Monday, May 28, 2018

Three important growth mindset lessons for teachers ...from skateboarding

I imagine you would be hard-pressed to find a teacher in New Zealand who has not heard about growth versus fixed mindsets (see the video below if you haven't yet). Most of us have a poster or two about in our schools or classrooms. we have used it to encourage struggling or frustrated students. Some of us have even used the posters to remind ourselves from time to time to keep at a task when it seemed impossible, challenging or daunting.

I was reminded this weekend of a few important growth mindset lessons. I went along to my first all-girls skateboarding class today. The class is aimed at women eighteen years and over. After getting my elbow and knee pads, helmet and wrist guards on, I picked up my new skateboard and prepared for some new learning. Now you would be forgiven for thinking that I am sporty and co-ordinated. I'm not. In fact, I am all uncoordinated limbs that constantly suffer the impact of my limited spatial awareness. And this skating thing? I tried it for the first time about two years ago. So we are talking real beginner here. And on top of this, my lack of participation in a sport before this means I have few muscle memories to help ease the transition.

As I practiced my tic-tacs (turning by lifting the front of the board as shown in the gif below), it occurred to me that I had forgotten some of the important lessons about growth mindsets in the way that I was planning my lessons.

Image result for skateboarding tick tack gif

Lesson 1: Play
How often do we give students a chance just to play? How often do we structure, scaffold and constrain students? Particularly at secondary schools? How much science is done with instructions, rather than as explorations? Yet, we know that much learning happens through play whether you are an adult or a child. In my skateboarding class this morning, I was reminded of just how different my attitude is to play than it is to work. I tried different strategies, I practiced things so that I could feel confident about moving on to try something else. I tried stuff and failed, and tried again because there was no real risk involved. How often have we wished that our students would keep trying, or would search out new strategies? Yet how often do we give them the chance to play? Perhaps if I gave my students more time to play, they might seize the reduced risk environment to fail safely and try again.

Lesson 2: Choose your level
I watched in admiration at the other women who attended the skate session with me. One of them was teaching herself to drop in from increasing heights on the ramps available. Another one was practicing getting over the lowest ramps for the first time. I was practicing turning (I am not an ambiturner yet). If I had tried the drop in on day one, things would have ended badly. I would most likely have felt terrified and not very successful. At the same time, if the more advanced skaters had to practice how to do a basic turn like I was, they would most likely have felt frustrated and bored. Chances are, all of us would have gotten distracted and off task if the learning wasn't pitched at the right level for us. This was an important reminder that often in schools we make assumptions about someone's fixed mindset when in reality it is the learning that is not pitched at the right level for the students. The emotional roller coaster of learning a brand new skill reminded me that it is time to break out my professional readings about the zone of proximal development again.

Lesson 3: If you are not falling, you are not trying hard enough
Between tangles of limbs, high speed, and attempting to lift the front of the board off the ground while turning, and staying balanced, falling is pretty much inevitable. In fact, it almost feels like you are not trying hard enough if you turn up with knee pads that are not scuffed. Also, I have yet to meet a skater who is content and isn't working on a new trick. This too had me wondering about school. Just how much is failing encouraged in your school or classroom? It seemed to me that the contrast between learning to skate and learning at school was massive. You arrive at skating expecting to fail, accepting that you won't make progress if you don't take risks. All skateboarders can regale you with tales of their injuries and epic falls. Watch any skating contest and you can see how people fall, get up, and try again. Yet, even in the most growth mindset orientated classroom or school, there are so many systems, traditions and behaviours that actively discourage the kind of risk-taking in learning that skate culture seem to be made of. I have yet to sit around with a student and compare notes about how we both failed something at school or university.

So this week as I plan my classes, I intend to include a whole lot more focus on these three lessons. To start with, we are going to play with virtual reality. No scaffolding, no tasks, just time to play. I will plan time to share and celebrate the mistakes we make and get the chocolate fish ready as rewards! I think the stop-motion films we are making about plate tectonics is a perfect context for this. And finally, I'm going to adjust my exit slips for the week to give me feedback about whether I pitched the various parts of my lesson in that sweet spot between can and can't. I think a renewed focus on differentiation is just what the doctor students ordered.

PS: If you are in Auckland, 18+ years old, and a female, feel free to join me on Sunday mornings at 11am for OnBoard Skate's all girl skate session. 

Is your #transport to work as #ecofriendly #healthylifestyle or as #fun as mine? #climatechange #longboard #girlswhoskate

Wednesday, April 18, 2018

A very old bun fight. Education philosophy and current debates in New Zealand education.

If you have been following education news in New Zealand lately, then you know that debate is in the air. Perhaps you have seen the PPTA’s article called Curriculum wars: coming to Aotearoa? Or maybe you have read Elizabeth Rata's article The basic flaw in our education system. You may also have read the report from (newcomer?) Briar Lipson and the work she was involved in with the New Zealand Initiative Think Tank.

You may even have been part of the discussions on Twitter. However, before the debates get too heated, I wanted to take a moment to point out the redundancy of this supposed 'curriculum war'. You might be saying whoah! Redundancy? That’s a bold claim! Well actually...

Any ideas when the quote above was written? Or who wrote it? It seems to capture the current debates about knowledge vs skills vs competencies vs other-edu-jargon quite well don’t you think? The OECD (Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development) might suggest that students should learn things that will be useful in life, things that will give them jobs so that students are able to contribute to a stable economy. The United Nations might argue that a focus on virtue and character of the soul is critical if we are to maintain world peace in the face of climate change, radical inequality and the ever-increasing impact of automation. I would hazard a guess that Elizabeth Rata would be more interested in developing intellect than virtue. I suspect that Jane Gilbert possibly would have a different argument altogether. Where do you think Francis Valentine might fall? Or what about Michael Absolum and John Hattie? What about Aristotle? After all, he is the author of this quote. The very same Aristotle from 384 BC. It seems the progressives vs traditionalist bun fight stretches back a very, very long time.

With so many opinions in the air, it is easy for debates to become polarising (especially when they are made out to be 'wars'). The cognitive dissonance sets in and before you know it, nobody is learning anything because we are too busy defending our position. And at the end of the day, the heart of the matter remains unaddressed - the fact that we cannot seem to agree what should be learnt at school.

To understand why we are plagued with this never-ending debate, one needs to understand the three philosophical purposes of education, socialisation, qualification and subjectification. (See a more detailed infographic here, or my post, Education's great wicked problem for more in-depth explanations about these).

While most of us can find some agreement with each of the three purposes of education, philosophically these ideas are “fundamentally irresolvable” (Biesta, 2009; Egan, 2001). This means that our entire education system is built on conflicting ideas that are constantly in the midst of a tug of war. This means that debates about the success of the education system are incapable of reaching a consensus, as different parties inevitably prioritise different purposes of education (Kieran Egan does a marvellous job of explaining these ideological conflicts).

Despite these conflicting ideas underpinning most, if not all debates about educational success, they are rarely acknowledged, and so the bun fight has continued for literally centuries. You will possibly recognise these debates in your context too, play (socialisation) vs literacy and numeracy (qualification, or exams (qualification) vs inquiry-based learning (subjectification), etc.

So if the debate about what we should be teaching our students is old and philosophically unresolvable, then what is the point of debating this at all?!

I don't have a whole lot of answers to offer you. Instead, I will conclude with a few questions that I would like to see debated...
  • How useful is it to publish articles titled curriculum wars in these debates about the future of our schools? Does calling it a war (rather than a debate or discussion) polarise, and thereby fuel the bun fight?
  • What does helpful debate and discussion look like (as compared to unhelpful, polarising debate)?
  • How can one school or one teacher serve our super diverse communities when each of us cuts the socialisation/subjectification/qualification pie so differently?
  • Should socialisation, subjectification and qualification all be the responsibility of school? And if yes/no, what should we do about it?
  • How different might our debates in education be if we were all more explicit about which purpose we align ourselves with?
  • If we developed an alternate purpose for education, what would it be?
  • What if the 'educational experience' was completely redesigned, from the bottom up? What if we changed the time, the place, the content, the funding, the ratios, the jobs, everything? And where would one even begin?
  • Would our schools and classrooms be any different if all teachers and school leaders had a richer understanding of philosophy? 

Thursday, February 22, 2018

Culturing culturally responsive pedagogy

Honouring New Zealand's bicultural partnership is important, but how do you find a way to include it authentically in the senior science classroom? I am sure that many science teachers would agree that it can be difficult to do this, and make their way through all the content and assessments. I know that I have certainly struggled! Many of us make small efforts, we might include a few token te reo words in our lessons like "e tū" and "tumeke". If you're lucky, you might see the Māori names for tripod or bunsen burners up around the room. But usually we get straight back to talking about old white men, Darwin, Newton, Rutherford, Mendel and Mendeleev.

Of course for many of us, our classrooms have become increasingly diverse too. In just one of my classes this year, I have students from China, Korea, Japan, Samoa, Phillipines, Indonesia, Samoa and Australia. There are also students born in New Zealand however many of their parents were born in other countries, so they bring cultural mixes like Italian, English, German and Turkish to the mix too. So while I am trying to honour New Zealand's bicultural partnership, I am also trying to accommodate a huge variety of cultural diversity in the classroom. And then, we haven't even talked about diversity and learning needs yet!

The challenge is of course not easily solved. While many schools have International days with cultural performances and students in their national costumes, this is not enough to help our young people feel that their cultures are valued at school. We have to shift from accommodating and tolerating cultural diversity (if we even do that...), to making this a critical resource for success in academic contexts. How else can you show that cultural knowledge matters?

Now, I am no expert where culturally responsive pedagogy is concerned. But, I have been thinking really hard about how I can design academic courses that create the space for students to leverage their cultural knowledge to improve their academic success. I have also thought carefully about "demonstrating a commitment to tangata whenuatanga and Te Tiriti o Waitangi partnership in the learning environment" (from the new Practicing Teacher Criteria). I have thought about this carefully not because I am obliged to as a professional, but because I believe it is necessary if I truly wish to see success for all my students.

So after all this thinking, what have I actually come up with? Well... A fermented food shared lunch. Let me explain...

I am teaching a microbiology course this semester. We kicked off the year by asking each student to write a report on a fermented food from a cultural heritage they identify with (task sheet). In a fortnight's time, they would then have to bring the food to our class fermented foods shared lunch.
Many students were really unsure about the cultural aspect on day one, so I encouraged them to talk to their families. A number of students called their grandparents to talk about their cultural heritages, while others called an aunt, uncle or parent. And incase you are wondering, yes I did let them make phone calls in class. Some students even arranged to go and visit grandparents so that they can learn how to make their fermented food. 

Rewena bread -  traditional Māori sourdough potato bread (and absolutely DELICIOUS).

On the day of the shared lunch, each student had to make a name tag to accompany their food. This included details about country of origin, microbes used to produce the food, and allergy information (see template). They also had a task sheet to fill in as they tried the wild assortment of food we had.

We really had quite the selection!

The task sheet required them to try at least five foods, and to describe each one (see task sheet here). Finally, the students had to pair up with someone who focussed on a different microbe than the one their food was made from, and then had to complete a compare and contrast thinking map (see the template on the second part of the task sheet).

I asked a student what she thought about my rather crazy fermented foods party idea after our lunch. Her response: "I understood more about my culture and it made me understand more about my class". Others commented that they had "connected" with their culture.

As for me... I was really excited to see students using their cultural knowledge to access the science knowledge and vica versa. I was excited that students were not just learning from me, but that the knowledge from their families had a place in our classroom too. Of course, I am a huge foodie so I was excited about all the new foods I got to try too, but more importantly, we all got to share a little bit of our cultures with each other too.

While today may have been full of warm fuzzies as we talked about our families and food, there is an important question now circling in head. What next? Because a few thoughtfully designed lessons at the start of year is not enough to be culturally responsive.

Tuesday, January 30, 2018

Smog, whispers and mystics

I started this post a week or two ago. There were just so many thoughts flying around my head that it took some time before they all made sense enough to share...

Today was one of those once in a lifetime, take your breath away kind of days. It was full of elation, endorphins and adrenaline. We started the day at 4:30am where we saw a sunrise over Annapurna in the Himalayas (if you're not familiar, this includes the tenth highest peak in the world). At first, only the very tips of the peaks began to glow. As the sun rose, the whole valley lit up. I have only experienced one other moment like this, an experience that words don't begin to describe, cameras can't capture and even your emotions don't feel sufficient. This was that kind of sun rise.  
Sunrise view of Anapurna

Following on from this stunning sunrise, I went paragliding for the first time. Today I literally soared with the birds over the Himalayas. 

Paragliding over the Himalayas 

In the afternoon we were rowed across the lake in Pokhara. From here we climbed many steps to a Buddhist peace pagoda where we saw the sunset over the Himalayas. The peaks of Annapurna were again highlighted in beautiful shades of pink. 

View of the lake in Pokhara

View from the peace pagoda in Pokhara

I also spent 90% of this incredible day in silence. On the first day of this fellowship we each had the opportunity to write down a pledge. My pledge was that I wanted to listen more and talk less. In a place filled with so much spirituality, watching the sun set while standing at the peace pagoda, overlooking the glowing Himalayas, it would have been easy to interpret losing my voice as something mystical. The explanation is actually far more sinister...

For two whole days I completely lost my voice due to a bad chest infection I picked up in Kathmandu. Chest infections are very common in Kathmandu because of the extreme levels of pollution. Many of the teachers we worked with were surprised that some of our fellows were over sixty. They explained that the extremely high levels of pollution here means that not many people live past sixty. While we were in Kathmandu, almost every day the smog levels were classified as dangerously high. A number of factors contribute to these incredibly high pollution levels. For example, Kathmandu is located between the mountains. On winter mornings, a thick layer of morning fog traps the smog inside the city. This is aggravated by the many brick factories that surround Kathmandu, and the incredibly high levels of fossil fuels that are burnt here on a daily basis. Public transport is extremely limited, many people use fossil fuels for cooking, and cars are badly maintained. 
The smog over Kathmandu
Rice paddy in Pokhara

The view over Annapurna was breathtaking, figuratively and literally. Climbing to the peace pagoda whilst still having a chest infection was quite the challenge. I literally had to rest every ten steps, my chest ached, my throat hurt, there may have been the occasional dizzy spell and some nausea. I got to the top though, and the view was 100% worth it. While these sights were breathtaking and awe inspiring, this was mirrored by an intense sadness. While most likely these were once in a lifetime experiences for me, I was reminded of just how accurate this statement is. Our guide explained that in the twenty years that he has been working as a guide and sherpa, the glaciers have been reduced to half their original size. While I may come back to Nepal some time in the distant future, chances are that the glaciers will have shrunk even more as we continue to burn fossil fuels and an alarming pace. Sooner than we care to admit, there may be no more snow capped peaks in the Himalayas. 

In New Zealand classrooms, we learn about pollution and climate change. In Nepal, this is already their lived reality. While we argue about whether petrol should include additional taxes to pay for public transport, fossil fuels are literally reducing the lifespan of the people in Nepal. While we enjoy our steaks and lamb roasts (and probably complain about the price), the people in Nepal are already suffering because changing climate has already impacted the production of their food crops - frequently their only supply of food and income. While we are arguing about what 'cleaning up our rivers' actually means in New Zealand, the streets in Nepal are filled with water trucks that use fossil fuels to carry drinking water to the people. A great many number of people still have no running water. And of course, tap water is certainly not drinkable.
There is no shortage of ways that our quality of life in New Zealand (and many other Western countries) leaves Kathmandu in the dust (pun unintended). We have everything from high levels of female literacy, a stable democracy, power, water, food, social benefits, good medical care and toilets. What is alarming however is that much of what we take for granted in New Zealand, actually contributes to the reduced quality of life for those people in countries like Nepal. We drive our excessively big cars to the supermarket to buy food that wasn't produced in New Zealand. We keep on eating meat, we keep on buying things we don't need. We keep burning fossil fuels because it is convenient, while more and more people around the world will suffer and struggle as climate change affects their critical food production. A critical lesson about climate change that we often forget is that it is not the most affluent of us that will be most affected. It is those communities already struggling for survival. 

As my fellowship here in Nepal draws to a close, I hope that I carry the extreme contrast of Kathmandu with me forever. While New Zealand students are learning about dystopian futures, in many places around the world this is their every day lived reality. I hope that at every moment I remember the enormous privileges and opportunities we are afforded in New Zealand, particularly in our schools. I hope that in 2018 and beyond, I not only appreciate these privileges and opportunities, but that I seize these to make a difference where I can. 

*All photos my yours truly (and the paraglider instructor). Please do not reproduce without attribution.  

Friday, January 12, 2018

New friends and lifelong memories.

We have now completed our first teacher conference here in Kathmandu. The four days working with one group of Nepali teachers was pretty spectacular. We started on day one with a quiet group who did not know each other. However, over the four days of the conference, together we discussed openly and honestly the challenges that we all face as teachers. As a result, we all learnt so much from each other. While the entire conference was great, there were definitely a few highlights for me.

We had a great afternoon going over 'relaxed vigilance' strategies for behaviour management. We really got into it with some role play where the teachers pretended to be naughty students for each other so that they could practice these new strategies. Our group was so keen to learn more, that they decided not to have afternoon tea but to keep learning about restorative justice instead.

Another huge highlight was seeing one of our teachers who was super quiet on the first day, really participate, discuss, laugh and ask lots of questions by the last day. I felt humbled and honoured by the honest sharing and the risk taking from this teacher. I am sure that they will be in my memories for a long long time. I was also honoured by the kind words from one of our students who was asked to make a speech to the whole conference.

We finished the first conference with a very long closing ceremony that involved many long winded speeches (at least, this was the 'translation' from one of the Nepali teachers). However, following this our group of eight teachers borrowed some official banners (without permission), and pulled us back into our classroom to have our very own ceremony for handing over their certificates. We laughed and clapped an took many photos. After this, our students sat us down and handed us each a wrapped package. They had  printed a photo of our group and framed it in a traditional Nepali window frame. Anna, Steph and I were truly touched by their thoughtful gift. Even more exciting, this amazing group of teachers have decided that they will continue to meet after the conference to support each other in implementing the new strategies they had learnt. As far as I'm concerned, this is the best possible outcome from this conference; building a sustainable professional support network for the passionate teachers of Nepal.

Wednesday, January 10, 2018

Some things are universal

Today we had the third day (out of four) working with a group of Nepali teachers here in Kathmandu as part of an LRTT Fellowship. The past few days have been incredible, and I am so grateful for this opportunity. 

I am currently reading The Culture Map. The book details some of the more subtle cultural differences that can get in the way of working successfully across cultures. This has been a great read whilst being fully immersed in a culture so different from my own. While in my culture shaking your head from side to side means no, here in Nepal it means yes. If I had not known this prior to working with our Nepali teachers, I may have misinterpreted much of our communication. While I feel that we have worked really hard to communicate across cultural boundaries, I can't help but wonder how a more in depth understanding of cultural differences may have helped us be more successful. One of the activities we did today, was to ask the group to arrange themselves in order of birthdays. Everyone had to be completely silent and had to do this through gestures, facial expressions, mime, etc. This was a great reminder that while some gestures are universal, others are definitely not. Gestures that might seem obvious to one cultural group, might mean nothing to another.

Working across a language barrier can also add in additional challenges. This week has made me painfully aware just how tuned we become to certain sounds. I have been trying very hard to pronounce the names of each of the Nepali teachers, however, I just can't seem to make the right sounds! In our tiny classroom, there have been at least three different English accents in the room. Sometimes we talk too fast, sometimes we use too big words. We have skipped and sometimes stumbled our way over educational jargon.

Yet, despite these differences, we have somehow managed to come together as a group. We have laughed together and learnt together. Because luckily, some things are universal...
Yesterday, Anna, my LRTT co-teacher/fellow did a model music lesson. It was a gold standard lesson. It was carefully scaffolded, fun, and she did great progress checks along the way to establish learning. By the end of the lesson, even I could vaguely keep a rhythm and clap the different beats. Anna also taught us an Israeli wedding song and dance. That means two Australians, a New Zealander, and eight Nepali dancing an Israeli wedding dance together in Kathmandu. We laughed, and danced, and clapped. It was wonderful. It was also a critical reminder that regardless of how different our backgrounds and context, some things are universal. Music is one such thing. It can transcend time and place to bring us together. 

Music of course is not the only universal way to bring people together. I had great fun learning a game from our Nepali teachers and students today called coco (not sure about spelling). Just like music, games also have a way of transcending cultural and social boundaries. While I was reminded of this at the NZCER Games for Learning conference earlier this year, this week has really made this sink in. Games have the potential to bring people together. It helps us find a common ground, build relationships and share our cultures. The explicitness of rules help us to navigate and explore new and different social boundaries.

With the last day of our conference tomorrow, I will certainly make sure there is time for at least one more game and one more song.

Tuesday, January 9, 2018

First day reflections - A global community!

On Sunday we had our first day working with Nepali teachers. Limited Resource Teacher Training (LRTT) and their local partner organisation VIN (Volunteer Initiatives Nepal) have organised a 4 day conference for approximately 100 Kathmandu teachers. These teachers are then split into groups of about 10. Two or three of the LRTT fellows then work with one group of ten teachers for the four days of the conference. I am really enjoying this format as it gives the opportunity to design the conference around the teacher's needs. It also provides the time to really get to know each other and have some genuinely robust conversations.

We started the first day of this conference with an opening ceremony. Various Nepal leaders spoke about the importance of this opportunity. Rachel, one of the team leaders from LRTT gave a fabulous speech too. After this the whole group of LRTT fellows, made up of mostly Australians, a handful of kiwis, and a few people from the United Kingdom got up and sang a waiata we had taught everyone the night before. Sarah, one of the kiwi fellows then explained the meaning of the waiata. It was beautiful. One of the Australians remarked later in the day that they felt proud to be a little bit kiwi today.

I am really lucky to be working with two fabulous teachers here, Stephanie and Anna. They both bring the most incredible sets of experience and expertise. Anna is an encyclopaedia of folk songs. Stephanie also dabbles in politics where she is an elected councillor. Both are deeply passionate about education.

Using the Question Race game to generate questions.

The sessions we ran with our Nepali teachers on day one was largely focussed on getting to know them personally and professionally. As a result, we had SO many great discussions! I found a kindred spirit in one gentleman who wanted to revolutionise education, and another in an enthusiastic woman who was interested in global citizenship and creativity.

We used the Question Race game to help identify the areas that the teachers in our group wanted to focus on over the course of their training.

Our group of teachers identified student motivation, behaviour management and parent engagement as issues that they would like to learn about throughout the conference. These are the same things many of the teachers in New Zealand, Australia and everywhere else struggle with. Perhaps one of my key learnings from the first day working with the awesome Nepali teachers, Australian teachers, New Zealand teachers and those form the United Kingdom, is that we really are a global community. We are never alone in our journey to do the best for our students, and if we reach out to learn from and support each other, there is so much more that we can accomplish.  

Friday, January 5, 2018

Tea with a monk and sunset with a monkey

Today was the third day of my LRTT fellowship in Nepal. We started the day by getting stuck in Kathmandu's crazy traffic. The roads are full of pot holes, wild driving and so much dust!

Our first stop was a Buddhist monastery school. We were served delicious sweet tea and biscuits, while learning about the school from the monk who has worked as the principal for the past few years. The school moved to Kathmandu from another site after the disastrous earthquake here in 2015. As a result, many of the students are orphans. The school provides everything for students, books, pencils, food, accommodation, etc.

We also had a chance to observe a maths lesson. Students sat in rows and watched their warm and friendly teacher explain percentages. Interestingly, all the textbooks that we saw today were in English. Yet, when speaking to students and teachers, their English was fairly limited. While observing the maths class, I also managed to disrupt the lesson accidentally... I asked a student about their Frozen pencil case. Before I knew it, half the class were asking me to sing. Oops!

Next we had a brief visit to the school where we will be hosting a four day conference for about 100 local teachers. We had a quick look around the classrooms and a brief chat to the incredibly friendly students.

Finally, we ended the day with sunset at Swayambhunath Temple, also known as the monkey temple. There are hundreds of monkeys that are hanging out at the temple. We arrived here just in time for sunset over Kathmandu. It was a stunning sight!

It was a busy day and left me with lots and lots of questions. Two of the key ones for today:

  • Digital technology is completely absent from the school we visited. From what I can tell, it seems to be absent in most schools. With digital technology playing such a huge role in our global economy, will this absence of this affect Nepal's chances of building a stronger economy in the future?
  • Through much of its history (and even today), Nepal is very isolated from the rest of the world. I'm reading a great book at the moment called Culture Map by Erin Meyer. The book suggests that often in cultures that have been very isolated, there are lots of reading between the lines communication. For example, the same word could have lots of different meanings depending on the context it is being used. Additionally, much of the communication is non verbal. This has me wondering, in the west where our communication is much more explicit, how much do we miss when working in a multicultural context? 


Wednesday, January 3, 2018

Introducing Kathmandu

Gems with dirty feet
Hidden in the dirt and dust
Kathmandu's contrasts.

Some of you may be aware that I am spending January in Nepal where I am doing some volunteer work with Limited Resource Teacher Training (see my Give a Little page for more information). More about that in the days to follow! For now, a few snapshots of the city. I arrived a day early to squeeze in some extra exploring. 

Kathmandu seems to be a city of contrast. Hidden between dilapidated buildings and dust are beautiful coloured buildings with pretty balconies and accented windows. As you walk, you pass the odd chicken, stray dogs, and curious little hole in the wall shops. The many cars and scooters are constantly honking.  We are staying at the Volunteers Initiative Nepal. From here it is a 20 minute walk to Thamel, a tourist market. Thamel, is a nirvana for the handicraft enthusiast. This market is made up of small busy streets covered by coloured prayer flags. Walking back from Thamel to our accommodation at night, you pass fires that made in the street. Locals sit around them to keep warm. The roads are dusty and filled with litter. 

After breakfast today, we will have our induction. We will find out more about the work we will be doing here, our schedule, teams, etc. Excited, curious and nervous for now. And full of questions...
  • How will our group of 30 people from across New Zealand, Australia and the UK work together with the local teachers from Nepal? What will be the biggest challenge?
  • What cultural differences are there in regards to leadership and communication, between the contexts that I am used to, and those of Nepal (and my fellow LRTT fellows)?
  • What is the Nepal curriculum like? Do they have one? And if they do, what are the ideas that informed it? 

Sunday, December 10, 2017

"I inquire into my practice all the time!" Yeah right.

I got stuck in traffic a few weeks ago. I decided that I would use the time productively by dictating a blog post to my phone (thanks to Richard Wells for the voice dictation inspiration!). This post has been distilling in my head for some time and seemed a fitting post at this time of the year where we often have a moment to reflect on our practice.

When the subject of Teaching as Inquiry or Spirals of Inquiry is discussed in schools, one of the phrases that I have heard numerous teachers say over the past few years is "I inquire all the time, I just don't write it down". Sometimes this sounds like "I reflect about my practice all the time, I just don't write it down." Well, today I would like to go out on a limb, put on my devil's advocate horns, and say... I think that is nonsense, baloney and rubbish. I better explain...
There are two reasons for this, the first is the nature of memory. The way I memories work, is that every single time we access a memory, we modify it slightly. The more times we have recalled a memory, the we have manipulated it and changed its shape. If you don’t believe me, take a look at the video below from Dr Julia Shore.

Dr Shaw's research into memory showed that people who had never been involved with a violent crime, could be 'memory hacked' to believe that they committed one. Alarmingly, the memory hacking experiments was so effective, that the research had to be shut down early. While Julia's work is targeted at criminal psychology, this is very relevant for all of us who have a "but I inquire all the time, I just don't write it down approach". The reality is, that unless we write things down, we are like to bend and flex our memories to suit us. And, every time you recall a memory, you bend, shape and flex it even more. So while you thought you were inquiring into your practice, what we might really doing, is modifying your memory to suit our purpose. And every time I remember it, I convince myself just a little more. In other words, the retrospective recording of your inquiry just before your appraisal meeting is not great for critically reflecting on your practice...

The second bit of research worth paying attention to is the work of Nobel Prize winner Daniel Kahneman and his book, Thinking Fast and Slow. One of the key ideas that Kahneman talks about is cognitive bias. Through great examples in his book, he shows us just how biased we are without realising. Have a go at some of these problems that illustrate our biases if your don't believe me! What this means is that if we are "inquiring all the time but not writing it down" and not formally collecting data, and attempting to analyse it objectively, it is very likely that we might in fact be feeding into the cognitive biases embedded in our thinking.

I’ve been reading Ann Milne's book, Colouring in the White Spaces.  What really stands out from this book, is the generational prejudice and bias in our system that we don’t even notice. We are biased and prejudiced in ways that we are not even capable of identifying. The same is true for biases about women, race and more.

Consider for example the following,
"In 2003, Columbia Business School professor Frank Flynn and New York University professor Cameron Anderson ran an experiment to test perceptions of men and women in the workplace. They started with a Harvard Business School case study about a real-life entrepreneur named Heidi Roizen. The case described how Roizen became a successful venture capitalist by using her “outgoing personality … and vast personal and professional network [that] included many of the most powerful business leaders in the technology sector.” Flynn and Anderson assigned half of the students to read Heidi’s story and gave the other half the same story with just one difference—they changed the name “Heidi” to “Howard.” Professors Flynn and Anderson then polled the students about their impressions of Heidi or Howard. The students rated Heidi and Howard as equally competent, which made sense since “their” accomplishments were completely identical. Yet while students respected both Heidi and Howard, Howard came across as a more appealing colleague. Heidi, on the other hand, was seen as selfish and not “the type of person you would want to hire or work for.” The same data with a single difference—gender—created vastly different impressions." Exert from Sandberg, Sheryl. Lean In: Women, Work, and the Will to Lead (Kindle Locations 723-728). Ebury Publishing. Kindle Edition. 

Ultimately, if we are really committed to make a positive change, it is necessary that we become aware of our biases. For many generations now, we know our education system has not served our Māori and Pasifika students well. We know that not as many girls stay in the STEM subjects. Whether we like it or not, some of this is as a result of our biases, and unless we are able to identify, critique and address them, change is very unlikely. Fortunately, Teaching as Inquiry and Spirals of Inquiry models help us to do just this. By forming a hunch and seeking ways to test our hunches, it allows us to challenge our assumptions. However... when we adopt an "I inquire all the time, I just don't write it down" attitude, we are in fact at risk of continuing to be subject to our biases, particularly given how our memories are modified every time we recall them. Additionally, perhaps when we write things down, when we deeply challenge our assumptions and beliefs about the world, the need to change ourselves comes to the forefront. Once we realise our bias, we have to do something about it. But making genuine change requires an investment of physical and emotional energy. Often making change is really uncomfortable. So perhaps when we can't be bothered to write things down, to do the work required to make change, what we are really saying is that we are not prepared to make change.

So here are my questions for you. How well did you record your inquiry? Did you do so regularly? Did you collect data in such a way that you could challenge your own assumptions? Just how committed were you to making change? Or will 2018 be the year where you inquire all the time and write it down?