Lipstick on the gorilla

Adam Wood presents a healthy dose of provocation in his article about the current state of education architecture in Australia.

https://www.aare.edu.au/blog/?p=3821
Adam Wood

The idea that resonated with me the most is the “faddishness of school design” – our fascination with the image of new school architecture.

New school designs also risk following the current trend for ‘Instagrammable’ architecture, buildings that look impressive from the outside but that disappoint inside to the point of being dysfunctional. The big challenge for Australia is to resist the faddishness of school design so problematic internationally, and focus on spaces that are genuinely useful and meaningful for students and teachers.

When developing a set of options for school design, a team researches a collection of visual precedents. These are photos of real examples of room layouts, facades, furniture and surface finishes. At there worst, they are merely a set of images dredged from the internet, with no story. These images are then used to justify to a client any design choices. What we are often missing is the narrative of the user experience.

Decision makers (clients) are often in a situation with high-investment, high stakes, short timelines and marketing pressure for enrolment. The user experience is something much harder to sell and to hook into, even if it is the core reason for a new building. The user experience is less “instagrammable.”

Our students deserve better than simply “that looks good”. Design choices can be articulated in a broader way than simply using imagery. Technology is providing an amazing array of tools to tell the story of new learning spaces.

We can create a rich set of user experience precedents that are complemented by the stock imagery so commonly lauded over. To create “genuinely useful and meaningful spaces” for teachers and learners we have to use narrative, virtualisation and imagery.

The narratives can also serve as the fixed points we use to evaluate the success of educational architecture.

  • How have we been able to bring to life these fictional accounts?
  • How close to reality were our design stories?
  • How do the user experiences compare after one, three, six and twelve months of post-occupancy?

Adam links out from his article to an interview with Adrian Leaman, who runs Building Use Studies and leads a UK educational charity the Usable Buildings Trust, who explains,

In post-occupancy evaluations, we often find that the results for the “Image” variable are much better than almost all the others. The occupants will tell you “It looks good, but it does not work well”. Lipstick on the gorilla was the way one designer described it! A pretty building but thermally it’s horrible, the ventilation’s terrible, the lighting is so-so, it’s very noisy, people want to escape from it and so on. The discourse about architecture and schools is very superficial. There is a reluctance for designers to re-visit buildings to see how they really work, and what people really think about them.

Here are some ideas to broaden the discourse and for us all to consider when we are involved in these projects.

  1. Observe the time and space of teaching and learning. Immerse your self in teaching and learning, carefully observe how a learning space functions, and how the users make it work for them. Explore the patterns you notice across multiple groups.
  2. Articulate what your learning community values the most. Share a set of principles about teaching and learning. Explain the hopes and dreams you have for the students in your community. As Ira Socol asks: “What do you want your children to be?”
  3. Question the story behind the imagery. Spend time exploring the stories portrayed in the images used in the project documentation. Question and probe for the story of the user experience. Don’t settle for “these are just some examples” – example of what experience? How do they articulate the experience we are striving to create?
  4. Create user experience precedents. Use narrative, imagery and virtual simulations to articulate design ideas. Capture case studies of existing user experience in the school to use as points of evaluation further into the process.
  5. Establish a framework for evaluation. Commit to pre- and post-occupancy long term, using the existing spaces and user experiences as a baseline. It is often a long road, so ensure it is invested in and referenced throughout the process by all stakeholders.

Image by Ozgu Ozden

At the Frontier of Redefining School

Over the weekend I have been doing some maintenance on this blog. I looked back on the archive and dug around in the old posts. It reminded me of the commitment to change I had when I became a teacher.

I was quick to align myself with other people making a change in the profession. It seemed that technology was a wave we were riding, a wave that would take us to change. I still think that technology as a catalyst has a huge role to play in the renewal of education and schools, but I think a different frontier is going unnoticed.

Every time a school builds a new set of learning spaces or a school system decides to build a new school, there is the opportunity for “school” to be completely redefined.

I am fortunate to be involved with some of the newest schools in Australia, both in the current design phases and in post-occupancy. Each example is an opportunity to push the system of “school” and to wash away the vestiges of an educational model that does not serve the needs of our young learners.

My projects involve establishing the base principles of teaching and learning as early as possible in the design process. Even before an architect is involved. The groundwork of establishing the First Principles of the overall project is essential and vital work. All too often this is not invested in and poorly conceived.

I was delighted to read Ira Socol’s post titled “What does it mean to build a school or to rebuild a school?” in which he echoes similar endeavours.

“I really ask all the architects here,” I said in response to an architect who had asked educators to be better clients — with bigger dreams, “to help develop those better clients by asking, at the very start, “what do you want your children to be?” Don’t ask about spaces or number of students or timelines or budget, not yet. Make that first question, “what do you want your children to be?” and help us remake education.”

If that first question is about spaces and student population, as Socol points out, it short-circuits the dialogue. No longer is there a value base being established or a shared morality, it becomes a wish-list discussion.

His question “what do you want your children to be?” cuts to the heart of what should be driving any educational architectural process. But this is equally true of existing schools and their existing practices. It is often much more challenging to escape old ideas.

If you want your children to be creative, to be collaborators, to be great communicators, to know how to make choices, to know how to build their own work and/or learning environments, to be kind, to be curious, to learn throughout their lives from the great wide world, to engage with technology well, to build healthy relationships and lead healthy lives… well… can you really do that within the closed boundaries of traditional schools? Can you do that with age-separated learning? with closed classroom doors? with separated subject areas? without seating choices? without technology choices? without culturally engaged learning groups?

When you reflect on the questions Ira Socol shares, you rapidly realise the physical environment is dependent on many other forces. They are intertwined and connected. When we tug on one another is affected.

QUESTIONSPRINCIPLES AND DEPENDENCIES
Can you really do that within the closed boundaries of traditional schools? Privacy, safety, community, partnerships
Can you do that with age-separated learning? Age Vs Stage, readiness, collaboration, community, personalised
Can you do that with closed classroom doors? Functional learning spaces, community, partnerships,
Can you do that with separated subject areas? Curriculum design, team teaching, interdisciplinary projects, collaboration
Can you do that without seating choices? Student choice, agency, functional learning spaces, investment in furniture, different learning modes
Can you do that without technology choices? Strategic technology integration, curriculum design, Student choice, agency,
Can you do that without culturally engaged learning groups?Community, partnership, collaboration, curriculum and learning design

We need to take the re-invention of education seriously. We need to mean it when we say “we’re going to build a new school,” or, “we’re going to rebuild an old school,” so that we imagine into existence something completely new — and thus give our architects free range to develop true child-centric learning spaces.

Although I agree with refreshing our perspective on the importance of these projects, I do think the best architects understand how to create child-centric learning spaces. Decades of expertise, projects and practice mean that educational architecture is understood. It is often the lack of ambition of the client, (the school or school system) that foreshadows any real innovation.

Architects and design teams look for guidance as to how hard they can push. How far they can stretch the brief and express a truly imaginative response? They look for the educator’s guidance on the extent to which they can “imagine into existence something completely new”.

This is where the precedent and the past catch up with educators. Facing real opportunities for innovation, we limit projects to incremental versions of what we already have. Worse yet, we continue old practices in new buildings.

Aesthetically beautiful with contemporary function, but pedagogically nostalgic.

An idea that Ira Socol explains more clearly than I did, in my recent post about the morality of educational architecture, is the inter-generational tension of school design. Schools are places for children built by adults.

Our education system was built from the very beginning on adult needs and adult priorities. 

When adults do not design with empathy, we are designing an adult biased experience. Or at least for the school, we wish we had. Not the school for children we are yet to meet.

I will finish by sharing this final paragraph from Ira’s great blog post. There is so much truth here that we all should grapple with.

When we build a school, or rebuild a school, we need to insist on doing the right thing, and doing it completely. We must create a learning space that is physically safe, psychologically safe, emotionally safe for every child. And that learning space needs to be surrounded by a community, a nation, and a state with that same abundance. Only then can our kids truly be kids, and truly be kids on their way to being healthy adults. Adults who will be way better than we adults have been.

Make sure you have a read of the post in full here: “What does it mean to build a school, or to rebuild a school?

Insights from taking my son to work

During December I created the opportunity for my 11 year old son to join me at work. George has just finished primary school and will be going into Year 7 in a few weeks time. I run my own consultancy business called Dialogic Learning and for the last 6 years have been working as an education consultant.

His mini-internship helped me to discover new insights about my work in education and in business, so I thought I would share these with you. First some information about the context.

Why bother?

I have been travelling as a consultant for 6 years. Leaving my family is a cost we all have to shoulder. I wanted George to better understand the work that I do, meet the people I spend my time with and to appreciate the places I have to visit.

Telling him about these things is a poor alternative to actually experiencing them and so the idea of him joining me was born.

At the end of a school day George once asked me:

Why can’t I just go out into the world and learn?

I am pleased to say I have done something about this and given him the opportunity to get out there.

What was it?

George’s paid mini-internship included the following:

What was the expectation on George?

George and I agreed that he was not just there to make up the numbers or sit in the corner. He understood that the expectation was to be fully involved and to participate as much as he could.

I am lucky enough to work with some great clients here and in Sydney who were all really open to having George join us. We spent some time sharing these expectations as we began our sessions and meetings – this helped George hear them again and for the group I was working with align with our expectation.

For the Sydney trip I wanted George to spend some time talking to the school leadership groups – presenting some ideas on his own. We had the idea to share a short presentation, as a soon-to-be primary school leaver, about some things he would like to change about school.

5 Ideas to Change School by George Barrett

We collaborated on a short presentation that outlined 5 elements he believed are crucial to a successful school. He then used those ideas to develop some questions he put to each of the leadership teams. George ran a short discussion with the leadership teams using the questions as prompts.

[notification type=”alert-success” close=”false” ]If you want a PDF of George’s slides and question prompts we used, sign up for my weekly newsletter and I will share a copy.[/notification]

What did you learn?

School is a bubble

No doubt about it. School can be an important bubble that cossets and protects our young learners, but it is a long way from the world of work and business. Which is OK. That said I think home can also be a bubble.

The whole experience has made me think about how our students might go from home to school, and from school to home. From bubble to bubble. Again that is OK, but for some, at the right time, they need a guided experience of the cities and communities we live in.

Not to participate in a diluted version of what they should expect in 10 years. Not to “get ready” for the world of work. Not as some pseudo-preparation for life. Not to do a project.

But to participate fully as an equal, to experience all the complexity and expectation that might come along with that and to learn by getting out “into the world”.

 

It brought us closer together

We achieved one of my main goals, which was for George to better appreciate the work I do and the people/places I spend my time with/in. We were a team for those few days and we bonded in a completely different way than being at home.

He was able to witness me with business partners and share experiences together. We chatted about the work after each experience, about the people and the way they approached everything. I am grateful for the time we spent together.

Now when I say I am going to Sydney to see Jamie or work with BVN, he knows who and where I mean.

The hidden curriculum is real

This idea has always been on my radar. The hidden curriculum refers to what children learn from school that is not explicitly taught. For example, this might be through the investment in high-quality resources and equipment for sport. Students will read between the lines that “sport is highly valued here.”

This also works in much more negative ways, I just chose a positive example.

Two insights here. One is that George has been highly perceptive of the little details throughout his primary school experience. He shared these with the leadership teams during his presentation and also the shortcomings of those experiences.

I would expect that the student perception of their school and their learning experiences is hugely varied. Importantly though, their perception is their truth.

their perception is their truth

The other insight is about the shared expectation from the people George encountered during his time with me. He experienced adults working in different industries who were open, receptive, respectful, challenging and trusting of him. I know that has had a big impact.

It reminds me to pay attention to my own disposition, the language I use when first starting a session and to remain vigilant to how others are experiencing things.

Student participation in school improvement adds value

The picture of George standing in front of a group of school leaders in Sydney (top image) is definitely a highlight from last year. It has made me think about the way students are involved in the ongoing work of leadership teams.

I appreciate that George’s participation was different than normal, but what is stopping us have students taking up a residency in the leadership group. Much of what is discussed is about the welfare and experience of students – perhaps there are ways they could be more present.

Little life lessons are everywhere

A big insight I had, as George’s guide, was how much the little things I take for granted were important lessons for him to experience in these new contexts.

  • Shaking hands when you first meet
  • Looking people in the eye when you talk to them
  • Elevator etiquette. “No, you first…”
  • Punctuality
  • Making sure you are ready for the next meeting
  • Taking the time to understand who you are meeting

There were so many different little lessons along the way we experienced together. From social and group dynamics, the way successful dialogue typically unfolds, to planning travel and accommodation.

An important discussion with George was about the cost of our trip to Sydney and how my business earns money. We discussed revenue and cost, his ensuing calculations were much more authentic as it applied to our immediate context and something he was curious about.

The whole experience was a massive success for us both and also, based on the feedback (and emails for George), for those we spent time with.

I am keen to explore ways that George can participate in some future work days with me as he gets older. I am sure that it will continue to be a valuable experience for him. He is already talking about taking over the business!

[notification type=”alert-success” close=”false” ]Just a reminder that if you want a PDF of George’s challenge to the leadership teams, you just need to signup to my newsletter and I will send you a copy.[/notification]

Prising Open the Housing of the Pedagogical Clock

Go and find a copy of your class or weekly timetable and put it side by side with your school’s pedagogical statement. Your school’s pedagogical statement might be part of a teaching and learning model. Or perhaps it is communicated in a different form. Either way place it alongside the details of your timetable. Now consider these questions:

  • How does your timetable influence the learning experience?
  • How has the design of learning changed to suit the demands of the timetable?
  • How is your school timetable cast from your pedagogical values?
  • Which came first your timetable or your definition of learning at the school?
  • Is your class timetable the real school wide pedagogical statement?

The last one is a provocation I share with lots of leadership teams I work with. It helps us consider the influence of time, and our organisation of it, on the learning experience.

In seeking the ideal conditions for learning, our stewardship of time resources is critical in terms of the daily learner experience. However many of these conditions have not changed in line with our thinking.

These hegemonic constructs[footnote] Thanks to Terry Byers for the “hegemonic” reference below [/footnote] have simply lingered as part of the school experience.

The basic grammar of schooling, like the shape of classrooms, has remained remarkably stable over the decades. Little has changed in the ways that schools divide time and space, classify students and allocate them to classrooms, splinter knowledge into ‘subjects’ and award grades and ‘credits’ as evidence of learning. [footnote]Hofstetter, Rita, and Bernard Schneuwly. “Changes in Mass Schooling:‘school Form’and ‘grammar of Schooling’as Reagents.” European Educational Research Journal 12.2 (2013): 166-175.[/footnote]

Whilst I would contend that more recently there has been a bigger shift in terms of assessment, evidence of learning and learning spaces, there is not enough consistency of change. Most notably the sacrosanctity of the school timetable.

In a recent article from MindShift, Diana Laufenberg, the executive director of Inquiry Schools, explained that, “Our schedule is a function of what we’re trying to create”.  Diana goes on to suggest,

Changing the master schedule, while difficult, is a major signal to everyone connected to the school that pedagogy is shifting. “If we don’t match our minutes to our mission, [teachers are] not going to shift.”

https://ww2.kqed.org/mindshift/2016/10/24/why-a-schools-master-schedule-is-a-powerful-enabler-of-change/

There is a palpable logic to the need to grapple with the time resources ideal for pedagogy change. All too often we want the pedagogy change, we want the experience of learning to shift, but a key resource structure is left untouched.

Alongside highlighting the work of Diana Laufenberg, the article also shared the story of Jerry Smith, the Principal at Luella High School in Atlanta. They are an example of a school grappling with new models of thinking, learning and time.

It soon became clear that one of the biggest obstacles to instructional changes of the sort Smith and his team were trying to engineer was the school schedule itself.

Existing scheduling software isn’t designed to handle the priorities Smith wanted and would “break the pedagogical model” if relied upon to do the scheduling.

I would be the first to recognise the intricacies and complexities of organising hundreds, if not thousands, of learners across a school’s campus. But these software packages have an in built pedagogical bias. They might seem inert, but the lines of code will bring a certain bias to how people might learn and behave.

We shouldn’t offshore our school’s pedagogical identity to a software company.

Smith and Laufenberg point out the difficulty of changing the schedule to suit the needs of the learning experience a school is trying to uphold. When technology intervenes we have the opportunity for greater efficiency from the process of timetabling learning. This releases us to put our energy and time elsewhere. However we have to strike a balance.

When we prise open the housing of the pedagogical clock a little more we see that the use of timetables is a balance between Validity and Reliability. Roger Martin explains that

Reliability seeks to produce consistent, predictable outcomes by utilizing a system that is restricted to the use of objective data. Validity, on the other hand, seeks to produce outcomes that meet the desired objective, even if the system employed can’t produce a consistent, predictable outcome.[footnote]“Validity – Roger Martin.” https://rogerlmartin.com/docs/default-source/Articles/business-design/rotman_winter_05_validity_vs_reliability. Accessed 10 Dec. 2016.[/footnote]

Importantly Martin explains that in order to develop a reliable system, in our case a schedule, we have to drop variables that might lead to different experiences. Perhaps in this instance the variables are the individual preferences of every learner in the community. When and where they want to learn, and for how long.

There are some universal truths about learning that would influence contemporary timetable design. However developing a valid timetable for one learner may be different to another. Multiply that by hundreds and the ostensibly increased effort surpasses the perceived validity.

When we say personalised learning the ideal would be a valid timetable for all learners. In most cases though we attempt to find a balance between reliably moving humans around and offering a valid experience for everyone.

Validity and reliability anchor down opposite ends of a spectrum that defines how systems are conceived and solutions are framed.

At secondary or high school level there is little conclusive research evidence about the extension of lesson length or block scheduling[footnote]DICKSON, Kelly, et al. What is the effect of block scheduling on academic achievement? A systematic review. No. 1802R. Technical report, 2010.[/footnote]. But of course it is not simply about changing the block of time, that alone changes little.

The pedagogical change, the new teaching opportunities that open up are the key drivers here. For example, longer sessions with students so that a greater volume of ongoing feedback can be provided to more students – not just those you can manage in the time.

The Education Endowment Foundation (here is the Australian equivalent) offers a useful summary of the evidence regarding secondary block scheduling. Their questions to consider are worth noting too when exploring timetable development.

  1. Timetabling changes alone are not sufficient to improve learning.
  2. Teachers need to alter the way that they teach, and should plan and organise different kinds of learning activities to obtain benefits.
  3. Have timetabling changes been matched to curriculum goals and teaching and learning objectives (such as longer lessons for science experiments)?
  4. Have you considered how longer lessons may provide opportunities for other promising approaches, such as improving the amount of feedback that students get from the teacher or from each other?

What we might ascertain from these prompts is that time is a key enabler for different kinds of learning. Used carefully the schedule can become the function of the learning experience as Diana Laufenberg previously mentioned.

Let’s change the clocks for a moment and look at this from a slightly different perspective. As soon as I read the MindShift piece I thought about the importance of challenging assumptions about how school time is organised. My reflections also focused on how this chimes with the ideal conditions for creative and critical thinking.

In “Flow and the psychology of discovery and invention”[footnote]Csikszentmihalyi, Mihaly. “Flow and the psychology of discovery and invention.” New York: Harper Collins (1996).[/footnote], Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi suggests,

The only way to stay creative is to organize time, space, and activity to our advantage. It means developing schedules to protect our time and avoid distraction, arranging our immediate surroundings to increase concentration, cutting out meaningless chores that soak up psychic energy, and devoting the energy thus saved to what we really care about.

More than 8 years ago I began a long period of Literacy learning with my Year 5 class. The learning centred on using the PC based adventure game Myst 3 as a narrative and inspiration for our own descriptive writing. Once pairs of students were freely exploring the game and stumbling on ever more inventive puzzles, time certainly stood still or moved at an unusual pace.

The problem solving and narrative element of the game, alongside our own creative writing tasks provided a clear purpose for the students. I was able to ensure we had longer sessions, free from distractions and interruptions to work in and with the game.

I also allowed the work to be extended over a few weeks. This allowed the overall arc of learning to progress at an ideal pace for critical and creative thinking.

I vividly recall the buzz as students shared what they had learned or discovered in the game with each other. Fully immersed.

Emerging from the Myst: Being inspired and making a start

In one of my favourite books Conceptual Blockbusting[footnote] Adams, James L., Conceptual Blockbusting, W.W.Norton & Company.13, (1976)[/footnote], James Adams outlines a range of emotional blocks to the creative process. Behaviours and habits that can stultify our efforts, and it would seem many are directly related to the organisation of time.

  1. A fear to make mistakes, to fail, to risk.
  2. Preference for judging ideas rather than generating them.
  3. No tolerance for ambiguity or chaos.
  4. A lack of challenge – not engaging enough.
  5. Excessive zeal – too much speed, pace and haste.
  6. An inability to relax and to incubate ideas.

Just take a moment to read those through again, consider at each turn the influence of time on why these often occur.

The overall endeavour we face is how much change we can handle. Regarding timetables in schools, how do we challenge the edges of what is deemed acceptable? How do we ensure stability whilst designing a high value personal learning experience?

Crucially as school leaders we need to question the dominance of certain ideas or norms and how they have exerted influence, over decades, on the accepted design of learning. The organisation of time might just be one of the most important barriers to pedagogical change.

“Student voice” — yeah but what do you mean?

I posted something recently about learner agency. I pointed out this was synonymous with another more commonly used edu-lingo phrase: student voice.

Perhaps student voice always intended to be learner agency. That is really what we mean, right? The phrase student voice is both narrow in who it references and kind of illogical in terms of what it means.

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Student voice has had a rocky ride since the mid 1900s

First of all, in most places students are not the only learners. We need to get better at following the same rules about great learning for big and small people.

Secondly when someone voices something it needs to be heard. Which depends on someone else, which would mean students depend on others. This is close to the definition of proxy agency, perhaps the weakest of the three agency musketeers we can define.

Maybe I am splitting hairs a little on this but it is an interesting observation, and I know how important a common language is in any organisation.