Tag Archives: self

End Of Year Assessment 2014-15

ScalesAs has been my practice in the past, I recently unleashed an end of year survey on my students, with the aim of having them tell me what I can improve, and what they appreciate and enjoy. The survey, which can be viewed here, was relatively short, and focused primarily on overall feedback on our ICT program and its delivery, as well as thoughts on our new Free Learning pedagogy, which we have been piloting this term. I really want to give my students a sense that what I ask of them is only what I do myself: do some work, assess the work, see how we can improve, make changes to improve.

Embedded below is an analysis of the results received, including plenty of graphs, comments from students (both positive and negative), as well as my own conclusions, thoughts and targets. If you prefer a less cramped view, use this link.

At the end of this document is a list of 6 targets that I will aim to implement in the coming school year. These are summarised in the visual below, which aims to give students a quick look at the changes their comments will inspire:

ICT Targets 2015-16

All of this information will now be distributed to students and parents, and I will begin making plans to try and ensure that these targets are met during the coming school year.

Credits: thumbnail image by Steve Harwood on Flickr shared under CC BY-NC

Assess This Teacher

Gress LessonYesterday I put together an end-of-year survey for my students. Instead of focusing on lots of questions on different aspects of my teaching, I simply asked students to grade me in the same way I grade them: a comment, an attainment score and an effort score. I also asked them to tell me their most and least favourite projects. The response was immediate, with 50 submissions in less than 12 hours (out of a possible 150 students). A quick scan of the data showed a good mix of positive feedback and things I could improve on. Some of these things I already knew, others were revealing.

I really want the kids to know that I am serious about becoming a better teacher, so I acted fast to analyse the data and make a list of things that will be changed come next year. These include the following:

  • My teaching style:
    • Talk less in class, giving students more time to work
    • Give students more time to explore ICT individually (this will most likely take the form of more free time at the end of lessons where students have focused well.
    • Give students more time to work outdoors (we can hold discussions on the lawn, and students can work spread around school).
  • Curriculum design:
    • Introduce a new, improved and less resstrictive visual assessment guide. There will be less self assessment (2x per year instead of 4), and a new chance for peer assessment once a year.
    • Instead of giving attainment grades, I will experiment with just saying whether students are: knowing, doing, understanding, judging or creating. The focus will be on being a better learner, and not obssessing about grades so much.
    • In Year 7 I will seek to make the Tools For Learning unit more interesting.
    • In Year 8 I will get rid of the High Tech Stuff assessment task, and try to make the year more hands on.
    • Year 9 – I will add in a unit on mobile app development, as many students enjoyed the Web Design 101 in Y8 this year and would like to learn more. However, for those who don’t like programming, there will be a choice to do an independent unit if there is something a student would rather learn.

Hopefully my students will see me modelling what I ask of them (try something, assess your performance, find ways to improve, follow through), and understand that I really do want to be a better teacher, and do myself what I expect of them. No one likes a hypocrite, right? In order to try and stick to these goals, I have added the curriculum ideas into my plan for next year, and created the poster below to remind me of what I need to be focusing on:

My Pledge 201415_web

Hard Lesson #11: Guns are not glorious

ExecutionHaving been invited to read to a class of students for reading week, I looked for a chance to work with a group of older students who I have not taught in two years. The Y11 group I wanted to work with stuck in my mind because so many of the boys were obsessed with guns and violent video games. This seemed a perfect fit for one of the 12 Hard Lessons: guns are not glorious.

To approach this one I chose to read from a book of first hand accounts from World War I: Max Arthur’s Forgotten Voices of the Great War. This amazing book, which is part of a series, gives a history of the war as a collage of first hand accounts taken from the Imperial War Museum. I read two individual accounts, one by a German soldier who had bayoneted a French soldier, and another by a British soldier who participated in the execution of a deserter.

These two passages are very intense, and I was actually quite emotional reading them aloud in front of 20 students. I think the students picked up on this, and the room was perfectly still. As way of introduction I told students that whilst they may enjoy glorified violence, the truth is far from glorious, and I wanted them to understand and feel this. I think the result of this session was not a teacher preaching “guns are bad”, but a chance for students to really appreciate why guns are not glorious.

Credit: execution image by Underwood & Underwood via Wikimedia Commons, under PD.

Friends Without Benefits

Holding HandsWhat Facebook, Twitter, Tinder, Instagram, and Internet Porn Are Doing to America’s Teenage Girls

This is an abridged version of the full article from Vanity Fair. It has been prepared for educational use with students in lower secondary school (ages 11-14). Inserted at times are (hopefully provocative, discussion-inducing) questions for consideration by teachers and students. Some educators may find this material too risqué or difficult to approach, and in some places teachers may face strong pressure to not discuss such material. However, if teachers are not tackling such issues, then who is?


 

This year, 81 percent of Internet-using teenagers in America reported that they are active on social-networking sites, more than ever before. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and new dating apps like Tinder, Grindr, and Blendr have increasingly become key players in social interactions, both online and IRL (in real life). Combined with unprecedented easy access to the unreal world of Internet porn, the result is a situation that has drastically affected gender roles for young people. Speaking to a variety of teenaged boys and girls across the country, Nancy Jo Sales uncovers a world where boys are taught they have the right to expect everything from social submission to outright sex from their female peers. What is this doing to America’s young women?

Questions: To what extent is this an American phenomenon? If social networking is less popular where you are, why? And how long, if ever, until things change?

The Tinder Guy

She wanted it to be like the scene in the Lana Del Rey video for “Blue Jeans”—“hot and slow and epic.” The scene where strangers meet and fall into an easy intimacy, making love in a pool—“and they look so hot and it’s just, like, totally epic.” A boy at her school—she didn’t want to talk about him now; he’d broken her heart; but “like, whatever.” She’d “deleted him” from her phone. “I was stalking him too much, seeing him doing fun things on Instagram, and it hurt.”

They’d been instant-messaging on Facebook, and one night he told her he loved her. And then “I found out he was talking to, like, four other girls.” And now she wanted to do something to get over it, maybe to get back at him. “I mean, I should have known. All men are basically whores.” When he didn’t turn out to be her “true love”—“like Bella and Edward, or Bella and Jacob, you know?”—she decided she had to “lose it to someone,” so why not with someone she would never have to see again? And yet, she hoped it would somehow be like the Lana Del Rey song. “I will love you till the end of time,” it goes.

The guy she was supposed to meet that day—the guy from Tinder, the dating app kids were using to hook up—“I know, like, five guys who’ve done it; girls use it too, but they pretend like they don’t”—he was cute and had tattoos on his arms. He looked “James Franco–ish,” but younger. On Tinder you could meet people in your age group. She was 16; he was 17.

Alone in her room, the night before, reading her friends’ Twitter feeds and watching YouTube videos (Selena Gomez and “baby animals being cute”), she’d started feeling lonely, restless, and bored. “Sometimes I just want to talk to a guy so bad.” So she downloaded the app and started swiping through the pictures of boys in her area. She “hearted” his picture, and within a few minutes he had hearted hers, and then they were instantly texting.

“Ur hot,” he wrote. “U wanna meet?”

“When?”

They arranged to rendezvous at a shopping mall in Los Angeles not far from the neighborhood where they lived. “Of course it was going to be a public place. And if it turned out he was really some gross old man, I’d just run away.” But there he was, standing by his car, looking almost like his picture. . . . Almost. There was something different about his face—it was “squishier. Like, he was almost fat.” But now here they were, and she didn’t know quite how to get out of it.

He smiled and kissed her on the cheek. He smelled of Axe Body Spray. She was sorry she’d spent so much time getting ready for this. “I even waxed,” she said. He wanted her to get in his car, but she knew she shouldn’t. They started walking around the mall, “talking about nothing, nothing. It was awkward, totally weird.” He asked if she wanted to sit down, but there was nowhere to sit except in restaurants, so they wound up going inside a Pottery Barn and making out on a couch. Later she posted something on her Tumblr blog about the difficulty of finding love.

Wheeling In The Bitches

“Gotta wheel the bitches in. Gotta wheel the bitches in,” said the teenage boy on a city bus in New York. “Nowadays you can do it so easy. There are so many apps and shit that just, like, hand you the girls. They don’t even know that’s what they’re doing, but really they’re just giving teenagers ways to have sex.”

This year, 81 percent of Internet-using teenagers in America reported that they’re active on social-networking sites, one of which is Tinder, a mobile dating app that teens use to hook up.

Questions: Were the girl and boy in the above stories looking for the same thing, or something different? How are boys and girls depicted differently? In your experience, is this a realistic representation of males and females?

Sex, Lies & Social Media

If you’re between 8 and 18, you spend more than 11 hours a day plugged into an electronic device. The average American teen now spends nearly every waking moment on a smart phone or computer or watching TV. This seismic shift in how kids spend their time is having a profound effect on the way they make friends, the way they date, and their introduction to the world of sex.

Kids have always been interested in sex, of course; but there have never been more ways for them to express that to one another, at any moment of the day, no matter where they are. They don’t even have to be together, and often they are not. “You can be sitting in class getting a boner ’cause some girl is texting you” said a boy in L.A. “It’s kind of distracting.”

As quickly as new social media appears, teens seem to find ways to use it to have sex, often sex devoid of even any pretense of emotional intimacy. There’s sexting, and there’s Snapchat, where teenagers share pictures of their bodies or body parts; on Skype, sometimes they strip for each other or masturbate together. On Omegle, they can talk to strangers, and sometimes the talk turns sexual. And then there is Tinder, where kids can meet each other on their phones. “It’s like Grindr used to be for gay guys, but now kids are doing it,” said a girl in L.A. “No one cares about anything but how you look.”

Questions: Is the sentiment expressed in the line “No one cares about anything but how you look.” heightened by social networking? Is it a good thing?

“We don’t date; we just hook up,” another girl in L.A. told me. “Even people who get in a relationship, it usually starts with a hookup.” Which can mean anything from making out to having sex. “When you have sex with a guy, they want it to be like a porno,” said a 19-year-old girl in New York.

Questions: What happens when young boys learn about sex predominantly through online pornography? Consider the idea that “learning about sex from porn is like learning history from Hollywood movies”.

The Girls At The Grove

“Social media is destroying our lives,” said the girl at the Grove.

“So why don’t you go off it?” I asked.

“Because then we would have no life,” said her friend.

The girls had been celebrating a birthday at the busy L.A. mall, and now they were on their way home; they carried bags of leftovers from the Cheesecake Factory. There were four of them: Melissa, Zoe, Padma, and Greta. They stopped to sit down and talk awhile at an outdoor table.

They were pretty girls with long straight hair—two blonde, two brunette, all aged 16. They wore sleeveless summer dresses and looked fresh and sweet. Greta, they said, was famous—or Instafamous, having thousands of followers on Instagram. She showed me a gallery of her Instapics; some were of her dog and some were of Greta pouting and wearing “the duck face.” Some of her followers, she said, were “random dudes in Italy and Arabia.”

Melissa said, “I have Facebook, a YouTube account. I’ve used Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, Vine . . . ”

“Path, Skype,” Zoe said.

“Tumblr,” said Padma.

“I have a Twitter, but I don’t use it except for stalking other people,” said Greta.

They all laughed knowingly.

“I think everyone does it,” Greta said. “Everyone looks through other people’s profiles, but especially being teenage girls, we look at the profiles of the males we find attractive and we stalk the females the males find attractive.”
“It’s a way to get to know them without the awkward ‘Oh, what do you like to do?’ You already know,” said Padma.

“You can know their likes and dislikes,” Greta said. “‘Oh, they like this band.’ So you can, like, casually wear that band’s T-shirt and have them, like, fall in love with you or something. Or you can be like, ‘Oh, they listen to that music? Ew. Go away.’”

I asked them how they knew when a boy liked them.

“When a boy likes your [Facebook] profile pic or almost anything you post, it means that they’re stalking you, too. Which means they have interest in you,” said Zoe.

I asked them how they made the transition from social-media interaction to real-world interaction.

They blinked.

Questions: Does it matter if social skills online do not transfer to the real world? Are real world social skills still relevant?

I asked if they had boyfriends.

“There’s this boy Seth,” said Greta, “and when he liked my profile picture, I knew it was like, ‘Hey, ’sup, you cute.’ Then we held hands at a party. We were cute. But the one thing I didn’t like about him was he didn’t follow me back on Instagram. Social media causes soooooo much anxiety.”

They all agreed on that.

“The thing with social media is, if a guy doesn’t respond to you or doesn’t, like, stalk you back, then you’re gonna feel rejected,” said Melissa.

“And rejection hurts,” said Padma.

“And then you’re gonna go, like, look for another person to fill that void and you’re gonna move on to stalking someone else,” Melissa said.

“That’s how men become such whores,” said Greta.

“Guys actually take the Facebook-talking situation way too far,” meaning sexually, said Zoe.

They were nodding their heads.

“Like, when guys start a Facebook thing, they want too much,” said Padma. “They want to get some. They try with different girls to see who would give more of themselves.”

“It leads to major man-whoring,” Greta said.

“They’re definitely more forward to us online than in person,” said Zoe. “Because they’re not saying it to our faces.”

“This guy Seth, who is normally timid in real life,” said Greta, “sends girls messages asking for nudes.”

Questions: Why are people less inhibited online? To what degree should our online behaviour match our real world behaviour? Should we tolerate people who are too forward online?

“My friend, she was VC-ing,” or video chatting, “this guy she was kind of dating,” Melissa said. “He sent so many nudes to her, but she wasn’t trusting that he wouldn’t show the pictures to other people. So she Skyped him and showed him nudes that way. He took a screenshot without her knowing it. He sent it to so many people and the entire baseball team. She was whispered about and called names. It’s never gone away. He still has it and won’t delete it.”

Questions: Will those photos ever go away? Is there any way to share such private pictures safely online? Will someone you trust today be trustworthy tomorrow?

I asked if they knew girls who posted provocative pictures of themselves. They all said yes.

“More provocative equals more likes,” said Greta.

“It attracts more guys and then it makes other girls think about doing it just for the attention. They’re attention whores,” said Padma, frowning.

“My father thinks all my photos are provocative,” Greta mused.

“I think some girls post slutty pictures of themselves to show guys the side to them that guys want to see,” said Zoe. “It’s annoying.”

“Girls call them sluts. Boys call it hot,” said Padma.

Questions: How far are you willing to go to get attention online? At what point are you going too far in terms of what you share and how you portray yourself?

Mirror, Mirror

In the video for ”We Can’t Stop,“ Miley Cyrus writhes around on a bed, sticking her ass up in the air. She grinds her ass into the crotch of a woman twerking. She writhes around in an empty bathtub, sticking her ass in the air some more. She appears at the V.M.A.’s twerking into the crotch of Robin Thicke, causing an international sensation.

In the video for ”Summer Fling,“ Willow Smith stares at the nipple of a teenage boy while offering him her phone number. Willow’s 12. She sings about having a summer fling: “It’s just a couple nights, but we do it anyway.” A boy shoots water into a pool party at which Willow and her bikini-clad friends jump on a trampoline, spreading their legs.

“Of course girls want to emulate this stuff,” Kim Goldman said one afternoon at her home. Goldman is the director of the Santa Clarita Valley Youth Project, a counseling service for teens. “Girls talk about feeling like they have to be like what they see on TV,” she said. “They talk about body-image issues and not having any role models. They all want to be like the Kardashians. Kendall Jenner posts bikini shots when she’s 16 and gets 10,000 likes, and girls see that’s what you do to get attention.”

“We’re seeing depression, anxiety, feelings of isolation,” said Goldman. “I think social media is contributing to these things. We have kids who’ve had sex with people they meet on Chat Roulette. At one of the junior highs we work with, we found out there were a few kids engaging in an online orgy. They all signed into a video chat room.” One of their parents walked in on it. “Sex is everywhere. Everything is sexualized.”

Questions: To what extent do students feel that they are influenced by popular culture role models? Do students understand that fame does not equal happiness?

Selfies

“I first started seeing people doing selfies in sixth grade,” said Emily, a senior at a private school in L.A. “Back then everybody was on MySpace. In sixth grade everybody started getting phones and they started posting pictures of themselves, and it was weird, ’cause, like, a lot of the pictures were supposed to look sexy and they had the duck face and we were all, like, 11.”

“Guys do selfies, too,” said Alexandra, a girl at a public high school in L.A. “They post pictures of themselves smoking, like, ‘Look how boss I am, look how gangster.’ They think that makes them hot. If a guy posts a picture in his boxer shorts, people say that’s funny, but if a girl does it, they say she’s a slut. It’s a double standard, but girls still do it ’cause it gets them more likes on Facebook.”

“My little cousin, she’s 13, and she posts such inappropriate pictures on Instagram, and boys post sexual comments, and she’s like, ‘Thank you,’” said Marley, a New York public-school girl. “It’s child pornography, and everyone’s looking at it on their iPhones in the cafeteria.”

Porn & Feminism

Jill Bauer and Ronna Gradus are the co-directors of Sexy Baby (2012), a documentary about girls and women in the age of porn. They went on a research mission to a porn convention in Miami where “they were selling stripper poles to college girls and housewives,” said Bauer. “There were so many mainstream women idolizing the porn stars and running after them to take pictures, and we were like, ‘Whoa, this exists?’”.

“We saw these girls embracing this idea that ‘If I want to be like a porn star, it’s so liberating,’” Gradus said. “We asked, ‘What is this shift in our sexual attitudes, and how do we define this?’ I guess the common thread we saw that is creating this is technology.

“Technology being so available made every girl or woman capable of being a porn star, or thinking they’re a porn star,” said Gradus.

Porn is more available now than at any time in history—especially to kids. Ninety-three percent of boys and 62 percent of girls have seen Internet porn before they turn 18, according to a 2008 study in CyberPsychology & Behavior. Seventy percent of boys have spent more than 30 minutes looking at porn, as have 23 percent of girls. Eighty-three percent of boys and 57 percent of girls have seen group sex online. Eighteen percent of boys and 10 percent of girls have seen rape or sexual violence.

“When it comes to children, there is really nothing to argue about,” Alliston went on. “Kids are defined by our laws as not being able to consent to sex or to using pornography. There are few protections against them seeing it, and some people take the attitude that it’s inevitable and benign. I think a lot of people who make this argument don’t realize what porn today really looks like in terms of how the women are treated.”

Questions: In past decades, pornography was seen as empowering to women, but much of the pornography on the Internet today is very degrading to women. What effect does this have on how girls and women view themselves in relation to sex? What effect does this have on how boys and men expect women to behave in terms of sex?

The Anti-Daphne Movement

“In the eighth grade, I had friend—it was a toxic friendship,” said Daphne, now 19 and in college in L.A. “We got into a fight. I can’t even remember what it was about—probably I had bought the same shoes as her or something. It got really bad, and one of her friends, a guy, decided to make a YouTube video starting an ‘Anti-Daphne Movement.’

“Their goal was to get me to kill myself.

“It was, like, a 10-minute video. He showed a picture of me. He said my name. He recounted all the details of the fight. He said I was ugly and that I should kill myself. He told everyone on Facebook, ‘I’m a member of this movement. If Daphne has ever done anything to you, post about it.’

“It caught on really fast. I had a lot of people writing really mean messages to me and deleting me as a friend [on Facebook]. I had never done anything to these people. At school they would put gross things in my bag, cottage cheese in my binder. It got over all my homework.

“It took three months before I got the courage to tell my dad. My dad got the school to get [the boy] to take the video down. The guy who did it didn’t get in any trouble. The principal was friends with his mom. The principal said I must have done something bad for him to act that way, and I was actually suspended for a few days.

“I didn’t know this boy at all. He was kind of a weird kid. People thought he was quirky and cool. He would say he was ‘brutally honest,’ but mostly he was just rude to people. I had to stay in the same school with him all through eighth grade. I went into therapy for what happened. It’s made me so much more insecure. It’s really hard for me to trust anyone.”

Questions: How often do you stop and think that social media might be used against you? Have you ever considered using social media to target or harm someone else?

Sex & The Soul

What kind of love lives are teenagers headed for after they graduate high school? Sadly, more of the same, according to Donna Freitas, a former professor of religion at Hofstra and Boston Universities. Freitas’s The End of Sex (2013) might as well be called The End of Love. The book studies hook-up culture on college campuses.

But Freitas’s research, conducted over a year on seven college campuses, tells a different story. “Both young women and young men are seriously unhappy with the way things are,” she said. “It’s rare that I find a young woman or a man who says hooking up is the best thing ever.”

She describes the sex life of the average college kid as “Sex is something you’re not to care about. The reason for hooking up is less about pleasure and fun than performance and gossip—it’s being able to update [on social media] about it. Social media is fostering a very unthinking and unfeeling culture. We’re raising our kids to be performers.”

And researchers are now seeing an increase in erectile dysfunction among college-age men—related, Freitas believes, to their performance anxiety from watching pornography: “The mainstreaming of porn is tremendously affecting what’s expected of them.” College kids, both male and female, also routinely rate each other’s sexual performance on social media, often derisively, causing anxiety for everyone.

Questions: What kind of relationships do you want in the future? What kind of relationships do you want now? Is social media something that helps or hinders in getting what you want?

 

Credits: This abridged text utilisies assumed fair-use in presenting this copyrighted material for educational use. The presentation of the material, and the surrounding questions and text are by Ross Parker (https://rossparker.org, @rossparker.org) and shared under a Creative Commons BY-NC-SA license. Hold Hands image by Hilde Skjølberg on Flickr under CC BY-NC-ND.

Dvorak

DvorakI am writing this post on a Dvorak keyboard, and it is slow going. For most of my life, I, like most other people, have used a standard QWERTY keyboard. Despite knowing that this type of keyboard is not optimal for typing fast (many believe that it was designed to slow typists down), I somehow never got around to learning anything better. I first encountered Dvorak whilst volunteering in the computer department at Crossroads in 2001, and I remember the bewildering feeling of typing and making no sense. I am sure it was the manager’s way of keeping pesky volunteers off his computer (thanks, Greg). It intrigued me, and I kept an eye out for one to buy for some time. Never finding on in a shop, I had some students hack one together out of an old iMac keyboard. Despite not using it much myself, it has become a bit of a novelty in the ICT room, and some students seem to really enjoy using it.

What finally made me take the plunge was a student challenging me to a very addictive online speed typing test. More than losing, it was a curiosity about just how fast I could type that really got me going.  So, I ordered a KB Covers keyboard sheath from Amazon, and here I am. The sense of becoming a beginner again is enlightening but incredibly frustrating. My neck is sore and my brain hurts from constantly scanning for the right key. Worst of all, I keep losing the “F” key. A few times to today (like right now, in fact), I have had to rip the cover off, switch input modes, and blast out a bunch of text. The frustration just gets to be a little too much.

However, even within just a few hours, I can already feel my speed and confidence creeping up. Despite the doubts (will I still be able to type on a QWERTY after I master Dvorak?), I am set on sticking it out, to see what it is possible. What this has all driven home, though, is how much an activity can vary by person and circumstance. This has given me a new level of empathy for students who take longer to understand things than their classmates: how deeply frustrating they must find it to not be able to achieve what they want.

This is an experiment I would definitely recommend.

12 Hard Lessons

Stop SignThe following 12 ideas are lessons I think we really should be teaching students to help them become healthy, sane adults. But for whatever reason, they are hard to teach and even harder to learn. How can we get these messages across to students without sounding preachy or just plain weird? Of course, some of these items will be controversial. Colleagues, administrators, parents and students may at various times disagree with the content, or even with the idea of departing from the normal curriculum. However, despite the risks, I think that students really do need to be aware of these ideas, and who else is going to broach them? The question is how…any ideas?

1. Guns are not glorious Violence is ugly, the sound and sight of violent death is terrifying. Yet the media and gaming makes it glorious, and kids (especially boys) buy it wholesale. I went through this as a young boy, and maybe it is just part of growing up. Maybe if I watched The Empire in Africa as a boy I would not have been so keen on violence.
2. Masturbation is OK It is fun, reduces stress and helps us learn about our bodies and preferences. Everyone does it, yet few talk about it, and so kids grow up feeling guilty. I know I did, and it took a long time to work out that it was not “sick” or “wrong”.
3. Your body is a wonderland You might not look like a model, but make no mistake your body is a wonderland. And you only have one. Respect it, love it for what it is, exercise to improve it, look after it. Your body will age quickly, drugs will screw it up more than you can imagine.
4. God may not exist Whether your god is a super-intelligent being, the mystic power of the universe or something else, there is a good chance it may not exist. No matter how much faith you have, we just don’t know. God may be useful, but we need to be open minded about it. And please, let’s stop killing people because their god is not your god.
5. Being gay is OK I can’t imagine growing up and being gay: the feeling of having something to hide must make the shame of masturbation feel like a walk in the park. And yet, being gay is just like being different in most any other way: it is something that should not really matter.
6. Failure is great In school we punish failure, yet teachers almost all know that we learn through failure. What we want to avoid is failure from which no lesson is extracted. Almost nothing of worth is ever created without some kind of failure preceding it.
7. Porn is not sex Pornography may be intriguing, entertaining and arousing, but it is not realistic. You might say porn is to sex what Hollywood is to everyday life: a grotesque caricature full of impossibly beautiful people. But seeing as pornography is so readily available, it is easy for boys and girls to grow up thinking it is a realistic version of sex: they are generally starved of alternative, equally rich sources of information? What happens when you grow up expecting your partner to act like a porn star? What happens when you grow up expecting to behave like a porn star. Certainly this is not how to learn the art of making love.
8. Don’t rush, it’s not a race All kids want to grow up, and kids today want to grow up faster than ever. The sad truth is that whilst adulthood brings certain freedoms, it generally takes away more. On the whole, kids are far freer than adults, and this freedom needs to be enjoyed, cherished and used to its potential. Youth is easiest to appreciate once it is gone.
9. Good grades aren’t “it” You can get good grades, and still fail miserably in the real world. At the end of the day, grades are a poor way of representing some part of a student, and certainly don’t reflect the whole. Let your students know that if they get good grades that is fantastic, but what about the things which aren’t usually tested in school? What about sense of humour, charisma, social skills, passion, creativity and all the rest?
10. School will not make you “world ready” In line with point 9. above, we do learn a lot at school, but we are certainly not ready to face the world when we leave. I am not sure we are ever “complete”, but certainly we are no where near completion at the point of exiting school, nor on leaving higher education. Students expecting this (as I did at 18 and again at 21) will be sorely disappointed when reality smacks them in the face.
11. History is important Of all the subjects I undervalued at the school, history has to be the most important. Maybe at 12 I was just too young to get it, or maybe the pitch was wrong. What I know now is that history is my personal story, and explains who I am and why I am the way I am. It teaches us how not to behave (plenty of role models there), what to expect from life, and the consequences of not sharing and getting along. What could be more important?
12. There is no “normal” The Hollywood/advertising ideal of happy, wealthy, beautiful, funny, amazing people simply does not exist in the read world. At the end of the day, we all have our flaws, and we are all different. There is no “normal”, just lots of variation. Students expecting to be happy all the time in an age of widespread depression is asking for trouble. Students need to feel comfortable being “different”, so they can talk about problems, and learn to deal with them before they escalate.

Credits: Rainbow and Stop Sign image by sandy.redding on Flickr shared under CC BY-NC-SA.

Paradox

SocratesParadoxes are a great way to get student thinking and talking about thinking. The initial state of confusion, followed by the illusive, enigmatic feeling of understanding is somehow enticing and enjoyable. I spent a little pastoral time discussing the following paradoxes with a group of Year 8 students, and the result was a palpable buzz in the classroom.

They are all taken from the excellent list of paradoxes on Wikipedia, and ordered (roughly) in ascending order of confusion generation:

  • Socratic paradox: “I know that I know nothing at all.”
  • Liar paradox: “This sentence is false.” This is the canonical self-referential paradox. Also “Is the answer to this question no?” And “I’m lying.”
  • Ship of Theseus (a.k.a. George Washington’s axe or Grandfather’s old axe): It seems like you can replace any component of a ship, and it is still the same ship. So you can replace them all, one at a time, and it is still the same ship. However, you can then take all the original pieces, and assemble them into a ship. That, too, is the same ship you began with.
  • Sorites paradox (also known as the paradox of the heap): One grain of sand is not a heap. If you don’t have a heap, then adding only one grain of sand won’t give you a heap. Then no number of grains of sand will make a heap.
  • Crocodile dilemma: If a crocodile steals a child and promises its return if the father can correctly guess what the crocodile will do, how should the crocodile respond in the case that the father correctly guesses that the child will not be returned?
  • Barber paradox: A barber (who is a man) shaves all and only those men who do not shave themselves. Does he shave himself? (Russell’s popularization of his set theoretic paradox.)

I and You

ChainWe come unto this earth, shooting head-first blind and wet so much like one link in a chain of boundless length. From this bundle of sopping joy we start, through an unknown life to live, and to the ultimately nameless soil to return. Each one of us the carrier of a unique cargo, an heirloom passed through us down the line of the ever-growing snowball.

By our individual nature, this process barely perceived, our awareness owed to thousands of like and dislike minds to-ing and fro-ing year on year. The same questions asked by all, answered by so few. Why am I here, where did this all come from, where do we go? Each person at the end the same, but each life lived for ones self. I am me, a bubble surrounded by blades, survival paramount. For me alone I toil for food and water and air. To what end? Why of course to carry my cargo, to complete the circle of my link, to join what has come before me to what will no doubt come after. All the while, today is all, an island separated from the bygone by history and from what is to come by chance. The past has come and gone and today, the gentle slope from there to here mutated into a bluff, then and now. The connection missed by so many minds, but felt by each and everybody. But when informed by the words of the great and gone that today is really no different than yesterday, and that indeed yesterday has lead to this day, the apparently jagged link between now and then suddenly flat lines. For now simply becomes a blip, a jump, a skip for me and only me on this great ocean. Now I see that I am the sum of my forefathers, both from my line and others. For sure I have my mother’s nose and father’s hair, but to who do I owe my thoughts? To God? Perhaps. To my teachers? Directly, yes, but in the end, did their thoughts come not from their teachers, and theirs from theirs?. And is it not logical to learn from all those who have come before, and thus be taught. For in every way we are, but for most it is never seen. How can we be sat down to learn history, a dead woman’s story, when history rides and lives through everyone of us. The dates are crammed, the names squashed in, with a little space for remembering action too. But we seem to miss the thoughts, the second chain that ties us all together.

Then the thought; if I am just a blip, and you my friends and you my enemies are too but blips, are you not me and I not you? Where do I end and you start? Certainly with my flesh, your bones, but what of the mind. Are we all linked, joined in grand world union, one global cosmic spirit man. Or are our minds apart too?

But surely this all fades, if I consider that I may be you, and you may be me, should I not strive for us? Perhaps if I considered that I could wake one morning in someone else’s shoes, perhaps then I would help him, feed her, heal them. Perhaps then you would step from your carriage, open your doors and let the masses in. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. But why sacrifice the possessions of my self when I am me and you are you?

And so we struggle on, the rich getting fat and the poor thin, the fat few getting unhappy, and the many thin angry. No change in reality. Wrongs disguised and excused in the name of religion, or imperialism, or divine right. The worker still the slave, the master still holding the whip. The whip becomes the carrot, the carrot the stock option, but all so thinly veiled.

Surely there is another way. A single fire, started from so many sparks, lights the sky a fantastic red. Marx the mind, Lenin the muscle. Why not take the fat and spread it like so much butter, feed all, clothe all, house all. All for one and one for all it begins. The salvation of the poor worth the blood of the rich, no doubt. But once begun, where to stop, who is right and who has the right. Communist Red and blood, sweeping from east to Far East, a noble idea but so much harder to stomach now. The rich rebel from a far, sending in the poor, the muscle the army to rid the world of this evil and put back into place a much corrupted version of the former. The system now a puppet, controlled by those of so much power, so much wealth so much greed. Those who have forgotten that they too will pass as one more link in the chain sliding quickly through the narrow sights of the present. They will not be remembered as good or great or mad or bad, as they surely must see themselves, but tarnished they will no doubt be, for on their hands lies the blood and thirst and hunger of myriad others.

And how do we go forward? By jump and by start, by revolution followed by puppet peace followed by revolution, by endless generations of poor, dispossessed and tortured. Or should we not all together say, I am me, but by odds I could be you? Thus, should we not all treat each other as we wish to be treated our selves? I feel pain, sometimes to the core, so by what right do I inflict pain on the mind, body and soul of another. Is terror by the ruled not identical to terror by the ruling? Is not right and wrong, killing and stealing, the same for you as for me and as for them?

Let then the sword of awaking in another man’s shoes weigh heavy over the head of he who strays from the path of truth and compassion. For I am you, and by turns you are me. Need I say more, other than go with peace and love, my friend, my enemy.

Originally written 23rd August, 2003. Image by Darwin Bell on Flickr, shared under CC BY-NC.

Learning To Surf, Bali, 2007

surfingBali07In August 2007 I took myself off to Bali with the notion of learning how to surf. The following is my journal of that trip, which I just ressurected from my old blog. For some reason I wanted to keep this writing available to me for future reflection.


Day 0 (2007-08-04)

Up early after a whole week that saw a general lack of sleep, I was on the plane by 9am. A stop and change in KL meant I arrived in Denpasar at 5ish. With a small plane and no checked luggage I was out of the airport and in a taxi to Kuta by 6pm local time. I took a walk around Kuta and managed to find the place I stayed when I was here last in 2002. I got the only room left, and was interested to see that the place had grown and a pool had been added.

A little look around the board shops (including Green Bee where I hired a board for my first ever surf) and I had found the board for me. A 7’6″ light green, Primal board. Short enough to carry, long enough to accomodate the fact that I am a total noob.

Food, bed, dreams of drowning in 4 foot of surf.

It’s just me and my new (yet to be named) surfboard on a little trip in Bali. A great chance to relax, unwind and get ready for a new school year of work. Oh yeah, and I need to learn to surf.


Day 1 (2007-08-05)

Waking at 6 (I blame Sha Tin College), I looked out the window to see dark skies and rain. Surfing moved down the list of things to do and I went back to bed. Up agian at 7, and this time things looked better. It was surprisingly cool (coming to the end of “winter”) as I walked down to the beach.

A fairly inauspicious start, under grey skies, shivering in the cool water, but I didn’t get nailed by my own baord. Progress!

After an hour I went in for breakfast (banana pancakes of course). The day saw 2 naps seperated by a great surf (blue skies, reasonable if infrequent sets, and I was able to get up on the face of the wave for the first time), lunch and lots of reading. Loath to say it, but Harry Potter is perfect for holidays.

Last time I came here was two weeks befor the first “Bali Bombing”, and it is interesting to see how things have changed. Things seem a little more laid back, a little quieter and there are far less people sun-bathing topless on the beach.

Other things have remained much the same: super cheap accomodation (HKD$125 per night), cheap food and drinks (HKD$14 for mie goreng sayur and a bottle of Bali Hai), friendly locals (not as pushy these days tho) and beautiful sunsets on the beach.

I am planning on staying in Kuta 2 more nights, then heading up the coast to a quieter beach. To paraphrase a little kid from a Jack Johnson film “there are like, uh, 50-hundred surfers out here” (a lot). Everyone is friendly tho, and it is cool to see lots of locals and girls out surfing.

I have met a disarming number of locals with aussie accents. Hmmm. Bonza!


Day 2 (2007-08-06)

Got out for a paddle at 9:30 this morning, and my arms were leaden. Not quite as bad as when I went surfing with Trent in Curl Curl (Sydney) as I have a bigger board here which makes paddling considerably easier. It seemed heavy going, and things were pretty flat. I got stung by a jellyfish, but not too bad and only on my hand. I am starting to think surfing before 12:00 is not as fun, simply because it is less sunny. However, the surf is often meant to be better in the morning, but I have seen little evidence of this.

I took some time to recover, eat and read before going out for 2+ hours in the early afternoon. The surf was packed, and the waves picked up as time went by. The more experineced surfers were a little further out, where the waves seem to break less consistently but are much bigger. Closer in the waves are much easier to get, expecially if you don’t paddle too quick like me. I started to get the hang of things, and got up on my feet for sustained periods of time once or twice. I guess it was only a couple of seconds, but it felt like a minute at least : )

I am starting to think that being in the water makes people better looking. Perhaps it’s all the salt water I have taken in through my nose, or perhaps there is some truth in it. Lying on my board, looking around, I could not help feast my eyes on all the tight buns, heaving chests and tonned muscles lying and flying around. And that was just the guys: the girls looked even better. I can only think it is the “slick, gleaming” look caused by being wet. I hope it affects me too.

Under Trent’s recommendation I am heading North-West tomorrow to a small beach called Canggu (pronounced Chang-gu). It is rural, so should be pretty different from Kuta. No blog updates will be possible I am guessing. 3 nights there, then I will be back here for two. I have a guy to drive me on a motorbike (helmet including, not like in Vietnam). The booking agent kept trying to get me to take a car, and was confounded by the fact that I would much rather go by bike. It’s an hour each way, so lots of time to check out my surroundings.

Spent some time chatting with an American at a bar last night. His name, was of course Dave (I was expecting one of Dave, Todd, Matt, Mike or Tyler, most likely due to watching too much George Carlin). He has been travelling around the world surfing for a year: South America, Asia, Europe. He is off home tomorrow. Was night to pass the time, and remind myself not all American’s are as crazy as the one’s in the White House. I managed to not ask any leading polictical questions. Figured he gets enough of that.

OK, I’m off to find my dinner. And a cold bottle of Bintang.


Day 3 (2007-08-07)

Last night I was out having a drink, staring blanking at some sports on TV when I met a guy name John. A Canadian. Wish he was called Francois, but he was wearing a Quebec independence shirt, which lent him an air of credibility (in my eyes). At least he had a sense of humor. John and I spent a few hours drinking and chatting about life in Japan (where he lives), HK, books, travelling etc. Nice guy. We got to talking about surfing, and he said he had never tried. We decided that he should take lessons from me the following morning (bad idea). We went out to rent a board (easy enough to do at 11pm in Kuta), which he left at mine (I guess he was not too confident about finding his way home again).

9 o’clock saw John and I walking down Poppies Lane to the beach, as I explained the intricacies of paddling out, catching a wave, drowning, being hit by onesown board and all the rest.

At the beach John procrastinated (smoke, fidget, retighten lease, pray), before we went in. I had heard rumors that things were going to pick up, and they seemed accurate. The water was choppy, dark and foaming. And the main wave out from the beach seem much bigger. I amde sure that John was alright in the foam and set out for the wave. My duck diving is evidently not up to scratch, as I got washed around a lot before finding myself under a monster wave: I took some water up the nose and then decided I best head back and reasses. I spent the rest of the session pissing around in the foam (which was great for learning) and getting up on the board. John broke a fin after getting up and staying up all the way into the beach. The fin caught the sand, ripped away from the board and was never seen again. The official line is that he broke it on a shark.

After breakfast, John and I said our goodbyes, and agreed to meet when I get back from Canggu.

About an hour before setting off, the booking agent came to my room to tell me that there were no bikes available, could I pay double for a van. No. OK, I would pay an extra 50%. My first scent of a scam. The driver (Ketut) was pretty friendly and we made the usual small talk. He had an interesting habit of saying things out the window to very pretty young girls. From the reactions he received, I guess he was not using polite language. Maybe this was for my benefit.

Arriving in Canggu he took me to a low cost resort (still 4 times the cost of a night in Kuta). I asked for something cheaper, but a cursory look around assured me this was the only place near the beach. I decided to stay, but just for two nights.

The surf at Canggu was pretty good, but after my experiences in the morning I decided to have two days of rest and relaxation and continue surfing in Kuta.


Day 4 (2007-08-08)

Yesterday afternoon and evening passed pretty quietly. I slept a little, ate a little and walked for a while on the beach.

The most exciting occurance was that I finished HP and the Deathly Hallows. The last 100 pages are amazing, and it is definitely the best of the lot. Whilst aimed at kids, the lessons on prejudice, love, compassion, open-mindedness and perserverence at suitable for all adults. They are also woven beautifully into the story. I was Confunded with enjoyment.

I have come (once again) to the inevitable conclusion that resorts suck. There is not enough to do, and what is on offer is usually horrible sterile and dull. So I decided to do nothing except eat, read and be massaged.

And then I slept…


Day 5 (2007-08-09)

“And that is when she slipped the small, hot stone under the band of my little, black panties. It glowed hot between my cheeks…”. I guess part of me always wanted to write that, and I got the chance, as it is exactly what happened during my massage this morning. That and losing my upper epidermis under a harsh sloughing of hands and curry paste (I kid you not). Even after a shower I left yellow stains on the towel. But I did feel very clean, and more than a little relaxed.

For George’s benefit: I will show you the picture later, but I am pretty sure I saw the same dog I saw last time I was here. You know, the one with the dangleberries coming out of the kitchen just before I got food poisoning. This time, he was merely lounging around the dining area.

I left Canggu at 12 and was back in Kuta by 1. Man alive I like it here. I know I shouldn’t, but I do. I was treated like a long lost buddy at the desk, and got my old room back at Kedins. I slipped right into gear, waxed my board and loped down to the beach. Having been thinking about things for 2 days, I paddled straight out to the back, where the same big wave was waiting for me. In Canggu I watched some good surfers, and decided it was time to really learn how to duck dive. Being later in the day, the water was lighter, warmer and more friendly. But I still got smashed over, slurped under and spat back out (sans board most of the time). Through good timing, rather than skill, I made it out for some of the good waves. These were waves I could catch (seems a ludicrous term to use), but not hold, as I repeatedly tried to get up and got thrown back down. Each of my efforst to get out were slowed by my inability to duck dive under the broken and breaking waves. After a while, with leash between legs I slunk towards the beach and played around the foam. Much easier (and I can get up and stay up), but a lot less fun. I determined that I would head back to the Boardhouse and ask for advice or duck diving.

A quick lunch, then a trip to the internet place (clutching cashew chocolate bar for support). The Internet (surprise, suprise) has informed me on the correct technique for duck diving, and I am all set to get back out and give it another go.

I hurt, but at least I am not afraid to get back out. Maybe I should be. Maybe that would enhance my chances of living to have children one day.

Just so no one thinks I am a complete pussy reports say todays waves at Kuta Beach were between 4 and 9 foot. Whilst I was out there the guys standing up were about the height of the good waves out back.


Day 6 (2007-08-10)

Yesterday afternoon’s session left me with a very sore head. It felt like too much of the Indian Ocean was sloshing around behind my brow and I kept waiting for it to poor down my nose in a bid for freedom, but it never did. Also, a fin mark on my hand, hole in my knee and lots of little bites saw me feeling in great shape.

The reason for all this pain is that my duck diving has improved, which allowed me to get out to the bigger waves easier, where I promptly failed to do anything except sink, roll and splutter. Still it was fun.

After I mixed morning, I decided to stick in the shallow areas for the afternoon, with the smaller waves. Kind of like the beginner’s slope in skiing. I got some decent action here, and started to get up on the board regularly. Sometimes I even stayed up. Sometimes I did not.

I have decided that I am not going to get enough use out of my board in HK (don’t want to surf in cold water, and the only waves seem to be in winter), so I have arranged to sell it back to the Boardhouse. Will only get half of what I paid back, but it’s better than having it sitting around not getting used. I guess when I end up living somewhere warm with good waves I will end up buying a board: until then I will rent when I get the chance to surf.

Will probably go out for final paddle tomorrow afternoon, most likely on a rental board from the Boardhouse. I want to try a shorter board, just to see what it is like.

I am wondering how long it will be before I stop seeing waves whenever I shut my eyes. It feels like I have been on a junk for a week.


Day 7 (2007-08-11)

Today was spent resting, relaxing, eating and shopping. Last night John and I went out for a few drinks at some of our regular hangouts (Agungs Sport Zone, Kubuku) which we keep going back to because the staff and customers are all so friendly. A part of me has been consistently impressed that the sex industry, so overt across much of Asia, is seemingly absent from the places I have been to in Bali. However, last night we went to Paddy’s Bar, which rest assured was not your average Irish pub. Suffice it to say that all the “comfort girls” that seemed to be absent from Kuta were gathered in this cavernous bar. That and a very drunk, obnxious, off balance, spittle-firing Aussie whose sole conversational gambit was saying “I’m a madman” caused us to make a hasty retreat. I sheilded John from most of the madman’s saliva, at the expense of the left side of my face.

The night ended with us watching England snatch defeat from the jaws of victory against a speedy French national rugby team. No suprise on that. The other channel featured the England cricket squad getting murdered by India.


Day 8 (2007-08-12)

Back to normality today. No more banana pancakes and jafles for breakfast, no more surf and hot beach bodies, no more cries of “transport, moterbike, taxi, t-shirt, hey buddy, my friend, how much, what you want?”. As always at the end of a holiday, I am loath to leave, but ready to get home. It’s been a while since I used soap and had a warm shower. I need a shave (never thought I would have need to utter such words).

It has been a fantastic break, and nice to have some alone time. Also nice to meet some people, renew my acquaintance with the sea, hear some crazy travellers tales, and still be in one piece. Too soon to say this, but this is the first SE Asian trip I have been on that did not see me suffer from some kind of intenstinal problem. I believe being a vege helped on this one.

Farewell Kuta, farewell Bali.