As a classroom teacher–and a deep-ender–I find myself always looking for ways to improve the way I teach.  This requires me to do some research and stay abreast of some of the latest techniques and tools.  And, as a technophile, I remember being particularly excited when I heard the term “21st Century Skills” for first time some years ago.  It reeks of laptop computers, interactive whiteboards, and education out of a futuristic sci-fi movie.

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photo credit: Kathy Cassidy

It seems that every day I read another article or blog post about twenty-first century skills, their merits, and the hype that surrounds them.  Some question the significance of skills that have been championed for decades, and others cringe at the use of buzzwords like “twenty-first century” and “digital natives”.  I have found myself on both sides of this issue, and seeking more information about it.

I just finished reading a new anthology that has opened my eyes to some of the biggest issues related to this idea, and really pushed my thinking on the topic.  It’s called “21st Century Skills: Rethinking How Student Learn”, and it includes chapters from the likes of Linda Darling-Hammond, Will Richardson, and Howard Gardner.  PLC experts, Rick and Becky DuFour have contributed and so have Problem-Based Learning guru John Barell and cooperative learning experts David and Roger Johnson.  You can find out more about the book at the publisher’s page here.  I am lucky enough to be moderating an online conversation with several of the well-known contributors. It’s sure to be both informative and a bit contentious.

Since we all have some sort of opinion about the future of education, I encourage you to bring your views and expertise and join the discussion June 16-19 on Voicethread.  Check back here for more information in the coming weeks.

Disclaimer: There is nothing like getting scooped by someone whom you respect.  I mean, you have to swallow your indignity and your jealousy and put on a good face.  I imagine it’s like showing up at the prom in a gorgeous dress, only to watch the most popular girl in school make her appearance in the same dress (looking better than you).  Check this out to see what I’m rambling about.  Thanks, Bill, for showing up right before me wearing the same pink chiffon.

I really wanted this to be one of those “reminiscing about a tough-but-loving educator to turned my life around” kind of posts to celebrate Teacher Appreciation Week.  I wanted to regale you with tales of a ship adrift in the water until a shining beacon illuminated the way.  I wanted to be able to share a story of heart-wrenching self-discovery at the hands of a veteran teacher who carefully guided me to find my true self.

But, here’s the thing: That’s never really happened to me.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had some FANTASTIC teachers in my 28 consecutive years in a classroom (learning and teaching).  I’ve known both seasoned and green educators who had a knack for making connections and engaging young people.  I look back with respect on many of them.

But, my ship never really drifted off course.  My path has been much more of a railway journey.  From an early age, I was encouraged to pursue certain tracks of study.  When I excelled in Science during middle and high school, I was recommended for more challenging college-level courses.  When I showed a penchant for research and presentation, graduate school positions (and Fullbright opportunities) were made available to me.  Later, when it became clear that my skills were best suited to teaching, I was lucky enough to enter a lateral entry program that got me into a classroom in less than three months.  There weren’t any detours or big blunders.

Along this journey, however, much like a passenger builds a scrapbook of sights seen and attractions visited, I’ve collected memories and lessons from those whom I’ve interacted with.  Some taught me that being quirky and a little strange can captivate teenagers (Thanks, Mr. Magnuson).  Others made me see that putting one’s nose to the grindstone can yield unimagined results (Hats off to you, Professor Liddle).  A few even helped me to see the invisible hand of politics in the decisions that large educational organizations make (All the best, Professors Shumway and Burkholder).

And one, more than any other, has demonstrated a path that (whenever possible) I’ve sought to follow.  He challenged me with a smile, and was casual enough to joke with students while commanding our respect for his tremendous body of knowledge.  To him, I say, thank you for the lessons that you didn’t have to teach.  I learned more from the way you live your life than from any lecture.

And I still have that aged bottle that you gave me at graduation.  I hear they only get better with age.

My good friend and fellow edublogger, Bill Ferriter, is hosting a Voicethread discussion with Rick and Becky DuFour around their newest book “Raising the Bar and Closing the Gap: Whatever It Takes”.  The conversation takes place May 19-21, so there’s plenty of time to pick up a copy of the book and join me and many other education folks on Voicethread.

You can find out more on Bill’s blog, The Tempered Radical, by clicking here.

This past summer, I enjoyed watching my 6-year-old explore the community swimming pool. When he was younger, he wouldn’t leave the 2-foot-deep section because he couldn’t touch the bottom, but last year he finally gained the confidence to float and swim in the area where he can’t stand up.  It was a significant moment for him, and for me.  He traded safety and familiarity for freedom and exploration, and I saw in him my own goals as a teacher.

Despite frequent opportunities and the inherent rewards associated with it, very few of my fellow teachers are willing to leave the shallow end of the pool when it comes to their profession.  Too many are accustomed to the comfort of staying within their classroom, continuing to teach the way that they always have, and communicating only with other like-minded teachers.  For those who work at this level, the world is small and everyone is a master teacher; and our vocation will not move forward until we can convince many more teachers to “cross the rope” and explore the rest of the pool. Read more »