Learning with Computers: Chromebooks in my Classroom

Recently, schools all over the nation have been giving students their own computers: iPads, laptops, Chromebooks, or similar devices. Why do this? What does it mean for education and for these kids?

While some would like to keep our children and our educational system in amber and stop time, it is neither possible nor healthy. Regardless about how we feel about the digital age, it is our children’s home. We may wax sentimental about our own school days, but our experiences have less and less in common with present day students.

In short, it is irresponsible for educators to do anything less than get on this train. If we don’t, we leave ourselves, our students, and our communities behind, watching those on board bullet into the future. We live in a web infused, computer driven, technological world; our children must be ready for it.

So I signed on! For the past five weeks, my students have had their own devices: a Samsung Chromebook. I have been teaching for nearly thirty years, and using computers as a tool for almost as long. Yet, this month has given me a taste of the marriage of education and technology.

In the past, my Freshman English classes would make periodic trips to the computer lab. The computers were primarily for two purposes: writing and research. Technology was simply a replacement for typewriters and card catalogs.

Now, when my students arrive in my classroom, they retrieve these small laptop-like computers from a cart in the corner. It is a lightweight window to the web. It doesn’t have programs or applications on it. It has almost no storage. It can do one thing: connect to the web via the Google Chrome browser. It has transformed my classroom and is slowly doing the same to my students’ education.

I did research and received a little bit of training in the use of the equipment and in the pedagogical issues that came with it. I did my own reading and research. I had some hopes, goals, and questions when bringing this tool into my classroom. Yet, I am learning on the job.

My first goal was to enhance the goals that I already had for my students: teach them to become better readers, writers, speakers, listeners, and thinkers; to make them more effective communicators and critical thinkers; to engender a love of literature and language. It was my hope that daily technology would open up new avenues to reach these objectives.

I want to increase student independence and autonomy. I want to see if we can help students manage and direct their own learning more effectively. I want to teach students to help each other learn.

And of course there is the obvious: I want students to learn how to use the web and other technological tools to reach the targets I have listed above. Their smart phones, tablets, computers, and cameras can be far more than entertainment devices; they can use these tools for growth and good.

The addition of technology to my classroom also raised concerns: Will the focus be too much on the technology, and not so much on the processes that the technology should facilitate? Is the Chromebook a good choice for my students? Are there new technology skills that I must add to my curriculum to make sure that kids can use these tools in a productive and safe way? Will I see benefits commensurate with the time and effort it takes to adjust to this new world?

It has only been a month, and I am discovering, changing, and figuring out the new landscape. It is a lot of work. Lesson planning is taking far more time than it has in the past. I would be foolish if I didn’t use this blog to think aloud about what is going on in my classroom. Stay tuned for the continuing drama of Chromebooks in Freshman English!

Driving Away

My younger child is learning how to drive. He has taken traffic safety classes, behind the wheel lessons, and is driving our family vehicles – under supervision, of course. We dread it and look forward to it at the same time.

I have very clear memories of my experience learning to drive. I didn’t take private traffic safety class. I started the second semester of sophomore year. It was January. When we got to school in the morning, it was cold but clear. During class, we drove around the back parking lot learning how to handle the car. I didn’t really push too hard on the gas pedal. I had my ten minutes and sat in the back while my classmates took their turns.

Sometime around lunch, it snowed. It snowed a lot and kept on snowing. My brother and I were in a theatre production, so we stayed after school for rehearsal. By the time my father arrived to pick us up, the snow was several inches deep and still falling; it was a snowstorm.

I slid into the passenger seat and my brother went into the back of the car, “I bet Dave would like to drive home,” he teased. My father looked at me, “Would you?” I shrugged, “Let me put it to you this way: I have pressed the accelerator twice.” With that, my father got out of the car and walked around to my door. I traded places with him and drove home.

Our five-minute drive took twenty minutes. My father said very little. He made some very calm suggestions and pretty much just let me drive. From that moment on, if I got into a car, I drove it. My parents instructed me gently, calmly, and in a manner that demonstrated that they had the greatest confidence in me.

Unlike my father, I have the benefit of already having taught a child to drive. I rode with both my daughter and my niece as they learned to drive. In both cases, my calm and supportive parents were my models.

Driving is our ultimate symbol of independence and power. It is frightening to parents for good reason. Let no one make fun of drivers education teachers. It is difficult enough to sit next to one’s own children when they are learning to drive. It must take stomachs of iron to teach other people’s kids!

My daughter and niece are good drivers, and my son is getting there. We moved slowly at first: starting in a parking lot, graduating to quiet neighborhood streets, and then Sunday mornings on major roads eventually heading to the highway. And there are moments: the overturns as we bump the curb, the near misses of parked vehicles, the turns into traffic that are saved by the good driving and graciousness of strangers.

Yet how we approach teaching our children to drive speaks so strongly about how we see our relationship. Handing my son the keys to the car is not only tremendous because he can now do damage on a grand scale, but because it communicates a host of messages. It says that I trust him. It says that I want him to be fully adult and independent. It says that is it okay to drive independently from those who love you. It is literally letting go.

And I don’t like letting go. I like control and I prefer my kids close. But this isn’t about me. This is about teaching my children that it is time take the wheel. Often while we are driving, my son asks me, “Which way should I go?” My answer is always the same, “You are the driver. You decide.”