To celebrate making the front page of the Bangor Daily News, I’m publishing the first chapter of A Bad Case of Moosepox. Of course, if you’d like to get your own full copy of the book, Chris may still have a few that he might be able to sell.

Chapter 01- The Diagnosis

I suffer from a debilitating and incurable disease. No research foundation or national charity is dedicated to its eradication; and the disease has left me, and over a thousand other victims, facing increasing pain and suffering as the years progress. However, before I enlarge farther on the agonies that befall our small group, let me assure you that we collectively enjoy every moment of our affliction. This has become part of our lives, and it gives us strength as we face many of our problems.

We have not been attacked by an ordinary virus, but by a very special virulent type, which we have picked up over a long period of years as a result of our association with a small camp for boys in Maine. The disease is lingering, and in my case has done much to limit, and at the same time, expand my life over a period of some 60 years, with no end in sight. I refer, of course, to the scourge of Moosepox.

I can explain my exposure to this rare disease in one short sentence, but I will need the rest of this book to explain that sentence. The sentence is: “When I was eleven years old I was sent away to summer camp.” The explanation and results are more complicated.

The camp had the improbable name of Flying Moose Lodge, and almost the moment I set foot on its turf, I was hooked. Three years as a small camper infected me with a serious case of Moosepox, which can only be described as a growing infatuation with the camp and the way of life it engendered. Seven years after my camper days, I attempted to find relief from the pangs, which increased with each succeeding year, by returning in the role of a counselor. Things only got worse. They got so bad that in 1940, when the camp came up for sale, I bought it. For me to take this step with our country facing world war, and myself just out of college, may sound foolish, indeed; but we sufferers are prone to make rash decisions. Be that as it may, that was one of the best decisions I ever made.

Directing the camp since that moment has eased some of the discomforts of Moosepox, but others have developed. The continuing desire to maintain the camp’s original philosophy, and at the same time provide for an extension of opportunities for future generations, developed into a time consuming job. Don’t mistake what I am saying, I loved every minute of it, Moosepox and all. I am sure that the family has felt from time to time that the camp was consuming all of us, for Alice and the children were developing the disease at various levels as we spent our summers in that magical environment. Now grandchildren share with us, each infected in his or her own way by the pox which is upon us.

It is a rare month that doesn’t bring a letter from a distant camper or counselor, which, when you read between the lines, indicates that others suffer as well. Occasionally, I will receive packages of old camp mementos, which were probably sent on at the insistence of a long-suffering wife who was finally determined to clean out that closet or desk once and for all. I have been sent old camp newspapers, yellowed with age, which have been saved for all these years. They send me old photographs, and even old camp awards which go back to the 1920s. I often wonder how many times those pieces of Flying Moose have crossed and re-crossed the country, and have been packed and unpacked, just to preserve a small piece of a wonderful past.

I suppose that it is inevitable that anyone who works at one thing for some 50 years, will have stashed away many memories of those days so well spent. Personal and interesting as all those memories may be, it is too much to expect that any one other person will have exactly the same collection, even one as close to all of this as one’s wife. However, there should be a considerable number of people who can remember along with me at least some of what follows; and having once lived in the intimate circle in which all of this took place, can well imagine how the rest could have happened. Those who have never heard of Flying Moose Lodge can, perhaps, find amusement as these recollections touch on parallel situations at other places and in other times. If you have never been to Maine, and if you have never been associated with a boys’ camp, some of this may seem strange, and at times childish. Rather than feel sorry for you, I would like to share this different world, and show you what you have missed.

I certainly never realized during my camper days that I would some day own and operate Flying Moose. The idea never occurred to me; but if it had, I am sure that I would have relished it. Good things evolve slowly, and so did my association with the camp. When I decided that I wanted to become a teacher, the possibility of becoming involved in summer camp during vacations seemed only natural. What started out as summer employment, soon began to fill the days between vacations as well, and my case of Moosepox became more acute.

Directing a camp for two months, and teaching school for the remainder of the year, may at first seem like an effective way to split the year into two completely separate parts. I was soon to learn that the two were intricately entwined. In the summer I found myself away from the classroom, yet constantly discovering new approaches to old problems, approaches that could make me more effective in the academic world. Even more so, I found that although I might be in Pennsylvania or New Jersey with the family between summers, that I was never very far from Flying Moose, and consequently not very far from Moosepox. There was plenty of time for brainstorming. There was plenty of time to think through difficult situations. There was also time to work out carefully the design and detail of new projects as they came along. On top of all that there was the challenge to present our program to a growing audience, in hopes that enough campers would enroll so that the summer would pay for itself with, perhaps, something left over for mortgage payments, and for four struggling college nest eggs.

What follows is not arranged chronologically, for chronology has very little to do with Flying Moose. That is why campers from the distant past can return in the 1980s and feel very much at home with the same buildings, the same attitudes, and the same philosophical outlook. That is why old campers can enjoy current copies of the camp newspaper; and present day campers can derive an equal amount of interest from the old copies in the files. That is exactly as it should be. Very little changes at Flying Moose except the length of boys’ hair.

The summers I spent in Maine as a camper, a counselor, and as a camp director, have meant much to me personally. They have given me golden opportunities to make my own decisions, some of which were good, and some of which were not quite so good. I feel strongly that the events of those years, as well as the people involved in those events, should be recorded in some fashion, in hopes that they may bring even a fraction of the enjoyment that is mine, to all those who have shared those great years at Flying Moose. My children seem to think that I am approaching the age when I will forget all that has happened, or what is perhaps worse, lose all sense of proportion. Now is the time.

Place yourself in the role of a fly on the wall, or if you prefer, of a mosquito in the tent, and see if you can understand a little about Moosepox. See if you can understand how the interactions of hundreds of people at this small camp have meant so much to so many. Yes, Flying Moose has touched the lives of scores of men and boys; or more appropriately, scores of men and boys have touched Flying Moose. Each has left his mark, some more indelibly than others, but nonetheless marks. In what follows some names will appear again and again. The story can be told no other way, for some contributions were so uniquely personal, that to mention them anonymously would do them an injustice. Of course there is much that I have left out, for not every moment can fit conveniently into 22 limited chapters. Above all, remember that the camp itself had a strong personality of its own. It almost seemed that it recognized how important that personality was to so many of us; and it worked tirelessly to keep it so. I have felt during many trying moments that the camp took over and kept things on an even keel while I fumbled and bumbled in the wings.

stuff I was going to plant today: bishop weed, sedum, raspberries, dead nettle, fortsythia

Having just  spent all morning (since 9:30, and minus breakfast) working in my backyard planting and weeding, I consider myself something of an expert gardener. And in those many long hours (an entire lifetime for some bacteria), I’ve collected nuggets of wisdom that I thought I’d share with the world. Here are a few:

1. Anything that you didn’t plant is a weed, so remember what the stuff you planted looks like.
   • Dave’s Corollary: If you pull it up it’s a weed, regardless of whether you planted it.
   • Friend’s Garden Corollary: If it’s your friends garden, it was their prized and rare [something or other]
   • Tree Corollary: if it’s bigger than you, it’s not a weed.
2. Working in the shade on hot sunny days is nicer than working in the sun.
   • Earth’s Rotation Corollary: Shade moves; think ahead.
3. Weeding while sitting is easier than while bending.
   • Bucket Corollary: a 5-gallon bucket turned upside-down makes a nice seat.

I’m pretty certain that these are all new and brilliant revelations, and I bequeath them to the world of gardeners out there. It’s the least I can do. Glad to help.

P.S. I didn’t plant Bishop Weed (a.k.a. “Snow on the Mountain”) because some people passionately hate how hardy (invasive) it is. You’re welcome.

Why.

I want to change formal education from an institution primarily built around the administration and tracking of students, to one built around the personal and unique interests of each student. One that allows for the creation of natural communities of practice/affinity rather than of “classes” based on what instructors and institutions feel can/should be taught next in a designed sequence.

[Disclaimer/Explanation: While designed sequences of courses can be very educational, developmentally appropriate, and bureaucratically efficient, they often suffer from a "one size fits all" design and pace that doesn't match the needs of individual students as well as is now possible. While I am ultimately advocating  for a major overhaul, I recognize that the reality of change usually occurs in minor, iterative steps until new paradigms are introduced, accepted, and embraced. So be it. Let's start iterating.]

How.

First off, this is nothing new. This is merely an expansion of what John Dewey was advocating when he wrote of occupations and vocational education (Democracy and Education, 1916, p. 359 — see attached image). What makes it more compelling and relevant now is that technology and the abundance of information and connection of experts via the internets make this more possible than ever.

With current computer authentication technology, the administration and tracking of student progress can be much easier than it was when everything had to be entered in by hand. With access to online affinity communities, and game-like simulations, assessment can be peer-generated and based on real world success in authentic problems rather than based on standardized tests that require that every student be forced to learn the same thing in sometimes ridiculous and irrational formats (because those are the formats that are easiest to grade)

Because so much content is now accessible online, teachers no longer needs to be experts in every subject offered *and* in teaching. They can instead focus on guiding their students along personalized learning trajectories, and let students gather content from online sources. They can teach how to filter good information from bad information. They can teach the *application* of content, and critical thinking skills.

A specific example: Caro likes robots. By making her interest in “robots” the main focus of her education, we can help her learn many overlapping subjects. In learning all about robots, she will:

• learn the history of inventions, inventors and robots;
• read literary cultural works involving technology and robots;
• wrestle with what it means to be human, to have original thoughts and creative impulses;
• learn to draw/design in order to design robots
• learn mechanical engineering in order to build them;
• learn math, computational thinking, syntax, and programming languages in order to program them;
• consume and produce online content with others around the world who are interested in robots;
• learn social skills and etiquette from these intereactions;
• learn to iterate on prototypes and designs;
• learn to fail and learn from her failures;
• become a local expert in robots among her peers;
• etc.

A general example: Juan likes to help. By making his interest in helping the main focus of his education, we can help him learn many overlapping subjects. He will:

• read about social engineering
• wrestle with philosophical dilemmas and conflicting ideals of morality
• learn Aristotelian logic and computational arguments
• learn debate and rhetoric
• learn people skills and the dynamics of managing diverse personalities
• eventually find a specific interest (veterinarian, specializing in, um, kittens) to further his focus
• etc.

What.

We need to begin by supporting and developing Personalized Learning Environments and Tools that can also support community-building and peer support. As these become mainstream, we need to alter assessment strategies to include rewards for social support (i.e. you get points towards graduation for being a helpful member of your communities).

1. Mobile, 24/7 access
2. Customizable portals
3. Community-rewarded support systems

Diana Rhoten, of Startl, speaks of the need to cater to the learning demands of the current generation of learners who, she argues, are following “Interest-driven Learning” — achievable now, and driven by the creation of an unprecedented technical infrastructure. Kids now prefer to follow a learning path of consumption, production, and participation. It starts by finding their interest and coaching them through their development of it. Although Rhoten focuses on younger kids than we find in higher education, much of what she says applies to the demographics that we serve. Indeed, higher education (and programs such as UW-Madison’s Digital Media Assignments) may be a grand testing ground for this, due to our demographic of already “plugged-in” students — an exceptionally large population of tech owners/users compared to the under-12 set that Rhoten works with.

It’s a beautiful video. Watch it and let me know if you think it makes sense.

Scarecrows

This is of scarecrows, leaning.

Of skeletal wards in secondhand garb

bound to oakposts in much younger plots,

This is of beacons, of old

soundless stalks shaped like men,

standing rows in grim watch.

This is of old weathered faces

fixed out at the sky, and of faces

with eyes dull as corn.

For them, for gaunt duty, decisions

not made but imposed — where

they stand, and for whom.

And ancient dry bodies, and droughts

long withstood, thin thought sticks

ignored, keeping fields.

It’s not for the green bones, those

bent in their youth, or rude crows,

scarce with care, ever cawing.

It’s not for the tillers who plant

the straw men, or for poets

endeavored to steal.

I write for the scarecrows

indifferent, in tune, who wave

in the wind at the progress of corn,

and smile within.

-johnmartin 1999

Contents

[ hide ]

1. 1 Things Needed:
2. 2 Advice:

Things Needed:

• wheelbarrow
• keys
• hose
• fence
• renter for 2-BR

Advice:

• um…

(I guess this new “wiki” plugin still requires folks to login, get an account, etc. — pain in the butt. Just add comments below, and I’ll update. Thanks!)

After all, what clearer, more luminous light are we ever afforded? Especially here where the light comes rising over the sea, just the opposite of my old California haunts. But in the old days one never could, because, of course, ordinarily it would be too dark to see the paints; or else, if you turned on a light so as to be able to see them, you’d lose the subtle gathering tones of the coming sun. But with an iPhone, I don’t even have to get out of bed, I just reach for the device, turn it on, start mixing and matching the colors, laying in the evolving scene.

Hockney continues:

It’s always there in my pocket, there’s no thrashing about, scrambling for the right color. One can set to work immediately, there’s this wonderful impromptu quality, this freshness, to the activity; and when it’s over, best of all, there’s no mess, no clean-up. You just turn off the machine. Or, even better, you hit Send, and your little cohort of friends around the world gets to experience a similar immediacy. There’s something, finally, very intimate about the whole process.

I asked Hockney whether he’d mind my sharing some of these images with a wider audience across a printed medium, and he said, not really, he more or less assumed that the pictures would one by one find their way into the world. “Though it is worth noting,” he adds, lighting one of his perennial cigarettes, “that the images always look better on the screen than on the page. After all, this is a medium of pure light, not ink or pigment, if anything more akin to a stained glass window than an illustration on paper.”

ABC News covered a similar story about a New Yorker magazine cover:

I would add (and will continue to) that iPhone drawing is but one of thousands of ways that mobile technology can change the way we teach and learn. Think of any other form of location-based fieldwork, and consider whether “there’s an app for that.”

I've been pretty open about the ideas floating around in my head since an incident in my undergrad years when a group of colleagues realized we'd been thinking the same thing, but each thought s/he was the only one. Blogging has only increased the potential of reaching others, but does so in a fairly non-invasive way. Unlike a megaphone that folks can't get away from, or even commercials that are hard to fast forward through (or used to be), the blog is fairly innocuous. My titles hit Twitter. The title and a first line or two hit Facebook and the aggregators, which means people can decide in half a second whether to skip, scan, or click to read. 

My job as a blogger is to assemble my points accordingly. This is slightly different than what comes naturally to me.

Lucky for me, there’s help through a Writing Center Workshop. I’m signed up.

Here’s the skinny:

Productive and Professional Blogging