Showing posts with label communication. Show all posts
Showing posts with label communication. Show all posts

Thursday, May 3, 2018

Embroidered cloths and dream treading.

"Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams."


Y.B. Yeats.

It is easy to lose sight of what is capital in all of this.

CARE.

FELLOWSHIP.

Yes, I said "fellow ship."

We are in this together.

For the duration.




A clock ticks.

Embroidered cloths.

It is easy to suit and to be tied.

Who is the suit for?

Whose are those ties?

Fancy dress, dressing up ridicule, naked embarrassment.

It is easy to make anti-dress-code statements.

It is easy to make others feel ill-at-ease.

Tread softly on my dreams.

A penny drops.

Listen, be attentive to others.

Fellow ship.

I love working with Marcin, we have been working together for nigh on six years.

We were working in a class for teachers together a few months back and we were late.

I asked them not to speak but individually to write down how they felt, what they thought about our late arrival.

I then asked them to note down their first impressions of Marcin, myself and a Columbian student teacher without speaking to us or asking us any questions.

It is fascinating how much information they were able to glean from the situation, our appearance.

Marcin was dressed in a formal jacket.

I wasn't.

Marcin was considered "serious".

They didn't really say how they considered me...

Embroidered cloths.

It was a beautifully structured, carefully researched presentation.

It's cloth was woven with finely referenced citations.

It concerned and had impact.

It did what it said on the box.

One character jumped out at me.


Embroidered cloths.

"Did you see his Complexity presentation for the conference in Corsica?" 

I hear them discussing in one of the autoethnography preparation sessions.

"It had 74 slides...that was crazy!!!"

I remember my discussions with my colleagues.

"OK, I'll cut those slides, you are right it is a bit too much."

I was quite proud with having cut it down to 74 slides.

They sort of looked at each other, resigned, and sighed.

No doubt they felt fortunate that I would be on my own in this.

They trusted me enough to accept their names as authors on the first slide.

I am thankful for their trust.

Many haven't gone so far as to trust me.

I hear them discussing in one of the autoethnography preparation sessions.

No doubt they were concerned about what crazyness I would come up with for the next presentation.

I hear their laughter.

I loved their laughter.

We are in this together, with our differences, with our foibles.

What joy to feel freely accepted!

What joy not to feel straight-jacketed!


Embroidered cloths.

Marcin came up with a structure that he liked.

I was only too happy to let him take the lead in this.

He is a proper researcher.

I am...well...I am me.

I like working with constraints.

I learnt this late in life.

Constraints offer space for play.
Constraints offer space for creativity.

I was only too happy to do a proper, timed, hierarchical, scripted presentation.



I felt almost like a grown up.


Dream treading....

Well, I only suggested the working title, the idea that it might be a collaborative autoethnography, that it should bring us together, Teresa, Claude, Marcin and myself in Krakow, Christine in Clermont.

CLAVIER WTF?

I had considerable joy submitting our working title to the research laboratory in my request for funding.

I was only slightly miffed when the title was quietly dropped somewhere along the way.

Between November and April, we worked on our individual narratives, in our individual ways.

We worked together on trying to make sense of our common and individual experiences with CLAVIER.

We grew familiar with our ways of meaning.

Little by little, prompted by an idea of Teresa which nobody really understood or could find a good reason to reject, we started working on a presentation quite unlike anything that any of us were familiar with.

What struck me was the fun, the trust, the creativity of the venture.

Depending on who was available at a given moment, the "performance" would emerge, shaped by each and all of us.

Working with just twenty minutes, I found that they only way to express complexity, emergence, nurtured networks, student led activity et al was with a video form.

As an exercise it was immensely stimulating. 3 minutes, no more than 3 minutes.

Once in Krakow, we had a padlet, slides, a script, stage directions but no real idea of how it might play out as we had never had time to rehearse.

We had never been in the same physical space together at the same time.

Marcin and I met online while I and Claude were eating and drinking in a restaurant to prepare for the presentation on "Sustainability".  There is no "sustainability" without food or drink.






We planned for a "dress rehearsal" of "Lived experience of connected practice."  the day before the "performance".

Teresa was stuck in a shower.

We were going to improvise with Lukasz taking the role of Teresa.

Then I found Teresa out of the shower.



We were saved.

We were able to rehearse "Lived experience of connected practice."

This was indeed lived experience of connected practice.

Dream treading 

The sustainability presentation had gone to plan, now we were sort of ready for the "performance".

We positioned ourselves around the room.

I felt in my element with space to roam.

I felt in my element with possibilities to improvise, to play with the situation.

Teresa moved to take control of the tech.

I remember feeling relieved that she was there.

It was scripted.

I remember feeling really relieved that she was there.

Marcin felt more at ease seated near the front.

I suggested he move towards the middle.

Marcin felt more at ease seated near the front.

Claude was comfortable somewhere near the middle.

I remember feeling in my element at the back, able to observe, to sit with the audience.

I remember Teresa putting her arms on my shoulders to quieten me to let the others speak.

I shall remember the joy of feeling part of something.

Something emerged between us.

Something is not the word.

There was a sense of energy, a space, a connection between us.

I have known this in relationships.

I have known this in churches.

I have known this in theatres.

I have known this in nature.

A sense...of being a part...together and that there is something which we have which connects us.

In aikido they talk of KI.


“While we can learn or study techniques for almost anything we might want to accomplish, real understanding is not the mere accumulation of knowledge. Understanding cannot be realized by listening or reading about the realization of others. It must be achieved firsthand via substantive, direct perception in the moment.” 
― H.E. DaveyJapanese Yoga: The Way of Dynamic Meditation



"But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams."


Y.B. Yeats.

Friday, August 12, 2016

The other.


"you're othering me."

i won't speak to the other.

the other is the problem.
the other is the problem.

i will speak with you (myself).

we (myself, i) will speak about the other 

we (myself, i) will speak about the other.

the other is the problem.

don't  you, i, we agree?

i agree, it's historical.

i know you, i, we would.

the other is the problem.

fortunately we have us, (myself, me)

"oh, i don't know."


Psychopaths and policy.



"L'enfer c'est les autres."
Jean-Paul Sartre


Friday, February 12, 2016

Brass bands/Big brands.

I am working through Daniel Bassill's Tutor Mentor Resources.

It is both humbling and inspiring.



I fall upon a title of a blog:

"Involving youth in meaningful ways."

I can think of no better description for how I see my role as an English teacher:

Involving youth in language learning in meaningful ways...

As I rummage through the mass of information on the Tutor Mentor Sites, I come across another document which attracts my attention:

"Faith-based tutoring and mentoring strategies which any group can benefit from."

I find the following quote:

"One person trained twelve human beings who went o­n to so influence the world that time itself is now recorded as being before (B.C.) or after (A.D.) his existence."

"This quote was taken from the introduction of the book "Jesus, CEO: Using Ancient Wisdom for Visionary Leadership",written by Laurie Beth Jones and published by Hyperion.It shows how much power o­ne person has to change the world. We hope it inspires church leaders to use there communications systems to change the future for millions of at-risk youth throughout America, and the world."

I let my mind wander...

I find the following quote:

Coursera propose un accès universel à la meilleure formation au monde, en partenariat avec des universités et des organisations du plus haut niveau, pour proposer des cours en ligne.

Growing up...

I am the son of an Anglican minister.

I had no faith.

I clearly wasn't going to make it in evangelical christianity.





Growing up...

I am the nephew of an advertising executive.

I had different competences.

I clearly wasn't going to make it in advertising.





Growing up...

"I shall work in public relations," I said to myself.

I had different values.

I clearly wasn't going to make it in public relations.

Growing up...

I arrived in France.

I had a different language.

I clearly could only use English to make it in teaching...


Things are changing...

We can widen 'our' horizons from our armchairs today....

Such power...



Growing up...

My early life was rhythmed by church activities: sport, brass bands, beatles tribute bands, bible reading classes, Whit walks, school visits, pastoral care, baptisms, marriages, burials...

Growing up...

My early career was rhythmed by public relations activites: horse-racing, pipe bands, store openings, promotional tours, giant sausages, client meetings, photo opportunities for Miss Blackpool, bucks fizz...

Growing up....

My present career is rhythmed by educational activities; online and offline exchanges, sport, play, music, information literacy classes, student exhibitions, conferences, team meetings, Youtube videos, blogging...
.

Bridging divides.

When I look at Daniel Bassill's work I have the impression of bridging my own divides.

He was an advertising executive and uses his competences to build caring community.

My uncle fashioned jingles to build market share.

My father shared his passions to build congregation.

Building communities...

I come back to faith:

"One person trained twelve human beings who went o­n to so influence the world that time itself is now recorded as being before (B.C.) or after (A.D.) his existence."

Christ is a powerful model for an educational networking strategy.

Education is a powerful means to change society.

I am not alone in this belief.


We have the means to network widely and deeply.

Do we want to educate soldiers for a 'religious crusade', consumers for a 'global market', 'citizens' for a 'free society'?

Those working passionately in education have diverse beliefs, values and motivations.

What can not be doubted is the strength of their resolve...for their/our better or for their/our worse.



For those who complain about the politicisation of education, let's be clear:

EDUCATION IS ONLY EVER POLITICAL

There are some educational projects, I consider unbearable.

Nietzsche or God or Mammon or Nation or State may be the inspiration for unbearable horror.

Growing up...

We must remain attentive and critical. 




I don't want to work towards building market share.

I don't want to work towards building congregation.

I don't want to work towards building armies.

I want to work with others enabling the emergence of peaceful, caring community.










































Friday, June 26, 2015

Ugly duckling.


You're not going to play with us, you're useless (or words or other signs to that exclusionary effect).

I was rather upset. 

I moved on feeling lonely and unloved.

OMG, they all know each other.
OMG, they are using savant lexus.
OMG, they are so creative.
OMG, they are speaking a language I don't understand.
OMG, and so on ad infinitum.

How do we enable others to see our vulnerability beneath the scary veneer?

How do we enable others to see that we do care?

How do we enable others to dare to take a step towards us?

How do we level the playing field a bit so that we are all in a position of newbies?

On reading Maha's piece here http://blog.mahabali.me/blog/pedagogy/inevitable-exclusion-symbols-hashtags-and-networked-spaces/ on exclusion, I think she is right to direct our attention to a reality.

People don't necessary have to get on to enjoy time in a common space, though it helps, but the tension might also encourage creative explorations...

Ah, that reminds me of a birthday party.

http://tachesdesens.blogspot.fr/2015/04/a-birthday-party.html

Now I would like to think about how to enable ourselves to differentiate signals of others in our networks on and offline.

I want to be alone.

I am just looking.

I need help.

I don't want to disturb but I want to play.

I want to overcome my own negative labelling of myself. (I am not creative, I am not competent, I am shy and that's bad etc)

I want to play only by nurturing others.

I want to play doing scary stuff but it's to show you it's not as scary as it looks.





Sunday, September 28, 2014

Out of the box.

The small print in the small ad in the Manchester Evening News said nothing of the nature of the contract.




There were no prospects of advancement mentioned.

I had no choice.

I had no means.

The door of the flat had been ripped off by thieves, the possessions taken.

I was left in my doorless empty box, with a giant jigsaw puzzle.

It was all that I could do to put the pieces together on the carpet.

I have no memory of whether I finished the puzzle.

Expertise in jigsaw puzzling didn't pay well. 

I opened the door to the Victorian office block and prepared myself for interview.

There was no interview.

He cared for nothing about my story.

He led me to a melamine walled box.

Inside, there was no sign of  a person having spent any time there.

There was a grey dial phone, a scruffy copy of the yellow pages, a script in small print on one plastic covered piece of scruffy A4.

"If you sell two ads in this magazine for civil servants, in the next two days, you have a job."

"Small basic salary, the rest commission."

I looked around the confines of the box. 

There was nothing. I was nobody.

I resolved myself to make the box a job.

To my utter amazement, there were people on the other end of the phone who would buy this crap.

Cold calling, no product to see, contract sent in the post as soon as they said 'Yes' at the appropriate moment.

Objections overcome, job I had.

For the next eleven months, I dialled the dial on the grey phone one hundred times per day, to make two sales.

The boredom was such that I decided to colour the numbers black with a Bic biro to make dialling more of a challenge.

I was proud of my prowess of dialling cold, blind.

The people on the other end were targets.

They were nothing.

They were nobody.

Drone central
For the next eleven months, I was deafened by the drone of a robot.

Every twenty minutes or so, the robot would stand up with a pre-contract and head off down the corridor to notch up a new sale.

He specialised in car-dealers.

I never spoke to him.

Robots are not good company.

For the next eleven months, first thing Monday morning, I listened to the moustachioed sales manager reeling off the figures before disappearing into his office.

Each week, there were those whose heads dropped...

There were those whose heads dropped over a period of two or three weeks consecutively...

There were those who would suddenly be absent...

Box to fill
There would suddenly be a space in a box to fill.

To my utter amazement, on experiment with various 'sales pitches' to various 'client streams', I realized that what sold was not the script but the connection of excitement, the acceleration of a heart beat, the comic tone, the sudden absurd eruption in the life of another.


Back to the presence
I suppose this is what Maha was talking about as "3rd Discourse"? 

I would never have been able to call it other than:  'people buy crap'.

Numbers game.
I never regret the eleven months which hardened my resolve, to go beyond 98 'Nos' to get to the precious, unexpected 'Yes's'.

I was nobody, I was selling nothing, I could be nobody selling anything.

Keep on, keep on, never give up.

Half a life later, I am investigating those elements which connect us to the other, which enable us to journey a while with a fellow learner.

I have nothing to sell to anybody.

I am becoming aware of the prosthetic aspect of language, of digital technology.


We are as if amputated from those that we attempt to communicate with.

What does this say about our desire to connect, to search for meaning?

We appear at times paralysed to overcome the obstacle of screen, keyboard, interface, distance of time, distance of culture.

We must investigate how to overcome our disabilities, our reduced frames of reference.

My distant close friends are my fellow explorers in these new spaces of humanity.

We are connecting via emergent CLAVIER picnics, exchanges of blogging, of sounds, of images, of tweets.



We experience the awe of connecting dawn with midday, city, with countryside, office with home, idea with emotion.


We are experiencing the extraordinary joy of connection of empathy.



We are experiencing the extraordinary dissolution of self into simulataneously distant contexts.

We are reimagining our experience of place, of friendship, of co-learning.




For all the tweets, for all the apparently aimless searching, there are people out there waiting to open their arms to our dreams, to welcome us as fellow travellers.

There is trust, there is respect for our differences.

They appear able to forgive our short-comings.

They are worth all the time spent struggling to overcome the boxes which artificially separate us.

We must rewrite our relationships, our social contracts together.

We are not robots, we are sentient, caring beings.

Here's a flower to Maha and to you all.






Monday, September 15, 2014

Ailes du désir

Freeze frame, worrying static, silence difficult to decipher.

We hold our breath,

1, 2, 3, 4, 5......

No sign of movement.

Un ange passe.

Massive frame, frozen in Dutch master-piece, a dim light glimmers.

Impatience, gesticulation, fidgeting anxiety.

Be still.

Be attentive to that moment of connection.

Un ange passe.

Little by little a reassuring message can be detected, coming from afar, as if from down a well.

A well of longing.
A well of welcome.

Be attentive to that moment of connection.

Communication, established, we adjust our rhythm to the murmur of a giant.

Be still.

Little by little we become aware that we are in the company of a chorus of angels.

Some of them take human form and emerge slowly from the shadows.
Others, perhaps more shy of contact take only symbolic form.
Indiscriminately promiscuous in their shape-changing magic.

They are etched out in chaos.
They are axe-hatched in trees.
They appear in clouds.
They disappear above the waves.

Murmuring, murmuring, meaning.

Un ange passe.

We are.
We are my friends in AWE.

My friends there is sweet music in the air.
Open your ears, be still to hear.

For Terry, a giant. for Keith an angel-hunter, for Susan, an angel-seeker, for Kevin an angel-friend





Thursday, September 11, 2014

EMOTI[CON] (n.)
















EMOTI[CON](n.)

(via @gardnercampbell Ecologies of Yearning.)

"Academia is to learning, what prostitution is to love."
[TALEB remixed.]

Connected communication synthesised:
[SIMON]

# :-)

[ANON]

Epiphany:
[SIMON]

'Eureka!!"
[ARCHIMEDES]

Science sucks!
[ANON]

What more is there to say?
[SIMON]






Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Noman's land.

The lines are drawn up, the roles are defined, the territories are determined.  At one side of the class-room, stands a teacher. The students are grouped together waiting for any lull in the content offensive to engage leisurely conversation.


The teacher draws up a plan of action for the new campaign on the board. The exercises are ready, the instructions are well-rehearsed, the number of future failures are statistically modelled. Survival is for the fittest. Success is for the elite. Cohorts of students are evaluated, streamed, trained, tested, decorated. Competition is good for the character, team-work is carefully regimented, unsupervised collaboration is suspect.


I was a reluctant RAF cadet, the uniform was scratchy, I was a poor shot, I loathed dehumanising drill. Taking orders from a teenage moron who gleefully made us march into a brick wall killed  off my Action Man dreams of becoming a commando...  


A breezy Anglican church school, the bravery of fallen heroes in the World Wars was celebrated here, the dates of battles were memorised; critical analysis was viewed dimly. 


Glorious were the victories on the rugby field, the cricket pitch,the hockey shore!


Somewhere else,further afield, Paolo Freire would write,


"Education either functions as an instrument which is used to facilitate integration of the younger generation into the logic of the present system and bring about conformity or it becomes the practice of freedom, the means by which men and women deal critically with reality and discover how to participate in the transformation of their world."


Technology plays a vital role in enabling the change of relationships in society. With the railways came massive industrial expansion, the public school, the public holiday. With the machine gun and heavy artillery came the trenches, the Somme.  With the railways came mass-mobilisation and monumental casualty counts. The 'in between' enemy lines, countries, or classes  would become 'No man's land.' 



  • No man's land is a term for land that is unoccupied or is   under dispute between parties that leave it unoccupied due to fear or uncertainty. Wikipedia  

This space, allotted for daily butchery during the Great War was also spotted with odd outbreaks of peaceful dialogue. Bizarre truces would be negotiated when troops from the opposing sides would exchange presents, souvenirs and a passion for football. Such events remain eery tributes to the absurdity of a system. 

With new technologies come new challenges, new opportunities for transforming societies or maintaining conformity. Ubiquitous connectivity enhances peer to peer communication, disrupts old hierarchical organisations, blurs the lines between work and play, challenges the roles of teachers and learners. It is not sure that we are for the moment in any way freer.


If drones have replaced soldiers, shiny interactive tablets might deliver expertly conceived global uniformity to hungry pupils. Games which let you win engage. Such edutainment however seductive does not necessarily enhance independent criticism or creativity. If predictably achieved 'educational outcomes' are reassuring for the stake-holders, they may be useless to the individual in the long-term. Curiosity requires peace to develop. 


Should we venture into the Noman's lands which exist between individuals, between informal and formal learning, between physical and virtual presence,between generations and cultures, we might aim to imagine a more diversely sustainable future.


"Through dialogue, the teachers-of-the-students and the students-of-the-teachers cease to exist and a new term emerges: teacher-students with student-teachers."
Paolo Freire.


Learning together, Noman's land might just become Everyman's land. Lines can diverge~converge. Conversation, however leisurely will inevitably be more essential than content.


Paolo Freire Pedagogy of the Oppressed 1968