Showing posts with label thinking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thinking. Show all posts

Monday, January 18, 2016

structures instead of processes

"Better structures lead to better work. People who care can magnify their impact by building structures that bring in more people who care."

I'm all about better work, but I tend to think of better work as a result of better processes. I've been a huge fan of identifying processes that lead to greater efficiency, but I'm definitely at fault for not bringing in more people who care. I'm guilty of thinking of myself or my team only, of not branching out or bringing in. When I think of processes, instead of structures, I think of reproducibility or replaceability (if either of those are words). I think of replacing one individual with another, applying the processes to the same situation. But as I listened to Seth Godin's book, Linchpin, I developed a deep philosophical problem with processes that allow for people to be viewed as cogs, easily replaceable with another cog following the same processes. For efficiency sake, maybe it's okay to assess some situations within the realm of processes, considering the best practices to become most efficient. At some point in that spectrum though, there must be a tipping point at which people are no longer the replaceable entity, and the move is made to robots, allowing for the ultimate replacement of the individual. That's a different discussion though, I think.  

So, back to structures instead of processes. It's good to be challenged in my thinking. Scaling up might not be Seth Godin's go-to topic, but it is something that he has written about. Anyway, the second sentence in the top quote, the part about bringing in more people, makes me think of scaling up within a structure. If I can identify a better structure, rather than a process, and bring in people to fill out that structure, allowing for growth, then the impact can be magnified. This is a different way of thinking for me. 

No more thoughts about simple processes that allow for people to be easily replaced. I want to work for better structures that can bring in more people to magnify impact. That's a much more inclusive principal, rather than exclusive. I like that a whole lot better. 

Sunday, January 17, 2010

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.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

watching soccer on Sunday

It’s Sunday afternoon, but it still seems like morning for me. I didn’t get out of bed until 12:00. I woke up at 11:00, but just stayed in bed and thought and prayed. Tomorrow, thankfully, we’re back to the old grind. It will be much better for me to be on a schedule; schedules are good for me. When I was thinking this morning I couldn’t get past some people that are on my mind, and the fact that I want to be a voice for change. There’s no use just existing, day in and day out, and there’s no use being satisfied with friends and coworkers who are dissatisfied or unhappy with the way things are. Maybe I’m not an “agent of change” but I can at least be a voice for it. I think I would enjoy that.

I’m supposed to be getting a treadmill today from Charlie. I’m pretty excited about it, but I’m not sure how I’m going to get it in the house. I have a feeling this will be another one of those scenarios where I look like a complete moron; I’m going to have a treadmill hanging out of the back of my Jeep, with ropes attempting to hold things down and keep it safe, but basically only a show. I am confident that everything will work out, but it will be very ugly. Stay tuned for pictures.