UPDATE: Thanks to Hugh of Gaping Void [who did blog my draft, BTW] and a # of folks who I greatly respect (some friends and many I have never met) passing this 'manifesto' along to others in their networks, I want to say thank you. Additionally, I want to emphasize that this post is in no way meant to be complete resolution on an level. One could certainly accuse it of being a tad 'preachy' at times, but that's probably a result of the excessive coffee that fueled the burst of morning typing. Same with the mix of voices/points of view that would drive your high school English teacher a bit crazy. Second draft quarterbacking will definitely be an advantage to all (he smiles). At best, it's a quest. A first draft of questions posed as statements to provoke myself to look deeper. More questions than answers by a long shot. Something that I'm going to re-visit, clean-up, edit, and use as a map for a future draft one day soon. Ultimately, however, its real value lies in 3 areas:
- Others like yourself creating their own "Future of Learning Manifesto" showing where these quickly scrawled rough draft ideas can lead when a range of passionate voices weigh in on the conversation. Perhaps I need to pull together a Wiki to allow others to edit, mash-up, and give this early draft more substance over time. A thought for the next few weeks.
- Teachers creating their own manifestos -- the Maginot Line in their own teaching and learning lives -- which become part of their introduction to students, colleagues and the greater community alike. And a passionate reminder to their inner calling that will keep them steady in the days ahead.
- And best of all, when students themselves create their own "My Future of Learning Manifesto" calling card(s) that morph and mature and explore over time. Allow them to put some stake in this compensatory and self-directed learning voyage. Certainly a nice dovetail to their GPA's and other traditional learning definitions when they step out into the world on their own terms in a wildly evolving future. And a potential guide for a future e-portfolio, as well. And frankly, far better than anything I can offer as a shot across the conceptual bow.
Thanks. And I greatly appreciate any feedback, questions, challenges,...and your help making my learning curve as steep as possible. Cheers, Christian
*****
"Manifesto" -- A public declaration of principles, policies, or intentions..."
A "future of learning" manifesto...now, what would you do with that? And ultimately, what would it matter?
Eminem reminds that you only got one shot, so in the spirit of my Motor City bass-pumping social poet, I'll toss this "The Future of Learning" Manifesto out to Hugh at Gaping Void, and see if it has sticky power. If not -- no worries -- my blog archive will give it a hiding place to spend its later years basking in its own warm, soft, and comfy echo chamber. UPDATE: I just read in my RSS feed the day after I sent this to Hugh the following from his blog that he's not really spending time typing/reading emails. C'est la vie with a double sigh. My timing is impeccable. But more importantly, I'm dang curious what he did to cause his wrist to go all hay-wire...and when he'll be able to bar napkin cartoon sketch again -- far more important than what I sent him! He wrote:
PS. I sprained my wrist. Very painful. Will be away from keyboard for a while. Please minimize the e-mails for now, thanks.
PPS. Yes, it was worth it.
[Note: He has a wide range of manifestos from lawyers, people driving in Phoenix, end-users, and those who celebrate or notice holidays -- aka humans. UPDATE: I was reminded by a very credible source that Hugh's call-to-manifesto-arms grew out of the "J-Train minfesto" (yes, as in 'mini') written by John Dodds, of the scorching hot Making Marketing History blog, after one of his 'lively' meetings with Hugh. Hugh has been collecting "manifestos" ever since. And while you're at it, consider checking out Hugh's (in my mind, and other's, too) "How to Be Creative" , a classic in mind and that of many others, too.]
So, here goes. Note: I sent Hugh an abbreviated version (to stay in the 500-word count boundary he requested -- probably the bold list itself would have been enough, but we'll see) Additionally, DK has accused me (he smiles) of playing fast-n-loose with 2 voices, losing consistency. My coy response is that in the future, the blur between learner and mentor will be very real. And we'll all slip between the two. Or, maybe I just lacked editing focus, DK!).
"The Future of Learning" Manifesto (draft #1 -- 1.4.07) -- The shortened version:
1. "Playing
Small Does Not Serve the World."
2. What Would Socrates Do?
3. Nobody Cares if You Walked Up Hill Both Ways Barefoot in the Snow.
4. Got
Passion? If Not, I'll Tell You What To Care About.
5. My Memory Is Only As Big As My Heart. Otherwise, I'll Stick with
Google
6. Look it Up or
Die.
7. Collaboration Ain't About Holding Hands. It’s about Going Cool Places Fast.
8. This Will Go Down on Your Permanent Record.
9. It Ain't About the Technology. It's About Being Inside the
Story.
10. Nobody Knows the Answer. Get Comfy with the Questions.
*****
"The Future of Learning" Manifesto (draft #1 -- 1.4.07) -- The long version:
1. "Playing Small Does Not Serve the World."-- Your Brain is Your Brand.
Marianne Williamson wasn't being cheap with words. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. Or that we're simply being measured by small dreams.
You've got one choice. Play big or stay home. Serve the world or be forgotten.
Ultimately, you've got your heart and your brain. Both can serve. One will do so when nobody is watching. The other is your brain. It needs attention. Give it fuel. Make it stand out. Be the brand that makes a difference.
2. What Would Socrates Do?
If Socrates could Google, what questions would he have asked?
Am I being rhetorical?
Does it matter?
Ask Jeeves.
3. Nobody Cares if You Walked Up Hill Both Ways Barefoot in the Snow and Could Diagram a Sentence.
I get it. You were a noble student of the highest caliber 'back in the day' before text messaging and cell phones and this wacky Internet business. You were a fine speller, you kept your notebook neatly on your desk, and you always answered something "above average" with your hand politely raised in the air. You memorized the multiplication tables all the way to 12, you studied Latin (and its sus scrofa domesticus-Latin brother), and you believed Sputnik was the cat's meow. You had neat penmanship, you knew all the dates of all the battles and all the dead people, and you kept a glorious stash of index cards with obscure library resources neatly bound by a rubber band.
And if you're dead set on helping me master 'your past', please realize I'm going to need a nap. And something to fidget with. And a bus token to get to my job down at the buggy whip factory where I'll be standing at the front of the line.
Or, you can help me prepare for my future. Your choice.
4. Got Passion? If Not, I'll Tell You What To Care About.
I have a right to bitch about this class only if I have a dream I can articulate and am willing to put my life on the line for it. Otherwise, I might as well color between the lines, sit up straight, and take great notes.
And get out to recess on time.
Keep in mind, I may be young so I may have a hard time with that "r-tickle-a-shun" thing. That's your job. Give me the words. Give me the tools. Give me the examples. And then get out of my way.
But the second you see my passion start to go from curious lit match to smoke-jumper forest fire, stop giving me handouts and worksheets and become my Jerry McGuire.
5. My Memory Is Only As Big As My Heart. Otherwise, I'll Stick with Google.
I could memorize your facts, but I got Google for that.
Yeah, completely outsourced my entire "traditional fact memorization" protocol to this upstart search engine. Yeah, like a library, 'cept that there ain't no dust and much, much bigger. Yeah, it's not perfect, but I'm not going on Jeopardy, either. Yeah, there isn't a librarian holding my hand, but then again I need answers now. Not after a lecture on the Dewey Decimal thinga-ma-bob.
Sure, I'll do that memorize thing for you. Just one catch. Tell me a story.
Seriously. Put away the chalk. Get out from behind the podium. Look me in the eyes. Reach deep into my gut. Massage my heart. Get the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up. Get me to tell the flavor of clouds. Tell me to close my eyes and go somewhere bold.
I'll remember anything you tell me. Swear it.
6. Look it Up or Die.
It's old skool but sometimes remind me to look it up. Or die.
But don't stop there. Don't pat yourself on the back quite yet. I may be pretty quick on the Google or the Wikipedia, but I have no idea how to make sense of what I'm finding. That's your job.
Back in the day, if it was in a book, you taught me how to write down some copyright details on a note card. But things got funny on the way to the Internet forum. Facts don't just come in books anymore, and I need more than copyright details to help me make sense.
Are you teaching me to think? Or just to take notes?
And one day when you're nowhere to be found and I got a kid with a fever and he's vomiting and its 3am and I got 15 minutes to figure this crazy thing out, I got Google. And I need to know NOW what will keep my kid alive and what will instead send us over the edge.
Can you do that? 'Cause that's one part of my future and I won't have time for index cards.
7. Collaboration Ain't About Holding Hands. It's about Going Cool Places Fast.
How big is my classroom? 4 walls or the horizon line?
I need friends. And fast.
Don't get sucka-punched by all the 'flat' earth hype. You're excited because someone in a foreign country leaves a comment on your blog. Really? Really? Seriously? Sure, it's sexy to suddenly be in cahoots with someone in Bangladesh and Minneapolis at one time, but I was born in that world 2.0 so I'm kinda used to it. Yeah, I get that you were born before things got interesting, but your digital immigrant accent is making it hard for me to understand you, and harder for me to remain relevant.
And I'm kind of selfish when it comes to my future vs. your past.
So, please stop making this so Friedman-esque and suggesting I need more math so my job isn't outsourced to Calcutta one day. And I ain't got time for your geek blog-penpal moment, either.
What I need is a network. And yesterday-fast.
Are you helping me get networked? Are you helping me become one talented hombre when it comes to partnerships and brainstorming with a team and finding talent when I need it and learning how to step up big as a leader and then slide seamlessly into the role of teammate and be the go-to guy on 20 projects at one time? Are you helping me build and position my brand? Are you helping me be relevant? At all?
Are you making sure I'm going cool places? And fast?
8. This Will Go Down on Your Permanent Record.
You used to worry about the manilla folder. Then things really got interesting.
Today you worry about filters and predators and firewalls and the MySpace boogeymen.
Okay, I want to be safe. And I appreciate you wanting me to be safe. I just don't want to live in a locked box in the process.So, maybe it's time we had a sit-down and talked about the 'how-to' strategy for social networking. What? Oh, I mean blogging. What? Yeah, like a diary. Sort of.
Instead of shutting off every virtual connection I have with the world once I step onto campus, why don't you teach me how to 'blog smart'? Why don't you bring in some CEO's into the classroom to talk about the really 'great' kid they almost hired, until they Googled her and found those clever spring break shots from Padre Island? Why don't you get a MySpace account and come see what I'm writing, even if it p***es me off at the moment? Why don't you make me agile, rather than weak?
Oh, and why are you asking my teachers to deliver a world class education for the 21st century knowledge economy but you've censored every virtual tool they have at their disposal? Frankly, I'm not sure why they give a damn. I wouldn't if I were them.
But then I'd be blogging my brains out at home after I punched out at the end of the school day. And then become a consultant and get 10x the pay from the same superintendent who hired me to come in and do a professional development day when "blogging" was trendy for 5 minutes.
9. It Ain't About the Technology. It's About the Story.
Laptops? (Yawn)
Blogging? (Yawn)
PowerPoint? (Snore)
Multi-Media Center with a Starbucks 'coffee house' espresso shot in the backside? (Daring? 21st century school? Yawn.)How about we stop talking all giddy-like about the technology. For us, it's not about the box. Not even about the iPod in pink or black. And it's definitely not about the email (psst: we don't email 'cept when old people need help).
It's about the conversation. The ricochet of words. The energy. The fact that its happening right here right now and it ain't coming back.
You tell me to turn off the game. Because you're staring at the box. I can't turn off the game. Because the game ain't in the box.
So, stop making technology such a big deal. You want laptops. I got a cell phone. And you still don't get it.
'cause no matter what you spend your money and professional development time on, for us it's about being inside the game, inside the story, in real-time.
Everything else is over-priced and ready for recycling.
10. Nobody Knows the Answer. Get Comfy with the Questions.
If you're so smart, why are you asking me to give you the answers?
More importantly, are you teaching me how to ask great questions?
How to be Socrates? And the guys who actually code Google by asking the questions nobody else dreamed of?
I can tell you an answer. But my future isn't going to care for what I memorized. It's only going to care if I can adapt.
Are you ready to help me?
And can I trust you to help me get there?
*****
Gulp. And so ends draft #1 of "The Future of Learning" Manifesto.
I'd rather this go get some wiki-editing love from brighter people than I, rather than to be accepted as 'relevant' on its own. Any criticism or cheap shots or deification (he smirks) of this list would be a bad use of everyone's time.
Instead, add to it. Mash it up. Be Michelangelo and chip off enough of the rock to let the angel fly free. And teach me a thing or two in the process!
Christian,
I finally got around to giving this the reading it deserves, and it's not helping me. I've got a ton of essays to grade and college recommendations to write and all I want to do is call my colleagues and teacher-relatives and tell them to read this thing too. Is that bad?
I'm actually thinking about having my students read it in class as a break from Shakespeare. I'd love to know if they agree with any or all of it, if it seems a little condescending, whatever. At the very least, they'll love the language. Maybe I'll even have them write their own versions. I'll keep you posted if I find out anything interesting...
Posted by: Jeff Wasserman | October 17, 2007 at 04:58 PM
Great post to think about. Some points make me laugh. Still thinking about Socrates ideas and the possible variants of search in Google.
http://www.dalloway-school.com
Posted by: School teacher | January 03, 2008 at 06:28 AM
Jeff -- Not sure how (coma I neglected to recall?) I failed to respond to your October (oy!) comment, but I'm just grasping that 3+ months have passed. My apologies. Really appreciate the blogging you've been doing -- esp. the 2007 summary piece re: your grandmother and the Habitat for Humanity experience that you did recently -- and the thought that you'd even consider sharing the wacky lil' manifesto concept piece with your high school students (esp. since I'm probably a bit weary of my own 10th graders finding my blog and the myriad of post tangents I've planted over time). What I'm really curious about is whether you had them write their own Future of Learning manifestos...and how the conversation in-class unfolded. Again, my apologies for the delay in response. A bit shamed by my delay - but still appreciative of your comment/time. Thanks!
***
"School Teacher" -- Thanks for taking time to touch base. Given your role at an on-line high school, I can see how the paradigm shift is definitely at play for you and your colleagues/students.
Posted by: Christian | January 19, 2008 at 01:56 PM
12: The Past has its Butterflies
Thanks for the wind you thrust in our direction. Once passion and learning held hands again even our horizon held no borders. The number of voices teaching and learning never ceased to grow. Your story ricochets from our future to tell us this:
The wing beats of a butterfly,
fast AND slow,
create a twisted course
with beauty on its own.
Some seek their relevance
some know it's there
and even if no one doesn't
the future will care.
Posted by: Jeroen Hamers | January 23, 2008 at 03:53 AM
hi,
i have a teacher as a mother and i grew up to work for a tech company. i couldn't stop reading this. it resonated with me more than anything has in such a long time. i've always been rather confused as to how teachers have to bring up today's youth, but districts are not allowing them tools that prepare those students for what is to come next.
[Note: the rest of the comment was removed; contact Connie at her company's website to learn more about her product line and services -- ed.]
Posted by: Connie @ Yugma | January 30, 2008 at 01:39 PM
Excellent! I need to put these in my classroom and let my students have a go at it. Been spouting these here and there in hallways (my colleagues think I need professional help!) I have professional help - the great shoulders and genius! They need to get a different view!
I would love for you to come challenge all the old farts (wait - many of them are younger than me - too sad!) with your logic, intelligence, and conviction!
It was great to meet you at Educon!
Posted by: Louise Maine | February 01, 2008 at 08:23 AM