The other day riding home from a periodontal appointment in a foul mood I rode into a wave of ozone and turbulent clouds. Spots of rain began to hit the visor while waves of rain approached over the horizon. I pulled over to take some shower pictures and ponder the state of the world; it’s been a tough month in motorcycle culture.
Robert Pirsig died in April after a long and difficult life. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance is a deep and nuanced read written by a man of tremendous intelligence who battled with mental illness. If you can hang on to it and the philosophy it pitches at you, you’ll find a an ending worth waiting for. Pirsig’s little book is one of the best examples of deep thinking intertwined with motorcycling I’ve found. He leaves behind an important legacy.
Nicky Hayden, by contrast, was living the dream. A man who found his passion early and then excelled at it, Nicky raced motorcycles in pretty much every level of road racing there is, and he did it with an infectious grin plastered across his face.
He was in the paddock of MotoGP a few years ago when I started watching, but by then he was on a satellite bike and struggling near the back of the field. It wasn’t until I saw The Doctor, The Tornado and the Kentucky Kid that I realized the trajectory of Nicky Hayden’s career and came to respect both his talent and his tenacity.
Nicky was training on a bicycle on a road in Italy after his last round of World Superbike racing on my birthday when he was hit by a car. After some days in a coma he passed away. It’s the kind of news you don’t expect to hear. Nicky wanted to work on reintroducing a new generation of American road racers to the sport when he retired (there are currently no Americans contesting MotoGP when it used to be dominated by them), but instead he’s gone. Because of a driver in Italy not seeing a cyclist none of that will happen now.
I stood there feeling the temperature dip, the wind kick up and the darkness fall while ruminating on these two very different deaths – an old man and a young man, an academic and anathlete, both linked over decades only by their love of two wheels.
I jumped on the bike and got home just as everything went pear shaped outside. Rain lashed the windows and the day went dark.
Of course, as is the way of things, when the storm passed the sun came back and reminded me how beautiful the world can be.
Last week during a staff meeting one of our administrators said, ‘the kids are so far ahead of us” (technically). The subtext was because they are on their phones all day they are more digitally literate than we old people (anyone over twenty). As someone who teaches digital skills and who knows first hand how ignorant our digital natives are, I verbally disagreed quite vociferously. A week later the digital ignorance we choose to ignore was highlighted once again. I got a call from a business computer lab saying Photoshop wasn’t opening student .jpg files. Jpegs are a common picture file format and photoshop is more than capable of opening them. This wasn’t a technical failure, it was the much more common human kind. I asked a student to show me how they saved their file as a jpeg. They selected save and then typed in .jpg at the end of the file and saved. Photoshop defaults to save in the .psd file format that is lossless and keeps layering data. It makes for a bigger file, but you keep all your image data. Jpeg is popular because it compresses files quite drastically with an equivalent loss to quality, the result is a much smaller and simpler file that work well online.
PSDs and JPGs are nothing like the same file. Windows only looks to the file extension (the .jpg part of picture.jpg) to see how to open it. If you call a file a jpeg that isn’t a jpeg, you’ve caused the error. This is exactly what these digital natives had done. All they had to do was ‘save as’ and select jpeg for this to work, but they don’t know what they don’t know.
This situation points to a larger shift that has become more apparent in recent years. Many of our students now have little or no experience with local file management. The first Chromebooks came out in 2011, when our current high school students were in grade 4. Many of them haven’t lived in anything other than the cloud. When they save files they don’t know where they go because they aren’t familiar with the basic organizational structure of a computer. File naming so you don’t get confused, saving as a file type so your PC knows how to open it, directory structures so you know where to look for files? These kids who ‘are so far ahead of us’ are moving further away from that every day.
Local files aren’t something 2017 students generally deal with. If you ask most high school students how many mp3s that they have they’ll look at you like you’re crazy, they don’t do local music any more. Ask them how they organize their photographs and you’ll get the same look of confusion and condescension. Our Board network is currently broken under the weight of all these cloud based students constantly streaming media content from the internet all the time every day. When they can’t find access to the cloud they are more than willing to have their data phished and break board policy by using VPNs (see below) to bypass board restrictions, further clogging up an already overused network. Those ‘free’ VPNs are closely watching a directed stream of personal data; there’s money in that.
It’s frustrating enough when a student says they can’t find you a document they swear they made and then shows you a google docs directory full of something called ‘untitled document’, but the new normal is to expect students to have no idea how or where a computer saves a file. Network dependency and having someone else manage your data is the new normal.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, we have to build a digital fluency stream into Ontario’s curriculum. We expect students to magically know how to operate technology because they immerse themselves in simplistic, habitual usage for hours a day. That limited experience does not improve digital fluency. If we’re going to expect students to know how to save files, manage their own data and protect themselves from an internet increasingly designed to take advantage of their ignorance, we need to make digital fluency something other than an afterthought, or worse, off load it on ageist stereotypes of technical prowess.
Virtual Private Network: they were made so that people away from a corporate network could create a tunnel across the internet to the local network and work as though they were in the building. Any data in that tunnel is very difficult to see. That’s what makes it handy for avoiding blocks – the board network can’t easily read what’s happening in that encrypted tunnel. Needless to say, this also produces a lot of lag and network traffic as everything you access over the network is waiting on VPN relays and contains the data needed to access that VPN as well.
VPNs have turned into fake network addresses with companies offering a remote connection for a price (so you can pretend you’re American and get better Netflix). If it’s free, I imagine they are mining your data in the best case or phishing for passwords and financial information in the worst case – I’m willing to bet none of our students pay for their VPN usage so they’re all playing a dangerous game with hackers. Using a VPN means you’re passing all of your data through an unknown server (unless you set one up yourself – which I’m willing to bet none of our students know how to do).
Since all your traffic is coming from the VPN server address (and these change all the time), blocks to sites like YouTube don’t work because it doesn’t look like you’re going to YouTube. I wonder what the incidents of corrupted credit cards are with our free-VPN using student phones.
Last year at this time I was stunned by our first Skills Ontario gold medal and suddenly found myself on Team Ontario going to Nationals. We’d been battling in Ontario provincial competition for several years before that break through. In the year since I’m surprised by how engaged I’ve been in preparing to compete again. Being hungry after years of failure is in my nature, I’m competitive, but I thought perhaps the win would tick a box and cause me to change direction; it has poured gasoline on the fire. I’m proud to wear that Team Ontario jacket.
This year Skills Ontario has moved to a bigger venue, which was needed. Unfortunately, instead of it being twenty minutes away through the country, it’s hours away through the worst commute in North America. The new venue is great and it fits this huge event, unfortunately it’s located on the Moon – actually the Moon would be easier to get to.
I tried to be creative and cost effective and look for ways to make this impact our competitors as minimally as possible, but the school bus route was a disaster. We were all up at 4am on the day of competition. We were on the road just past 5am and it took us almost three hours of fighting interminable traffic piloted by people with dead eyes to get there. We arrived late, tired and worried that we’d missed check in; not the ideal way to start an all-day nine hours of competition.
I got my people signed in and then I could unclench. In IT this year I had the brother of a previous competitor who I think is one of my strongest yet, expectations were high. He ended up getting stuck on something so simple that he was kicking himself pretty much the moment the competition was over, but I think that error was more the result of four hours of sleep, a miserable commute and the stress of getting there late. Under the circumstances I think he did a fantastic job, but I failed to provide the logistics necessary for him to produce his best work.
After the early morning, three hour commute-from-hell in and nine straight hours of competition (my student didn’t feel he could take a lunch and finish in time), we had to wait for everyone to finish and didn’t leave the venue until well past 5pm… straight into evening rush hour. It took even longer for us to fight our way out of the GTA and then we thumped into the twilight along miles of potholed Ontario roads on the leaf sprung school bus. When we finally rolled in well after 8pm I was exhausted, my sciatica was screaming at me and I hadn’t spent nine hours in intense competition; I can’t imagine how the kids felt.
I went home, took Robaxacet and passed out having not eaten anything since lunch. The next morning I was up at 6am to get back on a god-forsaken school bus at 7am to go back to the same place we’d just left for the awards ceremony. It took us nearly three hours to get there through the angry parking lot that is the GTA. Getting to the ceremony late, we sat through the awards in an excellent venue. My IT competitor managed to get a bronze medal, which I think is brilliant (he thought the whole thing was a write off). He must have aced the rest of it considering the single mistake he made meant he couldn’t answer many questions.
Back on the bus again at noon, I took the competitors who hadn’t eaten yet (7am departure) to lunch and we got back to the school at a perfectly reasonable time (no rush hour). I’m already thinking about how to try and manage this next year. My only goal is to deliver my competitors in the best possible shape early and on time to the competition. We looked into hotels, but anything by the airport is twice what it costs anywhere else in Ontario.
There is no doubt that we needed a new venue. They said in the ceremony that Skills Ontario has grown from two hundred to over two thousand competitors, and we’d outgrown RIM Park in Waterloo. It’s unfortunate that the only venue big enough is in the GTA, which gets further and further away from the rest of us in Ontario every year. Having lived in Japan, it amazes me that I could access Tokyo, a city of twenty-five million, with ease, but the GTA with its paltry seven million is infrastructure inaccessible.
At lunch, one of our exhausted students asked why they have to start the competition at rush hour. It’s a good question. Running Skills Ontario next year from 11am to 8pm would save a lot of people their sanity. In non-rush hour times we’re able to get to The Toronto Congress Centre in under ninety minutes. Many of the student visitors don’t get there until past 11am anyway, so it wouldn’t impact that aspect of the show.
I’m disappointed at the results we got this year, but that’s entirely on me. As their coach, my job is to take care of the logistics and deliver them primed and ready to compete. This year had new and difficult circumstances, but I didn’t resolve them sufficiently and it hurt my students’ ability to produce their best work. That guts me. I’ll do better next time.
In another confluence of events I’m reflecting on just how much of an effect teachers have on a student’s trajectory. A misread tweet on how damaging assessment can be was followed by a post on Google+ and punctuated by a graduated student showing up unexpectedly this week. It all got me thinking about how damaging to students teachers can be.
I got into computers when I was ten years old. By the time I was twelve I’d published code and was writing my own programs. It took a single dismissive remark by my computer science teacher to knock me off that trajectory for years.
I did grade ten computer science on a freaking computer punch card reader and did well. I’m not a mathlete and struggled with the theory, but as a hands on coder I’m more than capable – I sympathize with the machine and understand what it needs. In grade eleven we finally got to move to 286×86 IBM PCs and I was very excited. I’d signed up for grades eleven and twelve in consecutive semesters, but after the math teacher running the program basically turned it into a math course, I didn’t do very well. When I walked into the grade twelve class in semester two he looked down his nose at me and said, “Tim? Really?” I dropped the class shortly thereafter. If you asked him now he’d probably say he was doing me a favour. He did me no favours.
Last week I had a young man drop by who graduated a couple of years ago. He asked me if I remembered what our computer science teacher at the time had said to him in grade eleven. He’d basically done to this kid what my computer science teacher did to me. Jake said he bounced back because I essentially designed our new software engineering course around his suggestions, which encouraged him not to give up on his love of coding; he’s about to finish the programming course at Conestoga and he’s debt free because his game studio is making him enough money to pay for his college. Teachers who have never published anything telling people what they can and cannot do really get on my nerves.
This student and I both tend toward a right-brained approach to things, thinking laterally and often intuitively about problem solving. We’re foreign beasts to predominantly left brained math and science types. That linear, concrete thinking allows left brained teachers to place a lot of faith in grades – they believe that they are something more than a vague, abstraction of a student’s abilities. When these mathlete computer science types look down their nose at you in condescension, they believe that the D they gave you means something. I would posit that their certainty makes them a liability in any classroom.
Becoming a high school teacher was never a goal of mine. With a few exceptions I didn’t enjoy school when I was in it and I certainly wasn’t aiming to make a career of it. Now that I find myself teaching I’m constantly aware of just how damaging those gatekeepers in my own background were.
In grade ten I wanted to be an astronomer more than anything else, but a series of science teachers made a point of crushing that dream. I’m hardly stupid, and I was willing, but it was their way or the highway and I don’t bow to authoritarianism very well, especially when my scrappy, experimental approach to problem solving bares fruit. They didn’t like that I struggled to a solution myself rather than following the well trodden path of ‘the right answer’. In retrospect, and with some pedagogy to back me up now, I’d wager that my hard won answer is still with me today while the A+ students who memorized the process have long since forgotten it. Learning is supposed to be messy.
When you think in absolutes you have the potential to do some real harm to children. Every day I make a conscious effort to consider how what I’m saying will encourage genuine learning in my students. I’m not an easy teacher, and often have the biggest friction with the A+ crowd who just want to know what to write so they can do what they’re told and get that A plus they’ve become accustomed to. In those cases I celebrate their efficiency while expanding their resiliency. You don’t need to belittle someone because they do things differently to you.
As teachers we could do a lot worse than following the Hippocratic oath doctors use. If at any point you think you’re helping a student by disciplining them with assessment, you’re not – that was the subtext of my tweet to the Ministry.
If at any point you dismiss a student’s approach to a subject because it’s not the same as yours, you’re helping yourself more than you are your student.
Try and be what you’re supposed to be: the adult in that student’s life who can dispassionately see their potential and then do everything possible to realize it. This can be much harder work than simply attacking kids with numbers because they don’t conform to your process, but it’s much more rewarding.
So many secondary teachers fall into a comfort zone around their familiarity with their subject and are unwilling to see any other way to do it. It might take a bit of lateral thinking, but seeing the value in how a student approaches a subject instead of assessing them based on how closely they follow your methods would be a significant pedagogical step forward. We’d suddenly be assessing how they are grappling with their learning rather than forcing our methodology on them, and that would mean far fewer teachers slamming the door in student’s faces with or without realizing it.
Some media from the first week of regular (twice!) commuting:
A tiger’s eye view of the ride in to work. About 4°C and a bit damp. That afternoon was up to 12°C and I comfortably took the long way home. Both videos use the high speed video capture option within the Fly360 (long motorcycle videos are tedious):
Photos and video screen grabs from the rides all on the 360Fly4k – great resolution but it isn’t really a 360° camera like the Ricoh Theta is with a large blank area around the base. If you mount it facing up it doesn’t see the bike. The photo on the left shows the full range of view – if it was a true 360°view you’d see where the bike was going too. The Theta stitches two of those globes together giving you a true 360° capture. It’s also much smaller and easier to clip onto a motorbike. Having a physical button to take photos and move between video and photo mode while on the go is also helpful. The Fly can only be operated through your smartphone, which isn’t possible while in motion (well, I guess it is, but you’ll probably end up wrapped around a tree and the copper who sees you with a phone in your hand will loose his mind).
Editing is a whole other thing. I find the 360 Director software buggy at best. PoV in camera editing doesn’t seem to pick up when you ask it to render. I can get it to go about one third of the time. The resolution of the Fly is excellent, and it does an ok job in low light considering that it isn’t really designed for it. The Fly is also weather proof, so you’re not worrying about the odd drop of rain like I did with the Theta.
The long and the short of it is, if you’re looking for resolution and clarity, the Fly’s your choice, just be prepared to stick it in some strange places because it can’t see everything. If you want ease of editing in a small camera with true 360° video and photography, the Theta’s where you should go.
These are all taken with it suctioned to the inside of the windshield and pointed back at me…
I’ve often been at odds with how new media makes its billions. People self-identify with new media like nothing else because it is such an intimate part of their lives. The hardware is always at hand and the software makes personal demands on our information and our time that would have felt foreign and invasive twenty years ago, but like a frog being slowly brought to a boil, we haven’t noticed how it’s killing us.
We suddenly feel time compressed like never before because we have become a commodity in an always on attention culture. The tech giants feeding from this frenzy that they have created present themselves as saviours of the people, democratizing media and making the world a better place:
If you ever want a brilliant parody of the bizarre nature
of our digital revolution, you really need to watch Silicon Valley
Yet there is a change in how we are relating to the strange new mediascape we find ourselves in. Facts are no longer facts and the tech companies enabling this, up until recently, were willfully unaware of how damaging that can be, though more than happy to make advertising revenue from it.
The hand wringing helplessness felt over this epidemic of fake news always struck me as odd, like an alcoholic wondering why everything is going to shit when the answer if obvious (it’s the alcohol). Yet the vendors of our hangover kept it paying off until the damage was done.
This was brought into sharp focus for me after reading this article by WIRED. It tells the story of disenfranchised teens in a former Soviet Bloc state who found a way to make silly money by aggregating fake news. Google, Facebook and others were only too happy to make a mint from this process in advertising revenue. By leveraging the information collection platforms (aka ‘social’ media) they have created to produce targeted ads, these new media advertisers found an avenue for stale marketing budgets. Companies flooded in to Google, Facebook and the rest, desperate to tap a younger demographic unreachable through traditional media. But social media companies offered something more than just the vaunted Millennial crowd, they also offered targeted advertising.
You don’t get Gmail, or Facebook Messenger or any of these other complex, expensive services for free. You get them because they are constantly mining your data and using that information to target ads. Social media companies ARE advertising companies. How powerful is this technology? Last year Facebook made six billion dollars more than the largest advertising agency in the world. Google made tens of billions more.
Google, Facebook and social media itself is now the largest advertising system on the planet.
That some shifty Macedonian teens made a bit on the side is really an afterthought. What should strike you as most illuminating is that the multi-nationals driving social media were more than happy to make millions from obviously false and plagiarized information that was dressed up as news. If you think this didn’t have any effect, look to the damage done to one of the oldest democracies on the planet.
Google stopped cashing in on fake news when people complained,
not before, and the people who lost money on it were the website
owners, not Google, they kept every penny.
By aggregating bonkers right wing fiction into easily consumable content (usually by stealing it outright and dressing it up as news), those kids made years of salary in a month, but what are pennies on the dollar compared to the profit social media advertisers pocketed? Google and others were not only making a fortune off the fake news epidemic, they themselves were the cause of it, using their customer data collection systems to feed lies back to the people who most wanted to read them.
It wasn’t until the flaming mess of the US election that anyone stopped to consider what the ramifications of this approach were. These tech companies love to claim the moral high ground, but their highest ideals take a back seat to greed. Perhaps Google needs to try a bit harder with it’s motto of ‘don’t be evil’.
I’ve struggled with how these companies have insinuated themselves into education, branding teachers and even information itself with their logo. Looking over nearly seven years of Dusty World I can see myself slipping from a technology evangelist into an increasingly uncomfortable relationship with these companies. As they’ve become richer and more influential, their ability to make decisions based on the public’s best interests seems to have steadily deteriorated. Nowhere is this more apparent than this latest social hack: design a system that feeds lies to the people who most want to believe them, and then make a profit from it. They’re making it mighty difficult to like them, let alone admire them.
Meanwhile Britain Brexits and the US government can best be described as a maelstrom. At least some poor kids in Macedonia made a bit of money in a world were it’s usually the super rich who make something from nothing. Maybe social media systems are blameless in all of this. After all, they only give us what we want. If we’re too stupid to educate ourselves, perhaps it’s what we deserve. Is it still propaganda if we’re doing it to ourselves?
This provocative article was shared on Facebook recently. Teachers sharing and talking about education during March Break, I know, crazy, right?
There is an technologist slant to this article that, like everything else people do in the age of information, reduces complex human interaction into a simplistic informational exchange. We fall into this trap in every age we live in. When society was church based we defined ourselves as souls and saw ourselves as intangible spirits in a material world. When we industrialized people started to see themselves as machines. In the information age, unsurprisingly, we treat ourselves like computational nodes in a network. We always seem trapped in our sense of self by the reflection our society casts casts back at us. In every case we’re taking what we are and reducing it to the limitations of the flawed technology we are producing.
By forcing our definition of people to fit the technology at hand we make humans an integral and exploitable part of that technology. If you can reduce complex human social interaction into simplistic social media exchange and centralize the profits from those interactions you’ve made a fortune. The same companies doing this do everything possible to avoid paying taxes to support the societies providing that data. This is one of the best examples of business leaching off society (other than the stock market itself) that I can imagine.
The fortune to be made reducing students to data is often dressed up under the guise of happier more engaged children, but in my experience the self directed learning suggested by the author of this article is neither efficient nor particularly engaging. Self directed learning requires the kind of focus, self discipline and appreciation of future benefit that most children are incapable of because they haven’t developed that bit of their brains yet.
Many adults are equally stymied by self-direction. For most, getting into a directed course of action means happily surrendering free will in order to work out of habit. This a much less stressful way to live a life. Developing routines and sticking to them means you get to off-load responsibility for the outcomes of those routines onto the people or devices that manage them. Being able to complain about this while taking no responsibility for what is happening (you’re a helpless cog in the system) is one of the most cathartic things your typical human being does in modern society. Schools are a favorite target of the lazy or aimless; an easy institution to hate because they are trying to develop you into a more fully functioning human being against your every effort.
The brave new world of self directed child geniuses being monitored by cheap, non-professional facilitators that require no special training get a lot of neo-liberals excited about the cheap and engaging de-institutionalized future of education. In the coming age of machine intelligence computers will do all of the thinking and management. Human beings won’t have to do anything more than assimilate with those machines… and complain about them.
Perhaps this writer has a point. In 20 years when AIs are doing the jobs of most of the non-specialized workforce, why waste money educating them? Students can go to school and perform the same mind numbing habitual activities they do at home. Once we’ve achieved this nirvana we will have taken the final step toward becoming nothing more than the technology we create.
I’ve had a Structure Sensor for a couple of years now. They keep updating the software and firmware and improving the detail capture of the device. After the last round of updates I spent some time in the garage while it’s -20°C and snowing outside in March to test out that new detail. You get all the Structure software with the scanner, but you can also use third party apps to operate the device. Itseez3d is one of those apps, but I always found it quite buggy. That all seems to be behind it with the latest update.
naked concours: Scan of the Concours in the garage using Itseez3d and the Structure Sensor by timking17 click on it to open, then you can scroll in to zoom and drag to move it around on Sketchfab
The model above is on Sketchfab, but itseez3d is doing something like it on its own website. The detail seems similar on both. I’d never been able to get a stable large scale model out of itseez3d before, I could this time. The level of detail and how well it paints the surface of the model using the ipad’s camera to catch colour and texture is impressive. The pictures on the left are the Tiger inside and out as a model on the itseez3d site.
Even with the Structure software I’m finding that the quality of detail in the 3d models the scanner produces are always improving. A boxed capture of the front section of the Tiger was a way of working close enough to take in a lot of compound curves and mechanical parts to see how well the Structure sensors lasers could feel out those details. It’s producing smoother, more accurate models than ever.
I came across this excellent article by the Harvard Business Review about how trust relates to productivity in business. It turns out trust goes a long way towards creating a productive learning environment with students as well. Trust doesn’t end in the classroom though. Between teachers in a building, across entire school boards and in the education system in Ontario as a whole, trust is the cement that turns us from individuals into powerfully focusedl groups. After reading that article I couldn’t help but wonder at the damage done by the aggressive politics that drive out of date and combative management practices in education.
This week we were handed a remedy for a court case won by teacher’s unions in Ontario. In 2012 the Ontario provincial government decided to ignore the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms and deny the right to strike and force a contract on teachers in the province because bankers had tanked the world economy a few years before and the government’s way to fix that was to vilify and then bleed public employees dry.
You couldn’t pick a finer example of broken trust within an organization. After a miserable late 1990s under a tea party style conservative government that was bound and determined to diminish the teaching profession in Ontario, the Liberal party was ushered in and a decade of rebuilding occurred. In that time Ontario shot up the ranks in terms of world education. Suddenly, in 2012, in a desperate attempt to garner conservative votes the Liberal party chose to ignore the Canadian Charter – the document at the foundation of our democratic rule of law – and force a contract on teachers, just to move some money around on ledgers so it appeared that they were more fiscally conservative. The strips to sick days actually cost Ontario more even before the government lost the court case and had to pay restitution. It was a case of desperate and illegal law making and profound mismanagement. The people responsible have never apologized. If your boss did that would you trust them?
Since then trust has been thin on the ground in Ontario’s education sector, yet this article on trust goes to great lengths to underscore how important it is to create a transparent, consistent and reasonable relationship between members within an organization:
“Employees in high-trust organizations are more productive, have more energy, collaborate better, suffer less chronic stress & are happier – these factors fuel stronger performance”
Having worked in the private sector for fifteen years before coming a teacher, I’m often surprised at how unenlightened management practices in education are. Perhaps it’s simply a byproduct of being managed by politics rather than productivity. In any case, the mismanagement of Ontario’s education system over the past few years is neither cheap, nor productive.
I’ve worked for my current employer for over ten years. In that time I only ever asked for a single exception to being expected to come in to work every day. In 2012 my mother committed suicide. I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown as a result but was expected to be in class teaching volatile teenagers. I went to my principal and asked for help. She called HR for me to navigate the process but we were told by a senior manager, “we have people at work who have had a heart attack and have cancer, what makes you so special?” I went back to work with images of mopping my mother’s remains off the floor still floating before my eyes. Can you imagine my level of trust since then?
This month I just got back from surgery. I went back to work 2 days before I should have because we are only allowed 3 days off before needing to contact HR – something I wasn’t going to do. I’d lost so much blood due to this surgery (sinuses, it isn’t a nice one) that I passed out at the end of the school day while stacking chairs in my classroom. I woke up on the floor in a puddle of blood, cleaned myself up and went home and called in sick again. Damaged trust isn’t easily forgotten and can put people in ridiculous situations that need not occur.
Trust looks wish-washy from a conservative mind-set, but it’s actually a fiscally powerful incentive.
Mismanagement has a trickle down effect. Board level administration is required to support and enable Ministry dictates, no matter how politically arbitrary, damaging to learning or asinine. School level administration ends up in a frictional relationship with their teachers as a result of this trickle down distrust. The end result is that people tend to duck and cover. It’s difficult to get people to raise their heads out of their classrooms and collaborate on anything because they doubt the veracity of the people who manage them.
“when people intentionally build social ties at work, their performance improves. A Google study similarly found that managers who “express interest in and concern for team members’ success and personal well-being” outperform others in the quality and quantity of their work.”
Trust creates a bond between teacher and student and student and peer. Knowing you’re working with someone who has your best interests are at the centre of what they do makes learning more effective. A teacher who students can’t trust is a poor teacher. Students don’t know what to expect or what is expected from them. A teacher who surprises students with tests, sometimes on material not comprehensively covered in class, is a teacher students shy away from. For the rest of us who are trying to establish a trust relationship with our students in order to empower their learning, these teachers are a cancer on the profession.
When you think about your favorite teacher I doubt it’s because they gave you a high mark, or because they were hard to figure out. Teachers that enable us are honest, direct and help us to exceed our own expectations of ourselves. Trust isn’t a nice idea in those cases, it is the foundation of the entire process. After reading that article, I now realize that trust is actually a mechanical process hard wired into how humans think; it’s the mechanism that makes us so socially powerful.
Enabled, energized people in an organization, be it a board of education or a classroom, want to engage. Engagement is a big buzz word in education right now. It occurs in high trust organizations naturally. If it isn’t happening in your school or classroom look to how you are developing trust to see why it isn’t happening. Demanding engagement is a sure way not to generate any.
“Once employees have been trained, allow them, whenever possible, to manage people and execute projects in their own way. Being trusted to figure things out is a big motivator: A 2014 Citigroup and LinkedIn survey found that nearly half of employees would give up a 20% raise for greater control over how they work.”
I’m at my best in a classroom when I’m able to define goals, ensure students have fundamental skills in place and then give them the time, space, equipment and positive encouragement to figure it out for themselves. This light-handed approach means that when they get something to work they feel that they’ve figured it out themselves. This is very empowering. Another benefit of this light handed approach is that I’m not so focused on talking at everyone that I’m able to see what individual students need to move forward. I’m happiest when a student learns things they weren’t able to do before and feel that they did it themselves. I know I’m important to the process, but students need to feel engaged and enabled in order to own their learning. Trust powers that process.
My school and board is at its best when we have clear, tangible goals and decisions are made transparently and rationally. The more this happens, the more effective these institutions become as places of learning, and the more I trust the people who are leading me. When I trust my leader there is little I won’t do for them because I feel that we’re all working toward the same goal.
Much of this article drills into the neuro-science of trust. We are social animals hard wired to use trust as a means of working effectively together. If we want to best make use of our powerful social habits, building trust is where we should be concentrating our efforts, especially within the entire educational apparatus.