On My Gram, 1924-2013

In the spring of my senior year, I decided to play hookie from study hall and go eat brunch with my friends.  I stopped home for some cash and froze when my grandmother emerged from her bedroom.  Caught, I began mumbling some lie, but she was not hearing it.  Instead, she announced that she was off to Georgia to visit her brother Jimmy and promptly scurried out the door, seeming afraid that I would do something to stop her if she waited long enough to hear my response.  I’m pretty sure she did not go to Georgia, but I have no idea where she actually went.

My grandmother loved adventures.  She liked to be in motion, but she was a peculiar traveler.  She didn’t particularly like being in unfamiliar places.  Most of her trips ended in a family member’s living room drinking hot water (because, she said, tea made her joints ache).  Also, for such a seasoned traveler, she was terrible at packing.  She used three or four pocketbooks in rotation, and what she needed was rarely in the pocketbook she had brought.  Once, when she was beginning to lose her memory, she arrived at my aunt’s house with an oversized suitcase that contained some chocolate, a few knickknacks and a pair of sunglasses.  We probably should have checked it when we saw her carrying it out of the assisted living center by herself.

Gram never kept any record of her trips.  Unlike my other grandparents, who documented every vacation in a well-labeled photo album, I don’t believe my grandmother owned a camera.  And she never bored anyone with stories of her travels or the sights.  In fact, she preferred if no one knew precisely where she had been or for how long.

She did plan her trips, but these plans had little to no relationship to the trips themselves.  Return dates were “more honored in the breach,” and agreements to come visit you were more like possibilities.  At a family funeral, my whispering aunts and uncles discovered she had agreed to visit three of them at once in the upcoming weeks.

Near the end of her preaching days, my cousin Remle and I cringed as we heard her confidently deliver a sermon clearly patched together out of favorite pieces of old sermons we’d heard before, with no regard for transitions.  She wasn’t losing it yet, just brash enough to do this. I remember most of the sermon.  It was about Bilbo Baggins, who needed the courage to go on trips.  Then there was a part about calendars, a part about Snoopy and a part from Wind in the Willows.  But she closed on leave-taking again.  She said Moses had not wanted to leave but God told him it was time; he had to move on.  I don’t remember that part of the Bible, but it was a stirring end, which is what Gram would have wanted.

The parishioners, as usual, were too charmed to care and seemed truly taken in by her spell.  Of course, it wasn’t her church and the next day she’d be off again.  But you’re not leaving like Bilbo did, I thought, or Moses.  No, Gram, you’re Huck.  “But I reckon I got to light out for the territory ahead of the rest, because Aunt Sally she’s going to adopt or sivilize me, and I can’t stand it.  I been there before.”  

A Response to David Denby's Profile of Diane Ravitch

            A friend asked for my reaction to the recent New Yorker profile on Diane Ravitch.  In a sentence, my reaction is, Diane Ravitch is one of the most sensible people working in ed policy today and people should listen to her.  There are a lot of reasons that people spend more time poking and undermining Ravitch than debating her on her actual points, mostly having to do with her evolving views and corresponding shifts in allegiance.  Denby’s article seems to try to simultaneously tell the story of this intellectual journey and provide clarity about the important debates in ed policy.  I think Denby had good intentions (he titled the piece “Public Defender”), and I am glad more people will learn about Ravitch’s clear-headed crusade.  However, many of the attacks on Ravitch are politically motivated and because the article does an inadequate job teasing out the ideological and political strands of these debates, it is likely to confuse many people. 

            The most oft-cited critique of Ravitch is her “flip-flopping.”  I find this criticism stupid and dangerous.  The challenge of educating the public in a democracy HAS NEVER BEEN MET SUCCESSFULLY.  If you were trying to build a self-propelled car and over a century had never succeeded, why in God’s name would you choose to support those thinkers who wanted to keep trying the same idea?  My support would be behind those people who still felt passionately about reaching the goal, and were willing to admit defeat when an idea did not work.  The goal, as I see it, is to continue to increase the likelihood that any child born anywhere in this country can become an independent-minded critical thinker who approaches the world with a useful skill set and a sense of efficacy about their lives.  Ravitch has believed in this vision of education throughout her career and her critiques of the reform movement’s ability to get there are cogent.  In the words of Abraham Lincoln, “I do not think much a man who is not wiser today than he was yesterday.”  The inability of collective political consciousness to accept that smart people change their mind may be inevitable, but there is no reason that Denby needs to add to this collective failure in thinking with phrases such as: “Yet irony abounded in what she said.  Less than a decade ago, she was one of the ‘they’ she denounced in her speech.”  David Denby, I used to like clam chowder and now I don’t.  When I refuse clam chowder these days, that is not irony, and neither is Ravitch’s speech to the AFT.

            While I believe Ravitch has been upfront about the reasons for her changing behaviors, the reform movement has been much less willing to explore and critique its own ties to privatization.  I believe that most reformers have good intentions, and even that many of them do not see their movement as opening the door of public education to private companies.  Nevertheless, they are.  For just one example, read this letter from top Michigan educators about federal money being awarded to the nefarious EAA in their state.  Denby gives voice to Ravitch’s denial that education is at the historical nadir that reformers insist on, but seems to undermine her point about privatization.  Near the beginning of the article, he writes that Ravitch is “barnstorming” the reform movement “which she calls a ‘privitization’ movement.”   It’s not an egregious misreprentation, but by omitting any evidence supporting this quite reasonable view, Denby’s article seems more eager to characterize Ravitch as a firebrand than an important voice in this crucial debate. 

            But maybe I protest too much.  It’s true that Ravitch has always liked to be out on one limb or another, and her enthusiasm for the union is a bit discomforting given the real problem with “dead weight” in our teaching corps.  And here I think Ravitch’s political manuveuring sets her up for caricaturist portrayals.  Again, however, I sense that she has a more laudable keel than the Rhees and the Kleins.  Assuming, as I do, that Ravitch’s goal for education is that talented, experienced educators hold the helm, the union is a necessary liability.  Too many times, politicians have turned to quick fixes that move the control panels of instruction further and further from the hands of the only qualified technicians, experienced teachers.  While I am often embarrassed by the teachers in my union (e.g. squawking over coming in a day before students arrived back from Sandy, etc.), if I have to choose I’m going to give teachers and not private industry a seat at the decision-making table.  If Denby wanted to talk about irony, he could have chosen “parent-trigger” initiatives that give parents the “power” to give control of the schools to private companies, thereby further disenfranchising themselves. 

            Aside from privatization, Ravitch’s other major critique of the reform movement is its insistence on standardized tests for evaluating students and Value-Added Measures for evaluating teachers.  Here is where it might have been better for the New Yorker to assign an education journalist to this story.  Among educators, there is a robust conversation happening about the ways in which we might assess students outside of standardized tests.  Here in New York City, Shael Polokow-Suransky has spearheaded a very exciting new assessment system that fairly quantifies a student’s ability based on “performance-based” projects such as researched essays.  When assessments are skill-based and embedded in a rich curriculum, the distinction between “teaching” and “testing” begins to fade.  A student learns as they are assessed.  This new model of gauging the success of our schools is already off to a promising start and if it can gain traction I believe it will completely reframe the testing/teaching debate.  Of course, it will require experienced educators to succeed, and so we need policies whose goal is to keep our most talented teachers in control of curriculum.    

            My final critique of the article is Denby’s very misleading treatment of the Common Core.  He writes, “The standards, … require that all students read, for example, ‘Macbeth,’ and ‘The Grapes of Wrath’ by the end of tenth grade…”  This is a dangerous mischaracterization.  First of all, teachers are not mandated to teach specific texts.  The purpose of the suggested texts is to maintain rigor for all students, but any good teacher would scaffold or build to this goal and not just drop Steinbeck’s tome on a fourteen-year-old’s desk as the quote seems to suggest.  Secondly, the Common Core standards are most notable for requiring ELA teachers to include more nonfiction.  This quote seems designed to ruffle the feathers of those who think education should provide “useful information,” i.e. not fiction, and that change is well underway thanks to the Common Core.  Lastly, Denby does not mention the CCSS as they relate to the union but it’s worth noting that the unions are not by and large opposed to the standards.  On his blog Eduwonk, Andrew Rotherham writes, The past few weeks I’ve heard on numerous occasions about the teachers unions ‘opposition’ to Common Core as if it’s just an obvious fact.  I’m not sure where this is coming from, but overall they’re not opposed, they’re on board with the new standards and in some places/ways trying to help on the implementation…”  The challenge of how to effectively implement the new standards and how they will impact the system is complicated and very interesting, but Denby’s one throwaway comment about the CCSS is misleading and offers no context for this significant aspect of the conversation.

Using Serious Gaming Techniques for Long-Form Writing: A Thought Experiment

In my last post, I enumerated several advantages for serious gaming in the classroom.  I like the ways that serious gaming taps into the social and competitive instincts of students, and I‘m excited about the rich data that can be mined from a well-designed serious game.

I get stuck, however, when I try to think about how to capitalize on these benefits as a writing teacher.  Here is my best idea (so far) for how to set up an online game that would maintain the standards I expect in my students’ writing, but take advantage of the perks of serious gaming.  WARNING:  This does not cut down on teacher grading, but that is not the point.

THE GAME: 

Students are in charge of a real online blog, and choose the topics they would like to cover.  Every student chooses a professional handle to protect anonymity.  Each news cycle, students are grouped into three or four groups, and given a writing assignment aligned to their ability levels.  Two students in each group are assigned as editors.

Students write a piece, using a clear rubric to guide them.  Tasks maybe informative, argumentative, investigative or creative.  Then, after a mini-lesson on a particular writing skill, they edit their piece.  While they are writing, editors should be learning proof-reading skills and practicing on sample texts.   Again, these lessons are geared toward a certain targeted skill. After students finish, the editors need to submit their edits, which are graded.  Students then have a second chance to revise their pieces.  The editors choose one piece to run “above the fold.”

At this point, the teacher grades the pieces and assesses the editors’ edits.  Any piece receiving above a certain grade is published, although the editor’s picks get special attention.  Students who fail to reach this grade must revise, and if they meet the grade subsequently, their piece is also published.  An important aspect of gaming is the ability to immediately address failure.

The cycle begins again.

AUTHENTIC ASSESSMENT:  At certain points throughout the year, after students are familiar with this process, the students should use the process for even more authentic assignments.  For example, a local non-profit might ask for a piece to be published on their page, or the school may use the students’ writing in a brochure for parents.

TROUBLESHOOTING:  Of course, a kid may drop to the bottom of the proverbial pond here, and wallow in the weeds.  In that case, I would give that student an individual assignment that needed to go to press and could not go until he or she had got it to a certain standard.  Repeat until the student is properly engaged.

Any programmers out there want to design this?  Does it already exist?  Beyond a blog, I need an interface where students see their progress and receive immediate feedback.

Serious Games in Education

             Let me start with this: the best educational environment I ever experienced was outdoors.  Four friends and I once started a kingdom on a half-acre beside a stream.  Each of the citizens had a political position and an economic enterprise.  There were four shops in town: Spears for Sale, Sword Fighting Gym, Dance Studio, and my own venture, Advice Hut.  We quickly realized we needed a better balance between concrete and abstract industries and turned cooperatively toward making houses.  I remember an entire day spent reconstructing and repairing roofs until they could withstand our rain test (a Mason jar of stream water poured over the roof).  My nostalgia for this type of self-guided exploration into basic human challenges has made me a latecomer to the world of virtual efforts in education, but here’s the thing:  that project was so engaging because it was a game.

            Serious gaming is a pretty quiet idea at the moment, and it’s easy to see why educators are wary of embracing games wholeheartedly.  Designing a truly educational game is very difficult, and misguided attempts are legion.  Consider Bronchie the Brontosaurus, who needs to save a city from dust while protecting his own health by answering questions about asthma.  This, and so many other games, show that adding a fun character and absurd plotline to regular old multiple-choice questions is an expensive waste of everyone’s time.

            But, the Wright brother’s first airplane did not fly either.  These beta-duds should not cloud a very exciting vision of games in the classroom.  According to Jane McGonical, the same students who may feel that they are “not good at life” are going home to solve complex tasks when playing World of Warcraft. She says in her 2010 TED Talk, “I believe when we’re in game world we become the best versions of ourselves: the most likely to help at a moment’s notice, the most likely to stick with a problem as long as it takes, to get up after failure and try again.”  Each of these points would change the culture of our classrooms for the better.

            Firstly, our students should be transparently competing and cooperating with one another because this is how we develop personal potential.  To achieve what he did, Julius Caesar needed to ally himself with Pompey and also to undo Pompey.  As a teacher in a large school, my likelihood of being promoted instead of other teachers depends on my ability to collaborate with those very teachers.  The same tension exists in a multiplayer game. For example, in Civ IV your country’s safety depends on your finesse at foreign policy, which is a balancing act of flattery and intimidation.  As students create a record of success or failure, they should be able to see their performance compared to some of their peers.  An authentically competitive and social environment spurs our brain into action, and there is no reason to be scared of this.  With strategic grouping and a reasonable regard for everyone’s feelings, making games social will tap into a natural human desire to compete and develop personal strengths, and teach students that to succeed in a competitive environment requires the ability to collaborate strategically.

            Secondly, games inspire a level of resilience and determination that the traditional classroom so often enervates.  Every teacher knows a student’s typical reaction to failure and works hard to create multiple systems designed to fight discouragement.  The simple fact that games let you try again immediately after receiving feedback changes the culture of the classroom and requires much less effort on the part of the teacher.  Games create a failure-based model of learning; students learn by immediately addressing the sources of their own failure, something very difficult to achieve when trials of tasks are separated by even 24 hours.

            Furthermore, games inspire interest in topics currently removed from a teenager's daily life.  There is a strong strain of pedagogical thinking that puts the student's interest at the center of the curriculum, but there are serious limitations to this approach: namely, it is not an efficient way to expand the student's often quite provincial picture of the world.  Games create a reason to care about problems outside of a student's experience.  Once a student in invested in a context, they are more interested in learning facts that will help them master that environment.  When I began to read the debates surrounding Brooklyn’s new basketball stadium, my mind cast back to decisions I had made as a twelve-year-old about whether to build a new stadium while playing SimCity.  While SimCity 1994 was probably a grossly underdeveloped system by today’s standards, I understood some basics:  stadiums are costly up front, but bring new energy to the city.  By being given the chance to think like Bloomberg, I developed the critical skills of an informed citizen.  For this reason, the problems introduced through games should introduce students to the world’s biggest, most important problems.  McGonical says, “Gamers are willing to work hard if they are given the right work…Gamers love to be attached to awe-inspiring missions, to human, planetary scale stories.”  Games about nuclear escalation, global warming vs. international development, or big-scale financial struggles can all provide a contextual backdrop that creates urgency and can facilitate further learning.

            And now, my favorite argument for games in the classroom.  Data bonanza!  We have the ability to track every decision, written response, and answered question a student makes while playing a game.  Imagine a game in which a student needed to balance the needs of elephant and human populations in an African village.  They were required to explore the physical landscape as a scientist, observing and testing hypotheses, and also interview residents and experts.  At the end, they needed to construct written solutions using the evidence that had found.  If each successive task is tracked, I can see where each student excelled or failed, and also look at my class in aggregate:  where did most students’ understanding break down?  I can adjust the complexity level of texts in the game and determine a student’s reading level.  I can also sort the tasks by standard and gauge which standards I need to focus on in my lessons.  Games can group without moving the desks.  Once skill levels are established, World of Warcraft matches your mission with similarly skilled players[1]; new games could use the same strategy in the classroom.  Finally, I am building an electronic portfolio of student work.  I do not leave my classroom with a foot-high stack of papers, one of which will inevitably be misplaced, and which will require hours of data entry in order to become a flexible resource.  Instead, I walk out with a single portable file full of qualitative and quantitative data that I can sort through online or at home as I plan my next lesson.

            Of course, we should not get carried away.  Compared to nature, man-made virtual contexts will always be limited in scope.  Regardless of how realistic a virtual environment becomes, there is always a point where our own brain limns the inner logic of this constructed world, and good gamers take advantage of this knowledge.  One friend I have has discovered that in the world of Civ IV, as long as his military power is even marginally above the computer players, he will never be attacked.  But here too is a learning opportunity.  Anytime a game is used in a classroom, students should be expected to critique the logic of the game.  Where did the game mirror their understanding of the world?  Where did it create an artificial and misleading logical system?  Is it true, for example, that a strong military always prevents attacks?  These meta-conversations require high-level critical thinking, and happen quite naturally as students become frustrated or master a good game.

            To be sure, there are dangers to over-gaming, and we don’t want to raise a generation of computer addicts.  At some point, students should take their eyes off the monitor and begin to engage with the messier real world.  Indeed, if I could take all my students on backcountry camping trips, I would.  As someone originally inspired by genuine problem-solving challenges such as community organizing and growing a garden, I strongly believe that technology should never determine our goals.  But, the benefits of serious games in the classroom address goals we already have as teachers.  Ever since Dewey, we have been trying to create authentic buy-in by immersing students in realistic contexts instead of teaching them disembodied facts. Everyone now recognizes that data is integral to instructional planning, and schools and teachers are expected to collect and use lots of it.  While we should be careful not to put the carriage before the horse, we should not turn down an opportunity to drive our carriage much, much faster.

Recommended Link on Games and Education:  

NYTimes Video on the Potential to Make Gaming the Core of a MS Curriculuum

Jane McGonical's TED Talk Page

Using Games to Teach Students Financial Literacy

 Next Post:  Could gaming be used to teach long-form writing?  How might we create a virtual world that created an urgent desire in students to improve writing strategies and rhetoric, and truly revise their own writing?

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[1] http://www.ted.com/talks/jane_mcgonigal_gaming_can_make_a_better_world.html