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Monday, February 17, 2014

Can You "Teach Like a Pirate"? Should You?

I first heard about the "Teach Like a Pirate" approach from DLMOOC classmate, Tim Flanagan (see his Storify about Student Voice and Choice). Curious, I looked for more information online.

I discovered that the idea comes from professional development speaker, Dave Burgess, who has written a book about it: Teach Like a PIRATE. I found one of Dave's seminars, recorded as a TEDx Talk (unfortunately, the sound quality deteriorates at 4:25, but skip ahead to 6:00 and it clears up again):



I have great admiration for anyone who can bring passion and energy to a classroom presentation. I've seen other educators who are entertaining, engaging speakers, and I would happily pay to attend their classes. For example . . .

Professor Linwood Thompson delivers World History lectures  in full costume and character.



Professor Edward Burger adds a touch of humor to his Great Courses lectures (the "Joy of Thinking" is my favorite) and Thinkwell Math instruction, as in the example below.



And then there's the renowned Professor Walter Lewin, famous for his physics lectures.



So . . .  Should YOU Teach Like a Pirate?

No doubt, these teachers are extraordinary. Certainly if you think you would love teaching like a pirate and have simply been afraid to try, don't hold back. As Burgess says, "We need people who are willing to try new things." You could be the next Burgess, Thompson, Burger, or Lewin.

But, what if you don't want to teach like a pirate?

When I see educators (at home or in schools) designing extraordinary projects, putting on shows, and keeping their kids entertained with engaging performances, I feel inspired by them but also discouraged. I can't imagine myself doing the same things. By now, I know myself well enough to know I wouldn't enjoying "teaching like a pirate," especially not as an everyday practice. When I first started homeschooling, though, I second-guessed everything I did.

Unfortunately, it is human nature for us to compare ourselves to others, whether we intend to or not. I think home educators are especially prone to self-doubt. Few of us are trained educators, and all of us confront skeptics who question whether we should be teaching our kids. Understandably, we look to each other for encouragement and advice. 

At parent gatherings, we discuss how to inspire our kids when they seem to lack motivation. I've noticed there's always at least one person who advocates what I call an "entertainment method" of teaching. With the best of intentions, she'll talk about how she "makes learning fun" for her kids by planning elaborate games and projects. She knows how to turn every road trip into an educational experience. As long as she keeps performing, her kids seem to stay interested. I don't mean any of this as a criticism: homeschooling parents with this much energy and enthusiasm are great resources, full of wonderful, creative ideas. 

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"Can I do this?" 
However,  I think parents who are new to homeschooling, the ones who come to homeschool gatherings looking beleaguered, are more likely to be asking themselves, "Will I be able to homeschool my kids successfully if I'm not able to do what this other person does?" They need to feel empowered to chart their own course, to know there's more than one way to be an effective educator. 

I also believe that, while there's nothing intrinsically wrong with keeping kids entertained to promote learning, educators don't have to become the entertainment. I've witnessed unnecessarily high levels of stress and burn-out when educators (parents or teachers) fear this is the only way their kids will learn. There's no guarantee that making subjects entertaining, enticing kids to learn, will result in deeper learning—but I'll leave that topic for another time.

If teaching like a pirate doesn't appeal to you, trust your instincts and try something else. Kids respond to role models who are authentic—a compassionate, reserved teacher who believes in her students can be just as successful as one who puts on a good show.

Saturday, February 15, 2014

Personalized Learning and Student Choice

"It is frankly difficult to understand how anyone can talk about school reform without immediately addressing the question of how students can be given more say about what goes on in their classes." —Alfie Kohn, "Choices for Children: Why and How to Let Students Decide"
I'm going to play Devil's Advocate for a moment and ask, "Why talk about school reform at all?" The old school model of "I teach, you learn" works—sort of. During the twelve years or more when students are in school, a large percentage of them manage to learn. If not everything, at least something. Most graduate and eventually get jobs.

It isn't a perfect system, but what is? Why not continue to teach our children in the same way that our parents and grandparents learned?

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If this doesn't strike you as absurd, then you may be the type of learner for whom the system was designed. You might like following instructions, knowing what to expect, and having everything planned in advance for you. Perhaps you learn well from books and lectures and are very good at recalling what you have read or heard. Maybe you get high marks on standardized tests. There isn't necessarily anything wrong with learning in this way; in fact, I happen to be one of the people for whom this old-school model works pretty well. It simply isn't optimum for all people, all of the time.

There's another problem with doing things the same way we've always done them: it doesn't result in progress. To improve upon an idea, we have to be willing to try something new. Even if we acknowledge that the old model "worked" well enough to provide an adequate education for large numbers of students, no one would describe our current educational system as flawless. There's always room for improvement. No educator deserving of the title would be satisfied with "good enough," so we have to keep asking ourselves: How can we do a better job?

Here's where I agree with Alfie Kohn: one way we can do a better job is by giving students "more say about what goes on in their classes."

I'm familiar with Kohn's books (Punished By RewardsThe Case Against Standardized TestingThe Schools Our Children Deserve) and was pleased to see his article listed among the course materials for Week 4 of DLMOOC. Kohn summarizes the benefits of including students in the decision-making process, such as an improved sense of well-being, better self-discipline, greater academic achievement, avoidance of burnout (student and teacher), and democracy in action. He writes:
"There is nothing new about the idea that students should be able to participate, individually and collectively, in making decisions. This conviction has long played a role in schools designated as progressive, democratic, open, free, experimental, or alternative; in educational philosophies called developmental, constructivist, holistic, or learner-centered; in specific innovations such as whole-language learning, discovery-based science, or authentic assessment; and in the daily practice of teachers whose natural instinct is to treat children with respect."
The theme for Week 4 of the Deeper Learning MOOC has been personalized learning, student voice, and student choice—topics I have written about in several earlier posts (see, for example, Choices: Too Many, Not Enough, or Just Right? and Treating Students as Equal Partners). I'm delighted to have been introduced, through the DLMOOC, to many people who are working hard to create opportunities for students in schools to have a say in what and how they learn. The panelists for this week's discussion were inspiring.



Keven Kroehler, Executive Director for Edvisions Schools, talks about creating a "level playing field" in schools, where the contributions of students and teachers are equally valued and respected. He comments that "students think of things that teachers hadn't thought of," which reminded me of a few situations I faced last year (When Your Students Know More Than You Do, and Lessons Learned). Kevin also emphasized the importance of offering students authentic choices—the ability to make decisions about things that matter to them—rather than false choices, as in, "Which of these two preselected, mandatory activities do you want to do?" Kids know when they are being manipulated.  

Likewise, I appreciated panelist Kathleen Cushman's perspective on student voice. She talked about students being "citizens, not subjects," and described student voice as an "equity issue."She asks teachers to consider: "Whose voice gets listened to? Who gets to speak?" She recommends what I call "The Smorgasbord Approach," exposing students to a variety of things and allowing them to choose what interests them (as I describe in my post on Nurturing Interest-Based Learning). 

Panelist Brandon WileyDirector of Asia Society's International Studies Schools Network (ISSN), talked about the importance of "recognizing students as key constituents, clients, customers," and giving them "a seat at the table," and I nodded my head in agreement. If students are the "key constituents," then it's inconceivable for them to be left out of the planning, implementation and evaluation of their work. This requires us to change how we think about everything: what students learn, how they learn it, and how they demonstrate their learning.  

I enjoyed hearing the DLMOOC panelists describe their iterative design process (similar to what I blogged about in Kindergarten-Style Planning), and it was interesting to me to see how this approach works in a school setting. Teachers collaborated not only with their students but with other teachers, parents, and members of the community. They developed a student's plan of study incrementally, continually learning and building upon what they discovered as they went along. During each stage of the project (planning, implementing, assessing), all the people with a vested interest were consulted and given opportunities to provide feedback. While this must have complicated the decision-making process, it also helped everyone make new connections, personally and cognitively.

The students who were on the "Lens into the Classroom" Student Panel for Week 4 were engaging, too.


Allowing students to have a say in how they learn is a school reform that has clearly made a big difference in the lives of these students. While this doesn't prove that all students' learning would necessarily be deepened in a High Tech High type of school, it seems likely that it would. Even the students who prefer a more traditional approach would benefit, because they could choose that method for themselves.

When my youngest daughter was fourteen, she said she wanted to attend the public high school in our town. Up until that point, she had always been homeschooled and free to choose what, when and how she learned. Why would she want to give that up? There were a variety of reasons—she wanted to see what school was like; she was interested in meeting more kids her age than she could find in the homeschooling community; she wanted to learn in a classroom setting. Ultimately, what mattered most was that she had a choice. She could return to homeschooling at any time, and she knew that was an option. That made all the difference in how she approached her education. She evaluated her own needs, assessed what the school had to offer, and figured out how to make the best use of her time there.

Giving kids choice doesn't mean deciding what that choice should be. It means we allow kids to figure out who they are and what they need to grow and thrive. A structured classroom with a teacher lecturing in the front isn't necessarily going to prevent deeper learning, but it shouldn't be the only option.

Saturday, February 1, 2014

Deeper Learning Goals Require a Supportive Infrastructure

“A life worth living, and work worth doing—that is what I want for children (and all people), not just, or not even, something called 'a better education'.”—John Holt
It isn't easy to walk the fine line between mentoring and meddling, between offering support and insisting on "helping." Over the years, as I have been experimenting with a curriculum-free approach to education, three things have helped me more than anything else:
  1. Permission to make mistakes. I had to give up the notion that I would get it right the first time. I had to be able to admit—to myself and my kids—when I had erred on the side of providing too much guidance (or too little). I had to experience a sinking ship a few times before I could turn things around. 
  2. Trust. Patience, faith, trust—whatever it takes to step back and observe instead of interfering when things aren't progressing exactly as one might like them to be. When it comes to helping another person become who they are meant to be, there's so much we can't possibly know. There's a temptation to deal with the uncertainty by trying to control everything, but that seldom succeeds. 
  3. Support. I could not have stayed the course if I had not had a community of people who were willing to listen, empathize, and share their own stories with me. 
When my kids were learning according to the expected or traditional timetable, and they chose academic subjects that educators have typically valued (reading, writing, math, science), it was easy for me to trust that everything would work out fine, regardless of the teaching method I used. The hard part was having faith when their interests were unconventional, bordering on obsessive, or proceeding at an unusual pace. I had to ask myself, "How resolved am I, really, to allowing my children to learn according to their own, unique internal plans?" If one of my children was" falling behind," what did that mean? Did I need to be concerned, or could I trust that he or she would eventually "catch up"?

Knowing when to intervene and when to trust the process is difficult but extremely important.

Most of the time, I simply had to learn to trust my kids and myself. It was not particularly helpful when concerned strangers would ask what I was doing, or how I was doing it, or "exactly what my kids were learning from playing all afternoon."If I had been required to report regularly to an oversight committee or school official, the days when it seemed like nothing was being learned (or everything was falling apart!) would have been much harder for me to recover from. I imagine the same might be true for teachers who are trying to encourage deeper learning in their classrooms. 

It takes courage to do something unconventional, and educating children without knowing for sure whether or not you are going to be successful is terrifying, especially when the stakes are so high. No adult wants to be responsible for messing up a child's future, so the pressure to do the job well is immense. Having others you respect say, "It's going to be OK, you are doing fine," or "Here, this is what I did, and it seemed to work," can make all the difference.