Month: February 2008

Total 25 Posts

How Animoto Gets Animoto Wrong

Jason, one of the Animoto guys, responds to my criticism, admitting his utility’s limitations as a storytelling mediumwhich, of course, is the box most K-12 educators are forcing Animoto into, even though it makes VoiceThread look awesome. but then noting its “great pedagogical usages,” the most interesting of which is:

… the Animoto presentation is in a style that many students are familiar with (MTV-style videos), I think it adds a great juxtaposition of using an aesthetic with which kids are already familiar, along with learning material than [sic] they are being exposed to for the first time.

Animoto is a staggeringly cool tool which almost everyone โ€“ even its creators, off Jason’s comment โ€“ appreciates for the wrong reason.

Specifically, Animoto creates photo montages better and faster than any other Internet utility but, over the long run, the fact that the montages jitter and bob with the music โ€“ its most celebrated and distinctive feature โ€“ does nothing for me as a media consumer and less than nothing for me as a educatorwatch a dozen in a row and let me know how quickly your returns diminish..

This isn’t because I like taking shots at the high-flying School 2.0 balloon or even because this is a matter of opinion. It isn’t. Nor do I take some old-fashioned exception to the MTV aesthetic.

But the MTV aesthetic, even at its most arresting, spasmodic, and hypnotizingly awful, gives content some considerationeg. the lyrics of a dark, dreary song inform the visuals at least a little.. Animoto has no such capability. It will adjust the speed of your video to match your song but it does not care even a little about your photographic content.

Its z-axis transitions look great but they are selected wholly apart from your content and, several times per slideshow, they obscure it โ€“ cropping out your Auntie’s face and strobing several shots over the rest of your family โ€“ simply because Animoto doesn’t know any bettercf. the Ken Burns effect, which, stale and tired as it is, zooms, pans, and crops photos all to enhance content..

“No two videos are the same,” claims Animoto’s main page but each slideshow shares in common a complete, 100%, de facto disregard for the relationship between form and content. Maybe it’s unfair of me to suggest that educators oughtta know better but I’m astonished that this same crowd which dumped all over MTV in the ’90s has missed this, that it has endorsed a tool good only for spackling enthusiasm across a crowd as meaningful learning, as meaningful assessment, as meaningful self-expression.

If you’re going to teach this at all, you owe your kids to teach it right. Yet my colleagues’ enthusiasm for visual expression has outpaced their understanding of it by several orders of magnitude.

What efforts are you making to get this right?

Oh Yeah, And This Other Thing:

NEA Today : teachers :: Highlights : kids

I mean, look at this spread. Seriously. I get this thing in the mail every month and every month I stand in front of my box for, like, twenty minutes, shocked that this thing is pitched at adults, shocked that I pay for it.

Still can’t figure out if Reg Weaver’s going for Goofus or Gallant, tho’.

This Thing I Just Realized:

Teachers : Animoto :: Teenage Boys : Michael Bay

Animoto belongs in the classroom as much as Transformers does in an arthouse.

The masterminds behind both are clearly field-tested and combat-readyCheck out the Animoto intro video, which is a motion-graphic marvel, for proof., but as a storytelling device, as a medium for instruction, as a delivery device for anything but rockin’, noisy thrills, light on content, heavy on flash, their products flatly suck.

Again: if you want to strike an emotional chord with your audience or jazz up your Poughkeepsie vacation slideshow then Animoto’s got you covered.

But all y’all Classroom 2.0 Animoto-philesI only subscribe to their feed ’cause I’m running a heated bet with myself that Sir Ken Robinson’s state of the educational union will get 900 individual mentions (” … hey, has anyone seen this video … “) before school’s out. So far I’m winning.: when has any worthy learning moment come as cheaply and easily as an Animoto slideshow?

  • Upload your photos. [Great interface.]
  • Browse their archives for music. [It automatically embeds the citation.]
  • Uh.
  • Wait?
  • That’s it?

Yeah, I realize it slickly analyzes your music for tempo and adjusts visual rhythm to match but nowhere does it analyze your photos for content. Nowhere does it automate a narrative. Nowhere does AnimotoOr Michael Bay, while we’re here. do anything more than jab your frontal lobe with a sharp, happy stick.

*poke poke poke*

yeah! yeah! yeah!

Not saying there isn’t a place for this, but I am saying it isn’t the classroom. This is decidedly the one-size-fits-all visual essay and if I’ve gotta brainwash your kids when I get ’em from you and reteach ’em the form, it won’t be without posting this cranky missive first.

Gone In A Few Thousand Seconds

In December, a student gave me a gift card to a nearby sandwich shop. It was used. He didn’t care about the balance and neither did I. It was an irreverent Christmas gift, a tiny act of care from a student too cool for caring. I appreciated the gesture, naturally, but had no idea what to do with it until a few days ago.

It was lunchtime and I put it on a shelf somewhere just off the beaten classroom path. I circled my lunchtime crowd and asked them, “how do long do you think it’ll last before someone takes it?” We took bets, bragging rights for stakesFor the record, I take bets on everything. During our dimensional analysis unit, I’ll tell ’em Randy Moss ran the 40 yard dash in 4.25 seconds and take five bets on how fast that is in miles per hour. Easy, superficial, easy method for pumping them up for the work. Did I mention easy?.

If you guessed 24 hours, you’d have every reason to crow.

It kind of kills me how slippery my stuff is around here. Students take everything. Compasses, calculators, and rulers, in particular, have a shorter shelf life than whole milk.

That fact wedges me awkwardly between two competing interests. On the one hand, I want my stuff to remain my stuff for maybe a semester or two.

On the other hand, the obvious solution here (some kind of check-out system) is completely antithetical to my classroom game. My classroom is the place that it is, in large part, because I keep time-hogging administrative details to a few minutes daily and, as much as possible, I keep them out of my students’ line of sight.

eg:

I don’t dedicate a regular time slot to attendance. I don’t dedicate a regular time slot to homework review. I rarely pass back work โ€“ just assessments and only while they’re occupied by something interesting.

I feel strange wasting even small units of time. I draw up the next day’s highlighted problems the night before in Keynote and have them ready to go at a click of my remote.

Total time saved: maybe thirty seconds per problem, but all these measures taken as a sum make me, like, the richest teacher I know.

ie:

If I want to host a classroom spitball session on strategies for surviving a 47-story fall, or show Vampire Weekend’s awesome little music video, or mention in passing last year’s most popular baby names, or all three in the same period, I don’t worry about falling behind my colleagues or missing year-end benchmarks. I have hours in the bank.

I can’t speak with much precision for how my students feel about all this but I try to imagine this classroom from their perspective, a classroom which actively excludes boring self-sustaining details and instead pushes engaging moments into all available space, even the margins.

I’m working hard at it. I want this class to be the best paced and most engaging math class they’ve ever taken, even if it’s really, really poorly stocked.