Category Archives: books

Does This Count As A MOOC?

Yesterday, I “joined” an online book club. The quotes are there because joining the club meant following it on Twitter and ordering the book for April. The club, called 1book140, is run by The Atlantic, and I discovered it through this article from The Wall Street Journal. Each month, the group votes for a book and then tweets along as the members read it. This month, the group is reading The ecco Anthology of International Poetry. 

Laura Moser, the author of the WSJ article describes why she chose this particular group:

There are only a few active book clubs on Twitter: Penguin hosts one, as does the Jewish Book Council. The clubs have different guidelines and formats, but most put forth a title for discussion that takes place on Twitter at a specific time. Because I couldn’t commit to being in front of my computer at any given time, I went with the Atlantic magazine’s 1book140, which is nearly two years old and now has more than 84,000 followers (although only a handful actively participate). I also liked the democratic chaos of the largely unmoderated discussions.

I, too, love the concept of “democratic chaos.” And being able to follow the flow in Tweetdeck will make the club a natural part of my day. I’ll be learning and sharing with others around the world.

So, does this count as a MOOC? I suppose it isn’t a “course” as it isn’t run by a university. But, like a course, it has a beginning and ending. Two facilitators, one of whom has ties to MIT, lead the group. There are expectations for participation like those outlined in a course syllabus.  I’m reading and discussing a book, albeit in 140 character bursts…sounds like every English course I took in college. Like most MOOCs, I won’t get any academic credit, and I won’t pay any tuition fees. And, I will be learning with a group, which seems to be the fundamental definition of a MOOC.

Why does it matter? Because it points to the difficulty and implications of defining web-based learning experiences. When we call some of these experiences MOOCs, we elevate them to a higher status. For teachers, it might mean the difference between receiving continuing education units or not. It is hard for administrators to imagine that real professional learning can occur in as part of democratic chaos; yet, for many of us, that is exactly where our learning happens these days.

 

 

 

Of Troll Quotes and Book Shelves

I spent a bit of time browsing the aggregator in hopes of finding potential blog post fodder. I loved Tom Woodward’s rif on quotes and authenticity but could find nothing of any consequence to add except to say thanks for providing the link to Michael Livingston’s blog, which has been added to the aggregator.

So, I tried my hand at making a troll quote instead:

This seems like something that would make it to Facebook, if I do say so myself, although it occurred to me that I am very much out of the mainstream when it comes to media.


The LIbrary

From Tom (btw, that West Wing video clip in another post is one of my favorites), I headed to Ars Technica because this phrase annoyed me: “Bookshelves today are simply not as appealing as they used to be.” Really? I do beg to differ. I have no interest in spending $500 to build a book scanner so I can get rid of my books any more than I got rid of my albums once I digitized them. I still put an album on the turntable now and then. And there are just times when I want to read an analog book, one with pages, one that runs on its own power (and mine as I turn those pages). Part of the reason we bought this house is because I needed more shelves! Two more books arrived in the mail yesterday.

Then, it occurred to me that maybe I’m out of the mainstream here as well. Digital is always better, and I can turn into a 150-page-a-minute book scanner. But, when would I find time to read?

Bookless Libraries?

That was the headline that was all over Twitter this morning, pointing to a story about a town in Texas that is soon to open a bookless library where users can check out ereaders loaded with their choice of books.

This is going to change everything, according to the local officials:

Precinct 1 Commissioner Sergio “Chico” Rodriguez said, “This is an incredible project that I’m very happy to have in my precinct. I think it’s really going to change the way that our residents begin to incorporate technology, reading and learning into their daily lives.”

Liz Dwyer at good.is points out two of the obvious problems: not all books are available as ebooks and not everyone knows how to use an ereader.

I know several of the geekiest of techno-geeks who simply don’t like reading using an ereader. Should they be forced to change their voracious reading habits when the world is full of analog books?

In fact, two communities that tried the bookless concept–Newport Beach, California, and Tucson, Arizona–ended up adding analog books to their collections at the community’s request.

My own library system has a nice hybrid: analog books on the shelf with a robust interlibrary loan system and digital books available for checkout on your own device. It means I can access library books even when I can’t get to the library. But when I’m in the mood for browsing the shelves, flipping the pages, and looking for other materials like magazines, music and videos, I can head to the bricks and mortar version.

Finally, I hope these bookless libraries will recognize that people use the library for much more than consuming media: my own library has computers and printers, a fax machine, workshops on resume writing, and activities for families. In our quest to do something “cutting edge,” let’s not lose sight of the things that are working in traditional institutions.

 

I’ve Been Meaning to Write This Post But

I got stuck on Level 17 (2.7) in Roads to Rome and just had to beat the expert time.  The game lets you move even without making expert time, but somehow I just needed to see the next little bit of the statue revealed and that only happens when you finish all the tasks before expert time runs out.  Plus, each time I played the level, I got a little bit better and could tell that if I just started building the road a little earlier, I would make it.

Now, I know there are a few of you who are rolling your eyes and thinking that this just proves that games are time killers.  After all, I could have been doing something productive and creative like writing a blog post.  But since I knew this post would be about gaming, I’m going to call it research.  And, part of my brain was writing the post even as I learned how to beat the level in expert time.  I was thinking about how I applied what I learned each time to eek just a little bit more speed out of my workers.  A few times I restarted when I realized I had not applied the lessons which meant workers were idling away in camp while I waited for resources to regenerate.  It has been the toughest level so far in the game, and when the last patch of road appeared with the time bar still in the green, I experienced what, in Reality is BrokenJane McGonigal calls “fiero”: an Italian word that basically means “proud” in the sense of “yeah! I finally did it!”  As I played the game, I experience what Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi calls “flow,” that sense of being completely absorbed in the moment.  Two pretty good feelings to achieve on a late Tuesday afternoon.

Last evening, I found flow and fiero in Second Life as well.  The crew on VSTE Island had arranged a wonderful July 4th party with lots of activities from kayaking to skydiving.  I particularly enjoyed kayaking.  I kayak in my first life and found that I could apply my knowledge to the virtual version in order to make my way through the wonderful streams and rivers that are part of VSTE Island. And, in what might seem a strange way, it was relaxing. I think it was the concentration and then the success–flow and fiero–that helped create that sense of calm.

I am not completely sold on all McGonigal’s tenets in her book.  Parts of it seem overwritten and undersupported.  But as I continue to play games, I find that some of what she writes resonates with my own experience so I am not willing to completely deride her.

My Love Affair With Books

booksWhen my husband took a tour of the old farmhouse last year, he was sure he would be able to convince me to buy it when he saw the library. Floor to ceiling bookshelves covered three walls of the room. Many of the shelves still held books as the former owner was also a book collector.

My husband was right: the library made the rest of the farm an easy sell, and the first things that got moved were my books. In our tiny little house, they had been double shelved, stored in boxes and hidden in the linen closet. Now, they are breathing freely, mostly organized, and I spend happy hours browsing the shelves, pulling out a book here and there, dreaming of the many hours of happy reading they will provide.

This is about more than just being a reader. After all, I can read books from the library, on my iPad, or borrowed from others. I love owning books and have collected them throughout my life. Poetry anthologies and literary collections from my days as an English major, textbooks about educational planning and policy from my doctoral work, and plenty of volumes of history and historical fiction along with nature writing, areas of personal interest that have grown over time. Now that we have moved to the farm, the shelves devoted to books about country living and farm stories are starting to fill up.

So, my dream of having a real library has come true. I’m waiting for some snow days to begin seriously cataloging the collection. My next dream is to open a bookstore, which in this day and age will probably be online. My husband says I won’t be able to part with my books but I don’t think that’s true. Instead, selling some of the less-loved volumes will pave the way for buying more. For now, however, I’m just going to enjoy my days in the library.

Note: This entry is an answer to the writing assignment “Tell Me a Story” as part of ds106.

Shakespeare, History, and Wikipedia

Once an English major, always an English major. During a recent trip to Denver, I bought Charles Beauclerk‘s book about the authorship of the Shakespeare plays. Then, browsing in the Tattered Cover Bookstore along the 16th Street Mall, I found Contested Will: Who Wrote Shakespeare? by James Shapiro in which the author makes the argument for the man from Stratford as the author.

While questions about who really wrote Romeo and Juliet and Julius Caesar have been debated since the mid-19th century, the Internet is playing a role in the 21st century version. Shapiro suggests that the Oxfordians have made better use of the web. He may be right: take a minute to compare their Wikipedia pages. The Baconians are clearly lacking in detail compared to the Oxfordians. If you want a behind-the-scenes view of Wikipedia, check out the page devoted to the authorship question in general. It’s undergoing an overhaul and clicking on the Discussion tab will give you an idea of how Wikipedia works.

Since the historical evidence is pretty slim, being able to sway public opinion is an important piece of this debate. After some 500 years, opinion is probably more important than facts. Jasper Fforde imagines a world where Baconians go door to door to lobby for their theory. I imagine a world where most people simply don’t care. Hate to end on such a cynical note but the few people to whom I mentioned my current reading–even my old English teaching buddies–seemed to be stifling yawns and finding excuses to get away.

The Science of Not Knowing

NOTE: This is a cross post from my mostly about reading blog In One Place. But the ideas about science are important for educators as well.

There are moments when reading and real life come together. Not to be too dramatic: but now is one of those times. As oil spews into the Gulf of Mexico, my companions for the journey are Annie Dillard and Wendell Berry. And, both of them make the same essential point about science: the real power and terror of science is that neither doesn’t nor can know everything.

For Dillard, the not-knowing can be seen in the natural world, in something as seemingly simple as an elm leaf:

Or again, there are, as I have said, six million leaves on a big elm. All right…but they are toothed, and the teeth themselves are toothed. How many notches and barbs is that to the world. In and out go the intricate leaf edges, and “don’t nobody know why.” All the theories botanists have devised to explain the functions of various leaf shapes tumble under an avalanche of inconsistencies. They simply don’t know, can’t imagine.

Berry’s comments are in response to Edward O. Wilson, who in his book Consilience, celebrates science and discounts the possibilities of learning in and from mystery:

He understands mystery as attributable entirely to human ignorance, and thereby appropriates it for the future of human science; in his formula, the unknown = the-to-be-known…If modern science is a religion, then one of its presiding deities must be Sherlock Holmes. To the modern scientist as to the great detective, every mystery is a problem, and every problem can be solved. A mystery can exist only because of human ignorance, and human ignorance is always redeemable. the appropriate response is not deference or respect, let alone reverence, but pursuit of “the answer”.

Don’t nobody know why…and yet we teach students that there are answers. I am outraged that BP was not required to have a solution to what was clearly a potential problem. I suppose we can blame it on a failure of the imagination but the cynic in me can’t help but blame it on a desire for profit. And an unwavering belief in science to solve any problem. I, of course, am hoping along with everyone else that this IS a problem science can solve, and quickly, but at what cost?

BP, with its string of abuses, clearly has not real concern for the world community other than as a market for its oil. Berry points out that science is often conducted with economics rather than community in mind and quotes Wilson’s description of the “cardinal principle in the conduct of scientific research: Find a paradigm for which you can raise money and attack with every method of anaylsis at your disposal.” Berry goes on:

This principle, in effect, makes the patron the prescriber of the work to be done. It would seem to eliminate the scientist as a person or community member who would judge whether or not the work ought to be done. It removes the scientist from the human and ecological circumstances in which the work will have its effect and which should provide one of the standards by which the work is to be judged; the scientist is thus isolated, by this principle of following patronage, in a career with a budget.

Hmmm…as I typed those last words, I realized how hard I was being on scientists, even if I was only channeling Berry. I’m blaming scientists for the flaws in a system that is much larger than them just as teachers often get blamed for failed reforms for which they had no responsibility. I imagine some scientist, in a planning meeting for the platform, quietly suggesting that this could be a problem. His solution, however, did not meet the cost analysis: what was the chance of this happening and how much would it cost? What the number crunchers failed to consider, however, was the cost if it DID happen! This could ruin BP. I don’t think anyone has the heart to bail them out.

RL? SL? Isn’t It All L?

One of the themes that came out of last week’s online course discussion about Web 2.0 was a sense that if you had an active online life, you didn’t have such an active offline life. Some students indicated that they didn’t spend much time online as they did other things and had other hobbies. They are the kinds of comments that I am already familiar with from others who seem to feel like there is a stark dividing line between the online and offline worlds and also seem to feel a little sorry sometimes for those of us who are online a lot.

I find that to be an artificial division, probably because I am online a lot and I don’t like the idea of being judged for that choice. I assure folks that I also have quite an active offline life that includes singing in a choir and playing in a recorder ensemble, making crafts, cooking, exercising, and reading lots and lots of analog books. And, in almost all cases, the online world informs those offline hobbies. Just last night, I looked on the web for a recording of a Medieval French song that I will be singing with the group to help me with both my pronunciation and rhythm. I belong to a Ning for recorder players that includes members from all over the world. The pattern for the baby sweater I’m crocheting came from the Web and I’ll be sending it to the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation whose real life need was advertised on the Web. The digital books I listen to when I exercise come from a variety of sources online and are often chosen based on the recommendations of other readers. I share and discuss my digital and analog reading with both a face to face book group and several at LibraryThing. And Monday evening last I met with a group of educators in Second Life–at the Jamestown Fort meeting house on VSTE Island–to hear from author Elisa Carbone about her real life writing.

My conclusion: My offline life would simply not be as rich without my online life. They complement each other and are inextricably woven together into one life. Perhaps I should feel sorry for those who haven’t found that connection. Or perhaps we can recognize that we all have different ways of living, both online and off, and just leave it at that.

Random Friday Round Up

A gloomy day here.  The rain brought down the leaves and it is starting to look like winter.  The dogs are sprawled around me, snoozing, and I can’t muster the energy for a thoughtful blog post.  But, I do have a few sites to share on several different topics so here’s the random Friday round up:

Miami Book Fair Celebrates 25 Years:  I heard this story on NPR yesterday as I drove back and forth across the state.  The founder of the fair is an independent book store owner in Miami and he reflects on how things have changed since 1983.  When asked about the challenge of selling analog books in an increasingly digital age, he comments that he is “selling the past.”

Guest Blogger on Eduwonk:  I credit Andrew Rotherman (aka Eduwonk) with helping me pass my comprehensive exams at William and Mary.  Today, his guest blogger is none other than Margaret Spellings, soon-to-be former Secretary of Education.  She writes about a new report from the Department of Education that details five areas in which federal, state and local goverments can collaborate to support the use of technology in education.

I Think I’m Musing My Mind:  I’m sorry that I can’t remember who steered me to this piece by Roger Ebert but I’ve read and re-read it several times since.  I found myself highlighting several of his key ideas that resonated with me in this thoughtful reflection on his writing:

The Muse visits during the process of creation, not before.

Of course I don’t think only about writing. I spend time with my wife, family and friends. I read a lot, watch a lot of politics on TV. But prose is beavering along beneath, writing itself. When it comes time to type it is an expression, not a process. My mind has improved so much at this that it’s become clearly apparent to me. The words, as e. e. cummings wrote, come out like a ribbon and lie flat on the brush. He wasn’t writing about toothpaste. In my fancy, I like to think he could have been writing about prose.

Collaborating with Diigo:  From jdtravers, an excellent video with practical tips for using Diigo to comment on student work.  My own experience with Diigo expanded this week.  I blogged about the Bauerlein article and then used the highlights from Ruben Van Havermaet to explore more about new media, including spending a few hours reading Andrew Plotkin’s interactive fiction game Shade.   And, Jeremy Douglass’s website made me think about what it means to be an English major in the 21st century as I approach the 25th anniversary of my own graduation.

Finding Middle Ground in the Reading Debate

It seems I’ve been reading a lot about reading lately.  A recent article in the Chronicle has prompted several bloggers to consider what reading means in the 21st century.   Will Richardson reflected on his own reading practices and what educators should be doing to foster online literacy.   Sean Sharp thought about what online reading practices mean for online writing practices.

Mark Bauerline, the author of the Chronicle article, is not fan of the digital age.  He is the author of The Dumbest Generation:  How the Digital Age Stupefies Young Americans and Jeopardizes Our Future (Or, Don’t Trust Anyone Under 30).  I haven’t read the book and I’m not sure I will since at this point in my learning I am looking for arguments from the center.  Plus, I think we can get a good sense of what he believes from his article in the Chronicle.

Here’s the crux of his argument in one sentence: “We must recognize that screen scanning is but one kind of reading, a lesser one, and that it conspires against certain intellectual habits requisite to liberal-arts learning.”  Bauerline sees himself and others as the “stewards of literacy” who must protect students from themselves by providing them with rigorous reading experiences.  (Even as I write that sentence, I’m picturing the student in one of Michael Wesch’s videos holding up a sign indicating that students simply don’t do the assigned reading.)

I have not found such a conspiracy in my own life.  Web-based reading has expanded my practice rather than changing it.  I continue to read books, both fiction and nonfiction, while like Richardson, I have transferred almost all my more temporal reading such as news and correspondence to the web.  My “books” have changed a bit since I purchased my Kindle.  But my practice is similar whether I’m reading an online text, a Kindle text, or an old-fashioned book. Particularly in terms of non-fiction, I always have a pencil in my hand.  The Kindle and Diigo come with a digital pencil in the form of their highlighting and annotation tools.   And, for Daniel Schon’s book that I just started reading last night, I’ve got a Ticonderoga along with a pack of sticky notes tucked into the front cover.  I do find a growing preference for digital reading as it is easier to search my highlights and annotations.  But there is something worthwhile in paging through an analog book, reviewing what I underlined or annotated.  In the hunt for a particular quote, I often find other useful comments.

The pragmatist in me is looking for common ground in this conversation.  Bauerlein points to it in his article when he quotes Jakob Neilsen, a Web researcher who has written extensively on web-based reading habits.  Nielsen says,

I continue to believe in the linear, author-driven narrative for educational purposes. I just don’t believe the Web is optimal for delivering this experience. Instead, let’s praise old narrative forms like books and sitting around a flickering campfire — or its modern-day counterpart, the PowerPoint projector. We should accept that the Web is too fast-paced for big-picture learning. No problem; we have other media, and each has its strengths. At the same time, the Web is perfect for narrow, just-in-time learning of information nuggets — so long as the learner already has the conceptual framework in place to make sense of the facts.

There is a place for multiple kinds of reading in multiple kind of formats and our job as educators is to help students practice with all those different types.