This edition of “Yep, that’ll do it,” takes us back to the year 2008. With technology being all the rage in today’s educational system, it’s not too surprising when school districts spend tens, or even hundreds, of thousands of dollars on the latest tech fad that is thrown out to the public by a one of the big tech companies. Oftentimes, this new tech (which *will* be treated as a panacea) is usually purchased without doing much in the way of due diligence, if any at all, as to whether or not the technology is either needed, or if the infrastructure is even available to support it—not to mention the technical support for when the devices aren’t working properly, or the inevitable need for an upgrade that is usually not available without administrative approval, because most teachers’ permissions don’t even allow them to adjust the clock, much less install software.
Around this time, one school district decided to purchase 200 brand-new Apple TVs for classrooms to use, under the banner of providing a mediated hub through which students could directly broadcast presentations from their devices—which, while it sounds quite useful, is almost completely unnecessary in most cases because the technology of “feet” allows them to walk over to the computer from which the screen is being projected and locate their presentation on their district-provided cloud drive (students without feet are provided assistive devices; don’t worry). True, their ability to play educational videos and use limited apps for potential scholarly games might help justify it, but since those things can be accomplished just as well with the very same computers that most teachers have been using to play them since probably the late 1990s (albeit, the A/V carts were still floating around, but most were only as necessary as the age of the library’s VHS collections), the overlooked factor in this equation is that the devices needed something to sync up with in order to use them… which meant it had to be a recent Apple product.
There was no real questioning as to why this was done, apparently, nor did administration have an actual plan as to how they would be implemented in the classroom. As with many technological purchases, it was done so on a whim because the law requires that any “earmarked” budget require its complete consumption in order to qualify for the same amount next year. Sure, the students with iPhones might be able to use it, but how many teenagers decide their position in the Android/iPhone war (if they’re even privileged enough to participate in it) based on which will allow them to most efficiently broadcast what’s on their screen to their entire class? My guess: not many. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if administration thought that these were actually televisions, and not the Roku-like box that we’re all familiar with. The entire ordeal seemed reminiscent of the kind of frustration some kids experienced when their parents or grandparents just referred to every single electronic device as “Nintendo”—except in this case, their disappointing present from the district included no gift-receipt… and they were followed up on and sometimes hounded to prove that they were using it.
With the cost at the time being $299 apiece (let’s just round that up to $300 for easy math), the total outlay for these 200 devices would have cost the district $60,000—probably a little more if you include shipping. I would add the cost of installation, but a small handful of the devices have only recently begun to get some use (10 years later) in a couple of classrooms on campus. Since administration didn’t do any research on how to use the gadgets, they eventually realized that the schools that received them had no other devices to actually work with them except the few remaining, and often too-aged, MacBooks that still haunted the occasional cart, since it took until 2008 to realize that Apple’s commitment to education was similar to their commitment to auxiliary inputs—if you can sell an extra adapter or twelve, then cross-compatibility among a diverse tech market doesn’t mean jack.
Administration—more specifically, district office administration (you know, those who have the least amount of interaction with the actual students) are admittedly in a difficult spot. The “grey wave” that promised increased retirement among those who were least technologically adept not only didn’t crash on quite as early of a shore as people were expecting, but it also carried with it the assumption that every incoming teacher under forty was going to be a MacGyver of technology, who would be naturally savvy to use whatever was thrown at them. Just like teachers might erroneously assume all their students know more about technology than they do (until they actually try to discuss it with them), the general belief is that if you give any “new teacher” a projector, a laptop, and an HDMI cable, they’ll be able to turn their classroom into that scene from the Matrix where Neo learns Kung-Fu. My projector only included HDMI inputs since the beginning of this year, though (because the budget for projectors is run by a different committee, probably), so unless you’re willing to put out a few hundred bucks for something you aren’t actually allowed to put in (putting in ceiling mounts is far outside the liability insurance in which you are included as a certificated district employee), then you have little recourse other than requesting the thing you need. There’s a form for that, and the response time is approximately several years, unless it’s something that involves what you’ve already been given. Unless you’re in a district where the superintendent is Morpheus, I guess… in which case I really hope my ed-join profile is still active, and please email me.
The deeper reason, of course, is pretty simple, and far more insidious: thanks to the revolving-door school district system, administration will list anything that they implement and which sounds proactive for student learning onto their résumé. Of course, they will also be long gone at their next job, or even the one after that (or possibly just retired), doing the exact same thing before any proof that the purchases made under their two-year stint could be shown as ineffective, at best, and proof of their collusion with exploitative tech-companies that take advantage of a captive audience, at worst. Many of these Apple TVs ended up stored in some portable (along with a number of other pieces of tech that were supposed to shift the paradigm) somewhere and have become nothing more than expensive dust collectors.
This is just one of many reasons that school districts are always claiming to be broke and are in need of more funding. Granted, there are certain districts that are underfunded, but for the most part, any increase in funding will be used for the purchasing of technology, or some other paid-for program, that administration observed for ninety minutes at some three-day conference. Regardless, the money will be spent by those who have the authority to spend it. They’ll use the opportunity as a photo op for the local media who rarely—if ever—do a follow-up story as to whether or not the purchases actually had a positive effect on student learning. After all, actual student learning doesn’t make for very dynamic pictures, because it can’t be broadcast over an AppleTV.
But all we have to do is find the device that will demonstrably show student learning, right? That’s what everybody has been waiting for, and if you can create a technology that will objectively display the actual learning a student mentally processes in a way that can be shown to others… well, you’ll please a lot of district office administrators.
Secretary: Mr. Escalante, Mr. Escalante, did you hear the news? We got the computers!
Jaime Escalante: Yep, that’ll do it.
(Stand and Deliver, 1988)