Big Rock (Beer? Candy Mountain? Yes to both, please!)

To be perfectly honest, this course has been a complete blur. I started a new job as an ESL instructor just as the course began. I have found myself constantly scrambling just to try to barely keep pace with everything as we have gone along. This has been an incredibly frustrating experience for me, because I vastly prefer to be completely on top of things.

In a way, this experience is a metaphor for everything we have been reading, doing, and thinking about. In the same way that the course has presented huge streams of data, seeming to move at an incredible pace, so goes the world of "integrating educational technology". The pace of change--in educational theory, technological development, and everything surrounding them--is dizzying. The sheer volume of information is daunting, and growing exponentially. Links lead to more links, and a person can get overwhelmed rather quickly!

Meanwhile, we've been doing all of this through a brand-new platform (D2L, replacing Blackboard) within an environment which didn't even exist a few short years ago (online education). So we've been functioning "within" technology, even as we have been discussing its place and role in education. We have experienced both the power and shortcomings/limitations of this mode of learning as it is presently understood and constructed.

Furthermore, we've dabbled with a few other forms of technology--not the least of them being these blogs themselves. I have mixed feelings about the use of blogs as "technological tools in education". These feelings come both from this experience as well as my own efforts to "use" them as a teacher. First, blogging is generally thought of as a personal undertaking. There seems to be something "forced" and "unnatural" about "using" them as educational tools--especially when they are to be written more formally (with citations, etc) than personally/naturally. Second, this "artificial" use of blogs seems to fail where blogs are supposed to succeed--i.e., in their "interactivity".

Both here and with my own attempts to use blogs as a tool, I have found that the "dialogue" blogs theoretically encourage doesn't really materialize. When people choose to read, follow, and comment on blogs because of personal interest, the dialogue/conversation happens naturally and organically. When people are required to write and respond to blogs, the process is artificial, and loses the very naturalness and authenticity that defines the medium. Even though I have my students do personal writing, it is still an artificially-created entity, and invariably falls flat.

We have also dabbled with Twitter. I have already written extensively about some of my thoughts with respect to this undertaking. What I have just written about blogging also holds true for my thoughts and experiences with the Twitter project. But even more than that, I have found that I have had one other significant issue. Twitter is, by definition and practice, a "social" medium. It is a platform which I have previously used purely for personal, recreational interaction. Again, forcing it to become a "work-related" platform has been a frustrating experience.

At first, I tried to integrate it into my "normal" Twitter account. I found that so unsatisfactory that I felt compelled to create a separate "work" account. But logging into and using it was "work". I found that I deeply resented this intrusion into a medium which had previously been purely for fun. This made me think of a much bigger issue--the "creep" of work into every moment of our lives. We are all now constantly "on the clock". We check our work email--and often end up working as a result--at all hours of day and night. This is disturbing and unacceptable. We cannot allow "work" to permeate our entire existences. There are times and places (both physical and virtual) which must remain sacrosanct.

Ultimately, then, I have mixed feelings about "integrating educational technology". Perhaps it boils down to a matter of design or intended use. Technology which is designed or intended to be "educational" or used for educational purposes (LinoIt being a great example) functions beautifully. But attempts to fold, bend, or mutilate technology which was not designed or intended for education seem much less successful. It is laudable that educators are trying to be creative and interested in technology. But where I find educators sometimes rather overeager and somewhat naive is in the area of the "philosophy of technology"--understanding technology from the inside out; understanding how its design is both intentional and limiting.

I have absolutely no doubt whatsoever that "technology" is driving a revolution at least as massive as the invention of the printing press and the Industrial Revolution. The technological revolution has profound impacts for absolutely every aspect of society--including education. Everyone involved with education--academics, policy makers, administrators, teachers, and all other stakeholders--must do everything humanly possible to truly understand the technological revolution and ensure that the education system is fully integrated within it.

And that is my final point and "takeaway" from this course. So far, we have it backwards. It is not a matter of integrating technology into education, but rather one of integrating education into technology--into an entirely new social paradigm. Rather than trying to shoehorn bits and pieces of technology into the world of education as we know it, we need to imagine an entirely new world of education, and how it can integrate seamlessly within the technological revolution.

More thoughts about Twitter

Yesterday (November 22), there was a two-page article in the Globe and Mail about Twitter. The company's new goal is to become a major player in the world of "big data". As the article says, "every Twitter user is a data geyser". There's not a word about educational use of the platform--or any of the other supposed social benefits of Twitter (the apocryphal "role" it has supposedly played in the "Arab Spring" and so on). Twitter sees users as nothing more or less than data points/streams to be commodified.

Twitter has always thought of itself--and tried to function--as a "global water cooler"; the place where you talk about your favorite TV show, sports team, and so on. It still seems to function as such, but Twitter apparently faces a growing divergence between veteran, "hard-core" users and their more recent, casual counterparts. Such a bifurcation doesn't bode well for Twitter as a "conversational" medium. It suggests that it may well become more of broadcast/consumption platform, in which most users are passive consumers of content produced by a small minority of producers, with Twitter as the classic middleman or "entrepreneur" (from the French for "enterprise", but more specifically "entre" (between) + "preneur" (getter)--the classic bourgeois middleman inserting himself between producer and consumer), making money by selling users (and their data) to advertisers.

Twitter now has a clearly defined business model, which is unmistakably moving away from individual users and toward advertisers and developers. This would suggest that senior leadership at Twitter cares not a single iota about the social and interpersonal aspects of the medium. Senior leadership isn't interested in how people use Twitter. They make absolutely no mention of the supposed human dimension of the medium--be it social, political, educational, or anything else. They're not interested in the functionality of the platform. All they're interested in is mining and selling data.

To me, this suggests that Twitter is anything but socially conscious. In fact, it is quite the contrary--yet another threat to personal privacy--if such a notion even exists or matters any more. Every time anyone uses Twitter--no matter what they may THINK they're using it for, they are simply becoming a more and more accurately refined data point/stream, to be packaged and sold.

The Curated Life in a Mean World

I continue to think very hard about social media, and whether they truly have a place in education, now or in the future. I keep trying to be persuaded by all the arguments which seem to think they do, but I still can't convince myself.

I was very interested to read "The Enlightenment Meets Twitter" (Krutka & Milton, 2013). I have, for some time, followed several Twitter accounts such as "Real Time WW II Tweets", "Samuel Pepys", and so on. A couple of years ago, as the result of a residency ("In(ter)ventions: Literary Practice at the Edge") at the Banff Centre in their Literary Arts department, I almost embarked on a Twitter-based experimental literature/performance art project myself. (The basis of the idea was to tweet the entirely of "Don Quixote" exactly 140 characters at a time, and then to engage in a variety of "meta" practices around this "quixotic" endeavour. It never got off the ground, even though I'm still fascinated by the potential of the project.)

Most of these accounts are, in fact, some sort of "conceptual art" project. They not only produce tweets, but they interrogate Twitter as a medium. They themselves ask questions about Twitter, and implicitly invite followers to do the same. For example, the Samuel Pepys account is an exploration of transposing/transferring Pepys' famous diary entries into/onto the Twitter platform. Pepys was an incredible and inveterate diarist. Many of his diary entries were essentially 17th Century "tweets". In transposing his (anachronistic) diary entries into tweets, the project invites followers/readers to contemplate Twitter as the modern equivalent of a diary. The project does not "pretend to be Pepys". It does not answer questions in character. It simply posts diary entries as tweets, on the same day of the calendar as they were originally written.

I tremendously enjoy following the account--even occasionally retweeting some of the tweets, which can sometimes seem remarkably apropos across the centuries! But the account constantly reminds of what Twitter is. It is, and always will be, a microblogging platform. It is indeed in many ways the modern equivalent of the diary--nothing more, and nothing less.

Twitter CAN be an interesting platform to explore in various artistic ways--like the Pepys account. There have been many conceptual art projects which have explored and interrogated the medium. But I continue to struggle with attempts to make it into something it isn't by nature--to "use" it for a variety of purposes--"commercial", "educational", or otherwise. They all seem forced and contrived, and never fully successful.

The project described in "The Enlightenment Meets Twitter" is a case in point. While there is much that is laudable about the project, it ultimately fails, in my opinion. Having students adopt the "persona" of historical figures on Twitter is highly problematic to me. I suppose I can see some educational benefits to the students, but I have profound issues with making these accounts public--at least without some sort of clear indication on the accounts that they were indeed student projects. They raise fascinating issues about online identity construction, but they remain problematic to me.

What I actually find quite fascinating about social media is their curatorial nature. People cultivate and tend to their Twitter, Facebook, and especially Vine and Instragram accounts in an attempt to curate personal collections--virtual "cabinets of wonder". For an interesting discussion of this, see Alexandra Molotrow's recent article in in Globe and Mail.

Just a few days ago, columnist Andrew Coyne, who had been a heavy Twitter user, abruptly announced he was "quitting" Twitter and deleted his account. It made national news. Part of his reasoning was the "meanness" of Twitter, other social media, and the internet in general (such as "comments" sections, let alone the vile murk of various corners of Reddit and 4Chan). Utopian rhetoric about social media invariably ignores this profound reality. For every Arab Spring, there are countless FHRITPs. More and more people are doing just as Coyne has done, and quitting social media entirely, increasingly citing "Mean World Syndrome".

Social media are just that--media which exist for social interaction. No amount of wishful thinking can or will force these square pegs into roundish holes for which they were not designed, created, or intended. The world is littered with failed attempts to create "social media for the workplace" (Yammer, anyone?), "social media for education" (Edmodo?), and so on. They're always marketed as "Facebook for work", "Twitter for school", and so on. But they never really work. Facebook is for Facebook. Twitter is for Twitter. Blogs (even such as these) are for blogging--personal writing and expression, not academics. They're all "curated diaries" in an increasingly mean online world.

I have tried to "use" various social media for purposes for which they were never intended in my own education practice. These efforts have always been glorious failures, for precisely those structural reasons. The only true success I have had (thus far) is with blogs. I encourage/require my students to write personal thoughts, reflections, and observations on their blogs. I don't impose academic rules, regulations, or expectations. I just ask them to write, and to read and comment on each others' blogs. This works well, precisely because it uses the platform not only for something familiar, but for the purpose for which it was designed.

Reference: Krutka, D & Milton, M. (2013). The Enlightment Meets Twitter: Using Social Media in the Social Studies Classroom. Ohio Social Studies Review, vol. 50, #2, pp. 22-29. Retrieved from https://www.academia.edu/5231710/The_Enlightenment_meets_Twitter_Using_social_media_in_the_social_studies_classroom

Catch a Wave and You're Sittin' on Top of the World

It's really quite remarkable how the notion of "catching a wave" has passed from the tiny world of surf culture (as captured in the lyrics of the Beach Boys song "Catch a Wave", referenced in the title of this post) into common usage. But it is indeed a very apt metaphor. In order to successfully surf a wave, you have to catch at at just the right moment. Not only can you be too late, but equally importantly, you can be too early.

Trying to catch "the wave" of social and technological change is virtually impossible. It's akin to trying to time the stock market. The pace of change is dizzying, many "next big things" turn out to be duds, and things that are dismissed as trivial turn out to become wildly successful. I have already blogged about the folly and futility of trying to predict the future. Now I'm proposing to argue that it is just as impossible to truly comprehend the present.

There are many claims that we live in a "post-industrial age". But do we really? Yes, many western economies seem to be moving away from industrialism and manufacturing to some other form of economic activity ("service" economies actually being more economically significant than "knowledge" economies). But the global economy is actually still heavily predicated on industrialism--the manufacturing and consumption of "hard goods". They're just being manufactured in places that are more economically advantageous for global capitalism and being shipped around the world because our current carbon economy makes shipping ridiculously cheap, and the combination of manufacturing in a location where labour is cheap (expendable, even) plus shipping is still economically "better" than manufacturing in locations where labour is more expensive.

So do the massive bodies of literature making recommendations as to what we should do in the supposed post-industrial age really hold true? Do they truly understand present reality? I am increasingly doubtful/skeptical that they actually do.

What I find fascinating about the article "Catching the Knowledge Wave: Redefining Knowledge for the Post-Industrial Age" (Gilbert, 2007) is in fact it's deep reliance on the past to make its argument. The absolute foundation of the article's entire argument is the work of Jean-Francois Lyotard, which dates from the 1970s--30 years prior to the publication of the article and almost 40 years prior to today. That's verging on being half a century old!

Another of the readings suggests that the concept of the "Knowledge Age" or "Knowledge Society" itself is outdated, arguing instead that we have already passed through this stage and should be preparing for the "Creative Age" or "Creative Society" (sadly, I can't seem to put my finger on the specific article at the moment).

Gilbert's article is, in fact, largely a work of history. It examines the origins of the concept of the "Knowledge Society". It examines the history of schooling. It postulates or proposes a future, and then creates some proposals to suit that postulate. But this aspect of the article is entirely speculative. Only the historical aspects of the article have any great degree of certitude.

It is now common or received wisdom to suggest that those who do not learn from history are condemned to repeat it. This is, of course, absolutely true. But perhaps it is only history--the past--which we can truly understand. Trying to predict the future--especially in such a time of profound change--is virtually impossible. And perhaps even truly understanding the present is just as impossible.

So what, then, are the implications for education and educators? Can we truly try to mold something as massive and unwieldy as the social structure/system of "education" for some speculative future? It certainly seems that we have come to grips with its history, and have recognized that we do not wish to repeat the past. But how can we possibly create the future, when even the past is profoundly uncertain and, I would argue, not fully understood?

I don't mean to be glib--quite the contrary. I am increasingly unsure about not only what to do for the future, but even what questions to ask about the present!

Reference: Gilbert, J. (2007). Catching the Knowledge Wave: Redefining Knowledge in the Post-Industrial Age. Retrieved from:http://www.cea-ace.ca/sites/cea-ace.ca/files/EdCan-2007-v47-n3-Gilbert.pdf

"Recombinant" Education

I found the Week 4 materials (and activity) particularly interesting and thought-provoking. Predicting the future, as we all know, is often a fool's errand or a mug's game. All we have to do is look at the history of "futurism". Various World Fairs have boldly predicted "the world of tomorrow". Disney had Tomorrowland--which evolved into "New Tomorrowland", a retrospective look at futurism. We rarely get it right when we try to predict the future of anything--but we can't resist trying. It's the nature of our species.

There is plenty to unpack simply in the title of the Knowledge Works 3.0 document, "Recombinant Education: Regenerating the Learning Ecosystem" (KnowledgeWorks, 2012). First of all, the document uses the software version convention (3.0). This suggests that it is the third "major release" of the document, which in turn suggests that the document is an iterative process, rather than a finished product. The software version convention suggests that minor "tweaks" and "bug fixes" receive a designation following the point (2.1, 2.2, etc). Only major overhauls receive a new designation before the point. One must, therefore, assume that version 3.0 is a major overhaul from version 2.x.

The use of the term "recombinant" suggests a deliberate borrowing from the world of genetics. Recombinant DNA (rDNA) is artificially created DNA. It is manufactured in a lab. The term recombinant also suggests or implies genetic modification. Therefore, one must conclude that the report is an artificial creation, perhaps intended to modify the "genetic code" of education.

Sadly, I found the document rather wanting. To me, it suffered from the same afflictions that plague all forms of futurism. They are invariably either deeply utopian or profoundly utopian. This document is clearly the latter. so much of what it blithely proposes as "good" or "beneficial" struck me as profoundly chilling. I also found that it suffered from massive amounts of pseudo-science and "technobabble"--meaningless jargon.

The notion of "democratized startup" and "edupreneurship" (KnowledgeWorks 2012) may sound wonderful on the surface, but there is absolutely no evidence to support the claim. The very notion of "democracy" is actually laughable. The kinds of resources--beginning with simple access to the requisite technological tools--are available only to (upper) middle class learners. There is already a huge "digital divide" which threatens to become only worse. The social/class issues and problems with the report are astonishing.

The idea that "we" will all become independent contractors is also chilling. This is already happening, and causing huge social disruption. Independent contractors have no job security. They typically have no benefits (health care, pension, and so on). This, of course, is tremendously attractive to global capitalism, but comes at equally tremendous human cost. Yet the report completely ignores the social implications in its glowing praise of such a future.

But what I found most disturbing is not only blithe acceptance but outright cheerleading for incredibly invasive data analytics, cognitive prosthetics, automated alerts, invasive neuroscience, and so on. This is flat-out terrifying. The idea of reducing huamn beings to nothing more than data points or streams to be constantly monitored and "optimized" is straight of the most nightmarish science fiction imaginable. The privacy implications alone should be enough to induce sheer terror. Yet the document sees nothing but deliriously positive outcomes from these things.

If this is indeed the future of education, educators, and learners, I personally want no part of any such future!

Reference: KnowledgeWorks (2011). Recombinant Education: Regenerating the Learning Ecosystem. Retrieved from:http://knowledgeworks.org/future-of-learning 

All Atwitter About Twitter

There has been much (virtual) ink spilled in the effusive praise of the "power" of social media in general and Twitter in particular in times of upheaval or "crisis". We certainly saw this again in the recent events in St. Jean sur Richelieu and, especially, Ottawa.

There is no doubt that Twitter, in such times, has the tremendous power of immediacy. We can seemingly know about things virtually in real time. Not only can we read words, but we can see images--still pictures or short video clips. In a culture which gives primacy to sight and visuality ("a picture is worth a thousand words", "seeing is believing", and so on), the combination of immediacy and imagery is powerful stuff, indeed.

I was certainly scrolling through my Twitter feed on the morning of the Ottawa shooting--as were my students (adult ESL learners). It struck me that this was definitely a "teachable moment"! We began to discuss the situation--in real time, as events unfolded, official communication was virtually non-existent, and Twitter feeds updated at a frantic rate.

We noticed several things. The first was the almost irresistible impulse to constantly refresh Twitter--seeking the most recent, the most immediate, the most visceral, even the most graphic, "information". The second was the confusion we all felt. Twitter was immediate, yes, but it had no coherence. It was an endless stream of disjointed and fragmentary information, virtually impossible to keep up with, let alone assemble into any sense of meaningful coherence.

The third was the absence of any seemingly reliable information. This digressed into a tangential discussion about the relationship between "reliable" information and "official" communication. There was virtually no "official" communication forthcoming. My students remarked upon this that morning. This vacuum of official information ended up becoming a "story" in itself--I heard interviews about it on more than one CBC Radio program.

The fourth thing was noticed was erroneous or misleading "information". There were tweets about shots being fired at other locations around Ottawa (Rideau Mall, downtown, etc), which turned out not to be true. Some were "refuted" fairly quickly; others took more time to be disproven. This triggered considerable discussion about the veracity of Twitter among my students.

Ultimately, what was the "power" of Twitter during last week's events? It was not a particularly effective means of interpersonal communication. My sister was in a building which was locked down. I was far more able to communicate with her via text messaging than through a platform such as Twitter.

It was not a source of particularly relevant, meaningful, accurate, or useful information. Anyone looking for useful information (such as what areas were "locked down", meaningful updates on the actual events, and so on) was far better off tuning in to one of the many live media broadcasts. Trying to find useful nuggets of information in the deluge of tweets was akin to looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack.

In the final analysis, Twitter had no real "power" or "magic" last week. Yet it was irresistible. It was irresistible because we all want to know what's happening right now. Everyone thought Twitter might tell them something a few minutes or even a few seconds before it was reported by the media.

I have thought about this many times in the past. The disconnect between some of the utopian rhetoric around Twitter in theory and the perceived banality of it in practice is/was, in fact, the subject of my (now dormant, but hopefully to be revived) art project of exploring Twitter as a medium of communication.

There seems to be a powerful desire for Twitter (and other social media) to be something more than they really are. Social theorists and social activists point to its magical "power" in moments like Ottawa last week. But academic analyses after the fact have all come to the conclusion that this "magic" was in fact illusory. Corporations are all desperately trying to figure out how to have a "social media presence/strategy"--with the obvious motive of trying to make more money. Yet users complain about (and claim to ignore) Facebook advertising and "promoted" tweets. Do we really care what Coke, Tide, or Westjet "say" on social media?

Educators, too, have fallen victim to the siren song of Twitter. Everyone seems to be seeking some sort of utility in it. But i'm truly not sure that there is any such utility--political, commercial, educational, or otherwise.

I am a (fairly heavy) Twitter user. I use it like virtually everyone else does--socially and/or recreationally. This is what Twitter is. Twitter generally explodes during "live events". These could be awards shows, sports events, TV shows (especially those with large "cult" followings), or the "news" (typically celebrity "news", but occasionally more substantive "news"--such as an election, a natural disaster, or an event such as that in Ottawa last week).

All one needs to know about what Twitter is and what it does is to look at the list of "trends" on one's homepage. Twitter is exactly a "social medium"--nothing more, nothing less. It is social. But we cannot make the leap from "social" to more ambitious notions such as "community" (or "politics", or "economics", etc). It is simply a "virtuall water cooler"--a "place" where people engage in small talk, gossip, and exchange tidbits of "news" which may or may not be true.

Try as we might--and people from various corners have been trying for some time now--we cannot force Twitter to become anything other that what it is. Twitter is different from Facebook, to be sure. Twitter is more "outward-looking" whereas Facebook is more insular and inwardly focused. I like to think of Twitter as an extroverted person and Facebook as an introvert. But Twitter offers no "magic" for political causes or events, global capitalism, or education.

Bringing it all back home

With apologies to Bob Dylan for stealing the title, that's exactly where my final thoughts reside. My kids went back to school yesterday (Wednesday, August 13). They attend a school which uses inquiry in everything it does. This literally brought everything we've been doing for the past 6 weeks back home for me. As the teachers were talking with parents at the welcome back event, I heard a lot of familiar language and concepts, and found myself thinking back over this course.

A couple of the teachers have become friends, and as I was chatting with them, they were very interested in what we've been doing in this course. They were also extremely interested in my own interest in redesigning schools, and immediately had some ideas and suggestions, which was incredibly rewarding.

As others have said, it's impossible to encapsulate absolutely every aspect of the incredible amount we've covered in such a short time. I honestly feel that I need a lot more time to think, reflect, and really absorb everything.

I was--to be perfectly frank--somewhat skeptical of the blogging piece of the course, but it has turned out to be perhaps the most valuable piece. Expressing my own thoughts and feelings gives me a fantastically valuable record to refer back to. Reading everyone else's blog reminded me how different responses to the same material can be. The various perspectives were fascinating and incredibly valuable. Responding to the thoughts of others pushed my own thinking further and in different directions. That's definitely one of my most important take-aways.

I think my other biggest take-away is around the area of authenticity. This may well be because it's also an extremely important concept in current approaches in ESL teaching and learning. Making learning "real"--authentic, relevant, meaningful, and connected to learner's lives beyond the classroom walls seems so incredibly important!

Thanks to all for a totally enjoyable experience. I've enjoyed learning with and from everybody in the group. I'm looking forward very much to "seeing" everyone in the future, continuing to share ideas, and working together to transform teaching and learning! All the best to everyone!

Critical Thinking...about assessment.

The Significant Item:

"(W)e believe that thinking critically is a way of engaging in virtually any task that students undertake in school".
"(C)ritical thinking must be seen as a way of teaching the curriculum".
"(C)ritical thinking is a form of teaching, embedded in every aspect of life in the classroom". (Case, 2005(all)).

I found myself nodding in agreement with the Case article than anything else we've looked at over the course, with the possible exception of the Ken Robinson video last week. I'm thoroughly smitten with the idea of critical thinking as a form or method--a way of teaching, rather than a discrete and "often ignored or marginalized" or adjunct skill. I was particularly enamored with the example of the teacher who had her students create their own exam questions (Case, 2005)--everything about it is utterly brilliant!

The idea of critical thinking as a way/form/system of teaching and learning, completely embedded in every aspect of classroom life, obviously draws immediate comparison with inquiry. Obviously, I haven't had massive amounts of time or energy to explore the subject, but I'm truly wondering why critical thinking hasn't captured the collective imagination of the field as inquiry. Could it possibly be an equally (or even more) powerful paradigm for "transforming teaching and learning in a knowledge society"???

Obviously from my raving, I'm inclined to think and argue that it might well be. I have long argued that there are really only a couple of things I hope the educational system provides my children--those being critical thinking, a broad understanding of the world in which they live, and some civics. I'm blessed (and well aware that it is not typical) with two kids who are both "gifted" and voracious readers, so they can and do acquire "content" incredibly quickly and virtually effortlessly. But learning how to think rigorously--how to frame a question, research it, analyze/summarize/critique/synthesize the information they find, and then report/present/justify/defend (verbally, in writing, or in any other appropriate form of communication) their considered findings/conclusions--that takes considerable time to learn and do well, and excellent teaching to facilitate it.

I have tried to teach my children (and their friends, whenever I have the chance!) ever since they could understand the concept to question everything around them; to always ask why things are the way they are (and whether they could be different or better); to never simply accept the status quo; to challenge insufficient "explanations" such as "that's just the way it or" or "that's the way we've always done it". Obviously, this comes very much from who I am (and what I've done professionally--this is precisely how (good) journalists approach everything they encounter). It would be miraculous and utterly wonderful if the educational system did the same thing!

Of course, some might (and have) accuse me of raising "shit disturbers"--but these are the people who make change in the world. I hate to pick yet again on poor old Connect Charter School--as a family we do truly love so much of what it stands for and does--but I will yet again, to illustrate with an example. The school plays the national anthem at the beginning of every day. In a dinner conversation (initiated, I swear, by my child and not me!), my kids and I started thinking critically about the anthem. They quickly had concerns about the invocation of God, the militaristic tone, "what about people for whom it's not their 'home and native land'"?, gender ("all thy sons command"), and so on. They started to wonder about  (unquestioning) "patriotism", and whether it's always a good thing. Then they started wondering why the anthem is played in various contexts. Some (government functions, military ceremonies, and so on) made eminent sense to them. But others such as sporting events made less sense. Inevitably, they turned to school. Playing the anthem was not daily practice at their previous school, and they started to become slightly skeptical or dubious about the practice of doing so at Connect Charter.

I suggested, as innocuously as possible, that they might want to ask teachers and administrators at the school about the practice. Perhaps, I suggested, it might be something they could discuss or explore within the school community. Suffice it to say this particular avenue of critical thinking was not warmly welcomed. They were complimented for their thoughtful inquiries, but any meaningful exploration of the matter was, shall we say, discouraged. They learned an important lesson about social/institutional control and conformity--about which they were able to think critically.

Implications: I will redouble my own efforts to incorporate critical thinking as a way or form of teaching, and strive to embed it as deeply as possible, in my own (adult ESL) practice. I may even try to think of ways to "steal" the idea of having students create their own assessment materials!

Questions/reflection: I will definitely seek out other literature on this fascinating avenue of exploration. Are there schools (or teachers) out there in the big wide world that embed critical thinking or use it as the way they teach the curriculum?

I can't resist one quick comment on the Binkley, et al white paper. I applaud the rigorous, thoughtful, and (overwhelmingly!) comprehensiveness of the 10 skills the authors identify and the extensive "KSAVE" criteria they enumerate within each skill (Binkley, et al, 2010). But I found myself having profound reservations about some of the assessment tools/techniques they explored. I was particularly uncomfortable with the discussion about assessment around collaboration and teamwork. They attempted to draw parallels with the professional world (although I think they had a rather narrow concept of the nature of work) and seemed to endorse tools such as OPQ (Binkley, et al, 2010). It made me extremely uncomfortable to contemplate using such "corporate", "human resources", and "Big Brother-esque" tools to try to assess schoolchildren. It seems, somehow, like a profound invasion of privacy to try to quantify all of these "personality characteristics". It made me envision the most dystopian worlds of science fiction literature and film and is something against which I would fight with all my might if attempts were to be made to introduce it into my own childrens' lives!

CITATIONS:

• Case, R. (2005). Bringing Critical Thinking to the Main Stage. Education Canada, (45)2, pp. 45-49. Retrieved 2014-08-06 from http://tc2.ca/pdf/profresources/Mainstage.pdf
• Binkley, M., Erstad, O., Hereman, J., Raizen, S., Ripley, M., & Rumble, M. (2010). Draft White Paper 1: Defining 21st Century Skills. Assessment and Teaching of 21st Century Skills. Retrieved 2014-08-06 from http://atc21s.org/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/1-Defining-21st-Century-Skills.pdf

Week 5: "Aha" Moments and Dropping Pennies

I've said it before, but I'll say it again: I'm a person who is inexorably drawn to the theoretical/abstract plane. I can't help it--it's just who I am. I am a Myers-Briggs "INTP" through and through. I've done the full, official version of the test several times--and each time the administrators say they've never seen such a "classic" INTP result in their careers.

So why is this relevant? First because I had the biggest "Aha!" moment of the course doing this week's readings. Herrington et al make a passing reference to "constructivist philosophy" in the abstract of their article (Herrington et al, 2003). Woo et al make several references to "social constructivist learning theories", "the theoretical principles of social constructivism" and so on (Woo et al, 2007). Never having heard of these before, I looked them up. Lo and behold, there is a huge volume of information to be assimilated! I've barely begun to scratch the surface, but finally I can see the forest and not just the trees. Finally I have a sense of the epistemological theory/philosophy behind inquiry-based learning--the penny finally dropped! As always, I wish we had started there--but that's just the INTP in me. I can't help who/what I am. I'm just the "oddball" who needs to start with the theoretical before making my into the practical. Suffice it to say I now have a whole lot of additional reading to do!

But I think this also raises some legitimate questions about "inquiry" and "authenticity". We INTPs (and I have every reason to believe my elder son is one as well) are notorious for preferring to work alone rather than as members of a team. We are extreme introverts (being careful to make the distinction between "introversion" and "shyness"--they are NOT the same) who exist "in our own little worlds". We're often (unjustly!) accused of being not only "absent-minded" or "unaware" of people around us but even "arrogant" or "antisocial". (Several US Presidents, including Abe Lincoln, have been categorized as INTPs. So have Charles Darwin, Carl Jung, Rene Descartes, Blaise Pascal, Carl Sagan, Glenn Gould, Marie Curie, and many others. In terms of fictional characters, think of Sherlock Holmes, Greg House MD, Doctor Who, Linus (Peanuts), or Luna Lovegood (Harry Potter).)

I would propose that many on that (very partial) list are people who lived and breathed "inquiry". But INTPs simply do not function well in group/team settings (notice that I have chosen to write an individual paper for this course, rather than work on a team!). Yet while "constructivist learning theory" is supposedly/theoretically acutely aware of the importance of the background, culture, learning styles, and other characteristics of the learner, "inquiry" and "authenticity" are nonetheless relentless in their insistence that "learning" must be social/interactive/collaborative--to the point of running roughshod over that supposed sensitivity to individual qualities/characteristics. Perhaps "social constructivism" is not as respectful/inclusive as it purports to be???

As I've also mentioned previously, my children attend Connect Charter School (CCS) here in Calgary. The school has very close ties with the Galileo Educational Network. CCS is an inquiry-based school. It uses the Galileo rubric. For the most part, I'm delighted with the education my kids are getting at CCS. But I also have some issues. That elder child of mine who I'm sure is also an INTP is sometimes upset about the emphasis on "collaborative learning". One of the few "areas to work on" in his "progress reports" is consistently language around collaboration, social interaction, support for peers, and general "extroversion". He can get quite upset about this when we talk about it, lamenting that it's not fair, they don't understand who he is, and so on. It's like there is a complete blind spot to who he is, in the name and service of a (rigid) deployment of "authentic", "inquiry-based" learning. Perhaps some acknowledgement of different personality types and learning styles could be made? (Apparently not.) (Of course, Susan Cain has spoken and written extensively about the general blindess extroverts have toward introverts and the social pressures on introverts (and INTPs) to "come out of their shells", "participate more fully" and so on--all of which can be incredibly frustrating and infuriating to us introverts! It makes us feel bad, like there's something "wrong" with us, and generally stigmatized, even though we're as legitimate as all the extroverts.)

(Another issue I have is that my kids--who are both classified as "gifted"--don't know their multiplication tables and can't identify all of the provinces and territories of Canada on an unlabelled map. Some things you just have to memorize, it seems to me!)

Another area where the theory and practice of "social constructivist education" (which I think is now my preferred term, rather than "inquiry-based learning") seem to collide is around the issue of cultural sensitivity. In their article on patterns of engagement, Herrington et al discuss the willingness or lack thereof of students to "suspend disbelief" (Herrington et al, 2003). As someone who has studied film and literature, I was quite intrigued by the notion. Yet I found myself thinking about students from different cultural backgrounds as I read their section on "delayed engagement" or the reluctance/discomfort on the part of some students to do this. Their position seemed extremely culturally specific and shockingly culturally insensitive. As someone just starting out as an ESL instructor, working primarily with (young, international) adult learners, the cultural backgrounds and concepts of teaching and learning among my students is something of which I must be acutely aware. The theory of "social constructivist education" seems to suggest that different cultural concepts and expectations need to be respected, but the article seemed to suggest that any reluctance to embrace "the willing suspension of disbelief" was somehow the learners' "fault" (they "have difficulty in changing dependent learning habits", they're "not self-motivated", they're "unhappy when...directed support is withdrawn", they "resist authentic approaches", they're "too exam-oriented", and so on and so on). (Herrington et al, 2003).

Forgive me, but please explain to me again how this is learner-centered and learner-driven?! This kind of shaming/blaming of learners for what may well be culturally-driven and entirely legitimate "discomfort" seems both shocking and shameful to me!

My last observation is, I promise, a brief one. Newmann and Wehlage propose that they want to ascertain "how authentic instruction and student achievement are facilitated or impeded by" several factors. (Newmann & Wehlage, 1993). Granted, they were writing more than 20 years ago, but I found it quite telling/revealing that they didn't mention what to me is a very obvious factor--the physical environment. Sir Ken Robinson's video this week is only the latest instance when we've been reminded that the notion of "school" as a "mechanistic process" or an "industrial production"--what it may have been during the 19th and 20th centuries--is no longer appropriate, if it ever was. But schools are still built to resemble factories! Newmann and Wehlage are entirely typical in being entirely blind to the role the physical environment plays in education; how the physical separation and isolation of schools creates literal as well as metaphorical "barriers" or "walls" between school and the community. One of the participants in the "What is Authentic Education" video even talks explicitly about the need to "break down the walls between the school and the community"--but only means it in the metaphorical sense. The idea of breaking down the actual walls is outside of his frame of reference--his ideology.

When I studied film, we talked about "ideology"--in the Marxist cultural criticism and semiotic senses. "Ideology" is a cultural construct which is so widely and deeply held that it becomes "naturalized". To those within an ideology, that which exists within it seems so entirely natural that it becomes invisible. It's not "just the way it is", it simply is--as if it always has been and always must be. This is how it seems to me that people (don't) "see" schools. They "are" the way they are because "that's how schools are". People glance at something and "see" a "school". The signifiers are so completely naturalized within the ideology in which those people exist that they are utterly transparent and they immediately "see" a "school". But they never stop to actually "look" at the thing and think about why it is the way it is and how it might be different.

Please try it as an exercise--actually look at schools you see, and wonder if they could be architecturally/physically different. How could they be more integrated with the community? How could they be designed and built differently so they're not mechanistic industrial factories, but places for 21st century teaching and learning? (One of the great failings of architects, planners, and policy/decision makers over the years has been their reluctance to listen to the people who actually use the urban environments, buildings, and facilities they design/build/operate. They've gotten better at it in recent years, but still need a push now and then--and as Sir Ken says (quoting Ben Franklin), there are immovable people, movable people, and people who move!)

CITATIONS:

• INTP. (n.d.). Retrieved 2014-08-03 from Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/INTP.
• INTP Personality. (n.d.). Retrieved 2014-08-03 from http://www.16personalities.com/intp-personality.
• Herrington, J., Oliver, R., & Reeves, T.C. (2003). Patterns of engagement in authentic learning environments. Australian Journal of Educational Technology. 19(1), 59-71. Retrieved 2014-08-02 from http://www.ascilite.org.au/ajet/ajet19/herrington.html.
• Woo, Y., Herrington, J., Agostinho, S., & Reeves, T.C. (2007). Implementing Authentic Tasks in Web-Based Learning Environments. Endcause Quarterly. #3, 2007. Retrieved 2014-08-02 from http://www.educause.edu/ero/article/implementing-authentic-tasks-web-based-learning-environments.
• Constructivism (Philosophy of Education). (n.d.). Retrieved 2014-08-03 from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Constructivism_(philosophy_of_education).
• Introduction to Inquiry-Based Learning. (n.d.). Retrieved 2014-08-03 from http://calgaryscienceschool.blogspot.ca/2011/11/introduction-to-inquiry-based-learning.html.
• Designing Inquiry-Based Learning. (n.d.). Retrieved 2014-08-03 from http://calgaryscienceschool.blogspot.ca/2009/09/designing-inquiry-based-learning.html
• Susan Cain: The Power of Introverts. (n.d.). Retrieved 2014-08-03 from http://www.ted.com/talks/susan_cain_the_power_of_introverts
• Newmann, F.M. & Wehlage, G.G. (1993). Five Standards of Authentic Instruction. Educational Leadership. 50(7), 8-12. Retrieved 2014-08-02 from http://www.ascd.org/publications/educational-leadership/apr93/vol50/num07/Five-Standards-of-Authentic-Instruction.aspx
• Ken Robinson: How to escape education's death valley [video file, published 2013-05-10]. Retrieved 2014-08-02 from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wX78iKhInsc.
• What is Authentic Learning? [video file, published 2013-09-06]. Retrieved 2014-08-02 from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UNP7hv0d0Rk. 

It's Design of the Times

I was incredibly excited when I saw that one of the chapters for this week's reading was about the matter of "the design of learning environments". I was expecting the chapter to (finally!) deal with something where I have some expertise. Alas, it was not to be.

The chapter starts with tremendous promise. As it says, "(S)chools have undergone major changes in the past century". (Bransford, Brown, & Cocking, 2000.) It goes on to say that, a century ago, "(T)he challenge of providing mass education was seen by many as analogous to mass production in factories," and to propose that this paradigm led to notions of efficiency, standardization and ("scientific") management of education. (Bransford, Brown, & Cocking, 2000.)

I absolutely concur with all of those propositions. But I was subsequently profoundly disappointed that the chapter did not then deal with what I was expecting and hoping that it would, at least in part, which is the actual physical design of schools and learning environments. So with your indulgence, please let me devote the remainder of this post to my thoughts in this area, which I believe is fundamentally critical to "transforming teaching and learning"!

I am not an architect by vocation--but I was married to one for 20 years, so I am somewhat of an amateur "architect" by avocation. I also did post-graduate study in architectural history and theory (the incomplete PhD which will haunt me the rest of my born days). Just before the turn of the 20th century, the American architect Louis Sullivan (generally considered the "father" of both the skyscraper and architectural "modernism") coined the phrase "form follows function". Without getting into great, gory detail, the expression is essentially self-explanatory. The architectural form of something should flow and follow from the function of that thing--whatever it may be. The form of an individual room should derive from its function, the form of a group of rooms should do the same, and so on until you have a finished building--the form of which should, then, be fundamentally driven by, ideally suited to, and a physical embodiment of its function. (Coincidentally and/or ironically, Sullivan went on to do much of his professional work within the emerging paradigm(s) of mass production, standardization, and "scientific management" that so deeply infused much of early 20th century thought.)

I have long maintained that the present-day "school" as we currently construct and recognize it is virtually indistinguishable--physically--from a prison. They both tend to be rather bland and generic buildings. They are both typically low-rise, flat-roofed structures. They are typically placed in isolation, sitting like an island on a large piece of land, which is easily observed and monitored. They are both (very unfortunately in the case of schools) frequently surrounded by (ugly) chain link fence. In some schools, even more unfortunately, their surroundings even dictate that said fence is topped with razor wire. And in some schools, there are armed guards and people must pass through metal detectors to enter. In both institutions--and it's important to think of them as institutions--security is extremely important. (Granted, in the case of one security is intended to keep bad guys out while the intent of the other is to keep them in--but security is security.) School, like prisons, even go into occasional "lockdowns". I could go on with the analogy, but I'm sure you get the point--and might never look at school building the same as you did before.

Is a facility which so closely resembles a prison really the best possible "design" of an ideal learning environment? Obviously not. I would also argue that while learning goals have indeed changed tremendously in the past 100 years, the design of schools has not kept up. Schools re, I would suggest, still designed (and operated) as "factories". If the function of schools has changed so dramatically, why hasn't the form changed equally dramatically?

I absolutely agree with Bransford et al that learning environments should be "learner centered, knowledge centered, assessment centered, and community centered". (Bransford, Brown, & Cocking, 2000.) I also absolutely agree with their positions, from the chapter on technology, that schools, the design of learning environments, and technology should "increase connections between schools and the communities" and "make connections between students' in-school and out-of-school activities", and do "function in a social environment". (Bransford, Brown, & Cocking, 2000.) I truly applaud absolutely everyone who works to try to make that happen within a physical environment which is not designed for any such thing.

From my point of view, the first and most fundamentally important thing that must take place in order to truly "transform teaching and learning" is to radically rethink and redesign the physical (and institutional and social) "learning environments" within which teaching and learning are happening. Unless we (the great collective we) change the form of our schools, present and future functions will never be able to reach their full potential. This is where I see the greatest challenge in the design of learning environments--and it is the area in which I would most like to find myself working in the future!

Citation:
Bransford, J., Brown, A., & Cocking, R. (2000). How People Learn: Brain, Mind, Experience, & School. Washington, D.C.: National Academy Press.

The Leader of TPACK

The Significant Item:
"(W)hile hundreds of studies claim TPACK as theoretical framing, very little theoretical development of the model has occurred" (Graham, 2011)

(With apologies in advance for this week's entry--I returned "home" from Brazil a few days ago only to find that I don't really have a "home". There was a massive flood in my condo building (Ruptured hot water supply line), and my home sweet home is completely torn apart for repairs. Oddly enough, working on the course was actually easier while I was away than it has been since my return, so this week has been a bit of a scramble, and this may not be my most cogent or substantive contribution! That said, on with the show...)

A theory isn't a theory without theory. As tautological as that may seem, I was having some problems with TPACK, but wasn't quite able to pin down the reason for my discomfort until I read the Graham article. Suddenly, my qualms made sense to me.

With your kind permission, please allow me an anecdotal tangent (or two). I am sufficiently (painfully!) metacognitively aware of my own approach to learning. I simply am not one of those people who can simply plunge headlong into something without a sufficient understanding of "the big picture". I will illustrate with two examples. The first is my recent attempt to learn to play the ukulele. Before I could even pick up the instrument and try to play a single note or chord (practical learning/knowledge), I had to understand to my own satisfaction everything about it on an abstract level. I learned about the history of the instrument--its origins and evolution. I learned about the composition of the instrument--materials, form, and so on. I refreshed my memory about how vibrating strings produce sound. I also refreshed my memory about music theory--the relationships between particular frequencies and so forth. I know this sounds incredibly odd to most people, but until I had done all of that (and more), I literally could not imagine simply picking the thing up and starting to try to play it in a vacuum.

The same applied to my recent experience of studying the become an ESL instructor. The program simply plunged into "how" without (for me) sufficient contextual information about the history and theory of the field. I had to read up on all of that for my own sanity; otherwise I would not have been able to complete the program.

These are, as I said, personal anecdotes (and perhaps illustrations of a rather unusual way of approaching learning), but I find them highly relevant. I simply cannot see how people can, in good conscience, "do" anything without a) building a robust body of theoretical knowledge in their given domain, and b) understanding that body of theoretical knowledge. Yes, 16th Century "doctors" did their best with the limited understanding they had, but we live in a world where we have access to astonishing knowledge, and to "do" education without a sufficient theoretical framework--which practitioners must study before going out into the field to educate--seems akin to some of those 16th Century medical practices!

As Graham says further on, "One intuitively recognizes the importance of integrating knowledge domains related to pedagogy, subject matter, and technology. However, the simplicity of the model hides a deep underlying level of complexity, in part because all of the constructs being integrated are broad and ill-defined." (Graham, 2011)

Graham ultimately concludes that TPACK has "the potential to provide a strong foundation for future technology integration research," but that significant work remains to provide sufficient rigor and robustness to realize this potential. (Graham, 2011)

Graham's position resonates incredibly powerfully with me--not only with respect to TPACK but to much of what I am beginning to learn is the "state of the art" in the realm of educational theory. To borrow a word from last week, I find much of it to be incredibly "squishy". Not only am I personally predisposed to "theory first, then practice" as a general paradigm, but I come from previous educational worlds where theory was crucial (chemistry, film theory, and architectural theory).

Yes, there is something undeniably intuitively seductive about integrating knowledge domains. And something that can be expressed in a simple tripartite Venn diagram, as TPACK frequently is, seems elegantly simple and, again, seductive. But I remain leery. As I said, I had vague and undefined qualms, which have only been amplified by reading the Graham article.

The obvious implication of all of this for both practice and future investigation is that I agree with Graham that much more work needs to be done for it to have convincing validity. I understand the sense of urgency in a world that is evolving so rapidly, but I would prefer to create robust theories and models, with strong theoretical foundations, rather than lurch from fad to fad.

Reference:
Graham, C. R. (2011). Theoretical considerations for understanding technological pedagogical content knowledge (TPACK). Computers & Education, 57(3), 1953-1960.

Time for a Paradigm Shift?

The Significant Item:

• "Before students can engage with the new participatory culture, they must be able to read and write." (Jenkins, 2006, p. 19)
• "Meaning making occurs whether we use traditional, paper-based texts or digital, multimodal texts," (Rowsell, 2011, p. 57)

Jenkins makes a powerful and persuasive case for the value of "participatory culture" in both his article and TEDx talk. But as the quote above makes abundantly clear, he is not arguing for the abandonment of traditional literacy. And as Rowsell points out, there is fundamentally very little difference between "traditional" and "digital literacy". It's all about constructing meaning.

I would propose that Jenkins' notion of "participatory culture", in the broadest sense, is also about the very same thing--constructing meaning, specifically constructing a sense of the world, one's place in it, and how one can interact with others to affect the world. But schools and educators seems to be having tremendous difficulty grappling with "digital literacy", "technology", and so on. 

This is why all of the readings and the video clips have made me think ever more that "schools"--as social institutions--are extraordinarily conservative institutions which are incredibly resistant to change and in desperate need of a massive paradigm shift:

This, to me, is the greatest implication for professional practice and the ground for further questions. How do we "transform" such a large, cumbersome, and unwieldy thing as "public education"? Schools that shut down social media are doing exactly the wrong thing. Schools that discourage collaboration are doing exactly the wrong thing.

But even here in this course, we're struggling with a certain aspect or issue that is part of the questions that are being asked, having to do with intellectual property. As the NMC Horizon Report (Johnson, Adams Becker, Cummins, Estrada, Freeman, & Ludgate, 2013, p. 7) suggests, the very idea of "authoritative sources" is being broken down and replaced by concepts of openness. This is a HUGE area of consideration for academics (and intellectual property lawyers and policy makers). One person's "plagiarism" or "intellectual theft" (based on a closed and proprietary notion of ideas and information) is another person's "mashup" or "remix" (based on an open and collaborative notion of ideas and information). That said, here are my citations:

Jenkins, H. (2006). Confronting the challenges of participatory culture: Media education for the 21st century. John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation. Retrieved from http://digitallearning.macfound.org/atf/cf/%7B7E45C7E0-A3E0-4B89-AC9C-E807E1B0AE4E%7D/JENKINS_WHITE_PAPER.PDF

Johnson, L., Adams Becker, S., Cummins, M., Estrada, V., Freeman, A., & Ludgate, H. (2013). NMC Horizon Report: 2013. Higher Education Edition. Austin, Texas: The New Media Consortium. Retrieved from http://www.nmc.org/pdf/2013-horizon-report-k12.pdf

Rowsell, J. (2011). Rethinking literacy education in new times: Multimodality, multiliteracies, & new literacies. Retrieved from http://brock.scholarsportal.info/journals/brocked/home/article/view/236/174

Just don't call it a "method"!

The Significant Item:
"Inquiry is much more than a teaching method--it is a way of being in the classroom, as well as in the world." (Clifford & Marinucci, 2008, p. 676)

Please forgive me for saying so, but I find this rhetoric just a touch on the hyperbolic side. When we start talking about something--anything--in such epistemologically absolutist terms, I start to get just a little nervous. Such language begins to take on slightly cultish/creepy overtones for me.

Please don't get me wrong. I find it very difficult to disagree in any substantive fashion with what I've been reading and learning so far (although it's still early days!), but--to be perfectly frank/blunt--I also find that a lot of what I've been reading and learning so far seems to be from the realm of truths we hold to be self-evident.

I know it may be heresy, but it still seems to me that there really isn't that much that is truly new, different, or radical about "inquiry". Clifford and Marinucci go on to argue that "true" or "genuine" inquiry demands that "teachers develop the attitudes of a scholar", that such authentic inquiry evokes "questions that lead to further questions", requires a "spirit of wonder", and that it is "a knowledge-building space in which ideas are at the center and each individual has a commitment to producing the collective, evolving understanding".

This is all well and good, but as far as my poor little mind can discern, it is essentially an articulation of (the philosophy of) "science" as a pedagogical paradigm, within which "inquiry" would be the good old "scientific method" which meets all of the stated criteria (it functions within an epistemological paradigm--a way of being in the world, it requires the attitudes of a scholar, it is entirely driven by questions which lead to further questions, it is most definitely undertaken in a spirit of curiosity and wonder, and "science" is exactly a "knowledge-building space in which ideas are at the center and each individual has a commitment to producing the collective, evolving understanding"). So what's wrong with calling "inquiry" a "method"? Within such a construct, I see nothing wrong with the word at all!

By the by, I deliberately chose to include links to Wikipedia pages, because the notion of a knowledge building space devoted to ideas with individuals producing a collective, evolving understanding is also exactly the concept of "collective intelligence" which drives Wikipedia itself. 

And this is where my questions for further investigation reside. I'm fascinated by "collective intelligence", "shared knowledge", and so on within the realms of digital media and digital citizenship. Yes, learning needs to be authentic, meaningful, and relevant in "real" communities beyond the classroom and the school. But those "real communities" are increasingly "virtual" and digital. With a few clicks and/or keystrokes, students today can almost instantly bring together constantly-shifting communities of astonishing breadth and depth. How do we design and implement a truly relevant model of education in such a world?

References:
Clifford, P. & Marinucci, S. (2008). Testing the waters: Three elements of classroom inquiry. Harvard Educational Review, 78(4), 675-688. Retrieved from http://library1.ucalgary.ca/u.php?id=3209
Philosophy of Science. (2014-07-06). In Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. Retrieved 2014-07-06 from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Philosophy_of_science.
Science. (2014-07-06). In Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. Retrieved 2014-07-06 from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Science.
Paradigm. (2014-07-06). In Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. Retrieved 2014-07-06 from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paradigm.
Scientific Method. (2014-07-06). In Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. Retrieved 2014-07-06 from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scientific_method.
Collective Intelligence. (2014-07-06). In Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. Retrieved 2014-07-06 from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Collective_intelligence.