If you have had a training day on return to school after the break, I hope it was a good one. In my experience, the training day is marred by the inclusion of a session in which a guest 'expert' addresses the whole staff. The aspects I liked best were the time available to work with my team, and the time I had on my own to get things ready for when the kids returned.

If you have any opportunity to organise your own time on a training day, here's what I suggest should be the priorities from an education technology perspective:

Read more.

cross-posted at www.ictineducation.org

Terry Freedman is an independent educational ICT consultant with over 35 years of experience in education. He publishes the ICT in Education website and the newsletter “Digital Education."

Around a year ago I wrote an article entitled 8 Observations on flipping the classroom, in which I put forward the reasons I thought it not a great idea. I still stand by those arguments, although my attitude towards flipping the classroom as a general idea has mellowed somewhat. Let me explain.

Class discussion Photo by Andrew Feinberg http://www.flickr.com/photos/andrewfeinberg/

My understanding of flipping the classroom, as originally conceived and still talked about as far as I can see, is that it’s a situation in which the teacher records his or her “lectures” so that their students can watch them out of lesson time, freeing up time in the classroom for discussion, interaction between teacher and student, peer learning etc etc etc. Read the article I just referred to for the reasons I think the whole idea is ridiculous, despite the fact that some clearly very clever people have managed to make it work.

My main arguments against it are that:

• good teachers don’t lecture for very much of the time, if at all;
• I don’t know of any teacher who has time to record and polish up videos of their lectures and prepare lessons and do their marking and have some semblance of a private life;
• Lectures are known to be the least efficient means of transmitting knowledge.

I could go on.

However, if we broaden the concept of flipping the classroom to encompass more than video lectures, it all makes perfect sense. Basically, the idea is that you give your students something to do between this lesson and the next, so that they will be better able in the next lesson to take an active part in it, through discussion, suggestion-making, assessing their peers’ work, and so on. Put like that, it’s pretty amazing isn’t it? I mean, it must make perfect sense, because that’s exactly what good teachers have been doing for eons.Pardon my sarcasm, which I know is unbecoming a gentleman, but really!

If you forget about video lectures for a moment, what else is possible?

• Ask students to watch a forthcoming TV documentary;
• Tell them to listen to a forthcoming radio debate.
• Make a video of a discussion between you and someone else, and tell them to watch that. (I once made a video of a local businesswoman being interviewed by myself. It worked pretty well.)
• Tell them to read a newspaper article.
• Tell them to read a particular blog post.
• Tell them to listen to a particular podcast episode.

• Flip This (scottjelias.net)
• Flipped Classrooms: Beyond the Videos (dougwoods.co.uk)
• Flipped Classroom: The Full Picture Workshop (slideshare.net)

I have found the Never Seconds debacle quite interesting. Story in a nutshell, in case you missed it: nine-year-old Martha Payne writes a daily blog in which she uploads a picture of her school lunch and reviews it. Argylle and Bute Council (in Scotland) has some sort of nervous breakdown and issues an edict telling Martha that she isn’t allowed to take photos of her lunch, because catering staff are now in fear of their jobs. As a consequence, Martha’s blog gets over 5 million page views in just a few days, the number of comments on her posts soars from around 30 to over 2,300 in two days, and Argyll and Bute rescind the ban.

A few aspects of this are worth discussing with students I think.

Food, glorious food

• How not to limit freedom of expression in the digital era (davidhenderson.com)

In England we have a weekly soap set in a school called Waterloo Road. This has everything you would hope not to find in a school: inappropriate behaviour, theft, even attempted murder – and that’s just the staff. The kids are pretty OK by comparison: teenaged pregnancy, illegal drug-taking and gangs. Strangely enough, there doesn’t seem to be more than 30 kids on roll, judging by the number of people who attend whole-school assemblies. But my main interest is this: what (good) use of technology is shown in this programme?

Where is their role model? Photo (c) Anoka County LibraryThe answer is, precious little. Occasionally, you see an interactive whiteboard with something displayed on it. However, that something is invariably a page full of text and is never referred to or used in any way by the teacher.

A few weeks ago the head boy and girl were allowed time off lessons or studying to make a promotional video about the school, and were permitted, unsupervised, to upload it to the school website. There was an implicit assumption that being studious also meant being trusted to ensure you could take responsibility for ensuring that something uploaded to the school website was appropriate. It’s a dangerous assumption to make: even using an out-of-date logo could be construed as inappropriate (I was once asked to change the logo I’d used on a Local Authority training pack for ICT because, unbeknownst to me, the corporate logo had recently been changed.)

Needless to say, someone intervened and uploaded the outtakes, which were pretty embarrassing (the two people concerned were “an item”).

The only good use of technology, in fact, is displayed by the kids, when they use their phones to text each other with messages like “Skip last lesson? Meet you outside the gate at 2”.

So, the school is not a good example of a functional school in general, and neither is it a beacon of excellence in terms of the use of technology. But an article in the Daily Telegraph made me think: but what would a good role model of ICT/technology actually look like?

In the article, Hossein Yassaie, the Chief Executive of Imagination Technologies, argues that what we need is a David Beckham figure for technology, to get young people interested:

In the UK, people get excited by what they see – The X Factor or football. David Beckham is a big deal [in inspiring young people] but we don't have an equivalent for British technology.

Fine words, but what would such a person “look” like? What does a good role model in ICT (Educational Technology) look like?

I have a few ideas of my own, but I’d be interested to hear what others think, so I’ve set up a short survey to canvass people’s views. Results will be published here in a few weeks’ time. Do spare 5 minutes or so to share your views, as I think this is an important issue.

Other articles you may find interesting in this regard are:

What Does A Good ICT School Look Like?

25 Features Of Outstanding ICT Lessons

How do you encourage pupils and students to think critically in the context of educational technology? Although we can devote a lot of time and energy to setting up the "right environment", I can't help thinking that really it all comes down to some pretty simple questions, and very straightforward approaches.

Suspect everyone and everything! Image (c) olarte.ollie, http://www.flickr.com/photos/ollieolarte/First, as a general rule, the teacher needs to encourage a critical approach by walking the talk. That means being open to an other-than-expected answer from students. All too often, a teacher will ask a question, and go round the class until they get the "right" answer.

To take a really simple example, if you ask a class what sort of software you would use to write a letter, how do you respond to a child who answers "a spreadsheet"? It would be good to know why they think that. It could be a lack of knowledge, or it could be a completely mistaken set of assumptions. On the other hand, it could be a logical idea.

I, for example, do not write letters using a spreadsheet. I do, however, create my invoices in a spreadsheet and then, if I wish to include a covering note or some additional information, put that in the invoice spreadsheet rather than in a word-processed letter. It saves time and is, for the recipient, much more efficient than having two different documents to look at.

So the second thing to do is to always ask "Why?". And not just once. When the answer comes, ask “Why?” again. Imagine this sort of exchange:

Teacher: How can you prevent other people opening your documents?

Student: Use a password.

T: Why would that make it secure?

S: Because people wouldn’t know what the password was.

T: Why not?

S: Because you would use personal information.

T: Why would that make the password secure?

You could take this sort of conversation in several directions, eliciting issues such as not using information that others can easily guess, or not leaving yourself logged in so that someone doesn’t even need to know your password. The point is that by asking “Why?"/Why not?” you’re making it clear that the answer given isn’t good enough because it still leaves room for doubt.

A big objection to this sort of approach will be that there is no time, that if you did that for every topic you’d never get through the syllabus. I don’t believe this to be the case because that assumes that the students don’t change. They do. Once they realise that you won’t let them get away with any old un-thought-though answer, they will start to think more carefully before answering. They will start to ask themselves the “Why?” question and the “How do you know?” question (see below).

In any case, if the whole point of having a syllabus, and lessons, is that the students learn stuff, what’s the point of getting through it in such a way that they don’t learn? The “we don’t have time” argument implicitly assumes that learning the content of the course is more important than learning how to think about the content. The students need both. (In this regard, see Steve Wheeler’s article, A dangerous game.)

Third, ask “How do you know?” Apply this in the same way as the “why?” question, especially to information sources or people, and the (implied) challenge, “Prove it!”. I always took the view that if I could get my students to not even believe me unless I had given them good reason to, I had done a good job.

Fourth, find some good resources and, fifth, develop good activities to go with them. A good starting point is a newly-opened website called Digital Disruption. It comprises several categories of “propaganda”, with lots of embedded YouTube videos, lesson plans and notes to accompany some of the videos. I’ve had a few quick looks and I think it warrants further exploration, although it is a bit of a mixed bag. The cartoony videos make their point but with a cacophonous soundtrack, while some lesson plans appear to be absent. At least, clicking on them doesn’t take you a lesson plan. Also, one of the Answers given to questions on one of the videos states that the video has been proven to be a hoax, without giving any references for that assertion, which seems to me to be a strange approach in a resource such as this. Still, have a look at it, and you may find your Media Studies colleagues appreciate it too – assuming that YouTube is not blocked in your school of course. If it is, this website provides a good case for getting it unblocked.

Bottom line: adopt the view espoused by George Bernard Shaw, Ambrose Bierce and others, that in any situation a cynical view is likely to prove justified!

I’ve been skimming through Silvia Tolisano’s series on student blogging. I emphasise “skimming” because she may have addressed the issues I raise below without my being aware of it. She places much store by a rubric developed by Clarence Fisher for the purpose of evaluating students’ blogging efforts.

Yeah, right! Photo is (c) Robert Lennon http://www.flickr.com/photos/digitalrob70/On the face of it, this is a good idea. A rubric has the advantage of showing rather than telling. By way of analogy, if you wanted to tell someone what a chicken looks like you could either relate a list of all its attributes, or you could show them a photo of a chicken. The latter is so much easier. On the other hand, there is almost always a degree of subjectivity. In this case, for instance, what is the difference between a blog that is “written in a somewhat interesting style and voice” and one that is “written in an interesting style and voice”. And how long would it take to evaluate a whole class-full of student blogs if for each one you have to not only read the blog but judge it against 16 criteria?

But there are, I think, more fundamental objections to this rubric as it stands:

First, it fails to address the “so what?” question. What is the purpose of the blog? Other criteria have to relate to this directly. For example, do the illustrations used further the blog’s purpose?

As an adjunct to this, even if the blog’s purpose is clear, is there actually any point to the blog? I mean, many (student) blogs seem to exist simply to relate the minutiae of the writer’s life: why should I be interested? I realise that that sounds rather crass, but let me put it this way. A few years ago I picked up an article that purported to be a review of the BETT show. In fact, two thirds of it were about the writer’s journey to the BETT show. What made him think anyone else cared?

Second, the rubric implies that the more multimedia there is, the better. But, as stated above, any multimedia should serve the blog’s purpose or enhance it in some way. The enhancement aspect is covered, but in the context of multiple pieces of multimedia. What if the student had selected the “perfect” illustration? How would adding more add to the quality of the blog? Sometimes – in fact, often – less is more.

Third, the rubric contains criteria related to how interesting the style and voice are. But what about a very simple, and yes, highly subjective, criterion: how enjoyable was it to read? Writing is meant to be read, and it can be interesting and well-illustrated, but if it’s not actually enjoyable to read, who will want to read it?

Fourth, is it good enough to have been published and paid for? I think this is perhaps controversial, but if a magazine editor could see themselves paying the writer for publishing the blog post then it surely means it must have some merit?

That leads me on nicely to my final point: are teachers the right people to evaluate students’ blogs anyway? Or should they be the only people to evaluate them? Perhaps a friendly professional writer or editor could be drafted in occasionally to give their opinions?

We probably all like to think that our first stab at something is going to be perfect. We tend to resent “helpful” suggestions, at least at first. Oscar Wilde, when asked if he could make a few changes to a play he’d written, quipped “Who am I to tamper with a masterpiece?”. However, editing usually makes things better rather than worse. The challenge is convincing youngsters (and others!) that suggesting some edits is not a reflection on their abilities or knowledge.

In any case, edits can always be undone and the original restored, so nothing is lost except a bit of time (assuming you have taken sensible saving precautions, of course). What sort of edits might be suggested?

Editing is usually worth it in the end

I think whether you’re editing text, sound, video or photos, the following three generic questions should be asked:

• Are there any errors? Spellcheckers don’t pick up all mistakes, so before submitting a piece of text as a final essay, project report or PowerPoint presentation, students should get someone else to check it. All professional authors and writers have someone else proofread their work.The concept of proofreading can be applied to all the other media too.
• Is there too much “noise”? Before making a sound recording it’s a good idea to record half a minute of the background noise so that you can try to filter it out later. On a video, the “noise” might consist of people making faces at the camera in the background. In text I regard as noise items that are completely irrelevant.For example, a few years ago I read a review of a conference, and the first three paragraphs were taken up describing the journey to get there, which was fast and uneventful. That would be like a film review describing the journey to get to the cinema. The writer obviously got carried away and forgot why he was writing the review and for whom he was writing it.So there’s a good tip to bear in mind: will your audience/readership think this is useful and relevant? If you think not, then it needs to go. Of course, if a student comes up with a brilliant turn of phrase that would a pity to lose, tell them to save it in a “snippets” file. This is, after all, ICT: nothing needs to be lost! Another example of noise where the way the thing looks is too prominent, eg with lots of fonts, colours and other formatting devices.
• Can the result be improved if some of the detail is cut out, even if all of the detail is relevant? In text, usually cutting out the detail makes things a bit tighter. Anyone interested in finding out more can always follow up the references provided (always provide references). PowerPoint slides are better with few details rather than more. Even from an artistic point of view, photos can often be improved through cropping, as I think the before and after pictures below illustrate.

Before...

... After

• Dealing With Background Noise (brighthub.com)
• 10 attributes of professional writers -- #6: Proofread properly (Writersknowhow.org)