KNOWLEDGE is POWER. There. I said it.

KNOWLEDGE get a bad rap. In this information age, the assumption is that knowledge is readily accessible, reliable, and palatable. It is crucial that we embrace the fact that accessible knowledge and usable knowledge are not the same. Not even close. I am not big on analogies, but the difference between having access to knowledge and knowing something is like the difference between having access to water and having plumbing. Big difference.

We must separate opportunity from action. Availability is an opportunity to know. Action is required for knowledge to be usable. And guess what? It takes effort.

When we were in grade school, the people in charge required us to memorize and regurgitate. Remember that? They could require it of us. They could judge us based on our efforts and the quality of our outputs. We did not like having to give attention to things that did not interest us, devoting strategic resources to the remembering of basic knowledge. We could have just looked it up. In the end, what did we learn? Recognizing that the taskmaster is in some role of power does not mean that the tasks are meaningless and serve no purpose.

A lot, actually. And we need to admit that. We learned more than just the information.
We learned methods of getting information into our minds permanently (we can debate the quality and permanence of memory another time). Our brains participated in necessary operations to prepare itself for future (more important and potentially relevant) activity. Sometimes (all the time), we ought to stop and consider the unknown influence of learning activities as we critique the explicitly applicable practice that is being logged in the process. We ought to get over the popular practice of power examination in learning situations and just do the work. Sometimes.

Attention — Do I have your attention?

Strategies — What is your strategy for traversing the chasm to memory?

Retrieval — What is your method to activate retrieval structures?

Here is our 21st Century problem: We do not know things anymore.

If you have been in a room with someone who really owns their knowledge, there is something wonderful that happens. They have an ability to develop their thinking around that information in deep and meaningful ways. This is because the information is not taking up real estate in their present memory where lots of free and open abstracting likes to happen but in their permanent memory. How many times have you listened to someone who really KNEW their stuff and found yourself saying–I’ve really got to get X content down so I can really Y my tail off like that person?

Imagine you are having a party with several guests and for dinner you have chosen to have each person make their own pizza. You, as host, will provide every sort of sauce and topping and your guests need to bring the dough that they intend to use. Each guest arrives and sits around the dinner table with their own little crust ready to load their crusts with all kinds of veggies, cheeses, sauces, and the like. And then I show up.

Oh, I did not really read the invitation. Was I supposed to bring a crust? I thought we were going to make crust. I can do it really quick…do you have…? The next thing you know, my 12-15 inch space on your table is not being occupied by a crust but by the ingredients for that crust. It is not quite what you had in mind is it? I have everything I need to make the crust but it is taking up space, disrupting the activity, and my participation–regardless of the gracious kindness of the host–has been altered. I likely missed much of the intent because I showed up without.

Let us decide to know. Something. Well. Now.

RESIST!

In the waning hours of my 40th birthday I am compelled to add a few words. I am not in search of congratulations or affections. It is a milestone that each will likely visit in their lives and I found myself–probably like many do–considering what I should do to commemorate my “accomplishment” of breathing for 14,600 consecutive days.

Lordy, Lordy, Look Who’s Forty

Tattoos–Diets–Exercising of Inalienable rights

How will I mark this occasion? What will change when I wake tomorrow? What will be different? And…why do I write about this?

The final question is my concern and it is framed in educational practice.
Folks, if I have ever had a mantra this may be it. Please do not turn everyday occurrences and typical occasions into reasons for myth, mystique, and superstition. There is no need to spend a day celebrating bad habits because they will change tomorrow–we do not require Fat Tuesday before we execute a cease and desist on poor practice.

Every day, every course, every class is an opportunity to change our practice. It is an opportunity to adapt and to create. There is no event that need be burdened with the decision to master content or to better prepare for the type of course our students deserve.

I would like to think that a change that I make tomorrow will not shock or amaze. I hope that no person says “it’s about time” in regard to something I may adapt next week. Growth tomorrow, I hope, will not be seen as THE DAY I changed but as another change that happened as they often do.

I write this as an encouragement, confession, and challenge. I have not arrived. We have not arrived. The best change we can make is the next one. Let us make them together and encourage one another to be critical of our practice, hopeful of our influence, creative in our approaches, and gracious in our interactions. There is so much to learn.

The Ugly American

Ugly. The ugly American. Heard of it? It has been some time since the read and even longer since I have heard a reference to it but I find myself using it more and more. Why? Simple. The novel gives us a meme for its time and it sends a lasting message.

The Ugly American expects everyone to act and everywhere to be just like everything he knows.

Think about it. The stranger in a strange land. Not Heinlein or Iron Maiden. Not the Alien.

but close.

What's that you have there, pal?

The teacher, like the student, brings to the classroom every experience they have ever had. And let us be honest, it is much easier to force those in your care into shining metal boxes. So much easier to push, file, stamp, index, brief, debrief, or number than to plan, listen, adapt, rewrite, prepare, adjust, learn, flex, redirect, and so on.

It is important that we acknowledge who we are and what we bring to the situation so we may set it aside and teach from a more neutral space. Not everything that we teach requires connection to our own lives. It does not need to be shown through our lens nor does it require a frame in order for appreciation to occur. Surely, our desire to explain and expound–to mediate through language–often reduces experiences.

I am reminded of my time standing for hours at the edge of the Grand Canyon. In my life to that date, I had never witnessed so much nature and expansive views at one time and decided to spend my afternoon in one spot to take it in rather than to keep moving with a group who had ventured down into the canyon itself. For one rare moment I was without words as every descriptive I could access seemed inadequate. A gentleman walked up beside me. He sighed. His arms folded and unfolded. His limp hands slapped against his thighs as he let them drop. He looked directly at me for a minute or more before he said, “Isn’t it just neat?”

Sigh.

Assessment Pt. 1: You’re doing it wrong

The human mind is in a constant state of assessment. While most of it is autonomic as an efficient process running under the surface, it is happening. Multiple redundant processes. In the spring of 2006 I was diagnosed with a rare condition that required the repair of a hole in the superior canal of my left ear. By repair, I mean the destruction of that vestibular canal. The surgery was successful and left me short a canal.

Through the diagnostic process I was reminded that my balance was not simply a matter of muscle and nerves. When my dehiscent canal went awry, my eyes jumped about in my head correcting and searching for equilibrium. Level. My faulty canal, in the presence of certain stimuli, caused my brain to think that I was falling. My eyes jumped and my muscles jerked in an effort to ‘catch’ me though there was no problem at all. A faulty check engine light.

Like I need a hole in the head

A bad sensor. Vertigo is an understatement. Post surgery, I was told that there were planes upon which I may not ever be able to move my head without losing my balance. I was told that I may have permanent balance problems but it was likely that my systems would accommodate this deficit. The surgery was on a Friday morning. Early. I was walking out of Johns Hopkins University Hospital on Sunday after lunch. With some assistance and a new set of staples. I am grateful for the work of Lloyd B. Minor and John Carey. I am grateful for my redundant systems. Side effects: 0, Timony: 1.

Constantly discriminating countless data. Assessing. Angle, pressure, distance, speed. Obstacles, terrain, light, wind. Regulating distractions, deciding on what gains attention, what is worth a second look or even a note. A picture. Email. Where is my phone? or other external memory device?

Assessment, judgment, decision making. An automatic, natural, and necessary component of our lives.

cut to: The Classroom. Our natural habitat

We teach. We listen. We observe. We discuss. We answer questions and pose questions. We demonstrate. This interaction happens all the time, right? Our students know the material. We are happy with that.

Until we administer an assessment and some perform poorly.
If I hear it again, I might scream:
“They know the material but they cannot pass the test”

One of these statements is incorrect. Educators must realize that their estimations of student skills are often as valid and reliable–maybe more. Definitely more meaningful. They have a place at the table alongside other assessment options and help to create a more realistic picture of student achievement and student needs. We need to move away from popular phrases like “tests well” and get to the bottom of things. Decide for yourself how you define knowledge, competence, and achievement. Make sure that your assessment strategies reflect that. As the field of educational research moves towards meaning beyond mere significance, the measure of a student should, too, move towards meaning.

Our approach should be data informed but our students should never data defined.

If a students knows the material, that student’s grade should reflect that they know the material. If that student cannot express it in the context of an exam, that is another issue that should probably be addressed. Addressed because it will cause commotion with less insightful educators and/or it may be a sign of a more persistent need.

Stay tuned for Part IV: What do you use to fix the tools?