Seems we just got started and before we know it,

Comes the time we have to say

So Long”

Those of my vintage (and maybe younger, thanks to Nick at Nite) may recognize this as the way the venerable Carol Burnett used to sign off her show every Saturday night on CBS.  As I was reflecting back on this course, these lyrics popped into my head and seemed appropriate to use for my final post.   

We’ve stroked a lot of keys during the last fifteen weeks writing about community—what makes one, what doesn’t, what maybe kind of does, etc.  And I think that it was during these and other discussions that we in 597 became part of an official community of practice.  And though part of me wants to say that some members of this community are more equal than others—because there are some who were way more engaged and productive than others both in their contributions in class as well as out., Wenger would say that “each participant in a community of practice finds a unique place and gains a unique identity, which is both further integrated and further defined in the course of engagement in practice. (75-76)”, which Lis wrote about in her “Are you Living?” post way back when.  I’m good with that.  So even though there were some in our class who did not sit at the table; some who skipped from time to time; some who went through an entire 3 hour session without saying a word,  the CI 597 community of practice is still theirs to call home. 

I truly enjoyed this experience, even though there were certainly times when my head throbbed both in class and out when I struggled to come to terms with a particular thread of discussion or reading.  597 has spawned a multitude of interests for me, and I think has really helped confirm for me the direction that I want the rest of my PhD studies to follow.  The fact that this could be done amid quick wit, friendly ribbing, and lots of Twittering is a major bonus.  I expect to never have a similar class experience, but hope that I do, and will strive to create it in courses that I lead in the future.   I have a feeling that communities of practice have a bit of a viral aspect to them.  Once one has been part of one, one might want to try to replicate them in other parts of life, whether academic, professional and personal. 

Thanks everyone for your contributions to my learning.  I hope I was able to do the same for you.  Good night! Insert virtual ear tug here. . .

Though it’s over (throat constricting) TWENTY years old, I think this closing speech from the Breakfast Club has a strong connection to our discussions about identity this semester. 

We have spoken at great length about identity over the last fifteen weeks.  Some believe that we have but one identity and choose to show different sides of it depending on the situation and who we’re sharing with.  Others believe we have discrete identities (work me, school me, family me, friend me, by myself me) but it could be argued that is the same thing as simply having different sides of one identity.  Fine.  However, I proposed in my “Identity is in the Eye of the Beholder” post that it really doesn’t matter how we define ourselves, because it’s everyone around us who really decides.   We lead very busy lives, and though it would be nice if everyone really took the time to know everyone else, more often than not, like Mr. Vernon above, a label is assigned pretty early on so as to allow for categorization and filing away, resulting in a “oh, so she’s one of those. . Got it.  Next!” types of thought processes.  

How society perceives us is dictated by not only our direct words and actions, but also by how behave when we’re just going about our business, i.e., (or is it e.g.?)  are we nice to the checker at the supermarket, do we throw litter in the parking lot, do we yell at our children in public, do we recycle, etc.   Our online identities, on the other hand, are man-made.  We have no online identity if we never go online.  How we present ourselves to the online community is of our own making.  As a result, it would seem natural that most people would want to promote themselves in the most positive way possible online.  Blog posts are thoughtfully written; tweets are witty and clever; podcasts are scripted or outlined.   So if I’m reading your blog, do I really have a sense of your identity?  Do you have a sense of my identity by reading mine?   I would argue that you know what I want you to know, and vice versa. 

We as educators have different views on what and how to share our identities with our students.  Some are all business:  no discussion or peek into life outside the classroom whatsoever.  Others err on the side of getting too personal.   Disruptive technology can aid in communicating a teacher’s identity, and allow him or her to learn more about students’ identities.   Perhaps if Mr.Vernon had been able to peruse the online musings of the Breakfast Club, he wouldn’t have had to ask them to write an essay on who they were.  And he might have shown a different side of himself if they were able to do the same.  But to think that would give a complete picture of the individual is unrealistic.  Only through putting all the pieces together—what we observe, what we read, what we experience when we interact, etc.—will any of us truly get a more complete & accurate sense of a person’s identity, and see that we are all a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess, and a criminal.   Cue Simple Minds here . . .

Upon further reflection on my blog posts, however, it’s clear that design has played a role throughout the content during the semester, even though we haven't necessarily labeled it as such.  

Throughout the semester, we have discussed design in terms of purpose and appearance of each of the tools that we reviewed.   With Twitter, for example, I discussed in this post about the fact that the design  of Twitter required me to think in very short & sweet phrases, and exercised my brain in a way that regular blogging and emailing did not.  I also wrote in  this post about Pea’s references to design way back in January when he wrote about the evolution of learning tools over time and how 2.0 tools will do the same. 

Believe it or not, I actually thought Wenger’s thoughts on design were the most palatable and practical parts of his book.  I agree with his statement that learning cannot be designed, and that teaching does not cause learning (p. 267).  It’s kind of like being the host of a dinner party.  You can plan the menu, arrange the seating and set the table, but you can’t orchestrate the outcome.  Things burn, wine spills, friendly differences of opinion turn into arguments, etc.   You do your best to anticipate what might be an impediment to a fun evening, but once the first doorbell rings, it’s pretty much out of your control.  The same is true to some degree with learning.  We as educators can do our best to plan, to utilize the tools and resources that we feel are the most appropriate for the level of education and experience, as well as the goals of the participants in our class, but countless other factors will play a role in whether or not we are successful.