Phrases I Can’t Live Without

I hear a lot of conversations in educator spheres about “the power of relationship.” We all know relationship is important; we agree that caring about our students is essential if they are going to trust that they can learn safely in our classes. I’d love to see the conversation turn now to the how of powerful relationship with students. I’m lucky to work in a school where I have the luxury of time and a small ratio to get to know my students well, but I think anyone in any setting can build powerful relationship if they develop the skills to do so.

One small thing anyone can do is pay attention to her speech. How do your words line up with your stance toward students? Are students hearing in your everyday conversations how much you care about them? Here are some of my go-to phrases for aligning my walk with my talk.

 

  • Tell me more. I can spend all day trying to analyze, interpret and theorize what’s going on with my students, but I find that if I listen well enough, the student will tell me exactly what’s going on and what they need. Same with coworkers and staff.
  • I don’t know. Being in authentic relationship means being vulnerable. Whether it’s an answer to a math question – I really don’t know! – or an acknowledgement that I don’t know how it feels to be in foster care, in a fight with my step-dad, struggling with hunger – saying I don’t know allows me to be honest and allows my student to trust that I’m not just going to fake my way through our relationship. “I don’t know” is best followed up with but let’s figure it out together. 
  • In response to a variety of questions, from “Can I take a break?” to “Can’t I just drop out of school?” to “Can I study medical marijuana?”: Yes – now let’s think about what that will mean – for you and for those around you. Starting with “yes” validates that what my student wants is valid, important, and ultimately, up to him, not me. Exploring choices is the meat of our work together.
  • I care about you. Not going to lie, it felt kind of weird the first few times I said the phrase “I care about you” that directly to students. But I think pretty much everyone deserves to hear loudly and often how much others care about them, and when I care about my students, I’m going to let them know and I’m not going to let them forget it.
  • I care about you but here’s how I was impacted by the choice you just made. There’s no such thing as a “good kid” or “bad kid,” just a kid with context who makes choices. I try to remember this in every moment I feel frustrated by a situation with a student, and then I try to say very clearly that I’m not dismissing the student herself, but hoping we can work through a choice she made. “I’ve seen you be kind to others before – so when you just called me a name, I was confused. Let’s talk about what’s going on.” Feels a lot better than “You can’t talk like that in here, go to the principal’s office,” doesn’t it?
  • You have value. If we are to prevent students from “falling through the cracks,” we need to remind them all day, every day that they have value and are valued by the community. Whether it’s recognizing a kind comment, strong academic work, increased effort, or even just showing up to school on a day they didn’t want to – these little recognitions add up to the message that you, yes you, have value here.

 

What are your go-to phrases, or best alternatives to “traditional teacher talk” that you use to help your students learn and grow, and to build positive relationship?

3 Reasons to Check Out EdCamp Centerpoint

EdCampCPS Logo

  1. Make a connection. Instead of “sit and get” professional development, EdCamp requires that you move around, actively participate, and talk to new people. I went to a tech conference in the area last spring and went almost the entire day without having more than a small-talk conversation with anyone – and I’m a pretty social person. It’s pretty impossible to get away with that at an EdCamp – I promise. We’re expecting participants with a wide range of backgrounds and experiences, so take advantage of the cross-pollination and make a connection with someone new.
  2. Centerpoint isn’t like any other school you’ve seen before. Take a tour through our building, where rooms have names instead of numbers, students cook lunch for the school every day, and staff are encouraged to turn student-centered ideas into action (for example: this week we’re launching a therapeutic in-car driver’s ed program – I think it’s the first program of its kind). We do everything we do for the benefit of our students, and you can see that when you walk in the door. Come be part of our community for a day.
  3. Nurture yourself. Why come to an EdCamp during a school vacation? I think you’ll find it to be a way to “fill your tank,” rather than increase your burnout. We’ll have a ton of food and coffee to get your brain ready for learning (thanks to Physician’s Computer Company, Cabot Cheese, City Market, Healthy Living, and more of our amazing sponsors). The content of EdCamp is whatever participants bring to the table – so talk about the issues about which you are passionate, with other passionate education stakeholders from across Vermont. Put some energy and enthusiasm in your bank, and start fresh after the break with new ideas about how to support learning for all learners.

 

I really hope you’ll consider joining us at EdCamp Centerpoint on April 23. Preregister so we can be ready to host you, and tell your friends, too! Click: https://www.smore.com/7kru-edcamp-centerpoint 

 

A New Texture of Normal

I want to write a hundred books. No, maybe a thousand. Or just worm my way into books that are already on the shelves, dropping seeds like Hansel and Gretel wandering through the library.

The plot of these books wouldn’t matter. The protagonists? They can be anyone. What I’m interested in are the characters in the background, on the sidelines, minor characters who provide texture and contrast. I have a mission for these characters.

Right now when I read books, especially those for young adults, these side characters do a lot of things casually. They go to basketball practice. They stand at their lockers. They text their girlfriends. They drive beat-up cars. Whether a vampire or a witch or a high school student or all three, the side characters do what they do and blend into the background. They give us a backdrop of “normal” against which the protagonist shines.

So here’s my mission for these side characters. I want them to create a new “normal.” I want to see the side characters take their antidepressants with lunch. I want them to drive in their beat-up cars to their therapists’ offices. Text their social workers, go to their IEP meetings, name their anxiety.

I don’t want these routines to be the focus of these books. There are already books about struggles and hardships, about being an exception to the rule. Let the protagonists speak to the pain and drama of anxiety, depression, substance use, mental illness. They have something powerful to say.

What I want with the background characters is to create a new kind of a texture, a texture that goes unremarked and unexamined, one that creates a new “normal” backdrop for the stories our teens read. In this backdrop, it’s normal to talk about your depression meds, to go to an alternative school, and to work through difficult emotions with support from adults. If I wrote a thousand books with this new normal as a background, maybe a thousand readers would see a glimmer of their own lives and feel validated and heard. Maybe they would tell a thousand friends, and then a thousand more.

Every one of my students is different and faces different challenges. I think, though, that they would all be served by a community that accepted mental health challenges rather than shied away, by a society that embraced open dialogue about emotions rather than discouraged real conversations. How many lives would be saved if young people everywhere felt like it was okay to share what feels heavy and dark, to bring their thoughts and feelings out into the light?

The good news is that I don’t need to write a million books to get my message across. Maybe it would help, but I can save a lot of time (and paper) if you’ll help do your part. It’s not enough to tell the young people in your life that it’s okay to ask for and receive help. Model it. Show them it is. Express yourself in authentic ways to show young people that they can do it too. Hold your judgement when you hear celebrity or local gossip around someone’s mental and emotional health. Carry yourself with an accepting stance and make time to hear young people’s thoughts. It’s not always easy, but it’s essential.

So will we rise to the challenge? Will we create a new texture of normal? What stands in our way? How do you already do this in your life? I’d love to hear…let’s open the conversation.

We Can All Play a Part

When I talk to other teachers about my school, I often hear, “well, you’re small enough that you can do that.” There’s an attitude that we have a luxury of being small and well-staffed – so we can pay attention to things that public school teachers can’t.

Yes and no.

While we certainly benefit from our staffing ratio, there are strategies we use in therapeutic schools that any public school could put into effect with minimal legwork that go miles in their support of all learners. These changes range from small things, like teachers offering differentiated break opportunities in class, to large rethinking of school structures like discipline/suspensions/expulsions.

This article from the New York Times’ Opinionator column describes some of the work being done in the field right now in creating trauma-informed schools. It’s a good introduction for teachers or schools just beginning to think about how to incorporate trauma-informed practices into their systems and structures.

In a month I’ll be facilitating a conversation at EduCon Philly on Understanding, Intention, and Awareness: Lessons For Everyone From a Therapeutic School. My basic feeling is this: what we do at our therapeutic school isn’t a proprietary “program,” an expertise that takes years to develop, or a secret methodology. It’s an understanding of where our students come from, an awareness of how we bring ourselves to the work, and an intention crafted with the student’s needs in mind. Trauma-informed, special ed-informed, just informed in general  we can all move our schools forward with some self-reflection.

If you’re at EduCon, I look forward to starting the conversation with you all. If you won’t be, let’s connect! How do you think we can move our schools toward more supportive practices for children with trauma histories?

A response from Governor Shumlin

Governor Shumlin finally wrote me a response to this letter I sent a couple of months ago.

Dear Alex,

Thank you for your feedback on my speech at the Women Can Do conference. I apologize for the delay in response. In my continued commitment to gender equality, I appreciate your insight and share your desire to empower Vermont’s young women.

Last legislative session, I supported efforts to get Vermont women equal pay for equal work. I continue to be a strong supporter of gender equality as governor and I hope that other states will follow Vermont’s lead in this matter. I take to heart your comment that I must be careful to offer encouragement to all young Vermonters, and appreciate your advocacy on this issue.

Thank you again for your letter. I will keep your thoughts in mind as I move forward.

Sincerely,

Peter Shumlin
Governor
109 State Street, Pavilion
Montpelier, Vermont 05609
802-828-3333

As expected from a politician, the letter is mostly self-affirming – but I appreciate that last sentence in the second paragraph. It seems to me to say that he (or a staffer) truly did read and consider what I had to say.

What do you think?

Social/emotional skills, the feedback loop, and SuperBetter

What does it mean to be a friend? How do I manage strong emotions so I can meet my personal goals? Who am I? These are the questions my students explore at the therapeutic school where I teach. Developing social and emotional skills is hard work, and traditional talk therapy or skills work face-to-face does not reach every student. When maladaptive skills “work,” students may be less motivated to change. Finding a supportive community to explore these changes is hard, too, especially when a student’s family context is challenging. We need more creative ways to approach this therapeutic work.

We often hear hear about how online communities such as Facebook and Twitter are ruining our ability to communicate with one another. Teens get into texting fights, parents struggle to keep up with the latest form of communication, teachers try to balance technology integration. But what if we looked at online communities from a strengths-based perspective? How can online communities actually help people develop social and emotional skills? What are the ways in which we can use technology to our advantage in building our ability to have positive, meaningful relationships with others? There is not a large field of work on this topic, but I can offer some related thoughts and insights from the research and my own experience.

What can technology offer that face-to-face conversations or supports cannot? One of the most powerful uses of technology for social and emotional learning is the feedback loop. Thomas Goetz in a 2011 Wired Magazine article described the feedback loop this way:

The basic premise is simple. Provide people with information about their actions in real time (or something close to it), then give them an opportunity to change those actions, pushing them toward better behaviors. Action, information, reaction. It’s the operating principle behind a home thermostat, which fires the furnace to maintain a specific temperature, or the consumption display in a Toyota Prius, which tends to turn drivers into so-called hypermilers trying to wring every last mile from the gas tank. But the simplicity of feedback loops is deceptive. They are in fact powerful tools that can help people change bad behavior patterns, even those that seem intractable. Just as important, they can be used to encourage good habits, turning progress itself into a reward. In other words, feedback loops change human behavior. And thanks to an explosion of new technology, the opportunity to put them into action in nearly every part of our lives is quickly becoming a reality. (Goetz 2011)

The basic cycle of a feedback loop is data collection, meaningful feedback, consequences, and action. Say you want to impact your weight. You  might collect data about how many calories you eat each day. After collecting for a week, you turn this data into a chart of calories consumed – a chart that takes on emotional relevance through your ability to understand and relate to the data. The consequence of your actions become clear: maybe you need to eat fewer calories to lose weight, or you need to eat more to support your workout routine. Finally, you take action and adjust your behavior based on this new information. The feedback loop starts all over again.

Feedback loops are possible without the use of technology, but collecting, displaying, and interpreting data are much easier with the use of the supercomputers we carry around in our backpacks and pockets. Sites that use the feedback loop to positively impact social and emotional behavior could become powerful communities for change, especially with teenagers who often lament, “but how does this apply to me?” Inherent in the feedback loop is relevance, and relevance breeds motivation.

One such website I believe uses the feedback loop to its advantage is SuperBetter.com. SuperBetter was developed by Jane McGonigal, a game designer who created the game when dealing with suicidal thoughts after a traumatic brain injury. The game originated as “Jane the Concussion Slayer,” which she invited her sister and partner to play with her. When McGonigal asked her sister to play a game with her, it was “an easier way to ask for help” (McGonigal 2012). I think about my students and how difficult it is sometimes for them to ask for others to help them work on social and emotional goals, but how easy it might be for them to text or message a friend an invitation to a game.

“Jane the Concussion Slayer” grew into SuperBetter, a free online game (with a paid iOS app) that uses quests, power-ups, bad guys, and allies to help anyone get “superbetter” from anything. The game is customizable to a specific challenge, such as quitting smoking, or can be broad: you can set your objective in the game to “I’m just getting SuperBetter!” Once you create a “secret identity” for an avatar, you then specify your “Epic Win” – or why you want to improve. Behind each of these elements of the game is scientific research supporting how playing the game truly improves your health and wellness. Players can find this research distilled into easy-to-digest articles in the “Secret Lab” section of the website interface.

The game itself focuses on developing players’ resilience in four different research-based areas: emotional, social, mental and physical. Players use “power-ups” for small coping strategies, “quests” to learn new skills, and “battle bad guys” for reflecting on larger, overarching challenges. These categories are exactly the ways that we support students at my therapeutic school, but we do not use the feedback loop as effectively as SuperBetter. In SuperBetter, you gain points as you complete quests and power-ups in each area of resilience. You can go into your Secret Lab and view how your resilience has changed over time and the progress you are making in your well-being. SuperBetter collects the data from your actions in the game, presents it to you in meaningful ways through the gamification/”points” approach, and then you can make your decision on further actions based on how you see the activities supporting or not supporting you. The player then takes actions and the feedback loop starts over again.

However, the true power of SuperBetter is in the community it creates. You can do SuperBetter on your own – but the game encourages and rewards for you for enlisting “allies.” Through the design of the site, you essentially create a social network that is focused on you and your wellness. The set-up of the site allows for only people you have specifically invited to support you to access your activity. Your allies can comment and “like” your progress, award you achievements, and recommend tasks for you. The process brings your allies in and transforms them into part of your feedback loop, adding extra data to the set, making feedback more meaningful, and helping you to consider your consequences.

In SuperBetter’s “secret lab” section about allies, the research about social relationships is synthesized: “having at least two strong social relationships dramatically increases positive health outcomes and helps us succeed in our goals” (SuperBetter Labs 2012). Furthermore, SuperBetter defines what makes a positive social relationship: one that includes positivity, honesty, support and closeness. For students like mine, saying “strong social relationship” would not be sufficient to understand what types of allies one needs in the journey to bettering oneself. The research synthesis on SuperBetter (developed from peer-reviewed papers also linked to in the secret lab) describes those characteristics as well as the benefits of developing a strong relationship with an ally. In this way, SuperBetter not only supports the social and emotional growth between people, but actually teaches how to do this.

There is currently wide support in the field of education for “gamification.” In an article for Edutopia, Matthew Farber describes how gaming elements such as leveling up, achievements, badges, and Easter eggs are used in the classroom. Farber concludes that gaming is “the very definition of constructivism” (2013). The Mozilla Foundation further supports elements of gamification in a paper collaborating with Peer 2 Peer University and the MacArthur Foundation. Learning today takes place across multiple settings, not just a classroom, and in multiple means, not just rote memorization and testing. Yet, “institutions still decide what types of learning ‘count’, with little room or innovation, as well as who gets to have access to that learning” (2012). Badges are a “bridge between contexts” and support motivation, flexibility, and community-building. In SuperBetter, badges are called “achievements” and can be awarded from an ally to their “hero,” further supporting the social and emotional connections in the community.

In addition to the impacts of classroom integration, the act of playing games in itself can have positive emotional impacts. In one study, after playing “casual” video games such as Bejeweled, subjects experienced less physical and emotional stress.  (Russoniello et al 2009). However, these casual games are not social – and do not teach a regulation skill, they are in themselves a coping mechanism. Different research suggests that social online games can impact “real-world” relationship. In a study from Michigan State University, researchers found that people playing games on social networks could practice relationship skills such as initiating, maintaining, and enhancing relationship. They also found loose evidence that certain behaviors reinforced by Facebook games in particular – such as reciprocity – had a positive impact on relationship. (Wohn et al, 2011).

Can SuperBetter and gamification replace traditional means of building social/emotional skills? I doubt it, but I do have faith that using elements of gamification in therapeutic work can engage students. Gamification is another way of making learning visible, tangible, and putting it in the hands of the learner – and in my experience those traits lead to successful learning outcomes, both in content areas and in social/emotional skills. I plan to try SuperBetter with some of my students in the upcoming semester, and to encourage my teachers to use visible markers of learning to support our students’ growth.

References
Farber, Matthew. “Gamifying Student Engagement.” Edutopia. N.p., 2 May 2013. Web. 2 Dec.
2013. <http://www.edutopia.org/blog/gamifying-student-engagement-matthew-farber>.
Goetz, Thomas. “Harnessing the Power of Feedback Loops.” Wired Magazine 19 June 2011: n.
pag. Wired.com. Web. 29 Nov. 2013.
McGonigal, Jane. (2012 June). Jane McGonigal: The game that can give you 10 years of extra life
. Retrieved from http://www.ted.com/talks/jane_mcgonigal_the_game_that_can_give_you_10_extra_years_of_life.html
Mozilla Foundation, People 2 People University and MacArthur Foundation. 2012. Open badges
for lifelong learning. Mozilla Foundation. https://wiki.mozilla.org/File:OpenBadges-Working-Paper_012312.pdf
Russoniello, C. V., O’Brien, K., & Parks, J. M. (2009). The effectiveness of casual video games
in improving mood and decreasing stress. Journal of Cyber Therapy and Rehabilitation, 2(1), 53-66.
“Secret Lab: Allies.” SuperBetter. SuperBetter Labs, n.d. Web. 2 Dec. 2013.
<https://www.superbetter.com/heroes/197132/secret_lab#alliances>.
Wohn, Donghee Yvette , Cliff Lampe , Rick Wash, Nicole Ellison, and Jessica Vitak. “The ‘S’ in
Social Network Games: Initiating, Maintaining, and Enhancing Relationships.” Proceedings of the 44th Hawaii International Conference on Systems Sciences (2011): n. pag.Michigan State University. Web. 21 Nov. 2013.

Where are all the therapeutic educators?

Since I’ve started trying to connect with other therapeutic school educators online, I’ve been able to reach exactly…zero.

I joined Twitter a couple of years ago and have been able to connect with teachers of all subject headings (from foreign language to sex ed), in different countries, in rural schools and in urban schools, pro- and anti- Common Core, you name it. But therapeutic school educators – where are you!?

I have a couple of theories for why it’s been difficult to connect with this particular breed of teachers. First, the student population we serve as therapeutic educators requires pretty concrete boundaries. Therapeutic school educators may feel hesitant to use social media in public ways.

Second, I wonder if being outside of public schools separates us from getting “the word” about new kinds of professional development (like EdCamp) or trends like “connected educators.”

Finally, I wonder if therapeutic school educators feel that most of the resources in the connected educator sphere are not applicable. I know I’ve certainly felt this way – leading to my desire to bring therapeutic school educators together in an online community.

Anyone else have ideas? Where are the connected therapeutic school teachers – or how can we connect those not yet hooked in?

Seeking to connect therapeutic school educators

The thing that keeps me going in my job, even more than my love for my students, is the power of my community. You can love your students but still burn out on the difficult work that is teaching social/emotional skills and supporting students’ navigation through incredibly complicated lives. Without the community of educators, social workers and others who care about our students, I wouldn’t be able to do the work I do.

Our school has been participating the last two years in a conference of Vermont therapeutic school educators. While my local community at my school is strong, it adds even more to know that others are out there across my state doing the same type of work and facing the same challenges as I do. It strengthens my practice when I learn from other educators taking different approaches toward the same goal – or taking the same approach as I am, confirming what I know to be good work.

Now, I want to connect even more therapeutic school educators. Twitter has been a really powerful way for me to connect to other educators around the world, but I rarely see others in this space who are primarily working with at-risk youth in a therapeutic setting. Is that you? 

If so, I’d like to start by creating a list of those of us doing this work. Get in touch with your Twitter or blog info, or just say hi. I’d love to see an exchange of ideas, best practices, shared challenges and growth among us. At the very least, I think the power of knowing we are not alone doing this work will be beneficial to everyone involved.

So are you a therapeutic school educator or know someone else who is? Please leave a comment or email me at alex DOT shevrin AT gmail DOT com. I’d love to connect!

Reflections on the case against technology integration

Over the past several months I’ve been investigating the case against technology integration in classrooms – or more broadly, the case against internet and smartphones. Because I’m earning my master’s degree in education with a technology focus, I thought it was important to be able to address concerns and opposition to what I believe to be the great benefits of technology.

Throughout my study, I read Alone TogetherThe Shallows, and Last Child in the Woods. I also kept an eye open to articles and conversations in the education world either supporting or countering technology integration. At core, these readings did not change my beliefs about educational technology, but they did expose me to some fascinating research and trends that those in the field are currently exploring. My core belief is that there is no silver bullet or single answer in education. Every student learns differently and every teacher is most effective in a different way. The tool should fit the task, whether that tool is an iPad or a riverbed.

I’m worried to learn about the ways that the internet may impact our ability to do deep, sustained reading, as I learned in The Shallows. I’m concerned that the internet may push people apart rather than draw them together, as Shelly Turkel argues in Alone Together. I don’t want my children to be more connected to their tablets than to nature, as in the future painted by Richard Louv in Last Child in the Woods. However, these worries don’t outweigh my faith that the internet can help connect disenfranchised youth, that online access can spark interest and availability of higher education, or that real-audience tasks can invigorate reading and writing skill-building. I don’t think it has to be a case of one or the other, of unplugged versus plugged in, of online versus off. We can support our students in ways that make sense for each of them, and blanket acceptance or refusal of any tool doesn’t make sense for all students.

I appreciate the increased awareness I’ve gained over the course of my study, and I hope it will serve me well going forward. I can be more mindful of turning to the internet thoughtlessly, or how Im’ incorporating play in nature into my classes. I can be sure to balance the connections my students build online with the connections they’re making face to face. Throughout it all, I stand steady in my belief that we need to get to know our students well as individuals and then work from there. Relying on my core beliefs and balancing what I know about the drawbacks of screen dependence, I think I will serve my students well.

Review: Last Child in the Woods

Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children from Nature-Deficit DisorderLast Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder by Richard Louv

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

We are separated from nature and it’s dangerous to our children. So goes the thesis of Richard Louv’s Last Child in the Woods, a critique of our society’s relationship with nature and a guide to how we can reconnect. Louv describes how unstructured play in nature has given way to regimented, supervised, and risk-free activities like organized sports that take place on artificial turf. Free play has become criminalized or outlawed, parents are overprotective and live in fear of the unknown. Louv acknowledges the legitimate reasons why these cultural norms developed, but pushes back on them with evidence of the benefits of quality time spent in nature – and dangers of times spent without. “Permanent disconnection of the young and nature,” he says, “is not inevitable.”
Throughout this well-researched, broad examination, Louv looks at the micro solutions to the child/nature separation as well as the macro societal changes that need to be made. He offers ways to talk about nature to our children or our students, and ways to reimagine the way that cities and towns across the country are designed, engineered and built. Through the lenses of law, religion, school, civil engineering, design, and environmentalism, Louv covers in great detail the depth of the problem – and ways to fix it.
Louv uses a few psychological theories or diagnoses to explain what happens when we remove ourselves from nature. These emotionally resonant examples, such as “nature deficit disorder” or “cultural autism,” help drive home the point that nature is a powerful force in our lives and its impact runs deep into our hearts and minds. Louv also uses beautiful imagery of the natural places in our collective memory, like the edge of the vacant lot, the natural fort under the trees in the cul-de-sac. These descriptions sent me back to thoughts of my childhood and the ways in which I interacted with nature on a daily basis in my suburban yard. I think this is a brilliant part of Louv’s approach: we must reconnect to the value we experienced of nature in order to reprioritize similar value for our children.
In parallel to learning more about the impacts of technology on our lives, I’ve also been learning about systems thinking, and Louv sketches a complete picture of the system which leads to a deficit of nature in our lives. Because he carries out his thesis in so many detailed and varied examples, Last Child in the Woods avoids shaming or blaming any particular group (parents, educators, politicians) for the problem. Instead, the book is solution-oriented – offering folks in any role ways to start small in making a change. I appreciated Louv’s emphasis on practical advice to parents and institutions. While it can be overwhelming to think about global warming or the degradation of natural spaces in our country, I felt settled to think of small, concrete steps I can begin to take, in my classroom and my community. One classroom approach with which I was already familiar was place-based education, especially through the lens of David Sobel. Louv sketches out ideas and examples of how schools around the country are connecting with place rather than through the internet to develop children’s skills and helping them learn endangered knowledge of how the natural world works.
Reading Last Child in the Woods wraps up my study of the case against technology integration in schools. I expected to feel defensive while reading this book, but I actually agree with Louv on his opinion of computers: “The problem with computers isn’t computers – they’re just tools; the problem is that overdependence on them displaces other sources of education, from the arts to nature.” Throughout my study of the case for and against technology integration, I’ve come to firmly stand behind the “both/and.” Computers are both incredible tools for education, and impediments in the way of learning. Interactions with nature are both essential for development and not the only path toward healthy development. This echoes what I believe about teaching as a whole: there is no silver bullet, single strategy or tool that works or doesn’t work for everyone. After my study, I feel optimistic about balancing my passion for educational technology with all that’s valuable about the unconnected world.

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