rat race

Merriam-Webster’s Online Dictionary defines Rat Race as: strenuous, wearisome, and usually competitive activity or rush.

UsingEnglish.com defines the idiom Rat Race as: the ruthless, competitive struggle for success in work, etc.

I’ve read on blogs, nings, and tweets of the importance for me to build my Professional Learning Network. I’ve heard in lectures, meetings, and conferences of the importance of engaging within a community of learners. All that sounds great, but in practice, with all this technology, I can’t get away from the fact that it all seems like a rat race.

Who’s the first to be doing . . . in their classroom? Well, they’re on top of things, and we should be emulating them because that’s also what the kids (and, gasp, even the adults) are doing outside of the classroom – in the “real world.”

Who was the first to tweet about . . .? Well, that person gets more credit than anyone else in the entire community of tweeters who also had a hand in spreading . . . And we should all be following . . . because they tweet 400 times a day about everything they’re reading, or inspirational sayings, and they’re doing . . . in the classroom, so they’re an innovator.

Who was retweeted most on . . . because they obviously know what they’re talking about when it comes to . . .

Who is on the most #followfriday lists, or #teachertuesday lists, because you know you really do need to be following those people, because they pack so much into 140 characters on . . . that they must be an expert.

Who participates in the most #edchat discussions, or #TTT podcasts? And who asks the question that everyone is talking about in the discussion, because that person is clearly asking the right questions to their students, and that means their students are going to be smarter than . . .

Who created the . . . ning? They have gathered some great minds together and people really are talking about . . . on the site and more people should be reading and listening to and watching what’s going on there.

Did you read what . . . wrote on his blog? Did you hear who now has a blog? My goodness, I’ve been waiting for years to see what . . . has to say, and now they’re giving it to me for free, in an amazing format, and they have links and profiles and I feel like I know . . . so much better, and now I can gain so much more from their PLN too.

I’m tired of all this . . .

The world is changing. Communication is changing. Learning is changing. Education is changing. All of that seems wonderful. I am only in my fourth year of teaching, and the last three years have been as part of an eMINTS classroom with rich technology use, so maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about, but it sure seems like education is a rat race.

I teach in a K-8 school, and the unwritten competition I witness on twitter, and then through blogs, nings, podcasts, and videos, seems like a race to be first at . . . You fill in the blank. I witness the same competition when I listen to my students talking about . . . in the hallways, lunchroom, and gym: whoever was the first at . . . wins an invisible crown of cool, until the next big thing rolls around. And the next big thing in the grand scheme of things isn’t that big at all, unless looking with that short-sided obsession that blinds one from all other perspectives.

I don’t want to compete. I’m really not good at competition. Usually I become increasingly nasty and mean, and I feel ugly inside because of it. Winning is supremely important to me, but it never feels that good. Losing makes me feel like an absolute waste, literally, and I usually want to throw myself away afterward. And that’s how I’ve felt the past few days as I attempted to actively participate in whatever community I was a part of out there (or rather, here) in cyberspace. No matter how much I read, no matter how many comments I left or posts I added, I never felt good about this whole thing. I felt overwhelmed, then rushed, then tired. I felt like I was part of a rat race.

I told myself, “I want to keep up with . . .” and “I’m as good as . . .” and “I’d like to try . . . in my classroom.”

I had bought in, but now I want a refund. The innovation and information will never end. The desire to keep up probably won’t either; I’m human after all. I can't just walk away though; I need to respond. Here’s my early attempt:

I don’t want to be an overnight expert at anything that is trending overnight. If that’s how long it takes to become a trend, it will probably be gone just as fast. I want to be a scholar at something that has been around long before I came into existence, and will be around long after I leave this world. There are lots of definitions for “digital divide.” My defined divide is between those who engage in multiple and pervasive technologies and those who don’t. I want to be ok with this divide, and not feel like I am less of a human being, man, teacher, or creative mind because I don’t engage in multiple and pervasive technologies.

And that’s where I stand, for today.