The Rise of the Machines: The Dangers and Promises of Technology in the Classroom

A good friend of mine has a mother who has, for over forty years, been a classroom teacher, mostly in private, Christian schools.  Recently, she and I had a conversation about her cellular phone upgrade.  She said that her phone provider (along with her children) was vigorously encouraging her to purchase either an iPhone or an Android.  In asking about how I liked my iPhone, I told her that it had phenomenal capabilities, most of which I would probably never realize and access.  Technology, after all, is much like a foreign language, which is partly why the younger generation seems to adapt to it so easily while older generations, mine included, seem to a bit more clumsy (Yelland, 2006).  The young still have their language acquisition device (Clark, 2009).  My daughter, three years old, literally has to show me how to use certain iPhone apps!

Since we are both classroom educators, the conversation naturally turned to the implications of technology in the classroom.  Though she was mystified and impressed with the iPhone’s “siri” application (the digital private assistant that can perform a number of tasks – Internet searches, scheduling, placing calls, finding directions, etc. – by simple voice commands), she expressed concerns that the technology was “dumbing down” current generations (and would do so to future generations, probably at a more astonishing rate).  She, of course, is not alone in her fears.  Bauerlein (2008) has built an entire career off of presaging doomsday scenarios that arise from the stupefying effects of technology on the young.  He certainly makes a number of valid points: the Web “produces an appetite for familiar items easily consumed” but does not “produce deeper understanding and heightened curiosity”; social media demeans human relationships; youth, who engage in such extensive texting and “Facebooking” are loosing the ability to communicate verbally (Bauerlein, 2012, p. 6).

I would agree that each of these dangers exist.  They are not, however, formal dangers inherent only in technology.  Indeed, in the wrong hands and without proper guidance, technology could facilitate any number of social ills…but so could printed media (e.g., pornography, hate literature, etc.).  Effective educators have always insisted that technology should not and can not be a substitute for a teacher (Hooper & Rieber, 1995).  Armed with technology as a platform for the dissemination of content (but not the content itself), teachers can enhance the value of human relationships, steering students not just to exchanges with classmates, boyfriend/girlfriends, and teammates, but with peers in Europe, Africa, and Asia.  Rather than allowing technology to impede the use of verbal communication, certain applications (like Dragon Dictation) can simultaneously teach students how to write and speak.  Rather than allow technology to package information merely in easily consumable bites, teachers can guide students to locations and repositories of digitized documents that they would never have visited or read otherwise.

When the assembly line was becoming a mainstay of American manufacturing, some feared that this innovation heralded the death of the skilled craftsman and their guilds.  The assembly line, they warned, was dehumanizing (Linhart, 1981).  Some may argue that dehumanization is precisely what took place.  Others would argue, however, that the assembly line increased the potential for productivity and permitted intellectual and creative efforts to be diverted elsewhere.  I imagine that there is truth in both arguments.  Similarly, technology represents real potential threats to education, but the promises and potentialities cannot be denied either.  With great power comes great responsibility, and shouldn’t teachers teach responsibility?

References

Bauerlein, M. (2012, Summer). Connectivity issues. The Wilson Quarterly, 36(3), 6.

Bauerlein, M. (2008). The dumbest generation: How the digital age stupefies young Americans and jeopardizes our future (or, don’t trust anyone under 30). New York, NY: Penguin.

Clark, E.V. (2008). First language acquisition (2^nd ed.). Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press.

Hooper, S., & Rieber, L.P. (1995). Teaching with technology. In A. C. Ornstein (Ed.), Teaching: Theory into practice, pp. 154-170.  Needham Heights, MA: Allyn and Bacon.

Linhart, R. (1981). The assembly line. Amherst, MA: University of Massachusetts Press.

Yelland, N. (2009). Shift to the future: Rethinking learning with new technologies in education. New York, NY: Routledge.

A Gifted Case Study: "Searching For Bobby Fischer"

                Last night was family movie night, and my wife, a fellow educator, selected one of my all-time favorites, Searching for Bobby Fischer.  I imagine that most gifted educators have seen the film at one point or another, likely during your gifted endorsement program.  For those who haven't, it must be placed at the top of the Netflix cue.  Beyond being a great film and a true story, it is an excellent case study in the characteristics and challenges that many gifted children face.  After viewing the film, my wife suggested I add a film review to my blog since, she reasoned, any good discussion on education, particularly education, will eventually have to get around to Bobby Fischer!

The film is the story of Josh Waitzkin, a chess prodigy who began playing chess at the age of six, defeated a chess master at the age of ten, led his school to six national chess championships from grades 3 to 9 (while winning eight individual national championships during the same span), and who won the U.S. Junior Chess Championship in 1993 and 1994.  His teacher fails to recognize his talents for what they were and, instead, regarded them contemptuously, as though they were distracting him from more important academic pursuits in the classroom.  His father and professional coach recognizes the gift and relentlessly pushes Josh to refine and master his skills, overlooking that fact (which only his mother and friend, Vinnie, seem to appreciate) that, while being gifted in a particular area, Josh is nevertheless a child, with all the emotions, dreams, and frailties that children possess.

As an educator, I consider the film's greatest value to be the manner in which it illustrates a number of gifted characteristics.  Giftedness, of course, is a broad, ill-defined concept, but children with extraordinary gifts in the area of abstraction, intuition, and critical thinking possess a number of hallmark characteristics, some of which Josh shares.

Josh is, first, highly inquisitive.  In the opening scene of the film, for example, while playing during a rain storm, Josh ventures into an underbrush and finds a lone chess piece lying on the ground.  He is encountered by Vinnie, who would eventually be his friend and mentor, who offers to exchange the chess piece for a baseball.  Josh is so fascinated by the chess piece that he refuses the offer.  His inquisitiveness is further suggested during frequent trips through the park, where he becomes intensely intrigued by the game of speed chess.  Disregarding many of the foul elements present in the park that might offend or scare many others – i.e., alcohol, gambling, the presumption of drugs, homelessness, etc. – Josh seems to be completely undeterred in his pursuit of observing, and eventually, participating in the game of chess.

Josh also exhibits an extraordinarily mature degree of conscientiousness.  While he may not have developed a concern for the plight of homelessness in America in general, he is able to draw the inference that Vinnie is homeless, and he is so bothered by that fact that he asks his mother to allow Vinnie to sleep on his top bunk.  In doing so, Josh demonstrates, not only a great deal of personal affection for his friend, but an ability, beyond his years, to recognize differences in economic conditions and situations and to empathize with those who may not share his social status.

Perhaps Josh’s most telling gifted characteristic is his remarkable ability to learn and master the game of chess with little or no prior experience with the game, his keen sense of observation, and his ability to construct abstractions.  While the film does indicate that Josh’s skills are unrefined, and that he does require extended, professional training to achieve the level of master, his rudimentary abilities far exceed those of nearly all of his peers and many of the adults (professionals and lay players) that he encounters.  Josh seems to have learned the most basic and many advanced techniques from mere, occasional observation.  With each game he plays and, eventually, each lesson from his professional tutor, Bruce Pandolfini, Josh advances at a remarkably swift pace, defeating former adult U.S. champions, learning the skill of developing combinations with no pieces on the chess board, anticipating plays that are 6-7 moves in the future, etc.

Despite his gifts and abilities, Josh shares, with many of his gifted peers, an extremely critical view of himself.  During the film, he begins to succumb to the pressures of his family, teacher, and the competition, he begins to lose sight of the basic enjoyment of the art of chess, and he begins to question his own abilities.  Like many gifted learners, Josh is nearly overwhelmed by the fear of failure.  He comes to view chess as a lose-lose situation: if he loses, people will say he was not that good, but if he wins, people will say that they assumed he would do so.  It is in the moment of crisis that Josh demonstrates perhaps his most profound gift – the gift of goodness and decency that leads him to remember his love for chess, to cling to his kindness and defeat the urge to “hate” his opponent, and ultimately, to win honorably.

                Searching for Bobby Fischer is a remarkable, compelling, and truly moving story.  It illustrates not only the extraordinary abilities that the gifted possess, but also the extraordinary, sometimes overwhelming burdens the gifted may carry.  In doing so, it encourages the viewer to remember always the innate dignity of every child and to be aware that, though the gifted may appear adequately equipped for success, they are often times the most vulnerable and frail.

Tea Time with Skinner

I had a great conversation today with an old friend over lunch.  We are both educators, we are both enthusiastic about educational theory and practice, and though we don’t always see eye to eye, we always enjoy our conversations (or, as we often call them, our “duels”).  Today, the topic of behaviorism came up.  Just to tip my hand, I am somewhat of an admirer of B.F. Skinner (with some qualifications), and my friend is an avid constructivist who pastes posters of Dewey and Kilpatrick all over his bedroom walls!  Since behaviorism continues to be one of the most enduring debates in education (with immediate implications for classroom teachers, whether they be gifted, general education, or special education), I thought that, as a postscript to my conversation, I'd highlight a few of the insights of behaviorism that I have found particularly valuable, with a word of caution about each.  I don't deny that these reflect my own worldview precommitments, but we are talking about theory here.  No theory is value-neutral.  I invite discussion and disagreement:

1. Since food, shelter, and warmth are basic needs, there is certainly a basic reinforcement principle innate to human beings.  HOWEVER, human beings are complex.  They are biological, but they are also cognitive and moral.  Theories of learning that stop with behavior do not adequately account for value or morality, unless morality is defined in terms of behavior that increases survival.

2. Behaviorism allows teachers to provide predictable educational environments for students, as expected behaviors and potential consequences are clearly defined.  HOWEVER, behaviorism alone, does not account for mitigated responses to mitigating factors (i.e., mercy, exceptions to the rule, etc.).

3. Behaviorism allows the teacher to control student behaviors in order to build effective classroom management.  HOWEVER, behaviorism alone ignores the morally instructive aspects of rewards and punishment, focusing instead on behavior manipulation (as a teacher, I want to instruct students to act in a certain way because it reflects civic virtue, not merely because it is a conditioned impulse).

4. Behaviorism, like no other theory, recognizes the tremendous relationship between environment and behavior.  HOWEVER, by itself, behaviorism is mechanistic and fatalistic, removing the possibility of free, responsible choices.

Behaviorism emphasizes the importance of external considerations on learning, but it yields its greatest benefits when it is observed alongside other learning theories, like social cognitive theory, which emphasizes the interaction of external considerations and internal considerations.  When dealing with the classroom application of learning theories, educators (particularly young educators who are full of energy, optimism, and often times, opinions) would do well to remember that all theories are, in themselves, reductionistic.  Taken in isolation, they represent only a piece of the complex puzzle of human learning and cognition.

Forensic Assessment (A Formative Model)

In explaining my approach to assessment to my students, I often use a forensic, law-court analogy (Wright, 2009).  The students, I explain, are attorneys, presenting evidence of skills or content mastery on their own behalf.  I am the judge who considers the evidence and makes the ultimate determination.

            The course I've taught for the last seven years is divided into thirteen units, corresponding generally to a single performance standard or two or more closely related standards.  Over the course of the academic year, a student will receive thirteen grades, one for each unit (the grading system is discussed below).  Each unit consists of a number of assessments, ranging from reading comprehension exercises, performance tasks, primary source analyses, and traditional paper-and-pencil tests.  Rather than averaging each assessment into a single grade, the various assessments are treated as diagnostic in nature.  They help “make a case” for a student’s level of content mastery.  If a student hasn’t demonstrated, through their evidence, that they have attained mastery, formal and informal conferences are conducted to explain how their evidence is deficient, to determine what must be done to correct it, and to develop a plan for providing additional evidence.  While the class might need to progress to the next unit, a student who has yet to attain “content mastery” of a particular unit is permitted, and expected, to revisit the unit continuously until mastery is attained.

            While the forensic assessment approach is far from perfect, it has the advantage of permitting students to learn at an individualized pace, to demonstrate content mastery at various levels across the cognitive taxonomy, and to provide a more holistic description of a student’s level of content mastery than might be possible with a single summative assessment.  It allows academically gifted students to move at an accelerated pace. It also heeds Stiggins’ (2008) warning to avoid the trap of giving isolated consideration to aptitude, effort, compliance, and attitude.  Students are assessed only in terms of content mastery.  While it is acknowledged that aptitude, effort, compliance, and attitude may influence student progress, it is the responsibility of the student to parlay those factors into content mastery.

            Another benefit of the forensic approach to assessment is that a student is permitted to practice, explore, and even learn from mistakes without the fear of penalty.  Under grading systems that confuse summative and formative assessments, a student is often held permanently accountable for mistakes – e.g., misbehavior, confusion, less than adequate work, etc. –  even thought that student might ultimately demonstrate content mastery.

            For many educators, grades are primarily tools of reward and punishment, rather than feedback (Guskey & Bailey, 2001).  Without doubt, grades can serve as significant motivators or de-motivators.  Cumulative grade reporting, however, fails to adequately communicate content mastery.  A student, for example, might earn a 50% on a performance task.  In order to improve their grade, the student might then be allowed to revisit the content, repeat the performance task, and receive a new grade by averaging the two tasks.  If the student finally attains content mastery and earns a 100% on the second performance task, the cumulative grade would be 75%.  While passing, a 75% doesn’t communicate content mastery.  Teachers often cite reasons – e.g., fairness to other students, teaching responsibility, etc. – for using this manner of assessment, as though assessment is for teaching “life lessons” rather than guiding instruction and learning.  In formative assessment, however, grades should communicate progress toward content mastery (Stiggins, 2008).   Life lessons only obscure this communication, and don’t necessarily reflect real life anyway.  An individual taking a driving test, for instance, must demonstrate skills mastery in order to receive a driver’s license.  If they fail their test, they must revisit the content until they have attained mastery.  Once they have done so, regardless of the number of times they’ve tested, they receive the same driver’s license that all other drivers receive (not some devalued, averaged, or otherwise qualified license).

            In my classroom, if a student’s collective body of evidence for a particular unit does not reflect content mastery, their unit grade reflects that.  Once they achieve mastery, their grade is adjusted accordingly, regardless of how many attempts were required and without reference to past mistakes, confusion, or less than adequate work.

References

Gusky, T., & Bailey, J. (2001). Developing grading and reporting systems for student learning. Thousand Oaks, CA: Corwin Press.

Stiggins, R. (2008). An introduction to student-involved assessment for learning (5th ed.). Upper Saddle River, NJ: Pearson.

Wright, N.T. (2009). Justification. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press.

Rethinking Bloom's Taxonomy

Disclaimer: The following comments are made in order to provoke discussion.  When it comes to the human mind, we are discovering new things each and every day.  Definitive statements, therefore, about how the brain works and how learning takes place must be taken with a grain of salt.  I am, in no way, dismissing Bloom's Taxonomy.  I am simply encouraging teachers, particularly gifted teachers who feel that instruction isn't quality unless it involves "higher order thinking skills" (or, as educators often say, HOTS, referring to the analysis, synthesis, and application levels of the taxonomy), to take a more critical look at the taxonomy.

I think that we are all on board with saying that Bloom's Taxonomy has value.  The problem, however, is in the degree to which his cognitive domain has been obsessed over and accepted, uncritically, to the point that it has become a quasi-religious creed in education.  I, by the way, use Bloom when designing performance tasks and assessments.  His adjectives for describing different levels of complexity in thinking are extremely handy.  Here are a few points of qualification I would make, though:

1. Bloom has been, since the 1950s, challenged by a number of scholars.  While it is extremely difficult (I would say scandalous) for anyone to claim proven-ness when it comes to cognition (new research debunks old assumptions on nearly a daily basis), the various challenges to Bloom, particularly Moore (1982) and Bereiter & Scardamalia (1998), demonstrate that there are, at least, a number of ways to "cut the cake."

2. Bloom's Taxonomy has seduced many into believing that the various levels of the domain are skills that, if mastered, could be simply transferred to various content domains (i.e., higher order thinking skills).  Learners, in fact, have varying levels of ability at different tiers within the taxonomy.  To revisit the critical thinking subject, depending on background knowledge and an individuals interests and talents, the same student may be able to think at the highest levels of the taxonomy in a preferred subject, but may not about to think at the lowest levels in another subject.  Bobby Fischer could engage in higher order thinking in chess, but in most other ways, he was incompetent and eccentric (not that these two always go together).   I was always (and still am) stronger in history, sociology, political science, etc., than I am in mathematics.   I have some ability to evaluate, synthesize and analyze in social studies, but practically no ability to do that in math.  This is because critical thinking has to be critical thinking about something.  While critical thinking might be a "broad purpose skill," it is not readily and broadly transferrable from domain to domain, and it does not exist divorced from subject-specific content: "The only thing that transforms reading skill and critical thinking skill into general all-purpose abilities is a person's possession of general, all-purpose knowledge" (Hirsch, 2006, p. 12).

3. Thinking at the "lower level" of the taxonomy is not "entry level" thinking, and thinking at the "higher level" is not "expert level" thinking.  The levels of thinking are, rather, interdependent.  We often describe "knowledge" and "comprehension" as "rote" knowledge.  I would argue that "rote" memorization is not really knowledge at all.  It is, rather, the development of reflex.  We have confused, therefore, the cognitive domain with the psychomotor domain.  I prefer the think of increases in the levels as a "completing" or a "rounding out" knowledge.

What are the implications of this on classroom instruction?  Well, we will try to continue to work that out in ongoing posts...

References

Bereiter, C., & Scardamalia, M. (1998). Beyond Bloom's Taxonomy: Rethinking knowledge for the knowledge age.  In A. Hargreaves, A. Lieberman, M. Fullen, & D. Hopkins (Eds.), International handbook of education change. Boston, MA: Kluwer Academic.

Hirsch, E.D. (2006). The knowledge deficit: Closing the shocking education gap for American children. Boston, MA: Houghton Mifflin.

Moore, D.S. (1982). Reconsidering Bloom's Taxonomy of educational objectives, cognitive domain.  Educational Theory, 32(1), 29-34.