My first thought after reading a) the guidebook published by the grad students at Mississippi State, b) several of the articles about technology use plans, and c) two of the existing state use plans, was d) "ugh!, this is not what I want to be doing with my life." Nevertheless, here is some of the insight I was able to glean from the articles:
It seems obvious, but if a school or institution does not have a vision for its technology use that is closely tied with the mission of the institution, then the technology use plan should probably begin with developing a vision statement. That development process should:
involve all institutional stakeholders - in a school, that would mean students, teachers, administrators, parents, and members of the local community;
be an extremely collaborative, transparent, and dynamic process;
produce a succinct and concrete statement that will maximize constituent "buy-in."
It seems equally obvious, and especially important in today's economic climate, that the parameters of the overall institutional budget are well understood. My school's yearly budget is around $12 million. If I create a technology use plan calling for an additional $500,000 expenditure, then my plan must demonstrate either a) how my school will be deriving $500,000 of value as a result, b) how student learning will be maximized, or c) how this expenditure is likely to save the school money in the long run.
Focus on a number of constantly revisited and evaluated short-term plans, rather than one comprehensive five or ten-year plan. Technology changes rapidly, so plans should be relatively simple and flexible. Very few stakeholders will be willing to put their time and effort into developing a comprehensive plan that they know will become obsolete in the medium term.
Ensure that an "evangelized core" of leaders at many, or all, institutional levels is present. These are people who are flexible and open-minded enough to see the plan through and then evaluate the plan, without becoming too territorial or defensive.
Ensure that the plan is written in user-friendly terms and that the plan involves provisions for the procurement of user-friendly technologies, applications, and development opportunities for the end-users.
Remember that it is not about the technology, it is about learning and development. The bottom line for a school is about improving student learning outcomes. The technology use plan must specifically address those outcomes. The plan cannot simply be about purchasing new, must-have gadgets.
Provide for a sensible time-line for procurement, staff development, roll-out, and steady implementation.
Plan for maintenance and for evaluation of the plan. In some of the literature I have read, these two aspects seem to be neglected and often leave end-users (teachers, in my case) feeling that they are left hanging out on a limb.
Q. Identify and discuss 3 professional development models along with any personal experience you have had with professional development.
Assuming that there are at least five general models of professional development (study teams, independent study, action-research, mentor-coach, and one-shot/ongoing training), I shall briefly explore my experience with three of these models: a) the study team approach; b) the independent study approach; and c) teacher-training approach. I will state at the outset here that I have experienced one serious limitation with my institutions' uses of the these approaches: I have never participated in any form of follow-up to determine as to whether my professional development experiences improved student learning. My schools have assumed that if I take part in some form of professional development then student learning will automatically take place. This is a precarious assumption to make.
The study team approach. The idea behind this model is that teacher professional development should be organized around teachers and administrators gathering in like-minded groups to discuss and evaluate pedagogy and elements of instructional design and assessment. This approach is not new, although it seems to me that the concept has recently been reformulated into a so-called professional learning community approach to teacher professional development. A plc is a group of like-minded individuals focused on some aspect of student learning. Plc members regularly communicate with one another and share data collected from their school or institution as a way of enhancing educational best practices. Blogs and on-line fora are wonderful ways to get a plc started. You can also use a schools intranet to organize school-wide plcs. We have organized several at my school. For example, each academic department (English, Social Studies, etc.) can create an internal forum and include all teachers, school-wide, with an interest in one or more of the academic disciplines. Our Social Studies forum includes all middle school and upper school social studies teachers, as well as lower school teachers with an interest in the social studies. This type of internal plc is a great way to connect teachers within a school or school system that would not ordinarily get an opportunity to collaborate on a regular basis. The independent study approach. The idea behind this model is the assumption that effective teachers are lifelong learners, constantly pursuing more effective ways of practicing their craft. Teachers are encouraged to pursue anything from research into a specific question to enrolling in a graduate program at a university. In theory, the teacher would discuss his/her progress with an administrator, perhaps even sharing his/her insights with fellow faculty members during a divisional or all-school faculty meeting. The end result of this experience should be the teacher and/or school preparing some sort of report on how student learning was impacted by the teacher professional development.
My experience with this independent study approach has consisted of me filling out a form requesting that my school pick up half of the tab for my graduate program. In submitting the form to my school, I was asked to provide evidence (grades) of successful completion of each class I took. After the school received such evidence, I would be reimbursed for half of the amount of the cost of the class. I also had to promise that I would remain employed at the school for a period of two years following successful completion of my class, or else agree to repay the school for the amount spent on my behalf. I decided not to sign this form, so I am paying for my independent study myself; no one at the school is discussing my progress with me.
The teacher training approach. The idea behind this approach is that teachers attend a seminar/training session/or series of training sessions designed to attend to a specific aspect of student learning. From my perspective, this approach is probably the most common form of professional development currently implemented in schools today. I have attended professional seminars, annual conferences, etc. I am a member of three professional organizations: the International Baccalaureate, or IB, the National Council for the Social Studies, and the National Middle School Association, or NMSA.
The IB is an accelerated program of study designed for students entering their 11th-grade year. IB teachers must complete three levels of training offered at IB workshops held throughout the world in order to teach their IB classes. I teach IB History of the Americas and IB Economics, and I completed my training in London and New Mexico. The workshops that the IB offers are outstanding, highly focused, and usually led by master teachers.
The NCSS and the NMSA are professional organizations for social studies teachers and middle school teachers. I have attended NCSS seminars in the past (in Los Angeles) and usually attend the NMSA annual conference (the next one is coming up in November and is being held in Atlanta). While more general in nature as compared to the IB training that I completed, the seminars and conferences hosted by both NCSS and NMSA are widely attended by teachers throughout the U.S. and can be extremely valuable for those of us looking for new ideas and perhaps a source of inspiration.
Conclusion. I have participated in a number of activities that are classed as professional development opportunities, and most of my activities fall into one of the three models that I mention above. Most of my experiences have been rewarding, and a few have, no doubt, significantly improved my instruction and my students' capacity for learning. However, I have never examined to what extent my students' learning improved as a result of my professional development. My conclusions remain a set of experiential narratives as opposed to a set of scientifically analyzed results.
She is waiting;
I can feel it.
I have traveled
For ages
Just to be here now,
And she is waiting.
I can feel it.
I am jet-blown,
Disheveled,
Walking,
Zombie-like,
Through cold airport corridors,
Sterile and impersonal,
Heading for warmth,
For comfort,
For the solace of a smile;
And she is waiting.
I can feel it.
Through locks of tousled hair
Hid beneath a fog of cigarettes
And jet-way grime,
I can see her;
Eyes penetrating,
Radiating,
Searching.
She is waiting.
I can feel it.
And then I see her
Smiling,
Hair spilling down
Over soft, warm shoulders.
We embrace.
Her arms around me,
And mine around her,
We embrace.
Warm, soft comfort.
We embrace.
We stick.
I can feel it.
I am home.
An educator’s work is never done. If one allows, an administrator can easily work around the clock. There are always schedules to tweak, students to discuss, parents to call, teachers with whom to collaborate, narratives and evaluations to script, reports to write. One of the inevitable duties of the school administrator is to handle discipline issues that are beyond the realm of the normal student-teacher relationship. Translated, this means that principals must handle the discipline situations that teachers are either unable, or unwilling, to handle. Dealing with such issues can make or break your day, and sometimes your entire week.
It’s February in London, the most heinous, sloppiest, wettest, dreariest months in the whole of the UK calendar. It’s the time of year where the shit, irrespective of school type or locale, always hits the fan. Aside from my birthday, there is nothing wholesome about February. Today, I am in my office, staring out onto forested hills, dripping wet from a morning drizzle that has stalled over London since the New Year began. The phone rings. It’s the librarian. She has just found a young, male student surfing porn in her library. This problem is obviously above her pay grade, and she needs me to come down to her library to deal with the problem.
I put down the phone, thinking, “I hope it’s not gay porn.” Having the porn-surfing conversation with anxious parents of a 6th grader is bad enough, but gay porn surfing will put me over the edge. I do not want to deal with this. I do not want to view the evidence. I do not want to have a gay porn conversation with a 6th grader, and I most certainly do not want to have a similar conversation with his parents. “Um, Mr. and Mrs. Jones, about your son…”
Then the “creepy factor” hits me. What kind of kid surfs porn in a school library? It’s so incredibly dorky and “EEEEW!” that it’s almost cool, but in a gross, disgusting way. Like Pee-Wee Herman, or the fart scene in “Blazing Saddles,” or something from Monty Python. I mean, getting caught porn-surfing in the school library! There is a certain purity here that I grudgingly admire. I shake this thought off. Thank God he didn’t get undressed.
A little later, I pop my head into the library, and I see the kid, sitting forlornly in the chair adjacent to the librarian’s desk. The library is packed with this kid’s classmates, who obviously all know what is about to transpire. As I step into the library, everything goes all slow-motion. Step… step… silence. The kid’s eyes widen and bulge. Step… step… silence. All of the other kids stop what they are doing, just waiting, waiting. Step… step.
And then the kid explodes, “I’M SORRY, I’M SORRY, I’M SOOOO SORRY!” He has gone from nervous to wildly hysterical in just under one second; impressive by any standard. Now he is standing and pulling his own hair. I can literally see tears shaking free from his face. It’s bad enough that he has been caught surfing porn in front of his peers. Now this? I really do not want to deal with this.
The librarian and I rush to the kid as the classroom teacher in the library tries to get the rest of her class refocused. The kid is sobbing, and snorting. In between the sobs and the snorts, he is blubbering, “DO MY PARENTS HAVE TO KNOW?! I DON”T WANT THEM TO SEE WHAT I WAS LOOKING AT!” The rest of the kids in class have by now, written the period off, and so has their teacher. Pathos such as this is simply too irresistible, too good to pass up. I am now center ring with a hysterical, porn-surfer and a hapless librarian who clearly cannot wait to get the hell off of the stage.
After a huge production number, I am finally able to get the kid back to my office. I get him settled down to a certain point. I examine the evidence, relieved that the evidence does not, in fact, involve homosexual pornography. It’s not even all that graphic. This kid, even at age 11, is beginning to cultivate discerning pornographic tastes. Good for him. I call the parents and I deal with the situation. We all agree to keep him out of school for a couple of days, both as a punishment and a measure of humanity. I want to let his classmates have some time to forget the spectacle in the library. I am hopeful that after a couple of days and a weekend, things will die down.
Educators are sometimes wrong, and this time, I am sadly mistaken. The father calls me a week later, extremely concerned that other kids are teasing his son, calling him names like “pervert” and “porn boy”. Dad wants this to stop. I am quietly amused. “Porn-Boy,” I am thinking, “is a fantastic nickname. Maybe “top-ten.” Give this fucking kid a couple of more years and he will be proud to have a nickname like this; legendary stuff!” But not now. Now this kid is only eleven years old, and his parents want the teasing to stop. Porn-Boy will have to wait to grow into his nickname in a few years or so. I tell the Dad that I’ll look into the situation and put a stop to the teasing.
It is Tuesday afternoon and the sky is pissing rain, just like it has been for two solid months now. I hate London weather when it gets like this. I have discovered that Porn-Boy is being teased by a group of older boys as he is getting on the bus to return home from school. So I am in the parking lot on this bloody awful afternoon, soaking wet, patrolling the legion of waiting buses out by the front of the school. Much to my dismay, there is a hole in one of my shoes. I feel like I am walking through cold mud, my frozen toes squishing in muck. I really do not want to deal with this. As the kids scamper out of the school and onto the buses, I realize that I am having a moment. It is a moment of doubt intermingled with self-pity. What am I doing here? Is this worth it? Of all the things I could be doing with my life right now, why this? I worked hard to earn a degree, and this is what I get? Is this the sum of all of my experiences? God help me.
And then it comes; a smile, and a great self-fulfilling knowledge. A blinding flash of purpose and self actualization. “Dude,” I think to myself, “you are here, saving Porn-Boy.” It is all worth it! I am saving Porn-Boy! It is heroic, no, it is super-heroic. I have purpose, and I have meaning. And that’s it! At this moment, I am a super-hero, and I am saving Porn-Boy. I stride towards the group of boys that has gathered around Porn-Boy, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I am wondering what my cape would look like.
Sarcasm can be a beautiful thing. Aside from exacting revenge upon your worst enemy, there is nothing quite so satisfying as being able to parry someone’s smart comment with devastatingly sarcastic retort. I should not enjoy sarcasm as much as I do, but being a petty male, I do. Sue me. But because I am also a teacher, I have to temper my sarcastic tendencies. Sarcasm in the classroom can contribute towards creating a carcinogenic learning environment, and so I have to be careful when I am teaching. That is not to say that sparing use of light sarcasm cannot play a role in the classroom, but like every other mode of communication, one has to know one’s audience.
Take for example an ongoing joke that I sometimes conduct with my advanced classes in economics. Students in these classes are sharp and confident. Despite their abilities, even these accelerated students slack off at times. When this happens, I tell them to “put on their bibs and helmets,” inviting them to continue to let me spoon-feed them. They laugh, and usually they pick up their academic pace. Sarcasm can work, but I have to use it sparingly; and I also have to be prepared for those times that sarcasm comes back to bite me in the ass.
It is the night before Halloween and my friend, Josh, is throwing a costume party for the school faculty. It is my first year at the school, and being October, I have yet to cultivate any deep friendships. My position as school principal can be a lonely one, and so when Josh invites me to his party, I gladly accept his invitation; and besides, I am looking for any excuse to impress the gorgeous counselor at the school. This means however, that I must attend Josh’s party in costume. To show up to a faculty costume party with only a bottle of wine for the guests would somehow be an underwhelming gesture.
The trouble is, I am going through some weird “mid-life-crisis-in-revers
e,” and I have simplified my life to the point where everything I own – aside from my bike – can fit into seven, medium-sized packing boxes. Question: what in the hell am I going to do for a costume? I could go as Springsteen as he appears on the cover of his Born in the USA album, ripped t-shirt, working boots, and jeans. But then I worry that this, too, would be an underwhelming gesture on my part, and that I would fail to impress the lovely Dana-counselor-lady. What to do?
After a couple of hours of deliberation, inspiration strikes. I have a bright red biking helmet made by the “Specialized” company, a firm that makes all sorts of outdoor equipment. The word, “SPECIALIZED,” stands out in bright, metallic silver, adorning both sides of the helmet. When I bought the damn thing, I thought that red was a very cool, very “in” color. When I wear it now, it feels like I belong in an institution, somewhere that offers comfort to the tragically un-hip. But on this balmy October afternoon, I get the bright idea of blacking out the letters, “IZ” on my “Specialized” helmet. I could then stop off at Walgreen’s on the way to Josh’s party and purchase a plastic baby bib. Dressed with a special-ed helmet and bib, I could be one of my students. The costume would be a slightly creative, but very sarcastic ensemble, and I would appear witty at Josh’s party, and all would be well. This seems like a fantastic idea.
Hours later, I show up at Josh’s party, special-ed helmet fastened tightly about my head and pink, plastic bib loosely slung about my neck. It takes the guests a couple of minutes to guess what I am dressed as, but when one of the guests figures it out, the room erupts with laughter; high-fives all around for the new, “hip” and sarcastic administrator. I even manage to gather up the courage to speak to the pretty school counselor. The evening is a stunning success.
The next morning dawns, and I am preparing for my usual Sunday bike ride. I am radiating with confidence; great evening, great morning - even the weather outside seems to be going my way. As I am on my way out the door, everything falls apart as I realize that I used a permanent marker to black out the letters on my biking helmet.
The 'Digital Divide' is a reference to the simple fact that there are those who have access to computer technology and those who do not. The digital divide has both global and national implications. On a global scale, measurements and results are used to compare the people of one nation to the people of another in terms of who does and who does not have easy access to computing technology. For example, a quick look at the CIA World Factbook tells us that 73% of Americans are classified as Internet users; 18% of of China's population are classified as such (2009). On a national scale, we might use statistics garnered from public schools to show that 83% of American school students in 2003 accessed the Internet at school; 17% of students in the U.S. were, of course, without access (Carvin 2006).
By comparison, the concept of 'Digital Inequality' is more complex. Demographers and researchers studying digital inequality certainly pore over studies concerning the technological "haves" and "have-nots", but they tend to focus more on the variations within the "haves" group. They examine the percentages of men versus women regularly accessing the Internet; the likelihood of African-American teens in urban schools regularly using computer technology to complete their assignments versus Caucasian teens in rural settings; or the preponderance of Latino families accessing the Internet at home versus Native American families.
The difference between the two concepts is important to understand. CNN correspondents or economists working in the field of development economics are far more likely to frame their research and discussions in terms of a digital divide among people living in nations with a sophisticated technological infrastructure and people living in nations that are lacking such an infrastructure. Trends within U.S. public schools show an increasing percentage of American students with regular access to the Internet at school. Close to 95% of American public school children had regular Internet access at their schools as of 2005, up sharply from a decade earlier (Internet Access in U.S. Public Schools...). For those of us interested in educational policy in the U.S., a focus on the concept of digital inequality is far more useful than a relatively simplistic focus on the issue of the digital divide.
Once defined, the concept of 'Digital Inequality' must be measured. Here, an analysis of Internet usage among all Americans can be helpful. In a 2004 review of the academic literature devoted to measuring the degree of digital inequality in the U.S., for example, DiMaggio etal. found that significant disparities exist with respect to Internet usage among: African-Americans versus non-African Americans; people of lower income levels versus people with higher income levels; people with a high school degree versus people with a college degree; as well as people between the ages of 18-25 versus people over the age of 55. The inequalities are out there.
Addressing such inequalities is perplexing task, involving a myriad of local, state, and federal officials, interested parties, and institutions. The DiMaggio etal. study found, for example, that more survey work and study is required (2004). Their findings may not set well with parents of school-age children in 2009! In the latest version of the U.S. Census Bureau's Public Education Finances, the Bureau indicates that average per-pupil expenditure for students attending public elementary and high schools was $9666 (2009). It would be easy to imagine the redirection of perhaps $250-$500 of that per-pupil expenditure towards purchasing every public school student a mini-laptop computer, for example. With every public school student in possession of laptop technology at all times during the school day, digital inequalities would be lessened. But such a proposal would require massive state-wide investment in creating and sustaining a wireless infrastructure for all public schools. Teachers and administrators would need intensive training on teaching in a 1:1 laptop environment. School budgets would swell in order to accommodate IT staffing positions and computer repair bills. So even a simple solution, such as purchasing a laptop for every public school student in the U.S., becomes a complicated endeavor.
Despite the complications, a few conclusions are apparent: a) a focus on the concept of a digital divide in the U.S. is too simplistic; b) shifting focus in the U.S. towards a model of addressing digital inequalities seems quite appropriate; c) measuring the degree of digital inequality in the U.S. will require ongoing academic study; and d) effectively addressing digital inequalities will require the coordinated efforts of officials, institutions, and other interested parties (including private corporations) at all levels within the U.S. educational system. The task of appropriately addressing digital inequalities will not be an easy one.
References
CIA World Factbook. (2009). Country Comparisons:: Internet Users. CIA World Factbook. Retrieved (2009, September 12) from https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/rankorder/2153rank.html.
Carvin, Andy (2006). New Govt Report Exposes the School-Home Digital Divide. PBS Teachers: learning.now, Retrieved (2009, September 12) from http://www.pbs.org/teachers/learning.now/2006/09/new_report_exposes_the_schoolh.htm.
DiMaggio, P., Hargittai, E., Celeste, C., & Shafer, S. (2004). From unequal access to differentiated use: A literature review and agenda for research on digital inequality. Social Inequality, 355-400. Retrieved (2009, September 12) from http://www.eszter.com/research/pubs/dimaggio-etal-digitalinequality.pdf.
During the mass in the Roman Catholic Church, there are three readings from scripture, at least this is what I recall. I must confess - pun intended - that I have not been inside of any church for well over a decade, and I am certain that if I do venture into a church, the unfortunate parishioners would see crosses falling as swarms of locusts and frogs inundate their poor heavenly venue. You just cannot take the Lord's name in vain as many times as I have in the past ten years and expect to avoid being visited by a few of the seven plagues. In any event, there are three readings from scripture during the Catholic mass, and two of the three readings are performed by loyal parishioners, while the last reading, and usually the most poignant, is performed by the priest. When their time has come in the course of the service, the lay readers solemnly climb the altar, stepping slowly to the lectern, and then they recite their lines from the Bible with all the vim and vigor that you would expect from an afternoon reading in the geriatric ward of a hospital. After the readings are finished, the service continues on through the blessing of the sacraments until it reaches a crescendo as the priest bestows the sacraments to the members of his parish. Grace thus obtained, the parishioners then go on their merry ways, drinking and sinning for remainder of the week, until Sunday dawns anew, and the entire process starts afresh. This is, at least, what I can recall.
It is Sunday morning and it is entirely too early for me to be up. In fact, I only just went to bed a couple of hours ago. I am eighteen, and I have candles that I am blow-torching at both ends. I shall sleep when I am dead, and for now, sleep is simply a minor annoyance that occurs between nights out with friends. Last night was just such a night. I spent it exactly as Father Patterson warned me not to spend it - drinking and carousing. I do not drink much (yet), but I love to carouse; in fact, I am a first rate carouser, much to Father P's dismay. Last night's carousing was especially fine, but now I am paying the price. It is 8 a.m. on Sunday morning and I have arisen with a throbbing headache, and my mouth tasting like the insides of my old Chuck Taylors. My brothers and I, however, come from good Catholic stock and like most Catholics of our age, we have a drug problem; that is to say that on every Sunday, hungover or not, we are drug off to mass. This morning's mass is duly critical as my father Larry has recently become a lay reader and is reading from the scripture. So with obligatory grunts and groans ringing in my parents' ears, we are off to mass on this warm summer morning.
The church is stiflingly hot this morning. The five ceiling fans that adorn the chapel are whirring mightily, but at sixty feet up, they are butterflies flapping in a hurricane. I am fidgeting, red-faced and sweating, while my brothers, each on either side of me, are elbowing me in the ribs. They know they have me on the ropes this morning, and they know, too, that as the oldest of the three, I probably won't elbow back, not until I get them back home. I have resigned myself to fidget and shoot them dirty looks. I am also shooting equally dirty looks at the damn pathetic ceiling fans, inwardly grumbling about the relative utility of bulls possessing tits.
After an excruciating 20 minutes or so, it is Larry's turn to read. He stands up, full of pride and solemnity. Nearing 50 years of age, he cuts a fine figure of a man in his prime, resplendent in a beige leisure suit. His dark hair, greying at the temples, is pressed just so, and he reminds me of Starsky, or Hutch, I can't remember which this morning; whichever one had dark hair. He makes his way slowly, up the altar and then to the lectern, pausing for dramatic effect. He clears his throat with a soft "ahem" (not to be confused with "amen"), and he begins to read his passage from the gospel of St. Luke. His voice is warm and rich, his reading commanding attention. I can hear pins dropping as he pauses between each verse.
There is a funny thing about the particularly version of the Bible we are using that year, especially this particular passage from St. Luke's gospel. Although the version is highly readable and has been refined so as to be extremely relevant, the redactors have included a few tongue-twisters, and Larry is confidently approaching one particularly tricky passage. The line reads, "... and he shall sit at the right hand of the Lord." The human mouth is capable of uttering a myriad of sounds, and although no one has been able to chart the breadth of just how many sounds we can summon, there is something rather difficult about correctly pronouncing a word that begins with "sh" followed directly by a word that begins simply with an "s". Larry was to have read about an exalted man beaming as he is sitting at God's right hand, but instead, Larry's bloke defecated. After reading the verse, Larry pauses... and I can hear a pin, or perhaps a small turd, drop.
I am suddenly fighting not against my jostling brothers, but against an avalanche of laughter suppressed. I cannot get the image of a man in a white robe, beaming and squatting, out of my head. I imagine Larry is continuing on with his reading, but I am in the midst of a titanic battle against the forces of Satan and their demonic sense of humor, and I am losing. I am going to burn in hell, I know it, but this is funny as shit. Larry finishes and walks ever so quickly back to the church pew. All is quiet. As he sits at my mother's right hand, I lose my heavenly battle, letting loose with a squelched laugh which rattles the roof of my mouth and echoes throughout the church. My brothers follow suit.
Afterward, I recall only this: my mother and father sitting tensely next to three teenage boys, shoulders shaking, fighting in vain against violent surges of demonic laughter. We gave church a miss the next week.
