Just Plain Bill

Technology and Education

From time to time, I stop and ponder the question, “What is the impact of technology on human evolution and education?” This is especially true as I’m continually touched by a bit of spray from the tsunami of technological changes (excuse my lyrical license) that makes up my everyday life: teaching others to do something new, or different. 

As I am well into my seventh decade of teaching and learning, I often wonder what my grandchildren will draw upon that’s equal to what I experienced at a similar age. My formal education for example, started when our country had just entered World War II. That’s before the age of a television in our living rooms, and even before a majority of homes had refrigerators. Most had ice literally delivered to their homes for their iceboxes.

I remember clearly when the first Bird’s Eye frozen dinner was offered at a local supermarket, and the lines out the door with folks wanting to buy this latest convenience. I’m not saying the frozen dinner was the technological marvel; there were only a few homes with freezers until I was around 8 or 9 years old.

Having two cars was extremely rare. For quite awhile, standard equipment on those cars were a 3-speed “stick” transmission and tires with tubes. There were no recording devices to speak of, only 78-rpm records (really fast and with only one song on each side). If you had a good enough antenna, you might watch one of only three television networks. Radio stations broadcast in AM only.

Yet it still seemed so incredible at the time. I was fascinated by the wonder and magic of a crystal radio, constructed from 50 cents worth of parts by this preteen. And to be able to listen to the AM radio through a cheap earphone – magic!

What will my grandchildren recall when looking back, as I have, starting in kindergarten in a portable classroom without any lights, constructed quickly to handle children of mothers joining the war effort. During my 13-year journey in our public education system, there was no technology to speak of. We had manual typewriters and slide rules, and learned how to spell by memorization, rather than depending on Spellcheck, an on-line dictionary, word and phrase completion, or an iPhone app – whew! Hard to imagine for someone who, because of reading at over 500 words a minute and losing the ending of many words, became a poor speller.

I’ve experienced almost unbelievable and difficult-to-describe changes through all my years, from being taught by teachers with a normal education – usually two years – to where I’ve been a master teacher to at least five decades of eager educators myself, distancing myself as far as possible from the rote, lecture, repressive and autocratic dispensing of “facts” I endured.

To all of this remembrance, you might ask “so what?” Well, I would love to telepathically chat with my grandkids several decades in the future to see what their lists will include, of their experiences and conditions as they were growing up.

Who knows? Don’t count out the possibility that may yet occur, as technology continues to expand exponentially.   

Just Plain Bill

Recess Rock Equals Energy Unequaled

I now live about three city blocks from an elementary school. When I’m working at home, I can hear the laughter, hollering, and all sorts of sounds of energy and excitement from around 100 children between the ages of five and eleven, making good use of their time out of class.

When elementary students are asked to list their favorite time of the school day, they usually say “recess”, with lunch or PE coming in a close second. Ever wonder why?

As an under-sized, poorly coordinated child, I didn’t especially like recess, or PE. I would usually get chased at recess, and at both recess games and PE, I was the last one chosen – when the teacher said one team had to pick “Billy.” One thing for sure, I was able to burn some energy running from the numerous bullies I encountered on the playground.

I eventually grew to a substantial 5 feet, 6 inches, and my coordination improved to the extent that I excelled at physical challenges in the Marine Corps, earning a brown belt in judo. I also lettered three years as a college wrestler.

I carried those memories of being left out as a young boy into my inclusive recess and physical education assignments as a public school teacher. Under my watch, no student was left behind in our activities. I found places for the students who were undersized and less-than well coordinated. After all, wasn’t recess invented to give kids a break? Why let it morph into dread?

So, when I learn that some teachers have taken recess away or sit students during PE, my hair stands on end. ALL students can benefit from running off some energy, and getting to exercise their vocal cords as well.

Just Plain Bill

They called me “Money”,

or Mr. Bill, or Mr. Bubbles…

I returned to the public school classroom last year, after leaving my last job teaching a class of 1^st graders in Concord, CA over 35 years ago. During that hiatus, I’ve been a corporate trainer, vice president, and an adjunct professor at U.C. Berkeley and at our local community college. So I’ve really never left the education profession completely, but working with students from all ages and grades in Santa Fe, NM (including four year olds in a pre-K classroom) brought back some rich memories of facilitating learning for a captive audience. (That’s one major distinction between teaching children in the public schools and teaching adults in a corporate or higher education setting; working with children is working with a “captive audience”, whereas the adults were somewhat free to either leave, act out, or check out except for their physical presence.)

In Santa Fe, I first substituted in a K-8 school, working as an aide. My day got underway with my helping a 3^rd grader with his “new math” (he didn’t know his time tables so how could he solve the problem the same way I did decades ago – using the “gizzinta” process?) and ended working with some 7^th graders in their orchestra class.

It was in the latter when a few 13-year olds asked me my name, to which I responded “Mr. Bill”. They immediately morphed that into paying a “bill”, and started calling me “Money.” I substituted in that school many times over the next three months, and felt special when the group of students called me “Mr. Money”. It felt like I had my very own posse.

That experience was great and the feelings of belonging extended to my high school assignment as a proctor for Common Core testing, when a 6 foot 4 inch junior taught me a new hand sign (which I guessed might have been either prohibited or obscene). Christian was his name, and he also made me an origami tulip with the scratch paper he didn’t use while being tested. I felt special, to say the least.

And last, but certainly not because they are the least - Mr. Bubbles was a name given to me by the pre-K four-year olds when I taught them the Alphabet Bubbles game at abcya.com site. I believe a little silliness goes a long way towards enhancing the learning process.

Teaching can be the greatest profession on Earth!

Just Plain Bill

Say What?

Sometimes you don’t have to look very far for subjects to share in a casual conversation.

This morning, when I was restarting my Internet connection, the list of networks available in my typical, sleepy, middle-class neighborhood – which is just outside of the San Francisco Bay area and one which could be labeled a commuter town with not much “going on” – I noticed the following network address:

“FBI Surveillance Van”

Wow! In my very own neighborhood! One would think the FBI would be a little more creative than naming their address so openly. I immediately looked out the window to see if I could catch a glimpse of their van.

Then, after opening this morning’s San Francisco Chronicle, my wife called my attention to the title of an article “FBI sets up a covert center for Super Bowl security.” Guess I’m not so crazy or paranoid after all, imagining I’m seeing an FBI agent “behind every tree”, with the site of the Super Bowl at least 34 miles away.

But should I feel safer?