I have seen the devil.  Face to face.  And it’s not a pretty sight.  He may go by many names, but in this incarnation, he was known as Death-By-Powerpoint. 

For four straight days this past week, I stared into his hollow, soul-less eyes at a regional conference of high-school technology coaches, and it nearly sucked the life out of me.  His numerous uber-demons were present as well, manifesting themselves as Watch-Me-Stand-Stationary-And-Hear-Me-Drone-On-Like-A-Broken-Air-Conditioner, and Just-Try-To-Visualize-What-I’m-Talking-About-Because-We’re-Having-Technical-Issues-Again, as well as various other imps, gremlins, and unclean spirits that plagued us conferencegoers for the better part of a week.   

It’s been said that “The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist”.  With that in mind, it should come as no shock that the presenters at our conference (on effective use of technology and advanced teaching strategies, mind you) were completely oblivious to the fact that they were feeding us shovelful after shovelful of vitriolic, non-Constructivist poison. 

Part of why this was so painful to me in particular was the fact that I was currently enrolled in INSYS 527, a Constuctivist class at PSU that opened our minds to new teaching strategies.  It encouraged teaching to be more – how do you say? – “out of the box”.  The irony is that I do not resent INSYS – but it certainly heightened my discontent at the conference.  How?  In the same way that, once you experience and know what fine wine is, you are that much appalled when you are served cheap wine. 

For four days I experienced the cheap, vinegary wine of didactic instruction.  It became so oboxious to me that I seriously considered the consequences of pulling the fire alarm and making my getaway, never to return.  It is one thing to be bored.  It is another thing to be acutely aware that your time is being wasted; that there is some greater good to be done somewhere and that you are being forcibly kept from it. 

I would have expected such a bad conference if it were run and organized by carnies, politicians, or a horde of rabid hamsters.  I expected more from the Pennsylvania Department of Education.  That our state’s governing educational institution so completely failed to hit the mark tells me that we need to facilitate change from the bottom up. 

We who have experienced true Constructivism need to share with others how engaging, fulfilling, and practical it really is.  It is hard to measure?  Sure.  Is it hard to prepare lessons for?  Absolutely.  But we’re not doing this for US.  It is those whom we’re instructing – or more accurately, “co-learning” with – that are the true beneficiaries.  Hopefully, once they experience the fine wine of Constructivism, they themselves will have a taste for nothing else, and the movement will proceed from there. 

I really shouldn’t be surprised at what I experienced this week.  Should fossilized, ladder-climbing bureaucrats with Ph.D’s printed on papyrus really be expected to give us anything other than ill-formatted, colorless Powerpoints and repetitive, meaningless, Edu-babble?  Don’t count on it. 

Resist the devil.  It’s up to you.

So much so, in fact, that several of his closest friends had started to worry about his health and well-being – both physically and mentally.  We decided to have a social gathering on a Friday night that would hopefully help Max to relax, laugh a little, and to realize that he is not alone.  The plan was hatched, and little did I know that I had become part of what would turn into a multi-person constructivist effort.  

All we knew was that it was to take place on the next coming Friday night.  Over the next four days though, 8 of us (Max’s friends, colleagues, and neighbors) bounced ideas off each other for what might be a pleasant experience for Max.  

Would he like this kind of food or that?  How many people total?  Would he want to have a gathering at all?  Hmm, better check on that.  Yes, sounds like he’d definitely be into spending time with friends this weekend.  Where should it be held?  An eating establishment?  No, too noisy.  A bar?  No, not a good idea.  Oh great! Sandy just offered her house as a venue!  Perfect.  Should we bring board games?  Video games? Some DVDs?  Which movies?  We should make him laugh… 

And so it continued.  I was fascinated to see this thing evolve; it started with a basic idea, and over a few days, people who wanted to make it succeed constructed this great event for our friend.  

Was there an objective?  Yes.  But it was undefined and broad enough that it didn’t have to take any specific shape.  We built something with our minds – something that could not have been conceived by one person alone.  Constructivism among friends can do great things.

Just ask Max.

What makes Web 2.0 different from regular internet sites as that the Internet (Web 1.0) simply provided information.  This can be managed, filtered and screened.  Web 2.0 applications like Diigo, Delicious, and Facebook are constantly changing and modified by users, and are therefore less manageable.  

These applications can do good things, particularly if employees are encouraged to utilize them and creativity an innovation is encouraged.  However, my hunch is that in the workplace, Constructivism and Web 2.0 environments are sacrificed because it is easier to distrust employees and block these sites entirely.  

Constructivism is risky.  I would submit that if we want pioneering and innovative thinking to occur in the workplace, employers and upper management types need to take a risk and trust their employees with “less manageable” internet environments.  I suspect that they’d be pleasantly surprised.

Just a thought.

Long story short, I drove 200 of the round-trip miles earlier this week, and 200 more tonight.  Exhausted doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel right now.  However, with all that time in the car, I was provided with ample opportunity to ponder how I could possibly relate this episode to constructivism. 

Wait a minute… it’s coming to me… Episode… Episodic… Episodic vs. semantic experiences!  I knew there was a tie-in!  And ironically enough, I am relating this constructivist episode to you in a semantic manner.  Now there’s a mindbender.

So I guess the moral of the story is: If you’re going to buy a car from an Annapolis dealership, make sure the AC works before driving it home – unless, of course, you are in need of a 400-mile long adventure to which you can refer to segue seamlessly into the hot topic of Episodic vs. Semantic experiences.  In that case, feel free to check the AC whenever you want. 

Ahhh… it’s satisfying to know that you’ve imparted some good old common-sense wisdom to the world.  Now there’s one to sleep on.  Goodnight.

PS: The other missing 200 miles I drove this week was just driving to work.  You thought I added wrong, didn’t you?

But this isn’t your average grad class. 

Rather than dreading it, I am anticipating it.  Would I still love to sleep in till 9:00? (Yes, that’s what teachers call sleeping in.)  Of course.  But after last week’s class I felt refreshed and energized, and I look forward to more of the same.  I was engaged – not talked at.  Interaction was elicited from me -  information was not siphoned from my brain.  I felt comfortable – not compelled. 

I have heard of many different theories of learning – perhaps there really is something to this Constructivism after all. 

But be that as it may, right now I am still burned out and can’t type anything else coherent.  I ought to get some sleep so that my experience in grad class tomorrow is as enjoyable as I anticipate. 

Good night, world.