Writing in Circles for Dot Day

Dot Day Invite

Yesterday was International Dot Day, and this is the first year I had my students join the millions (6.6 million from 139 countries, in fact) people making circles and dots as a way to nurture a sense of creativity and imagination. The Dot Day idea stems from a picture book by Peter Reynolds, called The Dot. We connected with Peter and his brother, Paul, last school year, and we hope to do so again this year.

I decided to have my students write short one-paragraph stories on a circular theme — the story could have circular objects or have some other element of a circle — and then we used Visual Poetry to “draw with the words as ink.” That concept really intrigued them and blew them away. Finally, I had them upload their visual stories to a collaborative Padlet site, which has become this very cool digital wall of circle stories.

dot day circle screenshot

Watching them write, and then watching them paint, and then watching them navigate the download/upload instructions has given me a lot of insight into them as learners already. They were fully engaged in this, partially because they knew their work (which we were tweeting out during the day from our classroom Twitter account) was part of a global conversation about creativity. Their stories were in the mix.

That’s one element of Connected Learning that we teachers explore during the summer via CLMOOC — that idea of reaching out beyond the walls of your school, into the World at large — and I hope it is just a taste of things to come this year for us. Certainly, we will be doing something again around National Day on Writing and other ventures.

DS106 Dot Day

Meanwhile, Dot Day also took place over at the DS106 Daily Create site, with Dots as the prompt. There were 31 responses. I loved seeing my DS106 friends doing all sorts of strange things with dots, and more than that, I loved extending the connected element from the Global Community to my classroom to DS106 and beyond. All sorts of strands come together at times.

Peace (let’s create it and nurture it),

Make Instruments, Make Music, Make Change

We were in our independent movie theater recently when the trailer for the upcoming documentary — Landfill Harmonic — came on the screen and blew us away. There’s so much to admire in this story — of the way one person saw possibility where others saw nothing, the way they turned to the resources at hand to create something, and the way an idea can potentially alter an entire community for the better.

Landfill Harmonic from Landfill Harmonic on Vimeo.

I just ordered it (via Vimeo), so I can share it with my students this year and support the cause.

Peace (in the muse),

#IMMOOC: Quotes and Notes at the Start

I’ve started reading George Couros’s The Innovator’s Mindset for the IMMOOC, and I am reading it on the Kindle app. I prefer to read books offline, on paper, so I am wondering about the experience of highlighting and making notes in the Amazon cloud. If you know me, it is not worry about the digital. I’m all about that. But I still think the reading experience losing something when the book is on a screen.

I still prefer to thumb through sticky noted pages and highlighted sections. But I have been highlighting quotes and then adding notes to The Innovator’s Mindset. The same idea, but not the same. For me, anyway. I miss my paper sticky notes. But I do enjoy reading the collections of what others have highlighted and made notes about via their Kindle reading experience.

Here are some passages and lines and quotes that have started to jump out at me from George’s book, and I’ve included my notes as reflection points. Interestingly, I highlighted in the Kindle app (on my iPad) and then had to go into the Amazon/Kindle site of the book to make my notes. I must be missing something inside the app.

Quote: Buzzwords crowd the educational reform movement like buzzards circling a decaying carcass. Many have become enamored with—and lost to—a culture of clichés and a penchant for platitudes. Perhaps no word is a better example of this than innovation. Its frequent use and misuse has led to the loss of much of its power. However, a true spirit of innovation is exactly what our educational system needs to crush complacency, stomp the status quo, and forge a path into a future that is perpetually in flux. 

My Note: The problem with buzzwords is that they lose their meaning. Think of how the word “optics” is now part of the political lexicon. It’s meaningless talk. So, digging into the term “innovation” here will be helpful, particularly if there are examples to back up how George defines it.

Quote: A tool that could change education for the better—a laptop, tablet, or interactive white board—too often ends up becoming the equivalent of a thousand-dollar pencil.

My Note: I am thinking of Interactive Whiteboards that become little more than large passive screens. Our school invested heavily in them and only a few through the building are using many of the interactive features. Some teachers don’t even turn them on. These are expensive pencils. The key is to figure out how to harness the possibilities for student interaction and student creativity.

Quote: We forget that if students leave school less curious than when they started, we have failed them.

My Note: True. I wonder how best to determine that? I’m not suggesting we do a Standardized Curiosity Test (although I am sure Pearson would be all lined up for that contract). But I wonder how to gauge the growth of curiosity over an extended period of time.

Quote: … if we want “innovative students,” we will need “innovative educators.”

My Note: So true, and so difficult at times, and yet, if the school system/administrators set the stage, I bet a whole bunch of teachers are ready to take that step forward. If the message from above is — keep to the script — most teachers won’t vary all that much. They fear for their job. They worry about evaluations. Sending the message — take a chance — shifts everything. Maybe that’s how the audience of this book might be pivotal.

I have made my highlights and notes “public” on the Kindle system, if that interests you. (OK — not sure if that is the right link or not. Good luck).

Peace (bubbling up),

Slice of Life: Generator Blues

(This is a Slice of Life story, which is a regular feature at Two Writing Teachers. Come write with us.)

flickr photo shared by Jacob Davies under a Creative Commons ( BY-SA ) license

We lost our power the other day. A huge tree crashed down across the main roadway, taking down wires. Sparks everywhere. The police set up roadblocks and traffic was zooming through our quiet neighborhood. It was a mess. And the electricity loss was going on five hours when my wife looked at me and said, We should start the generator.

We were both worrying about the Ben & Jerry’s in the freezer, you know.


We bought our home generator about six years ago, after a winter storm knocked out our power for nearly a week. The sump pump stopped working, and well, if you have a basement that needs a pump, you know you never want it to stop working. So we invested in a generator and paid to have an electrician wire the house for it.

And once or twice a year, I kick the thing into gear in the driveway to make sure it can start. But we have never ever had to hook it up to the house and actually use it. On one hand, that’s good. No big storms. On the other hand … we paid a lot to get it set and then we never have to use it.

But I have to admit: it stressed me out to finally have to hook it all up. I was reading my handwritten notes to myself about how to do it — which breakers need to be pushed where, and so on. I questioned my writing. What did I mean “push it left”?  The last thing I wanted was to be fooling around with electricity.

We did figure it out, and got it work. But you can prob guess the end of this story. One minute into getting the fridge and pump and lights up and running on the generator, the electricity came back on and we were back to normal again.


At least I remember now how it is done. I hope I don’t have to worry about it for a long time, though. (And this time, along with notes, I drew some pictures for my future self.)

Peace (generate it),

Graphic Novel Review: Ogres Awake!

So, this is not technically a graphic novel, per se. More like a graphic story. Ogres Awake seems to reside in that soft category between comic and graphic novel and picture book … in a good way.

This short book, appropriate for younger elementary students, is a quick read, and it comes from the creative minds of the same folks who wrote the fantastic Adventures in Cartooning series. We even see the return of the Knight and his Horse here, which makes for a welcome revisit to some fun characters.

The story revolves around some ogres, awakening from a nap, and the destruction they will certainly cause when they get up because ogres, as you should know, wake up very, very hungry. The Knight wants to ready the kingdom’s weapons and armies to battle the ogres. He envisions swordfights and dashing adventures on the battlefield. The King has other ideas … and so the soup gets put on the kettle.

There are some hilarious scenes with the Knight as he misunderstands what’s going on as the King enlists him. The Knight’s “battle” against the giant pile of potatoes that need peeling (For King! For Country!) is pretty hilarious, and the gentle humor that the writers have imbued in this story is sweet. Plus, the book’s use of the comic elements to tell the story — with panels and perspectives and more –makes Ogres Awake a nice addition to anyone’s graphic novel (eh, story) collection.

Finally, there is also the kind of added bonus we expect from Adventures in Cartooning crew: the inside covers of Ogres Awake features drawing lessons for readers to follow so that they can make the Knight in many poses (including, playing a tuba and boogie woogie-ing), Edward the horse, the gnomes of the King, and the Ogres.

Peace (with food not war),


#IMMOOC: Go and Find Out

flickr photo shared by masondan under a Creative Commons ( BY-NC-SA ) license

Thanks to Sheri Edwards, I am hopping back into another MOOC. This time, it is the IMOOC (or Innovator Mindset MOOC), and I am curious. It is co-facilitated by Katie Martin, whom I don’t know, and George Couros, whose name is well known to me but with whom I have not interacted (as far as my addled brain can remember) before this weekend.

Already, I find myself wondering about the term “innovation” and what that looks like in the classroom. I know, I still have to read George’s book — The Innovator’s Mindset — I’ve just started it. Sometimes, we get so bombarded by terms that they lose their meaning. Disruption. Innovation. Change. Action Research. Inquiry-based Learning.

So I am happy to dig into the term and the ideas with others in the MOOC, and see what there is to be seen below the surface. And I see, after reading just the start of the book, that this is a central question that George hones in on.

Defining Innovation #immooc

For myself, I see innovation in my classroom has a slow-moving thing. It evolves over time, not in some sudden herky-jerky motion. And stand-deliver professional development is not going to cut it, either. We educators have to dive in, experience it, react and reflect, and wonder about it. We have to live it ourselves before we ask our students to live it. Or, we have to pay attention to the lives of our students, and innovate from there. This is the heart of the Connected Learning MOOC (CLMOOC) experience.

The reason for the slow bubbling is that I need time to reflect on changes that I bring into my classroom. I need to react, and wonder, and tinker. When I think of the term, innovation, I often think to technology that causes the world to reconsider what has come behind us and wonder what is coming ahead. I also know that innovative ideas do not have to revolve around technology but tech is the first thing that comes to mind these days. Perhaps we need to uncouple those terms from each other, in order to broaden out our understanding.

And, despite my conceptual thinking of instant disruption, innovation is not often all that sudden. Not that dramatic. Maybe it is really is more about a slow revolution. What does that look like in my classroom?

I think back to a picture book project with my sixth graders that has evolved into something completely different over time through innovative practice, brought on by curiosity and a shifting landscape of platforms. Our picture book project began in my first year of teaching (15 years ago), with colored pencils and paper, and a stapler as the binder. We shared with each other.

Then, about four years later, we moved to Powerpoint, to create slideshows that were really picture books (slides were pages), and we wove in science and math themes as part of the storytelling devices. We shared with each other, and younger grades in our school, and families.

Finally, about five years ago, we shifted to creating and publishing science-based video games, keeping our focus on literacies and science, but using the lure of video game design to hook students as creators and makers of digital content for an authentic audience. We shared with each other, other students in our school, families and to the larger game-playing world (in Gamestar Mechanic).

Notice how this shift took many, many years to make. Part of it was technology — could I have had students designing and publishing video games early on? I don’t think so. The technology wasn’t available for what I needed to do, and for the entry points needed for my sixth graders.

And I wasn’t ready for it, either. I needed to immerse myself into gaming, and think through what it might look like in the classroom. I had to make my own video games, and then envision the learning moments. (See our website where we shared resources on video game design and tracked our first year of the project)

I wonder: what’s next with this idea? Where do I go from here? And, as important, do I? Should I even innovate further? I’m nowhere ready for it, but Augmented Reality might be a logical innovative step forward (or perhaps it is just another false excitement) for our science-based storytelling. Could we make Google Cardboard goggles and create some interactive science/storytelling experience? How in the world would I even approach it, though? I don’t know. Not yet.

That’s one of the interesting elements of being an educator. We go and find out. And then we innovate.

Rikki Tikki: Go and Find Out

Peace (dipping in),

#DigiLitSunday: Filters, Floodgates and Us

flickr photo shared by el_finco under a Creative Commons ( BY-NC-SA ) license

My son was born on Sept. 11.  Not the date of the horrific attack on the US. A few years later. My wife and I always say that we helped bring healing on 9/11 by bringing a beautiful baby into the world. But now that he is older, and more attuned to the world, he is asking some deep and probing questions about the nature of the attack whose anniversary coincides with his birthday.

Today is his birthday.

For years, we have acted a filter for our kids about 9/11. Not a wall that lets in no information. But as a filter, in which we have tried to let them know of things like the 9-11 attacks, and tried to address some of the reasons (as best as we can discern) for the attacks and the aftermath, and how the world changed suddenly in the aftermath.  We’ve had relatives in war zones and I’ve had friends in Iraq and Afghanistan. We’ve filtered the information to provide some Truth (or as best we can figure it) without the devastating imagery that comes with it.

It’s a losing battle, ultimately, but as parents (and as educators), we do need to act as curators of digital content for our children. Or we should try. The reality is that filters only go so far, and filters are only as effective as the thinking behind it and the information in front of it, and just beyond the filter lies the floodgates.

flickr photo shared by Alpstedt under a Creative Commons ( BY-NC-SA ) license

The Deluge from the Digital eventually will come.

The other day, in the car, as we listened to a story on NPR about rescue workers from 9/11, my son began to pepper me with questions about the event. Why did it happen? Was it just New York? (I reminded him that his uncle worked in the Pentagon in the time after the attack there and how devastated he was to see the Pentagon, and the loss of life). What about the other plane? The one that passengers brought down, sacrificing themselves, in order to thwart an attack? Were they heroes? What would I do if I had been on that plane? Could he watch the movie, Flight 93?

I was still a filter, slightly more open now, given his age. I provided information (and told him he might need to wait on the movie). I am heartened by the number of books for middle age readers now out about 9/11 and am looking for one we can read together.

Still, I fear the floodgates.

I fear the images he might find if he does web searches when I am not there with him. I worry about when he starts to use social media as a teenager, and hears rumors and false stories about tragic events. I worry that the Digital World, which I often celebrate here and in my classroom, might be the harbinger of lost innocence.  I know I am probably already too late, that the world is quicker and bigger and more intrusive than I can ever predict. I’m fast on my feet but not quick enough. I know I can’t be my son’s protector forever.

I know all that.

I still worry about it.

The best we can do with our children and our students is try to be one of the trusted adults they can talk to, and ask questions of, and to be the ones whom they can turn to when the world turns upside down on them — in small ways and in larger ways. To be that kind adult, though, seems like walking on shifting sands so much of the time.

We do what we can and hope for the best.

flickr photo shared by Onasill ~ Bill Badzo under a Creative Commons ( BY-NC-SA ) license

Peace (and Hope for the Better World),

At Middleweb: Forget the Tech/Focus on Learning


My start-of-the-year post for my Middleweb blog — Working Draft — is about what happened when I realized that the technology platform that I use at the beginning of the school year for a few projects with my sixth graders … died and disappeared on me. I had that slight panic of now what and then realized, again, it is never about the technology.

Read More Proof It’s the Teaching, Not the Tech at Middleweb

Peace (settling in now),

Defining Digital Writing (A Modest Proposal)

Digital Writing, in the margins

It’s quite possible this is impossible. I am trying to narrow in on the affordances of what we mean by the phrase “Digital Writing.” I may even veer way off track here, and perhaps it is best for all of us just to drop the “digital” once and for all, and just call it .. writing. Although, I, for one, still prefer the word “composing.”

Still … I am on this merry path of thinking because I am giving an ending Keynote to the (free!) 4T Virtual Conference on Digital Writing, which takes place on Sundays in October and because I have been engaged in an intriguing margin annotation activity with my CLMOOC friend, Karen LaBonte, who wrote a “field report” blog post that shared some critique of the phrase “Digital Writing” by close family members.

That had me thinking: OK, so WHAT do we mean? What affordances does the digital bring to writing? How is it different from what we think of as (regular) writing (ie, paper, pen/cil, etc.) And, why do we need to differentiate?

Here is a rough list of affordances, in my view, of how Digital Writing is different from, eh, Analog Writing. (Boy, that phrase looks odd, right?)

Digital Writing …

  • is more than just words typed on a screen. A simple blog post is not really digital writing;
  • potentially crosses mediums, so that words might mix with sound might mix with video might mix with other media;
  • narrows the gap between writer and reader by giving more agency to the reader than traditional relationships, and so, the writer must plan for that changed relationship;
  • can have deeper associative properties, particularly when thinking of how hyperlinks embedded within the text might connect one text to another, providing options and trails that move away from the main text itself;
  • may or may not harness the possibilities of the underlying yet mostly hidden “writing” — the computer code of the page that we read that has been represented as text but is actually not text;
  • provides for possible collaborations beyond the writer, and sometimes without their permission or notice, such as the margin annotations on a website page or a remix of media.

The criticism, including my own, may be be that most of what I just wrote in this list is not necessarily “writing.” It is more technology — tinkering with the way we represent writing in the larger world. But I still think if “composing” is the word we use when it comes to “digital writing,” we are more apt to be open to the use of various media, of hyperlinks like paths on a literacy map, of reader involvement in the original text, of the sort of planning that “digital writer” has to do to create a “digital text.” It is all composition.

DIGITAL the poem

I don’t think we are at a point where all writing is digital writing, and therefore, we don’t need a separate designation on it. I don’t know if digital writing is the right term, though. But it does seem to me that we need some way to show that technology is changes the way we compose our texts in the world, if only so we can talk about it (and maybe debate it).

What do you think?

Peace (write it into the world),

The Appeal of Musical.ly (and the Trap of the Likes)


My 11 year old son has really enjoyed making videos with the Musical.ly app this summer. If you don’t know what it that is, Musical.ly is a lip-syncing app, which provides short bursts of song that the user creates an equally short video for. Most people lip-sync the song and share within the community. Tons of kids are using it.

I was going through the videos my son had been making (nearly 100 now), and I was laughing at his sense of humor. His friend was over this weekend, and they made a very interesting one, that was shot entirely in reverse, as his friend catches some inflatable baseballs and items while grooving to a song. A sort of trick-camera thing. I thought it neat, but it might just be a simple tweak of the app. I’m not sure.

(Note: I asked later the boys about it. It was done in the app. So much for hacking the app for creative video editing.)

I also get a little antsy, though, in how my son, entering his middle school years, gets caught up in the number of viewers and likes and all of the suitcase luggage of social media (thumbs up, plus, etc.) on his work (not just here in this app but also in other platforms) that doesn’t really designate anything much in reality. He sees it as “someone is watching what I am making” but I suspect it is an ego thing, too. He wants to be popular, and he sees technology as one of the ways to be “cool.”

We’re already overhearing conversations about “how many views do you have?” and “how many videos have you made?” as if it were all a cold numbers game.

We’re trying to temper that impulse for “likes without context” with discussions at home, as best we can. He’s always enjoyed making movies, and has regularly written and produced videos himself with friends. (In fact, he is finishing up the editing a video that he and this same friend shot over the weekend.)

This Musical.ly app is designed for short videos, and I hope that it doesn’t suck dry the creative fountain for his desire to make longer video productions. I hope, instead, it gives him more ideas that he can use elsewhere.

And sure, he’s having fun with it. That’s important, too.

Peace (in navigating the world),