Early in my teaching career, I was on a Technology Committee which met once a month to discuss ways to integrate technology into our curriculum. At the time, our school was slightly behind the curve in terms of tech, so many of our meetings were discussions about what to bring in and how to get the faculty up to speed on it.
It was the first time I had heard of Smartboards, and while the sales pitch sounded very appealing, I was concerned that they may have been too much, too soon. After all, we had only recently gotten computers in every classroom (one desktop per teacher; mine broke about a month into the school year, with no word on if/when it was going to get fixed), and money was about as tight as it usually is for smaller schools. Whatever we got had to be something that was going to be put to good use.
I considered myself to be fairly technologically savvy, and I had something of a reputation for it around the school – chiefly because I was one of the few people who how to hook up a DVD player or operate the stage lights in the auditorium. I was concerned that the rest of the faculty would eschew the new tools and stand by what they had known and trusted so far. I've found that people who are not familiar with technology who are introduced to it suddenly have one of two reactions: either they are intimidated by it, or infatuated with it. My position at the time was that in order to keep the faculty from falling into one of these pitfalls, we as a school needed to recognize the difference between essential, useful tools, and distractions. I thought then that the Smartboard would be a distraction. I've since seen Smartboards become very useful and prominent classroom tools, but I stand by what I said at the time – Smartboards weren't what we needed at the time.
The day after the Smartboard meeting, I was preparing a lesson for my Freshman class to illustrate a theme from the novel we were reading at the time, The Catcher in the Rye. In addition to all my usual supplies: attendance log, folders, well-marked up copy of the book, and extra chalk (this was the only school I've known which hadn't switched to whiteboards and dry-erase markers), I had the props I needed (know as “realia” in education to sound less showbiz; to me they'll always be props) to illustrate my lesson: a wicker basket, a deck of playing cards, and a large ball of string.
Um... don't ask.
Could I have done my lesson as effectively with a Smartboard, or at least an overhead projector and a Powerpoint presentation? Most likely. Would I have done so had those resources been available to me? Probably not. I was comfortable doing what I was with the materials I was accustomed to, and was convinced (to the point where I wrote this on a syllabus once) “technology is a tool, but it cannot do the work for you. We should be every bit as comfortable working without technology as with it.” And while I stand by those words to this day, I've found it important that they not be used as an excuse to be intimidated by technology.
The truth was, I wasn't ready to come out of my comfort zone. I was content in doing things the way I had done them before, and resisted change. Unfortunately, that attitude caused me to miss a great deal of innovations which would've made my job a lot easier had I been more willing to embrace them.
As wired as I thought I was in my personal life, as an educator, I was feeling technophobic. I didn't want to take a chance on the new gadget which some committee had said was going to revolutionize teaching, redefine the classroom, or other such hype. I was convinced that they were all distractions, shiny baubles meant to distract teachers until the next bauble came along.
The irony is that while I soaked up new uses for technology in my personal life, I wasn't willing to put that into practice in the classroom. I suspect it was because while I was comfortable experimenting with new gadgets at home, where failure means nothing but an hour going through a user's manual, I didn't want to take the chances in the classroom, where I was afraid anything going wrong would reflect badly on me; hurting my students' education and worse, making me look foolish in front of them.
The thing to remember about the way technology works is that yesterday's “distraction” becomes today's useful tool which becomes tomorrow's necessity. Our students are currently exposed to a level of technology which even our former students didn't have available to them, to say nothing of educators. As that technology shapes every aspect of their lives, it is going to shape their education. As educators, we have an obligation to them to get ourselves, if not a step ahead of the curve, at least on it.
I had a great deal of catching up to do, and at times it felt less like “stepping” out of my comfort zone as taking a flying leap out of it – blindfolded. But it has paid off. My syllabi are online, my students are as likely to get an email from me from my phone as much as from my computer, and I keep track of grades and attendance records online even if the school doesn't have its own dedicated program. Most importantly, all of these tools can quickly become to any teacher who overcomes their shyness around computers and learns the ins and outs of them.
And these are just the basics – there's a great deal of material out there, and it's crucial for educators to constantly push themselves out of their comfort zones, and be aware enough of the tools and resources available to them to decide – based on experience, not the lack of it – what they can use in the classroom. And of course, prepare for the occasional malfunction. I still believe in working with or without technology, which is why my syllabi are online, but I still hand out hard copy. The school has a web-based grading system, but I still have a grade book. And where I used to keep extra chalk, I have a couple of spare dry-erase markers.
Because you never know.
No comments:
Post a Comment