I argue because I care...

If you saw a woman walking down the street with her skirt caught in her knickers, obviously as a result of a post-restroom-visit 'wardrobe malfunction', would you tell her? No? Why not? If the woman was your wife/mother/sister/daughter, would you tell her?

What's the difference?

If you overheard a stranger at a bus stop saying they were going to X place, and then noticed that they were about to get onto the wrong bus, would you tell them?

If the harried mother in front of you drops her child's shoe, do you pick it up and return it to her?

If someone is unknowingly making an absolute prat of themselves in public, can you sit there and laugh at them?

If your best friend's spouse/partner is cheating on them, do you tell them?

If you're in a conversation and someone makes cites a piece of information that you absolutely know to be inaccurate, do you contradict them?

To me it's all the same thing. If you care enough about that person, you tell them. You overcome your own embarrassment, your own distaste for confrontation, your own cultural dictates and you let them know. If they choose to continue along that chosen path, at least you can be sure that they are making an informed choice.

I am often told that I am argumentative. What people don't realise is that I argue because I give a damn. Seriously. I don't set out to be difficult. It matters to me. All of it. I want you to know that we have recently discovered that the earth is round, that it revolves around the sun, that learning styles are bogus, and that your fly is open. I want to perform the Heimlich manoeuvre on you when you're choking and I can't stand around and watch you embarrass yourself in public.

So let's say I make a strong statement and you go off and mutter to your friends/colleagues about how misinformed I am, but you don't tell me how misinformed I am. When I find out about it, I am going to assume it's because you don't care enough to set me straight. To engage with me. To argue with me, even.

Is my fly open?

On why we should be generous

Those who still adhere to an older business model are puzzled by those of us who engage in the various social spaces with people who, in effect, are our competition. Happily, we advise each other on the best way to tackle this or that problem, and we take uncomplicated pleasure in the knowledge that we have helped one another.

Today, courtesy of a new Twitter follower, Indira Balki, I was reminded of this poem which reflects much of this attitude:

One Star Fell and Another by Conrad Aitken

One star fell and another as we walked.
Lifting his hand towards the west, he said–
–How prodigal that sky is of its stars!
They fall and fall, and still the sky is sky.
Two more have gone, but heaven is heaven still.

Then let us not be precious of our thought,
Nor of our words, nor hoard them up as though
We thought our minds a heaven which might change
And lose its virtue, when the word had fallen.
Let us be prodigal, as heaven is:
Lose what we lose, and give what we may give,–
Ourselves are still the same. Lost you a planet–?
Is Saturn gone? Then let him take his rings
Into the Limbo of forgotten things.

O little foplings of the pride of mind,
Who wrap the phrase in lavender, and keep it
In order to display it: and you, who save our loves
As if we had not worlds of love enough–!

Let us be reckless of our words and worlds,
And spend them freely as the tree his leaves;
And give them where the giving is most blest.
What should we save them for,–a night of frost? . . .
All lost for nothing, and ourselves a ghost.

I have nothing to add to that.

On belonging

Like most people, I have a strong need to belong. To feel accepted. Like most people, I am also picky about where it is that I am accepted and by whom.

When I originally started blogging, I stood in awe of the likes of Kathy Sierra and Stephen Downes (among others). I hovered on the sidelines of the spaces they inhabited and then grew brave enough to contribute my twopenn'orth to the conversations they were having. For different reasons, neither of these two people are particularly strong on responding to blog comments - Kathy (who no longer blogs, to my knowledge) received so many comments that she was physically unable to respond to them all; Stephen believes that his readers' comments have validity in and of themselves, without needing his affirmation or validation (or so I seem to recall from somewhere... blowed if I can find where he said it). At one point, I posted something that took an opposing stance to something Stephen had said and almost fell off my chair when he spread a little link love and referred to my post in his OLDaily the next day.

It was this kind of acceptance that made me feel as if I belonged. And social media are great for this. They are such levellers. For example, to extend the Downes story for a moment, the nature of the relationship I have with Stephen has become increasingly relaxed over the years, as we have become connected in a wider range of social media spaces, to the point where we engage on personal issues as well as shared professional interests.

Switching tack for a moment, let's look at this belonging thing from a slightly different angle:

Because of a quirk of genetics, I always found it very difficult to find clothes that fitted me. I was the woman who hated clothes shopping, because after three stores full of nothing that fitted me, I began to feel like a freak. Things that fitted here, didn't close there, and things that closed there, hung like a sack everywhere else.

Then a wonderful woman called Sarah Tremellen established Bravissimo, an outlet for... well, check it out for yourself.

I don't know who developed her marketing plan, or whether she is naturally insightful, but she has formed a community for women who - like me - had to put up with all the strife that goes with being the shape that we are: quite apart from the struggle to find decent clothing, there are the assumptions about our morals and our intelligence levels, the ribald remarks, the failed attempts to conduct professional conversations with men who later wouldn't recognise your face if their lives depended on it.

I was an early adopter of Bravissimo and am a fan of just about everything about it: the decor in the stores, the defiant quotes on the walls, the professional fitting service. But most of all, I love that I can walk out of their stores feeling like a shapely woman, rather than a freak.

Recently, I was in one of their fitting rooms, when I overheard a woman in the next cubicle make a discovery: due to significant recent weight loss, she no longer fell within Bravissimo's target audience. The store no longer catered to her. She was utterly crestfallen as she said, "It looks like I'm just not a Bravissimo girl any more."

Why do I relate this story?

Because, in spite of the fact that the woman in question had achieved goal weight and all the attendant health and aesthetic benefits, in spite of the fact that she could now buy clothing from any high street store at a significantly lower price, she had effectively ousted herself from the community, and that was causing her genuine distress. And yet, one becomes a member of the Bravissimo community in the first place as a consequence of being excluded from all manner of other communities.

The difference is that Bravissimo deliberately fosters that sense of community, that sense of belonging.

As we build our learning environments and create our communication spaces, let's look for ways to foster that same sense of being part of something that make a person feel special. Something they will be reluctant to leave.

On being a starfish rescuer

A comment on one my of my earlier posts today put me in mind of this story by Jeff Roberts (reproduced below). I had only heard it told up to the end of the fourth paragraph before, so it was an education to me to discover that that was only half the story. I'm trying to decide whether the second half adds to or detracts from the first half. What do you think?

One morning after a particularly fearsome storm, a man arose early and decided to go for a walk along the sea. As he neared the beach, the early riser saw an old man in the distance slowly, yet purposely, ambling down the shoreline. As he watched, the old man stopped, picked something up, and tossed it into the ocean. Then, the old man slowly straightened himself up, walked several more feet, stooped down, and once again picked up something, which he tossed into the sea.

Intrigued, the early riser moved closer. As he drew near, he realized suddenly what the old man was doing. Littered all down the shoreline, as far as the eye could see, were thousands upon thousands of starfish cast out from the ocean by the fury of the now-passed storm. As the early riser watched, the old man bent down, gently picked up a small, helpless starfish, and tossed it back into the ocean. He repeated the same process every few feet.

After a minute or two, the early riser approached the old man. "Good morning, sir" he said. "I couldn't help notice what you're doing. I commend you for what you're trying to do, but the storm has washed up thousands of starfish on this beach. You can't possibly save them all! What possible difference do you hope to accomplish?"

The old man paused for a long time, pondering the early riser's question. Finally, without saying a word, he bent down, picked up a starfish, and tossed it far into the ocean. "It made a difference to that one," he said.

Now, it was the early riser's turn to be silent. As he looked at the old man with growing admiration, it seemed as if the years fell away, revealing someone wise, noble, and strong enough to stand up to any challenge. Deeply moved, the early riser struggled for the right words, but none would come. At last, he too, bent down, picked up a starfish, and tossed it into the ocean. The old man, watched intently. He spoke not a word, but his nod and a wink said all that was needed. "Well," the early riser said as he looked out at the thousands of starfish stranded on the beach before them, "It looks like we've got a lot of work to do."

Just then, the two men realized they were not alone. Others out for their Saturday morning walks and jogs had witnessed what had taken place. When they saw what the old man and early riser were attempting to do, they too bent down and picked up starfish of their own. Soon, the morning sun shone down upon hundreds of good Samaritans - young, old, black, white, rich, and poor; each working diligently to save as many starfish as he or she was able. What had started out as one, had grown into an army of kindness.

Some time later, an amazing thing happened. As the last starfish was tossed into the ocean, a spontaneous cheer broke out among the starfish rescuers. People hugged and high-fived each other. Some exchanged names and numbers and promised to stay in touch. Others walked off together to share breakfast with new friends. To a person, each one felt they had done something important and had made a difference.

That morning, in the span of only two hours, five thousand starfish were saved, and hundreds of lives were transformed. All because one person cared enough to try to make a difference.

I've no doubt turned your stomach and rolled your eyes before with this assertion, but I reckon we surprise ourselves with how fulfilled we can feel when we do something selfless.

In a recent debate I had, someone was taking the view that my rights had been violated in a certain situation and couldn't understand why I wasn't as angry about it as they had been under similar circumstances. This person has been nursing that anger for almost as long as I have been alive.

My own view is that this attitude is largely what is wrong with society today. We are all so focused on 'my rights' that we become far too self-involved. If we look outward instead of inward, if we demonstrate concern for one another instead of stamping our feet like petulant toddlers who can't have their own way, if we can break out of our self-pity cycle and start to look for ways to give other people a leg-up, we find ourselves in a much better place as individuals, which inevitably has a ripple effect.

This is why I do what I do. I thrive on being the person who gets to give someone else a leg up, even if that takes them to a place I've never been and would like to go. Wendy Wickham once called me an 'evil enabler'. I am happy to own that epithet... and any others of that ilk!

I'm dead serious. This is not namby pamby, pink and fluffy New Age psychobabble - you would have to go a long way to find someone less enchanted with New Age stuff than me. This is genuinely how I live my life.... and it works! Give it a go and tell me I'm wrong.

Looking at communities of practice

There are a lot of ideas out there about what constitutes a community of practice (I am avoiding capitalisation, because I don't want to formalise the concept).

Dave Cormier has posted a contribution to the conversation, which has attracted some interest from the... well... community. The title of the post refers to 'managing' a community of practice. The quotes are his.

I can relate to the need for those quotes. From where I sit, my community of practice comprises a group of individuals I have chosen to learn from. They are the bloggers whose blogs are listed in my aggregator. They are the individuals I hold in esteem within the world of learning professionals. Some of them might not even realise that I regard them thus. Some, indeed, my not even readily recognise my name.

So I don't actually exercise any management of the people. I manage the intangible entity that they constitute in my very subjective view of the world. I may add new 'members' or remove those whose work has taken them down a path no longer relevant to me. I choose to comment on their blog posts or not. I choose to follow (or not) the conversations among others that ensue from their posts. I engage with them in various spaces: Ning communities, Facebook, online programmes of collaborative learning, etc.

So in effect, what I am managing is myself. My own online activity. And in a way it amounts to pretty much the same thing.

I prefer it this way.

Were I to exercise any direct management over the people, I would have to take responsibility for the direction of their output. This would put an end to serendipitous learning. I would unwittingly restrict my own learning journey because I know not what I know not... until someone addresses the matter and draws it to my attention.

So, to my wonderful community of practice... those of you who know that you belong and those of you who don't... I revel in the knowledge that I have no idea where you're going to take me next, but I look forward to the ride.

After all, this blog is called Karyn's erratic learning journey.

Who I read update

Some time ago, I posted about whose blogs I was reading on a daily basis, which folks appeared to find useful. Yesterday I twice found myself recommending blogs that I read, so I thought the time had come to do a bit of an update. I will restrict myself to those which did not appear in my last list, unless a previously listed blog deserves a special mention for some or other reason:

For general inspiration, and usually unrelated to my field, I have a daily dose of:

Gaping Void. Hugh MacLeod cuts straight to the heart of issues and illustrates them with a unique and instantly recognisable style. Harold Jarche once sent me this one of Hugh's cartoons. I printed it out and stuck it on my desk. I still have it and, let me tell you, in my new role as self-employed L&D Consultant, it is proving truer than ever!

Head Rambles (severe language warning). A pseudonymous, award-winning blog penned by the hilariously cantankerous Grandad. He's not really as cantankerous as he would have us believe, though, and occasionally reveals his warm, fuzzy side, which he attempts to cover with bluster.

More closely related to learning:
blog of proximal development. Konrad Glogowski is a passionate learning professional seeking ways to understand the challenges facing the developing world and to address them. He has recently returned from a trip to Africa, and is currently writing about issues very dear to my heart.

e4innovation. Grainne Conole (GRON-yeah coNOlee) is Professor of e-learning at the Open University. She is a somebody on the learning scene. The first time she commented on my blog I nearly got the vapours. One of my colleagues emailed me to say: Wow! Grainne Conole reads your blog! You've arrived! Unfortunately that proved to be no more true than the first time Stephen Downes gave me a shoutout. I guess you just gotta make it on your own worth ;o)

e-Luminations. Kobus van Wyk (KWUHbiss fun VAYK) is involved in an initiative that seeks to address the technological inequity faced by teachers in the poorer parts of South Africa. A worthy cause indeed, encountering obstacles most of us wouldn't even think of!

Experiencing E-learning. Christy Tucker has become one of an increasingly tight-knit group of ladies I meet in all sorts of spaces. This group also includes Wendy Wickham, Cammy Bean and Janet Clarey. We play online Scrabble derivatives against each other in Facebook. We comment on one another's photos, take an interest in one another's families and encourage one another on a personal level. That is not what makes Christy's blog worth reading - what does, is that she thinks out loud on her blog about her own experiences, which many of us share with her.

Growing changing learning creating. Just the title of Tom Haskins's blog should pique the curiosity of any innovative learning professional. He and I had an early run in, when I challenged him on one of his posts about blogging some time ago, but that doesn't prevent his reflections from being worth reading. In fact, unless we want to live in echo chambers, we should take care to engage in conversations where disagreement is expressed.

Jane's E-learning Pick of the Day. I can't believe I left Jane Hart off my last list! What was I thinking? She genuinely provides a service to the L&D community by reviewing a useful tool every single day, many of which are free. She also compiles lists: tools favoured by the community; L&D Twitterers; Social networks for L&D professionals, you name it!

Learning. Not the most frequent of bloggers, Lynn Wernham often points to and reflects on posts she has read, allowing readers to leapfrog to conversations they might otherwise have missed - particularly if they share her passion for coaching and mentoring in the workplace.

Learning Design and Performance Improvement. The newly capped Master's degree holder, Benjamin Hamilton shares his reflections on emerging technologies. .. although he has been AWOL since June. You still out there, Benjamin?

Making Change. Cathy Moore is possibly my favourite 'talk sense, provide practical advice' blogger in the whole world. I think I have shown so many people her action mapping post that anyone who hasn't see it must have been in a coma! Cathy grasps the reality that workplace learning is about change and tackles that fact head on... with cracking illustrations!

Neurophilosophy "is a weblog about molecules, minds and everything in between". There's a lot that happens on this blog that I don't understand - Mo Costandi is on a different plane from me - but those posts I do understand blow my socks off every time. I have learned a lot more about the brain than I would have thought my own brain could handle, largely because Mo writes so well and so accessibly.

Technogenii's blog. I met Kristina Schneider through a Facebook group and wound up becoming one of her interview subjects for her dissertation. We share a passion for the use of social media in corporate learning. Like me, she experienced her ups and downs on the journey to her Master's degree. Unlike me, she has now submitted her dissertation!

The Rapid eLearning Blog. Tom Kuhlman is an Articulate whizz. He should be. He works for the company! many organisations have reached the koolaid point on Articulate and are wielding it something like the hammer that makes everything look like a nail. While I don't think it is as universally applicable as some would have us believe, Tom provides such usable, practical ideas, that I find myself tagging just about every post he writes!

Group blogs:
Work Literacy. This "is a network of individuals, companies and organizations who are interested in learning, defining, mentoring, teaching and consulting on the frameworks, skills, methods and tools of modern knowledge work."

Workplace Learning Today is a Brandon Hall initiative exploring issues that the title suggests "coordinated by Gary Woodill... with contributions from Janet Clarey... Richard Nantel... and Tom Werner"