300

For the second consecutive year, Colegio Roosevelt has organized a community build in one of the most impoverished district of Lima, alongside Techo, which is the South American equivalent of Habitat for Humanity.

The idea to start a Techo club at Roosevelt stemmed from a high school student who approached my colleague, Corey Topf and together they delved into this project. Apart from providing emergency housing for the less fortunate, this club aims to raise awareness about poverty in the community and break down stereotypes that plague society. The latter is seen as a central aspect in the club's ethos since stereotypes act indeed as a barrier in a country like Peru which has such a great economic divide.

Since its inception, this club has grown considerably and last year we launched it in Middle School. Students are active throughout the year as they fundraise to pay for the house that they construct at different Techo events, which also include the school community build.


So last Saturday and Sunday, 300 members of the community composed by students, teachers, parents, admin and members of the board ventured into the hills of San Juan de Lurigancho, one of the poorest districts in Lima, to build 26 emergency homes. As I walked with my group of students, I felt chills running down my spine. Here I was sharing this experience with my "tribe" of 300. I still struggle to articulate this catharsis; all I can say is that never before did I feel so connected with the rest of my community. It is, after all, through experiences like this one that we relate to one another other and become cognizant of the strong ties that hold us together.

Moreover, this is yet another reminder of how students shine when they are exposed to real-world problems. Throughout the weekend, they made genuine connections with the families that they were helping and worked collaboratively to finish building the house on time.  This kind of experience allows students to get some perspective on the issues that plague our society and understand that their actions, no matter how small, do matter.

Students know too well the difference between what is purposeful and what is contrived. They yearn to be involved in experiential learning where successful outcomes are not defined by numbers but by the  interactions with the real world.

Redefining the Role of History in 21st Century Education

Traditional history is still predominant in 21st century education. Teaching experience has indeed showed me that traditional history is a perfect avenue for those educational systems who feel compelled to prescribe content.  It is also easier for those teachers who revere textbook-driven delivery of information because history content is already all laid out in those stale pages. It is not at all uncommon for middle school students to be exposed to burdensome content ranging, sequentially, from ancient civilizations (many of of them)  up to the Cold War.  

I learned French for five years in secondary school, obtaining a "B" on my O-level, but alas, I've never really spoken a word of it. My teacher was more focused on the reading and the writing. As I look back I cannot help but question the purpose of it all. In the same way, I believe students taking social studies should have a clear purpose: They must be empowered to "speak" the language of concepts. I'm not trying to imply that history is irrelevant as I'm a history buff myself; however, the content (which is not taught through a conceptual lens) is. European exploration taught as a stand-alone topic is in no way relevant compared to when it is conveyed as a major cause of poverty in a poverty unit. In the same way, the French Revolution plays a more significant role if studied to identify patterns which allow students to understand the significance of the Arab Spring. History is indeed a great starting point to understand global issues which are far more relevant to students being citizens of the world.

Global issues facilitate the acquisition of relevant, overarching concepts such as scarcity, globalization and sustainability. These can certainly be explored in history, but we can only extract their true essence  as we delve into global issues and make connections with the past.  

I believe that as learning becomes more conceptually- based, units taught in Humanities or Social Studies will need to be redefined.  In fact, it is already happening in various schools. The Humanities curriculum outline at Colegio Roosevelt, in Lima, has truly evolved over the last three years as it is starting explore more relevant issues such as water scarcity, poverty and aid, and much more.

Finally these are the two take-aways from this post:

1) History taught as a stand-alone discipline is an outdated model in concept-driven education
2) Global issues can redefine the role of history in education making it more focused and purposeful

The Post-it Disruption

I took this picture last Friday, at the end of a 90-minute lesson with one of my Grade 9 Humanities classes. Needless to say, I am usually disapproving of students leaving a mess behind them, but this time it was different. This picture represents the strenuous thinking process that my 14 students have been exposed to over the course of the last two weeks.

Before, discussing Friday’s class, I ought to put it into context first. This population unit, which is currently being explored by both Grade 9 Humanities classes, embraces both the MYP and PBL educational philosophy. In addressing the unit question, “when is population a problem?” learners are required formulate a research question that addresses a real-world problem to a target audience.  

While my students are not new to the idea of addressing a real-world audience, this is the first time that they are being given such autonomy; hence, when I shared this assignment with my classes, two weeks ago, I was fully aware of the initial discomfort they would inevitably experience. As one of my students suggested, this would “be hard because we do not simply have to follow instructions. We have to come up with the whole plan.”

 Student Sample Work

Due to some scheduling conflicts, I was able to avail myself of a one-time, out of the ordinary, five-hour Humanities period with both of my classes, simultaneously. Students would use this time to come up with a research question and write down a proposal that would have to be approved. I strongly believe that students benefit from having ample time to delve uninterruptedly into one task. Prior to this, students had been exposed to introductory activities that evolved around the unique characteristics of concepts and the formulation of meaningful research questions (or so I thought). During this lengthy chunk of time, I gave feedback to my students and could attest student engagement. 

At the end of the week, as I went through my students' proposals (and approved most all of them), I felt bolstered by what had been, until then, a smooth sailing and rewarding experience. This was indeed the calm before the storm.  

During the last months, I've read various inspiring books and articles about innovation in education. They all seem to agree on one essential factor: Paradigm shifts in the classroom don’t come easy. Unlike more traditional teacher-driven pedagogies, student-driven education is non-linear; therefore, both students and teachers are vulnerable to unpredictability. I experienced first hand this vulnerability when I realized that the some of those same research questions that I had so enthusiastically approved only a week earlier, were in fact too broad.

I must admit that I have underestimated how challenging it would be to guide students through their research questions. On one hand, students are required to identify a problem relating to population; however, the teacher has to poke students in the right direction. After discussing this with my MYP coordinator, I realized that I had unwittingly mislead my students who had by then already started their research stage. For instance, one of my students had come up with this research question:

         What are the environmental implications of overpopulation?

While this question might seem appropriate at a first glance because it incorporates important concepts such as sustainability, overpopulation and depletion, it is way too broad to be effectively addressed. Environmental implications include a wide range of ecosystems ranging from deserts to glaciers. It is unrealistic to address effectively all of these questions in the same research.

So two weeks into this project, I had to concede that I had rushed into accepting some of my students’ proposals and explained this candidly to them. So, we placed all the research questions around the class and we gave each other feedback. The MYP coordinator also chimed in. Stacks of post-it notes were decimated in minutes, but the room was buzzing with activity. Together, we indentified important components that make research questions focused and clear such as the manageability and the specificity. 

One of my classes was able to modify their questions easily whereas my second class of 14, mentioned at the beginning of this article, struggled. I saw students who are usually confident and poised experience frustration and uncertainty for the first time. Some students decided to scrap their original research. They realized that, even though their questions sounded elaborate and specific, they simply weren't manageable. For instance, one student was looking at how population density affects urbanization in Lima. This would not have been manageable since the answer is simple: it does not in Lima. So some students had to go back to the drawing board and think harder.

At the end of this class, I had mixed feelings. On one hand, I felt responsible because I had misguided my students by approving some of their broad and unmanageable research questions; however, this experience was also reassuring. Aren’t students, after all, experiencing real-world challenges? They are experiencing first-hand the essential role that trial and error plays in the accomplishment meaningful outcomes. Students are truly immersed in this project because they feel ownership. As they do this, they are adapting to unforeseen scenarios and striving to come up with creative problem-solving. 

My role as a facilitator is to learn from my own mistakes and be there for my students. This past weekend, I was able to Skype with some of them and bounce off ideas. As a result, we are now back on track with a better plan and an extension to our set deadline. Today, some students chose to stay back, after school, to work for two solid hours on their project. These kids have indeed accepted the challenge and are rising to the occasion. 

As I reflect on these past two weeks, it becomes unmistakably clear why we teachers tend to hesitate to give up control. This is daunting to us because as soon as we give up control to implement more student-led projects, the latter become our "equals" and we become more prone to failing and looking vulnerable in their eyes. Giving up control is disruptive and we cease to be infallible. This thought process is understandable, but we need to strive to get of of our comfort zone. 

I'm choosing to give up control because this is the only way forward. Back in the day, I was told that I had follow instructions if I wanted to be a successful citizen of the world. This has shaped me deeply and it has taken me years to learn how to trust my own judgement and be my own problem-solver. Following instructions does not get you so far when you lack independence and curiosity.

Finally, I choose to give up control because I believe in genuine professional growth. This experience has been truly a learning curve for both myself and the students. This IS my professional development; it is organic because there are no scripts and most importantly no contrived agendas; I am learning with and from my students as we break away from the old school thinking in the search of real-world contexts. 

Tweak it

Last week my colleague made a very interesting point about students’ misconception that detailed information is contingent on the length of their written arguments rather than their content. To address this issue, she encourages them to be concise.

As I reflect on my teaching I realize that I help spread this myth of detail and wordiness. Many students in my class write shorter paragraphs that lack detailed analysis. Up until now I have always asked those students to write MORE information, but I think the time has come for me to change my pitch. 

The abundance of information has shaped us for good and for worse. On a daily basis we are submerged with information in the form of emails, text messages, blogs, videos and much more. In this context of overwhelming abundance, conciseness and loquacity become essential survival skills determining whether our message will be absorbed or discarded by our audience. 

In his new book “To Sell is Human”, Daniel H. Pink highlights the purposefulness of conciseness when pitching ideas to our audience. Interestingly enough, a university now uses 140-character responses from applicants as one of the criteria in their selection of future candidates. The character limit is a constraint that requires that students be resourceful and creative in their responses.

So I cannot help but question how my students would perform with these constraints if they were applying at the Tippie Business School at the University of Iowa. More importantly, how would my students perform in the real world were succinctness will be central for their survival? Knowing my students and their teacher, my guess is that many of them would find it challenging to say the least.

So my plan is to expose my students to this kind of process. In the next month, I will expose students to a suitable, real-world challenge that needs to be addressed in not more than 140 characters. It will be interesting to go through the process of elimination, starting with a long text and slowly trimming it down to 140 characters. In this way students will appreciate that conciseness does indeed accentuate the message. 

So I guess I ought to lead by example. Tonight, I will be tweeting this reminder to myself:

Detail is not defined by the lengthiness of an idea but by its essence.  

Quo Vadis MYP?

In my first post I have asked myself a myriad of questions regarding education and my role within it. One of these questions was frankly a painful one because never before had I questioned the IB Middle Years Programme. 

My deep appreciation for the MYP is strongly linked to my experience as a student, which was mostly based on memorization and content.  I can still reminisce the time where, as a 14 year old, I doodled aimlessly as time elapsed at an agonizingly slow pace. I’m sure many can relate to such scenario especially those who like me grew up in a bleak, rigid educational British system. Having said that, I still cherish happy memories from this time such as the nicknames we gave teachers, the pranks we played on them and the endless hours chasing a football during PE class.  Now that I look back, I am cognizant that these were happy moments indeed because they were a distraction from the mundane boredom of the “core” classes.

Joe Bonnici as a student was clueless.  In fact, I never really understood how one could score full points on assignments because there was not such thing as a criterion. My tests and assignments were a hit and miss. Some grades were high and others were average; however, I could not really tell the difference between the two. I never could articulate what made my essays in Italian “good” and my science labs “bad”.  I was fully aware of my strong linguistic skills since I could read and write fluently in three different languages yet I could not make a clear distinction between grade boundaries.   To me success on test-taking was as random as winning cash on a slot machine. There were no skills involved; in my head this was all driven by fate. This misconception ultimately stifled my meta-cognition and made me a passive learner.

Some years later, in my first real teaching post, I crossed paths with the MYP. This was challenging and mind blowing. Before my first teaching experience the explicit teaching of skills had been a foreign notion to me. For instance, I was unaware that there was a specific format required to write paragraphs, which a included topic, developing, supporting and concluding sentences. What now seems basic, back then was unknown to me. In fact, I had to learn these skills as I taught my students. I soon realized that my students were being given a toolbox, which would allow them to be more independent learners.   

Moreover, the subject criteria and rubrics allowed me to give meaningful feedback to students. Once again, this was a paradigm shift for me. Since I had not been exposed to rubrics before, it took me nearly two years to truly get my head around the distinct features of the criteria. Once, I managed to familiarize with the criteria, I could set more straightforward and clear assessment task sheets; I could give meaningful feedback to students; Students could genuinely reflect on their strengths and areas of improvement with the help of the level descriptors of the task specific-rubric. This was indeed an eye-opener for me as I could see in my students what I had lacked some years before: My students were more aware of their own learning and hence were able to play a more active role in their own education.

As I continued my ongoing professional development over the years I became more familiar with concept-based learning. I came to appreciate how an understanding of a concept is indeed a higher form of learning as it allows for transfer and application of knoweldge. Through the modeling of solid teaching, I was able to figure out that traditional Humanities content did not drive a unit plan; instead it was the concepts such as sustainability, systems, conflict and many more. This was yet another paradigm shift for me that forced me to scrap my traditional Humanities unit plans. I understood that there was no sense in teaching three ancient civilizations units in one year because they did not allow for a genuine flow of relevant concepts. Most importantly, they did not make learning for my students relevant. These units were hence replaced with relevant global issues such as poverty, water scarcity and global warming which served a better purpose for concept-based learning, hence enabling students to address real world problems. 

I chose this profession because I wanted to push my students to be active, independent learners. Even though this will sound rather cliché, I see the adolescent me in my students and I feel it is my responsibility to expose them to purposeful learning experience because I owe it to my 14- year-old self. It is clear that The MYP has given me the philosophy to deliver such a learning experience, but now I am starting to ask questions. 

One crucial problem that I see is that most MYP schools still choose to offer a traditional schedule with 8 different subjects. I believe that this model smothers meaningful interdisciplinary learning and the authenticity in assessments.

Innovation is currently one of the big buzzwords in education and rightfully so. In a time of global economical and environmental dilemmas we need our current student body to be conscientious global citizens who can be resourceful and creative problem-solvers.  Education literature highlights the essence in exposing our students to real-world problems and encouraging them to partake in the creation of solutions to the aforementioned dilemmas. For instance, students should be understanding not only the implications of water scarcity but also create real world solutions that target a real world audience, such as the creation of economic water filtration systems that could be used in the poor slum areas of Peru. However, this is frustratingly hard to achieve when you have a system that forces students to work on six to eight simultaneous assignments.

Let us empathize for a second with these kids. How realistic is it in the real world to work simultaneously on eight separate projects? I personally would loathe such scenario. Empathy is another buzzword in education, but it seems that we educators sometimes struggle to empathize with our students. Frankly, if I were trying to juggle six projects all at once, I would inevitably be required to prioritize and tackle the others only at a superficial level. This would eventually make me lose my drive to learn.

Another issue I face in Humanities is that at times as we tackle real world issues, we are limited by the boundaries of the subjects’ objectives. At times students require scientific and engineering skills that are not currently taught in Humanities. I could indeed plan an interdisciplinary unit with my Science and Design Technology colleagues, but this would encounter obvious logistical issues and all teachers would need to be on board with this. This is not to say that such an undertaking would be impossible because I am sure that there are teachers out there who have created effective interdisciplinary units, but it is indisputably counterintuitive to continue persisting on an outdated model that separates knowledge into distinct, stand-alone components. When people in the real world are faced with real dilemmas, they are required to use a transdisciplinary combination of skills. So once again, what is the logic behind our traditional scheduling in education in a current context where we are striving to innovate and ameliorate our pedagogy?

When I talked to my MYP coordinator he made a valid point: the Middle Years Programme simply gives you a framework; it does not impose scheduling boundaries. While I agree with this statement, I still question the IB’s approach on this matter. If one of the main objectives for this programme is indeed interdisciplinary learning, wouldn’t it be worthwhile to push schools to be bolder and create more customized and fluid schedules. Humanities and Design Technology could easily merge for one semester into a Global Issues course where students avail themselves of the indispensable critical skills taught in humanities while using the design cycle to create an authentic product.   Design Technology could then team up with Science in the second semester whereas Humanities would blend with English.  I do understand that such an undertaking would be daunting to say the least; however with some pragmatism and resourcefulness it could be a realistically achievable objective.  Rather than being be limited by a 90-minute or even worse a 45-minute period schedule, students could take advantage of a more significant chunk of time to truly delve in their work and be productive.

I believe that we inevitably tend to question the ideas and models in which we have an investment. The Middle Years Programme is a framework that has indeed allowed me to grow as a learner. I struggle to envision myself working in a different educational programme because I have grown fond of it. However, I believe it is time for the IB to become bolder. It is time that we all, the different stakeholders of the educational community, cease to be shortsighted and start to look beyond preparing our students for university. We all have to be held accountable in making a more considerable effort to put into practice the ideas we so passionately discuss in professional development seminars. It is daunting I agree. The unfamiliarity of a revolutionary and fluid schedule of interdisciplinary subjects frightens my linear and structured self. But it is time we get out of our comfort zone; after all, isn’t that what innovation is all about?    

Paradigm Shift

Last week, I attended the Innovate Conference in Sao Paulo and was exposed for the first time to the concept of digital reputation. Some presenters such as Will Richardson and Scott Klososky talked at length about the importance of extending social networking for professional purposes. I was already aware of websites such as Linkedin that allow for professional networking, but I frankly  had dismissed this as yet another internet gimmick. Before attending this conference, I had always been under the impression that internet users were supposed to leave an untraceable digital footprint to keep away from predators and other crazy boogie characters.  It is clear that I was wrong.

In a world where internet plays such a central role, it becomes essential for one to build a solid digital reputation. One needs to know how to network with others and market himself in order to thrive professionally. For instance, a freelance photographer who has a strong digital portfolio is more likely to be in demand due to the online reputation she has made for herself.  Bearing this in mind, I realize that I need to change my habits and ask myself whether I'm giving students the right tools to build their online reputation.

I have the dire belief that we need to model the skills that we want our students to acquire. As I try to wrap my mind around how to purposefully use pedagogy to expose students to this new concept, I have decided to start this blog. I reckon it would make sense to go through the process of building up my own digital presence and have first hand experience. I wanted, however, to do something that was relevant to my life. By sharing my personal thoughts, I would be reflecting on my own practice and maybe reaching out to a wider audience to engage in some purposeful conversation. I'm still wondering if people will have the time to read this blog and interact; nevertheless, I believe that this will be a fruitful learning experience for me.

I'm on my ninth year of international teaching. Like every other educator who loves this profession and strives to get it right, I carry with me the agonizing perplexity of my role and purpose as teacher. At this relatively early stage of my career I seem to have less answers and more questions, which fills me with an explosive mix of frustration and reassurance. I feel frustrated because I don't have tangible answers that would grant me immediate serenity and boost my ego. On the other hand, I feel reassured because I know that I am stretching myself to professional and  personal growth.  After all, the people who think they have it all figured out, are usually the ones who are most oblivious to the environment around them.

Daniel Pink views problem identification as one of the most essential skills in the 21st century. One has to be able to ask the right questions in order to reach a higher level of thinking. In Out of Our Minds, Ken Robinson discusses how the paradigm shift brought about by Heliocentrism would not have been possible had people like Copernicus not asked right questions. The theory of geocentrism  had been until then revered by astronomers.  The same astronomers, however, were struggling to grasp an understanding of the constellation because their theories were all based on the wrong foundation. No matter how hard they tried they would have never succeeded because they refused to tackle their observations with a different kind of thinking; instead they chose not to question previous theories because in their eyes they were flawless facts. The fact is that all their hard work was fruitless because it was based on the wrong beliefs. This thought encapsulates all my inner fears. What if I'm one of those astronomers? What if I am putting all my time and energy in a system which is inapt for the current socio-economic contexts?

I've taught MYP all my life and love the philosophy behind the programme. The MYP in my opinion surpasses other programmes because of its main focus on the acquisition of skills and concepts rather than content, which as a stand alone focus, is as obsolete as dial up connections. The MYP has a vision of interdisciplinary learning which ultimately would make learning more authentic and applicable to the real world. For instance, If we had to tackle important global issues such as water scarcity, wouldn't we be required to tackle it from different angles rather than just from one subject area? If students are solving a real world problem such as building low-cost efficient water filtration system don't they need a variety tools which can range from scientific to humanities skills via mathematical and design tech? In that sense I find the thinking behind the MYP to be progressive. Nonetheless, this leads me to some other essential questions: Does the current system of 8 courses being taught simultaneously and distinctly facilitate interdisciplinary learning? Do we really need to be learning these traditional subjects using such a traditional setup? Do we need to be learning traditional subjects in the first place?

The more I read about and experience education first hand, the more I sense the need for a paradigm shift. Books such as The Global Achievement Gap by Tony Wagner and Why School? by Will Richardson raise some important questions about the purpose of the current educational system.  I believe that those of us who are in the trenches question their system because they truly want to leave a legacy.

We inevitably question the things that we are truly passionate about. I am at a point were I am questioning the programme I so love, the MYP,  my pedagogy and ultimately my own teaching philosophy. I can hardly understand the motions in my head let alone trying to come up with answers. However, I will try to articulate all these doubts in my future posts and also celebrate my small daily successes.