A reflection on “The Networked Student”, “Rethinking Learning: The 21st Century Learner“, “Connected Learning: An Agenda for Research and Design“, “The Global One-Room Schoolhouse“, and “Becoming a Networked Learner” (Mancabelli & Richardson, 2001)

 

Education is a profoundly political tool. I’m hardly blowing any minds with that argument, I know.

Still, with this week’s readings, I found a broadening of my perspective, so far focused on the mind and its knowledge-building systems, to a more holistic consideration of learners as embodied and meaningfully situated in diverse socio-cultural contexts.

In reading “Connected Learning”, I was struck by the urgency of the emphasis the researchers placed on linking educational reform with an equity agenda. Their point is powerful — if we push for a more socially-embedded system of education that recognizes, speaks to, and is shaped by students as “whole people”, we cannot ignore the contexts they come from and are headed into.

If instead we fail to focus on equity and collective outcomes, our work as educators can and will only serve to strengthen long-standing systematic advantages of privileged learners. I believe that education should serve as one tool — a fundamental tool — for rising the tide that “lifts all boats”.  The question, then, is how we can design connected learning environments that are inclusive and democratic in their reach and in their results.

I argue that equitable, networked, and interest-driven learning requires a redistribution of three often scarce resources: support, space, and time.
 

Support: The Fallacy of the Digital Native

Connected learning principles require an upheaval of the hierarchical status quo in schools, in which power and valued participation rest in the teacher and in high-performing students. Last week, I explored the inadequacy of social hierarchy in representing contemporary connected systems, using instead the imagery of networked nodes and links.

Networked Learning Paradigm, Copryight Ed4wb.org

In “Part 1: Challenges” of the Connected Learning text, the authors note that what, in some instances, appears to be “an opposition to academic achievement among African American and Latino students” is instead a resistance to systemic practices that “devalue their linguistic practices, distinct learning styles, and modes of self-presentation . . .”

It’s clear that many of our most vulnerable learners have been failed by the status quo.

The health of transformative learning networks depends on making explicit the rule that “everyone can participate.” We should look to design learning experiences that actively invite participation and allow for diverse ways in which learners can contribute, including those who have more rudimentary mastery of content or non-normative modes of self-presentation. The teacher’s role here is to be a “Network Architect”, setting the foundation for a system that respects all individuals.

In both “21st Century Learning” and “Becoming a Networked Learner” we saw a rejection of the banal proclamation that today’s young people are “digital natives”. Class status far too often often determines if learners’ have access to the Internet and learning supports at home or otherwise out-of-school.  Even for those students who do have regular access to and engagement with the online world, we should not assume that they innately know best practices for building sustained, passion-based, self-directed learning using those resources. Instead, learners need the modeling and coaching of supportive mentors who practice networked learning themselves.

And so a rallying call for teachers to resume their roles as learners by engaging in, reflecting on, and assessing their own experiences in connected learning. “Becoming a Networked Learner” gives us a handy step-by-step guide to building our Personal Learning Networks and reminds us of a crucial point: “what we learn about how to interact with others online is just as important as what we learn about the topic at hand.” Moving from an expert to mentor status asks that we remember that how we interact with our learners is often more important than the subject matter content we are sharing. Knowing first-hand the thrill and terror that come in moving from an observational to participatory mode in a networked community can give educators empathy when guiding their learners to make the same move.

Support of students as “whole people” who have value regardless of their level of mastery is key.
 

Space and Time: Homo Ludens and the Third Space

Homo Ludens (the Playing Man) has two basic needs: space and time.  Entering into the flow of playful tinkering — creating, observing, and tweaking in an ongoing trial-and-error game — requires uninterrupted time in a safe, supportive space.

“Connected Learning” suggests that we value informal, out-of-school learning and link it with formal learning in a more coordinated way. Looking into communities as places for learning can reveal troubling disparities in learners’ access to safe and supportive “third spaces”, alternatives to the home and school environments.

Students whose local environments offer little in the way of supportive third spaces — physical or virtual — have limited opportunities for tinkering and play. Advocates of connected learning, then, should not focus only on designing learning environments in school, but also must focus on community-building more broadly.

Public libraries, religious groups, after-school clubs, and makerspaces all can offer much-needed proximal, open-door access to information, social opportunities, mentors, and tools for production and sharing. In a response to this need, many cities have recently seen an influx of “makerspaces”, community spaces for arts, technology, and tinkering.

Assemble is one example of a third space that I visited when I lived in Pittsburgh a few years ago. Hosted in the city’s Penn Avenue district, Assemble’s goal is to connect curious learners — young and old — with artists, technologists, and makers. They work toward these goals in hosting free events for young people, including “Girls’ Maker Night”, “Imaginative Engineering”, and “Time Travel Learning Party” (Assembling Connections).

The second necessary resource for tinkering is time. Quest to Learn is an exemplary case of an urban public school that incorporates connected learning into a game-like curriculum. During the Boss Level project-based challenge, the school gives students most of the day to work on group productions at length. However, this open-ended time for tinkering has been chipped away at under parental pressure. The Quest to Learn case study found that less-privileged families in particular pushed the school to limit connected learning experiences like Boss Levels in favor of more traditional pedagogical offerings, “because their childrens’ options in the New York City school system depend largely on test scores.”

Success in creating schools centered around connected, playful learning requires that we work closely with families and communities to show why and how this approach can lead to learner success. 

Failing to connect with and gain the support of communities when pushing for educational reform can prevent even a $100 million movement from achieving meaningful change (Assessing The $100 Million Upheaval Of Newark’s Public Schools).

As we explore the topic of social learning in the digital age together,
I would love to learn from your experiences.

Please share your thoughts by commenting below!

Do you agree that connected learning reforms should have an equity agenda?

What other obstacles to networked learning do less privileged learners face?

In what ways do you promote networked learning in your instruction?