On April 13, 2012, at 10:30 AM the first floor of the beautiful Enoch Pratt Library is buzzing with people choosing where to go first at the CityLit Project Festival—the rows of tables with books, author sessions or the welcoming rooms of books to be borrowed.  Also in the lobby is Congressman John Sarbanes who quickly introduces himself—great to see local politicians supporting events such as these in Baltimore.

The event looked just as busy at 4 PM as it did at 10 AM—despite the beautiful day outside, this was the place to be.  Many library visitors chose to remain for much of the day once they saw the wonderful authors and speakers scheduled.

Letters About Literature Awards Ceremony with Kwame Alexander

On the 3^rd floor there’s standing room only in the Wheeler Auditorium as Kwame Alexander reads from his new children’s book, Acoustic Rooster and His Barnyard Band, which was nominated for a 2012 NAACP Image Award. The Board president graciously (though unexpectedly) turned pages while the audience enthusiastically completed the lines as Alexander read.

Students (grades 4-12) from all over the state were honored for their placement in a national essay program sponsored locally by the Maryland Humanities Council/Maryland Center for the Book. Level Three, first-place winner, Adam Antoszewski of Catonville High, read his eloquent letter to Herman Hesse as he made nuanced connections between his grandmother’s dementia and Siddhartha. Similarly, Claire Jenkins of St. John the Baptist Catholic School, the Level Two first-place winner, read her letter to the author of The Little Engine That Could, describing how this book inspired her struggles with reading through her dyslexia. The youngest young author, Jisoo Choi of Ellicott City, shared how Someone Named Eve resonated with her own experience holding onto the language of her parents. Years from now some of these and the many more next-generation authors may very well be presenting their own sessions at this festival!

Benjamin Busch and Tom Hall

Benjamin Busch read passages from his new memoir, Dust to Dust, sharing his first connections to Baltimore through his acting career on Homicide and The Wire. Busch quickly acknowledged that the Baltimore portrayed in these two shows is completely different than the Baltimore community featured at the CityLit Festival.

The two Baltimores continually wrestle with one another, which echoes my own experience living in this charmed city. As police sirens outside threatened to overtake the room at one point, Busch explained with aplomb that this was an “interactive reading with the city of Baltimore,” lyrical prose set against the background of urgency and alarm.

Busch’s anecdote of one of his first experiences with Baltimore painted a hilarious picture of him walking from the Homicide set (where he played a dead man) to a local church wearing only a bathrobe, slippers and a prominent bloody hatchet wound on his forehead in the dead of winter.  He was so focused on wanting to be a professional and not wanting to move until he was directed that he ended up being left on the set alone without any transportation to the catered site for the crew.  After walking the winter streets, smiling at curious passersby, he finally reached the location and inadvertently walked into the wrong room—a classroom of African American children all stopped and stared at this strange, dead white man with a hatchet sticking out of his forehead.  Quite the image! I’m looking forward to reading the extended account of this incident in his memoir.

After reading the passages from his memoir, Tom Hall, the Music Director of the Baltimore Choral Arts Society, asked Busch to focus on the role of memory. At one point, Busch connected his early training as a stonemason to his desire for permanence, beginning when he was eight on a trip to England where he was surrounded by stone history up to seeing so much stone during his tour in Iraq. Extending this connection, Busch shared that when he first began writing, his father, the late novelist Frederick Busch, told him that he needed to “type something that will last forever.”

Busch consciously chooses to live within the ambiguity of life as survival and our inevitable demise. While recognizing that we’re all doomed—essentially we all will die, Busch also holds to the belief that “the immortality of our efforts is still possible.” Each moment in life counts and we can make a lasting impact, however small.

Busch’s life journey has taken him to some disparate places. His time at Vassar as a studio art major, making prints, drawing in charcoal and making sculpture in steel and stone may have helped him on his goal to create something permanent, but seem less connected to his time in the Marine Corps as an infantry officer through two tours in Iraq.  Busch comments about his time at war: that “You hope for a noble mission but you get what you get,” implying that the war in Iraq may not have been as noble as he would have wanted.  His remark that “there is no reversal of damage in war” hit home with many.  Curious to see what this actor, writer, soldier, photographer, stonemason and film director does next.

Edward Hirsch and Thomas Lux: Two American Masters Share Their Love of Poetry

When Michael Salcman, Chair of the City Lit Project, introduced Edward Hirsch and Thomas Lux, he shared personal anecdotes about the influence these two great American poets had on his own work.  His advice to  “love poetry, love it hard” set the tone for the presentation.

Edward Hirsch, who mostly recently published The Living Fire: New and Selected Poems (2011) and is perhaps best known for How To Read a Poem, shared his appreciation for the work the CityLit Project has done in keeping American Literature alive and well before he appropriately began with “Branch Library” and then moved to “Poet at 7,” “A Partial History of My Stupidity,” and “Early Sunday Morning.”  Before reading “Green Couch,” Hirsch acknowledged that Thomas Lux had complained multiple times about this very couch over the years; Hirsch and Lux have been friends since 1975.  After continuing with “The Sweetness,” and “A New Theology,” Hirsch kindly obliged a gentleman in the audience by reading  “Edward Hopper and the House by the Railroad.”   To the audience’s delight, Hirsch also read several new poems, “After the Stroke,” “God’s Insomnia,”  (when church bells rang uncannily at the perfect moment!)  “To Poetry,” and “Last Saturday.” Hirsch eloquently ended with “Ocean of Grass,” another audience request. Hirsch claimed that he’s “only reading in Baltimore from here on because no one ever requests poems elsewhere!”

Thomas Lux, who wrote at least 18 works of poetry including God Particles, followed Hirsch after a glowing introduction by Salcman. Lux began with a tribute to Baltimore’s Poe, “Edgar Allen Poe Meets Sarah Hale,” and then read the hilarious persona poem “Autobiographical.”  He continued with “The Republic of Anesthesia”  “The Happy Majority,” Like Tiny Baby Jesus in Velour Pants Sliding Down Your Throat,” and “The Joy Bringer.” Referencing one of the images in this last poem, Lux added the personal footnote that “newly mown hay is one of his favorite smells.”

Lux also read from galley pages of his new book coming out this fall: “Hat Rack,” a funny litany of family and friend nicknames, “Soup Teachers,” an elegy to Lux’s mother, and “Lady’s Slipper,” a poem about a protected flower of his childhood.  Lux then concluded with other two published poems: “Dead Horse” and “Outline for My Memoir.”

When asked, Lux acknowledged Frost as an influence, explaining that Frost was more than a bucolic poet, rather he was  “the great poet of terror,” as he was called on his 80^th birthday.   Instead of the “meaning of a poem,” Lux likes Frost’s reference to the “ulteriority of a poem.”  As a former English teacher, Lux’s desire not to box each poem into a simple meaning resonates because my students always seemed to want to do just that.

In response to an audience question about formal and free verse, Hirsch shared his belief that part of our patrimony of America is our capacity for inclusiveness and that there’s more than enough room for formal and free verse. Lux also stressed that he and poets like him do pay attention to craft, including sound, rhyme and rhythm, even if the rhymes don’t fall at the end of an iambic line.

Prose poetry also arose during the discussion. Lux defined a prose poem as having to follow all of the rules of a poem except the rule of line breaks, and that it should be closer to poetry than prose.  Hirsch took the discussion further by proposing that a prose poem always raises the question of what makes a poem.  He quickly walked the audience through a comparison of the American and French history of the prose poem in its relation to free verse poems, arguing that the prose poem followed different trajectories across continents.

Walter Isaacson, Best-Selling Author of Biography Steve Jobs

Walter Isaacson, a Harvard graduate and Rhodes Scholar, former managing editor of Time Magazine and Chairman and CEO of CNN, now President and CEO of the Aspen Institute, is perhaps most famously known for writing the biography of Steve Jobs.

Working closely with Jobs caused Isaacson to recognize that biographers rarely have the opportunity to truly know their subjects, to spend time with their subjects the way he did. The project made him rethink his work as a biographer and the importance of capturing “the first draft of history.”

When Steve Jobs first asked Isaacson to write his biography, he didn’t realize that Jobs was ill. He felt Jobs was a bit audacious, to say the least, to place himself in the same category as Benjamin Franklin and Albert Einstein (subjects of Isaacson’s other books), especially given the early stage of his career.  Through continued conversations with Jobs, Isaacson came to understand his health situation and secured a promise from Jobs that he would not micromanage the project. In fact, Jobs agreed not to read the book until it was published. Isaacson did share that despite the promise to allow an unbiased account of his life, Jobs did suggest several thematic strands of interpreting his life. Unfortunately, Jobs didn’t have a chance to read the book before he died. Isaacson did read the last 6 pages to him aloud–the parts that were Jobs’ own words.  Jobs just nodded.

Isaacson stated clearly that his intent was not to defend Jobs who was clearly a genius but most definitely not a saint.  His singular focus often trampled other visions and prevented him from caring about issues outside his own personal vision. While sometimes Jobs was a major jerk, he also engendered fierce loyalty.

Still, Jobs transformed multiple industries—the home computer, the music business, the film industry. He reinvented the creation myth at large of the Silicon Valley garage startup; he gets kicked out of his own company and then is brought back, both times bringing the company to a force in the world. Isaacson saw Steve Jobs’ impatience and petulance were attached to his passion for a product.  His mantra of wanting to make great products not great profits often delayed projects about a month—just to make sure each was perfect, beautiful and ready.

Perhaps most fascinating was the connection Isaacson made between the intersection of counterculture and electronic culture.  Jobs believed that creativity would occur at the intersection of humanities-types and science-types.  Gates was recognized as a better coder and programmer, but he didn’t have that counterculture feel that Steve brought.  The time that others see as Jobs’ lost years possibly fed the success of Jobs and his company.  His time spent in ashrams in India and experimenting at Pixar taught him lessons that ultimately shaped Apple when Jobs returned. In the end, Jobs wanted his company to remain at the intersection of technology and the humanities.

Isaacson ended with sharing what he saw as the hardest thing we do in life and hardest to learn: knowing when to stay true to your passions and when to find common ground and compromise. Steve Jobs, as we all do, wrestled with this tension to the end of his short, impressive life.

Closing

The event looks just as busy at 4 PM as it did at 10 AM—despite the beautiful day outside, this was the place to be.  Many library visitors chose to remain for much of the day once they saw

I’ve been writing for some time about the need to have more crossover conversations among educators, startups, policy makers and investors.  Thursday night I saw this happen at Digital Harbor Foundation’s Edtech Link Fundraiser in Baltimore.  Audrey Watters wrote a great piece sharing the work of the Digital Harbor Foundation. When everyone thinks and works together, truly innovative ideas emerge and can be put into action.

The two young and energetic co-executive directors, Andrew Coy (Baltimore City high school teacher) and Shelly Blake-Plock (of TeachPaperless), brought together students, teachers, principals, founders of edtech startups, Maryland businesses, and venture capitalists—everyone invested in improving education. Perhaps the only group missing was higher education. Each table included representatives of these various stakeholders, which made for truly rich dinnertime conversation. At my table we range from discussing particularities of serving students with special needs on both ends of the spectrum, hearing about several edtech companies developing tools in conjunction with teachers, why two impact investors chose to focus on education and listening to student experiences with reverse mentoring.

The evening program began, where it should, with Digital Harbor High School students sharing how their experiences with iDev have opened numerous opportunities for them. Several of the students participate in reverse mentoring—these high school students regularly visit Liberty Elementary, a local Baltimore City elementary school led by the forward-thinking principal Joseph Manko. The high school students work with Liberty teachers, helping them learn to use technology strategically, particularly with their 1:1 iPad program.  It’s a win-win for everyone—the teachers learn new strategies and the high school students learn marketable skills. One young man at my table shared that he had built a simple website for someone the previous weekend for $350, a nice chunk of money for a high school student. Two other students approached several of us after the dinner to offer us their tech services if we needed them. Loved seeing such entrepreneurial skills in young people!

Further along the pipeline, the foundation also provides scholarships for college students and a fellowship for recent college graduates in Maryland tech industries. Teachers may also apply for tech fellowships that allow them to spend the summer learning to use technology in innovate ways that will impact the classroom. (Here’s more information on the application process: http://www.digitalharborfoundation.org/fellowship.html) Imagine the impact if even just 20 teachers participated in this program every year and took back what they learned to their individual schools.

One of the other brilliant ideas coming out of this group is a project to turn recreation centers that are closing because of budget cuts into tech centers for young people.  The plan is to include 3-D printers, tech classes and tech coaches available. The only real question is why didn’t some

I’m not easily impressed but I was impressed with Atul Gawande’s keynote at ASCD, perhaps because he touched on topics percolating in my brain the past few months.  My love affair with Gawande began with his article in the New Yorker  where he advocates for all professionals having the opportunity to be coached. The philosophy is so simple—we get better at what we do if we get specific feedback on our performance—yet it happens so little in most professions, except in sports and dance. The goal of this feedback is not to be rated or graded; the goal is simply to get better.

When I danced years ago, my instructor would have us watch ourselves repeatedly in the mirror. She’d show me how to adjust my body for better balance, more grace, a longer line. No one has done this for me as a teacher. Certainly no one has done this for me as administrator.

I know when I watched myself teach on video, I found several unexpected behaviors that I didn’t know I did—for ex, I do this sort of two-step move when in front of the classroom. It’s because I move towards the students who are talking and then back up because I realize the students on the edge of the “U” are out of my periphery.  It ends up looking like a strange dance, or at least it did when my students imitated me during a school skit. I also use the word “actually” too much.  Now these aren’t horrible habits in that they’re not overtly harmful to students, but they are a potential distraction to students, so I try to curtail them.

When I’ve had teachers observe themselves, they often share with me that they had no idea how short their wait time was, or that they called on boys more often, or that they asked so many closed questions. Half the trick to improvement is identification and recognition. You can’t work on something if you don’t see it. We need to open ourselves to asking and receiving feedback. Most importantly we need to rethink how we view teacher evaluation and professional development.

Gawande made the point that most teachers, like doctors, fall into a bell curve—most are average. We shouldn’t focus all of our efforts on trying to get rid of the “bad teachers.”  Instead, we should teach them. So simple, but our teacher effectiveness systems aren’t designed this way. We should be thinking about teacher growth for all teachers, not teacher evaluation. How can we learn from the great teachers, and how can we share this wisdom?

In all of the districts I’ve worked, many teachers coast after their first five years. They feel as if they’ve mastered their craft and they don’t feel pushed to keep improving. I wonder if many potentially great teachers leave the profession because they don’t experience the challenge of continual improvement. Other professions offer these challenges. Just like students need the right balance of a challenge without crossing over into frustration, so do our teachers. So do our administrators.

Here’s the big question: how can redesign our profession so that it’s the norm for all teachers and administrators to be coached? Imagine the impact this could have on students.

I was only able to participate in a short segment of Grant Wiggins’ session yesterday—wish I had been able to come in sooner. When I worked with Grant back in 1999 as part of a Klingenstein Summer Institute, his Understanding by Design framework came at exactly the right time for my practice—over a dozen years later, Grant is still ahead of the curve. Here are some of the big questions he raises:

• What would schooling look like if we designed it “backward” from the school Mission & using sound principles?
• Where do mission and long-term learning goals get lost in short-term actions? What, then, should we do to change this?

Wiggins advocates for what I’ve been arguing for as well in my district: everything in our schools should be aligned—the mission, curriculum, response to personnel issues, response to students, administrative walkthroughs, and certainly professional development.

Having recently read Unmistakable Impact, Wiggins reminded me of aspects of Jim Knight’s work. Knight argues that a school’s improvement plan should be clearly written on one page—too many initiatives get lost. The strategies should be easily understood by the whole school community—administrators, teachers, parents, and students. If not, the school isn’t focused enough to experience real impact. Wiggins provides one sensible method of focusing school initiatives by tying everything together through a backwards design approach using the school’s mission.

Everyone seems to be recognizing the necessity of alignment and clarity, yet schools still seem to struggling to find their focus. I’m convinced it takes strong instructional leaders who have vision and a clearly articulated plan (developed with the support of all stakeholders) to make this happen. The most difficult task is learning to filter out all of the distractions to maintain the school’s focus, making sure the short term doesn’t overwhelm the long term.

One of my favorite Wiggins’s quotes: “The point of school is not to get good at school.” Schools must have a plan to move students towards autonomy in solving real world problems.

While this ASCD session wasn’t exactly what I was expecting–didn’t read description carefully, I did leave with a number of great website links, and some clever paradigm-shifting analogies and anecdotes. Heidi Jacobs always has so much to share–I signed up more for her than the topic. I loved when Jacobs compared teaching to medicine.  Principals often brag that they’re using 21^st century technology at their schools and then take you to see the 3 or 4 teachers who are implementing tech into their classrooms. Imagine if a hospital administrator bragged about her hospital using 21^st century technology and then took you to see the 3 or 4 doctors who were using it.  If we wouldn’t allow medical staff to choose not to use current technology, why are we okay with teachers continuing to use strategies and technology that is antiquated and does not prepare our students?

Another great analogy: We treat curriculum like real estate—I own Dickens.  If we don’t look at the big picture collectively, then curriculum conversations often default to territory negotiations.

On a deeper level, Jacobs is completely on target when she argues that we need to restructure how we teach sciences. As she says, we’re “mammal happy”—think about how often students write reports on animals.  She argues that much of life science could be cut out to allow more room for contextualizing science and focusing on problem-based learning, not memorization.

Perhaps my favorite Jacobs comment addresses when teachers claim they don’t have time to infuse 21^st century skills and tools because they have to “cover” so much material. Jacobs reminds us that “to cover” means “to obscure from view,” which is essentially what happens when we don’t teach authentically.

When we, as the adults, focus too much on what we want to teach, what we’re comfortable teaching, what we know and want to share, we miss the big picture: the students and what they need.  I’ll end where Jacobs began, who owns the learning in our schools? Who should?

While I was blogging this past weekend at Startup Weekend EDU Santa Clara, one idea crystallized even more for me the lean mode of thinking should be applied more frequently to school administration.  (If you want a brush up on lean thinking, here’s an earlier blog.)

I don’t need to convince Startup Weekend participants that they should follow a lean startup model—that’s what much of this past weekend was about.  Most teams struggled with defining their problem statements and refining their solution because doing this kind of work is hard and time consuming. It’s much easier to stay madly in love with your original startup idea.

Our LessonCast Learning team has spent hours working to define a single problem that we’re trying to solve, only to return to it again and again as we infuse new learning into our understanding of the problem. Still, it’s worth it. Until a problem is properly defined, it’s almost impossible to know if what you’re implementing is solving something.

Lean thinking clearly applies to launching a startup but I’m also going to be more deliberate about applying this philosophy during my work with my school district.

Many times the reason that decisions aren’t made is because the problems haven’t been clearly defined. Many great ideas bubble up; those ideas that are implemented usually happen because someone was able to persuade the right people to move it forward.

What would be more valuable—and rarely occurs—is for school administrators (including central office staff) to focus on defining the problems more clearly first. This past year our school system had each school and office complete a comprehensive needs assessment based on quantitative and qualitative data, which is a good start, but doesn’t completely capture what we need to be capturing.

Some common problems are never defined narrowly enough. For example, many school districts have students who are struggling readers.  There are many intervention strategies out there—outside programs, professional development, changing the organizational structure, adding instructional coaches, creating literacy campaigns.

However, a school can’t know which solution meets its needs best until the problem is more narrowly defined. For example, what’s the problem when some students struggle to read?

• It is because the material doesn’t engage them?
• Because their home situations are distracting?
• Because they have gaps in learning?
• Because they have learning differences?
• Because they can’t focus because they’re hungry? Tired?
• Aren’t in school enough because of suspensions?
• Can’t sit still all day?
• There are high rates of lead in their houses?
• Because it’s not cool to enjoy reading?

We rarely take the time to dig this deep. Until we do, how are we supposed to recognize which solution is the best one to solve our problem?  If students aren’t focused because they’re hungry, that’s a very different solution than a student has a learning difference. In the first example, the solution would involve getting access to nutritious food for students. In the second, students would be tested to determine needs and a range of supports could be implemented. If the material isn’t engaging, then curriculum and instruction need to be addressed.

Lean thinking has the potential to focus on our limited resources on solving the real problems as well allowing us to see what works and what doesn’t more quickly and more efficiently.

Shaun Johnson’s article, “Climate Scientists, Educators, and Why We Avoid Consulting the Experts,” addresses an important issue that frustrates me on a daily basis—whose voices have the most influence in education? Johnson makes the parallel between non-climate scientists extolling their inaccurate expert opinions on climate change and “economists, statisticians, software engineers, CEO’s, politicians, financiers, hip-hop artists, and talk show hosts” explaining the best ways to improve education.  Why do we place so much weight on these opinions? If I need expert advice on how to treat my allergies, I wouldn’t ask a celebrity, my local congressperson or a financier. I’d ask my allergist. Yet, we don’t think twice of including these voices in debates about education.

Johnson also wonders:

Is it just coincidence that global warming and education are both socially and politically charged fields? There’s a lot at stake for wealthy interests to ensure that global warming remains controversial and contested. Otherwise, we’ll finally adjust our lifestyles and that could hurt a bottom line. A similar situation might be true for education. Certain well-heeled entities are very interested in the acquisition of valuable public per-pupil dollars. This might be why the real experts get shut out: they actually know what might be best for students and not someone’s bottom line.

This is the real question—what is the motivation for debates about education? Politics? Recognizing the possibilities of entering a $900 billion market? A (perhaps unconscious) desire to maintain the social status quo? Americans like to believe in the narrative of meritocracy—public education offers the opportunity for all Americans to pull themselves into a higher socioeconomic level if they simply work hard enough.  We hold tightly to this narrative, despite significant evidence to the contrary. Those in political power don’t want to admit that they might not have risen to that position if they had come from different circumstances—they all want to believe in the merits of their own hard work and labor.  If we really believed in equality in education, we’d make the hard decisions that would genuinely change the educational experiences of the children attending our under-performing schools.

When I’m evaluating people’s positions on educational reform, I’ve found that looking at their record on issues of equity serves as a good barometer for determining motivation. What other kinds of projects have been their passions?  Then I look to see their connections to actual educators—have they personally worked in education? If not, do they surround themselves with folks who have extensive experience in education?

There are certainly non-educators out there who fund projects for the right reasons—I’ve met a few. However, they’re the rare exception. Do I believe that only educators should be involved in educational reform or in creating new educational technology? No, what I believe is that we need true partnerships in designing the direction education should take that involve real education experts—those who have spent significant time in classrooms.

How can we shift our national thinking so that we recognize true expertise in education?

Okay, I’m taking another stab at my response to Khosla’s TechCrunch article because I don’t think I did him enough justice, or explained well enough my own issues with the piece. In one of my online communities, I was challenged by Doug Crets, a respected colleague, for missing the main points of Khosla’s article and not crediting Khosla with how closely he does align with the needs in education.  My title, “Teachers Won’t Replace Algorithms,” probably led readers down the wrong path, similar to how TechCrunch’s calling Khosla’s article “Do We Need Algorithms or Teachers” misleads readers as well. The issue is not an either/or question—what algorithms can tell teachers about student behavior has the potential to provide valuable tools in education, which will not replace teachers, but rather allow them to do their job more effectively and most likely differently.  My first blog responded to minor points of difference without acknowledging enough how much my beliefs about the future of education and Khosla’s align.

I agreed, and still agree, with every major point that Khosla puts forth:

1)   Seat time is highly overrated as a way to judge who deserves to be awarded a diploma. We all recognize that students learn at different paces, yet we don’t acknowledge this fact in our course and graduation requirements.  A professor friend of mine teaches one of her college classes now using a new model—when students have completed the level of quality of writing to receive an A, then they’re finished. If that takes 3 weeks, then they took a 3-week course. If it takes the whole semester, she’s right by them the whole way, providing support.

This is also true for individual high school courses.  I used the example of Algebra in my last blog because it’s a subject that is often repeated by students who struggle with its concepts.  Some students fly through the material and others need to work with the content in different ways than traditionally presents. Technology has the ability to provide avenues for students who can move on to more advanced materials, while also providing learning solutions for struggling students.

2)   The best man at my wedding works at Zynga, so I recognize both the value of the potential of gamification and the possibilities that big data can tell us about student behavior.  Most people agree with Khosla’s support for what gamification can do for learning. What many educators may not realize is that platforms such as Zynga have also provided us a way to test on a large scale what does and doesn’t work. Khosla captures this when we shares that these “new platforms…have the ability to rapidly run experiments with new styles, techniques and resources (like social learning) which will lead to a new understanding of education.”  Imagine what we could learn about where students get stuck when reading a science article, working through a math problem, or reading a short story, if we applied some of these same strategies/algorithms.

3)   Social media also has a place in the future of education. On a simple level, I already see students asking each other questions at night using social media. Companies such as Grokit and Inkling do this on a larger scale for college students.  Khosla is correct that even the students who help other students learn because the best way to learn material inside and out is to teach it. Again, this doesn’t replace the role of the teacher, just provides more tools for a teacher to use.

4)   Technology has the power to free up teachers to do what we do best—teach our students to think, read, write critically, to engage with the wider world, to be curious, to learn how they learn best, to be empathetic and compassionate and to have the tools they need to solve 21^st century problems.  New advances could allow us to reach every single student by diagnosing issues quickly and precisely and engaging them in the ways each student learns best.

5)   Perhaps most importantly, I agree with Khosla’s vision of students enjoying the learning process. Young children absolutely love to learn, they’re curious about everything, and somehow our current system knocks this out of most of them. Technology can provide tools that help us get that love of learning back for all of our students.

When I heard Khosla speak in person, I left feeling similar to how I do now. He has so much right on target, but keeps missing the nuances. For instance, in both this article and in his comments during the interview I observed, Khosla only references lecture as a style of teaching because I believe it’s probably the only one he knows how to name. I wanted to spend a little bit of time with him to give him the language to use that would help him bridge the tech/educator divide. I also want him to say even more strongly that good teachers can’t be replaced by any form of technology. Technology just provides tools for teachers and these tools need to be designed for real problems in education and with real educators as part of crafting the solutions.

As a non-educator Khosla doesn’t always have the exact vocabulary to explain the nuances of the issues facing education, but he should get credit for recognizing (and funding) the patterns in the big picture.  As an educator invested in bridging the edtech divide, I should do more to bring that language to invested individuals like Khosla. Watch for more on this topic!