I wasn’t “born digital” as John Spear defined those born after 1980. They are the lucky ducks that just get it or if they don’t, they don’t even think twice about clicking away until mission accomplished. I love the tech immigrant analogy because it fits my way of thinking and behaving so well when it comes to technology. Just like a stranger in a new land, I am cautious and reluctant to click away. I am afraid of being embarrassed by those natives all around me who might think me stupid, out of touch or just plain old.
Also like an immigrant, I come to this new land of technology, expectant and hopeful of a better way to teaching, learning and living my life. So here I am, on a journey to become a naturalized citizen in the world of technology in order to fully participate in every way technology has to offer.
Also like an immigrant, I come to this new land of technology, expectant and hopeful of a better way to teaching, learning and living my life. So here I am, on a journey to become a naturalized citizen in the world of technology in order to fully participate in every way technology has to offer.
I know I am a little bit crazy, well maybe a lot. On paper it sounded good. Get training about LeaningMedia and the very next week share what I know to others about this dynamic teacher resource. But now the reality is hitting that I need to be an expert and I have hardly had time to let the ideas swirl in my head much less make sense of them. The MACUL conference is a big deal in Michigan. This year it is being held at Cobo Arena with thousands of attendees. WHAT WAS I THINKING???
I needed to put some kind of presentation together-so PREZI came to mind. A Power Point with movement-maybe I can fake it that I am tech savvy. Could I even remember how to do PREZI? Ah-relationships scored again. Last year I had gained the help of a TV production student to help me with a class project and he had recently touched base with me via email. “Shae, I have an emergency and could you help me out?” I asked. The next day at Panerea’s we knocked it out, so simple with his guidance. There still were a few tense moments, backing up my on line presentation to my 5 year old Mac. Oh, I need an upgrade to do that? GRRRRR . Last minute edits. GRRRRRR And that doesn’t even take into account the immigrant thinking (What will all these techies think of me trying to teach them something) that had me physically shaking in my, at least I could look hip, Tory Burch flats.
As I drove to Detroit, audibly rehearsing my script, all the things that could go wrong were popping in my head. What if my PREZI flips out? What if I loose connection to the LearningMedia site as I am explaining it? What if I get lost and am fumbling with the technology and my every action is on the big screen? What if they ask a question and I don’t know the answer?
TXT: Can you present at 1:30 instead of 2:00. Ok, I replied. Get this over with, I thought. I arrive at Cobo, park and enter the massive structure. Where do I go? Surprisingly people are so helpful, and even were expecting me. I enter the hall and wind my way past bustling displays and find the area for the Spark presenter. Then I see Matinga Ragatz, my mentor, my saint of technology and I feel safe. I feel more able to take the risk of putting myself out there to give what I know and let it be.
An affirming hug, some introductions and I was feeling her experienced calm encompass me. A little time to sit and talk with new acquaintances and before I knew it, it was show time. I felt ready, I felt supported, and I felt surprised that the audience’s eyes were so welcoming. The presentation went without a hitch, people so interested and accepting of this PBS resource. However, what I didn’t expect or prepare for was the fact that the physical space was being closed all around me as I spoke. You see there was a schedule snafu and workmen were tearing down the hall I was in. “This hall will be closed in 5 minutes!” boomed through loud speakers. Props and equipment were being removed with each word I spoke. Overhead lights flashed. Even though I had to rush though some parts of the presentation, the audience was very interested, took flyers, and treated me like I was an expert! The absurdity of the logistical situation made me think no amount of planning could have prepared me for that one. As I giggled inside, the intimidation I had felt from the attendees just melted away. I could put them in a more realistic perspective. They were teachers just like me and were here to gain new information and understanding. I realized I had that to give. Confidence swelled within me. Maybe, just maybe PBS did need me.
I needed to put some kind of presentation together-so PREZI came to mind. A Power Point with movement-maybe I can fake it that I am tech savvy. Could I even remember how to do PREZI? Ah-relationships scored again. Last year I had gained the help of a TV production student to help me with a class project and he had recently touched base with me via email. “Shae, I have an emergency and could you help me out?” I asked. The next day at Panerea’s we knocked it out, so simple with his guidance. There still were a few tense moments, backing up my on line presentation to my 5 year old Mac. Oh, I need an upgrade to do that? GRRRRR . Last minute edits. GRRRRRR And that doesn’t even take into account the immigrant thinking (What will all these techies think of me trying to teach them something) that had me physically shaking in my, at least I could look hip, Tory Burch flats.
As I drove to Detroit, audibly rehearsing my script, all the things that could go wrong were popping in my head. What if my PREZI flips out? What if I loose connection to the LearningMedia site as I am explaining it? What if I get lost and am fumbling with the technology and my every action is on the big screen? What if they ask a question and I don’t know the answer?
TXT: Can you present at 1:30 instead of 2:00. Ok, I replied. Get this over with, I thought. I arrive at Cobo, park and enter the massive structure. Where do I go? Surprisingly people are so helpful, and even were expecting me. I enter the hall and wind my way past bustling displays and find the area for the Spark presenter. Then I see Matinga Ragatz, my mentor, my saint of technology and I feel safe. I feel more able to take the risk of putting myself out there to give what I know and let it be.
An affirming hug, some introductions and I was feeling her experienced calm encompass me. A little time to sit and talk with new acquaintances and before I knew it, it was show time. I felt ready, I felt supported, and I felt surprised that the audience’s eyes were so welcoming. The presentation went without a hitch, people so interested and accepting of this PBS resource. However, what I didn’t expect or prepare for was the fact that the physical space was being closed all around me as I spoke. You see there was a schedule snafu and workmen were tearing down the hall I was in. “This hall will be closed in 5 minutes!” boomed through loud speakers. Props and equipment were being removed with each word I spoke. Overhead lights flashed. Even though I had to rush though some parts of the presentation, the audience was very interested, took flyers, and treated me like I was an expert! The absurdity of the logistical situation made me think no amount of planning could have prepared me for that one. As I giggled inside, the intimidation I had felt from the attendees just melted away. I could put them in a more realistic perspective. They were teachers just like me and were here to gain new information and understanding. I realized I had that to give. Confidence swelled within me. Maybe, just maybe PBS did need me.