A few weeks ago, the 2nd graders presented research exploring how communications have evolved in recent history. For these children, the record player is from their grandparents’ generation, CDs from their parents’ time, and iTunes is the current source of music. It was an awkward moment when I shared that records were also of my generation, silently assuming that they thought of me as part of the “parents’ generation,” and one student responded, “same thing: you and grandparents.” As a child and adolescent, I had records and they were magical. That a black, sleek, grooved disk could, together with its player, create music always impressed me. With cassette tapes, music became portable and personal, another leap into a new magical world in which you could hear your song anywhere you went. And now, I still can’t seem to let go of my CD collection, despite my friends’ invitations to meet them in the 21st century. I do now have invisible music that I store on a device th...
my ideas about learning and leading, contributing and questioning, my family and my work.