One of the most fascinating things about running this robotics club is watching kids figure out how to work together.  The mantra about 21st century learning is that cooperation and collaboration are at the top of the list, because things like cloud computing make it possible to do across time and space.  But working together is a really hard, especially for girls who are smart and used to achieving individually.  I’ve watched kids bickering, individuals doing all the work, individuals complaining that “no one is helping”, people wandering off from the group, and people getting frustrated.  It’s all part of the process.  I spend more time talking to kids about how to work together than I do talking to them about how to build a robot.

Some of them literally don’t know how to work as a team.  I find this interesting, though not unexpected.  They’re young; they’re not asked to do this very often.  And they don’t actually see the end goal very clearly because they’ve never done this before.  They’re all trying.  So although I hear complaints and see bickering, those are their ways of trying, so I talk to them about better ways to communicate, how to delegate.  I’ve seen kids make great strides.  Students who were bickering a couple of weeks ago now delegate work to the rest of the team.  And I find it kind of fun to try to come up with ways to help them work together.

I can’t emphasize enough how important I feel this skill is.  In the “real world,” we all have to work with people we don’t like or don’t agree with.  If we just worked with people we liked, we’d never accomplish anything. Am I perfect in this regard? No.  But I work really hard at it, because I think it’s important in order to achieve things within an organization, even as an individual.  Very little that I’ve done has been accomplished without some kind of help, directly or indirectly.  I hope to teach my students this as well.  We’re all in this together.  Working together is how we are going to solve the problems we face.

 

Last week, I was chaperoning the annual 7th grade trip to camp.  As part of the trip, the camp staff put our students through several challenges that emphasize working together to achieve a common goal.  It occurred to me that while I value these kinds of challenges greatly, I don’t do enough of them in my classes.  It’s quite difficult to do, really, even though from the outside it seems easy.  Fewer papers/projects to grade, at the very least.  But really, to get them to come out well, the project has to be structured pretty well, making sure that its completion requires participation from every member of the group.

The other barrier to doing them, for me, is that I want to make sure that each individual student learns the concepts I’m trying to get across, and there’s always a fear that if, for example, I let groups of students work on a video project together, some kid will shirk her responsibilities and won’t learn anything.  We also kind of live in an environment, both at school, and in general, that emphasizes individual achievement.  That’s hard to get away from.

But, that all being said, I came up with a project idea for my 7th graders that is a) a real thing the school could use; and b) a group project.  I’ll say more once it’s underway, but let’s just say for now that the respond from Mr. Geeky was “Oooooh, that’s a good idea.”

I’m going to keep thinking about ways to put more group work into my classes.  My experience this past week indicated that it’s a really important part of learning.

Over my vacation, I read Traffic by Tom Vanderbilt. I picked this book up because Mr. Geeky and I got into an argument about driving in traffic. Specifically, he did not like the way I was driving in traffic on I95. This, as well as issues around map reading, is our main argument these days. I’ve learned to read while he drives so I don’t notice.

Anyway, I hadn’t taken any books with me to the beach, so I popped into a local bookstore and picked up whatever struck my fancy. This was the perfect book to read after navigating 95. It also had some insights into my own work. I know what you’re thinking–you learned something about educational technology in a book about traffic? But it’s true. You see you might think that traffic is about cars and roads and tolls and signs, but it’s not. It’s about people. People make traffic. A couple of key insights in the book are that a) people don’t really cooperate much while driving; they’re in it for themselves and b) even if they want to cooperate, they don’t know exactly how.

The first insight was the one I found most interesting for my purposes, although the second was also fruitful. When we’re driving, we’re focused on getting from point A to point B. We’re in our cars. We can’t easily make eye contact with each other to signal, for example, that you’d like to squeeze into that space just in front of you if you don’t mind. As Vanderbilt puts it in a nice interview posted on the Amazon site:

people are more likely to cooperate with one another when they can make eye contact. When we don’t have it, when we become anonymous, we not only lose some of that impulse towards cooperation, we seem to become susceptible to all kinds of behavior we might not otherwise engage in. In most driving situations, of course, we lose eye contact, and have to make do with our rather limited vocabulary of traffic signals.

What does this have to do with higher education, especially technology and higher education? Most of my communication occurs via email or over the phone and not face-to-face. This allows both me and the person I’m communicating with to feel like we can be a little ruder than we might otherwise. I might get defensive about my time. They might get defensive about theirs. We both dig in our heels and no work gets done. Also, miscommunication can happen. I might think someone is asking for one thing, but they’re really asking for another and vice versa. But also, I think, there’s a lack of “signage” or “vocabulary.” While I continue to live in the world of the academic–understanding tenure, trying to understand faculty work flows, areas of research and more–I feel that faculty often don’t understand my world, both its vocabulary and its context. It’s as if my signs are in Japanese with no English translation available. So how to fix this? In traffic, I’m afraid, there’s not much chance of providing more eye contact, but that’s easy in my world. It’s more time-consuming to visit people in their offices, to try to catch people around campus, but I think the payoff is better. As for the “lost in translation” problem, obviously I can do some translating in face-to-face situations, but I can also continue to provide information to help people navigate in my world.

Speaking of anonymity, Vanderbilt also covers the the issue of road rage, which he theorizes has to do with a general increase in narcissism:

[Psychologists] find, as time goes on, more people are willing to say things like “If I ruled the world, it would be a better place.” Traffic is filled with people who think that roads belong only to them — it’s “MySpace” — that being inside the car absolves them from any obligation to anyone else. People are glad to tell you that their child is a middle school honor student — as if anyone cared! — but they deem it less important to tell you what they’re going to do in traffic.

I’d say this is a general tug-of-war we all experience, but which may be prolific in higher ed. That is, we feel a sense of our selves as important, as perhaps more important than anyone else and so pursue a path that benefits primarily ourselves versus feeling a sense of our selves as part of a larger whole, as contributing to the greater good in some way and so pursue a path that benefits others. In traffic, this tug-of-war may play out by first, cutting people off, driving too fast, etc. When feeling more magnanimous, we might allow a car in front of us, keep a safer distance between us and the car in front of us, or generally drive more slowly. In higher ed, I see two things happen. One, there are plenty of people walking around with a lot of ego (I’m not necessarily saying I’m not one of these people). These people are the equivalent of the overly aggressive driver. Two, there’s the definition of the larger whole to which someone might contribute. As a staff member, I’m more likely to see that larger whole as the institution or perhaps a collection of similar institutions. A faculty member might see the larger whole as their field and not as the institution. Students, I think, are focused primarily on themselves although many of them contribute to a larger whole that’s even bigger than the institution–politics, fighting poverty, improving inner city schools, etc. There’s a conflict then, not only between individuals as egotistical or not, but also between those who are genuinely trying to do good things about what those good things are.

There’s a lot more that I could say about the relationship between traffic behavior and the behavior I see every day, both from myself and from my faculty, but I’ll spare you the details. But think about these few things:

  • When you’re driving, it’s hard to tell how well you’re doing. There’s very little feedback and most people are worse drivers than they think they are. In many areas of higher education, there’s also a lack of good feedback. In driving, one can be made aware of how good a driver one is by installing some simple monitoring equipment. I suspect that monitoring is not something that higher ed will embrace quickly.
  • Doing something that benefits others rather than doing something that just benefits you actually makes the whole system better, including for you!
  • We are more distracted than we think we are.