Tinkerings

This morning I got in the car at the Starbucks on Sand Lake Road in Orlando, FL and set my GPS Navigation system to see how well it did to show me the way home.  It was about 6 AM.  By the time I got on the road, it had estimated my arrival time to be 3:15.  Not bad.

As I drove across the Florida Parkway toward Interstate 75, I noticed that the estimated time of arrival kept decreasing.  When I made my first stop some 3 hours after starting, the arrival time was down to 2:20.  I had cut nearly an hour off my expected time!

Immediately my mind made the leap to TVAAS and using the gain in time as a method of evaluating my effectiveness as a driver.  (Who wouldn’t, right?).

In education, Value Added is a statistical attempt to demonstrate the impact a teacher has on a student’s learning over the course of the year.  A number of variables are taken into account in order to compensate for them (age, sex, socio-economic status, last year’s test results, etc).  The idea is, that any improvement demonstrated by TVAAS is directly correlated to the impact of the teacher.  So, if the student does what was “expected” by the model, that scores a ZERO (as a baseline).  If the student does better than the model predicted, the teacher gets a positive number.  Likewise, if the student scores less than predicted the teacher gets a negative number.  And these numbers are part of what is used to determine if the teacher is effective or not.

No pressure, right?

So, I thought that if I arrived BEFORE my predicted time, that should be a positive number directly related to the driver.  If I arrived LATER THAN my predicted time, then that would be a negative for me.

Positive : Effective.  Negative : Ineffective.

But then it hit me.  In order to arrive early, I would have to give up a couple of fun things I planned to do as part of my trip.  I had planned on stopping at High Falls State Park and taking some pictures of the waterfalls.  I also planned on stopping in Atlanta for lunch.  Those things would bump my arrival time later than the prediction.

So I had a choice.  I could concentrate solely on the numbers and making sure I was “effective” as a driver.  This would mean limiting stops to bathroom breaks and pumping gas.  I would have to scout out locations for both that were easily accessible from the highway to limit my downtime away from the car.  Driving from point A to point B would be the only thing I had time to do!

Or… (and this is huge)… I could choose to both drive from point A to point B AND add my own value to the drive.  I needed the rest I would get from walking around at the park.  It was actually better for my own health to do so.  And, I could find a place to eat that would expand my horizons, get me out of my own little world, and make me a more complete person in the process.

Teachers are faced with this choice every day.  Because TCAP is so important for rating schools, students, and now teachers, it is the end-all of education.  We don’t have time for cultural diversity.  We don’t have time for field trips.  We don’t have time for visiting speakers.  We have these standards to cover.  We have to test the kids to see if they are ready for the test.  Point A to Point B.  That’s it.

But what if I chose the second option in my classroom?  What if I chose to be less concerned with TVAAS and more concerned about creating a well-rounded individual who would be prepared to go out into the world upon graduation?  What if I did emphasize those field trips?  What if I did attempt to expand cultural horizons?  Would I be willing to be considered professionally less effective in order to be individually more effective?

These are the thoughts that went through my mind as I wandered through the woods of the state park.  I thought about them again as I enjoyed lunch at one of my favorite places in Atlanta (the OK Cafe, in case you were wondering).  I chose Plan B.

I arrived at home at 3:55.  Some 40 minutes later than the test data should I should have.

I guess I have to be considered an ineffective driver.

But I was able to put joy back into the journey.  And that, as they say, is that.

When I made the decision to come to Orlando for Edmodocon and FETC, I knew I would be traveling to the west coast to try to get some pictures of an ocean sunset.  I had tried a few times before, but I had the wrong camera equipment.  Or the clouds were bad.  Or maybe I just didn’t know what I was doing.

Regardless, I was committed to going.  I knew what time I needed to leave the hotel in Orlando to get there with plenty of time to get my camera set up where I wanted it.  I knew where I wanted to be.  I even knew something about the angle from which I wanted to take these pictures.

And so I did.  I left on time.  Early even.  I had time to snap a few other pictures (none of which I liked, all of which went into my Trash file).  I got to where I wanted to go, walked down the beach, found the jetty I wanted in my shot, scouted around to find the angle I wanted, and then set up to wait.  I was committed to the shot.

As the sun started to get into range, I knew I had the right equipment.  The cloud cover was cooperating.   Even the people standing out on the jetty fishing seemed to stand still for my camera.  I knew I had it.

And then it happened.

A bird off to the right of me dive bombed the water for fish.  I wanted that shot.  Then dolphins started rolling just out of camera range.  And I wanted that shot.  And then a sailboat….

You get the idea.

A friend of mine is fond of saying to me (repeatedly I might add), that life is all about choices.  And I had to quickly make some.  Taking these really cool pictures would have required changing lenses.  Changing ISO speeds.  Changing aperture settings.  Getting rid of the tripod.  And doing it all uber fast.

I might get the shots.  I might not.  One thing was certain: I would not be getting a sunset shot.  It was a painful ordeal.  For about 1/2 a second I struggled.  Then I saw this blog post forming in my head.  I had committed to a sunset shot.  I stayed the course and got what I came to get.  (You can see my photos here)

Life for me is a series of these choices on a daily (sometimes hourly) basis.  It is my nature to try to help people.  To try to help everyone.  Even at the expense of my own priorities.  I rationalize I can always do my work later, but this needs to be done right now.  As a result, it seems to friends that I am always working.  Always online.  And I guess I am.

I am constantly trying to catch up.

In life, like in photography, I really need to learn to commit.  Stop chasing shiny objects.  Stop putting my priorities on a shelf for another day.  Learn to say a simple “no” from time to time.  As Yoda says, “There is no try.  There is only do or do not.”

And once you’ve made the choice to commit…commit.

As I mentioned in my last post, I took some time to walk up a mountain over the long weekend.  It was cold and bright and brisk and challenging and… fantastic.

On the walk up, I was challenged with being short of breath from the climb (did I mention the 20 pounds of backpack and camera equipment I was lugging around on my back?).  It is interesting that going uphill is difficult on your quads, but going downhill is just as difficult on your knees.  Marathon runners tell me they have to train just as hard learning to run downhill safely as they do trying to breathe on the way up.  I get it.

The trip up helped me get in touch with myself a little better.  My mind was beginning to be uncluttered for the first time in months.  I saw a family of four at the top of Benton Falls for about 30 seconds.  I passed two mountain bikers on my way down as they were ascending the toughest parts of the trail.   Other than that, it was just me and the mountain for five hours.

I decided to take one of the Slick Rock Loops as a diversion as I was returning from the Falls.  It added about a mile and a half to the journey.  While Clemmer Trail is fairly wide and open, the beginning part of the Loop was just a single foot path in the middle of undergrowth.  I listened carefully for sounds of bears or dueling banjos.  Thankfully, I heard neither.

And then, unexpectedly, the trail burst out into an open field somewhere on the side of this mountain.  It was brief.  But it jarred my mind into a new thought process.

I began to retrace my literary journey through Henri Nouwen and found my mind wrestling with The Jesus Prayer.  In monastic life, The Jesus Prayer is used to concentrate one’s mind on the singularity of one’s faith.  The form I use is, “Lord Jesus, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.”

In the writings of Nouwen, he talks about this prayer becoming the very “breath” of life to those who pray it.  It takes a shortened path with part of the prayer used to breathe in, and another part for breathing out.

(While breathing in) Lord Jesus

While breathing out) have mercy

This prayer is meant to occupy the mind so that all other thoughts are crowded out.

And so, for the first time in a long time, I allowed my mind to rest totally on God for about 30 minutes as I walked through trails, logging roads, and open fields on the side of a mountain in the brisk, bright, bold winter’s day.

I didn’t think about work.  I didn’t think about my Mac.  I didn’t think about taking pictures.  I didn’t think.

I breathed.  In.  Out.  In.  Out.  Lord Jesus.  Have mercy.

Somewhere along the path I noticed that both my backpack and my soul seemed a little lighter.  I stopped to pull a bottle of water out of my pack, and I took a look around.  I mean really looked around.

Just me and the mountain.

And my heart smiled.

Yesterday I did something I wouldn’t have dreamed of doing just a few short years ago.  I blame two people, of course.  First, I blame Lance with the Discovery Educator Network because he put the DEN SI in one of the climbingest places known to man two years ago.  Second, I blame Tom with…well, Tom… for inviting me up to Pigeon Forge to “hike” a trail.

And what did I do you ask?  I parked my car at the bottom of Chilhowee and hiked the 4.3 miles up the slope to Benton Falls just to take a few pictures.  Of course, I took a small extra loop on the way up and another larger one on the way down.  I walked a little over 10 miles.  It took me 5 hours (to the minute).  And it was uphill both ways.  Or at least it felt like it.

All joking aside, it was a beautiful, gorgeous day.  The first thirty minutes of the hike was a pretty good uphill trek.  All of it.  I was afraid to stop for fear of talking myself into going back to the car.  I kept going by paying attention to three things.

First, I began to listen…really listen…to the crunching of my hiking shoes as they plodded through fallen leaves and small gravel.  Each surface had its own unique sound.  And they changed slightly when the trail finally leveled off.

Second, I started to notice the cacophonous sound of my own labored breathing.  There were parts of the trail where these two sounds were all there was to hear.  Occasionally a squirrel would rustle through some leaves or a bird would chirp, but for the most part I was the only animal dumb enough to be moving around in this cold.

Third, I began to notice the crashing sounds of waterfalls.  Suddenly, they were everywhere.  They faded slightly as the trail bent in toward the mountain, but came back even greater as the trail edged its way over the valleys.

And somewhere along the trail, in the midst of these sounds, I noticed my mind was less cluttered.  Less busy.  Less… techie.  The competition I thought I would feel with this trail became a partnership of sorts.  We worked together on this goal of mine.  Step for step.  Breath for breath.

And I realized that far too much of my life is a competition.  There are not near enough partnerships.  And somehow, I need to find a way to flip the two.

The mountain showed me that.

Recently I had the privilege of visiting with my friend, Rob, and his family while I was Memphis for the Mid-South Technology Conference.  It had been nearly 20 years since we had worshiped together at the Christian Serviceman’s Center at RAF Mildenhall, England.  It didn’t matter where we were, I always knew Rob was the smartest man in the room.  And that was no small feat at Mildenhall.

During the course of the evening our discussions turned to education and technology and Internet and…filtering.  Rob’s wife is an educator.  Rob is an IT guy running his own company.  It was a natural progression.

Rob is also a church historian and theologian.  So it was no surprise in the conversation that he divided the Internet filtering groups into two camps: John Calvin and John Knox.

Calvin believed strongly that pretty much everything was sinful except those things expressly stated in Scripture as being “acceptable.”  Knox, on the other hand, believed that pretty much everything was acceptable except for those things expressly stated in Scripture as being “forbidden.”

Theologically, I was raised Calvinist to a degree.  Don’t do this.  Don’t do that. Don’t go here.  Don’t say that.  In my later years I have found myself more and more in the camp of Knox.

Educationally, I am very much in the Knox camp with regard to technology.  I don’t like the fact that we have to filter sites like YouTube and Flickr and others.  And yet I understand its necessity at times.

Recently, I’ve had some pretty spirited discussions with some of our IT people.  They like to rag on me, and I like to rag on them.  We have a lot of fun while debating our positions.  I absolutely love those conversations!  (Others see me as always wanting to argue a point.  Their loss, huh.)

I would venture a guess to say that most IT Departments in school systems across the country are Calvinistic.  They say, “We will block everything unless you can demonstrate the site is both necessary and safe.”  They have to be this way, I suppose.  They have thousands of computers being run by teachers and children in dozens of locations across hundreds of miles.  It is a huge investment, and they have to protect it.  I know how I feel when I walk into a room and find another student has taken it upon himself to update a file, but left the box checked that installs some other unwanted program that ties up memory, slows down performance, and keeps popping up asking if you want to buy something.  I can only imagine how they feel when malware hits dozens or hundreds of computers across the system.

Most educators would probably fall into the Knox camp.  We want access to information.  The Internet is the teaching tool of our generation (not Interactive White Boards or iPads).  How we get there doesn’t matter.  We just want it open.  Even if it is only open for us (or more open for us) and not for our students.

Like theology, technology is probably best handled somewhere in the middle.  To get there requires a dialogue between Calvinists and Knoxists.  A give and take.  A mutual understanding of each others’ goals, aspirations, and needs.

I am indeed fortunate that I can have that discussion with the IT Department of my district.

In an attempt to be both pro-active and frugal, I am looking for ways to combine some of the 5 areas I mentioned in my last post as resolutions for 2012.  Like most people, I’ve started the year off with a bang regarding resolutions.  This is day two and I’m still going strong!

Yesterday, I joined 36 other people at Harrison Bay State Park for their New Year’s guided tour as part of the states’ First Hike series.  Every state park in Tennessee is hosting a guided tour either January 1st or 2nd to help people get out on the trails, learn about the area, and help celebrate the 75th anniversary of state parks in Tennessee (Harrison Bay was the first official state park in Tennesse).  It was a 4 1/2 mile hike that took just under 3 hours.

Today, I’m joining another group just north of Benton, TN, at the Hiwasee/Ocoee State Park for a guided hike to Gee Creek Falls.  I’m loaded for bear with gear to take pictures while there!

So, in one activity, I took my own food, got off the couch, lived life, learned something, and took some pictures.  As Charlie Sheen would say… Winning!

I’ve also stepped out of my comfort zone and joined some groups at Meetup.  I have joined a hiking group, but haven’t been able to coordinate my schedule with their hikes yet.  I’ve also joined a photography group located in the Cleveland/Chattanooga area and another in Knoxville.  I’m already handling my camera better, understanding what I’m doing (or what I’m doing wrong in most cases), and improving.

As part of my effort to simplify things and concentrate more on The Year of Tim (thanks for the title, Maryann!), I have resigned from the Discovery Educator Network Leadership Council.  That doesn’t mean I wont participate in DEN activities, but it frees up more time to explore things outside of technology and moves me from teacher to learner.

Its a New Year.  Get out there.  Make it the Year of YOU.

It is now officially the first day of 2012.  I have pondered whether or not to post my “resolutions” for this year.  I finally decided that posting them would somehow make me more accountable to them.  So, here they are in no particular order of importance:

1. Live life.  I am a workaholic.  And a loner.  And a geek.  A typical night for me is to surf the web, update Facebook, work on reports or training for my job, and watch either NCIS, Law and Order, Law and Order Criminal Intent, or The Big Bang Theory re-runs.  I am determined to get out more.  Walk.  Jog.  Hike.  Travel.  There has to be more to life than the four walls of my living room and wifi.

2. Photograph more.  I know, I know, many of you are thinking…more?  But my 365 Photos project (posting one picture every day for a year) turned into more like a 165 Photo Project this year.  And even at that, as I look back over the pictures I took this year, I can see a vivid difference between the early days and the latter days.  You can see those differences here.

3. Cook more.  The key to keeping this weight off includes exercise (see #1 above) and portion control on food.  I eat out all the time.  That has to change this year.  And, of course, the more I cook at home the more opportunities I have for more photography.

4. Learn more.  There are so many things that interest me: photography, history, theology, human relationships, and many, many more.  I want to set aside more time to read.  To explore.  To learn.  Anything.  Everything.

5. Set boundaries.  This has been an issue for me since very early.  I say yes far too often and no not nearly enough.  My needs and desires are often pushed to the background in order to help someone else.  Everybody else.  Sometimes there isn’t a “me” anymore.  And I desperately need a “me” to survive.  It is one of the reasons (and there are many) that I am separating my personal Facebook account from a new professional account.

That’s it.  I think they are doable.  From time to time I’ll let you know how I’m doing here on this blog.

What about you?  What have you resolved for 2012?