Category: Life

Creating the need or desire to make

There’s a lot of hype around “makerspaces” at the moment – I definitely wish I’d bought shares in Lego a couple of years ago! It’s great though, our schools are responding to the need for students to work with their hands, to think differently and to learn to become content or product creators.

One thing we have to be very careful of, however, is that theses places – and what happens inside them – don’t become another separate entity, another “subject” or another thing that happens outside of “regular learning” or “the real stuff”. Know what I mean?

These spaces – and what happens inside them – need to become natural extensions of all the other types of learning that happen in our schools. All of that learning needs to create opportunities for students to make. Students need to become more and more aware of what is possible and then they need to be connected with the people, places and materials that can make those possibilities become reality.

True change happens when making becomes a mindset in the school, not a subject. If the mindset doesn’t evolve, makerspaces may end up being another fad.

 

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Ideas more important than ego

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My wife came home today and talked about how great it had been working with one of our colleagues on something. The way she talked about it really synthesized many of the things I have been wondering about recently, particularly with regard to planning, collaboration and why (or why not) people are able to do it well.

She talked about how the generation of ideas had been centre-stage and that this person had been able, so quickly and naturally, to adjust her initial ideas based on new information that led to inevitable change. Rather than be upset about it, take it personally or complain about this new information and the reasons behind it… she just adapted.

This is a great example of the ideas being much more important than the ego. This is something that is inherent in good teachers. They love to discuss ideas, to share them, to develop them, to change them, to play with them and even to return to the original ones! They know that these processes are vital as teachers struggle with the complexities and challenges of making things as purposeful as possible. They know that their part in this process is important, valuable and worthy of their time.

Most importantly, they know that the process exercises their brain, expands their thinking, keeps them fresh, challenges their intellect and helps them make connections with other people.

They know they’re learning.

Critical in all of this, also, is the understanding that we shouldn’t fear our own ideas, we shouldn’t fear “being wrong”and we shouldn’t be annoyed by the refining of our ideas by other people – that’s the exciting part! As educators, we try to guide students towards being able to exchange ideas without an adversarial approach – “I’m right… you’re wrong” – but so often get caught in that petty, dichotomous behaviour ourselves.

Take a look around you when you’re next at school. Look out for the people who…

  • just come out with their ideas without second-guessing themselves or other people’s interpretation
  • love to listen to other people’s ideas just as much as they love to say their own
  • visibly learn and grow as ideas are shared
  • refer to other people’s ideas
  • have a sense of excitement, freedom and chattiness about ideas
  • discuss ideas socially as well as professionally
  • understand that ideas are not about knowing everything
  • know that the discussion of ideas is time well spent
  • understand that ideas are not responsible for the people who thought of them!

… and let them know you appreciate them.

By contrast, but equally important, keep your eye out for the “Idea Killers”! (see the fantastic list of 16 ways people kill ideas in this posting, from which I also got the header image for my posting)

Confusing confidence with a “big ego”

 

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The word “ego” often comes up in conversations about teachers, and not in a positive sense.

We hear teachers being described as having a “big ego”. However, this is usually in reference to teachers who are confident. This confidence comes through by:

  • consistently putting ideas on the table
  • coming up with an approach and going for it
  • refusing to allow oneself to be bullied
  • projecting an image of confidence to students
  • looking confident
  • taking on the challenge of leading people
  • stepping up to deal with situations
  • consistently contributing to discussions in large groups

Sure, these can sometimes spill over into arrogance or an inflated ego, but usually only when people feel cornered, subject to critical scrutiny by colleagues or – inevitably – malicious gossip.

I think a teacher ego – in it’s negative sense – is much less visible than the things in the list above. I think a negative teacher ego manifests itself as:

  • believing one is much better at one’s job than one is
  • claiming good practice is obvious, yet not actually doing it
  • being a know-it-all
  • always referring to one’s own ideas, thoughts and practices and not those of other people
  • making it clear that other people’s perspectives matter less than one’s own, either consciously or subconsciously
  • consistently talking while other people are talking
  • finishing other people’s sentences
  • shutting people down
  • consistently judging other people’s practice and behaviour
  • believing other people are interested in one’s negative or critical thoughts
  • struggling to see anything from other people’s perspectives
  • consistently making everything about oneself
  • making one’s problems someone else’s problems

These behaviours are subtle, divisive and destructive… and particularly so because they are not usually the behaviours of people who are often described as “having a big ego”. Instead, they are often the behaviours of people who come across as insecure and, as a result, are quite hidden.

I should clarify that I’m not writing this posting because of anything that has happened to me recently… some, but not all, of my postings are autobiographical! I guess I’m writing this posting because I would like to see an increasingly sophisticated understanding of:

  • what confidence is and why it is important for young people to be taught by confident adults
  • how to avoid writing off confident people as having a “big ego” and preventing that initial observation from manifesting itself as malicious gossip
  • how to deal with the more subtle, egotistical behaviours that do more harm in our schools than any confident, or even over-confident, behaviours could ever do

 

image from https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/positive-ego-nancy-steidl-1

 

 

Leadership vs. Management

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School leadership positions require a lot of energy. In a way, people in school leadership positions are expected to operate a lot like a battery, to have an energy source of their own, to have a source of answers, to have a source of ideas, to have a source of solutions and to provide all of those things for everyone else around them at will.

Like all batteries, however, the energy eventually runs out.

One of the biggest drains on this energy are the people who consistently need managing. By managing, I mean the people who need constant persuasion to:

(a) do their job

(b) do their job properly

(c) do their job well

This management of people is particularly debilitating as it tends to be never-ending.

During his keynote speech at the IB Annual Conference a few years ago, Richard Gerver stated that he always tries to hire people who don’t need to be managed. The fact that so much energy can be conserved as a result of not having to do the three things listed above means that it can be converted into the energy of inspiration, which I see as:

(1) inspiring people to push their own boundaries

(2) inspiring people to challenge norms

(3) inspiring people to reimagine what their jobs are in the first place

Now, in most schools – as far as I am aware – there are people who don’t need to be managed and there are people who do. The ratios obviously depend on all sorts of factors, recruitment – as Richard points out – probably being Number 1. Sadly, however, the energy output involved in managing the ones who need managing leaves little left for those who don’t. Yet they have a different, but entirely equal, need to be inspired. To ignore them may be more of an omission for the well-being of the school than to ignore those who need managing.

Unfortunately, people in school leadership positions suffer from an inability to define their roles with any certainty. They are referred to as “management”, “administration” or “leadership”. Implicit in the labels of “management” or “administration” is the perceived inevitability of having to get people to do their job. As long as people in those positions see themselves that way, that is what they will end up doing with most of their time and energy. It is also what everyone they are managing expects them to do too… leading to a disturbing culture of adult “learned helplessness”. Assuming that people in those positions were formerly teachers, one must also assume that the skills that led to them being promoted came from the management of students. Yet, we must surely be moving away from an educational culture based on the management of students. So, too, we should be moving away from a culture of having to manage teachers.

“Leadership” on the other hand, has entirely different connotations. Not always good ones, admittedly! But implicit in the idea of a leader is the ability to inspire. Again, assuming people in “leadership” positions were formerly teachers, we must also assume that the skills that led to them being promoted came from the inspiration of students.

I wonder how often this is truly the case?

And, when it is the case… how long can those people last until:

(a) they just become managers

(b) they give up

(c) they leave the profession

 

Header image from techpp.com

 

 

 

If relaxation was valued in schools…

 

 

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The pursuit of “busyness” is all-encompassing, it is everywhere and we are all perpetuating and complaining about it at the same time.

I am sitting in a beautiful fisherman’s cottage in a sleepy village on the coast of Vietnam. The rain has started to pour, simultaneously cooling the air and scuppering our plans for the next couple of hours and so… we are forced to relax.

Instead of piling into a taxi and heading into Hoi An, the beautiful and bustling nearby town to do all the things we think we are supposed to do on holiday – sightseeing, shopping, having cultural experiences, dragging our children and ourselves around making the most of being on holiday – we do nothing.

Or do we? What, exactly is nothing?

This is what “nothing” looks like at this exact moment:

 

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My wife finds the time to read.

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My Mum enjoys the relaxing act of sweeping sand off the verandah.

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My children play and make up stories.

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I write.

But, why do we only allow ourselves to relax into doing these things when the rain prevents us from going somewhere else? Because we have become conditioned into “busyness” – the cult of activity and the sense of guilt or fear-of-missing-out that characterizes the modern existence.

This is true in education too. We have allowed learning to be described as “activity” and we strive to keep students busy all day and every day. We have also allowed a fear of missing out to dictate what must be learned, and when, in order to make sure everything gets “covered”. The concept of relaxation, and so – inevitably – the ability to choose to do things that only relaxation really allows, is almost entirely absent from schools.

I wonder what would happen if a school set out – with true intent – to create a sense of relaxation, to replace “busyness” and fragmentation with long periods of time during which teachers and students could relax into simple, deep and meaningful pursuits, to value what happens in those circumstances rather than panicking about what is not happening…

 

 

Header image from http://www.boundless.org/~/media/Images/article/rel-13-good-busyness.ashx

“Time and Space” – a recurring theme

Ever since Chad and I came up with the time space education concept, I am hearing people refer to the need for time and space more and more when talking about education, school and life. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to claim responsibility for this trend! I’m just concerned that the issue of having less time and less space is becoming bigger, and so the need for people to refer to it is becoming more widespread. As it says in this clip from “The Gods Must be Crazy”… we don’t know when to stop!

Students like Nikita and Kaithe, IB students at Saigon South International School, are referring to the need for people like them to have time and space, to understand their need for time and space and to be able to harness the power of having time and space to improve their learning and the balance of their lives.

Teachers – everywhere – are concerned about how fragmented, scheduled and full their daily lives and their students’ daily lives are. Everyone seems to understand that real, deep learning only happens when people are given the time and the space to engage with what they are doing fully. Yet, take a good look at any school’s schedule and you will find a grid that is dedicated to keeping everyone busy, built on the overriding concern that anyone and everyone must have their days cut into small, manageable “segments of time” that can be managed, planned and accounted for. Furthermore, they are built on the premise that learning can not and will not happen unless these grids, and other grids that dictate what must be learned and who will deliver that learning, exist.

So caught up in these grids are teachers that – even when there is no expectation from anybody to treat time and learning this way – they continue to do so. The mindset of busyness is so palpable that we can’t help ourselves as we usher kids around, interrupt them, split them up, put them back together, tell them to hurry up, tell them to slow down… We believe we are preparing them for real life, for work. But, strangely, there are almost no workplaces – except perhaps for those we believe we are not preparing our students for – that treat time in this way, that abuse time so routinely!

I guess I’m writing this because I believe that schools won’t really change for the better until they explore how time is used. Sure, we can all do funky things with funky new technology in the segments of time that we have and there’s lots of amazing teachers out there doing amazing things with their students in those segments of time. But, until we really face up to it, we will continue to ask ourselves the following questions:

  • where has the time gone?
  • why aren’t students able to go into great depth with their learning?
  • why are so many students unsure what to do when they do have free time?
  • why do we always feel like we’re behind?
  • why are our students, and ourselves, so distracted?
  • why are schools such busy places?
  • why does it feel as though nothing was really achieved some days?
  • why do we often feel dissatisfied with our teaching?
  • why are we so exhausted?

I would like to see every school faculty be given the chance to inquire into how time is used in their school – a full, professional inquiry into “busyness” during which they can pull apart the traditional moulds they put time into and think again.

The question is… how do we find or create or find the time to do give this issue the attention it deserves?

Release learning by fighting your learned instincts

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We have to remember to go against our learned instincts.

My learned instinct is to hold my children back. We’re walking along a footpath in Cheshire, in the UK, beautiful fresh stream rushing across ancient stones. Children utterly excited to be there… and they want to run ahead, and my learned instinct, my new instinct that I’ve got from life, somehow, by mistake, is to hold them back. My first response is “no… we’re not here to run”.

Well, guess what, Daddy… you’re wrong.

These kids are here to run. And there’s no reason to hold them back.

It’s a lot like learning. We’ve just got to let them go, just run. And, I’m standing here now watching them. It’s raining, they’re full of zest. They’re excited by the space, the freedom, the flowers and by the fact that they can just run.

Yes, they make a few mistakes, get stung by nettles, make their shoes filthy in mud. But they are learning, first hand, from and about the environment. They will not forget nettles. They will identify the squelchy, marshy patches of land and – maybe – avoid them next time!

I created this context – in my role as “teacher” – by bringing them to this place. I knew it was important, special and rich with opportunities to discover. But then I have to let them be free within the context, only that way will genuine questions emerge from them, and they did:

“Why is the water and the rocks orange?”

“Why are the cows lying down?”

“Where does the water come from?”

“Why is there wool on the branches of that fallen tree?”

“Who does this land belong to?”

“Why are people allowed to walk through here?”

“Where does that path go?”

“What is making that sound?”

“Who made that rope swing over the river?”

And then, of course, many attempts at holding on to the piece of wood hanging from a tree and swinging out over the water until they had all had many successful goes!

Instead of being a controlled walk, with adults determining the path and pointing out the things they thought should be of interest or worthy of learning about (i.e. the ones we had the answers to!), it becomes a child-driven walk, a haphazard route, endless questions – many unanswered – unpredicted experiences, private thoughts and moments of personal growth and self-actualization that we – the parents – are not even aware of.