I just finished reading another interesting article from Fast Company about transforming American higher education thanks to my friend and co-worker Adam. I thought I’d share a few random thoughts I had afterwards.
Dear Fast Company,
What do I have to pay you to eliminate pagination of your articles? Honestly, as soon as I get done reading the first page I look for the ‘print version’ that’ll display your article in its entirety without ads. I know that’s not what you want so put up more ads I’ll ignore or make me subscribe. I don’t want something in the mail every month; I just want to read your content from my iPad external monitor.
P.S. I’m not alone.
To those who tell me they would like to blog but don’t know what they would write about,
If you read, watch, experience something that you immediately want to tell someone else about, you have a topic to blog about. I’m nerdy so I like computers and write about what shows up on the screen and in the browser. I’m geeky enough to separate what I want to write about between my somewhat-serious professional blog and this Tumblr thing. If I wouldn’t bring it up on a first date or to my boss, it ends up here.
Now to the article– how do I support these web-savvy edupunks?
I have a $50,000 piece of paper tucked away on a bookshelf that doesn’t help me complete 95% of my job requirements. I did what I was supposed to- graduate from high school, go to a respected 4 year college, get a degree, get a job (it’s the formula I was brought up on). Yet, I invest countless hours on the internet watching TED videos, reading blogs like Six Revisions, following 500+ people on Twitter, stalking start-ups like SproutBox and isocket, and ultimately teaching myself more than any institution ever did.
Ultimately, I want to be involved in helping higher education be reformed and redefined. I don’t think about retirement. I aspire to be an inspirational and insightful high school substitute teacher that forces a few students to think differently and thus make a difference in the world.
“I ride the Boston T around and I see these ads for schools, and it bothers me that so much hope is rested on having an education, and yet at the end of the day you end up with $100,000 in debt. What are you paying for? And is this the best way of setting up the system?”
I think the same thing every time I ride the ‘L’ in Chicago. How does this affect my brother’s educational process? How will this affect my little sisters’ college endeavors? How does this affect my friends who are or will be attending graduate school? Will my kids laugh at or respect my decision to go to college?
Are the rules changing? Can I be a part of it? Again, how do I support these web-savvy edupunks?
Max Beatty 