Yes, this is my gratuitous NECC 2009 reflection post.  There were too many experiences and too many conversations that took place for me not to stop and reflect on the week as I experienced it.

The most noticeable observation I can make is the comparison of experiences from last year’s NECC to this year’s.  Last year was my first, and it was quite honestly an incredibly overwhelming experience.  I felt rather detached and fatigued as I flew out of San Antonio, and I can directly attribute that to how disconnected I was to this community.  I hadn’t yet started my blog, I was only faintly invested in Twitter, and I knew a total of about five people at the conference.  How a year can change everything.

I began my blog in August and have been learning by exponents ever since.  Not long after, I sought to engage in conversation on Twitter.  Again, the learning experiences quickly heaped one atop the other.  And as my learning opportunities increased, so too did my level of connectedness.  I came to NECC this year part of a very strong network- an engaged network who readily struck up conversations that will fill my foreseeable future with countless moments of pondering.

This experience has left me with no doubt that a learning network can be one of the best things any professional can develop.  Engaging the community and building relationships leave one in a place to break the bubble of solitude and grow in entirely unexpected ways.

I also learned what an outstanding experience it is to meet people face to face who you’ve been connecting with exclusively online.

I learned that

-Judi, Anne, Beth, Brady, and Scott M. are tremendous classmates
-Angela is every bit as dynamic in person as she is online
-Jon B. continues to be on my list of people I call friends (I swear the bracelet must have gotten lost in the mail).
-Dean is a crazy good golfer, and I could probably talk to him all day about all things education.
-Karl is in the same category of gentle, entirely wonderful human beings as Paul.
-Paul is an incredible social organizer
-Mike has now seen a baseball game and was the first person I’ve ever known to have a caricature drawn of his dinner rather than himself
-Scott F. is a great guy to hang out with
-Ketchup chips are as good as Dave says they are, and Dave is as good at riding in coach as I am at not making a mess in sessions
-Ken has the voice for radio
-Paula is a person you should know
-I have so, so much to learn
-Kelly is taller than her avatar and has a charming personality to match her charming southern drawl
-Jeff is the man to talk to if you ever get the itch to teach oversees.
-Vinny has an astounding memory
-Andy was missed
-Pat was very busy and had to watch someone eat rabbit
-Jen should have been there
-Jon O. is a master at the art of digital storytelling (something I’ve known for a very long time)
-Hank is a great guy to walk the monuments with
-Tim shares my excitement for digital photography
-Chris is the kind of principal I would work for in a second
-Chad is a great guy despite his love for the Brewers
-Mark is as nice as I thought he was
-Melanie is an outstanding student and a true humanitarian (see sandal fund)
-Cathy, Joe, and Lucy are great company at the airport
-Second Life still creeps me out
-Katie takes advantage of good photo opportunities
-Teryl knows how to have fun on a panel
-I wish I could grow a beard like Steve
-Christine is as nice as any Texan
-John does not cross streets properly
-Steve learned how to properly use the SMART pointer
-Nadine has great style
-Darren thinks I work for Sony
-Sylvia is a great person to converse with
-Scott M. is a person I am proud to call my friend
-I missed my family so much it hurt
-There was no way I could make this list without unintentionally leaving people out; I’m incredibly sorry if I missed you.

All this to say, it’s the people and the connections with each that made this conference one I’m truly glad I attended.

One other observation.  I’m not sure that the future format of a conference should stay as it is.  With our increased level of communication and sense of connectedness, it may well be that the session format needs to be rethought.  Much of what was presented in sessions has been discussed and broadcast at length online.  When such content is so readily available, what is it that gives a conference unique value?  I talked with several people about this, and it’s a topic that absolutely lands on the list of things to keep thinking about, but I wonder if we shouldn’t start looking to incorporate more of an edubloggercon or bar camp construct in the future.  I think this idea requires some vetting, so I’ll leave it open for your consideration as well.

That’s it.  My week in brief.  It was truly an outstanding experience, and I’m better because of the conversations, challenges, and pushes to grow.  Thank you all for that.

Thanks to Erica Marshall for the use of the Flickr image.

I know that I should, and I think that I do, but I’m actually not entirely sure what the title of this post means.  It sounds cool when you say it, and part of it is partly the title of a new project I played 1/3 of a part in starting.

A few months ago I began working with two of nature’s finest geniuses, Andy Kohl and Scott Meech, on a podcast endeavor.  I’ve always wanted to be part of such an experience, and after three shows, I’m certainly glad we took the leap.  I can say this is yet another of a drove of dynamic learning opportunities available as emergent technology continues to become less emergent and simply more accessible.

Andy, Scott, and I are engaging in dialog about the changes and shifts of education and our current culture.  We’re also learning a whole lot along the way.  It is honestly amazing what can happen when we stop and take the time to learn from one another, and I don’t just mean the three of us, I mean all of us.  There is something so refreshing and challenging about honest, open discussions, and I hope we can encapsulate that environment in our podcast.  When people are willing to leave ego behind and admit there is still so much to learn in life, the opportunity for growth is exponential.

If any of you have ever given thought to trying such a project, I simply can’t encourage you enough to take the chance and give it a try.  It’s an incredible experience.  For those of you who never have had the inkling, that’s why we’re here.  Give The Ed Revolution a listen some time, and let us know what you think.  We want to engage our educational community in relevant, meaningful discussions, and your voice can help make the conversation all the better.  Viva la revolution.

I read a story today that all but requires me to follow up with the ideas discussed in my recent post, “Technology Guidelines.”

I’ve been simultaneously encouraged and challenged by the comments to the post, and I’m heartened to see many affirm my position on the issues.  There remains, however, one nagging thought that I can’t seem to convince of its irrationality.  It’s an issue of liability.

In the first point on the post, I make mention of the implications of hosting student content on a server that a district doesn’t control.  This would include services such as WordPress hosted, Wikispaces, VoiceThread, etc.  I would say this would also include students using their own cell phones in class for learning.  The overwhelming response to this issue was that the experiences such services afford students far outweigh any potential consequences of the environments being abused.  In fact, many people poignantly pointed out that the transparent nature of learning as well as the obvious lack of IT support in most districts necessitate the decision for districts to seek outside resources for their students.

I found myself in complete agreement until I came across this article today.  I can’t encourage you enough to take the time to read it in its entirety.

I know many will respond that we can’t let such things cause us to fear making progress and moving forward with engaging students in a digital world.  However, I can’t help but wonder if those people would advocate for the same if they were in Ting-Yi’s position.  This is the very reason why this issue is much more complicated for me at the present.

Given the litigious nature of our society, and the fact that so many of you would be the ones lawyers would come to directly should something happen to the students in your district while they were online in the very environments which you established, I wonder if we shouldn’t give pause to consider the issue a bit further.  I want to offer my students the best learning experience possible.  In fact, I argued almost to the point of absurdity with the person whom which I first engaged this discussion.  I’ve now been given reason to pause and renumerate my position.

We know, as is evidenced in the article, that far too often blame is defrayed from the student and placed on the one who set up the system.  As wrong as that is, precedence proves it to be true time and again.  The last thing I want to do is let fear of misappropriated blame stop me from seeking dynamic learning opportunities for students, but I do think I need to fully consider every angle should something like this happen in the district where I am responsible.

I’m not saying I’m shuttering the windows and locking all the doors I can find.  What I am saying is I need to consider how we all respond to such issues when they arise.  What do we say to those who ask or to the angry parent who accuses us of willingly setting up an environment in which students can be harmed?  How would you honestly respond if someone purported you were to blame for students finding serious trouble within the spaces you setup outside the district?  I find it a very critical point in time for us all to work together and create a coherent, cogent response to the question.

Thanks to Chris Owens for the Flickr image.

A few weeks ago I took my life into my own hands and faced certain ruin and potential eternal consequences.  I sent a tweet from church.

My wife had to leave service to take care of our young son, and I was left to my own devices.  Quite literally.  I decided to try an experiment and extracted my iPhone from my coat pocket.  I began innocently enough by using the Bible program I have loaded for reference, and then the forbidden fruit dangled enticingly in front of my eyes.  I thought twice, twitched slightly, opened TwitterFon, and sent out this nugget of wisdom.

Inspiring, I know.

Coincidentally, almost immediately after I sent the tweet, I remembered that I have Evernote on my iPhone.  I used the application for the rest of the service to take notes, and I am quite convinced this is something worth continuing in the future.  In fact, I’m going to be writing a guest post on our church’s blog about using technology in service in the near future as a result of the experiment.  I’m sure it’s going to touch off a great conversation with those in our congregation who are a bit, how should I say it, traditional?

I also later confessed my sin to my wife, and a fascinating conversation ensued.  Much of it was centered around recent discussions regarding how presenting to an audience who is Twittering or backchanneling changes the presentation dynamics for a speaker.  This conversation likely merits its own post at some point in the future as well.

But the most telling outcome of this experience didn’t come from my digital note taking in church or the discussion with my wife.  It came a few hours later when I got home and checked my Twitter feed.  The responses to my tweet in church were both entertaining and intriguing.  It was this tweet that really got me thinking.

I wondered what would happen if I did actually start sending out updates from my church’s service.  Would people who know me on Twitter for my educational focus want to hear me talk about my faith?  I then sent out this question.

The responses ranged from unequivocally “I would unfollow you” to “I think you should do it as I prefer people to be all of who they are on Twitter.”  It was quite a range, and it was quite interesting to ponder exactly who we’ve let ourselves become in the social networks in which we run.  Perhaps even, who do we want ourselves to become?

I think of the growth of many online social networks and what this means for the community.  I’ve noticed as Twitter increases in popularity, I have more friends and acquaintances outside of education following me.  I’ve also had our local newspaper, businesses, and past professors add their name to my list.  It begets the question, “what do we do with this?”  I have to wonder if my friends really care about my thoughts on Marzano and his recent research on interactive whiteboards.  Do they care I don’t care for the overused and abused 21st Century nomenclature?  Do they care that I persistently pester one particular Canadian?

This question isn’t restricted to only Twitter.  It applies to all social networks.  What do you do when your mom wants to be your friend on Facebook?  Or your students?  It makes me wonder if we have to start setting up multiple accounts for all our networks.  There have been suggestions that it would be better to have a separate “professional” Twitter account and a “personal” Twitter account.  Would the bifurcation of my life result in a dilution of my personality in both spaces?

Personally, I like some of the inane chatter that happens on Twitter.  I like knowing when Dean spills on his shirt, or what Jon is cooking for dinner, or when Jen is engaged in an epic battle to get Z to bed.  It’s the sum of the small things in our lives that make up the whole of who we are.  I also know, however, that it’s tough to sift through all the chatter at times.  I’ve heard that complaint from several people as of late, and it makes me wonder about the merit of having two accounts.

I’m really not sure where to go from here.  I know this process will likely work itself out in an organic manner as these things tend to do with emerging technologies, but what will that process yield for us at its conclusion?

To end, I’ll have to go back to the beginning, and ask a question.  If I started letting more of my life into Twitter, would you stop following me?

*UPDATED CONCLUSION: March 28

After posting this yesterday, I’ve come to realize I did a tremendously poor job ending this post.  My intention was to frame the question more in a global fashion, and instead, I managed to focus it entirely on myself.  I apologize for that.  Please give me the chance to take a mulligan on the closing.  Here is what I really meant to say.

To end, I have to go back to our beginning.  Well, the beginning of an end to some regards.  We’ve been enjoying many of our social networking sites in the comfort of the audience with which we grew.  For Twitter, that was somewhat of a niche audience focused in technology and social media.  Now, as people from all walks of our lives begin signing on and joining in, the question becomes, “What do we do as our worlds collide?”  Thank you, George Costanza for that classic episode.  As Matt said in the comments, he’s long wondered what he will do when his parents join Facebook.  That’s how I really meant to end this post.  How will our expectations and experiences change with social networks as they begin to aggregate people from all areas of our lives in one location?  I remember what George said.

Thanks to Vanderlin for the Flickr image.