I spent quite a bit of time planning the talk, but the execution was not exactly what I had in mind. I was plagued by repetition, false starts, and a general sense of incoherence. I have attempted to piece together as much of the original talk as I could.

The main idea is:

How can we encourage teachers to look beyond their fear, follow their passions and begin to create open honest online identities that reflect their true selves in order to better connect with their students for a more authentic learning environment. Eventually creating a system that not only allows for teacher creativity and expression but actively promotes and encourages it, so teachers are not too busy or scared to express themselves online, and actually given time to reflect, create, and share.

Life as an Open Book from Intrepid on Vimeo.

I would appreciate any and all comments.

• Send out a request on Twitter for participants.
• Create a Google Document.
• Find an image from Flickr (Make sure to pick one from the Creative Commons)
• Wait.
• Wait some more.
• Start to write.
• Leave your poem as a comment on the original page.

Well, we were at it again. This time we decided to use an Etherpad:

Cut and paste this link to view the photo, and then work together to create a poem inspired by the image. This is live and we can see each other create. Don’t be afraid to type over the work of others. Click “unnamed” on the right, to add your name and choose a color. Open the chat to chat with the group. Here is what it looked like:

We had about eight people show up. I don’t think the final product is what is important, but more so the process. It is interesting to see how attached we become to our own language. The connections through words, ideas, and imagery is what makes this idea powerful.

While it may feel a bit forced at times, the idea that a group of people from around the world are working in real time to try and give expression to a shared reality is fascinating. After all isn’t this connection, this expression the purpose of art, language, are common humanity.

Maybe I am reading too much into this. Anyway come join us next time:

MeltedSearching
They sent me here
Siberia
Nothing
nothing.
I asked for pain
They gave me blue
Nothing but blue

The ceiling is moving
Another evaporated horizon
no moon, no sun
There’s a rhyme somewhere
maybe irony
Would it be a sin to laugh out loud?
I’m thinking of jumping
above and beneath the glass
lifeless.
What is life?
Ice.

her soft voice singing
postcards
songs about postcards
funny
would she even read it?

Or would it be pinned by a butterfly magnet
to her popsicle-stained fridge?
their tiny fingers
long gone

Fridge.
This place is ice, no warmth, no red,
Blue. Nothing but blue
periphery
Frigid blue – frozen loins push forth no new life here.

I stretch out my tongue
Seeking wind
Something to cut, or freeze
To feel
Something
Like the rip of the tongue from the metal flag pole
torn flesh so tender
and the rest gone

The bottle empty. Fire going out.
Does it matter?
Nothing can taste warm here.
Tongue is useless.

but begs to speak, to sing, to be heard
to connect.
frozen flesh forcing meaning
where none should be.

Scream at the sky, lunatic!
Drown your puny voice in this everlasting lake.

But then I feel
I yearn
to drink?
to pee?
ruled by the body
my eyes deceive

her eyes deceive
more failed tissue
how do you expect to experience
with nothing more than
blood, muscle, and bone.
eyes, tongues, useless
out here, in there.
you are everyone, everywhere.
I am in you let me out.

the bottle lies
it always does
I’ll drown in a sentence
in a lake of Curacao
in the land of Vodka, czars,and Lenin’s ghost
his dreams lost too
in this blur

Baikal is not big enough to encompass these lies.
What lies beneath? Lies.
They sent me here.

Image from Jordandouglas

There is so much disorder in the walls of my head that it will take a much more diligent person than I , to clear some space to simply sit and breath. Is this the future we are preparing our students for, a world where we are nothing more than overflowing cups of knowledge and information? Are these the skills we so champion? We have access to more information than any other time in the history of the world, but so what? Once we are full, then we are full. The information then simply spills over the lip and disappears. Why aren’t we teaching our students how to breathe and make room for their souls? Why aren’t we teaching our kids how to disconnect and simply watch the clouds? Why aren’t we teaching our kids life beyond the screens? Why aren’t we teaching them to how to empty their cups?

I know what I need to do, but I find it harder and harder to do so. I understand that there needs to be a balance. But this sense of balance is becoming more and more difficult to find in the enthusiasm of Ed Tech cheerleading. Sometimes it just feels like all of this is too much. I often find myself needing to make time to reconnect with myself, before I can venture back into cyberspace. As an anti-social creature, I have a hard time putting on the happy face deemed necessary for social networking. How do we expect adolescents and children to make sense of so much networking?

I am starting to think that networking with strangers is not necessarily such an important skill to have. Surface level exchanges of information do not seem, to me, to be such a crucial talent. We need to be concentrating more on building communities, teaching our students as well as ourselves how to connect to other people on a more human level. But is this what we are doing? Is that possible on Twitter? Is that possible through this text?

We have all read at length about what it takes to be a networked learner, but what are the skills needed to be a good community member? How do we truly get to know people? I need something more than to be connected to nodes of a network; I am looking to instigate a cultural shift that connects people based on common goals and interests. I want nothing less than a new human paradigm. I want peace and connectivity, not another link to new tool. I am tired of talking about what the 21st century will look like, I want to talk to you, create art with you, and change the world with you. I am tired of reading about what you know, I want to know what you fear, what you dream. I want to become more human with you.

Technology is only useful if it connects our humanity and moves us forward as a community. Anything less is simply data overflowing from a full cup. Come join me, leave a comment, let’s chat on Skype about a topic other than Ed Tech, let’s create an art project together, and let’s build a community.

• Send out a request on Twitter for participants.
• Create a Google Document.
• Find an image from Flickr (Make sure to pick one from the Creative Commons)
• Wait.
• Wait some more.
• Start to write.
• Leave your poem as a comment on the original page.

Ideas for next time:

• Set a time limit
• Take a screencast of the process so as to watch the “growth” of the poem
• Look at something like Etherpad.

Here is the image and the poem:

Cerulean Tide

a wall of day
and a door to night
creaking hinges
keeping time
footsteps
shuffle
in and out

this is where we met,
the smell of brine and barnacles
moving the sea, slaves to the moon
and desire

warm smoke escaping from a door
in flux soon to close
forever, or so we thought

our eyes consumed, engaged, divorced
time peeling another layer
pushing us together
awash in the sound of
laughter and a distant snare drum

touch gave meaning
memories embrace
did we?
if we choose to believe, we did

this is not ours to keep
never was
but what is left?
closed door, new season
but still, the blue
and blue and stillness blur

choice led us here then
and again
choice parts us after we give
“I want to fall in love with a living poem,”
you said.

another couple in
another out

I laughed and kissed your serious brow
learned the tangles of your hair, left alone too long
waiting for someone to know you
your only desire
for someone to know you

this place will be different tomorrow
in the light
we will see the decay
if we choose

what is the scale for measuring moments?
I say pain
you look away and take a drag on your cigarette
can’t help but disappoint you

your eyes have moved on
I wonder if you will ever be happy
Or if you will discover there’s no such thing

will you come back?
the wall was green, yellow, eggplant
your letter will say.

will your memories lie?
it was blue
it was dark.
we’ll never really know.

The poem is average at best, but it is the process of creation we are concerned with here over product. More thoughts on collaborative art soon.

Later I received a Tweet from @jhawtin telling me about the sonnet she wrote. Here it is:

A wall of daylight met a door of night.
Creaking hinges kept time with our journey,
the drift of lazy footsteps, left and right,
wrapped in smoke and shadow, a comedy.

Awash in laughter, haze and amber pints,
eyes engaged then slipped across the hecklers.
We watched the distant snare drum catch the light.
Crowds moved on. In comfy chairs we rested.

We stayed here under summer’s scudding skies.
Photos captured tangle haired embraces,
the buoys and bikes and lobster pots you liked,
colours rich with time and salty laces.

A season ends, the colours change, and leave.
A smile still sees you here, our dark retreat.

Leave her comments on her blog, Cranky Mango.