving. After all, I had just left a lucrative business career to become a teacher, so I could go back to Plan A. The teacher next door to me, who I relied on as a friend and colleague, didn’t come back from Christmas break. There were discipline issues and there were limited funds for teaching supplies and resources. On some days, I was all my students had. But thanks to Alba, I had a reason to get to school in the morning.

As a parent, I had spent lots of money and time taking my children shopping for teacher gifts each Christmas. As my first Christmas as a teacher approached, I was fully prepared to get an assortment of lotions and candles. What I wasn’t prepared for was the gift that Alba gave me. Alba couldn’t afford to buy me a traditional gift, but Alba valued my presence in her life and wanted me to know. So Alba did the best that she could. She grabbed one of those fold over plastic sandwich bags from home and filled it with things from her room. Things that mattered to her. Alba gave me a baggie with three used crayons, a sheet of Disney princess stickers, a few small colored erasers, and some paper clips. She gave it to me during one of our lunch sessions with an apology because it was all she could afford. I looked at that bag and cried, but for the first time that year I was crying because I realized how much I meant to a child.

I came home that day with a variety of teacher gifts, all of which have disappeared somewhere along time, except for Alba’s bag. It sits in a curio cabinet in my home along with Alba’s handwritten note. I pass it each day as I leave for work and it reminds me that as an educator I have an opportunity and an obligation to leave the things that keep me up at night outside my classroom and allow the things that get me up in the morning to make me the educator that my students deserve.

*Not her real name

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Ode to the Swans

Let me start with an apology to my friends who are English teachers. Someone once told me that if you want to get your blog read you have to have a catchy title. Hence, I named this post “Ode to the Swans.” You have to admit that if you’re reading this now you either found the title catchy or you’re related to me by blood or marriage. My apology stems from the fact that this is not an ode, nor would I even know how to write an ode (or a haiku for that matter). You see, while I have a few friends that are amazing English teachers; I don’t recall ever having had an amazing English teacher, or a Swan of an English teacher.

As we go through life, hopefully we have all had a teacher or two who left a positive mark on our life. Sure there were the teachers who effectively performed their job duties and the rarer few who it would be a stretch to even say that about. This post isn’t about them. You see those are the ducks and the occasional ugly duckling. The ones who swim about in the pond, let the water roll of their backs, and get through each day by maintaining the current state of affairs. Every once in a while a Swan enters the pond. The Swan is the epitome of grace and manages to fit in and stand out in any crowd, all at the same time. This post is for the teachers who are that metaphorical Swan.

I don’t think it’s a surprise that a Swan is loyal for life. The Swan teachers that I know really take the time to understand each student as an individual. The Swan builds a relationship with others that serves as the foundation for learning. A Swan is there to scaffold for you when you are drowning, to challenge you when you coasting, and to celebrate with you when you make it across the pond.

The Swan is adaptable. It has a plan of action for the day, but knows that the plan may change with the winds, that each day and each stroke has to be personalized to the unique needs of the classroom and the individual students. The Swan isn’t comfortable with just sitting in the middle of the pond and reaching most students. The Swan understands that there are students wading in the shallow end and others trying to see how deep they can dive. The entire pond, with all of its inhabitants, is within the reach of the Swan.

The Swan is a symbol of strength and power in a chaotic world. The inhabitants of the pond know that they can turn to the Swan in times of need. The Swan is a confidant - loyal and trustworthy. When the waters are rough the Swan makes a large pond seem like a safe backyard blue plastic pool.

As educators, we have a choice each day to either be a Swan, a duck, or an ugly duckling. The legacy that we leave as teachers is our mark on our students. That mark can be fleeting or enduring. The Swan helps to shape a child into a remarkable adult. The Swan touches the soul of the child. What kind of teacher will you be today?

The swan stands out with
Rarest beauty leaving mark
On all who pass by

Thank you Mrs. Sawan for being a metaphorical Swan for my children.

I challenge you to share this post with your Swans. Add your Swan’s name in the comments below.