Learning changes

I wish I knew how to distill the excitement I feel after an inspiring lecture by a top-tier speaker. I'd then find a way to encapsulate it so that I could dose myself with it every morning. When I left the Metropolitan yesterday after listening to Elliot Maisie talk about learning changes, I thought my brain was going to explode as a result of the intellectually energy generated without the possibility of release. (I prefer attending events with a colleague so that we can chat during the ride back to work, but I was solo yesterday.)

Maisie's objective was to emphasize the importance of design when thinking about not just elearning but learning in general. In order to accommodate the changing L&D landscape, educators need to be agile. They need to understand what their learner needs and find the best tool to satisfy those needs. It could be an app on an iPhone, a blog, online coaching, a help function, or a social network. Whatever the solution, it shouldn't be shaped by the tool. The tool should always be chosen after the design. The reason he's so adamant about this point is that he sees the majority of online training as being rigid and unimaginative shaped by a linear, slide by slide tool that only serve to compress the boredom of classroom training into a smaller chunk of time.

I don't think anyone was shocked by what Maisie had to say and I think probably everyone agreed. But what made his voice so powerful was the fact that even though he is considered one of the "fathers" of elearning, he's willing to keep his understanding of elearning broad and flexible. He's as agile as he wants others to be.

Another reason for his significance as a speaker is that he's tuned into the White House agenda. He told us that the next dialogue initiated by the White House after health care will be about Reskilling. Maisie, and my guess the President, believe that we'll be seeing an employment crisis. We simply won't have the right people with the right skills at the right time. Anyone who cares about learning needs to take part in the dialogue about what education needs to look like.

When all is said and done, it's not Maisie's message which sets him apart from other speakers. It's his gift as a storyteller. He recognizes how important a good story is for anyone with something to teach.

The story that won me over was one I"m sure he's told a thousand times to illustrate not only his disdain for powerpoint (which he believes should be regulated by the FDA and removed from the desktops of all senior executives), but also his willingness to "tell it like it is."

Maisie told of a conversation he had with Melinda Gates at a party full of IT hotshots. He set the stage for the story with the statement that Melinda was the creator of the much-loathed Clippie, that evil paper clip who appears when you need help in MS Office. During the meal, Melinda leaned over to Maise and asked him the loaded question, "What is the most important training software tool on the market?" Maisie said he could see the "P" forming on her lips and he paused. But not being one to curb his tongue, he blurted out "Google." He said that the "P" and some food practically fell out of her mouth as response. I guess they then had a lively and intelligent discussion. Isn't that great?

Deconstruction and Top Chef

When I was in graduate school reading Derrida on deconstruction, the last thing I would have expected is to hear the terms used by judges in a cooking competition. As is usually the case when popular culture adopts a theoretical construct, the concept has been simplified to the point of becoming almost unrecognizable. Whereas we were taught that deconstruction reveals oppositions and contradictions at the heart of every text, foodies take the term literally. The chef was expected to take apart the components of a dish and reconfigure them in a new way.

Although the Top Chef contestants were not working with the same theories as we grad students were, deconstruction functions in a similar way. It allowed the contestants to present food in a new way just as it allows graduate student to read a classic a new way and even rewrite it. Moreover, just as there were some grad students who couldn't grasp the concept of deconstruction so were there contestants who couldn't understand how or even why you'd take apart a classic.

Connections

Aside from having Baron Baptiste's 40 Days fall out at my feet this morning, I haven't encountered any texts whose narrative threads beg for unraveling. But what has struck me today is how tightly the lives of people are woven together. In spite of all the evidence to the contrary, the number of people who still affirm the myth of the rugged individualist beholden to none amazes me.

Ayn Rand is an author who enables this kind of romantic, delusional thinking. When i was a teenager, I remember embracing her novels. I saw her heroes as passionate and creative, exactly the type of person I thought I could become. The thought of becoming someone as strategic as Dagny Taggart or as creative as Howard Roark thrilled me. Now I see the characters as damaged, miserable people. As I grew older, I began to recognize the importance of collaboration. I began to believe that originality is a myth and that the collective mind is something to be frightened of. Instead, I learned respect for all those who gave to those according to their need. The idea that a small group of separatists could start a community in the mountains of Colorado and actually succeed seems ludicrous.

What I really need to do is reread The Fountainhead. I honestly don't think that I could handle Atlas Shrugged again without completely skipping through the "philosophy," especially John Galt's infamous rant (I mean speech).

House, Homicide and a little Bourne

As I type this, I'm also flipping through the channels wondering how people could prefer Dancing with the Stars over So You Think You Can Dance? A lot of bad dancers, bad cover tunes, and terrible costumes vs. stellar dancing, imaginative choreography and cool music? But I come not to bury Dancing with the Stars (as much as I wish I could), I come to praise House.

When my House-hating colleague mocks the series formulaic nature, I really can't argue. It's true that House usually acts like jerk while trying to solve a medical mystery while offending as many colleagues as possible. Typically though the formula works just fine for me. Tonight's show, although predictable, went in a different direction and I really enjoyed it.

At the end of last season, House has bottomed out and ends up committing himself. At the beginning of this season, we're shown a montage of House going through detox. Once he's sweated all the narcotics out, he wants to leave but the chief doctor won't let him. That's because the chief doctor is Andre Braugher who has the acting chops to battle it out with Hugh Laurie and a battle of wills is inevitable. To sweeten the mix, the offbeat, sexy, real Franka Potente plays Hugh Laurie's love interest.

In addition to seeing two of my favorite actors again, what I enjoyed about this week's episode was that it offered a commentary on the myth of the romantic, tormented genius who needs his pain in order to stay creative that ended up being a commentary on the series itself. I found myself asking, "Can the House formula work if House is actually happy?" I look forward to finding out this season.

Laughing in the Dark

I'm beginning to think I no longer represent a cross-section of the TV watching public. It's not because I don't enjoy reality TV. Right now, I have Project Runway, Survivor and Top Chef scheduled to record. It's not because I wouldn't daytime TV if I didn't work. I've plopped myself in front of the TV to watch Oprah and The Bold and the Beautiful on more than one occasion. I'm even willing to watch an episode of The City on my TV. Yep, I can waste my time with the best of them.

My problem is with sitcom comedies. Even shows as great as The Office and 30 Rock do make it on my "Scheduled to Record." If they do, I don't watch them. I'm trying to figure out why they don't draw me in because I fully appreciate a good laugh. But I realized that I generally prefer to laugh when the jokes are framed in a twisty and dark narrative (or as is the case with Glee rocking musical numbers). Rescue Me will bring tears to my eyes from laughter, but 30 Rock, most of the time, will just elicit an amused and appreciative smile (except for that scene with Alec Baldwin playing all the members of Tracy's family during a therapy session).

Another reason I don't follow sitcom comedies is because generally the narrative thread doesn't compel me as do those twisty dark shows or, I hate to even write the word, dramedies do. Ally McBeal sucked me in not because Fish was hilarious but ultimately I wanted to know where Ally's story was going to take her.

I guess I should be thankful that there is something on the TV spectrum that doesn't appeal to me. Otherwise, I'd have an even fuller TV plate than I can handle.

The Faces of Glee

There's no denying Glee's wit. The dialogue is playful and smart, offering adult pleasure without disturbing the kids. But I realized last night how much I enjoy the reaction shots. The characters are so delightfully quirky that they all they need to do is raise an eyebrow to crack me up.

Another reason I appreciate the faces is that the members of the Glee club are not played by attractive actors with horn-rimmed glasses, messy hair, bad clothes and no makeup. Just as the vertically challenged choreographer pointed out, they have more than their share of flaws. But there's no doubt that they are the stars.

After just a few shows, my perspective about what makes a star has shifted so much that I'm actually shocked when the hot cheerio or football player shows that they have talent. Yet I wasn't surprised at all to see that the coach, the thumbless shop teacher or the janitor could so smoothly transition into a boy bad.

I can't wait to see where Glee is going to go. I only hope it involves a musical number with Jane Lynch. She's truly divine.

Glee, Sons of Anarchy and my project

I just have to clap for Glee (or maybe with glee at Glee?). It's wonderful to be able to watch a family show with a wicked and sophisticated sense of humor. Chris and I often look at each other while watching and say, "Did she just say that?" We then look at Luc who is absolutely oblivious but enjoying the show nonetheless. I think we have Akiva Goldsman to thank for the mulitple levels. The writer of "Six Feet Under" is consciously writing a family show.

On the other side of the adult TV spectrum is Sons of Anarchy during which we ban Luc from the living room. It's the type of series that I Quentin Tarantino would appreciate. Last season they seemed to aim high trying to tell the story of Hamlet with bikers. It ended up being disappointing. I didn't stick with it long enough to figure out why. But I am pleased to discover that they've traded Shakespeare for Roger Corman. They've traded betrayal, indecision and ambition for gang rapes and porn. As much as I love reworkings of Shakespeare, believe it or not, it seems to be a wise choice. Bikers are just more fun when they're show mindlessly looting, pillagine and plundering.The show is a whole lot of fun.

At the beginning of the week I mentioned that I was blogging in an attempt to find the right project. What I think I'm going to do is continue writing fragments on appealing narrative threads for the next 33 days. On Day 40, I'll begin weaving them together into an online game that will act as a final project for an indepedent study I'm taking on Immersive Learning. At this point I'm thinking about some kind of story engine that will allow people to generate meaning from all kinds of textual threads and fragments.