My annual lawn tractor mantenance kit from Sears in one hand, tools I think I’ll need in another, and the manual which I’d studied over a morning coffee and milk (“latte” just seems out of place here) in my teeth, I head to the garage and hunker down for what I think should take me all of an hour or so.

That was six hours ago.

Draining the oil went smoothly, but the oil filter that came in the box, Where does that go? The manual does not have pictures. YouTube perhaps? Thanks Trevor, whoever you are, for letting me know that even you have to use that Special Wrench and can’t remove the oil filter simply with sheer brawn and manly hands. Off to the hardware store.

Then there was the in-line fuel filter. I get what it’s for. But where is it? There’s nothing under the hood that looks anything like the one in the box. The manual doesn’t really say where it is or provide any helpful illustrations. After poking about tractor innards, the thing that I find that I’m sure must be the filter does not resemble the thing in the box. The manual pages with the parts listing – you know, the ones with all the anatomically correct line drawings of various engine bits, pieces and parts, all numbered, with the corresponding part names on the facing page – provide the fuel filter part number that I should have received, but which is not what is written on the nice new fuel filter in my hand. More online searching, and finally a call to the friendly Sears cusomer service. After reassurance that the part is a correct substitute, I am ready to go. Now, where’s that piece of paper? Ah…Here it is. The instructions provided say,

“Install new fuel filter in proper position, according to the directional flow, or “in” and “out” markings on the filter body. Secure with the original clamps.”

No pictures. Right. This is where I get tired of running in and out of the house to dig for videos – someone to show me, for heaven’s sake – what the proper position is, how on earth those clamps work, and, what I wouldn’t have known without the nice people at Lowe’s who posted that John Deere video just last month: that gasoline is going to spew out everywhere in the process.

Husband’s laptop balanced on engine.
Wireless, go.
Battery, check.
I’m on a roll again.

 There’s a spark plug in that box, too. I did not know that there exists a special gizmo just for spark plugs, just for measuring the distance between the hook doodad on the end and the plug body. Another video later with the same friendly sounding tractor-fixing guy, and a few google searches for “Where’s the spark plug on a Sears lawn tractor?” (“Natural language” search strategy employed. Intentional, of course) I manage to find it, use both the wire gauge and spark plug socket procured on trip number two to the local hardware, and do the deed. I credit the video tractor guy with such an encouraging voice, the voice with the kind tone that says,

“You can do this.
I know you can.
I know you know that people who do this for a living, like me, do all of this in under an hour without getting oil all over the garage floor. But, yes, you can do this, too.”

So, would it be legitimate to say that “elearning goes to the garage”? The interaction between my lawn tractor and me felt a bit one-sided; but, then the classroom sometimes does feel that way despite our best efforts. I definitely feel as though I’ve warmed up to the John Deere guy, despite my initial misgivings. I’m not certain there was collaboration of any sort; I felt like I was doing all the work this time around. Now, if I could have had technical service via video conferencing, that definitely would have improved matters all around.

Now I just need someone to assure me that nothing bad will happen when I start the engine.

Online Assessment Final Project

Photo credit: NASA

Under Holmgren's Watch: Photo credit, Bernie Zimmerman

Pre-course Survey

Taxonomy Table Assignment

…and I do have a soft spot for sequels and series! Sure, the first book might be satisfying in and of itself, but when it’s really good, anticipation along with a barely perceptible haze of resentment builds as I near the final pages. I love knowing that there will be another chance to watch characters grow and plots thicken.

So it is with lesson plans and assessment tools that accompany them. Even if lesson, unit, project, or workshop culminates well, there are always thoughts of “What next?” “How could this be better?” “There must be a way to avoid this glitch?” “Is there a better way for students to show what they know?” Developing our Web 2.0 Toolbox reinforced this questioning. As Linda, David and I explored how Edmodo, Museumbox, and Elluminate could feature in our planning, I was constantly reminded that the tools we explored would change with upgrades or be supplanted by others. Our improved skill in evaluating new “cool” tools for educational value would be the lasting product of this activity. Happily, it’s a never-ending story.

Click to visit our Web 2.0 Assessment Toolbox.

Although so 20th century, Bloom, Strunk and White provide us language guidelines that we continue to use employ in articulating our course design, including our assessment plans.  Of all the illustrations I have seen, I find the taxonomy wheel most useful.

Bloom's Taxonomy Verbs and Assessments: http://zaidlearn.blogspot.com/2009/07/use-blooms-taxonomy-wheel-for-writing.html

This visual provides inspiration for selecting assessments that match an objective or the other way around. Notice as well that with the wheel, rather than referring to cognition “levels” or a hierarchy, each domain is afforded equal importance in learning; knowledge is just as important as synthesis which is just as important as application.  I do recognize that when there is a preponderance of activities that emphasize comprehending and knowing and a dearth of those that allow for evaluation and synthesis, the wheel goes out of alignment and my students will be lucky to arrive at their destination – if they don’t bail out first out of sheer boredom.  Yet, how nice it is that I don’t have to feel I ask too little to expect my students to on occasion comprehend and be “in the know” about something.

Gentle reader (or two if there are any indulgent enough to have read this far), I leave you with a quote. Perhaps it will illustrate why viewing Bloom’s taxonomy as a hierarchy may not be the most beneficial. Hopefully, it illustrates why sometimes - just sometimes – providing opportunities for my students to get to know something (electricity, in the following example) before they demonstrate application (perhaps a painful proposition? I wouldn’t know.) benefits them well:

“There are three kinds of men. The one that learns by reading. The few who learn by observation. The rest of them have to pee on the electric fence for themselves.” (attributed to Will Rogers)

 References (although I doubt they would be proud to be associated with this particular post):

Alsagoff, Z. A. (2009, July 25). ZaidLearn: Use Bloom’s taxonomy wheel for writing learning outcomes. ZaidLearn. Retrieved February 10, 2011, from http://zaidlearn.blogspot.com/2009/07/use-blooms-taxonomy-wheel-for-writing.html.

Strunk, W., & White, E. B. (1979). The elements of style (3d ed.). New York: Macmillan.

She points out that by the time they are 21, these young people will have spent over 10,000 online hours. She draws a connection with Malcolm Gladwell who, in The Outliers, proposes that 10,000 hours is what it takes for a person to become an “expert” in a field. In this context I ask, expert at… what, exactly? Socializing online? Browsing? Multitasking? Finding information to answer their questions? But does that mean they will be experts at recognizing authoritative information by default? Does this mean they understand cyber ethics without instruction? Some people do learn without formal instruction, and there’s no doubt about that; however, unless the rest who are more likely to thrive with some formal guidance are led to participate in engaging learning experiences where they practice critical analysis and project collaboration, I question whether their hours in front of the screen guarantee their success in future work endeavors. As an educator, I view the term “screenager” a commentary on how students learn and a small subset of what they need to know to be successful.

I especially found Mark Bauerlein’s article, Too Dumb for Complex Texts? a case in point. What is often missing is finding engaging ways to teach the discipline of focus: managing to read longer non-fiction text, and following another author’s argument from introduction, through supporting details, to conclusion.

These two questions are from the Educational Leadership study guide for this article.  What do you think?

• What do you think of Bauerlein’s argument? If you’ve been teaching for more than 10 years, do you see students becoming less able to complete complex readings? How do your students tend to react when you assign a long, intricate reading that requires deliberation?
• Unlike Richardson, Bauerlein doesn’t see students becoming “content creators” as a purely positive development. Young readers who are used to having their own ideas spotlighted may lose the humility to patiently comprehend someone else’s ideas. Do you agree? (Educational Leadership, 2011)