Once in a while there are those days
when everything seems wrong
and nothing seems right

And once in a while there are those days
when my limbs seem heavy
and my patience is thin

And once in a while there are those days
when my sharp brushes become moldy
and my palette knife dull

And once in a while there are those days
when I feel lost and forgotten
and happy memories become unimportant

And once in a while there are those days
when my pleas sound blaring
and silence like judgments

And once in a while there are those days
when I can’t look at people
and am blinded by loneliness

And once in a while there are those days
when the world keeps moving
and my life stays still

And once in a while there are those days
when city lights are no longer uplifting
and from my balcony I look down.

And once in a while on those once in a while days
my once in a while friend comes and finds me
with a nice note
with a pretty picture
with a silly smile
with a wink or a wave

Then, once in a while, there are those days,
when nothing seems wrong,
and everything seems right

As I passed by American Furniture Warehouse on the right (Exit 219), I began thinking about my typical drive on US-85 and the many visual elements that cued me in on how close I was to arriving in Greeley. I always remember the Starbucks that gave me a Mocha instead of a Latte on the right because I didn’t realize it was a mocha until I was already driving, and I almost threw up in my car. I also remember the place where I had to pull over because I (and the truck behind me) ran over something big, causing the plastic molding under my car to detach. (I ended up duct taping it back onto the bumper.)  Then, of course, the tiny Fort Vasquez museum on the left with the cool looking teepee where all the truck drivers weighed their load, and the vigilant police officers hid to catch the reckless drivers who failed to see the speed limit change from 65 to 55. Aya always told me Greeley was 20 minutes from there, but I always knew I was close to my destination when I saw the billboard for my school; the damn billboard on the right that bugged me each time I saw it:

“UNC grads achieve big things.”
(I really hate this billboard. I am certain my school will expel me if I actually added the image directly, but I will provide the link here. I had to laugh when I read, “UNC billboards communicate the university’s key messaging themes through creative headlines and imagery.”)

What big things? What the hell does that even mean?
(I sometimes get emotional during my more or less uneventful journey up north.)

What big thing will I achieve when I write my billion paged research paper?
(I dream of being an Anonymous protester in one of those Guy Fawkes masks, tearing down the billboard in the middle of the night, or a Banksy-type graffiti artist changing the wording so that the ABCDs of the objective were covered.)

As a proponent of clearly defined objectives, as a researcher of higher education, and as a student of Educational Technology, I thought the term, big things, was rather vague. Big things could be a number of things. (What does the school know about my future that I am not aware of?)

Big things could mean money. According to the literature, students with a bachelors degree generally have a higher income than those who only have a high school diploma.

But then, I thought, big things could also be alluding to the rise in student debt: UNC grads achieve big debt.

I chuckled at my thoughts as I passed Exit 228.

Then, I heard Bernard Lavilliers’ 80′s French pop song, “On the Road Again” seeping through my car stereo.

On the road again, again
On the road again, again

Yeah, Bernard (I like to talk aloud, directly to the artists when I am alone in my car), your song is awesome, but why am I on the road again to Greeley when I should be writing Chapter 1 of my dissertation?

On the road again, again
On the road again, again

Lavilliers continued.

(I could be frolicking in the Botanic Garden, drawing inspiration from nature, or visiting Queen Elizabeth at the Denver Art Museum so she can help me brainstorm my research questions.)

Ami sais-tu que les mots d’amour
Voyagent mal de nos jours
Tu partiras encore plus lourd
On the road again, again
On the road again, again

(There is French writing above, but my French isn’t that great, and it doesn’t matter if you don’t understand it.)

Yo, Bernard, I’m really happy for you. Imma let you finish, but Kerouac was the first to coin, “On the road…” [Spoken in Kanye West's tone]

Of course I was feeling like an idiot for saying this. I looked around at neighboring cars to make sure no one was watching me humiliate myself.

And then, it happened.

All of a sudden, I had an epiphany at Exit 235.

I don’t know if you’ve ever had an epiphany before (this was certainly the first of such a kind for me), but my heart started throbbing, and I didn’t know what to do.

Crap. Crap. I need to write this down before I forget.

Should I exit? Should I not?

Pen! Pen! Where is my PEN?

The exit is RIGHT THERE.

I should exit.

No, I may miss Dr. Lohr.

Crap. Kerouac. Kerouac. Beat. Exit.

But you didn’t make an appointment. 

Kerouac. Beat Generation. Dharma Bums. On the Road. Neal Cassidy.

But I may miss Dr. Gall.

Dharma Bums. Rolling down a mountain. On the Road. Cassidy. Denver. Objectives. Objectives.

You didn’t make an appointment.

But I need to write this down before I forget. Exit.

Dharma. Road. Neal Cassidy. Kerouac. Objectives. Road. Objectives.

Pen! Pen! Sharpie! Kerouac! EXIT.

YOU DIDN’T MAKE AN APPOINTMENT!

Where is my Sharpie? EXIT NOW. EXIT EXIT EXIT!

My usually quiet Prius screamed as I made a perpendicular turn off of Exit 235 to Starbucks. I ran in, ordered a tall chai, and started furiously writing in my dissertation journal (& doodle book).

Here is an artifact from my bank account that proves I did make this detour in Frederick, CO:

And here is my scribbling from my journal:

Immediately thereafter, I lost my train of thought and started drawing a page of birds.

Luckily, I was able to jot down enough notes for me to review them and organize them into the following thoughts. (I apologize beforehand for some of the awkward grammar, lack of sufficient references, and the unprofessional looking doodles. I am looking for initial feedback to see if I am on the right track.)

Chapter 1 (Pre-Draft)
There are two premises that must be assumed when considering the design and development of instruction. The first premise is that the students (or consumers of higher education) have a valid argument when they question the necessity and value of a college education. The second premise is that the design and development of instruction using a system approach will lead a higher education institution to becoming a successful arbitrator between high school and employment, thereby (if not indirectly) appeasing the concerns brought forward by the first premise.

Premise #1: Concerns about the value of a college education
In the past few years, there have been a growing number of articles inquiring about the value of a college education ([1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12][13][14][15][16][17]). From the perspective of the students, factors such as the rise in tuition costs resulting in higher student debt as well as the shortage in employment opportunities after graduation, are major considerations that impact their decision to attend a university or community college. From the perspective of the institution, a significant number of students who matriculate must take remedial courses and have low achievement scores when compared to students of other countries. At the same time, a growing number of employers are requiring candidates to hold at least a college diploma to even be considered for an interview. The paradox is that employers screen applicants for the degree itself (even if the degree is unrelated to the job), but criticize universities for producing graduates who have insufficient skills on the job.

The relationship between the economy and education is not a new insight. The famous report by the National Commission on Excellence in Education in 1983 entitled “A Nation at Risk” clearly predicted the same issues. In 1990, the National Center on Education and the Economy echoed the same concerns in “High Skills or Low Wages” and again in 2007 with “Tough Choices or Tough Times.”

The bad economy, layoffs, outsourcing, and job automation as a result of advances in technology are just a few of the realities that students face once they receive their diploma. It is no longer possible to isolate the value of a college education as a stepping stone between high school and employment without taking all of these concerns into consideration. This issue impacts not only the institutional level of planning but also it extends down to the classroom level where the actual learning takes place. In essence, the approach to designing a valuable college education requires designers and developers to consider all related components in its entirety.

Premise #2: Alignment using a system approach to the design and development will lead to success.

The design of a learning environment can be analyzed at three distinct levels.

When planning begins at the micro-level, the focus is on the students taking their courses toward completing their degree. Objectives written at this level are typically delineated on the course syllabus by the instructors (or instructional designers) and passed out at the beginning of the course following approval by the dean.

At the macro-level, the emphasis of the university, as an organization, is on student enrollment and graduation rates by minimizing costs and increasing profit. The discourse on the value of education is often considered at this level.

The focal point of planning at the mega-level (introduced by Roger Kaufman) is to go beyond the needs of an organization and to write objectives that includes external clients. Kaufman begins with an Ideal Vision describing a perfect world; “the kind of world you and your partners want to create together for tomorrow’s child.” In the Mega planning process, elements from the Ideal Vision are converted into an organization’s mega-level objectives. The subordinate macro-level and micro-level objectives become aligned to the mega-level objectives.

Much of the previous literature has looked at the micro- and macro-levels of planning in isolation. For example, books on instructional design has focused on the micro-level, providing a systematic solution to organizing a single course. The obvious limitation is the disconnect between courses, between the course objectives and the objectives of the program or school, and ultimately the succession of courses and future employment opportunities as well as the value an institution adds to society.

When analyzing an educational institution at the mega-level, the emphasis has been to begin assessing the educational framework beyond the organization using a system approach (as opposed to a systems, systematic, or systemic approach). Alignment of objectives among the mega-, macro-, and micro- levels is seen as the key to organizational success.

However, there is one critical element that requires further investigation.

The mega-planning framework is, in essence, a top-down approach which attempts to incorporate the needs of the subordinate tiers by finding a commonality beyond the organization to create a necessary consensus among the different levels. However, in such a model, the needs of the bottom line (the student and their learning) can become obscured. Even the instructor or professor (who is the most knowledgeable in the subject matter, has the closest human interaction with the students and their development, and serves as intermediary between the students and the institution) has very little say in the inclusion of higher-level goals.

To better understand the disconnect it is necessary to theoretically visualize the problem.

A Visual Illustration of the Theoretical Model
To begin, Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines the word align as the following: “to bring into line or alignment,” whereby a line can be represented by connecting two end points.

There are many ways to draw a line to connect these endpoints.

However, the ideal is to find the shortest line.

One can argue that the clarity of this alignment becomes strengthened when a third point is introduced.

The Mega-planning model uses this concept and begins the alignment process by identifying the societal values of all relevant stakeholders in the educational discourse. First is a point:

It begins by identifying the ethical beliefs everyone holds and turning them into measurable objectives that relates to the company. (I am only listing some elements from the Ideal Vision from Roger Kaufman’s extensive study.)

Next, the macro-level objectives are created in a way that they become aligned to the mega-level objectives stipulated above.

(When objectives are written in measurable terms, the clarity of the alignment is evidenced in a similar way as a subordinate objective would align to a terminal objective at the micro-level.)

Finally, in the mega-planning process, the micro-level objectives are aligned to the societal and macro-level objectives.

By doing so, everyone has a common mega-level goal that they can pursue.

This is important because all stakeholders begin with a common goal of improving society through a shared vision that is external to the organization.

Visually speaking, a problem arises if the alignment between the micro-/macro- line and the macro-/mega- line does not connect.

There is an assumption that micro-level goals will fall at a point on the line extending from the macro- and mega- level goals.

However, one aspect of defining clear and measurable objectives requires the designer to bridge a gap between the current state to the desired state. In other words, the current goals and desired goals must first be identified in order to formulate objectives in measurable terms. Only then is it possible to create realistic and attainable goals. This means that mega-level objectives require knowledge of the initial and desired states of macro-level objectives, and macro-level objectives require the knowledge of the initial and desired states of micro-level objectives. When developing micro-level objectives, instructors must assess the gap between student knowledge, skills, and attitudes carried over from high school to the desired goals of the class. In other words, the quality of mega-level planning is dependent on the the bottom line: what happens in the classroom.

To illustrate what happens at the micro-level, the straight line can represent the most effective and efficient means by which a student can complete a course. The instructor must assess the incoming students’ knowledge, skills, and attitudes and continue to adapt lesson content that will reach the objectives. It can also depict the most effective and efficient means by which a student can complete a degree.

Adding (fictional Ed Tech) course numbers may provide a better visualization of what this means to the learner.

Certainly, the instructors and the department of a program would be the most knowledgable of planning, revising, and making recommendations at this level.

In an ideal setting, if this idea is viewed with the mega-planning (value-added) model described above, the alignment becomes stronger if the extension of the line connects to the value-added point (at the right).

The idea is that there is a smooth transition from the first day of class to the mega-level that includes the student’s ability to find employment and the organization’s ability to help foster an environment that adds value to both internal and external clients. However, the concerns stipulated by the first premise suggests that there seems to be a disconnect.

This problem can be better addressed by comparing the the top-down approach to the bottom-up approach.

In the graphic above, the ideal planning process would be point m1. However, it is certainly possible that the alignment of macro-level and micro-level objectives could be either m2 and m3. This would require adjustments in better planning at the mega-level. Again, what is happening at the micro-level becomes critical in the development of higher-level objectives.

It is certainly possible that it is the macro-level organization that is not in alignment with the micro- (initial) and mega- (desired) levels.

In order to find an appropriate equilibrium among the various level of objectives, there is a need to explore the objectives at the micro-level, not in isolation, but as an essential element of the whole system.

The Course Syllabus
The course syllabus is widely used in college level courses as a means of communication between the instructor and the students. In the past, a syllabus was a single sheet of paper, itemizing the required books and assignments for a particular course. However, it recent years, its function has increasingly gained importance within the classroom. According to Parkes and Harris (2002), the syllabus serves three purposes. First, it serves as a contract between the instructor and the students. Second, it serves as a permanent record. Third, the syllabus can be used as a learning tool.

According to Grunert (1997), the syllabus is a “significant point of interaction” between the instructor and the learners. It is not only one of the first interactions that teachers have with their students (Baecker, 1998), but also, it is a document that “…reflects the instructor’s feelings, attitudes, and beliefs about the subject matter as well as about the students in the class” (Parkes & Harris, 2002, p. 59). Thus, it is a critical tool used by instructors to clearly communicate the goals and expectations of the course and to help support an effective learning environment that aids in student development. This is particularly true in online or self-paced courses where opportunities to create rapport with the students can be limiting.

Among many administrative elements that are described, the course syllabus typically includes objectives as well as lesson activities and assessment procedures. A careful assessment of these three components sheds light on the initial (current) state that is necessary for planning at the mega-level.

For my dissertation committee members and fellow Ed Techies, I propose one big research question:

In examining university course syllabi, how do micro-level objectives of an educational institution, defined as the initial (current) state in the assessment of needs using the Mega-Planning model, help explain the alignment gap in the US education system?

When I think about it, Bernard Lavilliers’ song was alluding to life’s journey where we feel we are always “on the road, again” searching for meaning at junctures that are often delineated by other people. I think Jack Kerouac and the Beat generation would agree. Education is no different. The system has created breaks, whether it is the transition between high school and college or college and employment because it is convenient to stipulate goals when there are clearly defined endpoints, where we can draw straight lines. Unfortunately, for an 18-year old and a 22- year old, this transition isn’t as clear cut and defined as our education system. It is continuous, and we as educators need to make sure we bridge these junctures in a way that smooth but mindful and valuable.

On the road again, again.
On the road again, again.
But, have we taken a look at where are we now, Bernard?

This article annoyed me a bit. I am very suspicious of mindless standardized testing in K-12 education, but it wasn’t the debate about standardized tests that bothered me. I wasn’t especially perturbed by the 75% figure either. It was something else. To better describe the cause of my irritation, allow me to deviate a bit from this article and share two stories which are, as always, anecdotal in nature.

The first story happened in Ms. Cynthia Hunafa’s fifth grade homeroom class. I sat relatively close to a boy named Matt who loved to read novels. If I remember correctly, Matt was rather short and had red hair. I would like to remember him wearing round Harry Potter-like glasses, but I am not certain about this. He might also have had freckles. He sat approximately two seats to the right of Sam Solomon, a tall blonde “new” student who sat facing me. I remember Sam was tall and thin and had a recycled paper notebook (a novelty at the time when the book, “50 Simple Things Kids Can Do To Save the Earth,” was widely popular). I associate Sam with the color purple. He might have been in the Purple Spelling Group. I do not remember. I just know he sat on the same side as Matt, and they both sat facing my direction. I do not recall Matt socializing with any of the other kids. He was quiet and shy, but I am most certain that he was constantly engrossed in his books.

One day, I saw Matt reading a massive book. I walked over to his desk and asked him what he was reading. Without looking up, he answered, “It,” as he did a little shake of his tome. “What?” “Stephen King.” He went back to reading.

If I had known Stephen King had actually written a book called “It,” perhaps, I would not have felt so humiliated. I probably would not have found any issue with continuing to read popular books for our age group, such as The Baby-sitters Club or the many adventures of Ramona and her sister. And, I would have never learned to enjoy looking closely into the meanings of words in stories and in texts as I do now. Of course these observations are all in hindsight. However, at the time, I interpreted Matt’s remark as one of smug indifference.

How dare he not look me in the eye and tell me what he is reading? Does he think he is better than me? Does he not know I am in the Gold Spelling Group? 

Needless to say, I was furious and determined to be able to read thick novels by Stephen King, just like Matt. I would prove to him that I could finish big books too, from cover to cover, so that the white vertical lines on the spine of the paperbacks would become relics depicting the pauses I took in conquering the novel in its entirety. Once he saw those lines, Matt would have to tell me what book he was reading at the time.

My mother, who knew nothing about King’s novels, was very pleased to hear about my interest in reading more difficult books. She suggested I look around our little library in our solarium to see if I couldn’t find something there. How about Stephen Hawking’s, A Brief History of Time, which I purchased years ago but never read? No, mother, I insisted. I only want Stephen King. That’s what Matt reads.

When I went to the bookstore at Merle Hay Mall with my mother, I asked the bookstore lady for Stephen King. Horrified, the lady behind the counter looked at me once, then looked at my immigrant mother (who was smiling proudly), and silently led me to the Horror section. “You will find his books here,” she pointed. She wouldn’t even go into the aisle to show me exactly where to look, and instead, quickly returned to her cash register bunker and watched carefully as the future female Jeffrey Dahmer carefully scanned book jackets for inspiration.

All I was interested in was finding a book with a funny-looking clown on the cover. Now, I am certain there were other novels (including “It”) at this particular bookstore, but being in the “20th percentile or less” height range within my age group, there was only one Stephen King book (in alphabetical order) that was within my eye level. I pulled it out of the shelf and was saddened to be greeted not by a clown, but instead, a cloud of green vapor floating behind a black foreground. Close enough, I thought. (Neon green was quite popular at the time.)

When I brought The Tommyknockers to the counter, the lady scornfully looked at my mother one last time as if she were the devil, herself, for allowing a young girl to read such inappropriate literature. Of course, neither my mother nor I had any clue, and we quickly paid and got into the car. Barely being able to contain my excitement on the ride home, as soon as we reached the house, I flung the door open, raced to my room, and quickly creased open the book to the first page.

And this is where this anecdote becomes relevant. When I began reading the very first sentence of Chapter 1, I came across a word that I could not understand. I vividly remember agonizing over my ignorance. Being an elite member of the special Gold Spelling Group, I did not want to admit that the book was too difficult for me, much less surrender to it after only attempting to read the first sentence. For days, I tried to understand what the word meant, and every night, I would try to pronounce the word aloud in hopes that the meaning would magically appear in my mind if I repeated it enough. When this plan did not seem to work, I went downstairs toward the solarium where my mother was hard at work at her loud electric typewriter, creating instruction for her next Japanese language class at Drake University. I plopped onto the orange couch next to her desk and pulled out my Kid’s Dictionary from our small library. My mother must have noticed the frustration in my eyes as I closed the dictionary in defeat. “What are you looking for?” the loud banging on the keys had stopped.

“Kah-teh-chee-zu-mu ga nai!”
The word, catechism, was not in my dictionary.

My mother came over and glanced at the first line of the book. “Kah-teh-chee-zu-mu,” my mother sounded out the word, just as I had done, in a Japanese accent. It was obvious that she had no idea either. However, being the educator that she was, my mother reached up to grab her English-Japanese dictionary and thumbed through the C tab. “Oh, it is pronounced kah teh kee zu mu,” she pointed at the phonological symbols next to the word. She mumbled the translation and nodded.

For the next thirty minutes or so, my mother explained to me about the history of  Western religions, in particular, Catholicism, and the importance of learning. I think my non-Christian mother tried her best to help her non-Christian daughter understand a very Christian word that neither one of us had ever encountered in our lives. The only association I had with Christianity was from the number of times our family was invited to our friend’s Baptist church where the congregation would raise their hands and sing songs about someone named Jesus. All this was so abstract to me that I still could not concretely lodge the word catechism in a safe place in my mind. My mother suggested I skip over the word and read further. “Maybe the story will explain it better.”

As it turns out, the story did not explain it any better. The Tommyknockers was a science fiction story about a writer who stumbles upon an alien spacecraft. Looking back, the book was too difficult for me to comprehend at my reading level. But, I had refused to give up, and I was eventually able to read every word in the book. (I must put the word “read” in italics because I probably only sounded out the words.) As I neared the end of the book, I was so determined to read from cover to cover that I had failed to study for a spelling test, and much to the chagrin of my mother, I was demoted from the elite Gold Spelling Group. Nonetheless, when I finished reading the last page of the novel, I took my paperback with the many vertical white lines on the spine and victoriously showed it to Matt as I boasted about how great the book was.

“Cool,” he said as he went back to his book.

It may seem a bit silly, but this small gesture by Matt was enough positive feedback to make me extremely proud of my accomplishment.

Though I never had another encounter with a word which had such a lasting impression on me as did the word catechism, I have come to learn that it is okay for me to sometimes skip over big words as long as I can enjoy the overall story. After the Tommyknockers incident, I began challenging myself with many other books that were difficult. I cannot say that I understood them all; however, I did become more and more comfortable finding parts of stories and transferring them into images in my mind.

Fast-forward twenty years for my second story. I was working remotely for a community college located in Texas as an instructional designer. One of the courses I helped design was an American Literature (I) class (which I will admit for the record that I did not get to finish designing). Having never taken American Literature in my life, I scoured the internet for syllabi, reading lists, presentations, podcasts, and videos of similar courses at other higher ed institutions. I identified the most common readings and familiarized myself with the purpose and meaning of the text. I should note that the class at this particular school in Texas was an accelerated four-week online course, so the most difficult part was deciding what text to cut out from my initial list and how to deliver it in a self-paced learning environment. For example, do I cut out the passages from The New England Primer (even though many schools had used snippets of it)? Or do I leave it in, since they were short readings?

Since I had never read The New England Primer, I decided to (like any other rational educator who deviates from popular teaching) look it up in Wikipedia and came across this sentence: “The 90-page work contained religious maxims, woodcuts, alphabetical assistants, acronyms, catechisms, and moral lessons.”

Catechisms.

Shit, it’s that Tommyknockers word again.

By this time, I was a doctorate student, and I must admit, I still had no idea what the word meant. For two decades the word had been resting patiently in my long-term memory for a chance to revive itself, and the glorious opportunity had finally arrived.

(I will not bore you with the process by which I finally understood the word catechism, but if anyone is interested, you can find concrete examples of catechisms from the New England Primer here.)

The importance of this story is extracting what I gained from the reading and designing process. When I began developing this course, I put on my instructional designer’s hat, pulled out my old textbooks, and was confident that I could begin with the assessment used by previous instructors and work my way back to the learning content. I looked over at syllabi from previous semesters at the college and found that evaluation in each of the sections were a series of test-bank questions assessing the student’s ability to recognize and recall fragmented bits of lower-level content in each of the readings. Here are two examples. (I have highlighted the correct answers in bold.)

1. [William] Bradford was elected ___ times as governor, which indicates he was a good leader.

• 5
• 10
• 25
• 30

2. In “Of Plymouth Plantation” on land, the healthy settlers treated the sick ones by

• avoiding them
• making fun of them
• taking care of them
• helping them when they could

Although I initially thought that all I needed to do was to cut out extraneous texts from a list, after reading more and more about (catechisms and) colonial Puritan literature, I began to understand that the American Literature (I) course was not just about reading literature by famous authors and answering rote questions. The texts were, in fact, historical primary and secondary records that provided a window into the politics, society, and culture of the American past. It wasn’t just historical. I realized that the discourse from the oral and written traditions had culminated into what we are today as a society. This was an amazing discovery for me, and I decided to rewrite the objectives, the assessment, as well as the learning content in a way that was reflective of this theme.

In hindsight, two decades is a long time to learn a single word, but for me, it took this long to finally be able to provide a context for housing catechism in my brain, thus creating meaning that made sense. It may be my own interpretation and very different from the authentic motivations of the Catholics or the Colonial Puritans. However, if it weren’t for the much detested Wikipedia, I may never have come to experience this.

To conclude the rather long anecdote, here is one way to understand the situation.

If it weren’t for Matt, I would have never opened up the Tommyknockers. If I had never opened up the Tommyknockers, I would have never agonized over a word so much that it would leave an impression in my memory. If I didn’t have such an impression in my memory, I would have spent the time studying for my spelling test. If I had spent the time studying for my spelling test, I would have not been ousted from the elite Gold Spelling Group.

Here is another perspective:

If it weren’t for Matt, I would have never opened up The Tommyknockers. If I had never opened up the Tommyknockers, I would have never agonized over a word so much that it would leave an impression in my memory. If I didn’t have such an impression in my memory, I would have never taken the time to understand the word catechism. If I had never taken the time to understand the word catechism, I would not have made a discovery that altered my understanding of American Literature and instructional design.

Either way, I am forever indebted to Matt and his initial remark, which stimulated my interest and helped shape the ideas and beliefs I currently hold.

Now, in returning to the original Washington Post article, if I had to use a similar technique to interpret the causal relationship implied in the text it would go something like this:

• Because there was no coordination between K-12 and Higher Ed, the instructors could not effectively teach the students to the test.
• Because instructors could not effectively teach the students to the test, students could not pass the ACT’s college preparedness benchmarks
• Because the students could not pass the benchmarks, taxpayers now have to pay for repeated courses.

It seems to me that we spend too much time looking at our past to pinpoint the exact date and time we made an error. (Examples: When we began to realize George W. Bush’s NCLB was failing or when Barack Obama’s Race to the Top became another NCLB in disguise.) We have become so embittered by the mistakes we have made in the past that we lose sight of the fact that such a revelation should not be a time where we place blame, but rather, a monumental opportunity where, if embraced, signifies a new starting point for better understanding how we can make positive solutions in the future. Mistakes or errors, in my opinion, may mark the end of a bad policy, but it is critical to recognize that it is also the beginning of a new quest to make things better.

If three in four students need remedial classes, those courses should no longer be labeled “remedial.” Instead, they should become regular pre-requisite classes for other courses. Although I am not contesting the argument that certain elements within our educational system may need reevaluation, we should never blame or punish our students for not knowing learning material the first time they are assessed or not being able to remember during a high-anxiety provoking test environment. Just as it took me decades to fully understand and make meaning of one abstract concept, it may take more time for some students to reach that A-ha! moment. Each student comes from different backgrounds and experiences, and so it is not surprising that they do not grasp the same knowledge at the same rate or in the same manner as their peers. They should be encouraged to allow confusion and frustration to be positive catalysts for the ever-evolving maturation of their minds. By the same token, this is true for educators. When we realize that a learning environment did not work as effectively as planned, we should pride ourselves for taking the time to better understand where our students are in their current level of development so that we can prepare them with skills that they will need in their subsequent courses. The end of twelfth grade does not mean that the high school mind shuts down and a new college mind begins. It is a continuous process that is lifelong and organic.

In instructional design (ID), we often talk about a needs assessment. A needs assessment is an analysis that a) identifies a gap between current outcomes and desired outcomes, b) prioritizes them, and c) solves them. When we talk about a needs assessment at the classroom level, part of this analysis requires us to 1) assess the knowledge, skills, and attitudes of students when they arrive to class on the first day, 2) set forth objectives that will help them achieve certain goals, and 3) find the best possible way to get them there. Unfortunately, step number 1 is a vague area. Classroom teachers typically do not get to personally know the students until many weeks into the semester, and lesson planning begins well before the students step foot for the first time in the classroom. At the state level, policy is based on retroactive evaluation of students who, most often, are not given a second chance to re-demonstrate mastery even if they could (unless they are classified as a failing student, in which case they must repeat the entire grade level).

For my dissertation, I have always been interested in the topic of setting good objectives: What is the desired state? Where do we want our students to go? By identifying clearly measurable objectives, all relevant parties (stakeholders, administrators, parents, teachers, and students) would understand the expectations and guidelines that would be indicative of achievement. This interest has not changed. However, with much reflection, I realize that the quality of writing objectives is largely contingent on our ability to clearly define a starting point. Perhaps, I thought after reading the Washington Post article, we are too busy blaming and creating toxic environments that we are not given the chance to loop back through the ID process to make sense of new beginnings (resulting from summative evaluation).

When I reflect on my learning as a 10 year old student and as an instructional designer, I can see an aspect of the ID process that requires further investigation. There are many researchers who have looked at what we want our students to be able to do or what types of skills we want them to achieve when they finish a semester of class or four years of college. Early this year, I remember President Obama’s 2012 State of the Union Address, where he stated, “Now you need to give more community colleges the resources they need to become community career centers -– places that teach people skills that businesses are looking for right now, from data management to high-tech manufacturing.”

These goals are wonderful, particularly because the literature on education firmly states that students are ill prepared for the types of jobs that would help cultivate a highly skilled workforce in the future (when many of the current jobs will be replaced by technology). However, the process of designing instruction and learning environments is not just about setting goals or finding the most effective and efficient medium for achieving them. It is also about learning where we are now and evaluating whether or not the students can reach those goals. Stepping back and reassessing the past does not mean that we are regressing. Instead, I believe it means that we are creating a stronger foundation, just as I was able to make meaning of the word catechism and just as American Literature has reinvented itself by seeking guidance from the past.

The first sentence of Stephen King’s The Tommyknockers which had puzzled me over the years began: “For want of a nail, the kingdom was lost – that’s how the catechism goes when you boil it down.” The intended purpose of this proverbial rhyme was to suggest that small actions could lead to larger unexpected consequences. Based on the entry in Wikipedia, this was certainly the case for the protagonist in The Tommyknockers. However, I’d like to think that change can be mindful, and consequences do not have to be negative. If catechisms are used to help students learn doctrines or ideas, then perhaps, “for want of a nail,” we can carefully learn from difficulties of the past so that we don’t lose kingdoms, but we can collectively make the existing ones better. That’s how my catechism goes when you boil it down.

From: Akio
Subject: My Cosmonaut needs to go to the ER
Date: April 11, 2012 11:29:34 AM MDT
To: Studio Neat

Hello Tom and Dan at Studio Neat,

I am writing to tell you how much I love your Cosmonaut, and how much I have been recommending it to my friends. Unfortunately, I am having a bit of a problem, and was hoping you could advise me on what to do.

The thing is, I have purchased about 10 different types of styluses (styli?) in the past, but they have never been smooth enough to draw anything draw-able:

 OR they have always quit on me.

Sadly, they disappear, and never come back.

So one day, I posted on Facebook about my disappointment in losing my last stylus.

Then, my awesome friend, Jason ([email address redacted]), sent me his Cosmonaut because he thought I would make better use of it [link]:

The result?

Love!

So, I have been using this for a month now, and I am a little worried about something that is happening to my Cosmonaut.

There is a slight tear/hole at the tip that is getting worse as I draw more.

I wanted to take a picture of it with my phone, but it came out so blurry. (It doesn’t help that I have an iphone3g.)

Example:

 So I took it with my other camera, which came out a little better:

It is a tiny slit (you can sort of see it on the right), but it is very noticeable when I am drawing, and I am afraid it is getting bigger.

I promise, I didn’t drop it on a chain saw…or threaten it with a knife.
As I was drawing more and more on my iPad, it just appeared and grew.
I am writing to see what I can do to fix my Cosmonaut.
Is there a quick fix that you can recommend?
Or, is there a way to replace it? If so, how much will it cost?
Can you help me and my Cosmonaut?

Thank you!

Your very loyal fan,
Akio

Within six hours, Dan, one of the owners of Studio Neat responded to me with the following email (click to enlarge):

This email certainly made my day.

If you need a quality stylus for your smartphone or tablet, I highly recommend the Cosmonaut from Studio Neat. It goes for $25 and is worth every penny. And, as an added bonus, the owners are awesome.

*Update: They sent me THREE tips! Thank you Studio Neat!

Here is a screen capture of Columbus (brilliantly played by Josh) in my old living room, pleading to Queen Isabella (portrayed by Beth) to finance his voyage:

Since we had no access to ships for our project, we used my backyard deck as a makeshift vessel. This is Columbus and one of his crew members (played by Drew) sleeping on the ship:

And here is the dramatic scene of Columbus’ discovery of land (notice the detail we put in with the hotel towels representing masts of the ship):

Being the only minority student of the group, I was elected to play the part of a benevolent ‘Indian’ with Beth (who, earlier, played the Queen):

We presented an amicable relationship between Columbus and the Indians…

…sharing food (bananas and apples) and dancing together (in our sneakers) around a rock in my backyard…

At the end of the video, Columbus dies. A distressed Queen Isabella cries as the crew member covers Columbus’ face with a piano keyboard cover…

The end.

During the early 1990s, the only resources we were permitted to use at school included our class textbook, the teacher’s lectures, and a few books from the library. We couldn’t google “Christopher Columbus” and find almost 10 million search results. We didn’t have teachers yelling at us for quoting wikipedia. We never had access to 20 million+ primary and secondary sources from the Library of Congress to see a painting of Christopher Columbus at the royal court of Spain like this one:

From the Library of Congress: http://www.loc.gov/pictures/resource/pga.03133/

Nor did I get to see an image of Columbus’ journal,

From the Library of Congress: http://loc.gov/exhibits/earlyamericas/online/exploration/exploration.html

where he wrote:

There I found very many islands, filled with innumerable people, and I have taken possession of them all for their Highnesses, done by proclamation and with the royal standard unfurled, and no opposition was offered to me.

I never learned about the brutal and vicious mass extermination of the Arawaks living in the Bahamian Islands until much later in my life.

When I recently found, digitized, and watched our Columbus video, I wondered, “Hmm, if technology in the early 90s supported the amount of access to information that exists now, would our interpretation of the Discovery of America depicting Columbus as a man of valor and amiable heroism have been different?”

At first, I thought that the answer was an obvious, yes. We have more information available online. And plus, kids these days love accessing stuff off the internet, I thought. However, as I began learning about American history, about American history of education, and about instructional design, I began to have doubts about my initial decision, realizing that the answer was not so simple.

Allow me to explain.

In 2005, Thomas L. Friedman, a renowned American journalist and columnist, first proposed that the world is flat, or at least it is flattening (a far departure from a previous conception of a round world). In the 2007 edition of his book, “The World Is Flat 3.0: A Brief History of the Twenty-first Century,” Friedman described three eras of globalization that have dramatically altered human society.

The first globalization occurred from Columbus’ time until the 1800s, when physical strength and military strategies consolidated the power of one country’s dominance over another. Around this time period, tactical marriages were used to enable alliances between countries.

From around 1800 to 2000, the second era of globalization flattened the world through partnerships and competition between multinational corporations. According to Friedman, the reduction of transportation and telecommunication costs was key in shaping this period beyond territorial boundaries.

The third era of globalization has flattened the world even more through (a word I learned at a web2.0 conference) the coopetition (the cooperation and competition) of individuals in a global society. Unlike previous eras, the power of the third era has focused on the empowerment of individual people to, not only create meaning from a broader pool of resources, but also, to construct, disseminate, and add their own understanding of knowledge through various media in real time.

So far, all the clues point toward affirming my first hypothesis that, given all the technology we have now in 2011, Akio, Beth, Drew, and Josh of the early 90s would have portrayed a very different Columbus from the one we produced.

However, we also need to consider how these ideas of global flattening fit into the history of education in the United States.

Joel Spring, in his book, “The American School: From Puritans to No Child Left Behind” details how educational policy, philosophy, and instructional method has been shaped in part by the government to create social order necessary at any given time period.

For most of the first globalization period described by Friedman, the US was still a colony of the British. Initially, with the passage of the Massachusetts Law of 1642 and the Old Deluder Satan Law of 1647, communities in colonial America were required to set up schools because masters of apprenticeships and parents were neglecting to educate their children about religious and moral training that was necessary in creating a “good society.” Reading and Writing Schools used books like the New England Primer, instructing students to memorize passages that promoted the maintenance of social and religious order through obedience to God and to the government.

Post-Revolution America had a different agenda, according to Spring. The philosophy of faculty psychology was used in perfecting the moral character of students to become patriotic citizens. A Lancastrian system created a factory-type system of education where a teacher sat in front of the room, and better students in the class were selected as ‘monitors’ who gave instructions to a classroom of hundreds of students working on different recitations simultaneously.

The education system during the second era of global flattening draws its concepts from Horace Mann and the Common School Movement. Horace Mann believed that governmental intervention in providing a moral education to all children (regardless of religious, social, or ethnic backgrounds) would reduce poverty and social class tension resulting from a growing class stratified society.

Issues such as 1) freed and enslaved African Americans; 2) an industrializing society; 3) the influx of immigrants (Irish and German at first and then Chinese, Mexican, and Italian later); and 4) manifest destiny and the debate of acquiring Native American lands; all cultivated the need for a moral education system to create a peaceful society of emerging adults, with shared values, that would be prepared to work in an industrialized society.

It is interesting to see how the education system has not changed much since the 1850s. Emerging from this time period were ideas we now take for granted such as normal schools for teacher training, age differentiations by grade levels, grades used for assessment, standardization of curriculum and instruction, high schools, and hierarchy of staff at a school (i.e., principals, assistant principals, teachers, etc).

So what does this all mean?

I think that what is important is not just about what information is available for students, but how we teach students to be active, conscious, and critical consumers of that information. Certainly, there is plenty more information scattered around the internet that is available for students now. However, the mere existence of information does not directly create curious, critical thinking students.

Relating back to my elementary education on the topic of Columbus, I noted in the beginning that my teacher gave us a multiple choice test in assessing our knowledge about early American History. But what exactly was the purpose of testing me on the year Columbus came to America? How important is it for me to recite a silly little mnemonic 20 years later? What do isolated bits of information prove if they are disconnected to a fourth or fifth grader’s everyday life? If I were to correctly answer 100% of the questions, what does it mean for me to receive an A for circling? More importantly, for the second portion of the curriculum, would the same teacher have had the necessary skills as facilitator of an interactive learning environment? Would they have dared us to look for different perspectives, thinking critically about bias in our textbook or discrimination that has evolved in current US society? And would the same teacher have challenged us to take what we had learned to produce a product that would add value for posterity?

If society has flattened again, and we live in a level playing field, maybe Columbus Day shouldn’t just be about celebrating Christopher Columbus’ arrival to the New World, but be a day, perhaps, where we think about the implications of how the Asian Indians (that Columbus thought he had met) are now educating themselves and equipping themselves with the skills necessary for the 21st century. Or maybe, we should use this day to think about how the Chinese (who once, by law, were banned from immigrating into the US), are now working harder and harder to educate their young population to develop into leaders of the world’s next superpower.

At the end of the day, I think education in the US will continue to be revised based on the needs of current society. However, what is evident is that the current system is outdated and failing. It is failing not only for students who are promised a better life after college and are burdened with unemployment and student debts. It is failing for the huge 60%-or-so middle who get by satisfying the status quo, but are often ignored because they are allowed to mindlessly flow in and out of the system. It is also failing for the creative, experimental, and unique outliers who are not encouraged to cultivate their curiosity.

So yep…this is where I am so far in my dissertation process: Not very far. Happy Columbus Day, everyone.

Edit: My misconception about the shape of the world during Columbus’ time. (Thanks to Erin for the video link on BrainPop.)

10 Things I Need To Do Everyday

1. Work on my Dissertation
This is obviously number one on my list, but I feel the other elements on my list will help me progress through this process. I once talked to a principal of a charter school who told me that his role in the school was to help kids create ‘hooks’ so that they could learn the skill of making connections. I think in academia, this idea draws heavily from the concept of schemas. In order to facilitate efficient recall of information stored in long-term memory, the amount of connections we make about a concept has a tremendous impact on the retrieval process. I’ve found that new experiences (both positive and negative) have always had a place in my dissertation process. You would be surprised to see how instructional design impacts so many non-academic everyday activities. I realized this when I took a cooking class from Chef Dan (at The Seasoned Chef Cooking School), where he taught us how to produce a meal not through a recipe, but through using basic skills and techniques (such as cutting food, watching for smoke when heating a pan, and checking the temperature of protein). According to Chef Dan, once you have mastered the basic skills and techniques, the most important questions are : 1) Does it taste good? and 2) Is there enough for everyone? In instructional design, we also talk about teaching skills over rote memorization. I found the art of cooking to reinforce these concepts.

2. Make Something 
This means making a product, and showcasing it somehow. It can be a drawing, a meal, or even a fort in my living room. At the TEDxBoulder 2011 conference, I was inspired by Jake Nickell’s presentation entitled, “Never stop making.” He stated that while experts routinely do their jobs efficiently and effectively, innovation often comes from amateurs who may not be doing it the right way. In life, such unintended consequences can only come about if we feel the need to keep making. “Do it for yourself…don’t be a passive viewer of the world.” Jake Nickell also stated that you don’t need a master plan, “Just get it out of your head.” I really like this idea. In the past year, I’ve been getting into sewing, gardening, and cooking, and I hope to make something meaningful out of each of these hobbies.

3. Watch (Look at) Something
One may argue that human beings in the 21st century are overloaded with visual stimulation. Whether it be through the internet, the TV, through video games, or through our smartphones and tablets. We probably need less of all of those in a given day. But, what I’m talking about here is the need to watch something or look at something that is informative and helps us 1) learn a new concept or skill,  2) navigate through information critically, and 3) reconsider convention. As an example, I recently decided to take up sewing, knowing absolutely nothing about the subject. After the sewing machine’s arrival, I realized I had no idea what I was supposed to do with it. Thankfully, through YouTube, I watched tons of clips on threading my sewing machine, threading the bobbin, cutting fabric with rotary cutters, quilting, backstitching, adding buttons, and so forth. In addition to learning about sewing, I also learned about what makes a good video tutorial. Concepts like audio quality, the use of background music, close-ups, and rapport between the narrator and audience were extremely important to me. This was also true when I had my documentary-watching marathon. There is a lot of criticism on education-related documentaries produced in the past few years such as Waiting for Superman (2010), the Lottery (2010), Whatever It Takes (2009), or The Cartel (2009). Questions of bias and the methods of presenting information in addition to the whole debate on improving education is reflective of how we consume information. In this way, I think learning how to use my visual senses critically is extremely important.

4. Talk to Someone
(…and meet up with someone face-to-face at least once a week). In the past twenty years, different social media have taken over my life. I find myself being overwhelmed by the exponential increase in and bombardment of the amount of information presented to me in a given moment. Learning about my friends in 140-character bursts or through a filtered Instamatic-type image is intriguing, but I am left with so many questions. Fifteen years ago, I could just give my friend Emily a call, meet up, and talk. Amy and I would go on random drives “to get lost,” going back and forth on the Seven Hills, hitting our favorite bump on the side of the road as we talked about spontaneous things happening around us. Now, much of the daily feedback I get are in the form of a blue thumbs up or an @ sign. It is so easy, efficient, and comfortable. But I want to make my life difficult. If I call you, I probably just want to hear your voice, see how you are doing, and draw inspiration from your life.

5. Write Something
I was talking to my friend Jason about how we were both not updating our respective blogs. The paradox of blogging is that you need to consistently post content or you do not receive traffic or feedback. However, without feedback and traffic, you lose the motivation to post. I often begin writing a post as a draft, without ever finishing it or publishing it. Jason mentioned something interesting to me about the difference between our speaking skills and our writing skills. Why is it so much easier to articulate things through speech than it is to just sit and post a blog about it? He suggested that it is because, while we have many chances in our day-to-day lives to practice our verbal communication skills, once we graduate from school, we rarely practice our writing skills (to the same extent). So writing for me daily will get me in the habit of purposeful synthesis of thought jotting.

6. Read What I Wrote the Day Before
For those who know me, I carry around a un-lined notebook and a glue-stick everywhere I go. In addition to gluing ticket stubs, business cards, receipts, and stickers, I often write down my thoughts or doodle in them. I have been writing since high school when my friend Toby gave me my first brown Sherlock Holmes notebook, and I have been gluing since I visited Europe with my friend Ginger just after high school. For all the writing and gluing I have done, I have rarely ever re-read anything in those books. As I read about formative evaluation in instructional design, I think re-reading my work and improving on challenges is important in my learning process. In Thomas Friedman’s book, “The World Is Flat 3.0,” one of the characteristics necessary in becoming successful in the future is to learn how to learn how to know. It isn’t specifically what you know (lower level knowledge) that is important, but how to learn (higher level knowledge). I think exercises in metacognition, or thinking about thinking, may be a good first step in reaching those goals.

7. Eat a Healthy Vegetarian Meal At Least Once A Day
(…preferably organic and not radioactive). I’ve always prided myself in being a healthy eater. I almost always cook at home, and I enjoy a balanced diet without overeating. However, in light of the radiation disaster in Japan, I began to learn about how we needed to consider not only the types of food groups we should consume, but also the quality of the food that we purchase. I recently watched the documentaries, “Food Inc” (2008) and “King Corn” (2007), coincidentally just before the TEDxBoulder 2011 conference where many of the speakers were in the food-related industry. One speaker in particular, Robyn O’Brien, gave a presentation on how she learned about one of her children’s allergies and her subsequent passion to be informed and inform others about the food we consume. What was surprising to me, in particular, was the correlation (not causation) between the increase in genetically engineered products with the increase in children born with food allergies. As someone who hopes to have kids of her own one day, one of my goals is to make better choices on not only what I eat, but also, how I choose to eat.

8. Drink Less Alcohol (and Soda)
The soda portion is pretty easy, since I don’t drink that much soda in general. However, curving alcohol consumption is probably one of the hardest goals on this list since I have been drinking alcohol daily since I can remember. So far in my life, I have never thought of it as a big issue in my life, until recently, I happen to re-read an almost illegible scribble in my journal: “Stop drinking so much. You are an idiot.” Which made me wonder if there wasn’t a way to moderate my drinking. So here is the plan which I am stealing from the time I was training for the Half Marathon using the Nike+ wristband and also from my readings on assessment and motivation. It involves positive reinforcement and rewards. For every day, I don’t drink, I give myself a star. When I reach 10 stars, I get to do something super cool (and there are so many cool things I want to do). Every time I reach my goal, I add five more to the goal. So first iteration: 10 stars. Second iteration: 15 stars. Third iteration: 20 stars. If I do drink one evening, no worries. Just try again the next day. So far, I’ve found ways to replace my soda and alcohol consumption with other beverages. One of my friends, Mario, recently gave me a ton of amazing loose tea leaves from Germany. I had my first sip the other day, and I instantly fell in love with German tea.

9. Play Music or Listen to Something
I always love listening to different types of music, but two audio related hobbies I’ve picked up recently are audiobooks and playing the ukulele. I have found audiobooks to be a great form of entertainment on my 1 hour+ drive to Greeley. I also listen while I sew because I feel so guilty not doing dissertation reading while I am so engrossed in putting together a new sewing idea. Playing the ukulele was initially something I had always wanted to do, but never got around to doing. I simply wanted to find something relatively easy to learn, but portable and fun. I never realized how much patience I needed, though, I think it’s helping me with my hand-eye coordination (something I was never very good at doing). Digital media online has made learning a new instrument extremely inexpensive. My teachers are random people on the internet who take the time to post videos, post tabs, and provide chord charts. Similar to the experiences of learning how to sew, there are so many creative people putting up tutorials online.

10. Do Something New
I don’t know what to write here, except, I draw inspiration from a question that I was asked during my comprehensive exams. My committee and I were discussing how report cards and grades never encouraged students to be creative or to take risks. For example, while I do believe that goals and objectives are important in learning, creating a box rubric and saying you will receive full points if you complete the listed goals limits the student’s motivation to push themselves one step further. The question, “So, how do you propose to change the grading system?” still intrigues me. This question was like asking, “how do you place a grade on non-visual aspects of learning, such as effort, motivation, creativity, inspiration?” In order to search for the answer, number 10 on my list is left vague to open up the possibility for new experiences and ideas.

A few months ago, I received an invitation to her wedding.

I didn’t know what to get her and her fiancee. I wondered what she could actually use; something that she would need. Something both of them could make use of. And then a thought came to me.

Toilet paper.

I would get them a year worth of toilet paper.

But I didn’t want to bring a huge box of toilet paper to the wedding. I couldn’t imagine how much space a year worth of toilet paper would take up.

I decided to write them a check.

But the idea of just handing them a check really bothered me.

So, I decided to write a wedding letter to go with it.

I wrote and wrote.

(I am certain now that you are getting your money’s worth with Costco’s Kirkland brand toilet paper.)

I even wrote my own wedding certificate.

I wrote for three days straight, watching a ton of movies (thank you Netflix Watch Instantly).

425 sheets later, I finally finished.

I included a check for a year worth of toilet paper,
which they won’t find until they read to the end.

The hardest part was re-rolling the toilet paper.

Rolling

Rolling

Rolling

Meta rolling

Finished!

Unfortunately, the rolled up toilet paper would not fit in the original plastic cover that I had carefully taken apart.

I didn’t think it would be appropriate to just bring a loose roll of toilet paper to the wedding.

I decided to create an original label using left over construction paper.

I used Martha Stewart’s lovely “Foil and Parchment in one” sheet for the cover.

Using superglue, I put together the toilet paper roll.

This is the finished product. Happy Marriage Mel and Marc!

The other day, he took me indoor climbing at The Spot Bouldering Gym in Boulder, Colorado.

Actually, no. I took him there.

I drove because he has no car. In exchange, he agreed to give me a one-day lesson on climbing.

On the car ride from Greeley to Boulder, he described to me the basics of climbing. I learned that there are different types of climbing (bouldering, top-roping, and lead-climbing).

Bouldering

Top Roping

Lead Climbing

There is also indoor and outdoor climbing. In addition there are all sorts of tools and equipment that is used when climbing, depending on the place and type of climbing. That day, I would be bouldering, so I just needed special rubber soled climbing shoes and a chalk bag for my sweaty hands.

In indoor climbing, there is usually an artificial wall with a bunch of colorful “holds” drilled onto the wall.

When you approach a wall for the first time, climbing looks terribly complicated. First, the wall is extremely tall: 25ft (It actually looks taller).

Also, there are so many colorful holds in all shapes and sizes. It’s hard to figure out what you’re supposed to do. On top of that, some parts of the wall are angled, so it looks like you will most likely fall. I hate the feeling of falling.

Hirooki assured me that it wasn’t very difficult. The idea is to use your hands and feet (and other body parts if necessary) to climb to the top of the designated route. The routes are color-coded based on difficulty. At the Spot, the levels range from one spot to 5+ spots with 1 spot being the easiest. I picked a 2 spot route where each of the holds relevant to the route were tagged with brown tape.

According to Hirooki, there are three main steps to rock climbing: observing, planning, and climbing. (Of course this is simplified greatly).

First you have to take a look at the route. Because everything is tagged, you have to know where you are going and which holds you are allowed to use to get to the top of the wall. In my case, I could only use my hands and feet on the holds tagged with brown tape. The problem is, once you start climbing, because the tape is underneath the hold, you can’t see it very well. You have to figure out where you need to go in advance. Hence, step number 2: planning. When I watched Hirooki plan his route, he was deep in thought, moving his hands and feet. He kind of looked like a praying mantis.

Once that is figured out, the last step is to climb: The fun part.

Hirooki attempted a very difficult route (I think it was 4+ or 5 spots).

He made all sorts of screaming and grunting sounds as he pushed himself upward and sideways and underneath different holds. It was quite amazing seeing a person stay attached to a wall that was at such a steep angle. Eventually he fell onto a crash pad. He tried this a number of times; each time, he would reach a certain hold and fall: “FUCK!” The crowd, which had begun to gather around him in amazement, clapped for his effort.

Unperturbed, he came and sat next to me to rest. Within seconds, he was planning his next attempt, soaking his hand in his chalk bag.

Along came another climber attempting the same route. This guy was a lot taller than Hirooki and had a larger frame.

He could grab holds that were further away, but eventually, he too, fell. Hirooki whispered to me, “See that hold up there?” pointing at a small maroon hold. “There is a small hole at the top. He probably can’t put his finger in it, but I have smaller fingers. I can grasp it better. You shouldn’t be deceived by body size.” He jumped up. It was now his turn.

After falling again, Hirooki went to the other guy, and I saw them discussing the best strategy for the route.

After a number of unsuccessful attempts, Hirooki smiled, “This was so much fun. Let’s go practice some of your routes.” For the remainder of the day, he gave me practical advice on my climbing.

After the experience, I realized that climbing is a lot like instructional design (ID). In ID, there is a big problem (the wall) that we want our learners to solve.

I guess for behaviorists, the bottom of the wall is where the learner is, currently. The top of the wall is where we want the students to end up. The in-between is the “gap”. I think this is a lot like doing a needs assessment and writing performance objectives.

In ID, we observe the situation (through learner analysis, content analysis, goal analysis, etc). As instructional designers, we have to create an instructional problem that is solvable based on the learner’s current knowledge and abilities. This means we have to observe where the end is, while considering the learner and their capabilities and make assumptions about how they will learn.

Next comes the planning phase. As instructional designers, we figure out how to best get to the top of the wall (through coming up with strategies and message design). Of course, we can choose a “one-spot” problem or a “five-spot” problem based on the learner analysis. It will get to the same top-of-the wall, but some are easier to solve than others. For example, if I attempted a 5 spot problem from the start, I wouldn’t even be able to get to the second hold. This would be ineffective, inefficient, and honestly not fun for me as a learner. In ID-speak, this would be considered extraneous load.

The last step of climbing is very similar to the implementation phase of instructional design.

Essentially, we do it. If they can do it, great. If not, we make changes to the design.

For behaviorists, the main goal is to get to the top of the wall. We know the learner has demonstrated competence if they have reached the top of the wall. This makes sense. So we should get to the top of the wall. That’s the point of climbing. Right?

Not necessarily.

After Hirooki coached me until exhaustion (my arms felt like they were made of rubber), he attempted one last chance at that difficult route.

“FUCK!”

He walked toward me, smiling again. “I’m tired. Let’s go eat.” We decided to leave and get dinner at Wahoos! Yes! Fish tacos!

During dinner, I asked Hirooki if he didn’t want to keep on trying the route until he got to the top. His answer surprised me. “I’m exhausted for the day. Plus, getting to the top is nice, but I learned a lot. It was a lot of fun.”

Surprised by his answer, I asked him to elaborate on his “learning”.

“Climbing a route is like trying to solve a problem. There is more than one way to get to the answer. Each time I fall, I learn more about different ways to adjust my body or the muscles in my fingers. You’ll be surprised to learn about all the different muscles that you have that you didn’t know about. The route is clearly marked, so that doesn’t change for all of us. But depending on your body size and fitness level, you may approach it differently. Maybe you don’t use all the holds. What’s most important is finding and refining your own skills so you can plan and tackle your next step more efficiently.”

He described to me how competitions work in climbing. In competitive climbing, climbers are given points on 1) how far up they get on the route (so for example, if someone is able to grab a hold, they would get more points than someone who merely touched the same hold); 2) how many times they fall before they reach the top; and 3) the climber’s overall score over the course of the year. “So there is a chance that someone who has accumulated enough points over the course of the year, who isn’t in the competition, will win the championship?” “Yes, technically, that’s a possibility.”

So it’s not really about that final competition. Nor is it necessarily about getting to the top. In my mind, I revised my initial steps to climbing:

In thinking about the relevance of climbing with instructional design, I think about the differences between behaviorists and constructivists. Behaviorists will look at the wall climbing problem and set a performance objective. For example (and I realize I am giving a quintessential behavioral objective here):

Given climbing shoes, a chalk bag, and a 25ft wall (with designated holds at a 2-spot level), the climber will reach the top of the wall within 20 minutes without falling off once.

If the purpose of the climb is to reach the top, then practice may eventually get you up there. Once you get to the top, you have successfully “mastered the objective.” But this objective doesn’t include the learning that occurs during the process of climbing, which I find is just as, if not more important. For example, positioning your body in different ways to reach a new hold, communicating with others to discuss techniques, or even the motivation to try again once you fall. It would seem like improving on and developing these techniques will more likely prepare you for new climbing routes. I think the same constructivist ideas apply to education.

The problem is, how do we incorporate this concept in academia where semesters and quarters are clearly defined and behavioral objectives are a slave to accountability?

Only then do we realize that our lives are bound by some sort of box and there exists the possibility of an external reality.

But can we really “Think Outside the Box”?

Or are we just stretching the box to make our reality bigger to incorporate more of that “external reality”?

My illustration of “Thinking Outside the Box”:

It certainly looks messy. (But it also looks pretty awesome.)

Is this constructivism?