Ironically, as math is far harder to teach (dodging bric-a-bracs) than anything else, we are far less likely to be able to acquire technique simply by reading. I want, if I am trying to pick up something new, a live person in the room with me, modeling, answering my questions. Face it, I can’t simply suggest introducing the theme of rebirth in chapter 4 instead of chapter 5.

And we are the ones who know some math. We require instruction. The kids shouldn’t?

I meant to say, “for whom Web 2.0 and next-gen. teaching ARE made. My bad.:)

I’m an EFL teacher. Hm, that explains why I keep coming back here, and am learning a lot.

my impression that math, maybe more than any other secondary subject, lends itself least to this self-directed, participatory culture promoted by the next-gen crowd is not just a facetious comment. And while some are certainly promoting a kind of culture, some are naturally embracing the social-software-networking tools (web 2.0) because they do lend themselves to the skills some teachers are trying to develop in their students. After a certain point, you learn to write better by writing, and by having others read and respond to your writing.

The next-gen strategy, as best as I understand it, is to put them in charge of their learning, hand them the textbooks, get them on the Internet making math, get them talking to each other
The next-gen strategy works well with students who’ve already mastered the basics. ‘Cept the next-gen teachers often forget to mention that bit.

Learning at every turn from each of the comments here, as well as the ongoing train of thought (and questions) Dan poses on the blog (and via other blogs).

Thanks on all fronts.

Skill development takes…development. And time. And careful consideration of the foundation details that are eventually built upon to develop long-term knowledge (and the ability to ‘do’ something in the discipline).

Fully agree with the implicit and explicit statements here.

ALL that one can hope for with regards to anything “nex:gen” or 2.0 or whatever you want to call it is to foster a culture of curiosity and empathy on all fronts. To split hairs between skills and mature wisdom, or one subject vs. another, is to minimize what great teachers have done for centuries.

All the 2.0 consideration offers is the ability to foster new opportunities to engage. As all of us are realizing via our own blog usage as educators (and learners), or video usage (Dan), our own learning, networking, and passions are being fueled in a way that was conceivably impossible in the past.

Can we give even a hint of this to our kids, while still maxing out their skill development regardless of their background or the subject matter? Curious.

Love the conversation. Thanks on all fronts, even if I am a 2.0 proponent and an English (read: non-math) guy. Forgive on both accounts, but know you’re having an impact on my thinking.

And isn’t that the point, rather than simply staying in our various camps of opinion?

Cheers, Christian

Here’s my personal ball/strike count from the last 2 years that frames at least a hint of my own biases as I prepare to return to the classroom in less than 2 months for the first time in 3 years, Dan:

1. Started blogging 2 years ago. NOTHING prior to it in my experience came close to fostering debate, conversation, introspection, research, and radically self-challenging even my own ideas for me as a learner in school or life. Parts of grad school came close, but the end-game had a boundary. Blogging (and other 2.0 elements) has no end-game. It just evolves. And for learning, that counts big in my book. The vast majority of what I seek I am NOT an “expert” on. My desire to learn, however, or at least to be in the conversation, necessitates that I scramble for footing constantly.

2. Started consulting and speaking on a national and international level 2 years ago. Suddenly move from being a teacher with 10 years of classroom experience on a wide # of fronts (and socio-economic kidscapes) in solitary classroom settings to being a hired ‘expert’ in front of large and very diverse professional audiences all focused on the future of education. The fees and ego-strokes and travel opp’s were humbling and stimulating. At the end of the day, however, boredom or ennui eventually sets in. Simply being the ‘expert’ with an audience mixed with less-than-interested to extremely-engaged ‘learners’ listening and taking notes and trying to figure out the ‘solution’ begins to lack value if you remain the “expert” only. Where the real value lays is in the conversations off-stage, in the collaborative ventures that grow out of such conversations, in the exchange in roles between ‘expert’ and ‘learner’ at all turns.

3. For the last 2 years, there arose a remarkable desire to return to the classroom at the same rate that #2 grew in reality for me. And thanks to #1 (esp. blogging across a remarkable range of networks and ideascapes), my perspective on being an ‘expert’ and being a ‘teacher’ has shifted dramatically. I have NOT thrown out the ability nor the need to be an ‘expert’ with my students, nor to ‘lecture’ at strategic moments. Both will be evident in spades whenever they further the learning curve for my students. A the same time, two things have changed since before I left teaching 3 years ago: 1) As a young teacher, ego and fear and wet-behind-the-ear-ness demanded that I prove I was an ‘expert’ to both student and teacher. Just not sure that matters much now. To anyone. Framed diplomas on the wall. Plenty of experience both in and out of the classroom. Always 100 exponential steps ahead of all of my students at a moment’s notice in my chosen academic discipline. And I get that handy title, desk and grading book that pretty much seals the deal when I need proof…or the kiddos to hush up. While I can’t deny that ego and fear won’t rear their heads on occasion in the next 30+ years of my teaching career, I suspect that I’ll be faster in admitting when they are driving the “must prove I’m an expert” reaction…and then switch gears to focusing on my kids’ own learning and passions and questions instead. Additionally, the “expertise” will be used in ways I lacked the instinct and wisdom for during the first 10 years, and will never (within reason) get in the way of my students wrestling with problems of their own and beginning to take ownership of the class and topics/projects at hand. 2) I will walk into a teaching situation this year with no assigned classroom of my own, potentially a loaned laptop, and a school that is open to limited 1.0 technology use primarily…and do not expect to use even 5% of the digital/2.0 options afforded to me today while in the classroom. 95% of my work with students will be with books, pens, paper, and conversation. Both by choice and by default resources. The difference, however, lies in the fact that EVERY opportunity to shift from demonstrating my own “expertise” and assuming that of my kids are incapable of learning both the foundation skills and the higher-order, conceptual layers of any topic simultaneously will be at the center of any class I teach. And any chance I have to nudge, cajole, tease, or invite my students into risking creative/intellectual discovery beyond the foundation skills, I will go there without apology.

And this to me — the drum roll, please — is the 2.0 promise in my steep-learning-curve-still opinion.

What does it look like? Conversation. By any means (and digital or paper tools) necessary.

Now, there is an important and secondary issue of disciplines that I’m pleased has been brought up first by Dan and then by others who have taken the time to comment. Definitely worth exploring.

Dan, you’ve noticed that tech, history, language arts bloggers tend to have one voice — one that dismisses lecture as an appropriate teaching strategy and student need. I can’t argue for or against that. You’ve noticed it, so I take it as legit. Is there a difference in perspective between educators that a) either are technology centered by literal contract/position and/or b) in classrooms that revolve more around interpreting texts/voices…vs…those educators that must focus a) on the foundation skills before anything else can be considered next and/or b) are inherently more factually based vs. conceptually based more time than not? Sure. Is this echoed in the blogging (and 2.0) world? Sure. But is it new? No. this is Plato and Socrates in nature. This is left and right brain in nature. This is the great default divide found between ALL academic subjects at all times in history. And also within the various domains of each subject. And the various levels of each subject. And in various nations/cultures who see each subject slightly differently than others.

This is, however, hardly a 2.0 issue alone.

Ultimately, we as human beings first, teachers second, tend to fall into 2 camps (if we must see everything in a black/white way):

1) The point of learning the subject is to master the ‘facts’/’skills’ of the subject.

or

2) The point of learning the subject is to form ‘opinion’/’questions’ about the subject.

At various points in the process, we must ebb and flow between ‘facts’/’skills’ and ‘opinions’/’questions’ in order to have relevant skin on the table within the discipline. Certain subjects lend themselves to more of one vs. the other at any given time. And schools — as structures, schedules, and assessment filters — tend to exaggerate those differences in order to facilitate collective goals and to maintain social mores. At the end of the day, however, life demands that we master just enough of the ‘facts’/’skills’ that we can validate our ‘opinions’/’questions’ about any given subject so that we can a) stand a chance at moving up the academic ladder (if desired/required), b) stand a chance at being a viable candidate for some professional/social opportunity, and b) stand a change at being a reasonably interesting human being to others.

With all that said, I don’t spend too much time really worrying about whether or not we’ll ever achieve School 2.0 as a literal (or desired) reality. I merely use it personally as a challenge to myself to push learning forward by any means (or tools) necessary) and as a prompt for others to wage in on all sides. And I don’t spend too much time worrying about the need to outlaw (or make uncomfortable/irrelevant) the issue of lecturing or skill development. I merely use such conversations/questions/examples as a challenge to myself my own teaching style to engender something far more dynamic than just broadcasting my own “expertise” within my classroom and with my students.

The red herring lies in both the phrase “School 2.0” and “lecture”. Regardless of how you use them. Using either isn’t bad inherently. But it helps to see the red herring writing on the wall from both POV’s. And to be comfortable simultaneously in both camps at all times.

But, as I have said all along, it is about conversation. Only. And through conversation and a constant shifting between the roles of “expert” and “learner” within our own classrooms, we all stand to gain immeasurably from the process.

Again, thank you for the post that sparked this, Dan (as well as the many that have come before it). And thanks to those — whether math teachers or the ‘fuzzy idea/skill’ types who sit on my side of the language arts fence (he smiles) — who have commented here that have helped my own mind focus in better ways.

Cheers,
Christian

Perhaps when teaching basics skills math, the lesson is not so adeptly. However, I do not think that is the case. In fact, if anything, I think math lends itself more to the use of school 2.0 tools than any other subject- whether it be basic math, where the repetition allowed by computers is extremely useful, or an advanced class where collaboration is integral. I myself can’t speak for remedial math classes since I have been in the most advanced math classes throughout my schooling. However, I can say that in my advanced discrete/algebra classes we use school 2.0 and collaboration tools a lot. Maybe my teacher doesn’t record lessons, but all our work is stored in Google Docs so students can collaborate easily. When you only meet 3 times a week, the ability to collaborate outside of class is invaluable.
In addition to the ability for collaboration, if all in-class lectures/teaching were recorded and accessible from home, it would be extremely useful for me and many other students. Oftentimes, you must think back to the lesson when working on homework, and it would be very useful if we were able to watch the lesson again.
Math lends itself to school 2.0 in far more ways than this student can imagine.

Scott, I like you’re definitions. That’s how I see it in English, too. You’re writing about Old School v. New School teaching in general, not just math teachers.

Dan:
Perhaps I’m being narcissistic. Perhaps kids in other content areas carry the same intellectual baggage as do my FBB Algebra crowd.

Yeah, you’re being narcissistic. Just mention the word “Shakespeare” to your students and watch their eyes glaze over with juicy “I-can’t-do-this”-ness. That intellectual baggage comes with all students in all subject areas at all skill levels. My Proficient students feel weak in the knees over Hawthorne just as much as my BB students. Just as many kids say, “I can’t do math” as say, “I can’t write,” immediately giving up on an entire subject due to previous failures.

I don’t think you need to abdicate authority to bloggy things. That’s not the only place learning occurs, but it is one such place. You’re right: an entire year of students directing their own learning would fail. That’s where your (and my) five-minute lectures come in handy.

This entire post applies to English teaching, too. Just swap out “numbers” for “words.” This entire post applies to all teachers, I’d bet. We’re all in this together.

I don’t like Scott’s definitions one bit. There’s a wide range of approaches to teaching math, and a continuum of how we teach.

Creating a charicature of a traditional teacher in order to mock is exactly what I thought Dan was getting at in his Web 2.0 post.

Look, the smart board faces the wall, graphing calculators come out ‘as needed,’ I even keep Staedtler sharpeners so we don’t use electric in my classroom. Do I do ten examples then assign 1 – 35 odd? Go ahead, guess.

I think we have to start taking ourselves so seriously all the time. So you assign 1-35 odd. Good for you! But you know darn well you’re not an OSMT (the very fact that you read Dan’s blog bespeaks that). And I think you know exactly the teacher I’m talking about.

It’s not a caricature at all. If you visited my school, I could walk you into that teacher’s classroom. I could show you a litany of parent and student complaints. I could even show you choice quotes from his lectures like, “Don’t worry if you don’t understand what you’re doing – just do it.”

I won’t endeavor to speak for Dan, but what I got from his School 2.0 rant was that he objected to the blanket characterization of any teacher who does any form of lecturing or who doesn’t have a blog, a wiki, and/or a class of self-directed learners as “bad.”

I was the “Do 1 – 35 odd” math teacher myself so this is all about self-discovery and what helps each of us better ourselves. Goodness knows I have a long way to go as an administrator and an educator myself.

What I am going to object to here, if I may, is the implication that any time an administrator (or anyone else) points to an example of less effective teaching methods, we’re accused of painting the entire profession with that brush. Are there a lot of old-school teachers who do EXACTLY what I described? You’re kidding yourself if you say, “No.”

OTOH, are there a lot of highly effective teachers who are challenging themselves to try something different? You bet! And that’s what makes my job so much fun. Finding those folks who want to try something different and supporting them in that endeavor. Making sure they feel empowered to try (and sometimes fail with!) some innovative approahces to instruction.

Life is full of caricatures and over-generalizations. Every teacher doesn’t bolt out the door at 2:30pm and relax from June through August. Every administrator doesn’t sit in his or her office all day with their feet up playing solitaire.

To that, I point you to my initial statement: Stop taking yourself so seriously. We’ve all got a lot to learn.

No, of course I’m not that caricature. But I use next to 0 technology. So I’m not your next generation teacher, either. The divide between good and bad teachers is not a technology divide. And it’s not age. What I do best is 1) copy what effective teachers have done before me, and 2) critically examine my own teaching.

There really is a continuum. It’s not a divide.

So how do you improve teaching?

Jonathan, you’ve hit on a good point: the divide (and there most certainly is one) between good and bad teaching does not necessarily involve technology. The next generation teacher does not necessarily walk into the classroom with blog and del.icio.us account in hand. The next generation teacher looks at students and chooses the best tool for the job out of a toolbox with as wide an array of tools and as thorough a consideration of constituency as possible. Lecture? Sure, sometimes. Blog? Sure, sometimes. Homework? Sure, sometimes. PowerPoint? Never with Georgia on a PC, but other than that, go for it. And all of these things are done with consideration for the educational efficacy of the tool used.

And I still want to know what’s wrong with electric pencil sharpeners.

Scott, you sound like the kind of administrator I’d love to work with. My administrators are great people, but they aren’t working with teachers to improve teaching. They are working to keep the campus running and put out parental fires. They stop in for that once-every-two-years visitation and never step foot inside a classroom after that. But even that visitation is just a chance to declare the facts of the observation, not a quest to raise the quality of teaching.

Todd –

Thanks for the compliment. I’ve been “brought up” by some outstanding mentors who have worked hard to show me that “administratoring” is not all about discipline, budgeting, and putting out fires.

Of course, to a large extent, it’s what you make it. I love being in classrooms. I love working with teachers on developing their craft. So I make time for those things. Let’s face it – the classroom is where the rubber meets the road; where the real work is happening. If I’m not there, how can I speak with any legitimacy about instruction?

It’s important for me to be visible in classrooms. As an instructional leader, when you’re “of the fabric,” I think that what you say carries a lot more weight than someone dictating from the isolation of a high-back leather chair in the principal’s office.

But I think there is something next generation about considering how your teaching impacts students and that’s what I saw as the distinction you, Scott, made between those two types of teachers. Further, there’s something next generation about considering educational impacts of brand new tools. For instance, Jonathan, if using electric sharpeners uses less time and students get to work quicker because of it, instead of grinding away with handheld ones, it would be a shame to dismiss them. Conversely, if using handheld ones cause students to have a greater consciousness about the point they are putting on their pencils and allow students to engage in the class a bit more by throwing them around, it would suck to be forced to use electric ones.

The next generation vibe I’m picking up on in these last few comments deals with the amount of reflection a teacher has about the craft. That OSMT, as Scott calls it, doesn’t think about how to perform the job any better than he has been instructed by his master teacher or any better than his files of lessons from years past. Even if that OSMT honestly believes that sine and cosine will never help his students later in life, he teaches the concepts anyway.

It’s the way we define good teaching that’s next generation and that’s how the two terms are related.

Scott wrote:

“next-gen does not necessarily mean technology

and

technology does not necessarily mean effective instruction”

I’m glad we finally got here because, like Jonathon, I didn’t like Scott’s definitions at all. Paying attention to student learning, reflecting on your own practice, effectively guiding learning inter- and intra-lesson, this isn’t next-gen, 2.0, or OSMT. Those things are part and parcel of what it means to be an effective teacher.

And that right there, that’s the only divide we need to focus on. There are good to great teachers on one side, and truly lousy ones on the other. As median income drops and skin-color darkens, you tend to find higher concentrations of those lousy ones. It’s abhorrent, and I don’t think you’ll find the root causes in the amount, or quality of technology use.

I don’t want to be the lumps in anyone’s oatmeal, but looking at my corner of the educational landscape, I want some teachers who can help keep my kids in school past 8th grade — I don’t give a damn if they use blogs or not.

I do understand, Scott. Truly.

My thing is the widespread conflating of effective with “next gen,” and the corresponding equation of ineffective with “old school.” I’m not seeing it; I don’t see it daily.

That’s why I quoted that sentence of yours. Your OSMT sucked because there was no rationale or intro, no guided practice, no formative assessment, and no close. He didn’t suck because there was insufficient technology usage.

Thanks for the clarification, TMAO. I reacted the way I did b/c I thought it was pretty clear that my OSMT’s flaws had nothing whatsoever to do with technology. In my attempt at fleshing out a “next-gen” math teacher, I even said:

“Engages students in a way that today’s students are accustomed to being engaged, be it with technology (Smart Board, slide deck, TI Navigator…) or an effective, interactive lecture.”

I love this discussion.

This conversation has been a gift across the board. Let alone the reminder that 4 sharpeners for $1.89 is still possible.

I wish Ben Wilkoff could have added his post — “The Ripe Environment” — to this as well, but I’ll share it here for anyone interested:

http://yongesonne.edublogs.org/2007/06/29/the-ripe-environment/

It starts with “I am tired of the tools.” I think everyone will appreciate his take on the larger implications…and the simple need to help each kid move forward.

Dan, well done for staging the conversation. Karen, “Concerned Parent”, Scott, TMAO, Jonathon, Todd, Arthus (“kid blogger!”), Ryan, Ms. Profe — truly appreciate having the chance to pick all of your brains!

Cheers, Christian

As an unrepentant English teacher, I believe that students who ‘go forth’ on their own don’t grow. I am opposed to classes taught entirely by lecture. I also oppose clases that are all about letting the students explore on their own. Someone has to present them with the material (content, methodology). It is important that the material connect them to the world, their lives, etc. in some fashion — that is part of the on-going journey taken by teachers and learners together. As with so many (all?) other educational bandwagons, one tune just isn’t enough — Use ALL of the tricks in the bag.