It was around this time two years ago that I had begun wondering about a collaborative learning game that might involve role-playing and task completion. I suggested that the game shouldn’t preach, correct, or in any way disrespect the player’s intelligence, but rather amplify it through teaching the art of content analysis as a form of “participatory entertainment”. I was learning content analysis at the time with Open Intelligence, but lacked the tools that would accelerate the process. I was longing for something that didn’t exist and was wishing for a form of education that could provide the kind of collective intelligence I saw attainable when collaborative groups began practicing content analysis and synthesis together.
Once upon a time, the Internet was a bastion of liberty and freedom, but now nation after nation is cracking down on it.
a possible reality worth noticing, and resisting if necessary.
Sean Grainger (@graingered) tells me “the world we all share is one big story written by history.” I agree with him, our collective story is summed up by each one of our individual stories. He says, “Teachers are in the story-writing business” and that our fundamental purpose is to be what we want education to be.
I’ve had the pleasure to occasionally exchange tweets with Sean, and in many ways he’s influenced me to think of myself as a teacher. Maybe not the certified-type who commands a classroom, but the sort who plays a necessary role in the future of education. My contacts have dealt me enough insight to understand what kind of lessons the next generation will need in order to lead society through the transition ahead. I’d like to play my part.
Pain is a difficult thing to think about. Nobody really wants to. We just want to forget about it. Yet, we are fascinated by pain. It strikes a chord within us and we so often find ourselves putting on the brakes to catch a glimpse of it while passing a car accident. We wonder, “Is anybody hurt?”
Pain is linked to everything that is “wrong” in our lives. We try to avoid it, yet it always creeps in. We hate it the most when it presents itself for no reason at all. It is not fair.
Pain is an uninvited guest. It enters our bodies and pesters us. It pokes, prods, and sometimes goes so far as to push us down on the ground. Why? We scream for it to get out, but it comes back relentlessly. What does it want?