My oldest son is 12 and has attention
deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). He was diagnosed with that and
a couple of other learning disabilities when he was in kindergarten.
The great news is that through special education resources at our
local public school, he's been able to overcome his disabilities,
with the exception of some fine-motor skills such handwriting (or in
his case, the lack thereof).
Where we live, “middle school” runs
from the sixth grade to the eighth. Given that our
son had not only handwriting challenges but the everyday challenges
that most 10-and-11 year-olds face in getting themselves organized,
we jumped at the chance to put him in our middle school's “Laptop
Program” when he matriculated. The school forced us to buy an
overpriced laptop from a specific company that sells overpriced
products to schools, but we had high hopes that the program itself
would create an organizational paradise in the Hartley home and
overcome my son's handwriting issues.
Paradise was never found.
The laptop program was poorly thought
out. Although every teacher had to maintain a Web site that
documented nightly homework requirements, each teacher had a
different way of doing this. There was no consistency whatsoever.
Some teachers had too much homework and expected us to understand the
intricacies of their specific class Web site. Others barely updated
their sites. Even though the laptop forced upon us included a
calendar tool as part of its software package, the school didn't use
it. So instead of students subscribing to each class calendar and
then getting a single aggregated view of the calendar on their
laptops, we had to search six different Web sites every night to see
what homework was required. To add insult to injury, none of the
software tools used by the school's laptop program really required
the particular overpriced laptop that we'd been required to buy. All
of the software was Web-based. In other words, we could have accessed
it via any laptop running any operating system.
This is not a rant about the school.
What I learned in working with the teachers is that they have no time
or support to manage all of this technology. They work incredibly
long hours in the classroom, so any work they do on the computer has
to happen after hours. They assign too much homework, and don't
understand how to turn a computer into a learning tool, but that's a
subject for a future blog entry.
The point is that the laptop didn't
deliver on Paradise. Sure, it was expensive and booted up and ran
programs and accessed email and the Internet. The problem was that
we, as parents, had placed too much hope on a single tool. A laptop
doesn't teach—teachers do. Learning how to use a word processor is
not learning how to write. Nor is learning how to create a
PowerPoint presentation is not learning how to present or to think or
to persuade. In fact, as a tool, a television with
compelling content can probably teach more than a computer with
access to the Internet and an office automation suite.
This is why I'm so supportive of
Curriki.org. Curriki is an
online environment that's about sharing curriculum created by
teachers and other teaching professionals. It's free. It's global.
It's a community of educators helping other educators with
high-quality teaching resources that may or may not be delivered by
computers, but that will focus on the purpose of education:
learning topics, rather than learning tools. Current offerings on
Curriki range from lesson plans, assessments and media clips to
complete textbooks, all available at no cost. Anyone can join
Curriki. In fact, Curriki and the AARP are
collaborating to encourage retired educators who are subject
matter experts to share their curriculum, review content curricula,
and help train teachers. The focus is the content.
When he was in seventh grade, we
moved our son to a school that had smaller classes. His entire seventh
grade class is now 22 students. They do not allow the use of laptops
in the classroom. Despite that, we've noticed no
adverse impact on my son's academic performance. The lack of computers is, however,
forcing him to improve his handwriting skills.
My son's story is far from
over. We'll see how it develops, but the one thing we've learned so
far is this: The tool is not the teacher.