Andrea

Andrea R

**Final Reflections: Technology for Learners **

I am a newbie, a novice, a freshly plucked from the ranks, sometimes flies-by-the-seat-of-her-pants, sort of teacher. Please excuse this grammatically challenged description of my first-year teaching experience, colorfully depicting those moments when I felt I knew nothing, but evidently knew everything in the eyes of my 17 eager and precocious five year-olds. Case in point: I used to scrutinize my lesson plans, only to find that my students’ insatiable curiosity would drastically alter the direction, pace, and scope of my instruction. Imagine how unnerving this must be for a “typical” first-year teacher. Try compounding said reality with the perfectionistic tendencies of a head-strong, Type A, overly scheduled, list-maker aficionado and you’ve got me: an educator who is just beginning to scratch the surface of this dynamic profession. As one might suspect, the initial prospect of integrating technology with an already unpredictable classroom dynamic was overwhelming, given that I lacked any formal training in the realm of instructional technology and had few, if any, resources with which to access.

 Just as many other educators have attested, my teacher preparatory program did not include formal instruction regarding the successful integration of technology. Aside from our departmental laboratory (if you could call it that…), equipped with an ancient computer, copy machine, and black and white laser printer, our program was unable to outfit us with any digital devices. Certainly, limited funding contributed to this deficit, along with stringent curricular guidelines imposed by the state certification bureau minimizing the scope of our program, yet I question whether it was the unfamiliarity or discomfort expressed by my professors regarding the most basic forms of technology, that ultimately restricted our exposure. By no means do I wish to discredit the reputation of my alma mater, but I do think it is worthwhile to note that technology can provoke anxiety, resulting in some teachers’ refusal to even consider its potential benefits. I am reluctant to admit this, but I //may// have fallen into the aforementioned category. I so vividly remember arriving for my first day of student teaching and coming face-to-face with a SmartBoard. My attempts at ignoring “its” presence were useless, given that my cooperating teacher utilized the software multiple times throughout any given day. The crux of my anxiety was the prospect of failure, of making a mistake in front of my toughest critics: sixth grade students, or so I thought. With plenty of encouragement, step-by-step tutorials, and twenty-seven eager and willing troubleshooters, I embarked on a digital revolution. Yes, this may very well be a slight exaggeration…I still became frustrated when the board would not respond to my demands, yet I began to understand the appeal of learning with technology. My students took pride in helping me navigate such unfamiliar terrain while also actively taking part in the learning process. For those two reasons alone, I knew it was time to become a proficient user and consumer of technology.

 Please do not be fooled. Initially, I was hesitant to enroll in EDU 536, given my rather limited technical background. Yet, with a healthy dose of encouragement from Marialice and a recognition that I’d rather learn than live in fear, I pushed past my anxiety. That is, until I arrived for the first day of class and realized that I’d be trading my trusted paper and pencils for blog posts and LiveBinders. By the time I skimmed the syllabus and learned that I would actually have to use technology in my own classroom, I was in full on panic mode. Evidently, I failed to consider that learning //about// technology is synonymous with //using// technology. To better contextualize the root of my apprehension, let me explain that my classroom is the only one in our school with a computer, albeit sans Internet access. So, before I could even tackle our assignments, I needed to 1) secure Internet access, and 2) gain approval from a slightly “tech phobic” administration in order to transition my classroom into the 21st century. Surprisingly, my requests were met with support and curiosity, by both our program directors and parents. Now, came the tricky part: how could I meaningfully engage my young and impressionable students in a conversation about digital citizenship? I knew that it was critical to provide them with tangible experiences that would allow for reflection and inspire rich conversation, yet I questioned the scope of their digital understandings. My assumptions could not have been more inaccurate. Not only were my students well versed in “digital speak,” rattling off iPhone apps, discussing the difference between Kindles and Nooks, and sharing their affinity for text messaging, but they demonstrated that technology is a very natural part of their lives. I am well aware that I work with a population of students whose families have the means to provide them with the most cutting edge devices, but I would argue that this is becoming a reality for many of our students, either at home or in school. For that very reason, it is critical that educators begin to facilitate a dialogue about appropriate digital behavior with the youngest members of our school community. Having arrived at this digital insight, I endeavored to create a digital class book, while simultaneously embedding the tenants of digital etiquette and responsibility in a series of mini lessons.

Literacy plays a significant role in our Transitional Kindergarten classroom, given that students are responsible for writing and illustrating a page for our monthly class books. Already, parents have requested copies of our books to keep as documentation of their children’s progress. While that would be an expensive and lengthy endeavor, I saw great merit in compiling a digital story that each family could keep as a token of their child’s TK experience. Immediately, I began scouring the Internet for possible platforms and came upon LittleBirdTales, a free Web 2.0 application that allows children to record their stories. After piloting the program with a friend’s son, I knew that with a few adaptations, it would suit my five year-olds just perfectly. To allow for an authentic and personalized learning opportunity, I took inspiration from George Ella Lyon’s poem “I am from,” encouraging each of my students to reflect upon the people, experiences, and unique preferences that contribute to their identity. As I had suspected, the students were eager to author their pages, and then record their voices using a built-in microphone. During this time, students began to consider the rules and responsibilities that come with being a member of our digital community, just as there are specific rules we must follow in our classroom, homes, and physical community. With help from Australia’s CyberSmart videos, the TK friends explored concepts such as tolerance, mutual respect, and honest communication. Together, we related these universal themes to our digital story—a compilation of seemingly distinct experiences that contributes to our rich and dynamic community of learners.

To recognize and reward the efforts of my TK authors, I planned a “Red Carpet Premiere” for parents and special friends to attend, where we would debut our newest class book. On the day of our big reveal, I rolled out the red carpet, secured glossy posters to the wall, and positioned a metallic balloon display by the door. Despite my concerted efforts to host a logistically sound event, there was one massive, sweat provoking, heart pounding problem…the Internet refused to cooperate. All of my grievances about the unpredictable and often ill-fated state of technology came flooding back. Here I was praising the utility of technology as it relates to students’ learning outcomes, and I couldn’t get the darn laptop or Wi-Fi to cooperate! Just as I was ready to call off the entire event, a parent rushed into the room, exclaiming, “I got it to work!” Quickly, I distributed a pair of Hollywood star-studded glasses to each of my TK’ers and we assembled onto the red carpet, met by a throng of eagerly awaiting photographers and videographers. Finally, we settled in for the digital story and a short video montage created with Animoto, a simple, yet professional-looking video maker. Parents giggled at the children’s honest and accurate commentary regarding their digital insights, while students took delight in watching themselves on camera and listening to their oral retelling of the class book. Above all else, I will not forget the overwhelming sense of pride that each of my students seemed to exude.

These last few months have been filled with excitement and wonderment, eagerness and satisfaction, as my students and I settled into new and unchartered territory. I credit my (forced) bravery to the unexpected challenges that this class afforded me. With a little bit of creativity and an enthusiastic group of students, I was able to create a more dynamic learning environment that now promotes the acquisition of 21st century skills. Even more importantly, I challenged myself as an educator: I gave myself permission to experiment, to make mistakes, and to then select the applications/ digital devices that best matched my needs. Instead of becoming overwhelmed by the shear of number programs available, I found that it’s best to identify a few that aligned with my curricular objectives, appealed to the technologically illiterate, and promised high student engagement. LiveBinders proved to be an excellent resource as it now houses all of my newly acquired websites, programs, and tutorials, in a simple, yet organized format. In the coming weeks and months, I will be able to reference these applications with the utmost ease. Is this not what all teachers hunger for in the wake of testing mandates, chaotic mornings/afternoons/evenings, and, at times, disinterested students? That which is easy (and FREE) is the way to be!

 Perhaps this may sound overly simplistic, but I learned that technology is something that need not be feared. I misjudged the entire face of our digital society, assuming that the majority of its subsidiaries would result in nothing more than chaos, complexity, and expense. To the contrary, I found that much of technology actually appeals to my highly organized, left-brained way of thinking. For example, I love my new Diigio account that now catalogues research citations, recipes, and future lesson plans. Pinterest has become my newest obsession—my favorite take on social media—as I get to borrow and share ideas with fellow educators. I have begun following and posting on other teachers’ blogs; a late night activity that I find to be highly relaxing and informative, given that us teachers face many of the same challenges and triumphs. I downloaded and played with Triptico, marveled at the ease and spunk of Glogster, and tried my hand at several*FREE* science experiment, courtesy of Steve Spangler’s weekly email. In other words, I didn’t have to do a lot, in order to get great results. Some teachers, given unlimited resources, might opt to do a complete overhaul of their instructional approach, embracing technology in all of its forms. I doubt that I would take that route, seeing as certain skills and/ or facets of the curriculum are not as amendable to technology. Likewise, students vary in their receptiveness towards technology, so I endeavor to provide various learning modalities that appeal to a wide variety of students’ needs and preferences. With that being said, technology has the potential to reach a population of students who may have previously struggled in the classroom.

I have come to the conclusion that technology is really what you make of it. It’s not just about having access to a SmartBoard or an iPad. Instead, it’s about using technology in a purposeful and intentional manner to inspire curiosity, encourage ownership of student learning, and appropriately differentiate instruction based on content, process, or product. My pedagogy is firmly rooted in constructivist practices, so the successful integration of technology allows me to grow as a practitioner while also teaching my students the tenants of digital citizenship; the wherewithal essential to navigate the blurred boundaries of our physical and digital community. Communication, the underpinning of any successful relationship, has profoundly changed. No longer does physical location determine correspondence as we now can announce our whereabouts’ via 4 Square, post intimate details on Facebook, and publish minute-by-minute updates on Twitter. Unfortunately, it has become that much more challenging to participate in our digital society given that the barrier of a screen provides only an artificial sense of security—the words and pictures we share can have lasting effects. Having entered this profession with the lofty and idealistic goal of transforming learning, it is my responsibility to equip students with the skills and knowledge necessary to be successful participants in a now dual society. Thank you Nicole for introducing me to some incredible resources that have become a part of my teaching repertoire, and thank you to my fellow teachers who have provided tremendous insight into the practice and implementation of instructional technology.