To quote Ken Robinson again, we have to start to think differently about human capacity. We have to think differently, as he says, about “the culture of our institutions, the habits of institution, and the habitats that they occupy.”
It’s very likely that you are only doing this kind of work once a day, in one classroom, with one teacher. But the same could be said for physical education, which looks and feels and is nothing like your other classes in classrooms. You have to embrace change and your own capacity to adapt to different environments. You will discover that you have some tardigrade capabilities.
Right now, you are studying self-control, because self-control is central to every choice you make in our course. You must monitor those choices and connect them to that reading; when you do, you will be able to be metacognitive about every choice.
If this is different for me, it’s a difference of degrees, not kind. I write to you to teach you how to write. I write to you to teach you how to read. I do it to freeze instruction and give you access to my instruction anytime, anywhere.
And when the feedback is more critical, I write because that criticism never applies to every student. The student who listens most attentively isn’t the student who needs the lecture about listening more attentively. The student who takes notes on this post isn’t the student who needs the reminder to read more carefully1,
My own metacognition might, therefore, lead me to intervene in the classroom as a whole to help us work together to make better choices. This post, with its sense of who is reading it, exists in part to guard more invested students against worry and the Forer effect — and this is a post that hopes that more invested students will recognize the Forer effect from their careful reading.
While we think differently about habits and habitats, we will make some changes to the class period.
First, some classes will have assigned seats for a little while. We have two triptych panels worth of data suggesting the need for assigned seats. Again, you are studying self-control; while you need the opportunity to practice it, you also need correction when you fail. New seats (and a bit of isolation) will build better habits.
Second, all classes are going to spend some time away from screens. There is now a corner in our classroom with space to store 30 chromebooks, tablets, etc.; next to that is a wall organizer that can hold 30 smartphones. At the start of every class, you must make the deliberate decision about where your tech goes. The screen is no longer your default, and I expect to see more and more of you removing the distraction by placing it in this corner.
If you want some context for this, please read my thoughts on shifting to interstitial teaching, this recent post about the physical classroom, or the note I left parents for Open House. You must sometimes be forced to balance the interstitial stuff with hands-on, creative, face-to-face learning. You have to put the screen down.
As I wrote to your parents, the difference between our interstitial classroom and a flipped classroom is that you still have the option in here to read the instructional posts during class time. It is designed to be an anytime, anywhere system. That does not mean, however, that you should read in class. In fact, that cannot be your default choice.
The most compelling reason to push you away from reading this website in class is that reading is an intensely individual act. It requires focus. Once you’ve finished a text, you can (and should) invite peers and teachers into the conversation, but the initial reading is about you and only you. What you learn is built on your experience with and understanding of that text.
As a result, if you choose in the first few minutes of class to read instructional posts, there must be a significant reason. You might have fallen behind, gotten overwhelmed by work in other classes, or lost the Internet at home. Otherwise, I know that each of you has access to a screen for this kind of interstitial reading, because the district gave you a computer. You can read these instructional posts in bursts, over lunch or in study hall or while waiting for the bus. 90% or more of you also have a smartphone, and these posts are designed for readability on those smaller screens. You do not need to read these posts in class.
Another point about your access to these instructional materials: You can always print copies of anything that is not already photocopied for you. We have our own classroom printer dedicated to that purpose. You can also print to the iLC, if you prefer to do that. You can print at home, if you have a printer there. And whenever I sense that it could be helpful to give you a paper copy of a post, I make a class set of copies. Your syllabus talks about moving toward a paperless classroom, but it’s a movement; we aren’t anywhere close to being paperless, and if we do get there, you will always have the option to print individual copies of anything.
To recap, you can access the interstitial teaching of this course in many ways, at almost any hour, and almost anywhere. Because of that access, your default action in class can no longer be to read these posts. To help you with this choice, there is now a corner of our classroom where you can temporarily store your computer, phone, tablet, etc.
Moving on, you use the first few minutes of each class period to decide clearly and consciously how you will spend the time. If you keep your computer in front of you, it should only be so that you can create. Even leaving comments online gets away from the kinetic act of creation we need to embrace, because that’s a part of interstitial instruction. Think of it this way: You have access to Google and this website anywhere, but you only have access to this physical space once a day for 42 minutes.
I’ll give you an example of how this might work, and then I’ll connect it to the grade abatement profiles used to assess your choices.
P2 is a class of 30 students. It’s big enough to feel crowded, even in a large classroom, so students tend begin the period loudly, sitting where they always sit, computers open in front of them.
Every P2 starts with morning announcements. That lasts a few minutes, and it gives us an external timer of sorts. Starting now, P2 can use the morning announcements as a backdrop for settling down to make deliberate decisions about how to move about the classroom and make better use of its resources. Among many other choices, these P2 students can store their computers and phones in that newly constructed corner. They can move the furniture around to facilitate small- or large-group discussion. A few might approach me to indicate that they really do need the time that day to catch up on interstitial reading; in that case, I might suggest they take a pass to the iLC to read in a quieter environment. Students might roll over the cart of Expo markers and erasers, readying themselves to use the whiteboard to brainstorm.
When those morning announcements end, P2 can launch into their work for the day, and their decisions will be more deliberate than they would otherwise be. Computers would be open only for students collaborating on writing or working individually on a response. Phones would be out to look up information or check directions or confirm something in a post. There would be movement and creative chaos, and pretty much every day would look and feel different.
That’s a makerspace, and you can’t opt out of its requirements. The fourth tier of profiles starts, in fact, with the idea that you complete every required assignment, which now includes the scenario I’ve just described. You cannot opt out of making better choices, and you cannot opt out of this focus on using screens less often in class and more often interstitially. The language of an 8 explicitly references the classroom environment; if you make more deliberate decisions about technology, you will improve that environment immediately.
On the other end of the assessment spectrum, the language of Tier 1 and Tier 2 explicitly references an inability or unwillingness to invest in the classroom environment. You can motivate yourself that way, at first, as necessary; if you force yourself to adapt to avoid punishment, you’ll sto;; experience some of the benefits of the change. Eventually, you’ll be making decisions for the right reasons. That, too, is the design of the course.
Ask questions about this below, and recognize that these comment sections exist to promote discussion interstitially. You can do something similar through Google+, the comment section of a Google Doc, a group text, etc.; all that matters is that it happens interstitially. In class, you need to push yourself away from the screen to engage your peers in person.
In my more cynical and self-deprecating moments, I wonder why I preach to the choir if I hear only the same voices in a call and response. ↩
I think I’m understanding the need for a classroom that uses our screens less and I believe that’s a strong motivating factor of increased face-to-face interactions. However, I feel that most of the work I do for this class is reflecting: responding to posts, exploring my relationship with a skill in a post, writing metacognitively, reflecting on an idea that someone shared with me, etc. Consequently, I feel the need to do most of my work on my computer. I think that if I reduced my screen use to 30% or so of the time, I would have to do twice as much work at home on my Chromebook to compensate for not writing much during class time. So… am I misunderstanding what most of our work needs to be (do I need to decrease my emphasis on writing and try to have more discussions?) or have I just not reached the point where I know how to adapt?
I agree with this a lot Jane, especially in the sense that a majority of the work at hand can only be found online thus encouraging me to spend more time typing or reading off of a screen. But at the same time our phones and computers are being referred to as distractions. I’m unsure as to how we are supposed to spend our classroom time when most of this work needs to be completed on a device of some sorts. I am able to reflect but not being able to reread my own words or even maybe understand them better is sometimes challenging and frustrating.
It’s always about efficacy. Always. You should use your device, because it’s part of your learning; and if you have an approach that works well, you should keep using that approach. This is the problem I’ve always encountered when I use general feedback: It doesn’t apply to everyone, but the students who take it most seriously are the students who actually need it least.
You and Jane should notice that you are the only comments on a post from last week. That’s an important reflection of who you are as students. What’s more important is this: This post has only been viewed nine times. To me, that means that we have to figure out exactly what folks are doing in class with their screens and devices, because they aren’t looking at instruction.
It’s all a process, though. Remember that. I want to help you be better students and human beings; that takes feedback loops and discussion and adjustment.
I think it depends on how you learn.
Sometimes, the instructional posts will be printed out on physical paper, in addition to being online. That way, you can have the choice between reading it on the website, and reading it from a piece of paper.
For me, staring at a piece of paper and reading off of it for an entire class period is mind-numbingly awful. However, for some reason, it’s better when it’s on a computer.
Maybe it’s just nice as a change of pace, since in school, we’ve been forced to read paper after paper for the past 10 or so years.
Or maybe it’s because the links scattered throughout each post can expand on the lesson in different ways (through other articles, comic strips, videos, etc), which is something that paper can’t really do, unless you were to print out every linked article in addition to the original article.
Meanwhile, the use of paper can help to prevent distractions for some.
Regardless, I think it just mainly boils down to whatever works best for you.
I’ve been thinking a lot about how we use the screens to learn. I had noticed in the past that most of the work I do in this class is responding to posts, Pareto Projects, and conversations through writing- more accurately, typing on my Chromebook. I think this kind of work has its merit because it allows me to draw meaningful conclusions about something I worked on that day by exploring my thoughts through writing. Then, on Tuesday, I worked on the Spider Graphs, and I was able to self-assess and help others do the same, purely through conversation and through using a relaxing process- drawing- to arrive at some sort of evaluation in a more creative and screen-less way. This experience opened my eyes as to how we can learn without having to engage in some long reflection (although that still has its place sometimes) and spending time on our devices. Now that I’ve seen that, I tend to think about reducing our screen usage as much more doable. I’m also looking for more ways to reflect and find meaning without using the Chromebooks so much. A Spider Graph would be one example of this but I’m hoping to find many more ways as well (possibly using the whiteboards?). How can I find more kinesthetic methods of learning to augment the individualized, screen-oriented reflections that are occupying most of my learning now?