Reflections on the Learning Creative Learning Online Course

The final session of the Learning Creative Learning (LCL) online course, hosted by MIT Media Lab, was presented on Monday, May 13. I'm grateful I had the opportunity to participate in the course. It helped me to reflect on my beliefs about education: the power of interest-based learning, the "guide alongside" model for teachers and mentors, the advantages of open educational resources, and the importance of tinkering and self-discovery. 

I was glad to be reminded that learning is a two-way conversation, not only between teachers and students, but also as a process of peer-to-peer (student-to-student and teacher-to-teacher) collaboration. It's not enough to take in or "consume" information by reading, watching, and experimenting; we also have a responsibility to reflect on the process and share what we learn with others as we go along. Although many of us have a tendency to keep to ourselves (myself included), I know the LCL course would not have been nearly as good if everyone had chosen to "lurk" instead of posting their questions, reflections,  and experiences. I learned as much from the participants as I did from the course itself. For example, from one of my classmates (Shane Freeman), I learned about Problem-Based Learning at Sammamish High School: 



Shane also freely shared his creative presentation on "The Authentic Classroom." 

Like me, some people ended the course by writing their own blog posts on what worked well, what didn't, and what they learned (for example, see these excellent posts by Suzi Wells and Peter Taylor). Others added brief comments to the LCL Google+ Community, which in response to popular request will continue to be available for past and future participants.

Other classmates offered pointers to helpful resources, such as: the Rise Out blog ("High School Without High School," for Boston-area teens); the School of Open (free online courses); and Code.org (for learning how to program). TED Talks were popular for sharing, too: for example, Nima Zahedi directed us to the TED Talk, "Teachers Need Real Feedback," by Bill Gates:



This talk, along with the SurveyMonkey questionnaire I was asked to complete at the end of the LCL course, encouraged me to create a survey for my own course (The Real Wealth of Nations). By asking my students to give me meaningful feedback now, I am learning how to improve the way I design and teach future courses.

Although the LCL course has ended, I feel my studies are far from over. I plan to continue reading and writing about creative, innovative ways to teach and learn.

Building on TED Talks, Part II

In my previous post, Building on TED Talks: A Course for High School Seniors, I presented tentative ideas for designing a high school course that would be based on TED Talks. Since then, I have received some feedback, talked to parents and students, skimmed a collection of books, and considered various options. Based on my research, I've decided to revise my original plan.

Course Objective
My initial course objective was too vague: "Explore new ways of thinking by studying, discussing and reflecting upon a set of powerful ideas. . . ." What "powerful ideas"? Clearly, I had to be more specific. Otherwise, how could I create a cohesive TED Talk Playlist for the course? With over 1500 TED Talks in the full catalog, it would take me hundreds of hours to preview all of them. Even though I managed to haphazardly select some excellent speakers from nearly every one of the main TED categories (business, design, entertainment, global issues, science and technology), I could see how jumping from Susan Cain to Clay Shirky to Jacqueline Novogratz might be confusing to students if I couldn't make strong connections between these extraordinary speakers.

To improve the course focus, I asked myself two obvious questions:

• Exactly what "powerful ideas" do I want to share with the group?
• What do I hope everyone will learn by the end of the year? 

After considering these questions, I began revising my earlier plan to focus on three concepts: 

1. Democracy in the Digital Age—How does the internet influence who participates (and how and why do people feel empowered to do so)?
2. Collaborative Consumption—How does the internet alter the way we acquire and dispose of our stuff? 
3. Cognitive Surplus—In what way can we harness the power of aggregated data and manpower?

In addition to exploring these ideas, I would like to help students with blogging projects tailored to their own interests and aptitudes. My goal is to help them become more skilled at working with online content so they can (in Howard Rheingold's words) "thrive online." We can use the blogs to promote discussions within our class group; we can also consider how and why we might choose to use blogs to reach a larger audience. Hopefully, the blogging projects will provide "hands-on" experiences that will help to reinforce the major course concepts (digital democracy, collaborative consumption, cognitive surplus). 

Course Content

In a future post, I will provide a complete list of TED Talks and recommended reading for the course. Currently, I'm thinking of working with the following two books:

Net Smart: How to Thrive Online by Howard Rheingold (MIT Press, 2012) 

CreateYour Own Blog: 6 Easy Projects to Start Blogging Like a Pro by Tris Hussey (Sams Publishing, 2010)

Have you used either of these texts? Were they helpful to you? I welcome suggestions for alternative texts—ideally, inexpensive and straightforward—that explain how to use free online tools to create effective multimedia content for a range of purposes.

Building on TED Talks: A Course for High School Seniors

I have been co-teaching a class for homeschooled high school students for the past five years. The  course content has varied from one year to the next, but always our focus has been on learning about human society in different times and places, or what we broadly define as "social studies." So far, we have studied world history, world conflicts and international relations, political philosophy, U.S. history, and Early Modern European history.

Next year will be the last year for our group because most of the students (including my son) will be graduating and going on to college. For this reason, I would like to design for them an especially meaningful course, one that asks them to think seriously about their own place in the world, where they are now and where they are headed.

The rest of this post will provide a rough outline of what I have in mind (so far). I am interested in your feedback and suggestions on how I might make the course more interesting or worthwhile! In particular, what type of hands-on explorations, real-world experiences or "tinkering" might I be able to incorporate?

Homeschooling, Big Picture Learning, and the MET

Scholastic recently posted an interview with Daniel Pink (Motivation 3.0 by Dana Truby). In the interview, Pink mentions "The Big Picture Learning high school in Providence, Rhode Island" where "kids' interests dictate the curriculum." Kids who are dictating their own curriculum? Sounds like interest-based learning to me. My curiosity piqued, I used Google to learn more. 

I discovered that Pink wasn't talking about a single high school; he was referring to a whole network of schools that started with six small high schools in a state-funded public school district in Rhode Island. Additional funding for the schools came from a variety of sources, including a non-profit company called Big Picture Learning. The schools are referred to collectively as "The MET," and they serve as a model for 80 other schools across the United States (see The MET: Our History for details). 





Once I made the connection between Daniel Pink, Big Picture Learning, and The MET, I realized these schools were being talked about everywhere: The MET has been reported in the news repeatedly and was even praised by President Obama ("President Obama Praises the Met and  BPL"). 

Although I'm a home educator, I'm very interested in projects like The MET for two reasons: 

When Should You Pay for Learning?

"When should you pay for learning?" is a question most of us ask at some point in our lives. Home educators, who generally strive to keep expenses low, constantly perform a cost-benefit analysis to determine whether a particular resource or class will be worth the money. Parents, whether they homeschool or not, wonder if their kids would benefit from a private school or extra tutoring. High school seniors, planning for the future, wisely ask whether it is worth the high cost of tuition to attend college full time. Similarly, older adults weigh the expense of extra courses or special training against the opportunities for pursuing a new career or enhancing their weekly paychecks. 

Lately, the proliferation of free, online courses has encouraged people to think harder about what they are paying for when they pay for learning. Personally, my own experiences with online courses (both free and fee-per-credit ones) have been mixed. When I evaluate online courses, there are five factors I consider:

1. Content: How informative and engaging is the actual course material? Does it include only text and images (similar to a textbook) or are there also embedded videos and interactive experiences?
2. Expertise: Will I have access to a subject matter expert?
3. Social learning: Are there opportunities to learn with others who share my interest in a subject? What type of forums are in place for online discussions?
4. Motivation: Do I have enough self-discipline and interest to work on my own, or do I need a coach to push me?
5. Credentials: Am I studying this subject to improve my understanding or to improve my chances of being accepted into a program (or job) that requires a specific set of credentials? 

Course providers still seem to be in the learning phase, trying to design courses to meet a variety of needs. I believe online courses will continue to improve over time, and many are already quite good. Still, few succeed in doing everything well. That's why it's important to consider exactly what a course offers before spending any money.

www.AcademicEarth.org

Academic Earth, MIT OpenCourseWare, the Open Learning Initiative (from Carnegie Mellon University), iTunes University (with courses from  Stanford, Berkeley, and many other colleges and universities)—all these provide access to content in the same way that libraries give us access to books, but without the due dates or patron ID requirements. I can "take what I like and leave the rest," picking and choosing the lectures or subtopics I need from as many courses as I want. I can then remix the content to suit my own learning goals. If my main interest is in educational content, these free repositories serve my needs well. 

Free courses offered by providers like Coursera and EdX are similarly open to all, but they follow a predetermined schedule so the pacing is less flexible. While it is possible for students to participate as much (or as little) as they want to get what they need from the courses, the experience is less like accessing a library and more like attending a class—which can be a good thing, depending on what you want.

Fee-based online college courses (such as those offered by the Community College System of New Hampshire) package content in an inflexible way that limits access: I have to pay for an entire course, even if I'm interested in only a few topics within that course. "By the module" or "by the hour" options are not available, at least not yet. That's why, when I consider whether it is worth paying for a course, I consider how much of the course content will be of use to me (or my teenage son, who has also taken online courses). I'm also aware that my grade—and any credit I may be hoping to earn—depends upon how well I complete all of the assignments, even the ones that may not be of use to me (for example, if they cover material I have already mastered or have no interest in learning). 

When it comes to accessing expertise and social learning, neither MOOCs (Massively Open Online Courses) nor formal college courses have a monopoly. Quality in either case varies from course to course, just as it does on any college campus. As a consumer, I'm going to seek out the best experiences I can find, wherever they might be. The professors and students who participate in an online program at an accredited college might be uniquely engaged and knowledgeable, and thus worth the expense. However, since I have had some positive experiences with free online courses, I would also consider them as reasonable options for learning. I wouldn't assume a free online course is inferior just because it isn't expensive or accredited.  

If I'm looking primarily for extra motivation, I'm going to need an instructor or peer group that keeps me engaged. For example, when I wanted to be sure I would set aside time every day to write, I enrolled in a formal writing program. Likewise, my son enrolled in a formal Latin course with teacher support when he was required to study a second language because he knew he'd never do it on his own. The course helped him to stay on track. In contrast, when he was looking for a course in programming, a subject he was highly motivated to learn on his own, he chose to enroll in a free online course (MIT 6.00x: Introduction to Computer Science and Programming). The free course lacked formal teacher support but offered forums for asking questions and participating in peer-to-peer interactions. 

Depending on your goals, perhaps credentials are the most important consideration. We've all suffered through at least one boring, ineffective course just to get the grade or degree we wanted. Still, I doubt I'm the only one who believes it would be best if students could choose from the most engaging, educational courses available—regardless of where the courses were offered or how little they cost. But in practice students are inclined, or perhaps required, to choose the expensive course for credit over the free one for no credit. (Not long ago, I saw this truth in action when I audited an undergraduate course at a small liberal arts college in my area. There was no fee for auditing: I simply asked the professor if I could, and he said yes. The subject was interesting, the teacher was good, and overall it was a great learning experience. "So, why don't more people audit classes?" I wondered. I still don't know the answer, but the reaction to my decision to audit a class was revealing as astonished students asked me, "Why are you taking this class if you aren't going to get credit for it?")

So, why do we pay for learning? There was a time when we paid for access to high-quality content and expert instruction. Now, with vast repositories of online information available to us 24/7, we question whether it's worth paying $100 for a single textbook. While we're still willing to pay for expert assistance, we'd like to receive it on our own terms, as occasional tutoring or the educational equivalent of a technical support hotline (especially if those options cost less than hiring a full-time professor for a semester). We'll also pay for coaching to help us stay motivated. And, until other options for demonstrating mastery become more widely acceptable, we're still willing to pay to get official credit for taking classes, even if we wouldn't be willing to take those classes (for free!) without the credit. 

Not Close Enough: Using Google Hangouts for Group Discussions

As I type this, my son and his friends are using Skype to rehearse lines for their production of Shakespeare's "King Lear." This afternoon's practice was cancelled due to icy roads, and given how difficult it usually is to reschedule, an alternative was sought. While the kids can't do anything about the vagaries of New Hampshire weather, new technologies provide a reasonable alternative to meeting in person.

For those who are new to Skype and similar video-chat tools: video chat is faster than email, more personal than instant messaging, and cheaper than long-distance phone calls. Note: "video chat" refers to a one-on-one conversation; video conferencing is conducted with a group.

Google Hangouts uses a multi-user video chat room viewed through a browser. A few weeks ago, I made my first attempt at using Google Hangouts. According to the website, you can "video chat with up to nine friends." Perhaps I was naive, but I thought I would be able to see video images of all the people with whom I would be chatting (as this Google+ video implies). As it turns it, "your 'mileage' may vary."

Getting Started with Google Hangouts, April 2013

My goal was to hold a dynamic class discussion, where everyone would have a chance to talk and contribute, as they do during our usual face-to-face meetings. Of the seven people who participated in our Google Hangout, two were in the same building and five joined from remote locations. We quickly discovered that having two computers in close proximity distorted the audio significantly. To stop the annoying feedback and reverberations, we turned off the audio on one of the computers. That seemed to solve the problem.

Finding Creative Learning Spaces

Homeschoolers have the whole world to use for their "classroom," but most of the time we aren't looking for formal classes. Over the years, I have visited many different parks, museums, and public spaces with my children, and I have been surprised to discover how many places follow the traditional school format: an adult instructor stands in the front and tells a group of same-age children what to do. Few places permit children to enjoy open-ended, hands-on design experiences, and fewer still are appropriate for a wide range of ages. (Homeschooling parents with large families are especially cognizant of how near to impossible it is to segregate children by age for every workshop and outing.) Perhaps that's why my children have generally preferred to set up their own group learning experiences—such as the Backyard Ballistics project in the adjacent photo.

In her essay on "A Dangerous but Powerful Idea" (2007), Geetha Narayanan describes an after school learning center at the MIT Media Lab called the "Computer Clubhouse." She notes that the clubhouse has four core principles: 

1. Supporting learning through design experiences.
2. Helping youth build on their own interests.
3. Creating an emergent learning community.
4. Working always in a climate of trust and respect.

Are there any places in my own community that satisfy these criteria, I wondered? It wasn't easy to think of any at first, but I pushed myself to consider the options. 

FIRST (For Inspiration and Recognition of Science and Technology) seems like an obvious place to consider. Unfortunately, while it's true that FIRST "celebrates science and technology," it doesn't offer any open workshop hours. Kids must enroll in one of the competitive robotics programs to have access to the LEGO and robot components, and fees for participating are steep (although scholarships are available for some).