StickyBits

Stickybits?  What the fun are stickybits?  I’m not exactly sure myself, but I’m trying it out on my blog.  I may be asking for trouble, yet that’s par for the course with me idnit?  Anyway, back to stickybits.

I was turned onto stickybits by my much more tech savvy brother, Jake.  The idea is that you can scan anything with a barcode (as long as you have a phone that supports their app – iPhone or Android) and then leave a “bit” about that code.  A “bit” can be a comment, a picture, an audio note, a video, a hyperlink, and so on – so it is very multimedia friendly.

So, let’s say you just bought an iPad.  You can scan the barcode and then attach a picture of all the magical things you can do with your new $500 electronic slate.  Or, you could leave video of those magical things.  Or you could attach audio praises for Steve Gods, I mean Jobs, and his new world changing device.  You can also rescan your barcode to show all the places that your iPad has been.

But the fun doesn’t end there.  Even in this highly consumptive world, not everything has a barcode.  The stickybits answer is to download your own barcode to use for any item you want.  This is what I did for Literohde.  I downloaded a barcode, stuck my first “bits” to it and – viola! – I now have a multimedia comment section for my blog.  Hopefully.

The idea behind the barcode on my blog is that now anyone with the correct app can scan the code which will show where they are at and then leave their own “bit” inspired by or commenting on the blog or a specific post.  Whether that be a comment (written, audio, or video), a picture, a video, or a link, it is now up to the reader how to respond.  And if that is not enough, in order to make sure you feel super special, remember that this part of my blog is reserved for only those awesome someones with the correct app.  And we have now come full circle back to a reminder of how magical Apple really is.  Meh.

So, cave into the pressure (I did), buy the right phone, download the right app, and start sticking various bits to my blog.

Me List

I generally hate the type of email or note that orders you to write down random facts from your life and then send it to 10 other people in the next hour, especially when they hook on the proverbial “or something bad will happen to you in the next week”. No duh! Something bad generally will happen to me in the next week! Anyway, I originally wrote this list because an old friend asked and if she thought enough to tag me after all of these years then I figured it was the least I could do. And I thought I would post it here so that through reading it you might gain a better understanding of the psyche of the author. This is my “I told you so” if you continue to read my stuff.

• I am afraid of the dark.

• I love the color orange.

• I finished a Master of Education in Curriculum & Instruction with an emphasis in Alternative Education in 2008.

• I like peanut butter, mayo, and green olive sandwiches. Don’t knock it till you try it.

• I am an uncle twice over – one nephew and one niece.

• My favorite book is The Stranger by Albert Camus.

• When grocery shopping, I have been known to leave the store without taking – or even bagging – my stuff.

• I have just recently come to realize the true state of my depravity, which though it might seem counter-intuitive, is quite freeing. I got nothing left to boast about. All that I have left is honesty. Some of you know what I’m talking about, some of you want to know what I’m talking about, and all of you are welcome to ask.

• I say bring on global warming; it is too freaking cold out.

• I am afraid of open windows at night.

• My mother got me saying the word “hinky” and I will never forgive her for it.

• I am taking a break from school, but I am trying to decide what to do for my PhD – teaching or child psychology.

• Yak Trax have saved my life more than once this winter.

• Brown Kool-Aid rocks.

• I have the most talented little brother…artist, designer, photographer, biker, technophile…and the list goes on.

• X equals negative b plus or minus the square root of b squared minus four ac divided by two a.

• I am an “all-or-nothing” kind of person.

• I am a foodie. Goat cheese and Kalamata olive stuffed pork chops anyone?

• I have a pen fetish – those in the know call them writing instruments.

• Love and live loved.

Self-Made Prisons

Wok Wrapping 101
Originally uploaded by alternativerohde

It’s been three months and I have not written much of anything. And share or publish anything? Ha. Not when I get into one of my all too frequent why write when in reality it accomplishes nothing and is therefore really just a waste of time moods (As if the alternative I chose – sitting around eating pizza and watching movies – is so productive). Not to mention that over the last three months a lot of life has gotten in the way. I know neither are good reasons. Heck, the second reason is not really even mine. I stole the phrase from a friend because it seemed to fit my situation. I hope she can forgive me for plagiarizing.

The best way for me to describe my life lately is that it is like this wok I tried to gift wrap a couple months ago. The wok has a purpose. That purpose just did not happen to be fitting into the only box I had in the apartment. So, I had to adapt the box to the wok. With a little creative thinking (outside the box, one might say – I know, gag me with a spoon, but I could not resist the obvious cliché), I was able to wrap the majority of the wok in the box – sans handle, which stuck out making the entire thing look like a reject from a department store gift wrapping service. I was embarrassed, but I put on a happy face and faked confidence in the whole situation.

In the end, I was surprised to find that my lack of planning and the wok’s refusal to be boxed in and the resulting orange monstrosity was not only seen as odd and a little weird, but also admirable and inventive. And I am happy to report that the wok is serving its true purpose well – it makes a mean stir fry…though this is only second-hand knowledge since I have not been invited over to the recipients’ apartment for dinner, or lunch, or a snack….

But I digress, back to life is like a wok (Seriously, I do not know where I come up with this stuff). I do not know about you, but I secretly desire a life that fits neatly into a box – actually it would probably look something more like the shoe cubbyhole structure they had in kindergarten so that each piece of life fit perfectly and quietly into its respective compartment. My career sits solidly in its own spot, as does my relationships, my possessions, my ego, and my future. Each impervious to the corrosive nature of chance, bad personal choices, and the choices of others.

Unfortunately, the reality of life is that it is an irregular, almost ethereal, substance that does not like to be boxed in. It ebbs and flows where it pleases, completely irrespective of borders or limits. I have only evanescent control, at best, over my life within the idea of choices. With the choice to do this or that or go here or there comes the feeling of stability. I am making choices and charting my course in life; I am in control. Until life moves back in, either quiet and deadly like so much CO or loud and destructive like a pack of perturbed pink pachyderms on parade.

It is then that I am reminded that at times life will do what it pleases in spite of my best efforts, plans, choices, or wishes. My job succumbs to the unseen hand of economics. My relationships and ego teeter precariously on the edge of human nature, agenda, and personality. My mp3 player, my computer, and my phone all decide to begin simultaneously acting very hinky (I take this example of life getting in the way as a divine suggestion that I get an iPhone – just kidding, mom – for now).

Life is not under my control. And that knowledge scares me. All too often it scares me to the point of hopelessness, indecision, and inaction. If this is the way the world works, I will just remove myself from it. If this is the end result of relationships, I will just build up walls to keep people at an arm’s length. Since I am already naturally pensive and introverted, it is not too hard to do. And pretty soon my fear and cynicism has painted me into a corner that I do not know how to get out of. I am now defined as the quiet guy who does not like people thereby reinforcing the lies I had already begun to believe and perpetuating the black hole of loneliness. And while I do not want to be something I am not (e.g. the life of the party), I do not think what I have become is me either. The question then becomes, “Where do I find my true self?”

As I already have the knowledge that life is not under my control, the answer to the former question seems simple – give up trying to control it. Yet, as with so many things, while knowing the right thing is easy, putting it into practice is difficult. Putting the answer to my issue of control into action can, as I see it, be done in one of two ways. One, I can have a whatever will be will be attitude, taking life as it comes at me, reacting to and dealing with things on a moment by moment basis. Two, I could really believe that my true self is found in God. The former seems just as tired and isolated as my customary method of shutting down and building up walls. I would be so busy reacting that I would scarce have time to even stop and think about who I really am. The latter, because so much of my view of God is based on what I have experienced here on earth, brings with it a myriad of other problems.

Over my 32 years on this earth, I have built nice boxes around God. Not even just one box, but many. And many of those boxes even contradict each other. Let me explain. One box I have built is the knowledge that God sent His Son, Jesus Christ, to earth to live a perfect life, die a horrible death, and return from the dead, all so that I can be reconciled to Him. In another box I house the terrible taskmaster God who is just waiting for me to screw up so that He can annihilate me with the snap of his fingers. Because I have the knowledge of God’s grace, but the experience or perception of God’s wrath, giving Him full control over my life seems risky. What if this relational, personal God who wants, and even delights in communicating with me, and Who I am only beginning to discover, really is not Who He says He is? And since He so often uses people represent Him and work out His will, how can I trust that it is really God and not just the well intentioned or not so well intentioned agenda of man? After all, I do not think I will be receiving a burning bush or a talking donkey anytime soon, so the biggest example of God I have at the moment is people, whom I intrinsically mistrust, shy away from, and think I am not worthy of. Much of the time it all seems so illogical. Then again, God’s ways are preterlogical, and when His ways are not my ways, when His logic is beyond my logic, it may all seem quite illogical. When all is said and done, I have more questions than answers.

In those rare moments where I truly know and believe that God loves me as I am, wants the best for me, and knows His plan for me, ignoring – or at least putting in the background – the god that I have constructed from a little knowledge and a lot of misconception, everything else in life truly feels unimportant. Not unimportant in the sense that I never act because God will take care of it. And certainly not unimportant in the sense that nothing is ever a big deal; that there is never disappointment or suffering. But unimportant because I know that if I am in communication with Him, He is in control and my choices and actions in life will be guided by the plan He has already set for me. Truly knowing God is a struggle for me. It is difficult, takes up most of my time, and it seems that I rarely achieve even a glimpse of Who God is and who I really am in Him. But maybe that’s the point. In truly wanting a relationship with God, I am forced to immerse myself in Him, living life in Him and through Him.

The Weight of Emptiness ~A Metaphor in Two Parts~

Watchful Eye
Originally uploaded by jakedavidrohde

“What do you want from me?!” Anthony screamed.  His words of desperation and anger carried toward the heavens like a tangled ball of white yarn as his warm breath mixed with the cool air.

It was a beautiful, crisp, clear fall night as he walked down the avenue, garnering (but paying no attention to) more than a few stares.  Many were taking advantage of the beautiful autumn evening, using it as a time to connect with each other – walking the boulevard and commenting on the fiery colors in the leaves, still visible in the waning rays of the sun; putting out a blanket in the park, reminiscing in the joys of the past as the red moon rises above the cityscape; or simply sitting at the corner café, drinking steaming wassail while catching up on the day’s events.  But unlike the others, Anthony was not just out for a stroll.  He was alone and the gravity of that knowledge kept his head hung low, not daring, not wanting, to make contact with the others around him.  The tension in his neck and shoulders highlighted every muscle and tendon, each of which looked ready to snap.

“I’m going crazy,” Anthony thought. “Or at least I imagine this is what crazy must feel like.  I know if I were looking at me I’d see crazy.  I mean, how can they see anything different?  I’m walking around talking, no, yelling, at nothing, shaking my fists at nothing, wondering why I’ve become nothing, why I feel nothing.  Maybe they don’t see crazy, maybe they just see nothing.  Which is worse, crazy, or nothing?  If I don’t get a handle on this soon…”

Anthony’s mind was racing.  He wanted answers and he wanted them now.  How can one feel nothing and yet be so consumed by it?  The weight of feeling nothing was becoming unbearable.  What he would not give for a normal emotion.  Anything – mad, sad, glad, ashamed, afraid, hurt – was lighter and easier to deal with than nothing.

“And the worst thing is, I should be happy,” Anthony mused as he considered the facts of his situation.

Anthony was a successful 35 year-old Professor of Educational Psychology at the top university in the state.  He was doing groundbreaking research in the field, publishing prodigiously, gaining the admiration and even envy of his peers.  He was well-liked and well-respected in the community.  He owned an opulent home where he lived with his beautiful wife and two daughters.  He had more than he needed; more than he wanted even.  He lived in relative comfort, but he felt anything but comfortable.

“I can barely remember a time where I truly felt satisfied,” Anthony thought.  “In fact, have I ever been satisfied?  I’ve been running here, running there; filling my life with this event, these people, that thing.  Sometimes it seemed that my life was so full I might burst at the seams – and yet even then there was this gnawing emptiness in the pit of my stomach.  I tell you what – if I don’t find something to satiate this hunger soon…”

As if in answer to this unfinished thought, Anthony felt something watching him; something beckoning him.   And then he saw it.  A searing orange sign that simply said OPEN.  Every road in Anthony’s life seemed closed and here was a sign of accessibility.  Though something still seemed wrong.  It was then he noticed them.  Two intense and watchful eyes – two cameras – interrogating him down to the very core, evaluating his worthiness.  “Such a silly little metaphor,” he thought.  “My Psych 101 students are smart enough to laugh this one off and move on.”  Yet he knew that something in that silly little metaphor had the power to destroy him.  Anthony ducked inside the building, terrified of those glaring inquisitive eyes.

“Five bucks,” said a voice from within the smoky blackness.

END PART ONE

The Institution We Call Education is an Exercise in Mindless Futility

Threnody

Following after something, though I know not why.
Hoping on something, though I know not what.
Chasing after meaning and finding absurdity.

WHERE ARE YOU!

I NEED YOU!

…or do I?

PLEASE HELP ME!

Hurt and pain are pervasive.

…or are you too busy?

I want so desperately the joy you speak of.
But my life is only desolation; epic ruins on fire.
All is ashes blowing the burning winds.

I want so desperately a strong foundation.
Strong pillars on which to build my life.
But everything is sand and sinkholes.

I have read of your goodness.
And even believe in your goodness.
My desire is to experience that elusive goodness.

Please show me that you care.
Please show me that you are here.
Please show me even that you hate me.

…for at least then I would know you exist.

Educational Efficacy

“Education is what survives when what has been learned has been forgotten.” B.F. Skinner

The efficacy of education lies in its ability to induce change, enhance character, and inspire enduring knowledge. Education is not merely a way to open up a student’s head and pour in knowledge, thereby making them smarter. It should not be a vehicle to box a child in to fit the system. Instead, education should be something meaningful to the student. The knowledge or skill gained should be something that is useful to their future life and goals. This does not mean that everything is going to apply directly to a student’s life and interests, or that they are going to love everything that they are asked to learn. What is required is that the end result is that they have acquired a skill that they did not have that will enhance their future life. So, algebra and names and dates and terms are useful only if some higher level critical thinking evolves. In addition, once this relevant learning has taken place, other things begin to happen. Self-esteem rises, attitudes change, and a functioning member of society begins to emerge.

In reality the purpose and focus of education ought to be on the persons involved – the teacher and the student. This is an alternative approach to education that seems backwards when one considers the great emphasis put on standards and high-stakes tests in today’s educational system. Shouldn’t the focus be on the curriculum, making sure that it is aligned to standards and that it is taught well enough to “make the grade” for the school and the district, thereby keeping them away from sanctions and in the funding? The answer is no. The danger in this educational system is that it raises up a generation of people who know a little about everything (great for Jeopardy!, by the way) and yet know nothing because they cannot critically think for themselves or participate effectively in the greater society. Worse yet is the danger of cultivating people who new all the facts for the test and discarded them the minute it was over; the sum total being that they really never had an education at all. Both of these dangers are obvious when one looks at a society that is increasingly more and more focused on “me”. The focus is on what can be gained from an activity or how much more can be added to the coffers if this or that is done. This leads to people who do not care about anything unless it involves them or their general welfare. If the Vice-President of the United States is not important to me, why should I take the time to learn what he stands for, or for that matter, even learn his name? I already live in the United States and I’m benefiting from it, who cares what happened in the past – it’s just a bunch of names and dates!

The trick is to make it more than just a name or a date. The trick is to pique the interest of the student and show them why they should care. This will then motivate the student to seek out knowledge on their own, critically think about it, and incorporate it into the way they live their life and participate in society. Now, if you haven’t already noticed, this method of getting at the why is by no means the easy-bake oven approach to education. It really is the equivalent to cooking a seven course gourmet meal for thirty and then cleaning all of the dishes by hand in the sink! The teacher taking this alternative/progressive approach to education must be fully engaged and willing to stay the course. In reality, what the teacher does with this approach is to individualize the curriculum for each student, focusing on their needs, their wants, their interests, their strengths. The focus is on the student. This validates the student, making them an important part of the process. When they feel more included and cared about, they are more apt to care about the subject you are trying to teach.

It is in many ways more time consuming and less linear than traditional methods. Time is taken to make sure that the student has really gained the skill that we deemed important for them to take with them into the future. Therefore, if it takes three rough drafts of a paper, so be it. This method is also more active than others. With this philosophy, the teacher becomes less of a driving force and more of a facilitator, guiding the student on their path to discovery. The student engages in activities in the community outside the classroom (i.e. the nursing home across the street), participates in small group discussions and classroom debates, and works on real world problems and authentic assessments connecting the curriculum to their daily life. In short, the students learn by doing.

The cumulative effect of all this time and effort and care for the student is education – true education. As the quote by B.F. Skinner implies, it is not the names of the Revolutionaries or the dates of every battle of the Revolutionary War that our students should remember (that’s what Google is for) – let them forget that! What is important is that they understand why our Founding Fathers acted in the fashion they did, how that affects their lives today, and what that should inspire them to do with their lives and their resources. The true goal of a teacher should not be to teach facts, but rather to raise up confident, socially conscious, critically thinking men and women who will someday run the society they live in.