I’ve been tardy in acknowledging a lovely gift from Bob Carlton, a blog reader, church leader (and possible seminarian), and entrepreneur in technological and educational products. If I were to say that Bob sent a compilation CD of songs that he chose for Lenten listening, someone might think he violated copyright law; but no one could complain if I say that emailed me with a list of songs that seemed especially fitting for the season. Some I knew — who, with my taste, would not have heard Bruce Springsteen’s “Into the Fire”? — and some I recognized as I listened to them (The Blind Boys, Ben Harper, Bonnie Raitt, Johnny Cash, Rufus Wainwright). And David Sedaris’s report from Paris on learning French as a second language at Eastertime. But other songs were very new to me, and the compilation works beautifully together.
As I listened and thought about Bob, I thought about some of his earlier work in educational technology. Bob was involved with a couple of my least favorite programs (WebCT and the accursed BlackBoard) and was working the money-making side of the street. That’s OK with me; I’m not against folks earning a living. My argument with MegaCorp educational enterprises rests on the premise that they’re rushing to make the money that they can by providing “solutions” that prematurely constrict the commerical imagination relative to educational technology.
That’s not a fatal problem, of course; so long as tech/ed people like Liz, Alex, Anne, Sebastien Paquet, Sebatian Fielder, Jim McGee and countless others (and teachers like Trevor and me who have glimmers of intuition about possible aternatives), innovation will break through. If a company really got the cluetrainical gonzo marketing point, though, they’d see that perpetuating familiar models of “courseware” and even of commodified education offers only a short-term answer. They’d recognize that the digital transition will soon transform familiar products and practises, and would be funding experiments like Liz and Alex’s and the Disseminary. With a relatively low investment in experiments by educators who aren’t themselves R & D employees of the company, an alert entrepreneurial ed-tech company could observe what works and what doesn’t could indeed advance the rate of the transition and begin (ahead of competitors) to figure out how to make money under the transformed conditions.
Again, I’m not knocking Bob, who has generously offered his epxerience and insight to Trevor and me as we stagger along in our grandiose pedagogical experiment. thinking about his carreer, though, I wished that one of his former employers or clients were offering material support for the ventures that so excite me (and stand to benefit them, if they could see it).
[Postscript: After I finished typing, Bob sent a message reminding me that “on Monday, 24 March 1980, the Archbishop of San Salvador, Monsignor Oscar Arnulfo Romero y Galdamez, was celebrating mass in the Chapel of the Hospital de la Divina Providencia when he was killed by a professional assassin. . . .” One of the many websites that report on Romero’s life reports that he said, “Peace is not the product of terror or fear. Peace is not the silence of cemeteries. Peace is not the silent result of violent repression. Peace is the generous, tranquil contribution of all to the good of all. Peace is dynamism. Peace is generosity. It is right and it is duty.”]
Posted by AKMA at March 24, 2003 11:14 AM | TrackBackThe rest of our conversion follows a similar vein. Instead of going through line by line, let's just compare end results: when the transition is complete, the code that used to read:
Posted by: Elizabeth at January 13, 2004 03:26 AMThe most basic duality that exists with variables is how the programmer sees them in a totally different way than the computer does. When you're typing away in Project Builder, your variables are normal words smashed together, like software titles from the 80s. You deal with them on this level, moving them around and passing them back and forth.
Posted by: Janikin at January 13, 2004 03:26 AMWhen the machine compiles your code, however, it does a little bit of translation. At run time, the computer sees nothing but 1s and 0s, which is all the computer ever sees: a continuous string of binary numbers that it can interpret in various ways.
Posted by: Emma at January 13, 2004 03:26 AMNote the new asterisks whenever we reference favoriteNumber, except for that new line right before the return.
Posted by: Theodosius at January 13, 2004 10:21 AMEarlier I mentioned that variables can live in two different places. We're going to examine these two places one at a time, and we're going to start on the more familiar ground, which is called the Stack. Understanding the stack helps us understand the way programs run, and also helps us understand scope a little better.
Posted by: Morgan at January 13, 2004 10:21 AMThe Stack is just what it sounds like: a tower of things that starts at the bottom and builds upward as it goes. In our case, the things in the stack are called "Stack Frames" or just "frames". We start with one stack frame at the very bottom, and we build up from there.
Posted by: Alveredus at January 13, 2004 10:22 AM