Last week this gif was popular in the surf media:
Last week this gif was popular in the surf media:
… won’t it be strange when we’re all fully grown?
I couldn’t predict the year 2000, even in 1995. I had no idea I’d be ringing in the new year behind a bar in Belfast while studying to be a marine biologist. The thought of living in Indonesia, Japan or China had never entered my mind, never mind the notion that I’d be raising a cross-culture family in international schools, or that so much of our lives would be shaped by travel and the internet. My barely-myelinated teen brain was busy enough navigating embarrassment-avoidance, dodgy hair and GCSE’s.
Disco 2000 popped back into my head (and wouldn’t move, thank-you), as I was reading Hans Rosling’s wonderful #Factfulness. As we form our worldview, it is often shaped by early experience; genuine conceptual change takes some effort and cognitive dissonance. I wondered how the world has changed since my own worldview had first formed, and how the countries I have lived in compare now to the UK back in 1995 or 2000.
"I love critical thinking and I admire skepticism, but only within a framework that respects the evidence." @HansRosling on #vaccinations, chemophobia & more in #Factfulness. #IBBio #IBTOK https://t.co/rWZu0dfP7V
— Stephen 🌏 Taylor (@sjtylr) May 4, 2018
The world we are in now is far from my 15 year-old reality and the future is possibly even more uncertain now than it was when I was singing along to Pulp: make sure you read Aloha’s post on the agile learner in the VUCA (volatile, uncertain, complex, ambiguous) world. As the Roslings state in their book, “the world can be both bad and better“. We can educate for hope, not despair, but we need to ensure that through factfulness, our programme frameworks and position of privilege we can help create the conditions for knowledge-rich inquiry that connects the Global Goals to sophisticated learning. We didn’t need to worry about this in 1995, did we?
Now we’re approaching 2020 these aren’t 21st Century skills, they are now skills. We can’t accurately predict the future, but we can temper our learners, developing wayfinding global citizens that maintain a positive outlook. Take the Global Ignorance Test here.
This is important learning from the Roslings’ work, helping to break the us/them, west/rest view of “otherness” that we can tend to in our world view. See also Dollar Street, an interactive way to develop IMaGE through peeking into the lives of others like us.
I’m really looking forward to connecting with more IB educators on discussing this book. The presence of the word “fact” can cause a knee-jerk reaction in some, a misconception on the title perhaps, but this book is more about high-quality inquiry than many I have read.
In our positions of great privilege in international schools, we owe it to our learners to ensure they are not ignorant of the world. We can achieve this through factful inquiry: lines of inquiry that rely on data, real perspectives and avoiding the danger of the single story. We can move beyond stereotypes,
I want my own children to be empowered as knowledgable investigators, creative problem-solvers and open-minded wayfinders. We’re already using Dollar Street at home to look into lives aroud the world (comparing our “halves” of Indonesia and the UK, for example).
Check out Rosling’s statements on education at the end of the book. If you have read it and want to chat more, come on over to #Factfulness.
"Please return your brain for a free upgrade." #Factfulness is packed full of great stories, techniques & provocations for purposeful #inquiry (& ATL). Looking forward to more IB educators reading it. Using https://t.co/uxsjtWGiAf right now with Anya. #IBChat #MYPChat #EdChat pic.twitter.com/CHhlwXOBSw
— Stephen 🌏 Taylor (@sjtylr) May 4, 2018
Since the original post in early 2016, we’ve made some progress, experienced some great successes and uncovered some further challenges. Enthusiasm is building behind Interdisciplinary Units (IDU’s), though there is still work to be done. I’ve updated the flowchart below to show some other “ways in” to IDU planning, and for potential inclusion in MYP IDU support materials. The pdf version has live links to supporting documents.
Twitter is an amazing tool for building a PLN (personal learning network), but as you follow more accounts the main stream can be too fast/distracting to follow, and dipping in at random times is inefficient. Tweetdeck is ideal for curating your feeds: create a column for each topic of interest. Here’s an ugly image for an overview. It’s also great for keeping up with rapidly-moving feeds (such as twitter chats or breaking news).
Some MYP-related Hashtags/Accounts you might want to put into columns. Copy everything, including OR. As you follow more accounts, you can see the kinds of #tags they are using.
Update: here’s a short tutorial video by Dan Klumper (@danklumper)
Over the last few years as a science teacher and coordinator I’ve been thinking a lot about how we might create a culture of thinking that balances vigorous and challenging outcomes with student co-creation (or navigation) of inquiry, particularly where there might be high-stakes terminal assessments looming. The “Curriculum as a compass, not a calendar” metaphor* helps me wrestle with these ideas.
This one has been brewing a while and is still pretty drafty, so I reserve the right to edit ;> With so much written about inquiry and edtech in recent years, there is likely little new in here, but writing helps clarify thinking. Also, my kids and I love Moana, hence the images and gifs.
*See the “Heritage of the Idea” at the bottom of the post.
The Japanese term Tankyuu (探 究), meaning inquiry, journey, quest or investigation, is a nice fit for this idea. It aligns with a pragmatic definition of inquiry, suggesting that there is a journey worth taking, knowledge worth learning and many paths worth exploring.
It suggests depth and vigour, a level of sophistication that empowers learning, building on (and feeding back into) a solid foundation for the future.
This is no new idea, and has been written about in many different ways. Most recently, in Quest for Learning by Marie Alcock, Alison Zmuda and Michael Fisher, inquiry is presented as a part of a “quest” that is enhanced by effective networks and elements of “gaming” that drive learners. Hop on over here for a review of their book.
If we think of inquiry as a voyage, then we might think of curriculum as a compass – map and compass set. As a map the curriculum outlines the destinations and checkpoints, obstacles and viewpoints. The curriculum outlines the “need to knows” in context (national/international standards), but doesn’t dictate the route to take – or the schedule for the learning. There may be well-trodden paths to lead us to tourist hotspots but there might also be areas uncharted, adventures waiting to happen where the questing learner (co-)creates new knowledge, ideas or outcomes.
The compass holds “true north”, ensuring that whatever the path taken, learners can find themselves back on track, relatively unscathed. The compass can help the tempered self-regulating learner decide “If I’m here, and I want/need to get there, then I have to ______ .” In the PYP context, you might want to read the ever-great Edna Sackson’s post on “curriculum shouldn’t be linear“.
With curriculum as a map and compass, teachers and learners can navigate the “need to knows and where to go’s” with some confidence. They might even be ready to set sail into the blue yonder…
Inspiration? Co-creator? Director? The holder of cultural knowledge (curriculum)? Guide? Instructor? Coach? Confidante? Expert?
As the adults in the room, with a great weight of responsibility, it is likely to be all of the above. The challenge is knowing who needs what and when, helping our own learners find the joy in uncertainty and the fulfilment of doing the hard work of learning to find our way.
With potentially transformative technologies in our voyagers’ backpacks, our quests have the potential for charting new territories, creating new outcomes and connecting across the map.
From productivity to efficiency, creativity to critical thinking, wellbeing to connection, the potential for technologies to really elevate learning is endless, and can amplify (or transform) a knowledge-rich, student-owned learning adventure.
Reach out and connect: it’s a rich world of shared learning and collaboration that can give the voyagers access to learning that might not have been possible otherwise.
SatNav, as wonderful as it can be, has two main flaws. First, it gives “the answer” quickly, even though it might not be the answer we need (and may sometimes lead down a dodgy path). Second, it can be annoyingly fiddly, dominating your thinking when you should be driving the car. As the teacher it can be hard to resist jumping in with the answer (or an assumption) that steals the opportunity for thought, like a satnav giving shortcuts that miss out on the best part of the journey. Similarly, edtech is not always the solution and even in the age of Google our students need to be masters of valuable knowledge.
I like to think about these “get out of the ways” (and I’m sure will add more):
“… it’s seeing where you’re going (in your mind). It’s knowing where you’re going by knowing where you’ve been.”
So there you go. My two cents on curriculum as a compass, inquiry as a quest and ATL skills, edtech and more as navigation tools, using Moana gifs. If you have any thoughts, please add them in the comments below or find me on Twitter.
When I heard the phrase “curriculum is a compass, not a calendar“, years ago, it resonated,
but I couldn’t remember where I heard it, Found it: it was Aaron Duff (in 2014) – and I’d even made (and forgotten about) a graphorism when this account was on my old handle (@iBiologyStephen), a symptom of years of output littered across the web.
— Stephen 🌏 Taylor (@sjtylr) November 14, 2014
Thinking about getting ready to move, my hard drives, blogs and folders are littered with 11+ years of resources, drafts & #EdTech experiments. Some I'd forgotten about, all a labour of love.
— Stephen 🌏 Taylor (@sjtylr) March 18, 2018
In a Twitter exchange on #PubPDAsia I tracked down an even earlier use of it (2008), and found a quote in Research on Second Language Teacher Education: A Sociocultural Perspective, edited by Karen E. Johnson, Paula R. Golombek. It’s amazing what focused search strategies can turn up in the context of a rapidly-moving live twitter-chat!
— Stephen 🌏 Taylor (@sjtylr) November 21, 2017
Now, as I think more about curriculum development and future adventures in high-quality, learner-driven, vigorous (and knowledge-founded) inquiry, I think about the toolkits and strategies we might put in place. Connecting the pieces of the the programmes (MYP, DP, NGSS etc), along with big ideas and frameworks from Bold Moves, Quest for Learning, Cultures of Thinking, Making Thinking Visible, I move closer to the image of the learner (adult or student) as a Wayfinder.
Aue, aue, we are explorers reading every sign
We tell the stories of our elders
In the never ending chain
I’ve added a new page to i-Biology.net to post resources and ideas for MYP Science Crit. D: Reflecting on the Impacts of Science. Some slides are below, but to see the full page, click here.
[IMaGE = International Mindedness and Global Engagment. To see my dissertation & resources on this, click here.]
This post has been sitting in my drafts for a while, and I was reminded to complete it after a question from a student when I was covering a TOK class: “What’s the difference between inquiry and enquiry?”
[tL:dR: Definitions matter in education, especially when a topic is misunderstood or controversial. Using traditional definitions allows for a distinction between purposeful inquiries and surface enquiries. This can help choose the right tools for the best learning and most appropriate time. We can have the best of both.]
I’ve been thinking and writing about this a lot over the last few years, tinkering with and testing definitions that try to capture what makes powerful, pragmatic inquiry learning. He’s my current best effort and if you pick it apart you should be able to recognise the best elements of the classical with an aspiration towards the contemporary (in the Bold Moves sense).
Inquiry is… creative, critical, reflective thought. It builds on a solid foundation of accessible, well-learned knowledge, skills and conceptual understandings, inviting learners to take action on their learning and ask “what if…?”
Although it opens with higher-order aspirations, and closes with an invitation to action, it is anchored by a solid foundation of knowledge, skills and concepts. Knowledge is the stuff we think with: the more we know, the better our questions and stronger our conceptual understandings. This does not dictate a linear approach. It highlights the critical role of the expert teacher who, with subject mastery and pedagogical mastery, can create a true culture of thinking in their class, (co-)creating the moving forces of experience that pull a community of learners through the hard work of building understanding.
An expert inquiry teacher inspires learners to learn lots, learn well and want to learn more. They know what needs to be taught, what has been learned and how to use this as a launching pad for exciting exploration.
Beyond some regional variation*, I find this OUP contrast really useful in developing curriculum, collaborating with teachers and working with students. I suspect that the two terms are conflated in the minds of many (educators and non-educators). Could a clear distinction help?
“The traditional distinction between the verbs enquire and inquire is that enquire is to be used for general senses of ‘ask’, while inquire is reserved for uses meaning ‘make a formal investigation’.” [Oxford Living Dictionaries]*
It helps evaluate the depth of an inquiry in terms of moving into investigation, creation and research, rather than the simple act of “looking stuff up”. Enquiry gives inquiry a poor reputation when inordinate amounts of time are spent on (perceived) “fluff”, squeezing out the opportunities for truly engaging experiences. There is a time and place for enquiry, and I’ve labelled it as “enabling” in the image below.
Quick questions and known answers that have little need to expend mental energy (or valuable time): there are more efficient ways to learn about or find out simple content. The expert inquiry teacher knows which tools to select for the job.
So here’s a little planning mantra I like to hold in my head:
How could you use/adapt some of these questions/provocations to classify your inquiries? (I’ll add/edit over time, I’m still tinkering with these ideas):
Some strategies for taking a question from enquiry to inquiry:
Generate ideas, get the easy stuff out of the way and used it to create better inquiries. If something needs to be learned, learn (teach) it well and check it is understood. Use it to inform stronger lines of inquiry. Put in the hard work of inquiry authentic to the disciplinary/interdisciplinary investigation. Evaluate the learning, communicate and put it to meaningful action.
In the ‘enquiry’ sense, one could just look up a definition and be done with it, but I’ve been wrestling with ideas around purposeful, pragmatic inquiry for a long time (since ULL at Bath), connecting it to recent posts about DOK4 and Transfer, the ‘buoyant force’ of continuum learning and the “quest for learning”. More fundamentally it builds from the pragmatic definition of inquiry (IS Magazine) and investigating effective teaching and learning practices that allow for students to become knowledgeable, reflective, open-minded thinkers and clear communicators.
There is no need for an ‘either-or’ approach to inquiry learning (in the progressive vs traditional sense); a strong inquiry experience develops the modern trivium of grammar (knowledge), dialectic (questioning) and rhetoric (communication).
If you’ve been thinking about this too, let me know in the comments below or find me on Twitter.
— Stephen 🌏 Taylor (@sjtylr) January 30, 2018
*The British vs American usage in the general sense might hold to enquiry vs inquiry (thanks Des O’Sullivan on Twitter), though here I’m trying to distinguish ‘weak’ vs ‘strong’ question-driven learning. Where enquiry might be more common in general use in the UK (Oxford), the ‘i’ form is still used for ‘a formal investigation’ and this is closer to the heart of what we’re trying to achieve in deep learning, authentic to our disciplines. British media will still tend towards ‘inquiry’ for investigation (examples at the Guardian), with ‘enquiry’ for simpler questions (examples at the Guardian). An “inquiry into…” vs “helpdesk enquiries“, if you will. To me, ‘enquiry learning’ is looser, less purposeful and (possibly) ineffective. ‘Inquiry’ in this sense is focused, purposeful and powerful, as intended the IB context (all IB docs use the ‘i’).
This post is a quick recommendation for a very practical resource for teachers, coordinators & learning coaches. “What Does This Look Like in the Classroom? Bridging the Gap Between Research and Practice”, by Carl Hendrick & Robin MacPherson, with illustrations by Oliver Caviglioli, is available in paperback from John Catt (and Kindle). This review is written from the perspective of an international school educator and coordinator.
Make sure you visit the “What Does This Look Like?” website for more posts on these topics, colour images and discussions. It’s a great resource.
The authors have designed a very useful text that can be read in a single sitting and/or dipped into as a reference. I would recommend it in teacher training, and it should be read by anyone responsible for professional learning. Each chapter is written in a Q&A style, with introductory key points, and practical questions each answered by two experts in the field of the chapter (it’s an impressive and credible lineup). They wrap up with a summary of the ‘streamlined classroom‘, with six key practices to create flow. More on this below.
Overall, I found this text accessible, conversational and practical. I really like the format of the chapters and there is a strong focus on what teachers really need to know (away from fluff and distraction). I hope they continue to develop their blog, and look forward to a future edition in a few years’ time. It would be good to see more on international/multicultural classrooms, or even additional chapters for different disciplines.
I’ve listed the chapter and contributors below, with a few of the key issues addressed in the chapter and links to the authors’ Twitter profiles. This book in itself is a great example of the power of Twitter as a PD tool – I have followed many of these contributors for a long time and have a learned a lot from them as a result.
SEN: Jarlath O’Brien & Maggie Snowling
Independent Learning: All contributors
Perspectives on developing independent learners from various contributors. Worth reading and comparing to your own experiences. Creating independent learners through strong development of the approaches to learning skills (in conjunction with solid disciplinary an interdisciplinary knowledge) is a touchstone of a strong IB education.
Conclusion: The Streamlined Classroom (Carl Hendrick & Robin MacPherson)
Distilling their findings into the ‘honeycomb conjecture‘ below, the authors present an idea for an effective classroom to ensure solid foundations of learning and progress. This in itself would make a great introduction to the book as a PD resource, giving multiple entry points for teacher discussion.
I’ve written a lot on here about meaningful, effective, pragmatic inquiry, defining it as “Creative, critical reflective thought, built on a solid foundation of well taught/learned knowledge, skills and concepts that invites learners to take action on their learning and ask “what if…?” . This book and its advice aligns with this definition, giving more concrete practices that help enhance a high-quality IB education. ***
In thinking about how to integrate effective tech use into teaching and learning, I can see potential applications for a streamlined classroom tech toolkit.
* I reviewed Robinson’s very interesting “Trivium 21C” for International School Magazine, here.
** No, Google will not replace knowing: Content & Inquiry in a Google World.
*** International School Magazine article on defining inquiry here.
If you’ve read the book, continue the discussion in the comments below, or find me on Twitter:
tL:dR – practical, accessible, conversational, credible.
— Stephen 🌏 Taylor (@sjtylr) January 13, 2018
This post is a quick review of “The Quest for Learning: How to Maximize Student Engagement” by Marie Alcock, Michael Fisher and Allison Zmuda, published late 2017 by Solution Tree Press. I’m reviewing the paperback version: 122 pages plus foreword by Heidi Hayes-Jacobs, appendices, index and online resources.
It’s written with an eye on its usefulness to a teacher/coordinator/coach in an international IB context, and I’ve posted some tweets about it using the #QuestForLearning hashtag.
Connected reads & resources:
— Stephen 🌏 Taylor (@sjtylr) January 6, 2018
The Quest for Learning is a concise, comprehensive and operable handbook that would be a great addition to the personal toolkit of a inquiry teacher, coordinator or instructional/curriculum/tech coach. The authors lay out the why of ‘questing’, writing the book as a ‘macroscope’ (p10) for looking at the learning process and providing a toolkit (in the form of many useful question sets and tables) for developing powerful questing inquiries. They clearly distinguish questing as a framework for designing learning experiences (in contrast with other more linear models) and build throughout on three central tenets of engagement (p15):
#1 The learner engages with relevant, worthy inquiries and experiences that are interesting or emotionally gripping.
#2 The learner engages in an active, intentional cycle with clear goals and right-sized, actionable steps.
#3 The learner engages in social, collaborative opportunities that grow expertise.
In developing the toolkit for this approach, they guide the reader through three core ‘Design Options’ for co-creating a quest: inquiry (questioning), gaming (including game design as a driver of engagement), and networking (connecting as members or mentors in affinity spaces). They provide numerous concrete examples of quests in development and take care (as in Bold Moves), to ensure the central role of useful knowledge and skills in the process; questing is presented as a vigorous and rigorous pursuit of deeper learning.
The connected, experienced inquiry educator will recognise much of what is presented in the book (including elements of UbD and many connected classroom examples), but the authors have presented an interesting triad of options in inquiry, gaming and networking for creating new and interesting engagements for learners. Their sample questing threads and tables of ‘questing decisions‘ could be useful guides in curriculum and instructional design. Of particular interest to K-12 educators might be the frequent reference to how it might look in Elementary, Middle and High-School situations: how a quest might be adapted or tailored to, over time, give students “roots and wings” (p123).
They recognise a common experience of many teachers who promote rigorous inquiry: that jumping into questing can result in student resistance as “they exert much less intellectual energy when they sit through a lecture or are told exactly what to do and how to learn,” (p99), though they also provide many tools and questions to help generate student ownership and meaning-making. Additionally, the book includes many ideas for the integration of effective technologies in the charting of a meaningful quest, promoting substance over flash/distraction. Questing (or any meaningful shift into learner-centred inquiry) is a shock to the system and will undoubtedly come with an implementation dip or period of uncertainty.
I paused for thought in the networking sections, as the authors presented the idea of affinity spaces for co-construction of learning, sharing ideas and reaching out to authentic collaborators, members and mentors. Where we might worry about a learner-centred experience becoming isolated (or self-centred/selfish), Quest suggests various levels of network engagement and membership that may create community through questing. These network spaces include the physical, “plus”, public, member and mentor, in which learners might take and change roles as the quest requires. This toolkit for the shared experience (including shifting “I can…” statements to “we can…”), might prove worthy in schools seeking to break the mould of learning.
The final section, Demonstrating Learning, focuses on opening the doors to the range of worthwhile deliverables that can arise from a meaningful quest, helping educators think how these outcomes can be planned for, produced, evaluated and reflected upon. Those familiar with Design Thinking (and/or the Design Cycle), will find comfortable connections here. It might also challenge more traditional teachers to open some doors to assessment that meet seemingly ‘locked’ performance outcomes. This is not an approach that requires throwing the baby out with the bathwater – Bold Moves can be small moves, as long as they are intentional.
If you’re interested in developing a modern, inquiry-driven classroom that really helps students develop powerful quests, I’d recommend a copy of the book. A teacher new to inquiry would benefit from their own copy (and a coach), whereas more experienced teachers might read it as a book club or share copies for reference in co-planning.
— Stephen 🌏 Taylor (@sjtylr) January 6, 2018
This book, written with aprogramme-agnostic, standards-based K-12 education in mind would be a useful resource for coordinators and educators in IB schools, in particular continuum schools. As with Bold Moves, experienced IB educators will find huge overlaps here with programme elements, but will be able to draw new ideas, resources and inspirations from their reading. It may help give a new perspective to some units or to develop more genuinely student-driven inquiries. The book is terminology-heavy and so I’d caution against it being given ‘raw’ to a new IB teacher; they have enough jargon to deal with in our own programme documents. Rather a mentor might filter and use some of the strategies and ideas in the book in supporting the development of the novice IB educator (translating it into “IB speak”).
As I read the book, I was struck by how some elements of networking and gaming might help create community, connect with authentic global contexts and lead to the solution-generating and creative, critical inquiry that is held as the gold-standard of successful modern international education.
With an emphasis on active intentional cycles of learning (productive struggle), and feedback, Quest allows educators to see where they need to lead and where they need to co-create learning so that it can become progressively more student-driven. These tools might help coordinators and mentors in PYP Exhibition, MYP Personal Project and any student-designed assessed inquiries.
In questioning, IB educators will connect the essential questions to their own understanding of unit/provocative questions, where “driving” questions in Quest correspond to the lines of inquiry (PYP) or conceptual questions in MYP. Probing questions can support the development of rubrics of understanding (PYP) or achievement in the levels 5-8 bands of the MYP rubrics, whereas the reflective level of questioning connects to interdisciplinary learning, approaches to learning and metacognition.
There is no room for fluff in the Quest for Learning, and in my own various roles I can see how lessons learned in Quest and Bold Moves will help move things forwards. The Quest for Learning complements various IB inquiry cycles, as well as the development of many of the approaches to learning skills, including research, digital citizenship and the ethical use of shared/online resources.
Combining this book with Bold Moves, Curriculum 21 and Ron Ritchhart’s texts, along with parallel reading on school culture, leadership and future education and academic study through my MA, has helped me put together my own toolkit for curriculum leadership, coordination, co-planning and teaching. It helps reinforce my belief that “curriculum is compass, not a calendar” with actionable strategies and as I transition into a new role and context I’ll be seeking to distill this learning and my experience into a transferable toolkit of ideas, strategies and resources.
Coincidentally, the idea of ‘questing’ aligns with our work in developing teacher inquiry goals as a central part of our in-house professional learning; the Japanese phrase tankyuu (探 究) can mean inquiry, quest or journey and our Tankyuu Projects use a project cycle that one might be able to connect to the ‘questing’ of this text.
If you’ve read the book, or have any thoughts, please add them in the comments below or find me on Twitter:
[tL:dR: I liked it, useful in the toolkit of a coordinator, coach or teacher].
— Stephen 🌏 Taylor (@sjtylr) January 6, 2018
At a recent MYP Coordinators’ network meeting we were discussing how – despite lots of moves towards quality control and great efforts by the IBEN team – we still had occasional concerns on the reliability of the received message from online and face-to-face (f2f) workshops. Whether this comes from an unclear message, a side conversation, a misunderstanding across languages or the participant’s personal filter, we don’t know, but it led me to think about what steps might be taken to reduce the likelihood of misunderstanding.
If this is already in the pipeline, I’d love to know more about it…
In the early stages of the MYP/DP teacher’s experience, the coordinator needs to know that the teacher knows the basics correctly, knows how to access the correct information and knows how to correctly operate their guide/criteria or other requirements. As unglamorous as it sounds, this seems to call for a reliable delivery method to build a baseline knowledge; a way to check the guides have been read and understood, with some reliable tasks and worked examples. A new teacher with a well-learned foundation of knowledge and skills in their subject area will be better equipped for interactive, inquiry-driven approaches in their later experiences in workshops and school-based PD.
Over the last decade, Massive Open Online Courses (MOOCS) have become popular: where a university or institution has developed a great set of course materials, they post them online in a structured format for free participation – see Coursera, EdX, Udacity and many more at Class Central. Typically these courses work in self-paced (enrol and get working) or cohort (timed start and end) models. Although it has been estimated that only around 5-6% of participants complete the course they enrolled for, they offer learners the opportunity to try courses at a university level that they might not have access to otherwise. They democratise learning. Furthermore, many of the courses can be verified with an optional low-cost certificate after completing the course and assessment successfully – and this is where I see the opportunity for IB professional learning.
In the current model of IB professional learning, online and f2f workshops are a great way to build a working knowledge of the programmes and make connections with colleagues from other schools. However, they are expensive and many schools have limited resources to support multiple attendees; if a workshop does not have the intended impact on the participant, it can feel like a waste of resources.
What if IBPD developed a series of short content-delivery courses in the MOOC-style so that access to the required, vetted and updated knowledge was open to all? Participants from anywhere with an internet connection could take short courses to update their understanding, at no cost: new teachers, existing teachers, those in IB schools and those who might want to be. Think a course in the style of Google Certified Educator Level 1: it doesn’t need to be ‘taught’ as all the materials are online (subject guides!), but has activities to demonstrate competence in the skills. Similarly, on the path to becoming a Microsoft Innovative Educator you can collect badges & certificates through a personally-relevant pathway.
Anyone could join in, everyone would get the same reliable information.
To get verified/certified, the participant would need a MyIB account. The participant or school would pay a small fee (around US$100 is common on verified MOOCS), complete the assessment and receive a digital certificate. This would be great in supporting in-house professional learning (particularly when guides update). Typically sending one teacher on a workshop costs my school up to $2,000 in workshop fees, flights and accommodation; that’s a lot of potential MyIBMOOC certificates. I’d love to have something like this form part of a differentiated model of in-house professional learning.
Would this model be appropriate for new teachers entering a school? Moving school, country and system can be daunting enough; taking on a full workshop out of context is not always effective. After all, we don’t know what we don’t know, and although we need to get up and running quickly, we don’t usually have great questions until we’ve taught it a while. I’d love to be able to share a couple of ‘learn the basics’ short-courses with incoming teachers, to relieve their stress and help them tune in to their new programme.
What if completion of an entry-level MyIBMOOC was required for registration into a workshop? Would this reduce the impact of inappropriately-placed workshop participants on the workshop outcomes? As the demand for IB workshops increases, it puts more pressure on the stellar work done by the IBEN team. Would this model reduce pressure on the WSL pool and ensure participants are at the right starting point to move forwards with the group effectively?
What design specifications might make this model work? Here are some to get started. If you think of more, please add them in the comments below, or find me on Twitter.
What do you think? If this is already in the pipeline, I’d love to know more about it…
— Stephen 🌏 Taylor (@sjtylr) December 16, 2017