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All posts by Christie Veitch

Christie is the Educational Program Manager at Modular Robotics.
We have a sign on our production floor that says “Fail early, Fail often.” The application of this idea is simple and manifold in manufacturing Cubelets – it’s vastly better to have any number of parts fail to meet expectations early in the process of building Cubelets than to have a whole Cubelet assembled and then fail to work. This makes perfect sense but applying this strategy to my own “production” of classroom activities and lesson plans was a little challenging. It’s hard to foresee what might NOT work in a plan you’re generating when it’s on paper. And unlike Cubelets, plans on paper are hard to quality test in our factory.
From our Production Floor
So, I headed out to spend a few days in the classrooms of a wonderful school we are lucky to have a great relationship with. I know a little bit about working with a classroom of exuberant 6 year olds, or too-smart-for-their-own-good 9 year olds and lots of ages in between. I’ve taught a variety of topics in a variety of venues to students of a range of ages in the last 18 years. I’ve learned that there is one truth that pervades every class I’ve ever been charged with leading no matter who, what, or where I was teaching. Here it is – are you ready? Whatever you plan to do in a class, you must also plan to do things you hadn’t planned on. In other words, a lesson plan should include the elbow room to pounce on what is moving students closer to the discovery and understanding you’re targeting even if that means re-arranging parts of what you thought you would do. So, as I headed out of our office for a couple of days, my mission was pretty simple – I wanted to teach, using one of my classroom plans for Cubelets, and see for myself how it played out with real students, their real questions, and in a real classroom.

In large part, I was looking for any glaring gaps or problems – places where my lesson plan wasn’t coming in for a landing, or ideas the kids couldn’t connect with the robots they were making. Were my plans too ambitious? Too detailed? Not detailed enough? Fun? Boring? Observing “out in the field” answered all of those questions, raised others, and gave me a clear picture of what ideas students most actively cultured given Cubelets and these challenges.

But it also reminded me of something very fundamental about how I see education. Kids are “little scientists.” Without having the language for it, without a formal research proposal and with no grant money or fancy lab coats, kids are actively engaged in testing theories throughout their days. It’s their primary operating mode and they carry it out tacitly but very seriously in nearly all that they do. Piaget first stated this idea, and as he observed more and more children he added more detail to his proposed stages of child development. The overarching idea, revolutionary at the time, is that children engage in trying to make sense of their environments actively rather than just passively receiving information or being uploaded wholesale information, as onto a blank slate.

Like any theory, Piaget’s isn’t perfect.  There are more articulated versions of it, and less articulated versions, but the idea that kids are capable of developing ideas about what they encounter in the world and then revising them as they obtain more data informed the work of other great thinkers (Chomsky, Vygotsky, and Papert) in fields including Linguistics and Modern Cognition, Child Development, Math, and Computational Thinking and Education.

Watching students ages 5-12 taking on the task of being “robot investigators”  this “Little Scientist” model of how kids learn and reconcile their worlds seemed inescapable. I asked students to use observations of robot “behavior” or reactions to try and work backwards to find the cause. Students engaged deeply in the task of figuring out what their robots liked, would do, and which inputs corresponded with which outputs in order to best understand what their robot was sensing and why their robot was reacting as it did. Part of my lesson plan was about robotics, and part of my lesson plan was about biology and behavior, and a third part was about scientific method and critical thinking. (I’m the kind of educator that thinks learning these skills not only can but should be handled in inter-disciplinary ways.) I was thrilled with how sophisticated students were in proposing methods to test their theories and how industrious and boisterous they were in carrying out their plans and tickled by how gleefully students’ reported “We have a theory!” But what astounded me was that students pressed further into questions about what the robot knows or how the sensor worked. Students posed questions about robotics and behavior that I anticipated but I also got queries about what counts as “knowing” something, questions that pointed towards complexity and emergent behavior, biology, and what counts as “being alive” and impromptu musings on how brains work and what parts of them might be contained in a robot. Philosophy’s deepest conundrums exposed by children under five feet tall, no joke.

Scientists get used to looking for the fault lines in their theories and are trained to lay out their experiment design so that their methods have narrow parameters and their hypothesis are built to be discredited rather than confirmed. Although the “Little Scientists” I worked with didn’t have this training, they were perfectly capable of adapting their ideas to accommodate new information, even if that information complicated or undermined an explanation they had been busily shoring up just moments ago. In some cases I saw students pause in order to deeply reconsider their hypothesis and start over, but in most cases students were visibly excited by having more information, more insight, more to account for, even if it meant scrapping their idea and reworking from the ground up. I know adults, professionals, who could make fabulous use of the enthusiasm these students had for the “Fail early, fail often” principle – they seemed not just to abide it but to welcome the chance to absorb more data and revise. In that spirit, I returned from my jaunt with a new motivation to look at what I had created  and to re-work, rewrite, and revise. I’d seen six and seven year olds mournfully announce that “this robot is NOT listening to my words. I’m using my words like I’m supposed to and it’s not paying attention” and then be reminded that robots might be sensing other things than words. They immediately re-tasked themselves to find out what the robot could be responding to and to expand their thinking about a plausible explanation. It’s hard to not learn the lesson that testing things out and being willing to keep testing, refining, and amending is the way to be. With that in mind, here is an open invitation to try out our first Cubelets activities at home, in your classes, at an after-school program, or a camp, and tell us what worked, what you liked, how your students responded, and suggestions you have for improvements or next activities. Last week I used the lesson plans on Robots and Behavior, but I’ve also posted activities for Robots and Sensing, Properties and Characteristics, and Cause and Effect. They can all be found in the Education section of our Forum and start with the title “Cubelets Activity”. It would be wonderful to hear from educators of all varieties as they take a look at these and have thoughts about ways to make them better, suggested next activities, or feedback on how your students and kids responded. We plan on revising and re-working these many times. Theories are made to be tested, and the only way to do it is to get lots of data so we’re actively inviting you to be part of this exciting development with us, test these out, and then talk to us about them! Help us fail – I know from my time with young ones how informative failures can be! Many, many thanks to The Colorado Springs School for their willingness to let me try things in their classes!
My first science project involved growing 84 bean plants and measuring how they fared when watered with varied salinity solutions. All I really had to do was measure the salt and water, bottle it, and then grow the plants and water them on schedule. The next year I set my sights on something harder and collaborated with UCONN Avery Point’s Project Oceanology to identify possible ways of obtaining clams. Why clams? Well, I’d done a summer project with Project Oceanology on clam kidney stones indicating water pollution and I wanted to extend my research. More clams! More sites! There I was, an eighth grader, reaching out to marine research facilities and asking them if they would afford me access to the clams they obtained. I bought fancy paper and wrote letters introducing my previous results and the hypothesis and scope of this project. Then I proposed that if they were doing species collection, could they please give me clams that would otherwise just be counted and thrown back in exchange for sharing my data and results? I learned the term “Principal Investigator” and appealed to those people through the Environmental Protection Agency and state colleges around Connecticut. In addition to writing letters, I learned to interpret water quality data, mastered lab equipment, and I had to make good on my promise to share data and results. I even had an innovative moment because the middle-school science classroom I was in outfitted me to titrate, dissect, centrifuge, and use a microscope, but had nothing powerful enough for me to lever open the clams’ stubborn shells. Problem solved – my friends and I gleefully discovered that dropping the clams from over our heads onto the pavement did the trick – after all, I didn’t need the clams or their shells, just their kidneys. I think this is the value of doing a science project – the perseverance to follow research through and break it into manageable pieces, the realization that even if you choose a topic you are enamored with you will likely cross discipline lines to bring it to fruition, and the unforeseen problems along the way (I have vivid memories of those kersplatted clams imprinted on my memory). So, when I was offered the chance to judge Boulder Valley School District’s High School and Middle School Science Fair, I leapt at the chance. Immediately, I thought, What a great opportunity to partner with the schools here while wearing a name-tag that says, “Christie Veitch, Modular Robotics.” But, to be honest, my motivations ran deeper than making contacts in our backyard. We’ve been having this conversation about STEM education during my first month here and discovering over and over that true STEM ed is mostly only happening in ways that are self-selected by students and parents. Because curricula standards still point mostly at Science and Math, and because those are usually taught as separate subjects, there isn’t very much interdisciplinary STEM for all students. While some great schools offer electives in computer programing or in engineering and production or even Pre-engineering Programs,  most are addressing students’ interests in science, technology, engineering, and math through after-school clubs or other out-of-school opportunities. I figured that if Modular Robotics is going to be in the business of trying to re-shape how STEM can be hands-on, fun, and interdisciplinary in school, I wanted to see examples of what students can do when given that opportunity and some resources and support. As it turns out, they can do a LOT. Some students were apprenticed to college laboratories, and others developed research or engineered and tested new products on their own. Some worked alone and others in teams. I was assigned to judge engineering projects but saw projects as diverse as using Chitosan (ground up shrimp tails!) to create scaffolds for new human tissue to grow on to using algae to produce fuel to cryogenic cooling mechanisms to to biometric gun safety handles to potato cannons and water balloon launchers. sciencefaircollage Engineering is a broad category, it seems, and in any case where a student made something new or tested the feasibility of producing a new mechanism, they were considered an “E” project. Time and again, I saw that the best projects, regardless of mentoring or group vs. individual research, were the ones where students had to look beyond one academic discipline – potato cannons require knowledge of physics and chemistry, and while building tissue scaffolds is engineering, it’s also biology. Some of the best projects I saw combined biology or behavioral science with electrical or product engineering. Those students thought clearly about the next steps and potential applications of their research and many had to teach themselves to use Arduino or to program in Python in order to make the leap from concept to producing a working something. As I asked students questions about their designs and tests, I heard many stories of iterative attempts to make a breadboard circuit do their bidding or last-minute trip to Home Depot to get a part they hadn’t anticipated but suddenly realized they needed. After my day at the fair, as I told stories of algae fuel and biometric firearm safeties or chairs outfitted with a design allowing students to lean back and not fall over, a paraphrase of a response I heard more than a couple of times was, “Hmm, privileged kids/schools have lots of resources to do this.” It’s true – Boulder Valley School district probably offers more resources and support for these STEM-focused students than most public schools in the land. But, for me, the story was, Look what students CAN do when given the opportunity to aim bigger than the assignment for this week or what’s been whittled down into this chapter. See what self-direction and initiative and resources and support can produce – clever engineering that is relevant in today’s world and projects that succeeded precisely because they had little regard for which discipline they belonged to but, instead, voraciously pursued the best methods and answers to their questions and challenges. To me this is the hopeful story about STEM – it doesn’t have to be divided into its components in order for learning to take place. (In fact, that division is probably an invention of perceived necessity in order to define what is testable; kids care about it not at all.)  But my day at the fair was also an optimistic realization about students – they are  curious about how things work or don’t work, and enthusiastically participate in posing their own solutions. They will dive headlong into their interests, even (and sometimes especially) when it requires research and skills far beyond their experience. It strikes me that seeing what students can do when given access to resources and support and the chance to pose real questions is a better bar to set than matching tests and books up to a list of the minimum objectives, but that’s the subject for another blog post. For now, I’m just honored to have seen some really cool science, and to have met with kids and teachers that believe this kind of student work is not only feasible, but deeply worthwhile.
Here’s a question I’ve been asked a few times since joining Modular Robotics just two weeks ago: Scott (our Director of Supply Chain) walked up to my desk and said, “So, when you tell people about your new job, what do you tell them? What’s your title?” “I say, ‘I’m the Educational Program Manager at Modular Robotics,’ . . . and then the tail end of that sentence is always, ‘And it’s the best job I’ve ever had. ‘ “ I’ve never been terribly attached to titles, but this one is exciting because it lets me explore the everyday of what kids need and teachers and schools and other learning outlets want while thinking beyond the here-and-now to what education should do. By joining Modular Robotics, it’s not just a new job for me (hooray!) where I am inspired to work with people who in equal measure represent intelligence and creativity and fun (even better!). It also marks a new journey for this company (the coolest part yet). It’s no secret that this company is growing and changing fast. It’s exciting to be part of this phase of a cool start-up as it goes from infancy to adolescence with more potential on the horizon. And, as a place that makes and produces something, much of that growth and change has been about how to produce more, how to create systems so that Cubelets are produced efficiently and with quality, and how to do it responsibly. Hiring me doesn’t make more Cubelets or change how fast Cubelet kits can be produced. It’s altogether different to add an educator to the team because my job is to figure out how to connect our product with educational settings and needs. Except, the more we talk about it, that’s maybe what I’ll produce – educational uses for Cubelets delivered in the form of an educational network (locally as well as nationally), teachers and educators who want to use Cubelets with their students and great curricula to do so, and opportunities for us to use Cubelets in other learning venues. But perhaps the more profound activity for this desk is to craft a plan that goes beyond providing teachers and students with something they know they need and presents compelling reasons to do things that aren’t currently being addressed or asked for. I’d like to drive change in education by giving students and teachers hands-on opportunities to see how that can be done. All of this is to say, I’m fired up by the blank page and what we can put on it by diving into education in all its forms – museums, camps and after-school settings, and schools and classrooms. Conventional wisdom says that toys are for playing, and classrooms are for “important” learning. I have a background in the why, the how, and the pressing need for making sure that students have good foundational or “basic” skills. In my past working history I’ve said to parents more times than I can count,”Sometimes your child is just going to have to do the work of practicing ___ over and over until it’s automatic and easy for them.” And I believe that, not just because but because I’ve seen the frustration that arises when a bright student understands Algebra but makes a simple calculation error. On the flip side, I’ve seen the results when a so-called struggling student masters basic math facts or sight words and suddenly finds an entry point to grasp bigger ideas and concepts. That’s the moment they realize they aren’t a struggling student anymore, and usually others around them do too! All that said, I also am convinced that when students don’t see the value of their education, they won’t invest themselves in it. They won’t take ownership or find a passion for something that carries them through the rough class in college or the teacher they didn’t like as well in high school or the problem they weren’t able to tackle on the first try. In order to make students that energetic about the work they do to learn, it can’t just be skills and tests, and it’s not enough to merely tolerate their participation in their learning or to give them infrequent chances to make their ideas real. It’s critical to promote opportunities for students to apply what they know, to pose their own questions and then have the means to test their ideas and answers, to tackle an idea by crawling all over topic and discipline boundaries. I’ve yet to meet a student that doesn’t respond positively to getting their hands on things and DOING – it is key in powerfully demonstrating what education is FOR to the very ones we’re trying to educate. Put another way: Make it fun. Make it initially simple and a low barrier to get started without taking away any of the complicated questions or possibilities that might come up later. Make it as open ended and student-driven as possible. Make it fun for adults to get in on so that he grown-ups and students can work together comfortably. Make it connect back to a skill or tool they gained in a class, but that isn’t limited to that unit, that chapter, that class. Make the ideas encapsulated enough for kids to get started right away but big enough to capture their interest for longer than a 42 minute class period. I’m deeply persuaded this kind of learning works because I was fortunate enough to get an education like this for four of the 22 years of my formal schooling. I also know this kind of learning presents challenges because it requires a lot of attention per student, a lot of resources, and a lot of cool opportunities. But realistically, when education isn’t delivered well, that’s a lot of resources wasted; so, I’d rather do it right, even if it’s harder. Well, hey, I’m working somewhere where it is OK to challenge conventional wisdom. Education must impart foundational smarts, but can’t be reduced to memorizing facts or sitting through classes as a means to an end. If we want kids to believe in their education we must give them the chance to help shape it – let’s start as early as possible by letting children play and learn simultaneously. I can’t think of a better way to do that than with Cubelets nor can I think of a better job than Education Program Manager at Modular Robotics. So, Welcome to Me, but more important than me, welcome to Modular Robotics pressing into the educational landscape and seeing where we fit today, and where we can lead the charge tomorrow. I’m thrilled, amped, and all other manner of enthusiastic about all the outlets for learning and education with Cubelets I’ve dreamed up (and excited to discover more!) to not just do what is being done better, but to show that education should not and must not choose between being innovative and being effective.