Category Archives: Teaching and Learning

The “professional thread” includes how to.

More Than Toast

During the “WordCamp” held in Europe recently, one of the reported sessions challenged attendees to map out how to make toast. One attendee reported, “Sounds simple. It isn’t. Groups within the session came up with wildly different process maps — anywhere from 3 steps to 20. Use pre-sliced bread or cut from a whole loaf? Plug in the toaster first or load the bread? How dark is dark enough — and who decides?”

And then, during my ten minutes scrolling Facebook, I encountered these questions. “If AI writes your book, designs your cover, shapes your ideas, and polishes your voice… are you still the author? We are calling it ‘writing,’ but in reality, are we witnessing the slow death of originality in publishing? Technology has always helped writers—but this new wave feels different. Where exactly do we draw the line between assisted writing and fake authorship?”

At first glance, making toast and writing books seem unrelated. But both questions force us to examine the assumptions hidden inside the words we use.

My schedule for today doesn’t leave time to overthink this, but it does leave enough time to connect the two items.

First, when teaching, we must be conscious of our assumptions. Learning should be fun, and life is the best teacher. Those who claim to teach are just here to help. We think things are obvious, but to some, they are not. When we are teaching, we need to be aware of the automatic judgment calls we’re making.

Second, vocabulary must be considered both in teaching and making those judgment calls. If you have a sophisticated toaster and use presliced bread, can you claim to be a toastmaker? Perhaps more accurately, you are a toast assembler. I remember a colleague who often said, “Words don’t mean; people give words meaning.” Vocabulary is not only important when speaking and writing. It’s important when thinking.

Hopefully, we discover that this may be a time when the questions are more important than the answers. In the Facebook post, the poster has revealed his perception or, more accurately, his bias. I don’t know if it’s intentional, but he seems to be looking for support and agreement. Most social media posters are. It’s just one reason for the lack of meaningful dialogue and the basis for keyboard wars.

Meaningful dialogue isn’t complicated, but it can be difficult. During my consulting years, I experienced this firsthand. I was working in a food processing plant, interviewing a line worker. When I asked her about her likes and dislikes, she hated how cold it was in the plant. I asked her what she did with leftovers from dinner at home. She looked incredulous but replied, “I put them in the fridge.” After making the comparison to handling food in the plant, she sincerely said, “Is that why it’s cold? I thought you kept it cold so we would work faster.”

The best learning is exploration and discovery. We don’t have to suspend judgment, but we do need to be conscious of making it.

Whether we are making toast or authoring books, core principles must be maintained. Some fundamentals must remain if we are going to produce good, edible toast and good, readable books. We may take shortcuts to get there, but the shortcut shouldn’t diminish the fact that we’re doing something worthwhile.

Winning by Losing

This article appeared in the June Issue of The Guilford Register.

A small gaggle of middle school girls approached me at first somewhat shyly. They know whining isn’t allowed in my classroom when I substitute, but we weren’t at school; we were at the Piscataquis River Festival. I suspect they also would have claimed what they were doing was actually begging, not whining.

For those who don’t know, the Guilford River Festival is a truly awesome annual event that’s extremely family and kid-friendly. The girls were offering a competition based on a game we sometimes play at school. “Are you smarter than a PCMS student?” They were having trouble getting contestants and begged me to visit their setup and play. Violating yet another school rule, they grabbed me by the hands and dragged and pushed me to their setup.

When I arrived, the girls and their game host immediately disappeared to “strategize,” triggering a certain amount of suspicion in my mind. Upon returning, they all had a noticeable “cat that swallowed the canary” look.

The game host explained the rules and process carefully and quickly. I think I heard him say that the game was “only slightly rigged.” I would be competing against the girls, but I had the first chance to answer the questions. If I answered the question wrong, they could “take the point” by answering correctly, proving they were smarter.

The questions were of a historical nature and not too difficult, but my suspicions were at an all-time high, so I thought long and hard before answering. I could almost hear the clock ticking and the music playing. The first question required a date for an answer. When I answered, the game host called “Wrong! and the girls huddled. After some whispering, they shouted an answer in unison. “Billy Bob!”

“Correct!” Since the audience was small, the girls provided most of the applause for their nonsensical achievement.

The second question required a person’s name for an answer, and I admitted I was tempted to answer “Billy Bob,” but went with what I was sure was correct. Again, my answer was declared wrong. Again, after huddling, the girls answered nonsensically, and the host declared them correct.

I suppose some would have felt cheated, but I found myself laughing and having fun. Maybe it wasn’t just about the contest questions. Remember, the original question was “Are you smarter than a PCMS student?” It was becoming clear that I was not–they were outsmarting me and reminding me that some things aren’t to be taken seriously.

The process continued with the girls winning all the points and me being skunked. It was at that point that the game show host indicated I shouldn’t go away empty-handed and presented me with a t-shirt from the sponsoring local business. My response was genuine: “This is definitely worth losing for.”

I may be risking over-analysis, but the experience left me not only laughing but also thinking. Winning and losing are words. People give meaning to words–it’s not the other way around. Sometimes we win when we lose. I knew I’d enjoy that shirt and the memory of losing to a gaggle of giggling girls who did, in fact, outsmart me. So, thanks to the girls and their sponsor for hosting the contest I won by losing.


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