Monday, February 25, 2019

Contemplating "Success," Part 2

In Part 1, I meandered a bit as I contemplated success on a more micro or personal level. It had occurred to me that I, at least, need to success on an individual level before I can see success across a broader spectrum.

In Part 2, I want to talk about how we view success over time. Let me give you a bit of context. I work with schools and school districts for a variety of reasons. When I work with individual teachers, we talk about their goals--what do they want to achieve during and as a result of our time together? We rarely, if ever, talk about what the end result will look like or sound like because it is tied to their pedagogy, so could be hard to measure; however, it is possible to know that there is growth or change. When I work with schools and districts, we talk about their goals, too--again, what do they want to achieve during and as a result of our time together? This is much harder to define because I'll be working with different teachers at different grade levels and often in different content areas.

Some years ago I was working as a consultant for a company for which I was doing product training. One of the administrators said he would consider our work successful if his teachers was using that product at least three times a week. I balked a little. Yes, it's a benchmark, I thought, but it's a false benchmark because it may not make pedagogical sense for them to use it three times in a particular week. And what if they use it five times in a week? Do they get "credit" towards a week when they use it less than three times? We talked through his proclamation, but I also realized his conundrum because how else was he going to measure "success"? After all, we know there are multiple factors that could yield what we consider a successful day for a teacher and his students, and we have to realize that if 24 of those students have a good day and 1 does not, it's still a good day overall.

It's this kind of thinking that prompts my own contemplation of how we connote and denote success.

For any given initiative in a school or district, how does one measure success? More students are doing better on tests? Attendance is better? Reports of student misbehavior is down? Teacher morale is better or up? Some of those things are measurable and others are anecdotal, more subjective.

Is there a correlation of a single initiative to student performance? No. What if there are three or four initiatives? How can anyone know if there is overflow of one initiative into another that is helping improve student test scores or performance on tasks or attitudes in school?

What about administrator support? For any given initiative in a building, were participants voluntold or given opportunity to apply or raise their hands? What kind of administrator support is there for any or all of the initiatives? Is that support equal? Does support need to be equal?

What about the role of the consultant? I work in one school district in which there are at least three distinct initiatives for which there are at least three specific consultants. How effective are we and how does the administrator or the teachers measure our effectiveness? I know how I'd report out for that school district and I know that my success self-assessment would be different for each building. Overall, however, I think they're doing a great job and I've seen a lot of growth over the past couple of years. Can I measure that growth and provide specific success factors? Um, no.

So where am I going with this? I know there are those who will tell you that you have to have benchmarks with timelines, that you have to have S.M.A.R.T. goals that are specific, measurable, achievable, relevant, and time-bound. I think that's a worthy objective and I think it makes sense to use the S.M.A.R.T. goals guidelines.

When I start working with teachers and administrators, I invite them to identify a goal for us. Most of them find something fairly concrete, others have far too many things they want to address. We pick one or two things on which to work for the semester. We revisit those goals periodically through our time together and they make adjustments once they have a more realistic view of what they really want to focus on. We think in S.M.A.R.T.-like terms. At the end of the semester or the year, we review. Most administrators are happy with what they've seen and hear.

It's not about test scores. It's about teachers making changes in their pedagogy and students being more engaged. It's hearing different kinds of conversations from students and their parents, from having different kinds of conversations with teachers. It's having teachers will to do quick "show and tell" events with their colleagues. It's a change in culture, a change in atmosphere and attitude.

It's about teachers feeling like they've re-connected with what made them want to teach in the first place. It's about teachers feeling like they have an ally as well as a coach, someone who can and will listen to them vent without judgment or trying to find a reason/excuse/answer, and then helping them work within constraints, or in spite of them.

Success isn't one and done. Success is a slow crawl. It is truly one step forward and three steps back. It is a momentary high followed by a depressingly stressing low. Success is recognizing that today might be a good day or a great day, or not. It is putting in the effort and doing the work, no matter what.

It's about students saying things like "Can we do that again tomorrow?" or "That was the hardest math I've ever done. That was so fun!" or "Can we stay in from recess to finish?".

And maybe it's success for that moment. But it's a moment that everyone felt and saw and experienced. And that gives teachers hope. And that gives students hope and motivation.

Monday, February 18, 2019

Contemplating "Success," Part 1

Success factors. We talk about them often. Probably too often. I know I (too) frequently ask administrators and teachers what success looks like and sounds like in their buildings.

Like many others, I've fallen into the S.M.A.R.T goals trap of thinking about success, and I know better. There is a lot of value in using S.M.A.R.T goals; however, sometimes what we know as "success" isn't measurable nor time-bound. It's not quite "I'll know it when I see it" because there is often a specificity to what we recognize as success. But sometimes we don't know until we see it, though might mean we can't articulate what success looks like and sounds like because we haven't been clear on our intentions and goals before we've started an implementation or an initiative.

I have always loved this quote from Up From Slavery: An Autobiography by Booker T. Washington: "I have learned that success is to be measured not so much by the position that one has reached in life as by the obstacles which he has overcome while trying to succeed." Of course, in context, it has more nuanced and complex meanings for Mr. Washington, a black man working towards his very particular experiences of success.

What I like about his definition is that it underscores that true success acknowledges and honors the journey. That's what I hope students know, even as we push them towards compliance and task completion. If they believe that success is, for example, finishing a worksheet by the end of a class period, we have done them a serious and egregious disservice.

In "Staying Mission Focused as a Leader," Matthew Howell asks this question in his conclusion: "Did you give your best effort for the students you serve?" It's a compelling question and one of several we could ask ourselves. I have to wonder how many teachers and how many leaders will and do honestly answer that question with a hesitant "no." I wonder how many internal dialogues reflect the vacillation of their rationales as they struggle to try to get to "yes," but believe that through the exhaustion, the frustration, and the host of other factors, they cannot. Did they give their best efforts under the circumstances? Probably? Is that enough? I think so.

So let's follow this a bit. What gets in the way of a teacher, or an administrator, giving their very best for their students? Many will say time as that's the favorite barrier to any accomplishment. And if it's not time, it's some combination of time, money, resources, and/or training. Or it could be because there are just too many initiatives and this is just "one more thing." Sometimes the reason teachers or leaders can't do their best is the students themselves, or the parents. In other words, it is always something outside of the individual that constitutes the barrier for success.

Or is there?

You see, I'm not really responsible for anything other than my own actions, attitude, and behaviors. Sure, there are dozens of things conspiring against me every day, but I still have the choice of how I respond.

I can't help but think of Benjamin Franklin's Autobiography. In Chapter 9, he articulates his "Plan for Attaining Moral Perfection." The man aimed high, and that's likely one of the reasons he was successful. But what I've always admired and appreciated is his daily schedule and his two questions: "What good shall I do this day?" and "What good have I done to-day?"

Big questions. Good questions. And they remind me what might constitute "success," at least for me. Did I do as much good as I could throughout the day? Did I, despite what I perceived to be as unnecessary and annoying questions or "bad" behavior or attitudes of others, persevere and do my best? Did I leave the internal monologue as an internal attitude release only and focus on making sure I was doing the right thing, even the best thing? I'm never going to answer a resounding "yes" because I'm a flawed human being. But if I can honestly say that I did my best to manage the complexities of the day that threaten to confound or undo me, then I can say I did my best and I was successful that day.

And that is all very well and good for a day-to-day analysis, if you will, of success. But what about success over time? Ah, that is the question for another blog post. . .coming soon.


Monday, January 28, 2019

The Siri/Alexa Effect: It's a Real and Significant Thing, Part 2

The Siri/Alexa Effect was mentioned the other day in a professional learning session when a teacher noted how easy it is for kids to get homework help from Siri, and that's precisely one of the things I talked about it my first post about the Siri/Alexa Effect.

So let's talk a bit more about these fabulous resources, and I'm not being tongue-in-cheek. Like a proud parent, Amazon likes to tout new skills Alexa is learning. Apparently Alexa has over 70,000 skills, and counting. You can find Alexa's top 2018 skills here, or just ask her about her top skills.

Let me say this about Alexa: there are a lot of game connections. A lot. There are other features for home security and management, task management, and wellness. I don't think education was at the forefront of developers' minds when they started developing Alexa.

The voice assistant boom isn't limited to Siri or Alexa, of course. In the run-up to Christmas, we saw Facebook and Google advertising their versions with video and video call capability as well. What tech insiders are trying to tell us is that this technology isn't nearly as sophisticated as we might think; not yet anyway.

Music is the number one reason to use the smartspeaker, or the news or weather. It's stuff we can find anywhere else pretty easily but it's just so much easier to say "Alexa, what's the weather today?" than go all the way over to the computer and make sure it's out of sleep mode and find the icon for The Weather Channel and then, oh my goodness, tap the icon and then actually read the weather information. Exhausting.

But I have an understanding of why people dig the access of Siri and Alexa. And I understand the suspicion many have of Siri or Alexa secretly recording everything we say and not just to make the AI interface smarter. In my house, when we're talking about Alexa, we say "Voldemort" so she doesn't try to respond to something that isn't an actual request.

Some time ago I was talking with a first grade teacher was annoyed that her students didn't understand why they needed to learn how 2 + 1 equals 3. They seemed to think it was enough that they knew that 2 + 1 = 3. They're in first grade so the nuances of place value or number sense is still a work in progress for them. I've been thinking about this a lot and I realize this is likely an outcome of the Siri/Alexa Effect not to mention the Wikipedia/Internet Effect. I mean, why should I know the why or how of something when I can watch it on a YouTube video or when I can just look it up on the internet or ask Alexa? I'm being facetious, but these first graders are likely reflecting what they see happening in their homes with their parents and any older siblings.

Just recently I read an article titled "The Rising Relevance Gap." Let me sum up: school is boring and what kids are learning isn't relevant. Oh yea, I can hear teachers protesting loudly and rightly so in most cases. However, let's think about this a bit.

Last week a facilitator shared a story about a lesson she'd done with some students. They were learning about the life cycle of plants, watching a plant grow and learning a bit about what bees do to help plants grow. The teacher mentioned something about the possibility that some of them might build a robotic bee if there weren't enough bees in the world. One little guy went over the makerspace and started gathering stuff. When asked what he was doing, he said, "Building a robotic bee. Why wait?"

Indeed. Why wait?

Did he know how? No. But he didn't care about that. He cared about figuring out how to create a robotic bee because that could solve a problem. And knowing how to solve a problem often means knowing how to ask questions.

A friend of mine asked me if she could use Voldemort to ask the names of an athlete's children. It took us a few times to craft the question to get to the answer. There was important learning on our parts to figure out how to ask the question to get the answer we wanted.

Just recently I found an article from last August about universities experimenting with Alexa. Students could ask about the university--what time a building closes, the final exam schedule, etc. The universities want more: they want to be able to set up smart tutors. And students want more: they want a personal assistant rather than "a reactive device."

But I want to go back to that smart tutor because I think that's what could really make the most sense for K-20, but then we might be in Google Home, Amazon Echo Show, and Facebook Portal territory. It's one thing to ask Alexa the answer to 3 + 2 or even more complex math problems, though she has her limitations.
Alexa did fine with some basic questions, as you can see. But then I asked her how to calculate a cube root.  Her answer was not helpful. Then I gave her a longer word problem. I asked her, "Alexa, if the width of a square is 4 and the length of a square is 6, what is the area of the square?" She asked me to repeat it, which I did, and then she told me she wasn't sure. I guess Alexa isn't a fan of word problems either.

I realize, though, that one of the reasons kids watch a lot of YouTube videos is because they can learn stuff from them. And let's be real: kids are not alone. I started baking bread again this winter and my first few loaves came out looking really weird. I couldn't remember how to shape the loaf, so what did I do? I looked for a video on YouTube. I can imagine being up to my wrists in flour and bread and asking a smart assistant for a video on how to shape a loaf of bread.

I can imagine being up against a deadline and asking a smart assistant how to solve a differential equation. (Not really, but I've had some weird fixation about differential equations recently; I can't explain it.) I know I'd need to see the process.

I can imagine being up against a deadline and needing someone to proofread my paper, and that one is a bit tougher. But what if there was a way for me to share my paper with the smart system and have it read the paper aloud to me while I followed it with the text. And what if the smart system were smart enough to recognize problem phrases, awkward transitions, shifts in verb tenses, etc.?

I can imagine being up against a deadline and needing a way to review for a test. Wouldn't it be amazing if the smart tutor had access to a teacher's old tests, the study materials, and my notes and could quiz me? And, even better, help correct me and direct me where I need to go to review?

I think one of the significant points is that students can learn many things through using a smart system. Maybe they learn how to ask better questions. Maybe they learn that some things they don't really need to learn because they can always ask or look it up.

I believe what's important for all of us to consider is what we'd like students to be able to learn. Perhaps if we helped developers understand those skills, they could begin to design with those ends in mind.

Tuesday, January 8, 2019

The Siri/Alexa Effect: It's a Real and Significant Thing, Part 1

So a child is doing his homework and wants to get through his winter break math homework a little faster. What to do? What to do? Oh, of course. Ask Alexa. Which is what he did. And when he realized that Alexa could help him get the answer to 3 + 2, well, why not just ask her to help with all of his math homework? Yes, why not?

A quick aside: homework over the winter break is dumb. I know teachers think it might help a winter break slide, but it's still dumb. Homework as a general rule is dumb. But that and the whole slide things are different posts.

I've written a bit about the Siri/Alexa Effect here. There's nothing scientific about my thinking, just observational anecdotal data, which is enough for me to realize there is an issue. A problem? Yes, of a sort.

I first observed it when second and third graders were shouting questions at Siri because they didn't know how to or couldn't be bothered to do the research for something they were supposed to be doing. Let me unpack that a bit. First, they were shouting questions. Why? Because they didn't know how to frame questions and they figured they could simply repeat the question louder and maybe she'd get it. Of course, by then there are several students shouting similar questions at Siri on different devices and the students don't realize that each device is picking up what is now just noise. I can't do one of those "get your attention" whistles, but I can shout, which is what I finally did since the teacher seemed oblivious. . . a different issue altogether.

Second, they didn't know how to frame questions. They had no idea how to ask a question other than to repeat what was on the worksheet. Yes, they're in second and third grades (similar projects, different classrooms, different teachers), but that's part of what teachers are supposed to be helping them learn how to do. Right? Hmmm. Hang on to that thought.

Third, they were in a hurry to finish the project because they just wanted to get it done. They saw no value in the project. They apparently felt whatever learning might occur through that project was of no value to them. In their defense, they're urban kids so the whole habitat thing of prairies and such is foreign to them. They were completing a worksheet and then they were going to do a pizza box diorama. Why were they in a hurry? Because if they hurried they'd get to play games on their iPads.

So much going on there, right? I can imagine people suggesting that Siri be disabled on student iPads, which, by the way, a lot of teachers have already done. I can imagine people being outraged that Alexa might be in schools because it might enable students to cheat, but it's not just Alexa or Siri. It's not the technology that disturbs me.

I use Google all the time to do research, but I also know how to do research. I know how to craft a question. I have an idea of what I want to find so I know how to revise the question or the search terms if I'm not getting what I think I should get. I also know how to review the resources returned to me and to look at more than the first three items. Far too many students of all ages have no idea how to do any of that. That's what disturbs me.

It also disturbs me that students see technology as a resource for entertainment: videos, Snapchat, Instagram, texting, etc. They seem to see it less as a resource for learning, but, what's more insidious, they don't seem to value learning or learning how to learn. THAT is the Siri/Alexa Effect. Why should they bother to learn when they know they can ask a device anything and it will tell them?

A corollary to the Siri/Alexa Effect is that students, like many of their parents, don't feel the need to dig any deeper than that first item returned. They know nothing about search engine optimization, that organizations and people have ways to boost their sites and resources so Google or Siri or Alexa finds them first. They don't realize that often Siri and Alexa seem to default to Wikipedia. They don't know or seem to care that whatever answer they get may not be accurate, may be overly biased, may not be true.

There is a lot of learning science research going on just now. I have a stack of resources to read, to think about, and to synthesize. What I do already know is this: there is no easy answer. The other thing I already know is that we have to got help our students learn how to learn, and to value the process of learning.

When we ask them to complete a worksheet or a project and all of the emphasis is on the worksheet or the project (or the homework), we tell them that the end product is the most important thing. We also tell them that the process of learning is less important than their compliance to complete the worksheet or project or homework. No, we don't say that in so many words, but what we emphasize and how we emphasize it speaks volumes about what seems to be really important and, what they "hear" is that learning itself isn't important. That is becoming the worst possible outcome of the Siri/Alexa Effect.

I'm not suggesting we cut off students from using these technologies, but I am suggesting we need to help students learn how to use these resources for more effective learning. The fact is that such resources are a future for our students, so let's learn how to use them well, to determine how best to craft questions to do research in such a manner (more on that in a later blog post), and to be wise and savvy enough to continue beyond the first answer offered to us.

Wednesday, January 2, 2019

2019 BTS: Let us be grateful

It's 2019. People are already pontificating about all sorts of things that could happen in 2019 though the year is barely in its second day (in the United States, in Central Time) as I write this. The reflection of what was the best, and worst, of 2018 continues and will eventually stop. Thank goodness.

Teachers and administrators are already working to start school again, thinking about those back-to-school lessons, how to greet students as they come back from the winter break.

Educators have talked a lot about mindfulness and SEL this past year, so let's speak of those two things in context of back-to-school. 

First, let us be mindful that not every child had a merry Christmas nor a happy new year. Not all holidays were merry and bright; some were dark and difficult for a whole range of reasons. Second, let us be realistic that for many of our students, school is a refuge and they will be grateful to be back at school even if they seem to be nominal students. And some of our students might be stressed because they're worried about the inevitable "What did you get for Christmas?" question.

You might invite your students to begin a gratitude journal (another resource is here), and model that by saying that you're grateful your students returned to school and how happy you are to see them. Your gratitude is about your students and maybe their smiles, not about stuff. If you're working with younger students, they may not yet have the writing skills for a journal, but they can draw pictures. So maybe they're grateful for school, for recess, for flowers. It doesn't matter but helping them focus on the good things they experience in their worlds is important. The more they express gratitude about small things, the better able they might be able to see and express gratitude for larger things as they learn to see and experience their worlds differently.

As students develop those skills for seeing their worlds and experiences differently, through a lens of gratitude, through a greater sense of safety and even control, perhaps, just perhaps the way they see and think about learning will begin to change for the better, which is the gist of SEL.

Expressing gratitude for one thing takes little time, but the payoff is bound to be substantial over time.

So thank you for what you do for your students every day. Every day.


Friday, December 21, 2018

What IS in our DNA? Anything about learning?

I've been hearing and reading a lot about what's in our DNA or what our brain is hardwired to do. Apparently we are or are not hardwired to remember stuff. Healing is in our DNA as is empathy. I'll track down more on some of those topics over the holidays for other blogs, but I'd like to talk about the Siri-Alexa Effect and its impact on learning and creativity.

Sir Ken Robinson has been talking about the absence of creativity in schools for a while. We've pummeled the factory model of education for a couple of decades now and we're beginning to see some changes in classrooms, though often in the form of bouncy balls and wobble chairs as teachers try to figure out what flexible seating means for them. I think kids are naturally creative and inquisitive, but we tend to stifle that in classrooms and often unintentionally. Hang on to that for a minute.

In 2014, there was a study about learning and our DNA. It's an interesting article. What I found particularly compelling is the notion of whether or not we're "good" at math or reading or something else. Compared to everyone else in the world? Maybe. I need to share a substantial part of the end of the article.

Plomin also points out that genes don't predetermine performance. Appetite is just as important as aptitude, he said.
"The brilliant mathematician — that's all they do for decades, they just think math and work on math," Plomin said. "It's not like it comes to them with a flash of inspiration. It's really a long, long process of thinking about these things."
The study results show that attitudes about learning are out of date and need to change, Bates said.
"Just as we no longer blame mothers for schizophrenia, we should be humble when blaming schools and parents for not every child learning as quickly as we'd desire," he said. "The implications, I think, are that children really do differ at very deep levels in how easily they learn."
Another article in 2016 addressed "the interplay between brain and behavior." It didn't really add a lot to my arsenal for thinking about such things, but the author may have inadvertently reminded me that one of the reasons I'm "not good" at playing the piano (or any other musical instrument) is that I wasn't willing to practice. I think I'd like to know how to play the cello but mostly I like the idea of knowing how to play the cello. I like math, but it isn't my passion. Nor is science. If I could get paid for reading, thinking, traveling to talk with others about ideas, and writing, and doing some teaching, I'd be one of the happiest people on earth.

One of the things I've come to realize in my work with teachers and students is that most of the professional development work we do focuses on the teacher and the teaching. Oh, it makes sense. . . to a degree. After all, the teachers is a facilitator of learning so the strategies an educator learns will help him find better ways to help students learn.

So many of our strategies are on helping students figure out how to complete a task so they can successfully complete a task. We seem to spend much too much time, directly and indirectly, on asking students to focus on completing tasks. Somehow we hope they will equate that with learning.

Which brings me back to my question about whether or not learning, the process of learning, is part of our DNA. I think it is and based on absolutely nothing scientific. See, kids are naturally curious. They are okay with taking things apart and seeing what else they can make. They don't seem to mind trying to figure out how to work something or do something or even learn how to read based on what they hear people do when a book is being read to them. Give them some technology and, when they're young, they'll spend time figuring out how to make it work or one of their classmates will rush over to show them how.

But then they get past about 2nd grade and all that inquisitiveness and willingness to try to do something seems to have been wrung out of them because we have focused so much on the task and its completion. I wonder how many times a teacher says something like, "You've got to get this done." It becomes, then, all about the task and nothing about the process of learning, which is, I think, rambling down a trail prompted by curiosity and creativity.

And because teachers worry about how to grade something--and there are lots of factors to contribute to their thinking, too, and why grades and performance become their focal points--they prefer students to complete a task in a particular way. And creativity gets boxed out.

Now. The Siri-Alexa effect. It goes back further than Siri but it's really blatant with these tools. Kids (and adults) ask a question. They may have to rephrase a few times for Siri or Alexa to be able to give them the information they need or want, but then they're done. "Research" accomplished. Answer retrieved. Because isn't the point to get the right answer? Is there any value in being curious? or being creative in one's approach to answering a question or completing a task?

Teachers complain that kids won't read closely. They want to find the answer right away. They want every answer to be "right there." Just like when they ask Siri or Alexa or Google. They don't know how or think it is important to know how to read more closely, to take their time to read, to realize that part of that reading and thinking and figuring out process is called learning. That being curious and thinking creatively about something is part of the process of learning.

That the point of asking them to read and think and figure out is to learn how to learn.

Or is it?

Or have we become so focused on making sure students complete tasks and in a particular way that we have forgotten to teach them that learning is part of the process and, as one of my friends noted, the process is the process.

We want, or maybe only I want, students to be engaged in the process of learning. I'd love for them to get so lost in looking something up that they forget what they were looking for because of all of the cool stuff they are finding and learning about. I want them to read something and instead of racing to find the main idea or the key argument, I would love for them to say "Hey! Wait a minute. What about. . .?" and want to do the research to go find out more rather than simply taking the word of the author.

Does that mean banning Google, Siri, or Alexa? Nope. We know that asking Siri and Alexa more questions helps the AI software behind the device get smarter. But does that process make us smarter or just more dependent on whatever resources Siri or Alexa happen to tap into (often Wikipedia, by the way).

But that does mean making sure students know there is more to this school experience, so much more to learning, than being the first to get the right answer. And that's a whole different mindset for educators, students, and parents.

Friday, December 7, 2018

Thinking about majors. . . and employability

I remember talking with the parents of a freshman advisee who were worried what their student might be able to do with a degree in English. The student's dad said the word "English" like it tasted bad. I sighed, inwardly, I hope. It was not a new question and neither was the palpable concern that parents were going to be investing a lot of money in a piece of paper that would not translate to opportunities worth mentioning.

Even then, and this was over a decade ago, it was easy to tell parents about the skills their student would gain as an English major and that this learning wasn't as much about the literature he would get to read, but the work he would have to do because of the reading; because of the research; because of the writing; and, of perhaps most importantly, because of the thinking, the necessity of learning how to make connections, the requirement to articulate those ideas, and the expectation of listening to others, making connections with those ideas, and articulating any change of thought or perception. I wish I could report on the trajectory of that particular student, but, alas, I cannot. I do know that some of my English majors went on to be teachers, others went to graduate school in different fields, others went into the military, and still others found a profession and line of work that had nothing to do with English or literature and yet makes them happy.

I've been talking with teachers about their concerns about their juniors and seniors who seem to lack interest in a meaningful future and with students who respond with a shrug or with some semblance of an idea of what they might maybe kind of sort of want to focus on in college. It's hard to tell if they don't know about their options or if they don't care. One of the teachers I was talking to is alarmed that one of her seniors wants to play in the NFL so he wants to go to college to go pro and, if he doesn't get drafted, he'll just work at Taco Bell. Nothing wrong with wanting to work at Taco Bell, but the teacher is frustrated that his vision goes no further. On the other hand, right now, he can't imagine not playing football. That's his dream. At least he has one.

These days there is a lot of emphasis on STEM, and rightly so. We do need more people in science, technology, engineering, and mathematics. However, we need them to be creative and collaborative. Personally, I think we need them to be familiar with systematic inventive thinking. I'm sure some of what they're teaching and discussing has changed from what I learned back in 2004 or 2005, and that's good. It should evolve. But one thing that was revelatory to me is that sometimes the best solution is a simple addition or a simple subtraction. It was transformational thinking in the purest sense and recognizing that transformation doesn't necessarily mean massive redesign, but perhaps one small change making a large difference in a way of doing, in a way of thinking.

Because I do a lot of work in STEM, and because of my own unusual background, I'm aware that the liberal arts are often maligned and misunderstood. I'm also aware of the concern of underemployment of those with any degree, the subject of many a report this past spring.

Traditionally, students have pursued jobs that aligned with their major; therefore, a business major looks for jobs that seem to reflect the courses taken for that major or the kind of work they think they want to do. However, it's true that one's major does not define one's career. A degree is representative of something in which a student may be interested. I qualify that because I've had my share of students who graduated and realized they had a degree in something they didn't really want to do or didn't really like.


Soft skills aren't new but they are of greater interest to employers now. And why? Well, take a look at those top skills in that graphic at the top of this post. What do you see? Anything about a specific major? Nope.

Seth Godin wanted to call them vocational skills. Meh. I think that what we call "soft skills" are life skills. We need to be active listeners and good communicators whether we're collaborating with work colleagues or life colleagues. Emotional intelligence has value outside of the work place as does, well, pretty much everything on that list.

While a degree might be important for the work graduates might do some day, there are several things to consider. First, the job students get when they graduate may be on the path to their ultimate career or may be a stepping stone to get to where they really want or are meant to go. Second, some students right out of college often lack a clear sense of self and also don't really know how far they can go or what all they might be capable of accomplishing. Limiting themselves to the major on their degree might be self-defeating. Having a sense of their capabilities and their competencies might help them figure out what they really want to be doing and start them on the path to get there. Third, many of us didn't really hit our strides in our work life for a few years or even longer. Fourth, plenty of us have changed career paths more than once, and that's okay.