I’m working on writing a statement of educational philosophy and yesterday I was stumped. I sat down to write and opened with “I believe…” Everything I wrote after that felt simultaneously true and hollow. My writing process, which wasn’t going great anyway, was disrupted by some family medical issues. (Everyone is fine.) I couldn’t wrap my head around what I was trying to do.

I texted two friends to complain/reach out. Each of them offered some really good ideas that I’m pocketing for later. They weren’t what I needed yesterday. What I was struggling with yesterday was the why. I knew what I believed about learning and teaching but I couldn’t figure out how to articulate why I believe those things.

I was very tired.

I emailed W. He was out of town for the day. I told him that I needed to talk my ideas through, that for whatever reason, I couldn’t get this done via freewrite (which is what I normally do). I said, “Tomorrow, let’s talk about it and then you spend some time with the baby and I’ll write.” (When do I need to call him something besides the baby? I mean, I use his name, obviously. But he’s 18 months old. The toddler doesn’t have the same ring to it.)

W. got home from his travels late at night. As he got in bed, I asked him if my plan was okay. He said, “Maybe we can talk about it when we go for a walk tomorrow.”

“Good idea,” I said.

I highly recommend finding a walking partner and talking about stuff as you walk. It’s so good. So we went for a walk this morning. W. wrote a teaching statement recently and I asked him to tell me about it. As he spoke, I realized that the piece that was missing, the why, comes from my own experiences as a learner and teacher. And that I needed to work that into my statement.

It felt blindingly obvious. I don’t know why I couldn’t make this connection without the conversation with W., but I have it now.

I won’t be posting directly to my Facebook timeline anymore. In keeping with my move to embrace the IndieWeb, any posts I make to Facebook will be syndicated there from my own website, kimberlyhirsh.com. Each Facebook post will include a link to the original post on my website. Through the magic of the IndieWeb, my original post will receive likes and comments that my friends post on the syndicated copy.

At my own website, I’m replicating most of Facebook’s features. I can post status updates, long posts, photos, and videos. I can share links. I can RSVP to Facebook events. I can create my own events and make copies of them on Facebook, and have Facebook RSVPs show up on the event post at my site. I use WordPress and I found a plugin that replicates Facebook’s On This Day feature. I can manually mark myself safe in an emergency and create a Year in Review post.

To make things super interactive, I’ve also created an old school Guestbook and a page where you can ask me anything. These two features aren’t entirely in keeping with the IndieWeb philosophy, which would have you create a post or page on your own site and then let me know about it. But as I don’t expect most of the people who want to communicate with me will be IndieWeb-ready, I’m trying to make it as easy as possible for you to get in touch with me still.

The one Facebook feature I’m not attempting to replace with my own site is Groups. My current plan is to check in each Friday to participate in my groups. That will also be when I check on my event invitations. I also can’t reply via Facebook comments directly from my site. If you want a prompt response or extended conversation, I recommend clicking through and commenting directly on my site. Otherwise, you’ll have to wait until my next Facebook log in.

None of this is way out of left field. I’ve had websites since 1996, and personally-owned websites since 2001. In many ways, I’m just going back to using the web like I did in 2002.

This is just the beginning of an idea, but as I dig deep into the IndieWeb and think about social media, Silicon Valley’s entry into education, critical technical practice, and other words that I will try to come back and find good links for later, I’m having a little brainstorm.

Information literacy curricula tend to focus, from what I’ve seen, on consuming information and evaluating the information other people produce: is this a reliable source? What’s the purpose and audience of this communication?

But as libraries transition from having consumption as their central purpose to places where creation takes centerstage and consumption primarily serves creation, we need to teach youth to think about other things. Who is going to own the content they create? Who can see it? What rights do they have as creators and artists? What benefits accrue to them from the different possible ways they might share their work? If we’re looking to create a generation that makes stuff, we need to ask them to think about the impact of the stuff they’re making as well as the amount of control they have over that impact.

Again, it’s a little brainstorm that I wanted to just jot down, but I hope to come back with more thoughts on this later.

You can’t really see it here but Tropical Diver is a gorgeous reef exhibit at the @georgiaaquarium and I kind of want to live there. Beautiful coral AND a Skeletor Moray? Sign me up!

I use this blog as my home on the web, so in addition to traditional blog posts, you’ll find here all the types of things you might find on social media. I know that can be overwhelming, so feel free to only look at long posts, short notes, shared links, photos, social media interactions, or what I’m reading/listening to/watching/playing.

Austin Kleon’s meditations on retail spaces for community building and creativity have me thinking about how libraries can learn from these experiences to create spaces that meet patrons’ needs.

I watched the first eight minutes or so of this and got major X-Files/BtVS vibes and I’m into it.