Reflecting on the Importance of Maps

My Twitter Map Collage

We’ve had maps on our minds at the Making Learning Connected MOOC this week. You’d be surprised (or not, if you are in the MOOC) by the range of mapping that went on — from typical geographical maps, to metaphorical maps, to maps that were flowcharts mapping out an idea. And lots more in-between.

Maps are interesting things, aren’t they? They help us shape our world. We make maps to put ideas and people and places into some semblance of order and connections. Maps are heuristics, a way to make sense of things that at first seem beyond making sense. Maps are also place markers. They document where we’ve been, and where we are going, and how we are going to get there.

In terms of the principles of Connected Learning, what makes maps so important is that they can show connections forged between ideas and between people. In the collage above, which I created early on in the week and then never posted, notice the bottom right image map. This comes from a service that will map out connections from Twitter (Mentionmap), and I’m struck by how important those people have become to my professional growth as a teacher. I turn to folks in my network a lot for help, for advice, for sounding board ears. You can’t quite see all of the smaller connections, but there are tons of folks that I orbit around on a regular basis. That’s something I know without having this map, but the map helps me see those connections from a new angle, and it documents where I am right now. (And the site allows you to click deeper into connections, moving through the nodes of people and hashtags — that’s something the static image does not show.)

The top map (via Tweetsmap) in the collage shows followers from around the world. That map is not nearly as useful and as interesting to me as the other one because I don’t “see” connections in the top one. I just see data points, and data points without context are not all that useful. In the bottom map, in the live version, you can follow the linking lines, and watch as other connections unfold, and the web that comes into play makes you realize that we are immersed in the connected educator movement. The map makes that more visible than ever.

The other day, I was thinking about maps in connection to literature because my youngest son and I were immersed in “reading” a map that is part of a book we are reading aloud (The Familiars). He was running his finger along the river crossing the world, and asking about the names of these imaginary places, and I realized how important this map was to him, the listener of this story, as we situate ourselves as readers to a magical place beyond our view. This map was a document we come back to regularly as we read, following the heroes on their journey. The same thing happens with maps in other books we read. When we start a read-aloud, we often turn to the first and last page, searching for a map to orientate us to the story.

The question of whether making maps is “writing” and interpreting maps is “reading” — and thus, part of literacy came up in a few discussions this week — and I would argue, yes. What about you?

Peace (along the terrain),
Kevin

 

Using Video to Capture Classroom Practice in Action

Here’s an interesting look at how one teacher — Sarah Brown Wessling, from The Teaching Channel — uses a video camera to capture what she is doing in her classroom, as part of her reflective practice.

Anyone else do this on a regular basis?

Peace (in the lens),
Kevin

 

Graphic Novel Review: Delilah Dirk and the Turkish Lieutenant

http://talkingcomicbooks.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/DelilahDirk_Cover.jpg

Now here is a pleasant surprise: a female protagonist in an adventure/action graphic novel story, whose wit and expertise carry the day. In Delilah Dirk and the Turkish Lieutenant, by Tony Cliff, the heroine — Delilah Dirk — meets up with Erdemoglu Selim (the lieutenant), strikes up a friendship in the midst of escaping one trap or another, and moves on to even more danger in her life as a freewheeling spirit whose never known to pass up the possibility of treasure, no matter how dangerous it might be.

This book by the  publishing company of First Second evolved from a webcomic series that Cliff has been developing and publishing online, but I enjoyed the adventure book without knowing a single thing of the backstory of Delilah Dirk.  Her swashbuckling energy drew me right into the story. In fact, I found it fascinating to catch a glimpse of her character through her actions, although Cliff focuses more on Selim as the psuedo-narrator of the story here, which begins when Selim is kicked out of his job because of Delilah, is almost executed because of it and then has his life saved by the story’s heroine.

There’s a breathless rush of action here, sort of like Indiana Jones, and the artwork is beautiful. We never quite resolve how a woman of Delilah’s talents conflicts with the mores of the Turkish society (male-dominated) but I appreciated Cliff’s restraint from developing a love interest between the two main characters. In fact, Delilah is not sexualized at all, although she is beautiful in mind, spirit and intelligence. Plus, she’s the most skilled sword fighter in the book.

And did I mention her flying ship?

There’s a lot to appreciate in Delilah Dirk and the Turkish Lieutenant and I look forward to more adventures.

Peace (in the book),
Kevin

 

Blogwalking at the Making Learning Connected MOOC

(with apologies to my good friend, Gail Desler, who uses the moniker Blogwalker for her blog.)
clmooc blogwalk
Yesterday, one of the questions I wondered about is whether folks in the Making Learning Connected MOOC are writing and sharing in spaces beyond the typical field of vision. The answer is “yes” and one of those spaces are on their blogs. There is a Blog Hub at the main MOOC website, but I was also curious about how to collect all of those blogs together. I decided to use Jog the Web and encourage you to take a blogwalk through the field of blogs, where folks are doing sharing and reflecting.

Go to the CLMOOC Blogwalk Jog the Web site

Another view on Jog the Web is the Index view.

Go to the Index View of the CLMOOC Blogwalk

If you are in the MOOC and blogging, be sure to add yours to the Blog Hub and drop me a note here, so that I can add you into the Blogwalk, too.

Peace (in the tour),
Kevin

 

Five Questions on Friday for the Making Learning Connected MOOC

MOOC News
Dear MOOC,

How are you? It’s about about three weeks now since you were launched, and I was there right at the start. Actually, I was there right before the start, too, helping to plant some of the seeds and hoping you would find some roots.  You have! It’s been pretty amazing to watch you grow as more and more people add ideas and connections. Today is Friday, which is a Find Friday idea that Anna came up with to connect those of us in you with more of us in you — sort of like a Spider’s Web of connective threads. Today, Anna asks us to consider asking some questions about you, and I figured, who better to ask, MOOC my friend, than you?

So, Mooc, my friend, I have a few points of inquiry that are on my mind:

  • Is there demographic diversity in the MOOC? It may be my own impressions, but participants seem to be mostly white Americans. This is a topic that I wonder about as a facilitator of you, most of all, because it forces us to examine our invitational messages, our openness, and our outreach into diverse communities. We want more voices and more perspectives. This question does not mean what you are is not rich with experience and with creativity because, well, just take a look, and you’ll see that it is. It’s amazing. Still, how can/could we have expanded the possibilities even further and could we have done more to help bring in more cultural diversity, MOOC?
  • Why are you so Google Plus-centric? I have to admit, MOOC, that being part of you and the Teach the Web MOOC has brought me new appreciation for Google Plus as a place for an online community. I wasn’t a huge user before, but I am now. There’s a lot to like. Still, given that “open” is your middle name, we were hoping that more folks would find other spaces in which to collaborate and reflect. Twitter is your distant cousin, and blogs seem a far third. Is there a fourth space that people are using? (Is anyone using Facebook for you, MOOC?)
  • Is it OK that much of the activity seems chaotic? I suspect you don’t mind, MOOC, since you thrive on decentralized activities but I wonder if some people are turned off by the way each Make Cycle unfolds in a flurry of activity? While we try to make clear that people can enter at any time, I wonder if that is the message newcomers get from the activity. MOOC, if you were to stumble upon yourself right now — in the third Make Cycle — what would you think? Would you feel invited to participate?
  • How can we better encourage folks to break off into smaller, interest-driven groups? We seem to cluster around each other in large groups, in a positive way, and yet, one of the hopes, MOOC, is that folks would begin to see others with similar passions and similar interests, and create pathways to connect. Is there something more we can do/should have done to set the stage for that kind of small group setting?
  • What will happen, MOOC, when the last Make Cycle comes to a close in early August? Will the energy of you keep the ideas alive so that the “making” and “connecting” will filter into classroom experiences? Ultimately, that’s why we put you in motion, MOOC, for people this summer. First, to give folks time to play. Second, to encourage all of us to consider implications for learning environments.

So, MOOC, there you are — a few questions on my mind. Be sure to write back, won’t you?

Until I hear from you, happy making and joyful connecting, and always remain open and collaborative in spirit and in deeds!

Peace (in questions),
Kevin

PS — the image above was created with the Newspaper Clipping site. Give it a try, MOOC, and make your own news.

 

Book Review: The Ocean at the End of the Lane

“Adult stories never made sense. They made me feel like they were secrets, Masonic, mythic secrets, to adulthood. Why didn’t adults want to read about Narnia, about secret islands and smugglers and dangerous fairies?” — unnamed narrator, The Ocean at the End of the Lane.

There some authors, that when they publish something new, I am so ready to devour their stories. Neil Gaiman is one of those writers, although I came late to his books in just the last few years. His style and sense of the world is so unique that, even with his quirkiness (or maybe because of it), his books find a way to draw you in and give in to imagination. I still think Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book is one of the best examples of young adult fiction published in recent years, even if it does begin with a brutal murder.

His latest – The Ocean at the End of the Lane — has faint echoes of other classics that capture childhood in a story for adults. Namely, A Wrinkle in Time resonates throughout The Ocean at the End of the Lane. That’s a good thing, in my mind, and Gaiman plays with our sense of time and timelessness in unexpected ways in this story of a young boy whose neighbors have a certain magic that brings something awful into the world. The nameless adult narrator, remembering a time when he seven years old, tells this tale to us, and while the first part of the book moves slowly, it sets the stage for everything else to come.

This is a “coming of age” sort of book, but not quite, as Gaiman explores the fierce perceptions of childhood, and how adults see the world one way, and their children, another. I suppose this is true. What Gaiman explores is the dichotomy of adults viewing childhood as a safe place, while children know otherwise. There is danger and chaos lurking around every corner of our imagination, and the slightest mistake — say, forgetting to hold hands with the girl who tells you to never let go of her hand — can uncork things unimaginable and set the world on tilt.

This novel is a short one, fast-paced, and by the time you hit the middle, you’ll be racing for the end. If you are like me, the resonance of magic will linger for some time, and it may have you looking at your own children a little differently. Keep them safe, will you? And I would suggest that this book is for adults, not children, although it comes under the guise of a children’s story. But perhaps Gaiman would disagree, and argue that keeping children sheltered is not what we want to be doing. He’s not afraid to expose the dark underpinnings of the world, and maybe stories are a way to understand what we don’t quite understand.

Peace (in the magic),
Kevin

Mapping the MOOC and the Front Yard, Plus a Poem

I am trying to see mapping from a few perspectives this week. One one hand, I have a collaborative map project going with the Making Learning Connected MOOC in which I have created a map with Google and opened it up to the public, inviting MOOC participants to “pin themselves” on the map and consider adding a six word memoir. It’s been nice to begin to situate where people live, putting some geographical ties to the words and sharing that has been flowing in the MOOC adventure.
mooc map

And then, inspired by a fellow MOOC participant, I decided to try out the idea of something on a much smaller scale. This “learning walk” is from my front yard. I took my camera and shot a bunch of images, straight down to the ground, of my front yard and then stitched them together into a collage (I ended up downloading a free app – Picture Collage). I really love how the whole captures the essence of the yard, and how one can find elements of beauty in the small focus, too.
yardcollage
In both activities, I was seeking to make some sense of my world — from my connections in online spaces via the MOOC to connections to the soil and pavement of my house, and both senses of mapping have value, I think, in that they bubble up information in a way that puts things in perspective.

Finally, all these mapping activities reminded me of a poem I once wrote, in which the mapping idea went very inward.

On the Cartographer’s Map
Listen to the poem

This creeping cord
of tension slips
its knot
and moves as a snake to the heart
I’d fall apart
but the world needs
an Atlas to keep it balanced
(precarious as it is
and such a reluctant hero, burdened)
Always there is this sense of renewal
just around the bend
with outstretched hands waiting
to grab this globe and spin me free
on the cartographer’s canvas –
crisscrossed with longitude –
layered with latitude –
I am wondering all the while where the edge is
where I will fall off
and tumble into the nothingness.

Peace (in along the lines),
Kevin
 

Maps, Music and Me

We’ve been asked to make a map this week as part of the Making Learning Connected MOOC, and I wonder if people are struggling with the idea. I’ve started any number of maps that seemed like they might be interesting (one was a map of my childhood apartment complex; another is an ongoing attempt to map out some elements of Twitter), but I didn’t get very far. I think I have struggled with how to make the map have deeper levels, to move beyond the literal. This is not part of the assignment, but I felt myself wanting to do that more and more.

So, taking a cue from the concept that mapping can come in many forms, I wondered if I could use the metaphor of music for a way to map out my life, or at least, views on life. Music has long been part of the fabric of myself — from playing music, to writing music, to just plain loving music.

I decided to do it in comic form:
Maps, Music and Me
Peace (in the melody),
Kevin

PS — Joe created this cool playlist about mapping.

 

 

Collecting Stopmotion Makes

Over at the Making Learning Connected MOOC,  folks have been dabbling with Stopmotion as part of their playful “makes” and I’ve been collecting them as they are shared. Check out this emerging playlist:

Peace (in the frames),
Kevin

 

Book Review: Crafting Digital Writing

Image from Heinemann

Note from Kevin: I need to add a few disclaimers here before I start my review of Crafting Digital Writing by Troy Hicks. First of all, I know Troy and have presented with Troy and consider him a friend and colleague through the National Writing Project and beyond. Second, he sent me this book for free because one of my students and her work is featured in a chapter. I am also mentioned as her teacher. Third, I am a huge fan of Troy Hicks as a writer and thinker, and I appreciate his views on the world of digital writing. Personally, I would scoop up anything he has to say.

There.

So, this is not an unbiased review.

Like his last book — Digital Writing Workshop — Troy Hicks puts a deep lens on what it means to be writing in the digital age, and what it means to be teaching students who write in a digital age. Where his last book drew parallels between our traditional sense of the Writing Workshop format and writing practices with digital tools, Crafting Digital Writing focuses on the art and craft of using technology and media to communicate, to tell stories across various media and to present information to an audience, local and global. The subtitle “Composing Texts Across Media and Genre” gives a nice teaser to what is inside this book.

I appreciated how Hicks opens up the book with a look at what we mean by writers’ craft, and then urges teachers and their students to start small and slow down in order to really notice and make visible the elements of digital writing that goes beyond just copying and pasting text and putting it onto the Web. That, he argues (and I agree), is not what we mean by digital writing. He also wisely charts out the various narrative, informational and argumentative texts that one might use, drawing connections to the Common Core in a meaningful way.

“Craft is key to good writing, whether that writing is word on a page or involves additional media.” — Troy Hicks (16)

The format of the chapters of this book involve sharing mentor texts from students, with Hicks using a heuristic model known as MAPS, in which the reader is invited to consider mode, media, audience, purpose and situation. Hicks returns to this theme again and again, giving us helpful reminders of what we need to thinking about in terms of craft and teaching and expectations around digital media texts. MAPS provides a lens from which to think about digital writing.

The chapters here range from topics such as creating web texts, to presentation design, to using audio for voice, to composing text as video, and even a chapter around social media. In each, Hicks is a thoughtful tour guide, being honest in the limitations of the technology and student use of that technology as well as holding out possibilities for pushing the way young people write in new directions. He’s honest in his view of student work, too, noticing the weak points as much as the strong. There’s a heavy dose of realism in this book as well as much inspiration for teachers.

All in all, Crafting Digital Writing is a worthy read. It provides more than examples; it provides a path forward for teachers who see their students writing in all sort of formats not necessarily valued by educational systems. Hicks situates those kinds of writing within the framework of learning and creativity, urging us to think about how we can engage our students in meaningful, thoughtful, and exemplary writing. He asks us to expand our notions of writing and then develop ways to teach it.

“We need to ask our digital writers to work with intention. This requires that we keep thinking, taking risks, learning from our mistakes, and working each day to model and mentor them in the craft of digital writing.” — Hicks (177)

As in most of his ventures, Hicks has set up online spaces for sharing resources and student work featured in the book and for sparking discussions in a Google Plus Community. (You can even preview the book at the publisher’s site)

Peace (in agreement),
Kevin