5 Things We Don’t Agree On

One of the frustrations with the current conversation in public education is that we’re not all talking about the same thing. We’re all experts in education, because we’ve all spent thousands of hours in school. But when it comes to some of the fundamental questions surrounding education, we’re not all on the same page. Here are five things we don’t agree on:

7632212948_5a2ca26f59_n[1]What’s the purpose of education?
Some make the argument that education is all about providing a basic level of literacy to the populace. We should teach our kids to read and write and do basic math. We should give our children the basic skills they need to function in daily life. Others point to career readiness. The point of education is to prepare learners to succeed in real jobs that will give them enough income to live without being a burden on society. Others point to higher education. K-12 education prepares students for college or technical school, which in turn prepares students to get good jobs.  A few idealists point to lofty goals like passing along our culture — our civilization — to the next generation, or to creating an informed, functional citizenry. But your view of education, including the degree to which the U.S. system is successful, will depend on which lens you’re using.

What do we mean by “learning”?
When I was a kid, we were told that knowledge is power. If you have the information, and you control access to information, you’re more powerful than those who don’t. That may still be true to a degree, but for the most part, everyone has the information now. If school is all about disseminating content to children, we’re wasting our time. They already have the content. Now, what can we do with that content?

We’re moving further up the Bloom’s pyramid than we give ourselves credit for. But if we want to measure this kind of learning, we have to ask better questions. We have to challenge students to think in new ways, to combine ideas from different areas, and to create something new. If you want to measure whether students have developed their problem solving skills, you have to give them problems that they haven’t seen the solution to. I’m not sure our high-stakes testing and assessment system will let that happen.

What’s the right balance between local and centralized control of education?
Whenever we don’t like something we’re being told to do, we drag out the old “local control” argument. Traditionally, education has been a local responsibility. We decide what to teach our kids, and how to do it. The government stays out of it. At the same time, though, we seem to welcome centralized standardization when we agree with it. If you have too much local control, then you find creationism showing up in the science curriculum, global warming being taught as a debateable theory, and any novel that encourages students to think and speak for themselves being labeled as subversive trash. The common core is not a bad thing, and most people who object to it actually object to the way it’s measured more than the standards themselves. If we do have standards, we ought to be able to leverage collaboration to make implementation easier for all of us. Part of the friction here comes from fundamental disagreements on some of the questions I’ve already mentioned.

Whose responsibility is education?
This is different from the last question. In the 19th century, American communities decided that it was the responsibility of the community to create and support local schools for the education of their children. Education was entirely local and community-driven. As time has gone on, the community has assumed a smaller role. Education is the government’s responsibility. Education is the parent’s responsibility. Now we end up in all of these convoluted strategies to try to make education relevant to the community as a whole. “Why should I vote for the school levy? My children are grown. I’m on a fixed income. I can’t afford higher taxes.” We need to invest in education because it’s the right thing to do. We need to invest in education because it will benefit our society and our country in the long term. There’s no short term return on investment. Support schools for the same reason that you still plant trees, even though you may not live to see them fully grown. Whether you’re a teacher, parent, grandparent, child, or community member, education is YOUR responsibility.

How does the U.S. stack up against other countries?
Education in the United States is better now than it has ever been. That’s not news. It doesn’t generate the same response as the reports claiming our kids don’t know basic math or that Finland provides a better education at a fraction of the price. But if our schools are changing — if we really are re-examining what we mean by “education” — then the scores our students earn on traditional knowledge-based tests are not going to improve. If we look at the tests that we’re using to measure students around the world, I don’t think we’ll find that our students are doing worse than other countries on the things we actually care about. Which takes us back to the questions on purpose and learning.

We skip these questions. Even in conversations about Next Generation schools. Even in discussions about appropriate professional development programs to transform learning. Even in deep, thoughtful reflections on what we’re doing in public education. We can spin our wheels around these things for hours without getting anywhere. But until we start agreeing on the basic parameters of what we’re talking about, we’re not going to get anywhere.

Photo credit: NikitaY on Flickr.


The Semi-Permanent Internet

This week’s Spark included a piece on data longevity. These days, we’re posting a LOT of content online. Every minute, 72 hours of video is uploaded to YouTube. In that same minute, the Internet gains 700,000 Facebook posts, 100,000 tweets, and 571 new web sites. Much of that is stuff we care a lot about. Nearly every photo I’ve taken in the last five years is on Flickr. All my videos worth watching are on YouTube or Vimeo. I’ve documented my personal and professional life on Twitter in 6,200 140-character pieces. And this blog now holds about 200,000 well-reasoned words that I’ve managed to string together over the last seven or eight years. And that’s not counting the private and semi-private stuff I have in Google Drive, Gmail, Dropbox, Evernote, Delicious, and a handful of tools I’ve probably forgotten about.

3567689465_97e414a22f[1]All of those services are free. The only one I pay for is Flickr, and, to be honest, I probably don’t use it enough to need the pro account anymore. At a moment’s notice, or without notice, any of them could shut down, and take my data with them.

So we really should worry, at least a little bit, about where our data is and how it’s stored, and how to recover it if one of these companies goes belly-up. And don’t think it hasn’t happened before. Take a look at Google Reader, for example, which is shutting down this summer. Or what happened when Ning changed their terms of service a few years ago and teachers had to find another way to host online communities for their students. The Spark story points out that Posterous is discontinuing its blogging service this month, and all of its sites will go away unless its users migrate their content to some other service.

There’s no reason to believe that this won’t eventually happen to all of the online tools I’m using now. Business models change. Services evolve. We move from one thing to another pretty quickly. I never had a Geocities web page, but if I did it would have disappeared when Yahoo turned out the lights in 2009. And speaking of Yahoo, at some point I’ll probably lose access to my Yahoo mail account when they finally pull the plug. So the state of the Internet is a bit more ephemeral than we’d all like to think.

Spark guest Meg Ambrose commented on public service announcements that warn kids about what they post online. She’s very critical of that approach, indicating that the information we post online is much less permanent than we’d like to think. She claims that only 10-15% of content posted online lasts more than a year, and that we need to be less concerned with the permanence of our digital output that we are.

I disagree.

I started using the Internet in October, 1989. For the first year or so, almost everything I posted online was in forums hosted at my university. They were never really on the Internet, per se. They were only available within the institution. But sometime in 1990, I discovered Usenet. For those with less gray hair than I have, Usenet was a global distributed discussion forum. It had thousands of newsgroups on every conceivable topic, and participants from all over the world could interact in these forums. I was active in a handful of newsgroups in the early 90’s. While I knew that I was posting things in a public forum, I did not think about the possibility that those messages would still be online, easily accessible, and completely searchable 20 years later. The software I used to post those messages is no longer maintained. The server I posted them on and the terminal I wrote them on were decommissioned long ago. Most Internet providers no longer even support the Usenet protocol or carry a Usenet feed. Essentially, the entire class of services is gone. But the messages are still there. If you care about what I had to say regarding Lou Marini in the newsgroup alt.cult-movies on February 25, 1991, just ask Google. It helps if you know what my email address was in 1991, but you don’t really need it.

Or maybe you want to see the first web page I ever made. Actually, I can’t find that anywhere. But the first web site I made for a class I was teaching is in the Internet Archive. That was in the late 90’s. Want to see the student projects my 8th graders posted online in the spring of 1997? Those are still online too. Lots of the links are broken, and some of the images don’t load, and the pages are NOT where we originally posted them. But they’re still online. Someone has preserved them.

Let’s get back to the 21st century. Sure, many of the things I post online now won’t be there in a year or 5 years or 20 years. But that doesn’t mean they’re going to be gone. Once I post something online, I give up control of it. It’s going to be archived somewhere. It’s going to be copied. It’s going to show up in other places. To think that I can magically go back and erase something I’ve posted on the Internet is foolish. To think that the Internet itself is going to purge it is crazy.

Obviously, the permanence of the Internet hasn’t scared me away. I’m putting more things online than ever before. But I’m always aware that everything I post will eventually be public (even if I don’t intend it to be). And everything I post is “out there” forever. It’s not up to me to decide what gets kept and what goes away.

Our students need to understand this, just like I needed to understand this 20 years ago.

Image source: Dolescum on Flickr.

4 Reasons Why Google is Bad for Education

One of the disconcerting aspects of my role in education is that I always need to be thinking a couple steps ahead. In many cases, this means looking deep enough into the crystal ball to see the decline of technologies we’re just starting to use. I’ve written in the past about how 1:1 programs may not be the final answer, even as we continue to move toward them. I’ve also realized that learning management systems, like Moodle, Schoology, and Edmodo, are probably bad ideas in the long run, even as we continue to promote and encourage their use now. In both of these cases, the pedagogical transformation that comes from their adoption is invaluable. So we can’t just skip to the next step.

When it comes to Google, I’m torn. Their collection of tools (primarily Gmail, Docs, and Calendar) has had a tranformational effect on many of our practices, both in and out of the classroom. The collaborative features in Docs make it possible for dozens of people to edit the same file at the same time without the pain of “this document is locked for editing by another user.” The cloud-based solution has allowed us to open up email and other tools to students, which would not have been possible if we were still hosting it ourselves. And their innovative approach to calendars has given us the ability to communicate event information to staff, students, parents, and the community like never before. In short, moving to Google is probably the best technology decision we’ve made in our district in the last ten years.

But that doesn’t mean we will use it forever.

There are some scratches and dents in our Google experience, shiny though it may be. There are some things that are ultimately going to force us to go elsewhere. I don’t know where elsewhere is yet (and it’s not Microsoft, so put down the phone, Live 365 sales rep). Herewith are the four reasons the K-12 Education / Google marriage is destined for divorce:

Customer Service

Google doesn’t excel at customer service. They rely heavily on forums and written documentation for the majority of support issues. I’m also not one to depend on companies’ customer support. In my experience, most companies’ support people generally aren’t much help. But I’ve had two issues with Google customer service within the last few months that have me seriously thinking about my future relationship with this company.

The first issue was a billing one. We pay for email archiving for staff email accounts. This year, the invoice was more than double the regular rate, despite our being quoted the same amount we always pay. It was a simple matter of them double billing us, and charging us tax when they shouldn’t have. But it took about 10 weeks to get it resolved, mostly because I was working with a different person at each interaction. I don’t have an account representative that I can call who can take care of this. “We’ll submit a request for re-invoicing the correct amount.” Then there’s nothing until I get another nastygram about non-payment. And through the whole experience, I’m the bad guy for not paying the bill.

Still, that’s just a minor annoyance. It didn’t really affect our use of Google’s services. But when we had a few staff members get married, I changed their usernames to reflect their new status. This broke their email accounts because the change didn’t propagate correctly through Google’s services. It took two weeks to resolve this one, and ultimately ended in them directing me to use a workaround to sidestep a bug in the original workaround that they told me to use to get around the apparent bug that they never acknowledged. In the meantime, these staff members couldn’t use email for two weeks. It worked out all right, because this was in late July and early August. But if I had a teacher without email for two weeks in September, I would be facing a lot of pressure to switch email systems.

Google Plus

I was excited about Plus when it launched. Here was Facebook, without it being, well, Facebook. I’ve often thought about using Facebook as a learning management system, in the spirit of bringing the learning to the networks our students are already using. What if a discussion of the hero’s journey and a description of RNA synthesis were mixed in with friends’ status updates and photos of cats? What if we didn’t force our students to come off the beach to play in our sandbox? Plus seemed like a golden opportunity to embrace social networking in education while sidestepping the privacy, online safety, and general disintegration of civilized society charges that are constantly levied against Zuckerberg and his company.

But, alas, Google Plus is not available for Google Apps for Education domains.

Fine. I can see their point. COPPA has some legal requirements regarding the use of these technologies by students under the age of 13 that make it difficult for Plus to actually work the way it’s supposed to without getting parent permission for every student user. Legally, it’s probably better for Google to not allow K-12 to use Plus. I get it.

But here’s the problem: over the last year, Google has been putting more and more eggs in the Plus basket. Nearly every new Google feature launched in the last year has required a Plus account. Google’s video conferencing app? Need a Plus account. Search Plus Your World? Have to have Plus. At the same time, they’re reducing the functionality of non-Plus tools. Remember Google Labs? No longer available. Google Reader has significantly reduced features. iGoogle is going away, in favor of a more customized Google home page. Where does that customization come from? You guessed it, Google Plus.

The bottom line is that Google is strongly encouraging the use of Plus, and is integrating it across the spectrum of Google products. That leaves people who don’t want Plus accounts (and those who can’t get them) out in the cold.

Rate of Change

I’m not a Luddite. I’m not change-averse. I love technological improvements. I still get excited about upgrades, especially when those upgrades make things easier to use and don’t break things. But I’m not a fan of change for change’s sake.

I love the incremental upgrades to Google Docs. The pagination tools in Docs are wonderful. The ability to sort on multiple columns in the spreadsheet makes it more useful. But changing the user interface, moving things around, removing options, and changing defaults can lead to confusion and resentment.

Last year, Google revamped all of their tools for the second time since we’ve been using them. Email looks different. Calendars have been redesigned. Some features are gone. Others have been re-worked. This is a fine line, I know. I understand that improvements are a good thing, and that there will be no consensus on whether each particular change is an improvement. But my users want to use the tool, and keep it out of the way. They don’t want to focus on Google apps. They just want the tools to be there and work consistently.

In education (as in the business world — let’s not kid ourselves), we have traditionally protected our users from the exhaustive upgrade cycle that the computer industry tries to thrust upon is. We’re using Office 2003 not because we don’t like 2010, but because 2003 works for us. It’s comfortable. It does what we need. We don’t want to have to re-learn how to mail merge yet again. We have other more important things to do. But in the cloud, we don’t have that option. We’re constantly upgrading. We’re constantly adapting. So the software isn’t always the same as it was last time we used it. That’s frustrating for a lot of people, including the ones who are trying to teach others how to use it.

There’s a tendency across the industry to fail early. Get a product out there, and then revise it. But we don’t have time to be your beta testers.

Data Liberation

Ironically, Google is one of the good guys when it comes to data liberation. When signing up for any online service, you should be asking how easy it is to take your ball and go home. Remember, when using these services, that your data is yours. You should be able to export it easily in a format that can be used elsewhere. Google’s Data Liberation Front explains how to do this for most of Google’s services. That’s great. But it’s not enough.

In our district, every fifth grader gets a Google Apps account in our domain. They keep this account until they leave the school district. For most of them, that’s when they graduate seven years later. Over the course of those seven years, they create hundreds of documents, exchange email with people both inside and outside our domain, create online portfolios, web sites, blogs, and other examples of their work, upload photos and videos and share them online, and create digital footprints all over the Internet. These are all very good things. Under the supervision of their teachers, they create online identities that are largely positive reflections of their experience in mddle- and high school.

But when they graduate, we delete it all. As someone who is no longer associated with our schools, they no longer qualify for an account in our domain. Ideally, we should be able to cut them loose — spin off their accounts into full-fledged Google accounts, outside the realm of our domain. But we can’t do that. The best we can do is say “back up your data, folks, because your account is going away.”

Some schools approach this by leaving their accounts active even after they leave. But this creates problems, too. Suddenly, the walled garden in which we are teaching our students about appropriate online behavior has people in it who are no longer part of our school community. That’s not a workable solution either.

The real solution might be to forget apps for education, and just have our students sign up for real Google accounts to begin with. We’re not ready to do that yet (and it would create problems for students under the age of 13), but it is an attractive option.

I don’t have any solutions. There’s no better alternative right now. There is certainly nothing available that’s so useful, easy to use, and affordable. But someday there will be. And we’ll probably switch.

Image credit: brionv on Flickr.