A Walk with Blended Learning: Community Service

This morning I ran almost seven miles in Sand Run Metropark.  It was beautiful, hilly, and fast.

This morning I saw eight deer.

I'm not going to write about those experiences.

This morning I joined some of my students to participate in the Medina Walk out of the Darkness Suicide Awareness Event.  A large crowd showed up at 9 am on a chilly but sunny morning to walk 4.5 miles.  That crowd raised over nine thousand dollars, and my students were a part of it.

Part of the philosophy that I embrace about Blended Learning is that it facilitates community involvement.  I want my students to strive to be good citizens of their school, their community, their state, their country, and their world.  Students in my Blended Rhetoric and Composition class chose to fight back against suicide, a heart-breakingly relevent issue in our community.  What I had originally imagined to be a quick project in making videos turned into a large-scale community outreach complete with publicity, fund-raising, donations, interviews, research, and lots of writing.  Click here to see the video my students created to Stomp out Suicide.

Our walk today was a way for us to process everything the students have accomplished this year and to reflect on their involvement in the community and their year in Blended Learning.  I try not to always lead the class; I want them to lead themselves, each other, and me.  It was in this spirit that I encouraged my students to lead the way on the walk.  As they talked, I listened.

The students talked and laughed about Prom.  They poked fun at each other and at me.  Then, as often happens on walks or runs, they got serious.  One student told me why she was glad that she took my course.  She told me that she learned how to be more independent and responsible.  She said she learned to enjoy literature.  Another told me that she felt that our class had bonded more than any of her other classes at the school.

Every one of those students told me that they were so glad to get up and walk together in the sunshine at nine in the morning.



It was perfect.

 

 

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The Power of Collegial Coaching

Last night I edited my last few lines of my final paper for my graduate course, hit the submit button, immediately checked to see that I actually submitted the damned paper, checked again, and then poured myself a glass of wine.  Whew.

[caption id="attachment_298" align="alignnone" width="300"] This is EXACTLY what I was afraid I would see just as I submitted my paper.[/caption]

It was a bumpy ride, this course on Mentoring and Leadership, but I have to say that it was completely worthwhile.  I have been thinking a lot about Leadership lately.  I am currently a mentor for a second-year Resident Educator in Ohio, and it's a big responsibility.  I remember every mentor I've ever had, and it just occurred to me before I took this course that all of my mentors have retired.  Sure, I still visit with them, and they still offer great support, but who is currently my mentor at school?  This is the first step to realizing that I am old.

[caption id="attachment_299" align="alignnone" width="300"] This is EXACTLY how I look when I realize that I am an old teacher.[/caption]

 

 

[caption id="attachment_231" align="alignnone" width="225"] See the resemblance?[/caption]

The model that I often use in my mentoring experiences is that of Cognitive Coaching.  The premise of Cognitive Coaching is that my colleague has the answers to her questions/problems already, but she needs some help to bring them out.  I first learned about Cognitive Coaching when I helped to start our Mentorship Steering Committee in my school district about fifteen years ago.  I find that truly listening and reflecting back a colleague's thoughts gives that person the chance to discover his own truths.  When a teacher can find his own answers, it builds that teacher's sense of efficacy, and that is a large part of the goal of Cognitive Coaching.

Through my Leadership course I learned about Collegial Coaching, a process where two or more colleagues work together to form their own professional development.  This may include reading groups, reciprocal observations and critiques, and group discussions designed to improve teaching and learning.  The premise behind Collegial Coaching is that teachers know what they need to do to improve their classroom performance, but one can not force professional development on a teacher.  Professional development must be relevant, it must be authentic, and it must be clear in its payoff in the classroom.  Overall, teachers want to do what is best for students; if professional development does not offer immediate improvement in this area, teachers will not value it.

My colleagues and I have been formally and informally practicing collegial coaching for years; we just didn't know it.  Rob, the English teacher, sends out a group email at least once a week in which he attaches an article about educational practices or trends in education.  Some of his colleagues meet him for lunch for a lively discussion about the article; the rest of us (who don't eat during that time) weigh in by email or Google docs.  Our Blended Learning Pioneer Team meets weekly to discuss Best Practices in Blended Learning.   This is a practice started by our original  Tech Integration Administrator (Shout out to Stacy!), and our current Instructional Tech Coach (Christina) continues the practice.  Shannon (the Blended Learning Social Studies Teacher) and I meet nearly every day, or every night in a Facebook chat, to go over our trials and tribulations (See my post Snookledorp Means Camaraderie.) and rehash our day in the classroom.  In all of these practices, we continually challenge ourselves and each other, and the discussions can get heated.  The best part about Collegial Coaching in my building is that it all comes down to one question:  How is this good for kids?  We may have differences of opinion about many educational topics, but we all agree that our ultimate goal is to be the best teachers we can be to serve our students.

Last week Christina and I participated in a professional development session at Purcell Marian High School in Cincinnati.  We saw a group of dedicated teachers who were in the same boat we were in three years ago: they can see the headlights of the big Mack truck that is called Blended Learning, and they want to drive the truck instead of getting run over by it.

[caption id="attachment_300" align="alignnone" width="300"] My name is Blended Learning, and unless you can drive me, I'll mow you down![/caption]

 

We spent the day listening to them, and we heard our own voices from three years ago.  The difference now is that we know we have something to share with these teachers.  Three years ago we didn't know what the hell we were doing, and it seemed like there was no mentor for us.  Today I am thankful that there is an ever-expanding Blended Learning network in Ohio and, via Twitter, in the world.  This is what we were able to introduce to our colleagues, mentors who are willing to encourage, critique, and share.  What we saw at Purcell Marian was the beginning of great Collegial Coaching.  These teachers have the will to examine themselves and their practices with a critical eye, and they have the sense of efficacy to know that they can create a learning environment that is good for kids.

My colleagues at Purcell Marian made me hopeful for the next step in Collegial Coaching in our own district.  How can teachers provide even more leadership through professional development?  How can we be the leaders we need in our classrooms, our schools, our district?  How can we continually question our practices with the idea of what is good for kids?

This is an exciting thought for someone who believes in encouraging efficacy, who believes that she and her colleagues can create their own intellectually and creatively stimulating environment.

Rock on, Purcell Marian Friends.  You have inspired me to fight the good fight in education.

Stephani Itibrout

Blended Rhetoric and Composition

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Change Is. . .

This week I was part of a team of teachers who led a professional development day at Beaver Local School District.  Even though I have presented at three conferences, a board meeting, and a podcast, I was nervous as hell.  A dark secret we all know is that teachers can be the worst audience.  They can be critical, disinterested, or downright rude.  There are many reasons for this, but I attribute the main reason to the fact that professional development offered to us usually sucks.  There, I said it.



Kent Polen, Superintendent of Beaver Local SD, invited us to present for his waiver day.  He gave us very open-ended instructions, but one thing he told us really interested me:  Beaver Local is building a completely new school district.  Their teachers and students are highly involved in the whole process, from working with the architects to researching programs and technology for future use.  Kent told us, "We can't create a completely new building on the outside and do the same thing we've always done on the inside.  We need to change with the times."  There is nothing more fearful and at the same time exciting to me (and many other teachers) than those words.

Change is good.  It is exciting, stimulating.  Change is bad.  It is stressful, worrisome.  Oh boy, I know this.

Three years ago, I started a wrestling match with Change called Blended Learning.  My principal asked me to be a part of our Blended Learning Pioneer Team, and I said yes.  I didn't even know what Blended Learning was, and so I started a year of research.  The whole time I was convinced that I was learning to develop technology in the classroom that would eventually replace me.  What changed my mind was good professional development:  Blackboard World, OETC, Learn 21, Twitter, and the fascinating blogs and articles written by my colleagues.  I learned that there is a time and place for technology, and I learned that sometimes I can relinquish control of my students' path to learning.  I am learning to be a guide who participates in the journey rather than a travel agent who delivers a completely planned itinerary.  Three years later, I am still here, and I am still teaching and learning right along with my students.

Back to the professional development session.  I taught three sessions about using Web 2.o tools (see our Google site with links here) and one session on Google docs.  The Beaver Local teachers were outstanding: kind, eager, energetic, and FUN!  I gained some experts in my Twitterverse (@Kentpolen, @AmyWolski, @mrjcongo), and I learned to expand my thinking about instruction to other subjects and grade levels.

I would like to thank my colleagues at Beaver Local School District for reminding me how scary and exciting change can be.  I would like to thank Kent Polen for being on the cutting edge of change for his school district.  Finally, I would like to thank my Medina colleagues for encouraging change.  When Christina (Technology Integration Coach, formerly The Math Teacher on this blog) told us about this opportunity, I said, "I don't know what I can offer."  She and Shannon (The Social Studies Teacher on this blog) looked at me like I was insane (shhhhh. .  .Let this one go.) and reminded me of things I had learned that, instead of taking for granted, I should be sharing with my colleagues.  Thank you for reminding me that I do contribute.

Change is. . .Necessary.

 

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Blended Learning and Service Learning

Today I am exhausted and humbled.  Yesterday, I was exhausted and nervous as hell.

Yesterday my Blended Learning Rhetoric and Composition students organized a community event to record a video for the Medina County Stomp out Suicide Project.  They have been planning this particular scene for at least a month.  This means that I haven't had any sleep for at least a month.  Let me backtrack a bit. . .

 

One day my students and I were discussing possible research projects when I came upon an online flyer for the Stomp out Suicide Video Project.  "Hey, do you want to make a video for this contest?" I asked.  "You could win a thousand bucks."  The students jumped all over it, but in the way that seventeen year olds think about how cool it would be to make a video without doing any of the work to make a video.  We downloaded the information and the students half-heartedly discussed ideas.

That day the unthinkable happened:  our school lost one of our own to suicide.  That evening, one of my students emailed me.  "This just got very real for all of us, " she wrote.  "We need to get serious and do something to make a difference."  And so they did.

The students created storyboards, recruited two videographers, and started shooting.  They researched statistics.  They assigned responsibilities.  One idea they all agreed on was that they needed a community crowd scene.  "Our theme is 'You are not alone,'" they said, "so we need to show that nobody is alone.  We need the community."  They created a Twitter hashtag (#MedinaStrong).  They created waivers and flyers.

 



 

 

I watched with pride (and honestly, a whole lot of angst) while my students made appointments with administrators, safety forces, business owners, students, and community members.  "Beth," a student who had always been a bit shy and quiet, volunteered to meet with our school's administrators and book the high school stadium and the gymnasium, in case of inclement weather.  "John," another student who previously hadn't been much of a go-getter, managed to secure free pizzas, pop, and all the napkins and cups we needed for a large crowd.  He also volunteered to plug our video on the school's morning video announcements.  My students wrote invitations to school board members and our communications director.  They papered our hallways with posters.

What was my role?  I tried to stay the hell out of their way.  I bit my tongue. . . a lot.  I showed them how to log their "business meetings" and all the documentation for the video into a wiki on Blackboard.  I retweeted them.  I took pictures. . .and I held my breath.

Yesterday, I watched my students organize a crowd of ninety students, EMT's, police officers, and community members into a meaningful event.  They presented an opening ceremony, they directed all of those people, and they sent them away feeling that they contributed to something important in the community.  Oh, and they collected money through wristband sales to donate to the Battered Women's Shelter of Medina.  Here are two newspaper articles describing that day:

"Video: Teens, think twice about suicide" from the Medina County Gazette

 

"Medina High School students create suicide prevention video" from Cleveland.com

 

In my last post, I described my job as a shepherd dog.  In this particular case, I learned how a blended learning class is really supposed to work.  My students were inquisitive, and they were willing to do the work.  I was lucky enough to point a finger and gently nudge them from time to time.  When I can take a moment to exhale (we aren't finished with the editing process of the video), I will be able to reflect on how this project helped the students ( and me) to learn and grow.  More importantly, I will allow the students to reflect on their learning.  I want them to tell me what they learned, not just for the sake of the Common Core Standards, but to give them the opportunity to realize what a fabulous moment they shared.  This is something I will remember forever, and I certainly believe they will, too.

 

[caption id="attachment_282" align="alignnone" width="300"] You are not alone. Photo: Sydney Campbell[/caption]

 

 

Stephani Itibrout

Want to read more about Blended Learning?  Follow me on Twitter @itibrout

 

Return of the Wiki

So. . . because I am a masochist, or because I am extremely stubborn (or both), I am revisiting my use of the the Big, Bad Blackboard Wiki in my Rhetoric and Composition class.  Why is this so frightening to me?  Click here for a glimpse at my epic fail with the wiki last year.

This year is different.  It is.  The students are different, the assignment is different, I am different (true story--I am different:  I broke my foot!).

 

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="500"] This is an image of the Wiki-Gods laughing at my attempt at redemption. I'll bet you didn't know that the Wiki-Gods are evil cats.[/caption]

 

For this assignment, channeling the true spirit of Blended Learning, my students chose a collaborative project in which they will create a suicide prevention video, which they will submit to the Stomp out Suicide Project, sponsored by Alternative Paths.  What better way to collaborate than with a wiki?

Because the project is completely student-driven, and their idea came rather unexpectedly, I didn't give the extensive wiki-training prep that I gave last year.  Instead, I showed a short clip that demonstrated the purpose and function of a wiki, and then I demonstrated the basics of Blackboard Wiki.  I already know that I should have given the students more time to process the technical aspects, but they are picking it up a little more each time they work.

The wiki is currently very messy, but I've upped the ante by informing the students that I am going to present the information on their wiki at a Board of Education meeting on Monday night. There is nothing like a surprise deadline to instill panic  make students productive.  We shall see.

I have to remind myself that the basic concept of Blended Learning is one of student responsibility.  Students learn through mistakes, and learning is messy, just like the wiki.  As the teacher, I need to give them room to figure things out, with gentle nudges in the right direction from time to time.  Sort of like a shepherd dog.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="400"] This is EXACTLY how I look when I'm herding ducks. Or teaching wikis.[/caption]

 

 

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Banned Books Week

The week of September 23, 2013 is Banned Books Week.  This affects every reader, but as a teacher of literature, I take personally any attempt to ban books, especially books that I currently teach.

In celebration of Banned Books Week, a North Carolina school board banned Invisible Man, by Ralph Ellison.  Read NPR's report here.

Ralph Ellison's novel is a bildungsroman about an African-American who gradually loses his naivete about racism during the Harlem Renaissance.  My students find it to be a difficult read, sometimes because of Ellison's highly-descriptive and poetic style, sometimes because of the frustrating innocence of the protagonist.

 

 

 

 

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="600"] Invisible Man in his apartment with stolen light.
Photo: Jeff Wall[/caption]

 

 

 

We spend weeks unpacking the novel.  My students learn literary criticism through their research on Ellison and the Harlem Renaissance.  They learn how to analyze a work for its motifs.  They learn that syntax can be symbolic.  They learn that writers can be eerily prophetic.  At the end of it all, we are exhausted but better for our journey through Ellison's graphically-depicted world.

I hope that my students will better appreciate literature knowing that there will always be authority figures who wish to keep it from them.  I hope they ask questions, many questions, of themselves and the authority figures in their lives.  I hope they find at least one book that makes them think, grow. . .and want to change the world for the better.

 

Stephani Itibrout

English Teacher

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Armchair Quarterbacks in Education

We all know Armchair Quarterbacks.

[caption id="attachment_246" align="alignnone" width="250"] My husband is a card-carrying member. Are you?[/caption]

 

Those are the people who can solve all the problems of education with a wave of a magic wand.  The Armchair Quarterback has the brilliant ideas that NOBODY has EVER thought of, and without any research or understanding of education, he has just figured out what you were never smart enough to know.   My husband is an Armchair Quarterback.  His priority is usually saving the Browns (why won't they call him????), but on occasion, he graces me with his wisdom about what is wrong with education and what should fix the problem.  His solutions involve lots of uses of "they" ("Who are they?" I ask.  "You know, the people in charge.  Them," he replies, as if I am especially simple-minded during this conversation), and he talks at length about budgets.  I find it incredible that a man who can't drive past a Sears Hardware without dropping fifty bucks talks to me about budgets.

This post isn't about publicly ridiculing my husband.  I can do that the next time he tries to beat me at euchre.  This post is about people who think that there are simple, quick fixes to problems in education.

Our district has a school board election coming up.  For reasons that you have probably heard on the news or read about in the newspapers (if you live in Ohio), there will be many people who feel very strongly that they can "fix" the education in our district, more specifically the budget.  One of the candidates has stated publicly that online education will be the way to fix our budget. This disturbs me for many reasons, but I only have the space to explain one of them.  I am a Blended Learning Teacher.  I teach Blended Rhetoric and Composition on a rotational model.  The students come to class at least three days a week, and they can choose to "flex" the other two days by working on their projects from home.  They can also choose to come in to class during that time for conferences, help, or just because they would rather be in school at that time.  I monitor their flex time through Blackboard, our LMS, and they frequently communicate with me when they aren't in school.

My first thought is this:  If my course goes to full online instruction, how will that save money?  Will we require students to come to school and use our computers?  We need new computers, if that is the case.  Who will teach the children?  Will the board buy canned online courses and replace me with a "computer monitor" (see what I did there?) who makes eight bucks an hour and watches the students to prevent vandalism or other discipline problems?

On Friday I looked at my class, and I took a deep breath.  I had thirteen different projects going on all at once.  Some students were researching blogs, some were editing their previous writing, some were collaborating on a new project (a suicide prevention campaign), some were writing literary analyses about "Little Things" by Raymond Carver, and some were reading the next section of 1984.  All of them were practicing relevant, real-world skills that they will need when they leave high school.  All of them needed my guidance, direction, re-direction, and encouragement because they are still in high school and not ready for the real world.  Can a prepaid online course give them all of that?

It all boils down to this: when we devalue the role of teachers, we devalue our children.  My students deserve the best, and I want to do my best to give it to them.

Look, I don't know the answers, especially when it comes down to budgets.  For me, starting a Blended Learning class is one way that I can try to be a part of the solution.  You want students to be better prepared for life after school?  I'm trying to help.  Armchair Quarterbacks, I think it's great that you want to help.  Just know that the Facebook status of education right now might best be "It's complicated."  Please do some research, really think about the pros and cons instead of just dismissing or ignoring the parts you don't like,  and then share your ideas.

 

Stephani Itibrout

Rhetoric and Composition

Follow me on Twitter @itibrout