Imagine: Blogging for People Who Do Not Read

My head is swimming in wonderfully turbulent waters these past few days.  I am convinced -- profoundly convinced -- that there is something happening that will truly blow the doors of what I have always understood as education.  But, I'm not talking about:

• the next great speakers tour of curriculum mapping or emotional intelligence or 7-degrees-of-mental-re-integration adolescent development or
• the nearly-intriguing-but-not-ultimately-fulfilling 1-to-1 laptop debate or
• the provocative but essentially contextual small-schools-within-schools debate or
• the issue of standards or not standards or portfolios of standards or standardizing portfolios or
• nano-robots teaching 5 years Chinese so that they can be 'flatter than flat' in a not-so-flat world (if you really want an metaphor, don't 'flatten' the globe, Thomas, but 'pinch' the map and bring the folds together and maybe, just maybe, you'll see the connections begin to take shape, but you better throw in a simultaneously and perpetually spinning spherical 'space of connections' just to make sure, but I digress...)

No, I'm not talking about these (although all tongues against cheeks aside, I will indeed dive back into elements of all the above in many, many posts to come).  Not tonight.

No, tonight I'm thinking about only 3 things:

1. Learning without passion is not learning.  They make velcro-closure sneakers and spell check for all the rest.  Or they simply outsource it (skill, knowledge, 'fact') to India or via TurboTax. Period.  Without something profound pushing your soul, without a journey, without a Bilbo returning the ring, without a blind turn in the woods, without finding your absolute best self facing the blind trust fall of adventure, there is no learning worth fighting for that should divide communities based on bond increases or place technologists against administrators within the professional debate hamster-wheel or incite home schoolers to mock public schoolers (vice versa) or to ask anyone to worry about 21st century skills (and the tests that will get you there).  No, until the 'epic' is returned to the learning experience, until we all become part of the Story, until it matters more to the learner than the Superintendent, until learning answers the 'why do I need to know this?' quandry, it's all velcro-enclosure sneakers.
2. None of us are right. We can't see the future.  Nor even 'imagine' (yes, me neither) what 'learning' will look like in absolute terms. We can only adore the asking of questions and learning to be ammenable to the discovery that takes place.  Too much time, energy, expertise, rehetoric, after-school faculty meeting minutes, yearly conferences, and blogging (frankly) is wasted arguing over the 'small matters' out of fear or territory or the 'gravity of nostalgia' or frankly a lack of real inspiration.  Imagine instead if we gathered all (yes, including all of us who on occasion feel like we 'get it') of we enlightened 'edu-types' in a big circus tent.  You were offered one of 2 shows.  One ring sounds and look and brightly shines and spins like a-white-robed-Socrates-mixed-with-a-virtual-avatar-cum-learning-bot, spun with a dose of 'high-minded politics' and fiscal responsibility for good measure.  The other ring, well, there's just a 5-year old.  A 5-year old with a book.  A 5-year old with a book of dinosaurs (or rabbits or space ships or flowers) looking up at all of us.  And instead of us teaching us anything, the 5-year old wants to tell us a story, a story that is only interrupted by our questions, our legitimate questions and wonder and respect and curiosity.  And the 5-year old with the book of dinosaurs (or wolves or sea captains or robts or palm trees or stars) says, "Ok, I'll tell you a story but the funnest-part-of-all is that there is no ending, just a wonderful path to follow, and instead of bread crumbs there are only questions and more questions and more questions and it's going to be okay, adults, because at the end of the story the 'happily ever after' lesson we all learn is that those who can ask great questions and enjoy the ride will still be relevant when this over-marketed 21st-century-skill-set-thingamabob comes around.  Are you ready to come with me?"  Socrates with the robe and the virtual techno-curiosity?  Or the 5-year old with the book?  Which, frankly, would you rather discover the future with?  Anyone? Bueller?  Bueller?
3. And then I read this post on the "Bazungu Bucks" blog (focused on engaging volunteers in Africa):

Lots of teens have blogs. Petersondesigns put a posting taken from the Kansas City High School Dialog Buzz Web site. I'll copy it here because if promted some very good discussion elsewhere:

* I will access up-to-date information - you have a textbook that is 5 years old.
* I will immediately know when I misspell a word – you have to wait until it’s graded.
* I will learn how to care for technology by using it – you will read about it.
* I will see math problems in 3D – you will do the odd problems.
* I will create artwork and poetry and share it with the world – you will share yours with the class.
* I will have 24/7 access – you have the entire class period.
* I will access the most dynamic information – yours will be printed and photocopied.
* I will communicate with leaders and experts using email – you will wait for Friday’s speaker.
* I will select my learning style – you will use the teacher’s favorite learning style.
* I will collaborate with my peers from around the world – you will collaborate with peers in your classroom.
* I will take my learning as far as I want – you must wait for the rest of the class.
* The cost of a laptop per year? - $250
* The cost of teacher and student training? – Expensive
* The cost of well educated US citizens and workforce? - Priceless

I can't remember how I happened on the conversation about this: whether if was first at think:lab or at Doug Johnson's The Blue Skunk Blog or at petersondesign in the first place. the important thing is that many people who care very much about children's education recognise what some in the business world have discovered: blogging is an important tool for learning.

The whole notion of a blog for people who don't read intriqued me and reminded me of one use for the small acordian books I've been thinking about how to make. It seems a hard puzzle to figure way for connect people in places in Africa where access to computers are limited. Paper seems one way. But as I'm also reminded by Nathan and members of the BSLA that there are many in their community who don't read at all. I also know that the members of the BSLA adult literacy groups want practical information to learn to read. They want to know how to increase their income. So one idea for the Cracker Jack books is to show how to do useful things in pictures.

And yes, for the record, I only discovered this post via the Technorati-look-at-me filter and was flattered to even be mentioned in the conversation, but man, oh man, was I utterly stunned to have someone take the very nimble ground I thought I was beginning to stand upon in this blogging dynamic...and spin me round, round, like a record player, round and round.  Blogging without reading.  And we're not talking audio podcast semantics here. 

Sounds like someone might be bringing the campfire back into the cave, back into the classroom, back into the story, back into our hearts. 

Imagine, like the 5-year old rather than the virtual Socratic sage, a classroom where non-readers are blogging, whether it be in America or in Tanzania.  Sheesh, what does that 'look' like?!!!  (wonderous wonders!)  Or, Chinese-speaking teachers and English-speaking students are working together across cyber-time-zones...and not actually doing any 'translation' in either direction. Just talking.  In real time.  And letting the technology translate for them in utterly-transparent ways so they can just talk.  Just talk.  And ask great questions rather than figure out how to fill in the worksheet. Or you name the scene that happens once we stop acting like learning is about all the rest of what we choose sides over.  When the act of communication and collaboration and conviction all trace straight lines to a shared center.  When it becomes about 'US', not A's. 

And learning becomes the point...once again.

That's the epic journey.  The one I can't help but feel is right around that blind corner in the woods where all of us are afraid to go.  But our kids?  Well, they're already on their way...if we let'em.