a long year, and looking forward

I was struck when I looked at the calendar and realized that we had just finished our Crossroads gathering in Montgomery a year ago. It feels so much further removed from right now than only a single orbit; and yet it feels so present, even prescient. There was purpose to that meeting in ways I felt in the moment, but I didn’t recognize all that could transpire and how the Montgomery meeting was giving me a new lens to understand so much of this year.

I don’t know what’s next, either what we’ll be faced with or what direction new steps will take. I see so many paths for myself and trajectories that you are all on. Once in a while, I see a paper or a post from someone and I’m heartened to think back to a conversation at a table, over a shared meal, on a walk back from the church; and I think to myself about how now I know where you were going with that nugget. It gives me faith in the work.

And I’m excited to see what’s yet to come. That gathering in Alabama a year ago gave me renewed purpose, and now more than ever I see how precious and important that is.

Be well; take care; keep going.

call to the mountains

Those of you who know me and John and our various endeavors probably associate a few images with our pairing. There’s beer, of course. There are tales of various schemes being conceptualized on the back of a bar napkin and in the dark confines of a pub. These are filed in the apocryphal origin stories of Science Education at the Crossroads. Like so many tales, while these don’t tell the entire story, they possess an air of truth that resonates.

But this isn’t the entirety of the story. Crossroads was born out of frustration and gumption, but also a sense of need. John and I have long reiterated to many of you that we host the conference for ourselves, and it’s just very fortunate that others join in and make it what we want it to be. The need for this gathering stems from a sense that we can learn from one another in deep ways that we don’t experience in other settings, but also that we have a shared sense of respite in a Crossroads gathering.

This isn’t unlike a backpacking trip into the mountains. Again, those of you who know us might have heard tell of a backcountry adventure or two. Most recently, this entailed multiple days in the Wind River Range, a high mountain pass, and a total solar eclipse. At risk of sounding hyperbolic, this was one of the most meaningful experiences of my life. I’ll be happy to tell you about it sometime.

But of late, I’ve been cowering in the basement, literally and figuratively. I’ve put away social media and have instead just taken to a fetal position. I’ve admitted to John that my head is some cloud of cobwebs, and it’s hard to find clarity or even glimpses of sunlight in this subterranean retreat. This is a move towards self-preservation, but I know it can’t continue. After a deep breath, I need to jump back in: “in” the mix of being a little more sociable generally, but most especially “in” towards a more deliberate action to effect change. The question is, where do I find a way to clear my head for this?

The astute reader who knows me well enough can see where this is going. This is where John and I feel the call of Crossroads and the mountains, simultaneously. It’s in those mountain retreats we’ve found a sense of clarity, and it’s in Crossroads where others have helped us to sharpen tools and mission. So, of course, it makes sense to combine these. Consider this your official notice:

Science Education at the Crossroads 2018
Alta Lodge; Alta, UT, 11-13 October 2018

Proposal deadline: May 12, 2018

Details and dates available on our Call for Proposals page.

The Alta Lodge holds a special connection and nostalgia for us. It was the site of one of our earlier meetings, one that seems to hold a special memory with many of us, perhaps because we were able to document it with photos. We flash back to when Brian had longer hair; Scott’s was the same length; mine wasn’t yet gray. There we were with the mountain landscape backlighting us, but our inside gazes were focused upon one another. Discussions were intense and animated. These are all of the characteristics of any Crossroads that I’ve come to expect but don’t fully know how to describe. I just know that it’s possible, and it motivates me in all my other work to push for that higher level of engagement—because I know it’s possible—and it gives John and me the sense that this meeting space is what we need to provide. Sure, it’s for you; but it’s also and especially for us.

It’s time to climb again into the mountains, both to retreat and to renew our engaged work. Please consider this our official invitation and encouragement. Spread the word to those who are “polite dinner guests,” as we like to call them, those who can help set the table and listen thoughtfully, who have space and openness to put away slide presentations in exchange for an open notebook. (Take a look at our guide to see if it’s a good fit—it certainly isn’t for everyone.) We anticipate good conversation, good food, a very definite possibility of a moose greeting you immediately outside your window in the morning, and genuine interactions carrying you through the weekend and beyond.

Incubator Session, Crossroads 2008, Alta, UT

inspirations, ambitions, and new calls

One of the most impressive components of working on Science Education at the Crossroads is finding out what happens after any given meeting, even years later. Last spring, I coaxed Angela Johnson to visit my campus and present her work and wisdom on retaining students in scientific fields, something that she’d been stirring around at Crossroads back in the fall. Those discussions continue to resonate and result in real action within my department. In other venues and meetings, long discussions with Andy Gilbert have impacted what I do with preservice and inservice teachers, and now Andy’s idea of creating “wonder journals” is something that I advocate to my own students, and in turn it gets passed on to my students’ students like some bonus inheritance from a long lost uncle we’ve never met but have heard apocryphal tales about. Meeting Sara Heredia in Cleveland made it possible for me to beg an invitation into teacher workshops at the Exploratorium in San Francisco back in March, seeing how ongoing professional learning in dynamic contexts can take shape. And, I got to spend a day at a world renowned science museum as a bonus.

Beyond my own direct experiences, there’s much, much more. Steve Fletcher puts into practice his Left Brain / Right Brain Retreat— I’ve seen the photos of the group working and making dinner together. Brian Williams returned from Costa Rica on a trip with students one day and was putting pieces together for his “Sources” conference the next. Folks put out publications that I can trace back to discussions around a conference table. And, John and Sherry Southerland now sit at the helm of a little journal that specializes in science education research.

There’s so much more. I recognize that I’m leaving out lots of other pieces of projects that others are working on. The point is that I’ve come to realize that the extraordinary is really quite normal for the people with whom I work, and especially for the kind of people who are inclined to show up at Crossroads.

And that’s a nice segue, perhaps. “What about Crossroads, along with the extraordinary work I witness there?” you may be asking. Although this fall is a break for us, we’ve perennially been in the habit of preparing a gathering about this time of year after a spring and summer of soliciting proposals and reviewing papers. In fact, every fall when I see the leaves start to change on the face of a faulting slope above my home and my university, I think back to that Crossroads in Ogden. And as I’m writing out my task lists and other prompts, I’m wondering where the “revise Crossroads” or “finalize catering menu” items are. Fortunately, we’ve found something that takes its place.

Announcement(s)

We have our own new endeavor and a new potential mode for hosting Science Education at the Crossroads. If you take a look at our Call right now, you’ll see that John and I are positioning ourselves as the conference organizers for a spring meeting that is hosted by David Stroupe and Hosun Kang. There’s a longer story, as there always is, but David and Hosun and others were looking for ways to gather together a small conference of people focused on science teacher preparation, and John and I happen to have a model and structure for a small conference format. We blended those together to create a new possibility: John and I can organize and facilitate a conference that is conceptualized and hosted by others.

So, this news blurb has a couple of cogent points and possibilities to it:

First, you should take a look at the current call for proposals, especially if you’d like to confer with thoughtful others around the topic of science teacher preparation programs, reforms, and other associated ambitions. Note that this spring timing and placement is exactly in between NARST and AERA in San Antonio, so it’s likely that you can get two (or three!) conferences in on a single flight. We’re confident that one of those conferences will be especially useful.
Second, John and I think that there may be a lot of room to build on this model. As we expand our own ideas of what Crossroads is for, what makes it work, and how to continue to move forward even after 10 years, we can imagine that there may be others who may want to do the same things that David and Hosun are doing. John and I have figured out the logistics and the philosophy of the conference, and you may be able to put that to your advantage at some point in the future. And, there are many other possible variations on this theme. Let us know if this intrigues you, and we’ll let you know how this first variation on the theme goes in San Antonio.

We’re looking forward to what’s to come, both this spring and beyond; and we hope that you’ll all continue to be a part of it as well as invite others to the table.

making space

“Clear a space” is a song by Lake Street Dive. Like many of their performances, this tune gets stuck in my head and then in my bones, staying with me in interesting, all encompassing ways. The song features pickings of an upright bass, light percussion, a trumpet accenting it all, and then the rich vocals that begin with, “Let me clear a space for you to sit beside me.” It’s probably no coincidence that this stuck-in-my-head line coincides with our emphasis on “space” at this year’s meeting. That voice and the bass line don’t hurt, but especially with lines like, “I could tell you things that don’t come easy,” it’s only a little bit of a stretch to suggest that this is relevant.

As we cleared, shaped, and otherwise made space around the tables during the meeting, we also extended our gaze on spaces as we set out into the spaces of Cleveland. At the art museum, I admired the lighting, the respite from the rain, the tall and wide halls with unobtrusive furnishings, and ways to approach art up close, the proximity tempting me to put fingers into the topography of the impressionists’ oil. These spatial elements were all essential, but the critical — and most enjoyable — part was when Bhaskar, Rachel, and myself were staring up into the red toned oil delineating four dimensions of the settlement of the West in a piece called “Soft Borders,” by Mark Tansey.

Why is the painting all in red? Was it to emphasize the red of sedimentary rock, or the blood on our hands, or the sepia tone of old photos? Why oil? Why not turn it ninety degrees? or upside down? What did he mean to say by having Native Americans positioned just so, overlooked by incoming land surveyors drilling down from the upper frame? And what did it mean that the toxic waste clean-up was upside down? Are these visitors looking upon one another, or are they oblivious as they are separated by a chasm? And on and on.

We learned that the Cleveland Museum of Art not only provides place for the artists’ works, but a way to put the three of us side by side by side, moving forward and backward in the presence of creations and with one another. The museum afforded the space, yet it was the art and my friends that really created and shaped it. As we considered wonders of visual composition, I wondered what spaces others found in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, the science museum, the waterfront, or even at the Arcade that surrounded our meeting space.

When we met with Chef Sawyer, we learned about his own creation of spaces. Becoming a chef and proprietor, he didn’t just learn to make and sell food; he crafted environs for patrons to eat pig’s head and pot de creme, and he shaped a business that honors employees’ contributions and personal development. As we returned to the Greenhouse Tavern for one last meal that Saturday night, some of us got to sit at a community table in the heat of the kitchen. We took in the space, the welcome of our server, the clatter of pots and pans and the searing and soaring of flames off to the side.

It’s our hope that you found space at Crossroads and in the field trips in Cleveland. (Feel free to tell us about these in the comments, below.) More than this, we hope that you have some of this space to take with you to add to and shape your own spaces. As we are looking into the more distant future for our next Crossroads (we’ve started announcing that we’re taking next year off) we’ll look forward to hearing how things are going, what you’re doing, and just generally imagining all the possibilities. You might want to report on these here, and we’d welcome contributions that you might send to us. Or, you could post a quick piece of news in our Facebook group; or tag us (whatever that really means/does) with #sciedxroads; or just drop us a line.

Until next time. We’re looking forward to seeing you again, hearing more about what you’re up to — “let me clear a space for you to sit beside me” — and raising a glass.

does it matter?

I know that loose physics analogies drive physicists to irritation, but I need to invoke one here: matter and antimatter. Those who have familiarity with CERN know something of the underlying science, including the understanding that these oppositional particles originate as pairs. One begets the other.

Similarly, there would not be any Science Education at the Crossroads were it not for the simultaneous presence of its exact opposite*. And yet, like matter/antimatter pairs, the two can only exist in separate spaces; otherwise they annihilate one another. This is why they are scheduled six months apart and why people shudder at one when “the conference that shall not be named” is invoked at the other. Yet, as profound and important differences exist, stories of contrast and origin are often apocryphal.** When we tell these stories over pints at a pub, important contrasts and truths can be lost if viewed through the haze of unfiltered ales. Here I seek to re-clarify.

In spite of a rich history, stacks of journals and proceedings, and longstanding traditions, much of what occurs at NARST and the many gatherings like it does not matter. In fact, the longstanding traditions of the organization disable it. There are few authentic debates about substantive issues. When contradictory views are raised they typically emanate from old-timers eager to dismiss innovation. Formal structures suppress deliberation. And, any movements in the direction of real action are absent. In defense of any mega-scholar-organization, intellectual indifference is its lifeblood. And, either because of or in spite of this fact, it continues to attract ever-increasing numbers each year.

Miraculously, in the midst of indifference, lively and substantive debates thrive in the interstices where they can avoid collision with their opposites. Celebration of academic discourse is consigned to the unscheduled and unsupervised spaces — third spaces, white spaces, open spaces — choose your space. That’s where professional learning really transpires: not during keynote talks or symposia or anything scheduled in Ballroom C. To access these powerful moments you must violate the norms printed in the program and recommended by the President-elect. In those spaces, you may even happen upon a pair of individuals getting to a point where they break past the tradition and enact something new. But, alas, it’s rare, and for good reason.

The rarity is unsurprising because those spaces are not programmed nor planned. The premise of Crossroads is that people — specifically you — are invested in coming together to discuss ideas that matter. This is enabled by the deliberate space, separated from the antimatter, but it desperately requires something more of the active participant. To be a productive collaborator at Crossroads, you must present yourself as somebody concerned about what matters. Your paper and presentation must reveal WHY you want to share. Is it because the topic is central to who you are and/or who you want to be? Is it because you are seeking compassionate critique from others who share your drive? Are you designing ways to empower a disenfranchised group? Beyond nurturing deliberations about issues that matter, Crossroads serves as a springboard for doing things that matter. Don’t bring the lamentations about the insensitivity of your supervisor or the struggles you’ve been having with accreditation. (It’s a close competition, but we’ve got you beat on both fronts.) More important, we’ve learned that that stuff doesn’t matter. It will always be there and trudging through it only slows us down.

In contrast, if you find yourself longing to engage with others in a community that talks about what matters and considers ways to do something in response, we urge you to make that evident in your Vexation and Venture. In return, we (the coordinators of the conference along with all of its participants, including you) dedicate the space to support and even push you forward in your actions. We can save the antimatters for somewhere else — we all know where those papers can be accepted for presentation. For Crossroads, we embrace the challenge to not only talk about what must be done, but to take responsibility to see it through. We look forward to witnessing each of us take up that challenge and responsibility.

_____

* This entire argument is built on the premise that NARST is real. You can look in Wikipedia to see that a page for NARST does not exist. Of course, its non-existence puts it in good company.

** Adam was not banned, the membership simply lapsed. I resigned from the Board not out of protest, but to minimize conflicts and maximize focus.

polite dinner guests

Over the years, John and I have shared many meals and drinks together. Perhaps this is why we use the model of “polite dinner guests” as the standard for potential Crossroads participants. Invited people should be able to listen attentively and engage constructively. Representing diverse backgrounds and perspectives, they’re the kind of people that you hate to see go, and those whom you’d like to host at your table again. They are willing to sample new appetizers and enthusiastically clear the dishes at the opportune time.

Your own experience at Crossroads is a powerful resource for detecting and inviting additional guests to the table.* You can help us to enrich the pool of participants with even more witty, creative, driven, critical, and generous individuals. Think about who might be a good person to welcome and have sitting across from you at this table. Ideally they would have a background that would complement the dinner party — a new scholar in science education, a teacher emboldened to take students to a National Park, an artist working to sketch collaborations with a science classroom, perhaps an engineering educator building a bridge to help us with NGSS, etc. But they would also be ready to articulate a personally professional challenge and equally receptive to input. The ideal dinner guest listens attentively and contributes thoughtfully, more enchanted by the ideas of others than by the sound of their own voice.

Give it some thought, but don’t rush this identification process. Allow time for it to marinate (or perhaps ferment), because finding great Crossroads people should not be done in haste. In truth, the very best candidates are those who may not actively be seeking an invitation, though they often understand the objective quite clearly. Should you uncover someone who might be good to add to the mix, let them know that this year’s Crossroads will be held in Cleveland on October 1-3, 2015, and proposals are due by May 16. (And I suppose we just let you, dear reader and subscriber, know this information as well.) If you and others can help bring guests to the table, we will do our part to make sure to have the other ingredients and the ideal chef on hand.

_____

*There is a long-standing tradition of us inviting great people to Crossroads, and this has led some to believe that the only way to gain entry is by receiving a golden ticket from John or Adam. Not only is this not true, there’s no way it could be sustained. The point of inviting people is to help identify and encourage those who will understand Crossroads and its purpose. Because the meeting is so hard to explain sometimes, it’s best represented by a previous attendee’s testimonial. That’s why we’re calling on you.

a new collage

heatherinprivate For a long time, both in rhetoric and in active contemplation, we have wondered Where is Heather? If you’re new to this conversation, here’s a brief history: Heather was a 9th grader featured in the iconic Private Universe video. This program began with interviews of Harvard students on graduation day being asked to explain causes for seasons and moon phases. Heather and several classmates attending the public school across the street expressed similar confusion about these topics. Many science educators were introduced to alternative conceptions, conceptual change, and qualitative research via this video. This articulate 14-year-old showed us that the bright student could misconstrue ideas in all kinds of amazing ways, and at the same time enamor us with logic and resourcefulness.

The problem is that Heather isn’t a 14-year-old anymore. Like others who “grew up” into science teacher educators, during each science methods course we pull the video off the shelf as if Heather is a preserved specimen in a jar. However, Heather is not the character we have contrived. Science educators cobbled together an involved narrative about Heather based on a few hours of classroom video and a handful of individual interviews. This fiction does not describe who Heather is now, nor ever was. We should be embarrassed that we turned a 1987 ninth grader into an unwitting paragon for science education. Further, we ought to be ashamed by our complicity since no one gave Heather any influence over her persona. True: her mother signed a video permission form. However, the science education community treated this as a license to invent stories based in a reality as thin as the VHS tape on which Heather was recorded.

Heather engages us in making our own mistakes.

Heather encourages us to embrace mistakes. (All photos by Ron Proctor)

Through a series of serendipitous events and surreptitious efforts, we have been able to follow-up with the real Heather. When the two of us talked with her over an extended lunch about her life since the Private Universe, she dished out considerable food for thought. When we invited her to share with a larger audience, she brilliantly devised ways to communicate her musing by engaging the attendees at the 2014 Crossroads in a collective craft project. Along the way, we became acquainted with the real, genuine, adult Heather who, like all of us, is a collage of experiences, relationships and aspirations for the future.

Making art with Heather

But are we falling into the same trap once again? Here we are: talking about Heather, posting images of her in a manner reminiscent of the actions by the Private Universe creators. This concern was voiced during our Town Hall session at the end of our conference. Interestingly, this revelation was magnified as our time with Heather increased. She interacted with the conference attendees for twice as long as she had with Private Universe videographers. Along the way we learned that Heather embraced her role in science education, and that she was more than her 9th grade self and those misconceptions. In retrospect, this should have seemed obvious; but we have been enculturated. Moreover, so many of us had “used” Heather, her image and her youthful eloquence, to such good effect for so long that we’d forgotten that Heather was substantially more than a voice describing indirect light in ways that confound scientists but are reasonable to architects.

Although we went to great lengths to make bring Heather into the conversation on her own terms and as her own self, we realized the potential for not representing Heather as she wants to be. It would be reasonable and responsible to ask Heather makes of all of this. It turns out she described it before we had the chance to inquire. Incidentally, we agree with her that this professional learning event is better than Disneyland. In fact, we’ve been especially delighted to see that she intuits Crossroads better than most:

The goal of this activity is to leave the conference
with two pieces of original art. One piece is purely
yours. The second piece is a collaborative artwork.
These two artworks represent the purpose of the
Crossroads conference; you leave with both the
progress you’ve made on your own work, alongside
the impressions made by participating with your
colleagues’ work.

The literal and metaphorical use of a collage was a gift from Heather to all of us. We produced something not by avoiding mistakes, but by embracing them. We worked together, side-by-side and eventually left with new pieces contributed by others that we packed into our bags. In turn we gifted pieces of our own background, experiences, and ongoing efforts towards the ventures of colleagues. The exchanges occurred while producing cut-and-paste craft collages as well as through our collegial conversation. People brought their Vexations and Ventures and left with them thoroughly cut apart and reworked.

XRoaders dig in to collage making

During our time with Heather, we learned that despite our imaginations we still were not fully prepared for what would transpire. Initially, there was the awe that we had forged an intersection between Heather and ourselves. Those who know us well just nod (or shake) their heads and say “of course you invited Heather.” It was all in a day’s work/play: the same whimsy and gumption that created Crossroads in the first place. Still, our amazement that Heather-of-Private-Universe was our contracted presenter was replaced by a collective awe of Heather-the-artist/teacher/mother. We did not fully realize all that we could learn from Heather. And yet somehow she knew and took the license and liberties we granted her. The most important lesson was not that Heather’s misconceptions didn’t disable her for life – although that’s important to note. Rather we were reminded about the necessity of continually reaching out to others for fresh perspectives, advice, and inspiration. That’s why Crossroads first came into existence. From now on, each time we see the 9th grader in Private Universe, there will be the reminders about the real Heather and the important lessons she continues to craft for others.

Despite all the lessons about graciousness and generosity, many at Crossroads asked to be photographed with Heather. Each request began with: “I’m sorry, but is it too weird to ask if we could get a picture together?” Heather knowingly accepted the role she had in so many of our science educator trajectories, gladly posing for those portraits. John and I were just as pleased as anyone else.

Heather & John

Adam & Heather

professional learning

Hear that? It’s the shuffling of papers back and forth as John and I are reviewing proposals for this year’s conference. This is one of those episodes of my work life that I look forward to. Really. It’s lots of work, but the kind that I want to dive into and indulge in. People submit problems and pose real solutions, and I get to be one of the first two people to interact with this. Generally, John makes a run through with edits and comments along with his advice and recommendation; and then I get to follow, either adding to or countering the advice he gives. There’s this strangely effective and engaging trialogue going on between the original author and the two reviewers. This gets captured in the margins of the page and our colored-font appendices of each of your papers, and it often extends into the final draft and presentation.

And then there’s this anticipation, like the one I start to develop as I look at a summer concert lineup or a beer tap list. We get to see these pieces and not only help with their development, but also imagine how they’ll pair with others in incubator sessions as well as the overall program. It’s a very human endeavor, complete with a true excitement. Those of you attending this fall will see John and I hopping up and down like little 8-year-old boys, delighted to see our friends and the party that has finally started after all those months of planning.

All this has been swimming in my consciousness as I just saw that our publication about Crossroads has just come out to press in the slick pages of ASCD’s Educational Leadership:

Settlage, J. & Johnston, A. (2014). The Crossroads Model. Educational Leadership, 71(8), 67-70.

You’re welcome to cite this often. It’s also useful to show to deans, spouses, and others who may doubt that this meeting and its format could be a real thing. Some of you are even described and photographed within this 4-page documentary.

The piece is inserted into a focused issue entitled, “Professional Learning Reimagined.” We thought that Crossroads was a good example of this reimagination, and this gave us a good forum to present and document the model. Yet, the most striking thing to me is that within this issue our model is sandwiched in between descriptions of a MOOC model and a “flipped” model for professional development. These are both perfectly legitimate and important in this day and age, but as I’ve described the human elements of the conversation before and during Crossroads, I realize that our very simple, low-tech model of describing a problem and talking to one another may actually be a genuine innovation. When we crafted Crossroads, the impetus was a frustration that other conference structures — including every technology introduced to meetings — actually place barriers between people. If Crossroads does nothing else, I hope that it continues to forge connections between us and between our professional efforts. I can’t think of anything more vital in professional learning.

plans and crafts, calls and invitations

by Adam

A few weeks ago, John and I spent a few days in Portland, Oregon, and there we schemed and crafted a plan. Or, really, a collection of plans. I hardly know where to start, but I suppose that the best way to start is to announce the

Call for Papers

for Science Education at the Crossroads 2014

at the Heathman Hotel

in Portland, September 25-27.

There are details, and there are stories, and we’ll be happy to tell you all of these and how they’ve derived at the bar of the Heathman, in between Incubator sessions, or perhaps even during our initial reception. For now, here’s what I think is important to announce:

Invitations
We’ve always been deliberate in our inviting and encouraging submissions from people that we consider “polite dinner guests” that have Vexations and Ventures, as well as offer a diverse set of views. At the same time, we recognize that we can’t possibly know everyone that we need to extend invitations to, especially those who are new to the field or otherwise on the fringes. So, we are making a call for nominations of individuals that we should invite. If you’ve been to Crossroads, then you have a feel for how the meeting works and who both needs and can contribute to the meeting. We need you to send us a note and tell us about this person. A former student? Great. A new colleague? Fantastic. A teacher you work with and would like to have contribute to the discussion? Wonderful. In addition to these, what would be best of all would be someone interested in …

Professional Learning
We play around with different features to add to the Vexation and Venture format each year, and this year we would like to promote the specific theme of “professional learning.” We’re especially interested in V&Vs that are about your own endeavors to work with teachers, scholars, and other professionals as they practice and develop their craft. We consider Crossroads to be one example of this, and, in fact, we are pursuing external funding to support the 2014 meeting and our efforts to present this as a model to others. Our strategy is to bring together those who are making strides in professional learning, both to learn from them and to offer the Crossroads model as the backdrop for those discussions. So, we encourage your contributions along these lines (and, frankly, we’ll favor those contributions in the selection process), as well as all of the other possibilities that will respond to our …

Call for Proposals
The call follows our typical format of Vexation and Venture, with the additional encouragement to work on proposals that focus on your own professional learning opportunities (professional development for teachers, mentoring of new scholars, development of a new writing conference, etc.) described above. These are due by April 26th, a Saturday, per our tradition. And, earlier is better. Early contributions bring us joy, make the spring sun shine a little brighter, and give us something to do other than grade papers. And, they especially help us build up an expectation and high hopes for the pile of contributions we should expect. We expect a lot, because we have some plans …

Conference Setting
John and I are rational people, most of the time. Yet, while putting together details of this fall’s meeting, things kept coming together in beautifully coincidental ways. The Heathman Hotel is just one example with its perfectly sized meeting space and cozy atmosphere. The meeting rooms are adjacent to a library filled with first edition, signed books — each autographed by the authors when they stayed at the hotel. There are close to 3000 of these titles … and John and I decided we really ought to finish writing our Crossroads book. The hotel emphasizes the arts in all forms, including original Andy Warhol compositions on every level. Over lunch with our keynote speaker, she talked about using Warhol in classrooms where she volunteers. Which prompted an excursion back to the hotel to show her the artwork. There we bumped into our friend the Sales Manager who was excited to show us the dedicated Andy Warhol suite that had just been vacated. As luck would have it, our keynote presenter is going to model professional learning by incorporating arts and crafts into her presentation. But that’s not even why we contacted her in the first place. That’s another story, and eventually we’ll explain. We haven’t even told you about our field trips that we hope will turn into an excursion during our last evening in Portland.

It’s been a long two years for us to wait, and we’re very, very excited at the many prospects. So, get to work. Send us names and emails of people you feel would be good attendees based on the theme of expanding the craft of professional learning. We are excited to assemble everyone, new and old, together in September.

service and planning

by Adam

It was one of those days. You know, you wonder where the time has gone, what you’re really supposed to be doing, and whether this is really making a difference. Usually, if I keep myself in a classroom for a good part of a day then I can really feel like I’ve done something worthwhile. Outside of a classroom, depending on the context, life can sometimes feel like I’m a character playing out a scene in a Dilbert cartoon. And then, during a conversation with someone above me on our org chart, I was told, “It’s nice that you reach teachers across [the state], but you need to think about how to help out [our university].” That statement, referring to some collaborative grantsmanship I’ve been working on, kind of capped off my day.

http://dilbert.com/strips/2013-11-08/

I could go on to about the multiple problems with this mentality: that it’s not someone else’s job to direct my scholarship for which I’m accountable, that the university has a mission designed to serve the state and local community, that we have bigger ambitions, …

As I fussed about all this, I found myself thinking about people I’ve met at Crossroads who would agree and are also the people who work on projects that are not easy to execute or with measurable outcomes. People grappling with how to frame an innovative research project, host their own conference, or reform a single classroom. The trouble is, I haven’t seen many of you, for an obvious reason: We didn’t host a meeting in fall 2013. By now you’ve figured this out, even though we didn’t send out a formal announcement (though a few actually asked what was up). You’ve seen a few extra posts here, as we’ve encouraged some of you to describe work that you’re currently involved in — and we still hope to see a few more examples of this. The idea has been, while John and I have been regrouping and trying to get out from underneath other projects, that you people would be out there continuing to do important, fulfilling work.

Yes, we’d still love to hear about this. So would everyone else. Send us your story and we’ll get it posted right here.

But, also, there’s this, the thing that I can no longer hold back announcing. (This seemed especially apropos when I’m told to think smaller, internally, rather than broader and collaboratively.) We’re getting ready for a meeting the fall of 2014. We’re headed west, and we think we know the city; the RFPs are going out to sites; we’re having conversations with our keynote presenter; we’re planning a trip to visit the conference site in a couple of months. A call for proposals should be out in March.

John and I started feeling the need to ignite the conference again almost as soon as we’d decided against hosting a 2013 meeting. Frankly, we need a bigger perspective. We want to see what people are up to, what their projects are becoming, and what new initiatives they’re daring to undertake. I’m excited to review proposals, match people together in Incubator sessions, and even to pick out the menu for lunches. And the keynote … well, you’ll just have to wait.

More details are forthcoming. But for now we can say that we’re looking at an early weekend in October for the meeting, with proposals due around the first of May. Until then, I have a collaborative grant proposal to write so that I can work with science teachers around the state.

Science Education at the Crossroads 2018 Alta Lodge; Alta, UT, 11-13 October 2018

Announcement(s)

Science Education at the Crossroads 2018
Alta Lodge; Alta, UT, 11-13 October 2018