Score one for the old people

When we are old enough to have experience, we are often seen as merely old. I am reminded of this frequently.

I recently took my daughter (who is 15) to see Jazz at Lincoln Center with Wynton Marsalis at The Walton Arts Center. We've been seeing live theater and attending concerts since she was old enough to sit through performances, many of which she doesn't remember. This particular event was high on her list, however, because she plays the trumpet and often listens to her favorite Marsalis CD. It was high on mine for several reasons.

Art, music, poetry, and literature are all--in some form or fashion--about history. Sometimes the history is of a people or a society, sometimes of an individual. And educating our youth to be productive members of society requires some understanding and respect for history. The recent concert was full of history, from Count Basie (one of my favorites) to Dizzy Gillespie and exciting new compositions commissioned by The Metropolitan Museum of Art (where I've also taken my daughter).

Soft-spoken Marsalis (who did not, by the way, command the spotlight very often or for very long during the recent performance), talked with respect, affection, and a gentle sense of humor about the jazz greats on whose shoulders he stands. He described one gentleman as being "old when I was in high school" and the one who would hang around "to tell us we were playing the music wrong." Marsalis went on to say that seeing the man as old meant Marsalis wasn't seeing (or hearing) the right things. This "old" man became Marsalis' mentor, teaching him much.

Being in the presence of history and learning from it is a rare gift. Most of us realize far later what opportunities we had, what lessons we spurned, what greatness we missed. Teaching, for me, means cherishing those moments when the magic happens...and realizing that most of the time my role is to offer what I have, letting others decide what they see or hear...and whether they need it. And, sometimes (as my daughter says), we can "score one for the old people."

What we learn...or don't

Predictable cycles are standard fare in strategy texts. It matters, for example, whether your industry is primarily a slow-cycle market or a fast-cycle market (affecting the speed with which your competitive advantage is lost). It also matters whether you are on the pendulum swing toward or away from centralized management. And there are others. But the up-close-and-personal cycle I'm seeing this week is the one seen pretty universally across colleges and universities--it's the mid-semester slump. We (meaning students and faculty) know it's coming, think we're better prepared for it this time, and experience it anyway.

Learning from the past (history) or from others (case studies) gives us the intellectual ability to interpret our behavior, whether corporate or individual. Amazingly enough, very few of us seem to be able to change it much.

Everything old is, well, all there is

One of the joys of teaching any subject is watching the "aha moment" when a new concept or piece of information slips almost visibly into place. One assumes a synapse fired, a neural pathway was created (or completed), and the mysterious process of learning just occurred. It's one of the best experiences I know. And the mystery is that the only things worth really knowing haven't changed--ever. Sure, the details change, the names change, the packaging shifts, but the truly important things don't change.

The challenge for teachers is to honor the ancient, understand the new, and help bridge the gap for the students. As much as I love this process, some days I am just not up to the challenge. There are not enough hours in the day, days in the year, or years in my life to know enough to be a truly competent teacher. It's humbling.

Black belts

Students want to get it right, think it all hinges on a grade, and feel tremendous pressure (some of which is inflicted by professors, parents, and peers) to perform. Today, we talked about competitive rivalry and competitive dynamics, added some Sun Tzu on the Art of War (which you can download here), and dabbled in six sigma vis a vis Deming's Total Quality Management. It's a lot to absorb.

And, yet, when I tell them about martial arts and how a black belt entitles you to start over, right beside the white-belted beginner, the disbelief is almost palpable. It's no wonder so many of our businesses are overly focused on short-term results. It's woven into the very fabric of our educational system.

A mind stretched...

I've wondered what to do with this blog, since the original reason for writing was to chronicle the development of a beta course...and mostly for purposes of transparency. Oddly enough, doing something slightly out of the mainstream is not always well accepted in the halls of the academy. But I've missed the communication (albeit somewhat one-sided), I'm teaching the course again this semester, and...well...I miss my blog.

So, as time and opportunity allow, I'm going to continue writing about the old/new/hybrid Business Strategy course, how teaching it the "old" way won't ever be what it was...and it's too soon to know what it may become...and perhaps the gap will cease to exist or to matter.

What I know for sure is that I have a new enthusiasm for the course as it was, since the changes in my approach have changed...me.

So, what now?

A recent edition of Campus Technology listed 5 Higher Ed Tech Trends to Watch in 2010. According to the technology experts, we can expect to see more interactive and dynamic classrooms, to use more ease-of-access (to both information and people) tools, and to use existing technologies in diverse ways. What's exciting about the list is, well, everything. What's frustrating is that our own experiment has met with mixed results.

The feedback from the students in my class echo the trends and comments of the technology experts at other colleges and universities. One student who took the time to provide written feedback said, "I liked the classroom setup and being able to sit in little circles with our team every day. It helped open up conversation." For teams working together, this seems a good thing.

But in order for the CLC to work well, we have to limit the number of students in a particular course and, ideally, create more CLCs to maximize the availability of the technology and the collaboration. We've not been able to get approval for limiting class sizes, however, so the CLC will cease to exist in its present form. The technology will remain, but the collaborative configuration won't.

So, was the experiment a failure? Not when you consider the perspective of Oliver Wendal Holmes, Jr., when he said "Man's mind stretched to a new idea never goes back to its original dimensions." Taking a risk and trying something new may turn out far differently than we intended; it's in the risking and the trying that we discover growth, new possibilities, and change. I've learned things this semester that will make me a better teacher next semester. And, hopefully, we have 30 students who will be vocal about their preferences and who may, someday, be in a position to shape change for others.

More fun than is probably legal in the classroom

This is how I've responded for most of the semester when asked "so, how's that strategy class going?" And it's true. It's not that we've played; in fact, we've worked very hard. What's been fun, though, is watching the phenomenal things students can do.

Recently, all of the instructors using the Collaborative Learning Classroom were asked for feedback on the room. Part of what I wrote:

The thought of returning to a regular classroom feels like punishment, after using the CLC; even without the technology, the room configuration is much more conducive to non-lecture types of learning/teaching. But the technology provides learning opportunities that complement the configuration, such as having students find (real time) answers to questions they pose, pursue related avenues of inquiry, or find what’s happened since the publication date of the article or text. Ideally, students would be able to bring their laptops and/or smart phones to class, where they become part of the curriculum, rather than part of the power struggle.

I've been able to get to know these students far better than I've been able to manage when teaching in a traditional classroom; maybe that says more about me than about the classroom. But I can't remember when I've enjoyed the learning experience more. And the quality of the work done by these students is nothing short of awesome.