Amplification of Small Movements

It has been more than a week since I returned from ISTE 2012 in San Diego, and I am still collecting my thoughts about what the conference meant for me and what it meant to me.  With anywhere from 15000-20000 'like-minded' (and I use that term loosely, because of course there would have been a wide spectrum of thoughts and ideas there) individuals in close proximity, I am still reeling from the crackling energy that you could tangibly feel at the end of each session.

One of my main goals for going to ISTE was to network with people and to soak up the multitude of different ideas that were happening on the ground, in classrooms and schools.  I tried to speak with as many people as I could, and interestingly, I found a similar theme weaving its way through a number of the conversations.  In each instance in which I chatted with a group of people, there would be groups of 2-6 educators from the same school or area who were looking to bring back innovative ideas that would help them to make changes in their districts, and to share great ideas of their own.  The creative juices were flowing, and the environment was exciting. 

But inevitably in each conversation, and certainly in a number of the sessions that I attended, you would hear a refrain of "Where are the Superintendents?", or "Where are the Principals?", or "I wish we had more teachers here!".   Often, there was a tone of resignation: people felt that without having those in leadership positions at ISTE to hear the important messages 'from the horse's mouth' of the conference, that those messages would be lost. Or, if there were not enough teachers from an area to create a critical mass, the idea would be washed away by the day-to-day business that swamps schools each days. These questions and comments were not necessarily derisive, but more the result of people (like me) wanting to make significant changes as rapidly as they possibly could.

Speaking from my own experiences, it can be very easy to get pulled into a mindset of helplessness in these situations.  How can I possibly make a significant difference without my Principal, without my Superintendent?  How can we make this happen without ALL of our teachers on board?  I find myself feeling this way from time to time, but for some odd reason, on the flight home from San Diego, I started thinking ISTE in a different way.  I started thinking in terms of small movements, amplification, waves, and social media.

Each of us is doing something great in our classrooms, in our schools, and in our districts.  While many people are making major strides and massive changes, I would guess that the majority of us are moving at a bit of a slower (and in some cases 'glacial') pace.  But we are moving.  Even if it is just small movements.  Every time we implement something that is better for kids, that engages them more in their learning, that improves instructional practice, we make a "ripple".  But without sharing this great idea, this positive practice, the ripple will likely remain a ripple that has little scalability, and has very little reach beyond that learning situation. 

But by going to something like ISTE, by sharing this "ripple" face-to-face, or through Twitter, through Facebook, or through another social media vehicle, we find people making ripples that are in a similar phase that can add to that ripple, and generate enough power to have that ripple become a wave.  If enough of these waves keep adding to each other, these waves become larger and larger, generating so much power that the idea becomes a powerful force that washes over those in leadership positions. 

At ISTE, Chris Lehmann said (and I am paraphrasing slightly) "It is no longer good enough for us just to do great things in our classrooms".  We need to amplify these ripples so they reach beyond our classrooms and schools. Because they make it better for kids.

David Feherty is a golf journalist, and earlier this year, he interviewed basketball Hall of Famer Bill Russell.  Russell said something that is very applicable to what Chris said, and why we need to amplify our small movements.  Russell said:

"One day, we will no longer live in a world where we speak of 'other people's children'....because they are all OUR children."

But all of this would not happen if we did not make an attempt to amplify our small movements in to ripples and then in to waves. 

Twitter has allowed me to connect to so many educators whose small movements are making ripples all over the world, and I hope that my PLN continues to amplify their ripples so that we can truly make waves in education for all of our children.

Are you "All in!" for Innovation?

"How was ISTE?"

I think that this will be the most commonly asked question that will be asked of each of us who attended the mind-blowing stimulus rush known as ISTE in San Diego this past week.  But for any new people to this conference (myself included), I am wondering if some of the more common answers will be:

"I'll have to get back to you.", or

"I don't really know, actually."

For me, the International Symposium on Tech Education was a dazzling array of creativity, commercialism, chaos, conversation, collaboration, connectedness, comedy, and yes, karaoke packed into three and a half days.  To try and put into words what I learned for someone who has never been to ISTE is difficult, and I know that it will take several days for me to unpack my notes and thoughts into some cogent semblance of a summary. I know that I did find an odd sense of kinship with the 15000 people who were there to find new and innovative ways to make learning come alive in their own educational situation.  But as I sit here on the plane home, my thoughts are still vacillating somewhere in between apps and appies.

In one of our many conversations on the trip, Blake Buemann (our Learning Coach, follow him on Twitter @edubuemann -- he's got it going on) and I started discussing innovation. We were both astounded at the amazing ideas, presentations, apps, and structures that had been put in place by educators who were, well, just like us.  Normal people.  Of course they were passionate, dynamic, and tech savvy--those were givens.  But in each of the stories that they told, we repeatedly heard a distinct commonality: each of them was required to take a significant set of risks.  And perhaps moreover, they were given the license and the support to take those risks by those in leadership positions.

Everyone wants innovation.  They want their organization to be a lexicon in the education world.  They want their districts to be on the leading edge.  They want their schools to be frontrunners, their classrooms to be exemplary, and their teachers to be pioneers.  And ultimately, they want their students to be the benefactors of a rich and meaningful learning environment that empowers the students to themselves become future innovators.

But ask yourself, how much do you REALLY want innovation?  As a leader in your classroom, school or district, do your actions support innovation?  Ultimately, are you willing to take the risks that are REQUIRED for innovation?

I would contend that as much as people SAY they want innovation, their actions dictate that what they want is innovation...........without risk.  Or at least with very minimal risk.

Unfortunately, the simple truth is that there is NO SUCH THING as innovation without risk.  And sometimes a lot of risk.

Linking these two points together, one can draw the conclusion that as much as we SAY we want innovation, we may not want it as much as we think.

In my opinion, if we want innovation, we need to be well aware that we may be faced with:

1.      Financial Risk- While not absolute, innovation rarely comes for free.  Are we prepared to put in the required infrastructure, staffing, training and equipment that this innovation requires, especially if we want to make it scalable.

2.      Logistical Risk- Sometimes an innovation requires us to look at the frameworks that exist in our schools and change them.  But sometimes, when we innovate, we are not sure what we need to change them TO, we just know that we can't do things the way we did them before.  Plain and simple, this means that it could get messy in a big hurry.  Are we willing to breathe through the hiccups, expect and embrace the chaos, and not revert back to what we know doesn't work well when the going gets tough?  Are we willing to adapt on the fly, admit that it didn't go so well, but keep moving towrds are target? Are we willing to develop the emotional body armour that will protect us from those who want to (and will) say "I told you it wouldn't work!"?

3.      Emotional Risk- Innovation could mean that we may be doing something that we have done before, but differently. It could mean that we need to do something completely new altogether.  Or perhaps even more challenging, an innovation may force us to STOP doing something. Are we prepared for the emotional response that WILL come back at us, without fail?  Are we willing to ride out the huge ups and downs that will inevitably happen? Are we willing to walk in a zig zag down the hallway so that the arrows don't hit the target on our backs?

While I am sure that there are many others, I think about these risks and the support that I need to provide to people that want to innovate to meet the mission of our school. Yes, financial.  Yes, logistical.  Yes, emotional.  But the most important support that I can give is not bringing my saw to the end of the plank.

Innovators need to know that their leaders have their back.  As a school leader, I cannot put an innovative staff member in a position where they feel like they are walking the plank; I can't be the Captain standing on the ship with my saw at the ready to cut the plank from underneath them when the sharks are circling.  Once I have committed to the idea of the innovation, I need to throw my chips on the table and say "I'm all in!".

So how do we get more leaders to throw their chips on the table when it may appear that they have an unsuited 8 and 2 in their poker hand (a lousy set of cards in Texas Hold 'Em, for those who are not familiar)?

As a school leader, I think there are a few ways that an innovator can help me to say "I'm all in!":

1. Come with a clear vision of what will be achieved by the innovation and how it fits in with our vision of improving learning.
2. Come with the rationale and research that shows that the desired result of the innovation is something that is going to benefit learning.

3. Come with an idea of who needs to be involved, who might be assets, where the potholes might be, where adversity may come from, what the contingencies could be if things go sideways, what the check points are, and what the indicators and measurements will be of progress and success so that our progress can be informed. This will not be a complete list, and it will change constantly, but you should have a good idea.

4. Come prepared for as many questions as it takes for me to develop an understanding of what it is that we are going to be doing, and don't be offended by my questions.  If I have questions, others will too.  I need to understand so that when I get asked why I am supporting this, I can clearly articulate my position.
5. Come with passion and conviction, and with a track record of persevering in the face of adversity. Come in with a motor that doesn't stop running for your project. If I'm in for a penny, I want you to be in for a pound.

6.  When things are going well, tell me.  When things are not going well, tell me.  It's ok, I am a partner in this as well, and if we need to change direction, I need to know about it.  Be honest.  If we are going in the wrong direction, let's stop riding a horse that is laying dead on the ground.  We pick up and retool what we are doing.  If it was important enough to start, we need to see it through as far as we can. There is no failure unless we quit.

At ISTE, I saw many innovative people who were willing to take risks to make things better for their own learning situation and, in many ways, all of our learning situations.  It is a fallacy to believe that innovation happens without risk.  Innovation always involves risk, but risks can be mimized by doing the appropriate planning and having the support of from leaders. Not so much planning that it stifles the creative process, but more than enough to make sure that leaders are "All in!" for innovation.

My plane is about to land!  Yawn.

Face to Face

I love Twitter.  Google Plus is pretty cool.  Skype is great.  Facebook....well, I am getting there.  I love the online chats on Twitter.  The outstanding blogs.  The unbelievable sharing of ideas.  The occasional jokes that go flying by from guys like Dean Shareski.  The excitement in the tweets from the new people to Twitter (like I was). The feeling of community when you are watching something on TV and suddenly, someone from 2000 miles away makes a comment on the show you are watching--which is the same thought that you just had.  It is a very comfortable place, and I feel like I am slowly getting to know the cast of characters and their online personalities. 

As a result of connecting on Twitter, I have 'met' hundreds of people.  I have developed outstanding working relationships with them.  And here in BC, I feel like I am part of a family, a community of learners who have divergent ideas but the same goal:  we all want our students to be success.

But as ISTE 12 approaches, I am looking forward to meeting people face-to-face.  I am looking forward to sharing ideas in person.  I am excited to see the excitement in people's faces, to hear their unpolished, un-blogged thoughts and to work together to make these polished ideas.  I am interested to find out what it feels like to introduce myself as Cale Birk, and then as @birklearns, knowing that the former will have little recognition, and the latter will have a little more.

Twitter has opened so many doors for each of us to make positive relationships with people from all over the plane connected to education.  And now, with my trip to ISTE 12 only a couple of nights away, I am eager to meet these people.  I want to meet as many as I possibly can.  Because as great as our online community is, as much as it will continue to grow, I don't know that there is anything that can replace...

Face to Face.

Off to ISTE!

If You Could Not Fail?

The month of 'AprilMayJune' is a challenging time for schools around the country.  It is the time of year when plans are being made for September, and there are numerous difficult decisions that need to be made to prepare the school for the fall.  As I am sure it is for everyone, the preliminary budgets come in to us that never seem to be enough, the staffing is so tight that it seems nearly impossible to make it work, there are courses that are over-subscribed and others under-subscribed leading to difficult decisions about which classes to run.  This time of year can be a stressful time for everyone, and for me, it has been no exception.

Feeling a bit torched after these past few weeks, I thought that I would shelve the professional reading for a night and let a mindless movie wash over me as I sunk into my couch with a bathtub-sized bowl of popcorn.  The movie of choice was called New Year's Eve, and it absolutely met the minimal expectations that I had for it.  However, in one particular scene, one actor was eulogizing his father.  Within this eulogy, he quoted his father, and the quote stuck with me:

"What would you do in your life if you knew that you could not fail?"

Interesting.


Over the last several months, I have read countless blogs about the 'importance' of failure.  How failure teaches us things.  How failure is a part of life.  How it is important in schools for us to 'let students experience failure' so long as we are there as the safety net to help them lick their wounds as they bounce off of the proverbial rock bottom.

I know that I could be in the minority, but I just don't buy it.  To this end, I have yet to find compelling evidence that failure is teaching kids what we want them to learn.  I have heard plenty of anecdotal reports of the importance of failing, but the solid evidence behind the 'just dust yourself off and get back up' school of thought has never come across my desk.  We talk of failure as though it is simply collateral damage, a part of life.  But for many of our struggling learners, the damaging effects of failure are lasting and real. Maybe the research proving me wrong will surface, but...

...but forget the evidence.  In a time that we are asking students to be critical thinkers, to be creative dreamers, and to solve problems that do not yet exist, which phrase would you rather your son or daughter hear from their teacher or principal?

"In your life, it is important that you experience failure.  I know this to be true.  Don't worry, you will be stronger for it."

or...

"What would you do in your life if you knew that you could not fail?"

Putting this into context,  how many times do we have to coax students (or our own children.....) to even remotely contemplate trying something new?  How many times as adults do we have to force ourselves to step out of our comfort zone?  To this end,  I would venture to guess that if the level of encouragement proffered to us was commensurate with the 'importance of experiencing failure'  comment, we likely would retreat to our corners and not bother trying anything new at all.

We have to be careful when we say that it is important to 'experience failure'.  How much of this failure is the right amount?  What happens when a student decides that they have experienced 'enough' failure, and decide to quit.  What if they have experienced so much failure that we lose them altogether?  Now what?  Is that the right amount?

Call me Polyanna, but I want students to try the things they would not normally try.  To do things that they would normally not think that they could do.  And the only way to get them to do those things is to build the belief that they CAN do it, to help them scaffold the task so they have the appropriate level of challenge, and to build their resiliency skills so when they are confronted with the inevitable challenges that will come they choose to persevere.   In short, I want them to approach their courses at school as though they cannot fail as opposed to thinking they might fail and that failure is good for them.


At an Assessment Conference I attended several years ago, I heard Rick Stiggins say something that has stuck with me to this day:

"It's not important whether children hit the target today.  It's whether they come back to try again tomorrow".


By believing students will be successful, guiding them closer to the target, and having them approach their education as if they cannot fail, we will make the creative problem solvers that will come back and try again tomorrow.

That is the school that I want.