If you are teaching remotely…

To the teacher who is struggling with personal, health or family issues, while showing a brave face on Zoom for remote teaching, you are seen.

To the teacher valiantly dividing attention between the needs of your students and your own children at home, you are seen.

To the teacher who is feeling isolated and disconnected  in these difficult times, you are seen.

To the teacher who worries about what everyone else is doing but has the courage to try something different, you are seen.

To the teacher who agonises over how to respond to the diverse needs of your learners, despite the challenges, you are seen.

To the teacher who agonises over how to respond to the diverse needs of your team, without jeopardising the learning,  you are seen.

To the teacher who agonises over how to respond to the diverse needs of parents, without compromising your beliefs about learning, you are seen.

To the teacher who finds the strength to change yet another thing in your approach to remote teaching, thereby making a difference to the learning, you are seen.

To the teacher juggling to balance the needs of students at home with those attending school, you are seen.

To the unassuming teacher who quietly gets on with things without complaining, you are seen.

To the teacher for whom technology is challenging, who persists to overcome this hurdle in remote teaching, you are seen.

To the new teacher who barely had time to learn the processes of our school and build relationships, before being thrown into remote learning, you are seen.

To the teacher who is filled with self doubt, always thinking you could have done better, not realising that’s how all good teachers feel, you are seen.

To all of you doing your best, despite the challenging circumstances, thank you.

(Written for teachers at my school, but applies beyond.)

Creativity benefits from constraints…

The generosity of educators, authors, artists, businesses and all manner of other unexpected sources, currently sharing their time and ideas via social media, is phenomenal… yet overwhelming. One can drown in the ocean of views on remote learning, examples of schedules, suggested activities, tools and platforms, ways of staying connected, tips for being mindful, advice for checking in with children, etc etc

Stepping away from it all gives me time and space to be creative and generate ideas.

Creativity benefits from constraints.

What if that was the focus of the learning? What if, instead of trying to replicate or reinvent school, we allowed this to be a time of creativity? What if we took advantage of the way limitations can encourage innovation?

What if these sorts of guiding questions were offered as provocations for teachers and students alike?

• • What might I design/ invent/ create that would entertain or help others?
  • What useful or aesthetically pleasing item might I create by recycling or reusing things that are no longer needed at home?
  • How might I record and share my own and others’ feelings during this time, in a creative way?
  • What am I fascinated by? How might I investigate it further through the lens of creativity?
  • What do I care deeply about? How might I make a difference to others right now?
  • What are my strengths? How might I use them to support others?
  • Who do I admire? What can I learn from them? How might I go about connecting with them?
  • What might I learn about that could change me? How might I use my learning to change others?
  • How might I document this moment in history in an interesting and creative way? How might I adapt this for different audiences?
  • If I could reimagine school, what would it be like?
  • If I could reimagine my class, what would it be like?
  • If I could reimagine anything, what would it be like? (a library, shoes, a sport, a kitchen, a museum, a book, a toy…)
  • What have I learned during this time? How might life be better as a result? Can I create a manifesto for my future?

What if the above questions were supported and extended by ones like these?

• • Who is my audience?
  • What is my purpose?
  • What questions do I need answered before I start?
  • What materials might I use that are readily available?
  • Which skills and dispositions will I need to work on?
  • What new things will I need to learn in order to achieve my purpose?
  • What experts might I turn to? How might I contact them?
  • What do I notice about myself as a learner?

What if we all viewed the limitations of our current context as an opportunity for creativity and innovation?

Reciprocal connections…

Which image represents who you are an educator?

It’s a check-in I often use in workshops as an ice breaker and a window into the beliefs of the people with whom I’m working.

I always choose the image of paper clips. There are multiple possible explanations but, most often, I talk about the value of being a connected educator, about how much I have learned through connecting globally with others to exchange ideas, collaborate, support and be supported.

No matter what workshop I lead, there will almost always be a time included for some or all of the participants to connect virtually with educators in the world beyond. Sometimes it’s because participants have questions about areas in which I don’t have expertise. Sometimes it’s to meet the needs of specific participants and give them opportunities to pursue their own inquiries. And, sometimes it’s to demonstrate the power of global connections.

I’m always extremely grateful to the educators who give of their time, often on weekends, to join in virtually and share so freely with others. Usually they are ‘my people’, the incredible leaders and teachers with whom I work at my own school. Often they are ‘my other people’ – the generous educators who are part of my online professional learning network, many of whom I have never met face to face, with whom I have a reciprocal relationship. But sometimes, they are people I don’t know at all, recommended by others or identified through my online networks. To those contributors, I am especially grateful.

And here’s the surprise… While I’ve always seen it as others doing me a favour, in particular the people whom I don’t even know, it turns out that they see it as an opportunity! They appreciate being asked. They are delighted to have the chance to talk about what they do. They like making new connections and extending their own learning. The fact that they need to share pushes them to clarify their own thinking and identify what matters. I hadn’t really thought about it in this way till I received messages like these:

“That would be a treat. Thank you so much for thinking of me. I love sharing what we do here in this corner of the world… For me, this is a wonderful opportunity.”

” I really enjoy those discussions and am happy to help again… The practice I get in situations like this could only possibly help me to come out of my shell more and share more about what I do.”

And now, the drama teacher whom I met at my previous workshop in India, who so enjoyed his virtual conversations with teachers in Brazil, Korea and China (the first time he’d had such experiences) has jumped at the opportunity to pay it forward by connecting with a drama teacher in a coming Australian workshop…

The power of being connected…

I was convinced the school had chosen the wrong workshop.

The pre-workshop survey indicated that teachers’ needs included things as disparate as drama teaching, physical education and inquiry in the early years. Their requests appeared to have little connection to the objectives of the PYP workshop I would be leading for them – ‘Get Connected: Engaging in authentic global learning practices.’

I confess to a degree of panic and several exchanges with the school’s coordinator in Mumbai to check if she was sure they had chosen the appropriate workshop. How would I possibly be able to cater for the diverse needs of drama and PE teachers, a counsellor, a French teacher, primary and pre-school teachers?

In the end, it was simple. Instead of trying to address all of those requests and instead of learning about getting connected, I made the decision to immerse them in global connections. All I needed to do, was to draw on my own network to demonstrate the power of global connections and networked learning. The Mumbai teachers would have access to a range of educators from different countries and fields… and agency to design their own learning experience.

Considering dispositions required both for the workshop and as global citizens

Reading blogs from educators around the world

Exploring early years inquiry with Mandy in Australia. (And Shana. And later Jennifer in China)

Discussing maths with Lana in Australia

Chatting about agency with Sonya in China

Connecting with Jina in Australia regarding differentiation and inclusion

Generating questions to ask the world…

We posted the teachers’ questions on a Padlet called ‘Ask the World’. By morning we had a broad range of responses from generous PYP educators around the globe! (Check it out.)

PE teachers – so excited to connect with Joel in Laos and Sandijs in China.

Deepak Sir exchanges ideas about Drama teaching with Vanessa in Brazil, Jolene in Korea and Freda in China.

Hearing about ‘Making writing’ and other literacy ideas from Jocelyn in Australia.

Finding out about the impact of global collaborations from Tali and Grade 2 children

Discussing how technology can enrich learning in younger years, with Pana in Taiwan

A Granny Cloud experience with Monika and Grade 8 at Diksha near Delhi

Mystery Skype with Grade 3s in Australia was a highlight!

Thoughtful educators considering what action they will take.

With tremendous appreciation for my local and global network (mostly PYP educators, in this case), many of whom I have never met in person, for generously sharing their time, ideas, experience, vulnerabilities and expertise so that others may learn and grow.

Kids communicating with kids…

“Hands on heads. Now shoulders. Where are your shoulders? Well done!”

This is the first time Jess and Tyler, two Aussie Year 6 students interact via Skype with preschoolers at KNB, Phaltan, as part of the Granny Cloud project. The little ones on the other side stare wide eyed at these two strangers on the screen. Who knows what they they are thinking!

On the Phaltan side, the session is facilitated by 13 year old Shruti, whose English and computer skills were enhanced by her own Granny Cloud experiences over a number of years. She confidently guides, encourages and translates as required. This is part of an experiment to introduce this kind of exposure at a much younger age to gauge its impact.

After a while, the children begin to warm up and join in, first one, then another, as Jess and Tyler slowly introduce the body parts and sing the song “Heads and Shoulders, knees and toes’. Their excitement is evident through their muttered exchange of observations in between… ‘Heads and shoulders… the one in white is joining in!.. knees and toes… oh wow look at the little one in the middle!.. heads and shoulders…they’re getting it!… knees and toes… look, look they’re all doing it!!…'” It’s an adrenalin rush that I recognise from my own Granny Cloud sessions, even now after all these years, that comes from a rewarding exchange with children when you see it’s going well and they are responding.”

After the session I ask the girls what surprised them. “How quickly they caught on. It was really awesome that we got to teach them. Can’t wait till next week!” And from the other side? Prassana, who’s researching the effects of early interactions of this kind: “It was wonderful. The little ones warmed up so quickly” And a text exchange between the girls…

 

Self challenge: A post a day for a week #2

Surprise in the cloud…

It should have been a disappointment that my School in the Cloud session is cancelled today, as I was looking forward to reconnecting with the girls at GGSS in New Delhi after their summer break. Instead I end up enjoying a delightful individual interaction with a surprisingly articulate twelve year old…

Jaya, the first student back at school after the summer, greets me with a ‘Hullo Mam’ and I wonder momentarily how we’ll manage to last the forty minute session in limited English, without a whole group to share the conversation. After a brief introductory chat about family and how much she enjoys playing with her three year old niece, I ask about the school holidays.

Jaya draws herself up and talks confidently about an organised school trip to various sites around Delhi. I’m captivated by her enthusiastic description of the hands on activities at the Science Museum, an exciting visit to  Chhatarpur Temple and an interlude at Indira Gandhi Park. She talks about her first ever encounter with soldiers, what she noticed and what she found out from them. She tells me about games they played in the park and offers to demonstrate next time when the girls are back at school. I’m impressed by her thoughtful commentary on what she observed and how she learned from each experience.

I ask Jaya whether she feels she learns more at school or through experiences such as these. We talk about the difference between this kind of experiential learning and the kind that happens at school (especially traditional Indian school) where the focus is on marks and tests. When poor sound or unfamiliar accents limit communication, we use written chat to confirm mutual understanding.

‘I think you can learn much more on your own,’ she says. I ask if she knows that Professor Sugata Mitra, founder of School in the Cloud, believes that children can learn by themselves. ‘It’s true,’ she says… ‘but you still need school and teachers to teach you other important things.’

When time is up, I congratulate Jaya on her English and tell her how much I’ve enjoyed our conversation. After the call, the site coordinator sends me a message to say how impressed the school is by the progress Jaya has made through these interactions.

Hours later I’m still thinking about the grace of this lovely young lady, her eagerness to learn and her appreciative retelling of the kind of excursion that students at my privileged school take totally for granted.

Once again I am reminded of the opportunities for mutual learning which these interactions create.

* If you’re interested in joining the Granny Cloud, read more and apply on the School in the Cloud website.

Why can’t school look like this?

The playground is covered in white and the children are pressed up against the window observing a new phenomenon. It’s hailing…

I know this because of a video posted on the regularly updated Facebook page, via which I observe my 16 month old grandson learning.

His environment can’t be called ‘child care’, as there is so much more than simply ‘care’ going on there, every minute of every day. It’s no coincidence that the Hebrew word ‘gannenet’ means both a preschool teacher and a gardener, since they both nurture those in their care and encourage them to grow!

The next batch of photos show a jug of hail being passed around so that all the children can observe and explore it. Some touch, some taste… each seems absorbed in their own discovery.

On other occasions, the gannenet posts unedited videos or photos of both planned and spontaneous learning experiences, of free play and interactions between the children, who are aged from several months to three years. The learning is made visible to parents and grandparents via these instant updates. Sometimes she includes comments and observations, other times I observe for myself. Either way I find it fascinating!

I know this is nothing special to early childhood educators, but I’ve always taught older kids. When my own children were young, I was probably too busy being a mum to observe the process of their learning in the way a granny can, so I find what she shares appealing on a number of levels, beyond simple pleasure at watching Shai’s development.

Passion for learning…

I’m a teacher and a learner, passionate about learning in all its contexts, so I value this opportunity to observe inquiry learning at its best – provoking young children’s curiosity about the world around them and standing by while they explore and construct meaning for themselves.

Beliefs about learning…

It’s interesting and validating to see evidence of my school’s learning principles in these tiny, natural learners. Inquiry comes naturally. They construct meaning and apply their learning in different contexts. They learn in different ways. They are actively engaged, the learning is social and often collaborative. I believe I can even see them thinking about their learning 🙂

Wondering about learning…

Observing the learning in this context makes me reflect on the typical school system and its limiting structures, designed for another era, within (or despite) which most of our students are expected to learn.

It makes me wonder:

• Why can’t schools have multi-age classes, where kids at different stages can learn with and from each other?
• Why are play, experimentation and exploration not valued more as ways of learning? (not just for little kids)
• Why doesn’t schooling include a blend of planned learning, natural inquiry and free choice?
• What if lessons stopped when opportunities for authentic learning occurred in the environment?
• Why isn’t the process of learning shared regularly online, rather than via official reporting at the end of a semester?
• Will there ever be a time when learning is assessed, not by comparative grades, but by teachers’ thoughtful observation and students’ ability to express their learning in multiple ways? (even in high school) 
• What if all teachers in all schools valued curiosity and creativity more than compliance and completion of work? 

Thank you, Shai’s gannenet!

Kids in the cloud…

‘Can you do a dance for us?’ 

‘Join in. Copy us’…

The connection with the School in the Cloud lab isn’t very good today – the picture is choppy and it’s difficult to hear some of the time. None of this deters the girls in either Delhi or Melbourne and they find ways to communicate despite the limitations. They are persistent, they keep calling again when Skype drops out, they type in the text box, wait patiently for responses, add emoticons and… they dance the Macarena.

This is my favourite aspect of being involved in Sugata Mitra’s School in the Cloud project.

I really enjoy my sessions as a ‘cloud granny’ and have, over the years, learned a great deal from my interactions with kids in less advantaged settings in different parts of India. I find it satisfying being involved behind the scenes, interviewing prospective e-mediators and giving feedback about the new website. I have developed some wonderful friendships with others involved and it’s been fascinating to follow the progress of the project over time and to see Sugata’s TED prize dream come to life, but…

Watching kids from different countries and cultures connecting and finding common ground, despite differing beliefs, languages and backgrounds, beats all the rest by far.

Adjusting expectations…

‘Do you have any questions?’

‘No, Ma’am’.

I’m interacting via Skype with Grade 8 students in a SOME session at Ashraya Neelbagh, a residential school for children of migrant labourers near Bangalore and, to my surprise, I’m not finding it all that easy!

When I first began to interact with Indian kids in this way, it took a while to overcome the obstacles, to understand their context and to adjust my expectations. You can read about my early sessions with SOLEs and SOMEs here and here. Once past that initial stage , my experience of such sessions with SOLES  in the past couple of years has usually involved a bunch of enthusiastic, noisy children gathered around the computer, often all talking at once. In one case, it led to a series of valuable learning interactions between some of my own students in Australia and a group at a rural school in Shiragon, 100kms from Goa. Despite the differences in language, environment, culture, economic background, and religion, they found much in common.

This is the first time I have worked with a group in an organized setting such as Ashraya, and it feels more like a school class… albeit a very different type of class than the ones I am used to in my own setting. The children sit in rows on the floor, listen attentively and respond when spoken to with a ‘Yes Ma’am’ or ‘No Ma’am’. They look towards Rajkumar, the volunteer facilitator on their end, every now and again for clarification or reassurance or both.

In my first two sessions, I call them to the camera one by one and ask them individual questions about their families, their favorite subjects at school and the festivals they recently celebrated. They respond willingly and I make a few notes beside their names on my list to help me personalise our connections. I notice 14-year-old Marlinga, right away. He tells me he loves Maths because it’s like a game. It’s different from the other answers, which are polite, short and to the point. He’s the only one who really responds when I ask why a particular subject is their favourite. Is it because his English is better than theirs? Or is he is just a little more confident than the others in interacting with this strange, foreign woman?

When I ask if they have any questions for me, they say ‘No ma’am .’  I share pictures of Australian animals which they appear to enjoy. I show them where I am on the map compared to where they are and they answer my questions about their area. I show them photos of kids at my own school. They seem interested, but have no questions. I am a bit at a loss as to where to head next. I wonder what interests them and how to move past their polite responsiveness.

We talk about games and they tell me what sports they play. They mention a game I am unfamiliar with, and Marlinga tries to explain. When I ask if it’s played with a ball, he says yes and there is a bit of quiet laughter. I ask if they can share what’s funny and after a little resistance, they reveal, with help from Raj, that it is not played with a ball. He has simply said yes, because it’s easier than trying to explain. They show me the sort of stone they actually use and when I laugh, they all laugh with me and  the ice seems to have broken… for now. I ask them to demonstrate the game. They get up and kick the stone around, laughing and chattering as they show me. I feel optimistic, but I know that next time they will be back on the floor in rows, listening, waiting and responding politely…

I need to be respectful of their context and of cultural expectations. Communication is somewhat restricted by language limitations, differences in accent and the Skype connection. But I know I need to find ways to get them to relax a little (me too) , to ask questions and to engage in a two-way conversation. And I know I can’t do this the way I would at my own school…