A flashback to Dr. Pajares

While I have been blessed with a small hand full of mentors in my life – true, committed mentors…not the trite use of the word for occasional acts of mentorship – Dr. Frank Pajares stands out for me. Among countless reasons, Dr. P stands out because of a conversation that we had in his office one day. After two hours of conversing, I looked at my Timex Ironman watch, and I apologized for keeping him so long. He closed his book, which we were referencing, and he looked over the top edge of his glasses. Then, he said, “The greatest gift you can ever give me is to ignore your watch when we are working together. I am not thinking about the time; I would encourage you not to think about the time. Us working and learning together is what’s important.”

I tend to be a very task-oriented person. I care deeply for people, but I sometimes give off a different vibe because I do like to check things off a list. Dr. P further changed my paradigm about task completion that day, which was over ten years ago as I was completing graduate school. (I fall short of Dr. P’s ideal all the time, but I am working on it.)

Today, Dr. P flashed into my mind when I was talking to a colleague with whom I work at Westminster. We’ll call him B. At this time of year, I have a million things on the task list. To name just a few, I am working on new faculty orientation details, faculty recognition citations, Apple roll out issues, etc. Truly, though, I did not think about any of those things while I was meeting with B. He had some important things to discuss, and we sit down together about once every month or two months to discuss some questions we have about education, school structure, etc. After about 80 minutes of talking, he was getting up to go, and he apologized for taking so much time.

Dr. P flashed through my mind. Something he shared with me years ago has helped shape me a bit better, and now I could genuinely say that all those tasks were inconsequential to me compared to the conversation I was having with B. I was thinking, learning, questioning, considering. Who knows how that thinking might come back to benefit later when engaged with an issue or challenge. During the conversation with B, we talked through several scenarios; the time was infinitely worthwhile. I bet, in the long-run, the conversation proves to be a time saver, instead of a time waster – because I was able to rehearse some thinking with a great thinker before I needed the thinking “in battle.”

During the conversation, though, B made a remark that he is still having to justify to people that time on Twitter or blogging is not a time waster, but rather a time saver. The thought occurred to me that I bet those people would not claim that this face-to-face conversation was a time waster…in general, that time spent with another human in conversation is what we should be doing, for instance, instead of tweeting and blogging so much.

But, then, a George Couros adage came to mind – there are people at the other end of those screens and keyboards. We are connecting when we employ those tools. In fact, B and I were able to have the depth of conversation that we were having, at least in part, because we “talk” regularly by following each other’s tweets and blog posts. Moreover, We remarked that by tweeting and blogging, we are able to maintain many streams of conversation and learning that can keep us connected and thinking on a number of exciting and invigorating fronts in education and schooling.

I don’t regret any time I tweet, blog, or connect with my colleagues on social media tools. By doing so, we are thinking and learning and reflecting together. I also don’t regret any of that face to face time spent in personal dialogue. BOTH are important. BOTH are “time savers” in the long run. And, even if they aren’t, they are “life savers,” as they broaden and deepen my network of connected learners…my tribe.

Dr. P died a few years ago, but I like to think that this story would make him proud. I still learn from him everyday. He was THE master of contextual thought and deed, and I think the context in which we connect to think and learn together would excite him – as long as we valued the relationships built by those connections…and ignored our watches. Thanks, Dr. P. Love you.

Different Ways of Knowing

Almost everyday, I watch a TED talk as part of my daily learning routine. Today, I watched Daniel Tammet’s talk, “Different Ways of Knowing.”

His 10 minute and 54 second talk has me thinking about a number of things, and I share below just a few:

  • Isn’t the work of an educator to explore different ways of knowing? Isn’t our life’s work to examine how all of the learners in our care might perceive and understand a thing?
  • Isn’t the intersection of words, numbers, and pictures interesting?
  • How do we show what we see in our minds? Do we too often ignore the synthesis of things because of the complexity of demonstrating?
  • Literacy today (throughout time) is really about understanding the synthesis of words, numbers, and images, isn’t it? About how to communicate effectively?
  • What was Daniel Temmet’s life like in school? Was he a “problem student?” How can we discard that term, problem student, and strive as educators to honor and connect the ways of knowing in our school community?
  • How can I better use my observation journal to understand the rich and complex world around me?

Temporary Move to Posterous

For a few weeks, I will be blogging more through my Posterous blog (and relatively less here). It feels a bit more mobile, and it’s quicker when using email over 3G to post (at least with what I have learned so far). If you are reading this from a browser pointed to It’s About Learning, a link to my Posterous can be found on the right column. The direct URL is http://boadams1.posterous.com/. When I post to Posterous, the post is auto-tweeted. This morning, I began this little blog experiment with a post about ski school and PBL.

Not until I am ready!

This morning, I watched a MacSparky screencast, from David Sparks, called “OmniFocus Ninja Tricks (Part 2 of 3).” OmniFocus is a high-powered project-management app that synchronizes among my Mac, my iPad, and my iPhone. I am a low-powered user, and I want to get better with this tool. (Since I was a middle schooler myself, I also always wanted to be a ninja. I had throwing stars, nun-chucks, etc.) A colleague referred me to the screencasts, and they are great.

Here is what makes this mundane news “post-worthy,” in my opinion, on a blog about learning. This morning was the second time I had watched the 52 minute screencast. I saw things that I had not even noticed were there the first time. Huge chunks of 8-12 minutes of features, and I missed them. What made the difference this time? In the interim between viewing-one and viewing-two, I had been using OmniFocus, so my scaffolding and “need to know” was better this time around. From using the app as a novice user, though, I was at a boundary of learning, and I was experiencing some frustrations. So I returned to a resource to learn more. As Vygotsky might say, I had reached a different ZPD (zone of proximal development). I needed some support to get to the next level, but now I wanted to get to the next level – I knew there was more to know, I wanted to know it, and I could not know it without help. Now, I have climbed the next rung of the user ladder for OmniFocus. “So what?,” you might say. Or “Why is Bo writing about OmniFocus?”

How many times are our students in such a situation? We teach something, but they are not really ready to learn it yet. Their scaffolding or “need to know” is not primed for learning yet, like a dry pump that cannot pull water. Yet the typical, traditional routine is to “teach, test, hope for the best.” We assign a grade and move on to the next unit or chapter. Time has been the constant, and learning has been the variable. Just look at the variation of grades as evidence (assuming grades are really measures of learning). Support has been a relative constant, too.

I am not disparaging any particular teaching method or assessment practice. I am merely realizing, from being a learner myself, what my students must feel almost everyday. I am glad that I have developed the sense of self-assessing my current ability with a tool like OmniFocus and seeking help, and I am glad that nobody tested me for a permanent grade after my first viewing of the show and my early forays into using the app. I am glad I got a second chance.

Our faculty is switching from Toshiba Tablets (PCs) to MacBook Pros and Airs. How many of them are experiencing this cycle of:

introduced to new –>

overwhelmed –>

try new thing –>

experience some success, some frustration –>

want to know more –>

seek help and support –>

learn it better after practice and a different “need to know” –>

realize that the lessons were there from the start, but I was not ready then.

Learning is the constant…time and support are the variables. It’s been the other way around for far too long. It’s about learning!

Unslumping Myself

For the first time in my life (hyperbole, but it seemed like a good intro), I disagree with Dr. Seuss. In Oh, the Places You’ll Go, he wrote, “unslumping yourself is not easily done.” I think it can be easily done. Just do something. This post is my “something.” And…I tweeted a few “somethings” this morning (early!).

I have felt that I am in a “blog/twitter slump” for a couple of weeks. Here are some of my excuses. Do any resonate with you about something you feel slumped about?

  • I am too busy. I can’t prioritize blogging and tweeting right now.
  • I don’t have time to write. I need to work on all the close-of-school and 2011-12 opening-of-school stuff.
  • I can’t think of anything good to write. I don’t want people to be disappointed in my posts or tweets. I want to say something profound.

Then, it hit me. I was slumped, at least partly, by a fixed mindset. If even a fraction of why I did not feel like writing was because I was worried what other people might think, then I had slipped into a fixed mindset versus a growth mindset [see Carol Dweck’s Mindset]. Hey, it happens to all of us. So…what to do? Just tweet. Just write. Don’t do it for any recognition, and don’t not do it for fear of failing. To quote the famous Nike adage, “Just do it.” So…this is my swing at the ball for this morning. I might miss. So what. I am writing. I am unslumping myself. Is there something you need to unslump yourself about? Pick one actionable item, and try. Ignore all the reasons not to try, and just do something. 

Some folks might say, “Bo, it’s just blogging and tweeting. What’s the big deal?” (Of course, few if any of those folks probably read any of this.) The big deal is this (for me) – blogging is a great way for me to think out loud. I get to see what I am thinking by reading what I am writing. And if that’s all that happens, it’s worth it. But sometimes, someone reacts or responds to something I have written. Then, a conversation can happen. And I can do this for others on their posts and tweets. A seed can grow roots and stems. For me, blogging and tweeting (tweeting is just blogging in shorter bursts)
has connected me to a community, a network, of learners for which I am very thankful. I have felt disconnected from this network for two weeks. I want to reconnect. This will help me get started. This may just unslump me. It’s worth a try. Excuses got nothing on the screen. Taking 10 minutes and a risk produced something so that I could see what I am thinking. And, who knows…maybe a conversation can start.