edcamp Archives

EdCampNYC

New York City. It has been a while. My last visit brought me to the Steinhardt School for a conference. A city that does not have the same draw to me since the passing of a dear friend.

A far cry from SOHO, Tribeca, and the late 1990s, I find myself Uptown at The School at Columbia Univerity for the inaugural EdCampNYC. Since my first (the first) EdCamp, I have had the opportunity to attend several UnConferences and have enjoyed the experience every time.

My first concern after a mind-numbing 6am trolley ride to the bus is that I would arrive in time to post a session. Despite a one miscue on Metro, I arrived in plenty of time to post a session entitled “Who Run Bartertown? What your brain thinks about you” and enjoy coffee (!) and a light breakfast snack. Breathe. We are all friends here, after all.

First session: Kathleen Cushman provided a window into the mind of students discussing her experiences and playing video and audio clips of students. They talked about what it takes to get good at something. Opinions about homework, teaching, practice, attention, interest, and motivation–things that we know but maybe did not think that kids knew, too.

Second session: Mine. Who Run Bartertown? What your brain thinks about you. Showing my age and my niche. None of the attendees knew who ‘run Bartertown.’ We talked about preconceptions that we may have about the brain and whether it matches how we approach education. We talked about brains. Our brains listened. And they laughed.

Lunch at Tom’s Restaurant. AKA Monk’s (Seinfeld). AKA Tom’s Diner (do do doo-do do do doo-do do do do do do do do do…). I had the Lumberjack: eggs (over easy, of course), pancakes, bacon, sausage, toast, coffee (!). A steal at $9 and I left full.

Third session: @DanCallahan has mastered his “Things that Suck” format and it rocked. It forces us to think and to speak. Perhaps to defend, perhaps to plea with each other. Stand together. Or alone. Perspective. Fun.

DrTimony — The Cheese stands alone. Often.

Fourth session: Mike Ritzius and Christine Miles presented a session called “We do, do YOU?” Talking about their decisions to put their talk into action and share resources with similarly minded individuals. It is already off the ground but the plans that are on the table for expansion are impressive. It also is well worth mentioning that their willingness to collaborate, take criticism and input, and adapt their current and future plans is enviable. I am just not that open-minded.

My concerns about the day were similar to those of Dan Callahan. The problem with many of these wonderful events is that those inside the building are not those who need the most help. There are teachers trapped in buildings every day who have given up on professional development. There are those who have set aside their aspirations about growth because they have seen bad administrators come and go–eaten alive by the machine or choosing to drink the Kool-Aid.

I have said it before. Educators are some of the most amazing peoples on the planet. They are resilient and wont to hear those words that inspire again. They are sensitive and responsive to the message of EdCamps.

What are the chances that they will ever hear it?

We must become evangelists of this movement. EdCamp organizers and participants need to take the necessary steps to get their events sanctioned for PD credit. Calls for proposals need to go out so that those who never would have attended will attend–EdCamp style of course–we must also educate those individuals about what it means to ‘propose‘ an idea to an EdCamp. There are events planned through the next year. Please take that next step and make this something that will draw those who need it most.

Congratulations to the EdCampNYC team for a successful event.

by the way, everyone knows. MasterBlaster run Bartertown

Unshouldering the burden

Still wrapping up my thoughts from EdCamp Philly, I wanted to make sure that I put down a few thoughts that sprung to mind while in a session with Kevin Jarrett, Mary Beth Hertz, and Rob Rowe.

Flavio Canto, Judoka and Brazilian Jiu Jitsu black belt was speaking about his techniques, teaching, competing, and his drive to compete. The magazine interview has been long lost and the exact quote has long left my mind but the essence of his remarks were something like this:

I give away my techniques to my enemies in order to force myself to become better. I want to know that I am the best with no secrets and no excuses.

When I read that interview, I remembered something that had happened to me years earlier. I was recently out of undergrad and working in a bookstore’s database department on South Street. One of my coworkers was a writer and invited me to a writers’ get together in South Philly. Being a composer and fan of creative speak, I went along to this open house.

The small home was abuzz with talk of ideas, character discussion, critiques of plots and dialogue, and in a small crowd in the middle of the living room attention turned to me. “So what do you do?” I told them that I’m a composer and started telling the group about a piano piece that I was writing. Thinking that this would be a sympathetic crowd, I shared my current problems regarding the piece. I told them that I was “writing this piece for piano and I am in love with the thematic material.” They leaned in, eager to hear about my process and I was encouraged to continue. Sure that they would understand, I confessed “I like the material so much that I haven’t finished it for fear of ruining it in my mind. It’s really great and I don’t want to destroy the purity of the theme while exploring the development.”

They looked at me like I had three heads. Three ugly heads. With “I hate writers” tattooed on my eyelids. One of them spoke, “Who do you think you are?” I stared back at him. “It’s not yours. I might need that piece and you do not have the right to keep it.” The growing crowd (really, it grew and I think that someone turned the heat on) nodded in agreement. “You need to go finish that piece,” someone said. “I can’t believe you haven’t finished it yet,” said one of the throng. A few people walked away. “How long have you been letting it sit?” someone asked. I didn’t have an answer.

This experience is fresh in my mind. I can still feel the tension. It drives me, though. I think of Flavio Canto. I think of that weird Woody Allen-esque dude in South Philly. I think about how silly I am thinking that I own any of the ideas that come out of my head.

I become protective of my research, of my classroom management strategies, my course design, and my methods of increasing achievement. We all do. We have our pets. We have things that we share when asked. We plan those moments carefully so we do not give away all of our secrets. Why?

Feeling plugged up in your classroom approach? Could it be that you are shouldering a burden that is too great to bear? Education, I am finding, is something that demands to be given away. The same way that a quality story must be read and good music demands participatory listening, education requires action–and not simply the execution of the lesson. It requires sharing, grooming, perfecting, adapting, and giving away of all that you have so that it may reach its potential–without you. Your brilliant ideas will develop and become epic without you…yes, it’s true. Someone will do it better. Be proud. Now do it again. And again.

We think that we own it. Foolish, isn’t it? We protect it like a jealous love or a protective parent. Worse is when we think that it’s not that big a deal, that’s it’s not worth sharing. Also foolish. What are your confessions?