Brian admitted it had been far too quiet for his 3-year old. Any parent can attest; the biggest child-induced mischief typically comes at the quietest of times. It got me thinking though. In almost 20 years in education, most of that time involved with the management and/or incorporation of technology, Kindergarteners and other younger learners get a bad rap.

Many education and technology leaders in K-12 wrap iPads and devices for younger learners in the nerf-foam equivalent of child safety helmets. Tablets become 2 to 3 times their actual size. Chromebooks get wrapped in what appears to be ballistics grade Kevlar with tire-tread edging. All in an effort to protect precious digital learning tools from clumsy hands, and trips & falls.

And yet, after three-and-a-half years overseeing a total K-12 1:1 device program, the age group of students that routinely bring broken devices into the office for repairs are 6th, 7th, and 8th graders. Every week, repair ticket after repair ticket, the Middle School/Junior High aged learners routinely smash, drop, and break their Chromebooks FAR more than any other grade level. They shut Chromebooks with earbuds, phones, or pencils accidentally laying on the keyboard and shatter the screens. They sling devices down the hallway like frisbees (still in their case, so it’s cool, right?). And they pry up keys with the fervor of dwarves eagerly delving for precious metals hidden just underneath the keyboard.

I know what you’re thinking; Ben, the younger students aren’t breaking devices because they are so well protected. Wrong. Our iPads for preschoolers and Kindergartners have iPads devoid of the finger-foam materials. And Chromebooks for our 1st-5th graders don’t have any protection at all! They are stored safely in charging carts, but otherwise there’s no case or protection. And yet, under the careful guidance and observation of elementary teachers, our K-5 students treat their devices with a lot of care. The older students, once trusted with a device of their own, tend to be more curious, mischievous, and at times malicious, with their school-issued devices.

Don’t get me wrong; it’s not an overwhelming majority of students treating their devices poorly, and it’s usually just a few repeat offenders that need to learn the lesson of paying for repairs a couple of times before they ultimately treat their Chromebooks with more respect. But when it comes to just plain accidents with school-issued technology, the 6th-8th graders take home the prize any day of the week.

To any school districts currently awash with devices thanks to COVID, and are just now entering a new 1:1 reality, don’t worry so much about how many layers of polycarbonate and foam you wrap around your digital devices. Instead, make sure you’re listening in the hallways and classrooms. It’s when things get really quiet, and you become confident that Middle Schoolers can safely respect their devices after years of careful guidance in K-5 that the most damage will likely occur.

Zach and Screech had a student-run radio station on Saved By the Bell that they used to save the local diner. Lyons Township High School outside of Chicago has an award-winning student-run radio station. While not student-run, my local NPR station is licensed and owned by Elkhart Community Schools in Indiana. But in the era of “everyone is a content creator” where are the student-run High School radio stations?

Independently hosted and published digital writing had its day with the rise and fall of blogging. Everyone’s 15 minutes of digital video fame is currently in transition from short-form Youtube videos to micro-form Tik Tok and Instagram Stories. The digital revolution saw online publishing of writing and videos dominate the K-12 space, with COVID bringing synchronous video for learning to a near ubiquitous state for K-12. But I don’t ever recall a particularly overwhelming surge in the use of internet radio for students and teachers to broadcast and share learning. The barriers to publishing, and maintaining a 24/7 stream of digital audio content used to be quite technical and logistical in nature. But then Jim Groom goes and keeps pushing his idea of radical open digital learning spaces and uncovers a hidden gem for me.

I watched one of Jim’s “bava weekly” updates (which he hosts on his own avante gard self-hosted video streaming platform) and it helped re-connect me to thoughts that used to dominate my instructional mindset for K-12 students; if we truly want students to learn ABOUT the real world, why not find ways for them to publish their thoughts and learning TO the real world in small and simple ways. I dove back into “bava land” and was introduced to AzuraCast, a freely available open-source, self-hosted internet radio management solution. Essentially, a “roll your own” internet radio station that you can host with any hosting provider, or locally on internal resources with the help of your district’s Technology department.

I’m intrigued. Mostly because I’m in a position to make something like this happen for our campus; we have the tech and servers to support our own internal student-run radio station. We have a relatively captive audience. But we have a curriculum that’s focused more on consumption of information; yes, students create websites, presentations, pamphlets, and visual display so knowledge. We even have a broadcasting course at the Junior High. Audio though is different though. We don’t have students writing and then producing short audio stories, or creating serialized podcasts (we did have one briefly before COVID), or even just giving one another audio feedback through Voice Notes.

Sure, podcasting is hot right now, and it would be straight forward to give teachers and students templates for creating student podcasts. Most podcasts today seem to fall into the “talk radio format” and would only require some loose ideas of segments, interviews, etc. It would be easy to expand a student or school-run radio station by playing recorded band and choir performances, reruns of radio broadcasts from basketball and football games, or even encourage students to start producing spoken word poetry! I’m going to noodle on this idea for awhile, because it would be a really fun way to push teachers and students outside of their norm, while leveraging the mostly hidden technology that hums along maintaining our network and systems.

If anyone is still reading my blog, and has examples of student and school-run radio stations, please share!

It’s conference season. The time between Christmas Break and Spring Break can be tortuously long for teachers and students. Snow days are cheered, three-day weekends dot the calendar, and state conferences for teachers help break up the monotony of one of the longest stretch of instructional days in the school-year calendar. So in the spirit of those conference sessions promising “60 tips, tricks, and engagement strategies” I thought I’d have a bit of fun with this post. Ain’t no one going to beat almost 40,000 absolutely FREE visual writing prompts. Even better, they’re hosted by the Library of Congress on Flickr!

It was actually thanks to Today’s Daily Create that I was reminded of one of the best digital collections of Public Domain images from United States history. The Library of Congress was an early adopter of digital and social media (at least for image sharing), and it’s always been a great way to get students writing. Want to give younger students a silly writing prompt? Use the kittens all dressed up for bed posted at the top of the page. Want to give older students studying World War II an opportunity to reflect on life in Japanese Internment camps in the United States? There’s an entire album for it. Get middle school students excited about writing something goofy thanks to the “Roadside America” album.

Want to help put the pandemic in historical perspective for science students? There are photos of old Tuberculosis wards. Talking about politics and campaigning in Civics? Even Abraham Lincoln had campaign paraphernalia. There’s even an album for pioneering stereo photography from the Civil War, great for students studying the impact that technological advancement has had on how we report on conflict around the globe.

Honestly though, almost any photo in the Library of Congress Digital Collection would be great for any writing and/or English teacher just trying to find a creative way to get the kids warmed up to writing. Poetry, short prose, or even idea starters for longer stories would easily fit into a five-minute “bell ringer” activity. Sliding one into a Google Classroom or LMS stream would allow students to share their creative writing as responses in a social setting, giving them a space that they’re already familiar with.

As I attempt to get back to blogging regularly, I’ve been reminded myself that sometimes the small simple ideas are the ones that can have the most impact. Easy to implement, little preparation time needed, and able to flexible in a pinch if other plans fall through during the normal routine of the school day.

Data trends confirm if our instructional interventions are effective; they correct misconceptions about which demographics of students cause the most behavioral issues, and data trends can help identify crucial transitional gaps in learning. If you’ve been involved in K-12 public education in the last 10 years, none of this is new to you. What is new (to myself at least) is a growing concern over assessments of academic achievement. Specifically, the number of assessments we deliver and how we use the results at the K-12 level, especially the assessments we have control over.

There’s an old saying that many farmers are fond of when it comes to measuring the fruits of your labor. “Weighing the pig doesn’t make it fatter.” It’s not the best metaphor for assessing academic achievement of students; they certainly aren’t farm animals, despite messy lockers. However, the old saying implies that if we are constantly focused on measuring progress, we ignore the time and opportunity we might otherwise use to affect progress towards academic achievement. It’s easy to cry out “hear, hear, Federally and State mandated testing must go!” But that’s not the issue as I see it.

K-12 educators have historically used far more instructional time for tests, quizzes, and other assessments than what’s required of us by State and Federal Departments of Education. I was guilty of it myself in the classroom, especially when I was a newer teacher. Weekly spelling tests, unit/chapter/section pre- and post tests. Unit, chapter, marking period, and semester summative tests. Pop quizzes, homework quizzes, self-assessments, benchmarks, screeners, regular formative assessments, the list goes on. Each and every assessment we give students are not inherently bad things. But when students take benchmark assessments for Math and ELA 3 to 4 times a year, double screeners for the same subjects each marking period, and are then subject to teacher-driven tests taken from curricular materials, Teacher’s Pay Teachers, or summative assessment banks, it’s no wonder that everyone feels like we “test too much.”

When I am answering questions from teachers about whether or not “Johnny” can retake a benchmark assessment (that has NO weight on any grade or academic progress) because they feel he didn’t do well, we begin to miss the entire point of the assessments at all; we don’t want students to do inherently well on every single assessment, especially when they’re just meant to monitor progress of growth. If students passed every test with flying colors, there would be little value in the assessments showing us where students need to grow. And likewise, doing poorly on an assessment does not mean the score has to go in the grade book. I have a lot of thoughts about assessment, probably enough to write an entire thesis. But to simplify and focus my own thoughts, I think I’d like to start framing my concerns about assessment overload in the same way we take about PLCs. The “four essential questions of right-sizing assessments” could be as simple as:

1. What assessments are we absolutely required to deliver?
2. What do we want to know about a student’s academic progress?
3. What assessments will give us that information if the ones we are required to deliver don’t give us what we need?
4. What assessments can we do without because they either duplicate another assessment OR are just used for a grade on a report card?

These questions aren’t perfect, and I would definitely welcome any thoughts, critiques, or resources about how to make them better. I always find it valuable when working with educators to have a simple set of questions or talking points to focus conversation. As we move away from COVID, towards the regular work of continuous improvement and assessment in a relatively “normal” learning environment, I wonder what other districts and teachers are doing to “right-size” their assessment delivery.

A conversation with a colleague today got me thinking about engagement. Or rather disengagement of staff and students. It’s a pretty solid and straight forward framework for the continuous improvement of instruction. However, it also happens to be a framework that can feel like an assembly line at times. Prepare instruction, deliver instruction, deliver assessment, dive into assessment data, retool instruction, deliver instruction, deliver assessment, etc. It takes a LOT of practice and time to get into the rhythm of data-driven discussions around improving instruction on a regular basis, and it can be easy for teachers to become disengaged, pushing back that the instruction doesn’t feel as ”personal or unique” as it might be otherwise.

This isn’t a post about the PLC process; it’s a solid model that has proven itself in schools around the world. This is a post to remind myself about the silly, stupid, quick little activities I used to create for my students when I found myself disengaged with what was happening in the classroom. It’s good to do something a little different every now and then, especially if you can tie it into a writing prompt or other ELA activity. Which brings me to the Yelp review I left earlier for my favorite cafe.

I took a writing prompt focused on reviewing something mundane on Yelp from the Daily Create community, and I twisted it a bit to become an exaggerated review for something you love. The original writing prompt was for Yelp, but any social review site would work. While I’m not sure how students would respond to crafting fake reviews for Trip Advisor or Angie’s List, there are plenty of examples of exaggerated reviews from major sites, ala the infamous Three Wolf Moon t-shirt on Amazon.

I don’t recommend showing students the reviews and Q and A on the Three Wolf Moon Amazon review (the language gets a bit racy). But I do recommend giving students the opportunity to have some fun writing some goofy “over the top” reviews for some of their favorite places around town. Heck, if they’re old enough and school policies allow it, let them post their reviews to Yelp itself…..or maybe do it for them. I wrote my exaggerated review about Caffe Tosi and then published it on my Yelp account….because I actually really love the place, and they deserve the praise. And tossing something a little unexpected at students (and teachers) every now and then can help bring some fresh engagement amid the learning process.

Teaching and learning in the era of COVID (provided you haven’t retired, resigned, or been side tracked with the virus) has likely left you completely and utterly bewildered. Symptoms include exhaustion, disorientation, and lapses in memory (inability to recall the day of the week, names of loved ones, and what colleagues look like without masks). Perhaps the most frustrating of this “bewildered beast” syndrome is attempting to do what’s right given shifting politics over responses to the virus, public sentiment being hurled at educators via social media, and the growing list of legislation meant to provide more transparency for parents and ratcheting up pressure in an already stressed time for education.

Over the last two years, I have watched veteran educators retire mid-year. I have seen newly hired teachers “jump ship” to other districts for more money after only weeks on the job. I have seen disgruntled parents angrily speak out at school board meetings. The educational miracles that I saw teachers perform online in the Spring of 2020 were followed by anxious classrooms in the Fall of 2020. No one knew for sure what would happen with COVID among students and staff absent a vaccine. 2021 saw rising confidence with vaccines, some educational progress and school buildings retooling scope & sequence and interventions to hammer home the essentials that students missed in 2020. Schools were hopeful of the progress being made.

And then came the full bewilderment.

Schools and teachers that had been heralded for providing the best they could during the pandemic came under attack for teaching CRT, undemocratic teachings, and subversive counter cultural content. I have not seen ANY of those lessons, content, or teachings in the district where I work. I have not seen content of this nature being taught in the school district my children attend. I have not seen content of this nature being taught anywhere in my county. My guess is, most educators haven’t seen content of this kind being taught in their schools either. Enter the “bewildered beast” syndrome. A near endemic condition in schools in America today in which the educational efforts and lessons do not seem to match what many in the public believe we are doing. In this almost “Twilight Zone” like existence, I wouldn’t blame any teachers, administrators, or school board members for experiencing the same bewildered symptoms that I myself have experienced over the last two years.

This is a simple reflection. It’s not an indictment of what’s right or wrong. How and where people consume their daily news and information influences their thoughts in unique ways. This is just an exhausted observation that regardless of the influences that have led to this bewildered state, I truly hope that we can all be a little less “beastly” in our efforts to bewilder one another, and a little more sympathetic to how difficult this pandemic has been to all of us.

Gold is one of the most malleable metals on the face of the earth. It’s so ductile, a single ounce can be turned into thread 5 miles long. It conducts heat, electricity, and is found in leaves, the ocean, and even within the human body. In its purest form, it can be molded by hand, yet is unaffected by heat, air, or moisture. It does not oxidize, it does not tarnish, it does not rust. It is one of the most stable elements on the periodic table.

Be gold.

The elemental symbol for Gold (Au) is from Latin. Aurum, derived from Aurora, “shining dawn”. It is one of the earliest known minerals to be mined in human history, adorned the tombs of pharaohs, was used to decorate medieval manuscripts, and was one of artist Gustav Klimt’s most famous materials to work with. The medallions bestowed upon Nobel laureates and given to Olympic athletes are plated with 24-carat gold.

Be gold.

To every teacher, administrator, and school employee right now that has been hammered into an unrecognizable distortion of the educator you used to be, Be gold.

That’s it. Nothing terribly profound, or complicated. Just be gold.

I have an eclectic taste in music; and I have a terrible video addiction. Thanks to those two realities, and the Google algorithm, I was presented with the above “Remaking SUNFLOWER – 1 Hour Challenge” in my suggested viewing on YouTube this morning.

And it blew my mind! Not just because Simon successfully produced a reasonable facsimile of the chart topper, Sunflower (side note, go see Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse, it’s an amazing movie with a fantastic soundtrack, including this song). It blew my mind because it serves as an excellent example of what we should be striving for in schools; students capable of tackling challenges through their own means and abilities.

What would our schools like this if we gave students performance assessments like this? How many teachers could handle a performance assessment of this nature? How would this translate to Science, History, or Math?

The question that stuck with me the most was “how many teachers would be able to complete a performance assessment like this on their own?” Before you get all bent out of shape, I’m not pondering whether teachers should be attempting to learn the inner workings of a complex audio software creation tool and recreate popular music in a single hour. I’m talking about the possibility of teachers approaching professionals in their field of expertise and challenging themselves and students to recreate and/or perform a tasks that those professionals carry out every day.

What if English teachers had to perform a 60-minute short story challenge each week? What if Math teachers designed theorems or built scale model bridges as a monthly challenge? What if Chemistry students were challenged to recreate famous experiments (ones safe enough for school, sorry Marie Curie) as a means of practicing actual experimentation replication and validation? What if History students had to perform extemporaneous 3-minute debates on the historical ramifications of immigration and the similarities to today’s events?

As usual, casual YouTube watching always produces more questions than I have answers, but the questions seem like exciting experiments and curiosities to pursue. I would love to see a teacher deliver a performance task/challenge/assessment like this; as an added bonus, imagine allowing the students to evaluate one another as well.

I’m curious how many other people can see the problem with the word problem, so I made a short video story problem about it:

This word problem, or more specifically word problems like it are the reason I started creating video story problems. The issue is the complete disconnect with the real world. I get it, worksheets and huge lists of facts and math problems given to students are meant to help strengthen their automaticity and fluency. But when we deal with extensions that are meant to engage and create curiosities about math in the real world (story problems), so many of them fall flat; either they’ve been designed by “instructional designers” that know nothing about actually teaching students, or they simply don’t have the ability to create problems and curiosities in a manner that would be more engaging.

So I decided to create a video story problem “challenge.” Can you pick apart the “Cowboy Carl” word problem in my video, and create a more engaging word problem, or at least a more realistic problem? What information would you need? I’ll confess, I shared this on my persona Facebook account, and one of my friends had her son take up the challenge. He immediately searched for the average speed of a horse (watch the video and you’ll understand why that’s important), and started to craft a problem with a more realistic goal in mind, not just a simple three-digit arithmetic problem dressed up with a bit of fiction. Instead, he created a real world problem for the rider and the horse, and then started to plug in numbers.

In short, when we venture into “math in the real world” territory…make it about the real world! Deal with real world variables, find numbers in narratives, not the other way around. And at the very least, challenge students to create their own problems, as the greatest amount of learning comes from the design of learning experiences themselves, not just being subjected to them.

For a lot of seasoned science nerds, they probably already know the science behind the demonstration; microwaves operate at a particular frequency, which allows anyone to “nuke” a plate of marshmallowy peeps, measure the locations of the “hot spots” and then do some simple math to figure out how quickly light travels inside your microwave….and everywhere else in the universe since it’s a constant.

What struck me as important with this video is the time and careful effort that Adam Cole, the show’s host, puts into breaking down some of the early experiments conducted by scientists to attempt to discover the speed of light. Long before humans were capable of creating light beyond fire (electricity wasn’t even a thing), Galileo attempted an ill-fated investigation to determine how quickly light traveled. While he was ultimately unsuccessful (he was using lamps about a mile apart), the background of that story and a French scientist who came very close to determining the actual speed of light using mirrors and a rotating cog speak to the care with which those attempting to educate must take.

As Mark Zuckerburg prepares to give testimony to the U.S. Congress regarding potentially harmful uses of personal data that was scraped from millions of Facebook users and then used to fuel potentially “fake news” or “alternative news” stories to people on both side of the political spectrum, it’s heartening to see that there are sources of information seeking to educate viewers more completely on topics. Or at the very least, modeling the kind of learning we want our students to have; self-discovery rooted in the knowledge and understandings of previous discoveries and understandings. The use of social media and video has been abused for several years now, turning many social media watering holes into poisonous places to consume information; I have friends recently that have deleted their Facebook accounts to help combat the anxiety and disinformation that such platforms engender. But I see work like this peep video, and I see a bright spot that deserves to be spread, shared, and emulated. Thanks for sharing Mary!

And sure, adding in some peeps helps the “stickiness” of the reporting (sorry, couldn’t help the pun).