Who Knows the Question?

Judge a man by his questions rather than by his answers. -- Voltaire

Our society loves clever kids.  We hold spelling and geography bees, lauding those whippersnappers who memorize and spit back the facts.  When a high school student scores a perfect 2400 on the SAT, we marvel at this amazing feat and the college doors that will be blown off the hinges by such prowess.  On a daily basis, teachers call on students with hands held high and give them a big smile or maybe even a Jolly Rancher if they answer correctly.  Now, I’m not saying that we shouldn’t appreciate these children and young adults who are exceedingly good at memorizing and maybe even applying some knowledge, but I think that we are really looking at the wrong end of the equation.  What we should be focusing on is teaching students how to ask the questions -- good questions.  That is a skill that will transcend knowing the capital of Botswana or even knowing how to spell “daiquiri.”

I love to hear adults tell kids, “Now, that’s a really good question.”  Is it a good question because the answer is not obvious?  Or, is it a good question because the answer is complex and may vary with circumstances or conditions?  Or, is it a good question because it demonstrates that the child understands enough about something to ask the right question that will get to the root of the problem.  Or, is it a good question because no one has yet found the answer?

It is not difficult to teach students to ask good questions, but too often we are intent on asking the questions themselves to get “right” answer.  I remember years ago attempting to get my students to write “good questions” after reading chapters in a novel.  Initially, they were terrible at asking meaningful questions simply because they had rarely been asked to do it.  But as the year progressed, they improved dramatically as we continued to discuss the meaning of “good questions,” and as we modeled good questions for each other.  It was freeing for the students not to have to remember inane details in the text to prove that they had read chapters 4 and 5.  Their questions showed that they had read and understood deep and sometimes subtle aspects of the story.

Of course the big problem for many schools and students is that the BIG TEST does not care about questioning.  I would love to see a big stakes assessment give students a picture, story, or scenario and tell students -- “After reading this passage or viewing this picture, ask a question about it and then explain the importance or significance of your question.”  Wow, that sure would be hard for the folks at ETS to score. I guess that's the problem . . . in order for this scenario to play out, we need to acknowledge that there is much more to school than answering someone else's questions.

All Things Piratical

photo by Tanja Mamas

One of the best things about being a faculty member is that I sometimes get to learn from and with our students.  This occurred recently when I was asked to become a member of the pirate chorus in our middle school musical, The Pirates of Penzance, Jr.  As a student, I shunned any opportunities to be on stage.  Like many young people, I was terrified of appearing foolish to my peers.  Over the years, I conquered those fears and often relish the irony of being the assistant principal who does goofy things like disco dancing in the hallways, so I was excited to join the fun.  

I have had a couple of brief cameos in past plays, and I expected my pirate part to be a quick wave and laugh.  However, I attended my first practice a couple of weeks before the performance date and was startled to find that I actually had to sing and act in several numbers.  While I am egocentric enough to be in our middle school play, I’m not quite so needy as to have to recount my struggles learning lines or figuring out drama jargon.  I will simply say that I spent a lot of time working on the play over the past several weeks, and my wife and kids are grateful not to have to listen to “A Rollicking Band Of Pirates We” in the car anymore.

I had always known that working on the play was a special thing for the students involved, but I never really realized how special.  After a couple of weeks of practices, a dress rehearsal, and an actual performance, I felt like I was accepted as just another one of the actors.  The students and I joked together, chatted at times when we should have been listening to direction, sang the silly warm-up riffs, drank imaginary “pirate sherry,”  put on lipstick, and stood side-by-side on the stage.  A student and I got to take a few swings at each other in a fight scene, and he had a blast pretending to pummel me.  (I think he may have taken a little too much joy in this).  

From being a regular cast member, I got to understand the team spirit involved in the production.  I have heard all about egos and prima donnas in acting circles, but there was none of that happening on our set.  The tech crew, actors, directors, costumers, and make-up “moms” all supported the primary mission, and all worked together to put on the best play possible.  What is so amazing to me is that everyone knew their respective parts so well that the play would have been a success without any adults present during the performance.  This is not to discount the wonderful direction of Mandy Bean and Beth Heinberg, the costume work of Susan Mycroft, or the talents of tech master, Mike Congleton, but rather to extol their great leadership by bringing a group of middle school students and a bumbling administrator to a place of independence and competence.

This play is a brilliant microcosm of the skills we value in our middle school.  While there may be some external motivation like applause, the students’ participation as a member of the crew or cast is voluntary.  Most of the students like it because it involves them in something that is much bigger than themselves.  We challenge our students to get involved, to form relationships, to achieve something of value, and to gain confidence and strength of character.  It is difficult for me think of a better venue for them to practice and gain these attributes.

I received a professional and personal gift this year by being allowed to become a student in my own school.  If anything, my involvement with Pirates of Penzance, Jr. raised my respect for what we accomplish on a daily basis within our community.  And, yes, Elizabeth, I will shave off my scrubby beard!

Gain Control

In the second week of the ECCMOOC course, ELearning and Digital Cultures, we have been asked to explore the future of digital technology.  The first two videos on the resources page are ads by large corporations, Corning and Microsoft, that show how they believe their products will integrate into our future lives.




These videos emphasize the need for a different type of education, one that embraces technology and prepares students to use and interact with technology with ease.  We want our students to understand technology well enough so that they can use it to better their lives and the lives of others.

I frequently tell parents and students, technology is a tool, but it is a seductive tool.  We have to recognize when technology is changing the way that we live our lives and interact with others, and make conscious decisions how we use it.  One of the biggest faults for most of us is that we have become users of technology without making conscious decisions on the impact of that use.  While some say that the ability to conduct a search online will be the most useful skill for our current students, I would argue that being able to decide when and how to use technology will be an even more important skill.

As I was driving into work this morning, I heard an interview with an MIT professor who is concerned with the effect that technology is having on relationships. She thinks that sending texts and email makes it easy for us to disconnect from important relationships without having to face the consequences of the disconnection.  Concepts like this are what our students need to be discussing and understanding, so that they can actually understand the consequences of their use of technology -- the pluses and minuses -- before they make the choice to use it.

For those seeking some good advice on how to make technology work for us without gaining control over us, I recommend the last few chapters Clay Johnson's book, The Information Diet.  Johnson gives some practical ideas on how we can become "conscious consumers" of media and users of technology.

Dystopian or Utopian: Two Films

Part of the content of this MOOC course is to look at some films and try to decide if and how they represent a utopian or dystopian view.  There are four videos listed as resources.  The first one, Inbox, is about a two young adults trying to find a meaningful relationship.


To me, the use of the bags show that the mystery involved in human relationships can't be replaced by technology.  At about 1:48 into the film, the woman logs into her gmail account and seems to be bored with communicating by technology, almost immediately closing the laptop.  She then begins her bag relationship with the young man which defies the conventions of normal life.  Perhaps the director is telling us the there is something about human relationships that can't be defined, something weird, crazy, and magical.

The other video that I'm putting up was not one of the resources within the course, but it was shared in a tweet by one of the other students in the course.  The message is a lot simpler to decipher, but it is also clever and powerful.

Organization of a MOOC

After agreeing not to cheat in the MOOC course, E-Learning and Digital Cultures, I opened the link to the course content and found a well organized site.

First, there is a welcome to the course that outlines the resources and requirements.  The resources -- film, readings, ways to discuss -- are easy to access.  Also listed are the requirements for the course:

• Contribute to a discussion board for each weekly topic
• Blog responses to the topic, tagging the with #EDCMOOC
• Set up or join a room in Synchture to discuss the films in real time
• Create an image or other visual representation of your response to the topic and post it in social media
• Tweet my thoughts

As writing about the organization of a webpage is about as engaging as watching someone floss their teeth, I have included an image:

Listed on the left-hand side of the page is the course content for the first block of the course which lasts for two weeks.  We are supposed to examine utopias and dystopias, first from past perspectives and the following week from future perspectives.