[photo by Michael Sarver]

… they were a kind of solution.

From a recent post by the inimitable CogDog, spurred by current CCK08 discussions on complexity and chaos:

“In addition, I am growing more snarky with tacit generalizations (all but using the dead tired “natives/immigrants”) that “younger = desires more complex / older = desires linear”. I am not wanting studies, but some appreciation that the range of teachers and learners is just as complex as this week is supposed to address. I don’t know what to do with this reflex, but hope others can pause for reaching for that assumption, or at least question it.”

The thing about generalizations– and I’m not picking at Alan’s post, merely using it as a jumping off point– is that all educators need and use them all the time. The minute we prepare a single assignment, assessment, outcome or piece of curriculum for a future student or more than one student, we are necessarily relying on predictions of needs and behavior that come from generalizations. I would even go so far as saying that knowing how to make the most accurate and productive generalizations possible is a critical skill for any educator.

Given a heterogeneous student population, most such necessary generalizations are– by definition– inaccurate. The question we have to constantly ask ourselves include: why am I prone to consider or accept a particular general statement? Why is that statement being made, particularly by others? Does the context justify a generalization? Is a particular prediction accurate enough to be useful? Are our plans flexible enough to accommodate the “outliers” who won’t be able to adapt to the inaccuracy? I suppose this is really the same kind of request that Alan makes in the last line quoted above… it’s just that I’m as wary of the generalization that generalizations are bad as I am many of the generalizations that are suspect! How’s that for twisted?

Like other generalizations, the idea of digital natives and digital immigrants doesn’t remain a constant topic of discussion out of mass intellectual laziness or delusion, but because it has some degree of accuracy in describing an experience that a significant number of people share. I don’t want to go too far into defending this particular generalization as such (my argument, like that of my unwitting partner Danah Boyd– and the contributors to the very good book Being Digital, among others who can’t really be classified as partners of Prensky– is that it isn’t going away, it’s narrowly useful as something other than an age-based schema, it can be part of a nuanced discussion, and it can/should be rehabilitated) but to note that its continued resilience in the face of criticism and viable alternatives is in itself an indication of an area that needs more attention.

A generalization is only as useful as its predictive power. A gross calculation would be that if the shoe fits more than 50% of the users it’s a net gain. But educators, of course, have much higher standards than that. But what is that standard? I have two classes at the moment where the digital native/immigrant generalization fits almost (with one exception) perfectly. Is something that predicts important behaviors of 34 out of 35 students from 16-60+ valuable? Given our inability– even today with all the power of social network tools at our disposal– to completely individualize most educational experiences, we must be vigilant in questioning generalities and stingy– but not completely averse to– making use of them.

And context weighs heavily in whether I let my feathers get ruffled when a generalization is made. Who’s making it? Do I have good reason to believe that it’s a shorthand referring to a more complex and considered idea that isn’t being made for reasons of time or space? Is the context of the conversation such that it might seem hyperfocused, the kind of conversation that can lead me to mistake the intensity of that focus for an illusory level of support? I’m particularly sensitive to this because my philosophy is (though I am hardly good at it) to give the benefit of the doubt to most speakers in a way that I hope is accorded to me. Nothing is more frustrating than being conversationally derailed because someone assumes that because I am talking about, say, the usefulness of student blogging that I must not be aware of powerful uses of discussion boards, chat rooms and wikis. Or because I am focused at the moment on authentic, performance-based assessments means I don’t know about– or worse don’t believe in– the usefulness of traditional quizzes and tests.

So, I’m not arguing with Alan (I know better! I might argue with him about something like the productive importance of philosophy and “theory” but you’d be able to hear his head hitting his keyboard out of sleepiness and/or frustration) as much as voicing my own hope that while questioning generalizations we also give the ability– even the pragmatic necessity– of making generalizations its due, and that we consider how we can pay attention to and improve that process in the cases where discarding it isn’t feasible.

[photo by Thomas Levinson]

I couldn’t find the thread George mentions, but questions about our grading system and the invocation of William Farish are interesting to consider. The history of grading as we know it, as laid in the article that George links to, can use some expansion. In that article, we learn that Farish instituted his grading system in 1792 or later. But there is an interesting parallel (?) development outlined in a 1993 Educational Forum article:

The history of grading in American colleges was eloquently detailed by Mary Lovett Smallwood (1935). She related that marking, or grading, to differentiate students was first used at Yale. The scale was made up of descriptive adjectives and was included as a footnote to Stiles’s 1785 diary.

President Stiles wrote that 58 students were present at an examination, and they were graded as follows: “Twenty Optimi, sixteen second Optimi, 12 Inferiores (Boni), ten Pejores” (Stiles, 1901, vol. 3). In all probability, these may have been the very first collegiate “grades” given in the United States.

Yale took the initiative in formulating a scale. Smallwood quoted the following from the Book of Averages — Yale College: “Record of Examinations,” 1813 — 1839: Rules respecting this Book and its records, 1. This book shall be kept with the Senior Tutor of the College, whose duty it shall (be) to see that the following rules are carried into effect. 2. The average result of the examination of every student in each class shall be recorded in this book by the Senior Tutor of the class.

Also this very same book from Yale gives a reference to marking on a scale of 4. In all probability, this was the origin of the 4.0 system used by so many colleges and universities today. There was, however, still no connection to letter grades. .or example, an A was not a 4.0, for at this point in time, there was no A.

The gap of 28 years between President Stiles’s remarks of 1785 and Yale’s in 1813 is also interesting. It is hard to imagine there were not any records or statements concerning grading written during this time, but apparently none have been found.

The article goes on to outline dates of implementation of various numeric systems at Harvard, Mount Holyoke, etc.

Regardless, the point being made by George and the CCK08 participants is well-taken– grading systems of the kind we are familiar with are relatively new to education. If you could go back in time, you would look in vain for grading scales in the Platonic academies, letter grades in the Lyceum, or calculators (literally) feverishly working out GPAs in the monasteries.

But before we get all medieval (figuratively and literally) on the system, let’s remember that the previous system wasn’t without its flaws. Then, as now, there were charges of favoritism and corruption, cults of personality and pressures to push learners through for reasons other than merit. Frankly, I find the quote George highlights:

"When a student graduated, the most impressive thing she or he could share with a prospective employer was not a Grade Point Average (GPA) or even the name of the institution attended: it was the name of the teacher. Students of the great teachers of history often became famous themselves because of the thoroughness with which their mentors had inculcated knowledge, understanding, skill, and talent in them."

terrifying. Because the truth is that while some students in the past became famous themselves because of the names and thoroughness of the teachers, others became famous because of the names of their teachers end stop. Great names are not necessarily great teachers; studying with a great name doesn’t mean one has learned anything; great names– knowing that the system that their students tend to thrive in are not meritocracies– are under the same kinds of pressure with or without grades to assign.

I’m the last person to defend contemporary grading systems. I much prefer performance- and apprentice- based systems of evaluation and promotion. But in our struggle to fight the man we shouldn’t lose sight of the reality that when it comes to the conferring of value and the measure of learning that grading is meant to stand for, there are many ways to go wrong and a wealth of subjectivity that ultimately will work to a significant degree to undermine itself by virtue of being accepted enough to become a "system" in the first place.

I’ve been following the 2008 Connectivism and Connected Knowledge course (see course blog, daily newsletter, wiki, aggregation page, and Moodle course page with forum) from an intellectual distance enforced by having too many other things going on at the start of a very busy local semester. As with other ventures along these lines (though none that I’ve seen have operated at this scale and, so far, this intensely) the flood of discussion and resources was immediately overwhelming… but the discussion hasn’t spent as much time as I feared going over the same old ground.

At the same time, it’s clear that despite the volume there is considerable disagreement, misunderstanding, and misapprehension about what these two theories do and do not mean. Alan’s recent post talking about the role of memory is a good case in point. My understanding of Connectivism doesn’t suggest that memory isn’t or shouldn’t be an important part of learning, but that it has a potentially different, additional role when what we remember is also information potentially accessible to other "network nodes" in a connected environment– each of which have their own memory as well– and that the primacy of some kinds of memorization in some kinds of operating situations is open to question, memorization sometimes being an artificial constraint that is just accepted as a prior practice. That’s just my take; these kinds of questions and ruminations being considered by a large group of interested, but not all Confirmed Connectivismists will probably be the single greatest outcome of this Massively Open Online Course.

Inevitably, too, there is the question of the scope of these theories. As I see it, Stephen is positing a wider epistemological theory that is intended to supplant, rehabilitate, and colonize more than George’s theory, which to my mind builds on– but is less exclusive of– other and previous theory. Stephen is clearly more politically radical (in terms of being a break from existing theory). The difference is non-trivial, with ramifications for addressing issues like the role of memory that Alan brings up. I’ve always seen Connectivism as adding to a variety of other theories and their resulting practices that are not eclipsed but remain useful; any one of them alone leading to at least insufficiency, if not outright educational travesty.