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How Schools Should Respond to #BlackLivesMatter

Recently, during a transformation workshop at my school we were asked to raise our hands if we thought that we were racist. I was one of very few white teachers to raise my hand. The reaction was shock and horror. I suppose I should be gratified that so many of my colleagues expressed surprise that I should consider myself racist. After all, I firmly believe in equality in matters of class, gender and race. I can’t remember a time when I did not hold to this creed. I remember being punished during Guidance period at school and having to stand outside the classroom with the other left wing student in my class because we had dared to condemn the Apartheid government’s policies on race. I had gone into exile rather than serve in the South African army, and been arrested for protesting racism as a student. I hope I have never said anything approaching a racist slur, inference or utterance that might have given offence. And yet I was born at a certain time, and in a certain place with a certain skin colour which gives me a privilege denied millions of fellow citizens. I was born with certain ideas embedded in my cultural baggage. Ideas I have not fully unpacked or questioned. Ideas which undoubtedly contain deep seated racist ideological slants which I have not fully understood or disowned.

There is a very useful way of looking at these things in the theoretical toolkit which is Legitimation Code Theory (Maton, 2014), and that is the notion that concepts are linked to each other by connective logics, but are arranged by the knower in clusters and constellations which give meaning. In the Sciences these linkages are made in different ways, but are largely governed by epistemic logics of cause and effect, for example, or of properties and descriptions. In the Humanities, however, constellations are rather constructed by the process of the valorization of ideas. For example in Education a cluster of beliefs around Constructivist Learning Theory charges student-centered practices such as PBL positively, and charges teacher-centered approaches such as direct instruction negatively. This creates constellations, or clusters of ideas that stand in opposition to one another. This despite the fact that there may be no logical connection between the ideas themselves other than their valorization. Constructivist learning theory can live quite happily with direct instruction. Students learn, teachers teach. And yet teachers are almost afraid to whisper that they have taught a class rather than guided discovery because it is so heavily stigmatized.

The constellation of racism clearly includes ideas around racial superiority and inferiority, notions around racial difference and separation, and notions around the justification of systemic oppression based largely on fear of the other. I know relatively few people who would own to these ideas, and would certainly disown any who did. And yet there are undoubtedly strains of racist clusters of ideas hiding in many constellations which we cannot so easily discern. Or if we do, prove difficult to hunt down and eliminate from all our thinking. The same is true of the way we constellate class, or gender, or age, or sexual orientation or what is neurotypical.

There is a deep-seated dichotomy of binary oppositions between mind and body, for example which runs straight to notions of race. For example, Africans are constellated as physical, and social, Europeans as intellectual and individualistic. These clusters of ideas run deep, embedded in many fields, often hidden within expressions of praise. When whites praise the idea of ubuntu, there is no malice intended, and yet it reinforces a charging of ideas that associate Africa with greater communitariansim, but implicitly deficient in individualism, which continues to be valorized as positive! The physical strength and endurance of African long distance runners is lauded, but in charging this as a positive attribute, there is an implied binary opposite which, albeit silently, charges Africa as intellectually deficient and implicitly supports a systemic aversion to African intellectualism or ideas.

These ideas are seldom given voice, except in overtly racist settings, but underpin a great deal of an inherited European intellectual outlook. Why do we, as white people, tend to trust dead white theorists over other approaches, or cling to pride in our own individualism? These are not evil impulses, and indeed I’m not sure I could disavow this attitude even if I wished. It is part of the heritage of being an occidental. I suppose the best that can be asked of any white person is that they begin to examine their hidden constellations of ideas for racist assumptions and implied logics, and use caution when thinking through any problem. It is not that occidental thought is wrong, merely that there are alternative ways of constellating the world, and the occidental view has no logical privilege.

Schools in South Africa, and doubtless around the world are being challenged to respond to calls to examine white privilege and to decolonize the curriculum. I think it would be fair to say that our schooling system privileges western value-systems and outlooks, and that this is no longer tolerable. There is a direct conduit from the constellation of ideas in our education system to the exercise of power in the streets. Many teachers are today posting #BlackLivesMatter messages in support of their students and their demands and this is clearly important, but I think we all need to start the messy and painful process of imagining how to decolonize our education system so that no one view is privileged, and all are valorized. Understanding how ideas are linked and clustered, and how this underpins implicit world views is a starting point.

Many voices are asking white people not to attempt to hijack the conversation and to simply listen and support. I believe this is a period in which teachers and schools generally should listen to the voices of students. But I do believe the position we need to listen from is one in which we acknowledge our intellectual and cultural baggage. We do need to listen from a point of view of saying that our ears are open and we are willing and able to hear.

Bibliography

Knowledge and Knowers: Towards a realist sociology of education by Karl Maton (2014)

 

Becoming anti-racist: Learning about race in CS Education

An excellent blog post on an important issue! there is a great deal to unpack here.

Computing Education Research Blog

I don’t usually invite external review on my blog posts for CACM, but I did this month because it’s such an important topic and I know too little about it — “CS Teachers, It’s (Past) Time To Learn About Race” (see link here). Many thanks to Melissa Perez, Carl Haynes, Leigh Ann DeLyser, Betsy DiSalvo, Leo Porter, Chad Jenkins, Wes Weimer, Barbara Ericson, Matthew Guzdial, Katie Guzdial, and Manuel Perez Quinones.

We have to change CS Education. We do not talk enough about BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, and People of Color) students and faculty in CS education. We have to reflect that Black Lives Matter in our teaching practice. We have to become explicitly anti-racist (a term I just learned this last week, see the book link here) — actively seeking to address historic and systemic inequities (see piece at CNN too).

One of the reviewer’s comments…

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Posted by on June 8, 2020 in Uncategorized

 

Teaching in Masks!

As schools in South Africa begin a phased re-opening, those of us who have been teaching remotely for the last two months, will need to get used to teaching some of our students on campus, and some remotely. South Africa has decided to send our matriculation and grade 7 students back first on 1 June, with other grades following in a staggered manner. But the situation is complicated by the fact that some students may elect to stay at home rather than come in to school, some may be ill and are advised to stay at home, and some may be fragile and attend school intermittently. To be frank, as teachers we do not know what to expect. How many of our students in any class will be on campus? How many at home? But we must be prepared to teach them one way or another.

When schools closed as the lockdown was announced I think we had a fairly good idea as EdTech champions as to how to help teachers prepare for teaching remotely. We were able to train those staff who needed help using the school Learning Management System. Were able to suggest software options for recording lessons, adding whiteboards, setting up online assignments, launching meetings, and so on. I do not feel as confident in any advice we can give for teaching half your class face to face, and simultaneously half of it online! This is completely uncharted territory!

Some teachers have explored Flipped Classroom models in which students watch or read instructional materials at home and then do worked activities in the classroom with the support of the teacher. This flips the traditional model where the teacher introduces concepts at school, and students do exercises which explore and consolidate the concepts at home. It seems to me that the only viable way of teaching simultaneously face-to-face and online needs to take this model as a starting point. If a classroom has an interactive whiteboard, the teacher can use the IWB and display their Learning Managment System, be it Google Classroom, Teams or Moodle on the board so that it can be seen by students in the classroom and by students at home. The teacher can then help both students in the classroom and those at home complete whatever tasks have been set. If the teacher themselves has to be at home, they can broadcast to the classroom in the same way, with a substitute teacher on site to manage the classroom. Having a web camera installed on your IWB to capture the classroom would help here as well.

This forms a very general infrastructure which could allow for a variety of pedagogical approaches to be explored by teachers. Teachers are used to adapting to changing circumstances, and will find ways of making it work. In larger departments it might be possible for teachers to team teach, one on site and one at home. Likewise I believe that it would be beneficial to use students’ personal devices in the classroom to pair up students on site and those at home to help work through activities that combine classroom and home-based activities. For example one student on site and one remote could discuss a text, or work on a shared Google doc, communicating via the LMS chat or apps such as whatsapp.

I do not think any of this will be easy, and will be open to all kinds of technological glitches, but I do believe that we will find ways of working that not only make the best of a bad situation, but also open up ways of working that will add tools to our armoury as teachers that we can use once things return to normal.

If they ever do.

 

On-Line Learning: Out of the Google gallimaufry

A thoughtful and necessary intervention, and a really cool new word to add to our vocabulary!

There's a Hadeda in my Garden

You will be forgiven for not knowing the meaning of the word gallimaufry. I didn’t before I read this piece. The definition, ‘a confused jumble or medley of things’ can sometimes be applied to education, especially during this period of emergency remote teaching. Lester Lalla, Headmaster at St John’s Preparatory School, offers a way through the confusion.


The sudden closure of schools and the race to online learning has been a mammoth task for educators across the globe. I maintain that the dedication and devotion of teachers is incomparable. I am very proud of my profession. 

Educational technology has been a game-changer. It has enabled us to engage our students remotely and enabled us to teach in both synchronous and asynchronous ways. However, while EdTech is an enabler, it is not a substitute teacher. A growing…

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Posted by on May 17, 2020 in Uncategorized

 

Thought Experiments on Why Face-to-Face Teaching Beats On-Line Teaching: We are Humans, not Econs

Computing Education Research Blog

With everything moving on-line, I’m seeing more discussion about whether this on-line life might just be better. Amy Ko recently blogged (see post here) about how virtual conferences are cheaper, more accessible, and lower carbon footprint than face-to-face conferences, ending with the conclusion for her “it is hard to make the case to continue meeting in person.” My colleague, Sarita Yardi, has been tweeting about her exploration of “medium-independent classes” where she considers (see tweet here), “Trying to use the block of class time just because that’s how we’ve always taught seems like something to revisit. Less synchronous time; support short, frequent individual/small group interaction, less class time.”

It’s hard to do on-line education well. I used to study this kind of learning a lot (see post on “What I have learned about on-line collaborative learning”). I recently wrote about how we’re mostly doing emergency remote…

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Posted by on May 11, 2020 in Uncategorized

 

Teacher, you are doing a good job, even if you don’t think you are!

As Thoreau noted, we all live lives of quiet desperation, and yet if you go on social media, all you see is happy, successful people boasting of their achievements! During the time of coronavirus this is especially the case. We are daily reminded that Shakespeare wrote King Lear in quarantine, and that we could all be learning Madarin, or composing symphonies, or at the very least baking industrial quantities of banana bread! It is easy to believe that everyone is coping better than you are, that you are the only one who hasn’t used this time productively. For teachers, we hear colleagues telling us how well their remote classes are going, how engaged the students are, what good results they are getting. How easy it is!

I would take this talk with a healthy pinch of salt. I am sure that some classes do go well. Teachers are doing an amazing job at transferring online. For some teachers just getting online has been a major triumph! Many new tools have been tested and creative and innovative ways of teaching trialed and worked at. This is in the nature of teachers, it’s what we do. We are used to handling disaster, of having our careful planning disrupted by sudden fire-drills, or an unwanted invasion of wasps or bees in the classroom! We cope, we adapt, and we deliver.

But we tend to imagine that every lesson, except for our own, is perfect. We magnify the little hiccups, and imagine nothing productive has been achieved. If I know anything about teachers, and I’ve seen some terrible ones, and some great ones, most of us have been muddling along just fine. We have had days when only a handful of students have made contact, and we’ve felt like a complete failure. We’ve had our screens freeze and our Internet connection go down half-way through an almost full class meeting when we were just about to make a break-through, and we’ve despaired. But we’ve also had days in which things went OK, and students submitted work, and it was OK! And we’ve seen students make progress. Nothing whizz bang maybe, but the kind of slow solid progress that gets made and suddenly we wake up one day and realize how far we’ve come!

And we don’t have to compare ourselves to anyone else, especially the ones with the loud mouths. All we have to compare ourselves to is how far we’ve come and how much effort we have made. Some teachers have small children and spouses who work from home and elderly relatives and sick cats and we may have experienced loss. Some teachers have no Internet to speak of, or have to share devices. I’ve heard horror-stories about hard-drives packing in, or keyboards that stop working. We have all had our little moments of panic while teaching remotely. I have a small house and at times my wife, who also teaches, and I have had to out-compete with each other to be heard, while my sons have been on calls with their university lecturers next door! We have had to deal with any number of issues, while our normal routine has been disturbed and learning new things, all at the same time!

I sense that many teachers feel they have done a poor job either because they are comparing remote teaching with classroom teaching, or because they they are trying to stretch the boundaries of what online platforms can do too far. A great deal of teacher angst seems to revolve around the limitations of online assessment. How can you make sure the students all do the test at the same time, that they don’t cheat, that it’s not the parents doing the work? These are all valid concerns, but my advice would be to set aside all notions of doing exactly what you do in the classroom in the online space. Rather look at what the online platform allows, and focus on building learning experiences around the strengths of online platforms. Rigorous assessment is not a strength of the online space, so why stress so much about trying to replicate it online? Rather ask yourself if you really need so many tests or exams. Maybe a project submitted on trust that it is the student’s work is more than sufficient. If you set more collaborative projects and mentor students in online meetings you will have a good idea of what each student has done. Maybe online tests are not necessary.

Most of all, I believe that if teachers trust their own instincts, stop measuring themselves against some imaginary yardstick, and do what they can, they will be alright! More than alright!

 

 

Does The Great Onlining Offer Opportunities to move from Teaching Content to Teaching Thinking?

One often hears the view expressed that one of the benefits of the enforced move to teaching online is that it will entail a move away from teaching content, and open up opportunities for a new vision of teaching that foregrounds students’ problem-solving skills. One of the many educational trends that have been rained down on teachers like the ten plaques of Egypt, is the idea that content is outdated, and that what counts in the Twenty First Century is Problem-Solving or Thinking Skills. It is an idea that has become all pervasive. At every Educational Technology Conference I’ve ever attended, at some stage a keynote speaker will express this point of view. Especially if they come from industry. “What we need is not people with paper qualifications,” they say, “it is people who can think and problem-solve!”

But can thinking be distilled from all context and taught as something discrete? Knowledge is changing so fast, the argument goes, that it will become outdated as soon as you teach it, and therefore what we need to be doing is teaching students to think, rather than teaching them content. This idea is seductive because of course it appeals to a kernel of truth. Knowledge is changing really fast. What I learned about the structure of the atom in high school is certainly not what is taught today! And yet the notion that somehow education’s core business has suddenly changed is somewhat ludicrous. Did teachers not teach students how to think pre-millenium? What does thinking that is separated from content look like, anyway?

My own career as a teacher has been affected by this movement towards explicit teaching of thinking. I teach a class called Thinking Skills. In this class we use problem-based approaches together with introducing the Harvard Visible Thinking Routines and cognitive tools such as the De Bono Thinking Hats, David Hyerle’s Thinking Maps and Costa and Kallick’s Habits of Mind. These thinking tools and strategies are embedded in every school subject, but the purpose of the Thinking Skills class we do in our grades 8-10 is to give importance to thinking itself, and to provide a platform for explicit teaching of the range of cognitive tools we use across the school. I am in two minds about how effective this is as an approach. Thinking, after all, is always about something. Thinking divorced of content makes no sense, and thinking always has a context. How you think as an historian, a musician or as a scientist is different. Learning to think in one context surely confers benefit, and surely fuels habits and dispositions which are transferable to other contexts. But how this happens is not easy to pin down, or easy to demonstrate. Nor is it automatic. We assume that it happens, but we cannot definitively demonstrate that it does. We hope that an awareness of different cognitive tools, and familiarity with using different thinking strategies will improve our students’ thinking skills. We try to teach them to notice when they need to reach into their cognitive tool kits, and develop their capacity to reflect on their own thinking, and to become better at choosing appropriate cognitive strategies. But all the documentation in the world does not add up to proof that this is effective. And as much as I think the Thinking class I teach is useful, I do not believe it supplants Maths or English classes in any way. Students still need to learn to think like a mathematician, or think like an artist!

There is some anecdotal evidence of course, that our approach to cognitive education does work. Visitors to the school express amazement at how well our students engage with problem-solving tasks. As encouraging as this feedback is, it does not amount to proof. The benefit of an explicit Thinking course is not really about improving performance in other subjects, the aim is to improve the ability to think in any context. I think what students enjoy about it is that they get to think about real-world problems without the pressure of assessment or swotting. I think it is also important in that it signals that what the school values is thinking, and the development of thinking dispositions. I believe that this approach has benefits because solving problems helps improve the ability to solve problems. Not least it builds confidence in the ability to solve problems. As anyone who has ever tackled problems like crossword puzzles, for example, will know, once you start to understand how the puzzles are set, and develop strategies for solving the clues, the easier it becomes to work through the clues. And even a difficult seven across will be tackled with a level of confidence that it can be solved given enough time. The ability to solve crosswords does not necessarily make one a better problem-solver in another context, such as Chess problems. One can be quite good at solving one type of problem, but quite bad at another. In our class we try to tackle different types of problems and help students develop strategies and tools for approaching problems. The hope is that each student will develop a sizable toolkit of cognitive tools, and an awareness of which tools are good in different situations.

So, whilst I believe that teaching Thinking has value, I do not believe it can be done divorced from the curriculum. At my school the explicit teaching of thinking is limited, we wish it to be embedded in our curriculum, rather than becoming the focus of the curriculum. It would be lovely to believe that the move online would allow teachers to throw off the yoke of curricula and standardized testing and teach students to think, to problem-solve. Sadly I do not think that it does. It is rather naive, to believe that students, simply by doing an online project rather than more formal classes, will develop thinking skills miraculously. Thinking skills need to be carefully scaffolded and nurtured. Even in a Thinking class tasks are contextualised and we seek to draw students’ attention to opportunities for transferring their skills across the curriculum. As any teacher who has ever set an open-ended project will know, the success of the project depends on how carefully it was scaffolded and supported. Remote learning will not suddenly unlock hidden abilities in our students. If we want those abilities to emerge we need to put in the pedagogical work to develop them. And remote teaching is hard, it is hard enough teaching the regular curriculum.

Doing the kind of work needed to foster advanced thinking skills over Zoom?

I don’t think so.

 

Why Online Teaching is so Taxing!

Teachers who have been doing remote teaching over the last month or so report complete exhaustion. Not just because they needed to take time to re-design their curricula for remote platforms. Not just because they needed to record videos or re-purpose learning resources for an online platform. Not just because online assessment is a nightmare. But chiefly because of the exhaustion involved in conducting online lessons. And all this at a time when many teachers have to look after their own children and families, when they themselves are experiencing all the stress that we are all going through at this time.

So, why is online teaching itself so taxing? In the classroom you see your class for a set period of time, and you do what you can during the time you have with the class. Your energy goes into being present for your students, either in how you present content, or how you guide and shape their understanding of that content. You have to read the faces in front of you, notice who is beginning to goof off, who wants to ask a question, but needs encouragement, who has a puzzled look on their face, or who is clearly engaged in something else and needs re-directing. From the nods of understanding, or the expressions of sudden realization, you know when you can go on, or whether you need to try explaining something in a different way. You can judge whether or how long to wait after asking a question, or whether to rephrase it better. Face to face interactions require a great deal of work, and it can be exhausting in itself. Teachers suffer a great deal of cognitive overload. You have to keep not only the content you are teaching in mind, but also all the questions around how best to teach it. It is exhausting! But bells ring, and the day has an end. As exhausting as ordinary teaching may be, the week ends, and eventually the term ends. I have always thought that the length of a term is designed precisely to wring the most work out of students and teachers without completely destroying them in the process.

But online work demands a different level of presence. To be digitally present is to be available long beyond any scheduled lesson, worrying about those who never showed up to any online check-in, or who have missed a submission deadline. Teachers online don’t receive absence notes from parents explaining that a student is down with something, or will be away for a few days, but will catch up the work. Often all we have online is a silence that begins to prey on the mind. As emails expressing concern over a student missing in action go unanswered and days become weeks, the mind begins to invent all sorts of explanations, fears of all sorts and grieving for lost time and contact. Teachers are concerned about reaching all their students. But during a lock-down, if emails go unanswered, this concern can become all consuming!

Furthermore, students check-in at all hours of the day and night, with queries and concerns. I had one student ask a question at 2 am in the morning. There is far less of a switch-off point. If you are expecting students to work asynchronously, you more or less have to expect to maintain an asynchronous digital presence yourself. You may have announced that you will be keeping office hours, but if students have been missing in action, when they do pop up at an ungodly hour, it is hard not to respond immediately.

When you are teaching synchronously, reading the room is not easy, either. All the usual cues are largely missing. Facial expression and body language are harder to read, and a great deal more effort needs to go into understanding who wants, or needs to speak. Even managing conversations is more difficult with the false starts and technical glitches that bedevil meetings on Zoom, or whatever platform you are using. As someone who finds it difficult enough to read social cues under normal circumstances, learning how to do it all over again online is a nightmare!

All of these things make teaching remotely particularly taxing intellectually and emotionally. The cognitive load is much higher than in face to face teaching. It seems to me that the only way to cope with this added stress is firstly to recognise it, and secondly to begin to re-align our expectations and curriculum planning to accommodate this new reality. Most syllabi stress a relentless loading of content, breadth not depth has always been the name of the game. School administrators, districts and examination boards need to reassure teachers that the same coverage of content will not be expected during this period. Educational aims can still be met, but expectations around curriculum content needs revision. Is there really a need to study 18 set poems, perhaps covering 12 meets the same aims!? Perhaps one major piece of writing can be assessed rather than three? Perhaps some units of study can be left out, and more time spent on the remaining units?

We all need to go easier on ourselves, or teachers will be facing major burnout by the end of the school year!

 

 

The Importance of Teaching Media Creation Skills

There is an abiding myth that kids today are born digital natives. Anyone who has ever taught ICTs in any form will know that this is simply not the case. Digital skills very much have to be taught! Kay and Goldberg have described computers as a metamedium, a medium, in other words used in the creation of other media. As such it would seem axiomatic that computing should be taught to everyone. And yet this is far from the case. All over the world computing has to fight for a space in the curriculum. No doubt much of this contention stems from the expense of acquiring computing resources, and from securing adequately trained teachers. The great onlining of education has shown us the importance of computers as a medium of communication, but as a medium of creativity it can scarcely be less important. I have taught PhotoShop, Flash and Dreamweaver for many years, often in the context of web design, or game creation. I find that it is an excellent way to segue into coding for middle school students. Computers can be used to create all manner of digital content, but games are particularly alluring for students.

In this blog post I would like to walk through my thoughts about how the nature of remote teaching will have to change my curriculum and instructional design. I would like to cover the same basic concepts: namely photo-editing and game design introducing elementary programming procedures.

Starting with image manipulation in PhotoShop one can teach not only photo-editing skills, but also copyright issues. I usually teach students to use the Creative Commons Search Engine to find suitable images to use that are copyright free. There are many plarforms available for games creation. Up until last year I used Flash, despite the increasing difficulties as the platform becomes less and less supported. I have been considering using Scratch instead, but the seamless integration inside websites and the ability to run in a browser still made Flash a viable choice. My school had an Adobe licence, so justifying that expense was also a concern. I usually teach students how to create buttons in flash and use interactive behaviours. This requires starting to use ActionScript. We use existing scripts and learn how to tweak them. After a few tutorials I get the students to design their own games and then help them get it to work. The graphic shows one of the games created by students which depended upon drag and drop behaviours to work.

So, here’s my problem. I am due to start teaching this unit in May with my grade 8 class, and yet we are likely to be on lockdown, and I am wondering if it is a unit of work I can teach remotely. Certainly not with PhotoShop and Flash, as students are unlikely to have the Adobe Suite. But apart from the problem around access to the software and the necessary data or devices – most of my students use iPads if they do not have a laptop. This presents a number of problems. Firstly, I will be really sad not to have the linkage between image editing and games creation. Realizing that everything about remote teaching and learning takes longer, I will have to concentrate on the game design alone. For remote teaching an online Photo editor such as Photopea appears to work well. The crucial skill is removing a background and saving as a gif with transparency. I am not sure that I will be able to adequately support students through photo-editing online, and the games design, however. So I will have to play this aspect by ear.

In my experience getting students to the point where they can design their own games requires a good few basic tutorials teaching base skills, and then a great deal of scaffolding the process of discovery, especially where it requires coding beyond my own capacity! Tackling this online presents problems. It is difficult to help students debug their code when you can’t see their screen, or where you have to reconstruct it to test it on your own screen! It also needs to be something that can be done on an iPad if a student does not have access to a laptop or pc. It should also not involve any downloading of software or purchase of an app.

So I have decided to use Scratch on the MIT platform which works inside a browser, and apparently works fairly well on an iPad and allows students to use a free account. Students can also share their projects with others. This is crucial because I would like students to work in small groups. I usually get students to do a few tutorials online and then set the project as a group project. Working with groups might prove tricky during remote teaching and learning, but might also help overcome some of the isolation of working from home.

To test the versatility of the platform I created a quick pong game and a tamigotchi game, and it seems to me that Scratch works very well at enabling game creation. The platform also has tutorials which allow for students to work on their own, and develop capacity beyond any tutorials and tasks I create for the class. It also has an extension for the BBC micro:bit controller, which I use for robotics. I have not been able to explore this, but it seems to me that it creates some potential tie-ins, which is important. I also use the MIT platform for mobile app design with my grade 9s, so using Scratch on the MIT platform to introduce coding seems a good fit all round.

To my mind the key to instructional design in a case like this is to have a programme in mind which can be cut short, or can be extended, depending upon the time available and the capacity of the students. In this case the vagaries of remote teaching becomes a particular concern. I will write a follow up post after completing the unit.

Bibliography

A. Kay and A. Goldberg, “Personal dynamic media,” Computer, 1977, pp. 31-41.

 

The Great Onlining – What we have learned about Remote Learning

While questions of giving teachers and students technological access has been important, as Morrow (2007) has pointed out, the majority of students have formal access to school, but lack epistemological access – access to adequate knowledge. When schools were closed and the country went into lock-down shortly afterwards, the twin tiers of our unequal education system became terrifying visible. State schools and universities by and large went on early holiday, and little remote education was possible given the huge deficit in access to suitable devices, data or even electricity. As the lock-down continues, there seems to be little wriggle room around onlining education rather than keeping the schools closed and making up time later in the year by cancelling further holidays. On the other hand more privileged state and private schools went online, with varying degrees of success and were able to keep the school calendar intact. While there were challenges in getting devices and/or data to all teachers and students, much of the focus was on technical questions around which platforms to use to teach online rather than on access alone. This was a sine qua non. I am not convinced that all families had sufficient technological capital to cope with teaching and learning online. Parents and children often had to share devices and data. Internet connectivity was often slow and sites crashed, especially in the beginning when the large tech companies had to rapidly roll out resources to service the massive increases in demand. Many students had access to personal devices, but quickly discovered that an iPad or smart phone, while OK for completing tasks in the hybrid environment at school, were inadequate for the range of tasks expected of them when learning went online.

I honestly have no solution to the problem of giving adequate technological access to all students and teachers. This requires massive infrastructure investment by the government. While service providers have zero-rated certain educational sites, much of the country lacks the tech resources necessary to support online education and data costs are prohibitive. The teachers on the #ZAEdu twitter community have undertaken a number of initiatives to try and get zero-rated data costs on educational platforms and set up advice and assistance for teachers. Government and industry has been lobbied to take steps to enable greater access. This is vital work. But we also need to start to pivot towards thinking not just about how we get teachers and students online, but how we teach online in such a way that we can do something about reversing the trajectory towards increasing inequality. In other words we need to start moving beyond questions of formal access (to schooling, or internet infrastructure) to questions of epistemological access. If we do this right, we might be able to salvage something from the fire. It seems to me that those teachers who were able to teach remotely over this last three week period, or are starting now, have a huge role to play in terms of reflecting on effective pedagogies so that questions around the effectiveness of remote teaching and learning do not get ignored.

At the beginning of the year when teachers drew up their year plans, the assumption would very much have been that teaching would have been conducted face-to-face in the classroom. As these plans melt away, and teachers re-draw their plans, it becomes increasingly important to think very deeply about instructional design and pedagogy. If government and industry listens to teachers and starts enabling massive online access in South Africa, we as teachers need to be sure that we have figured things out so that the digital divide does not just shift from being about physical access to being about access to quality teaching online.

Those of you who follow my blog will know that I use Legitimation Code Theory (LCT)  as a lens for my research, and for understanding my own pedagogic practice. The LCT research Group at Wits University, led by Prof. Lee Rusznyak, this week held an online discussion around what LCT Theory has to tell us about remote learning generally and how we should be re-tailoring our curricula in the light of the Great Onlining. I would like to share some of this thinking, because I believe it is a useful intervention in the conversation right now. Having a theoretical perspective is important because it allows for a common language and tool-set for thinking about the problem at hand. LCT is particularly powerful in this respect because it looks at knowledge and knowing itself and allows us to use a common approach to thinking about how the nature of knowledge and of knowing impacts on education at every level, and across all fields.

But before getting into theory, I would like to frame this in terms of what I see to be the problem. As an overall comment, it is obvious that remote teaching, classroom teaching and specially designed online courses are three different animals. Each of these modes of pedagogical delivery has different sets of affordances and constraints. Put simply, there are clearly things you can do online that you can’t do in a classroom, and vice versa! Understanding these affordances and constraints is something that is largely dependent upon the subject matter being taught, and the context of each situation. One cannot make sweeping claims; the devil really is in the details.

Here’s an example.

One of the hardest things for me as a teacher of computer coding in middle school, large generalist classes, has been finding a way to help students debug their code. The initial teaching transferred quite nicely online via videos of live-coding on the interface. I used screen-cast-omatic to record my screen, with an inset of my talking head in one corner. The ability of students to pause and rewind and see my screen up close may even have been more effective than the same thing in the classroom via an interactive whiteboard. But pause and rewind is not the same as being able to ask a question or hear questions from peers that you hadn’t thought of. So I also had meeting check-ins on Teams in which I was available to answer questions and share my screen in response to queries. I recorded these so that students working asynchronously could also view this form of content delivery. But accessing student code to help them de-bug it was problematic. Most of my students use iPads and find the coding itself difficult on these devices. In class they use desktops. Sharing screens is awkward in Teams and helping students debug mistakes via email or the chat stream is definitely not the same as being able to see a student’s screen and help them notice where the error lies.

On the other hand, my colleague, who teaches programming to specialist, smaller high school classes has found it relatively easy to tackle these issues. Her students all have laptops rather than iPads, and see her every day rather than once a week! She has found that screen-sharing is much easier with a handful of students and makes debugging code easier! The devil is in the detail! Context is everything. Sweeping generalisations are not really that helpful. Nevertheless, we have to start somewhere.

What MOOCs have to tell us about remote teaching!

Massive online learning initiatives have a relatively long history now, and what they show us quite clearly, I think, is that the standard format of short videos delivering content knowledge with quizzes checking understanding works fairly well.  Lectures can be enlivened with graphics and visuals far more engaging than the normal chalkboard. Knowledge can certainly be presented comprehensibly, but possibly only if the students already have a good basic knowledge to build upon. The drop-out rate for non post-graduate students on MOOCs is massive. Modular stackable instructional design may work well if you have a knowledge base to stack upon, but may not work well for those seeking to build that base of knowledge. It seems to me that MOOCs are pretty good at extending knowledge, but not that effective at building knowledge. Those who believe that massive online content delivery to high school students can be built on expert teacher videos streamed across cell-phones are not thinking about the pedagogical work that needs to go with this. I have taken quite a few MOOCs over the years, of varying quality. To my mind what appears absolutely crucial is the digital presence of the teacher. The presence of the lecturer and/or Teaching Assistants is what really makes or breaks a MOOC. The use of online Google hangouts, social media chats or more formal check-in times allows teachers to help students navigate the content effectively. To build knowledge, students need to make connections and links between ideas, between abstractions and real-world examples, between simple building blocks and larger theoretical approaches. Students need help doing this, and unless the teacher invests a huge amount of pedagogical work in terms of being present digitally, MOOCs tend to fall short. As a general rule, though, there appears to be no reason why online delivery of content knowledge cannot be done effectively, albeit with caveats around difficulties in linking ideas.

What Classrooms have to tell us about remote teaching!

I think we also need to understand what classrooms do well, and where they fall short. Classroom interactions allow teachers to monitor students much more effectively than online platforms do. A teacher can literally see where students are engaged, and when they goof off, can monitor their progress on a task first-hand and intervene with much greater flexibility. They can not only respond to questions, but can also often sense when a student wants to ask a question, or can sense when something has not been understood. Teachers can gauge when to wait for a student response, and when to step in an answer the question, or when to rephrase it. In other words classrooms are pretty good at affording the reading of social cues, much more difficult, if not impossible online.

However, delivery of content knowledge is often compromised face-to-face by any number of factors. It is difficult for a teacher to compete with the graphic capacity of digital media, or to repeat content endlessly. There comes a point where the lesson ends, and it cannot be rewound or paused. If a teacher makes mistakes in presenting material, the moment can be lost. Videos can be more carefully scripted, rehearsed, edited or re-shot. While teachers can compensate for these mis-firings and interruptions, students often leave a class uncertain about what they have heard and no chance of a replay. There is a possible case to be made that classrooms are better at the social than the knowledge bits.

The following sections look at three key concepts within LCT. If you are feeling brave, or are familiar with LCT from previous blogs, then I would suggest reading what follows closely. If you are feeling less up to the task of difficult or new theory, I would suggest skipping the explanations and reading only the bits in italics.

What LCT has to tell us about remote learning!

I believe that the devil is always in the detail, and in the particular context, but I think it would be fair to say that the observations above about the forces at work online and in the classroom largely hold, or at least set out parameters that are useful in thinking about how to approach remote teaching. We need to recognize that the major strengths of online instruction revolve around effective delivery of content knowledge, but that social relations are severely constrained, while the major strengths of the classroom lie in affording social relations, but that content delivery may sometimes be constrained. Perhaps this is why research suggests that while classroom teaching beats online teaching, hybrid delivery equates with face-to-face in efficacy. In my normal practice I upload videos of all my lesson content which students can consult if they are absent, or if they need to: offering the best of both worlds?

LCT has a number of dimensions and each of them informs educational practice in useful ways, and I believe helps us to navigate the maze that is remote learning.

Specialization

A key concept within LCT, an approach developed by Karl Maton (2013) from the work of Pierre Bourdieu on Knowers and Basil Bernstein on Knowedge, is that of specialization, that different fields have different codes which represent what makes for legitimate knowledge in that field. Maton argues that all knowledge is made up of both knowledge (epistemic relations) and knower (social relations), but in different fields the emphasis is different.

  • In Science, for example, the knowledge is foregrounded. Who you are is relatively unimportant, having the knowledge is what legitimizes you as an expert in the field. It is a Knowledge Code.
  • In the field of English Literature, however, the rules of the game are different. What you know is far less important than having the right gaze, being the right kind of knower, having the right feel, the right eye for it makes you a legitimate knower. It is a Knower Code.
  • Relativist Codes are where neither epistemic or social relations are foregrounded, personal opinion is what counts in everyday discourse, for example.
  • Elite Codes are where both the knowledge and the ways of knowing are crucial: Music or Architecture.

From what we said about the affordances and constraints of online and classroom spaces above it would seem that different fields will experience code matches and code clashes when moving into an online space. Knowledge Code fields might find online environments offer more matches because knowledge is what is foregrounded. Knower code fields may find more obstacles because social relations are constrained. The devil will always be in the detail, and I am not saying that resourceful teachers will not be able to navigate these difficulties successfully and inventively. But they seem to me to represent underlying forces which inform online practice.

Teachers might be well-advised then when planning what to do during what might be an extended period of online teaching to take those bits of their syllabus which sit better with knowledge transmission than with knower building. An English teacher may plan to use Zoom meetings to read a text with their class, but then find half the class has not been able to get online, and the whole experience may become a nightmare. Perhaps it might be better to choose the more knowledge-heavy bits of the syllabus which can be tackled asynchronously if needs be.

Semantics

Another key concept within LCT is the dimension of semantics. The key idea here is that meaning can be analysed in terms of semantic gravity, how abstract or generalized an idea is or how concrete and contextualized an idea is and semantic density, how complex or simple an idea is. Research in LCT seems to suggest that cumulative knowledge building is predicated on movements over time between abstract and complex and concrete and simple called semantic waves. These waves could describe the course of a lesson, of a semester course plan, or a worksheet or student essay. Teachers need to make sure that these connections are being made regularly and in both directions.

For example, when a teacher explains a concept they will unpack the idea by explaining it in everyday language, giving concrete examples, using metaphors so that students can understand it. This movement between abstract and complex and concrete and simple represents what is called a down escalator. Essentially the teacher is mediating difficult concepts and helping students understand the concept by reformulating it in language and ways that are easier to understand. But cumulative knowledge building depends upon ideas being connected and understood as part of a larger whole. And upon students being able to take their raw understandings and repackage them in more academic language and understandings, in other words making up escalators.

Successful curricula describe semantic waves connecting the theoretical with the practical, the abstract with the concrete, the complex with the simple. Common semantic profiles are shown here. Often understanding remains at a theoretical level ( a high semantic flatline) or at a simple and practical level ( a low semantic flatline). Successive down escalators represents knowledge that is understood, but remains segmental, unconnected with new understandings built by students over time.

Any curriculum design would clearly aim at building semantic waves over time, connecting and consolidating knowledge, grounding theory in practice, grounding abstract ideas and concrete examples to further understanding. But online coursework may not offer affordances for this kind of cumulative knowledge building. While short videos unpacking single ideas are certainly do-able, the kind of pedagogical work necessary to sustain extensive cumulative knowledge building is heavily constrained online.

As Rusznyak has pointed out in the discussions around this held online at Wits, it may well be necessary to re-plan curriculum design to maximise the affordances of that portion of the year spent on remote teaching, and do the connecting of the semantic waves later in the year when classes resume in person. Alternatively some subjects may find it best to describe high or low semantic flatlines, and build semantic range later in class.

Since some portions of the syllabus might lend themselves better to different semantic profiles, teachers need to think carefully about how best to sequence and pace their syllabi.

Autonomy

The last dimension to be unpacked by LCT scholars has been the dimension of autonomy. I don’t want to go into too much detail here, because the discussion so far has been quite dense. But essentially autonomy looks at  the extent to which practices are inside or outside a field (strong or weak positional autonomy) and the purpose to which they are put (strong or weak relational autonomy). For example, in a Science class, the class might be doing Maths (which falls outside the field of Science), but it is being turned to the purpose of doing Science. Or in a Maths class the teacher might be talking about cricket (outside Maths) but using it for the purpose of understanding a parabola (for the purpose of Maths).

Several codes are described:

  • the sovereign code – for example doing Maths for the sake of Maths
  • the exotic code – content clearly outside the syllabus for purposes that have nothing to do with the curriculum
  • the introjected code – in which non-curriculum content is turned to the purpose of doing the curriculum
  • the projected code – in which curriculum content is turned to other purposes, eg. for the world of work

LCT research has indicated that good educational practice involves tours through different codes. For example using exotic material for sovereign purposes by introjecting, or projecting sovereign content, showing how it is useful in other purposes.

A concern has been raised that as teachers race to put material online for remote instruction, material will be positioned far too much in the sovereign code. This represents an all work and no play approach which has proven the kiss of death to much of the drill-and-kill type of digital content that has been produced for educational consumption. Teachers need to make sure that their online offerings retain the same kinds of introjection and projection that they employ in their normal classrooms.

Conclusion

This blog post has presented a great deal of dense theory, but I hope that the theory has been turned to the purpose of illuminating the kinds of instructional design decisions that teachers will need to make and the kinds of things they need to be thinking of as we move from thinking about the technology of teaching, and thinking more about how our pedagogical decisions can give students greater epistemological access.

Bibliography

Maton, Karl. (2013). Knowledge and Knowers: Towards a realist sociology of education.

Morrow, W. 2007. Learning to teach in South Africa. Cape Town: HSRC Press.

 

 
 
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