Death of a Website

In the summer of 2000, I took a workshop on creating websites. We used Front Page, a program that didn’t make us code directly in HTML, and made it easy to create simple web pages. I was hooked. I created an elaborate teacher website that looked like the computer interface from Star Trek: The Next Generation.

At first, my website was a simple way for students and others to get the handouts that we used in class. I linked the homework calendars, syllabuses, specific assignment sheets, and handouts in HTML form.

Then I realized that I could do far more. I created an FAQ page to address the many parent questions that I had fielded for decades. I took many useful handouts, from grammar and writing to study strategies, research, and public speaking, and put them in a special resources section of the website. I posted my schedule in great detail so students would find it easier to make appointments with me or get in touch.

I speak at several school presentations throughout the year. I talk to seniors and their parents about college essays and freshman parents about responding to progress notices. I took these presentations, my notes on them, and related information and created web pages for them. A few years later, I recorded all of Charles Dicken’s A Tale of Two Cities with explanations and annotations. I posted them on my website.

In short, I put my teacher life on the web for all to see.

Students were not yet carrying around computers during this time. Neither the Chromebook nor the iPad had been released and portable computers were very expensive. However, we had desktop computers throughout the school, and almost every student had access to one at home. Handwritten assignments were becoming rare, and most students produced their work on computer.

I suppose you could call this era Web 1.0. When we started to use tools like turnitin.com, a server to which students upload their work that checks for plagiarism and allows for digital feedback, I needed to make some significant updates to my website. I incorporated Google products into it.  I gave it a makeover.

By this point, my website had several thousand pages, most of which were always accessible. In about fifteen years, I had fully integrated this website and its online resources into the fabric of my teaching.

In the summer of 2015, our district updated its website, and all of a sudden, I could not get to my website and make changes. I called the person in charge and was told that my website had been “legacied.” I almost threw up. I thought I might cry. I explained that this was not a little three-page site with my phone number and email address; it was an integral part of my teaching! I begged not to have it taken away!

 

I was heard. My website was “migrated.” I continued to change the quotation on the front page weekly. I updated it so it had everything students, parents, case managers, and others would need.

After we distributed Chromebooks and kids brought their individual devices to school, the website became a digital blackboard, a powerful way to extend the classroom beyond the walls of the school.

My district is now going to use a learning management system called Schoology next year and it will work as well or better than my old website. Schoology will be one-stop shopping for all learning materials, grades, and school information. It will be better than my old website.

So I am about to voluntarily close it. No one is making me. It is time. It has lived its life and now there are tools that will function more effectively. Mr. Hirsch’s Online Classroom will close after almost eighteen years of service. That’s a long run for technology in the twenty-first century. I don’t know if the old site will still be accessible, but I don’t think that anyone will miss it. It lasted longer than any of my computers.

Who knows how future children will access school information and on what devices? Perhaps I hung on to the old website too long. My goal is always to help develop independent and self-directed learners. My old website helped me do this. I am hopeful that the new system will do this even better. At the end of this school year, my website will truly be officially retired. It is sad, but it is time.

A Rubric For Thank You Notes

Dear Hirschs, Thank you for the generous gift. It was nice to see you. From, X.

Is that a thank you note? What does that really communicate? That note has only a shred of gratitude. It says that we didn’t merit much energy or care. Its message is almost the opposite of the words. I don’t think that is what the writer intended. The writer didn’t intend anything, but the writer wasn’t that thankful and it shows.

There are two issues here: the first (and more important of the two) is that the idea that thanks are necessary. The second is that they are communicated sincerely. Children’s thank you notes are a learning opportunity. When children send thank you cards after receiving birthday, holiday, bar or bat mitzvah or other special gifts, they are getting out of themselves. They are thinking about the feelings and point of view of another. This is a critical developmental task that, if not accomplished, will handicap their relationships for life. Perhaps if we had more thank you notes, we’d have fewer narcissistic people.

However, I must point out that many adults either neglect the thank you note or write them poorly. Therefore, here is the Hirsch family thank you note rubric. This is our thank you note measuring stick. Thank you notes tell a great deal about both the sender and the nature of the relationship.

A good thank you note is personal. If the wrong name came after the “Dear,” it would make no sense. If the name is misspelled, that has a message, too. The note speaks of the relationship between the sender and receiver. Even if that relationship is new or indirect, it addresses that. So notes may say, “It was so nice to see my parents’ good friends,” or  “It was wonderful to share our wedding with my new friends from work.” Sometimes, you are acting as an agent for another person. Your thank you note is no longer about you; it is about the giver’s connection to your parents, employers, or spouse. The specific relationship is the core of the note. It is more important than the item that generated it.

A good thank you note is specific. It says, very directly, why the writer is thankful, “Thank you for the beautiful vase,” or “ I love books and I will think of you as I use the gift card.” Even if the gift was money or intangible, it should still be mentioned, “I will put the check to good use,” or  “It was so kind of you to let me stay overnight.”

A good thank you note has some degree of detail. It is not generic. The typical formula says that you should mention how you will use the gift or why it is important to you. That is sound advice. There are other options too, “I loved playing with your dogs while I stayed with you,” or “The frame reminds me of one I always loved in Aunt Sadel’s apartment.”

Of course, a good thank you note is timely. People quote all sorts of rules about how long you have before a thank you note is too late. I have even heard that wedding couples have a year to send the notes. A year? Really? What would you think if you received a thank you note twelve months after the wedding? You probably sent the gift a month or more before the wedding anyway. I wouldn’t remember what I gave!

A late thank you note says that saying thanks wasn’t a priority to the writer. By extension, it feels like the relationship is also not that important. A good thank you note should reflect the care and effort put into the gift.

Which brings us to the question of how to send a thank you note for awful or thoughtless gifts. If it is really the thought that counts, then these gifts barely qualify. So what is wrong with sending, as my old college professor used to say, a  “thank you and %@#$ you” card? A lot. We answer kindness with kindness but I would want to give the other person the benefit of the doubt and answer thoughtlessness with thoughtfulness. The card need not be long, but it should be as sincere as possible. It should not be sarcastic or critical. If there are problems with the relationship, the thank you note is not the way to address them.   

My grandmother was the only person who ever wrote thank you notes for thank you notes. I remember asking my father, “Do I need to send her a thank you for the thank you for my thank you?” Of course, he told me to just call my grandmother. Always a good idea.  

But her intention captures the real importance of the thank you note – or even the thank you email: gratitude and connection. A thank you note should be a sincere expression, not only of thanks, but also of the connection between the person writing and the person receiving.  It says, “You showed that you care. I appreciate that and I value our relationship.”