Micro Engagement is Killing Our Edublogging Community

One of the elements I have noticed that has changed in out edublogging community is the number of comments that are added to blog posts. The lack of discussion and further conversation is something I have missed from the blogging experience. Writing and reflecting upon my own practice is great in itself, but the ensuing discussions that occurred as a result of sharing often helped deepen my understanding or challenge how I was thinking. This depth of engagement seems to be a fading part of our writing community.

Since starting #28daysofwriting I have been able to re-ignite my reading and consumption of other people’s thinking through the blog posts that have been shared. I have been grateful for the few comments that have been added to my own blog posts so far this month, but am relatively surprised by the lack commenting and engagement I see around the education blogging community.

As my colleague and friend Ewan puts it in his latest post:

given the number of comments left on the first 14 days of this 2015 writing adventure compared to the flowing discussions one might have seen 10 years ago, I’m not sure anyone cares about many blog posts any more.

The engagement from over 110 educational bloggers for #28daysofwriting would suggest that it is still a viable format for reflection. But whether we care enough about other blogs is another thing.

Perhaps this is to do with the growing number of blogs that are active and the quality and breadth of blogging tools we have at our disposal. It would stand that an increase in the amount of posts that are shared and the number of educational blogs, would challenge the number of discussions that can be started. Maybe it is not that people do not care about blog posts but they are much more likely to be using that energy on their own blog.

I made the following diagram to help me think this through.

blog post engagement

There is nothing wrong with the amber lit retweeting and sharing, but for many people we are sharing in an attempt to have the most impact on others. The micro engagement that occurs as people share without reading and, reposting content without engaging any further, is much more prevalent than the more in depth discussions of 10 years ago.

Aaron mentioned in a comment on a post the other day that the rise of the mobile browsing experience is also another reason why people do not comment as much anymore.

At the macro level, the full realisation of a blog post’s impact, teachers think differently after reading something and act differently as a result (with their colleagues or with their class). I have been fortunate enough to be able to share ideas that have had such an impact. The usual way I have learned about such an effect is by reading other blog posts, as teachers reflect on their version of things and how they have adapted my original idea.

Of course we need content to inspire and challenge us, so we need educators writing about their experiences in the classroom. I want more and more people using blogging as a reflective tool and practice. Perhaps what we need is a focus on discussion, on building on each other’s ideas and then reflecting ourselves. And maybe it is this closing of the loop that is the most powerful.

What do you think? Is this micro engagement something that is eroding the discussions present in the community or are they simply happening elsewhere? What’s your take on it?

On a post lamenting the lack of commenting it is of course now mandatory to leave a comment 😉

The Redundancy of a Knowledge Deficit Model

stirling

I have been thinking about the presence of a knowledge deficit disposition or approach to learning for many years now. I often talk about the experience I had on a project a few years back supporting some heritage sites in their design of learning. During some immersion into the experience of learning we stepped into a guided tour around the castle we were in. The painful experience I had was more to do with the learning process than any ancient torture device or prison chamber.

There had a been a specific blindness to any knowledge that was present within the group to begin with. There was an assumption that we had none and that we were there to laud over the expertise shared by our guide. So transfixed by the woven tales of scripted knowledge we would drift along enlightened by every stopping point. Hopefully our brains would not spill this knowledge into the moat as we crossed the drawbridge on the way home. To ensure this expert knowledge was secured for the younglings there might be some paper rubbings with some crayons or charcoal.

We got a puppy before Christmas and have just started to go to some dog training classes. The instructor soon lapsed into the same type of disposition, assuming we knew nothing. Sure we have less experience, but knowledge is freely accessible nowadays and the time of the expert is shrinking. Endless research and reading has put us in a stronger position as we have knowledge, well at least access to it. In fact when it comes to looking after a dog there is all sorts of conflicting knowledge. Being able to use that knowledge expertly is a different matter.

Deeply understanding how the knowledge set is connected requires something very different, a level of expertise in the knowledge that doesn’t work to a script or to a guided tour.

Back at the castle. If students, visitors, families and the general public coming to experience those ancient stones were seen as bringing different ideas and relevant knowledge it becomes a completely different starting point. A start that might lead in lots of learning directions.

 

Thinking about writing about Thinking

Time

As we hit the midway point of this journey of a full month of blogging everyday, (#28daysofwriting) I am just looking back on where I started and some of the challenges that I faced establishing a steady habit and what I have learned.

So the 28 minute time constraint seems to have been pretty handy in setting a limit that still allows ideas to flow and some time to think whilst writing. I have had a few days in the last 2 weeks when I have wanted a little longer, but I am happy with how I have been able to carve out the half an hour or so everyday to sit and write. So I have learned I can find the time when I need to – even just half an hour. Time was cited as the biggest challenge by those involved. I am hopeful that for everyone taking part they will form a better understanding of how we create and protect this precious time – or simply why it is still such a challenge.

The image above is a word cloud of the biggest challenges to getting into a regular blogging habit shared by the 100+ people who are involved this month.

I have learned that writing in the evening has been my go-to time for the activity. I might switch over and do some morning writing and see how that goes for me during the remainder of the month. Learning when we write best or when we have a preference to do so is hopefully a better understanding those involved in #28daysofwriting will have.

One of the most important positive outcomes for me was a shift in the way I have been reflecting and thinking during the day. I actually felt this very early on and it has been something that has continued. I am thinking about my writing more and identifying aspects of my work, or concepts I want to explore in more detail. Previously this was something I felt only when I was sat staring at the blinking cursor, ready to go. I have learned that thinking about writing more regularly throughout the day has helped clarify my thinking. I have opened up the positive aspects of the thinking process that goes on with writing to be woven into the fabric of my day.

Getting Your Hands Dirty

About four years ago I ran into this lovely blog post from designer Bret Victor, titled: A Brief Rant on the Future of Interaction Design. It struck a particular chord with me and my developing dissatisfaction with the interactive experience we see in the classroom.

When we consider the type of play and tactile exploration of the world we experience when we are really young and then put that against the way we interact with devices and screens nowadays. As Victor explains much of the discussion about interaction and user interface and experience design misses something fundamental.

In this rant, I’m not going to talk about human needs. Everyone talks about that; it’s the single most popular conversation topic in history.

And I’m not going to talk about technology. That’s the easy part, in a sense, because we control it. Technology can be invented; human nature is something we’re stuck with.

I’m going to talk about that neglected third factor, human capabilities. What people can do. Because if a tool isn’t designed to be used by a person, it can’t be a very good tool, right?

As he progresses through the post he helps the reader, well in fact, reminds the reader about our amazing our hands are. The tools we use to interact and manipulate so many different objects around us everyday. And it is this dexterity and capability we underplay with our current designs of the digital interface.

I call this technology Pictures Under Glass. Pictures Under Glass sacrifice all the tactile richness of working with our hands, offering instead a hokey visual facade.

Is that so bad, to dump the tactile for the visual? Try this: close your eyes and tie your shoelaces. No problem at all, right? Now, how well do you think you could tie your shoes if your arm was asleep? Or even if your fingers were numb? When working with our hands, touch does the driving, and vision helps out from the back seat.

Pictures Under Glass is an interaction paradigm of permanent numbness. It’s a Novocaine drip to the wrist. It denies our hands what they do best. And yet, it’s the star player in every Vision Of The Future.

And it was this image below from Bret Victor’s post that immediately made me think of the complexity of how we manipulate and sense the world around us with our hands. The variations are huge.

Hands

So where does that leave us in learning and education? How does this make us rethink the way we are working digitally in the classroom?

I for one maintain a healthy dissatisfaction for the classroom technologies we see. But specifically how our children are physically interacting with these technologies and their associated resources. I imagine a time when the human capability Victor refers to and how children use it to learn about the world, forms a much stronger part of their technology experience. 

Interestingly after nearly four years (since the original rant from Bret Victor) the challenge hasn’t changed. Our “Pictures under glass” experiences are more refined than ever, but the integration of meaningful tactility and the convergence of complex haptics seems just as far away. I wonder when we will see a shift from refining the visual to exploring the tactility of our interaction experience.

Image from Bret Victor’s post A Brief Rant on the Future of Interaction Design

A Late November Day

I can still remember the excitement and noise behind me to this day. I was collecting my class of 32 Year 5 and 6 children from a morning break time during a rather charcoal-streaked-sky day in November. English Novembers are full of Autumnal colours and damp weather, this day was turning into just that, typical of that time of the year.

Perhaps the clamouring and excited voices were about the engaging lesson I had planned? Perhaps they were simply excited about learning with me? Maybe just pleased to see me? In all honesty I didn’t ask any of these questions, because I knew straight away what it was.

The morning had been great so far, I always decided to take each session as it comes but the day had started well. There was even some sunshine casting strained shadows across the car park as I arrived. The morning’s literacy session had been fun and we were enjoying the Shaun Tan work we had been exploring. Assembly, tick. Then break.

Those strained lengths of light that welcomed me to school had gone. Replaced with that charcoal sky. Something else I noticed was how wind had picked up, swirling in amongst the school buildings. The usual twisting leaf and crisp packet flurry buffeted against the Year 2 classrooms as the children went outside. I knew what was in store. I had seen this before and I knew my class.

A quick change of ends and resources prep for the next session, punctuated with a slurp of terrible coffee and I was ready to kick off again. Walking up the slope towards the waiting lines in the top playground I realised my predictions were happening as I suspected. The wind had changed everything and my class were completely different from when i had last seen them.

The calm start to the day had been replaced with exuberance and hyper-excited voices behind me as I led my class back towards the buildings. My mind began whirring as I knew that whatever I had planned needed changing, adapting. I always marvelled at how a change of weather could have such an effect on your class, something I learned the hard way back in my first year of teaching at university. Before everyone had a chance to wipe their feet I was set.

Adjust the sails and press on.