"What's left to teach them?"

There's a saying, "Small men talk about people; mediocre men talk about things; great men talk about ideas."  This is quite true of my friend and colleague Dan--when we talk we talk about ideas, which is what I've always appreciated most about Dan:  his habit of thinking deeply and critically about ideas.

Now I'm not referencing the quote because I am claiming Great Man Status; somehow I don't believe truly great men enjoy chips and jalapeno cheese dip like I do, and their clothes probably always match, and I know for certain that great men have no time for the other things I enjoy like watching Ax Men on television.  I use the quote because it illustrates the kinds of discussions Dan and I often find ourselves having.

So the other day, we're having a discussion about educating kids, and how to best invigorate student learning, and ways technology influences education.  He posed the question shared by many cutting edge educational theorists:  with the ubiquitous nature of the internet and the instant availability of information via iPod, cell phone, laptops, etc. he posed the question, "What's left to teach them?" 

In our discussion what we concluded is this:  that at the heart of quality learning and teaching is inquiry, that age-old human urge to find the answers to challenging questions, to pursue the acquisition of knowledge, and the innate fire within that we call curiosity.  A teacher does NOT tap into these vital forces when he asks students to memorize facts that they can acquire instantly through a Google search.  A teacher does NOT ignite curiosity with study guides and worksheet packets.

But a teacher DOES spark inquiry when he poses a challenging question that exists in the real world.  Imagine the mathematics and science a student could learn if asked to solve a problem like, "How would you determine the cost effectiveness of hybrid vs. gas engines?"  To do this successfully, individuals or teams of students--using their trusty laptops, of course--would determine the qualities of the electrochemical cells that power today's hybrid vehicles, compare their efficiency to gasoline engines, filter this information through an economic comparison of the two systems, and finally develop their theory into a presentation of some sort--perhaps a website, Keynote presentation, or other method of publication.

This is the kind of teaching Dan has decided to do with the students he works with.  (I would argue that his methods have always challenged students.)   He, and other teachers in our 1:1 environment, now have a renewed commitment to change and adapt and refine how they challenge students when it appears there's "nothing left to teach them."  What we can teach them--what we have always tried to teach them--is not what to learn, but how to learn.  This is the idea to which we should be committed.