The following five posts relate stories about a recent motorcycle trip I took with two of my riding buddies. The trip was from San Antonio, TX to the mountains of northern New Mexico and southern Colorado.

The posts appear in reverse chronological order.

The sunrise on day 5 meant that our time in the mountains was ending and the long road home to San Antonio was about to unroll.

We’d watched the weather forecasts Wednesday night and saw that rain was threatening around Odessa, our next overnight stop. Thursday dawned clear and bright in Santa Fe. We loaded up, gassed up and headed out.

The road out of Santa Fe saw the mountains recede in our mirrors as we descended from elevation down onto the New Mexico plains. The winds that had so plagued us on Monday were quiet on Thursday and we were grateful for that. I used to the calm riding conditions to deal with the beginning of the end of the trip by remembering the roads I’d ridden in the past few days and recalling the sights I’d seen.

The road rolled out in front of us on the way to Odessa and we stopped in Roswell for a lunch break and to fill up. We entered Texas just outside Plains and rolled on. Thursday night in Odessa found us watching the weather forecasts for our route back to San Antonio the next day and we were alternately happy or anxious depending on the predictions for rain in the area.

Day 6 dawned in Odessa with an overcast sky but no rain. We drank our morning coffee and watched the forecasts again and were relatively reassured by what we heard. We knew it was pouring in and around San Antonio but the showers should be long gone by the time we rolled in. We loaded up, gassed up and headed south toward I-10 through the Permian Basin. The horizon to horizon view of pump jacks slowly gave way to towering windmills and I thought of the symbolism of these two objects in terms of one form of energy transitioned into another; the old giving way to the new.

When we reached I-10 we took advantage of the increased speed limit to make good time toward San Antonio. One of the nice things about my Road King is the electronic cruise control; get up to highway speed, turn on the cruise and set the speed. No constant twisting the throttle to keep the speed up.

We gassed up and lunched in Ozona and kept heading east, stopping once more for gas in Junction as we rolled on to San Antonio enjoying the clear skies and mild sunshine, until…

Until just outside Kerrville we pulled off the road to put on rain gear since as we saw the skies ahead changing from blue to gray to black. Back on the road again we rolled on toward SA. Around Boerne we began to see lightning strikes on the horizon. Just past Boerne Dan peeled off to head home. Ray and I kept on until the Camp Bullis exit where we left the big road. As Ray turned off for his house I stayed on Camp Bullis to Babcock to Loop 1604 West and headed for the Bandera Road exit.

When I rolled up in front of the house, opened my windshield bag, fished out the garage door opener and watched the door rise, I was glad to be home safe and dry. I pulled into the garage, shut off the bike, took off the rain gear and checked my trip meter: 1,980.2 miles door to door. I unstrapped my bags, pulled my house keys out of my pocket, unlocked the door and went in.

Our planned ride for day 4 was a loop through the ski resorts east of Taos. We turned onto Hwy 585 toward the Carson National Forest and the intersection with Hwy 64 to begin the loop through Angel Fire, on to Eagle Nest, then connecting with Hwy 38 for Red River and Questa.

As the road rose up into the mountains thoughts of a conversation from earlier in the week with a high school friend were uppermost in my mind. Charlene told me I should visit the Viet Nam Veterans Memorial park in Angel Fire  while I was in the area. Charlene had married my best friend Gary who served in Viet Nam as a combat engineer in the Quang Tri area near the DMZ. There he was exposed to Agent Orange and a few years after he returned stateside he developed a brain tumor. Nonetheless, he and Charlene wanted a family. She became pregnant and they were blessed with a healthy baby girl. As Gary’s illness worsened, Charlene became pregnant again, this time the child, a boy named Jason was not healthy, and succumbed to the effects of Agent Orange as did his father. Charlene told me the memorial is a powerful place where she feels close to Gary when she visits.

Following the road to and through Angel Fire I saw several signs for the memorial and rounding a bend I spotted a sleek, curving white structure built upon a hill overlooking the valley and the ski slopes beyond. We took the entrance road and pulled in to a nearly empty parking lot. I got out my camera and entered the memorial, taking photos of the Huey helicopter on display, and walking the paths to various areas of the site.

I stopped in front of one area with a plaque and a bronze statue of an American GI typical of the VN era, wearing a flak jacket, kneeling on one knee, his M16 gripped in his left hand as a support more than a weapon. I took a couple of snaps of the figure and the plaque along side it. When I put down the camera and began reading the words inscribed on it, memories, feelings and emotions from another time and place rushed in.

After the first line my eyes began to water. After the second line I couldn’t read any further and I sat down on the rock wall behind me and cried out loud. Uncontrollable sobs, the sound of which brought my two riding buddies over to see what was happening to me.

Plaque at Viet Nam Veteran's Memorial in Angel Fire, NM

Those words I read on the plaque jarred me. I had written similar words in letter home once and the words I read on that plaque brought it all back and it was overpowering. After a minute or so more I was able to gain back enough composure to stand. All I could say was, “What a waste”.

We walked around the site a while longer, I took a few more pictures but I didn’t need to. I don’t believe I’ll ever forget that place and the powerful effect it had on me. Alongside side the path that takes visitors out of the site and into the parking lot is a sign that reads, “Welcome Home”. For so many people of my generation those two words have a special meaning. I hope I can go back and be there and read them again.

We got back on the road and just outside of Eagle Nest we took Hwy 38 through the mountains along another beautifully scenic winding road and took a cigar break at a roadside pullout just past Bobcat Pass and very near Red River. Being on the side of the road on the side of that mountain in that serene setting was such a pleasure. As we got back on the bikes and rode through Red River we could see that there was still some snow left on the ski runs. It was an unbelievably beautiful sight, and Red River such a picturesque spot.

From Red River it was on to Questa then back in to Taos for lunch and a brief stop on the Plaza for the obligatory shopping. After lunch it was back on highways 518, 75, 76 and 503 for the long way to Santa Fe.

Our route today took us north and west out of Taos. First stop was at the Rio Grande Gorge for photos and to admire the awesome gorge carved by the Rio Grande over thousand of years.

Rio Grande Gorge outside of Taos

From there it was back onto Hwy 64 west for a few miles to catch Hwy 285 north into Colorado where, just outside of Antonito, we turned west again onto Hwy 17 and a beautiful ride through the mountains of lower Colorado and the Rio Grande National Forest.

My Road King at Cumbres Pass in southern Colorado

Hwy 17 snakes through the mountains and rises to an elevation 10, 022 feet at the Cumbres Pass. The road conditions were excellent and made for a great ride. The temperature at this elevation was definitely cold as evidenced by the massive amounts of snow still present, not only on the peaks, but coming right down to the edge of the road. We stopped near the pass for photos of us and our bikes against a snow white background. I grew up in North Texas and have seen copious amounts of snow, but nothing on the scale of what I saw today…in mid May no less.

The road down the mountain took us back down to a slightly warmer elevation as we entered Chama, NM, where we stopped for gas and lunch. After lunch we turned east on Hwy 64 for a nice, winding hour long ride back to Taos. Hwy 64 is an east-west road that bisects northern New Mexico and is a very good road to ride since much of it winds through various national forests. I would like to come back and ride the length of this road in addition to the many other roads I didn’t get to ride this trip.

The day dawned clear and bright in Clovis with a hint of wind in town. As we headed north out of town, the wind began in earnest and blew…and blew…and blew. Sustained winds blowing across the flat landscape at 45-55 mph with gusts up to 60 (think tropical storm force gales) pushing the pungent aroma of commercial dairy farms across the New Mexico plains at high speed.

I’ve ridden in wind before but nothing like what I experienced today. Unrelenting cross and head winds that lasted all the way from Clovis to Las Vegas, NM. Part of our ride route was the 24 miles from San Jon to Tucumcari on historical HWY 66…into a strong headwind all the way. Gas mileage was severely diminished.

As the road began to climb between Tucumcari and Las Vegas the wind brought some new friends with it; a bit of chill and a lot of sand. At least there were no bugs to clutter the windshield; they either stayed home or were sucked into the super cell that created the tornadoes in Oklahoma and Kansas and made our ride, if not  pleasant, totally unforgettable . After a long ride in the wind  we made it to Las Vegas and took a break at the Hillcrest diner, where both the food and service were welcomed by the three of us.

Along Highway 518 in the Carson National Forest

After lunch we headed north on HWY 518  into the Carson National Forest. The aroma of thousands of cows was replaced by the scent of Piñon Pine and it was a beautiful ride until we reached Holman; it then became a spectacular ride. The road lined with tall pines climbing and descending through sweeping curves and sharp turns. In the upper elevations I noticed a small, snowmelt stream, which, as we descended, grew wider and flowed faster down the grades. With backlighting from the bright sunlight, the small rapids glistened.

HWY 518 intersected with HWY 68 just south of Taos and there were three tired riders grateful to be out of the wind, but mostly grateful for our first ride through the mountains and the forest.

It was overcast when I rolled my Road King out of the garage at 6:30AM. What I didn’t know then was that the overcast would last all the way from San Antonio to Littlefield, TX, just east of the New Mexico border.

I stopped by RayJ’s house to meet up with him and we headed out to Boerne to meet Gnarly Dan for breakfast. After breakfast tacos, the three of us headed west on I-10 at 8:00 AM with no traffic on the road and made excellent time through the Hill Country to Junction with occasional mist wetting the windshield.

From there it was a northwest course on back roads the rest of the way and the cloud cover kept the sun off us throughout our 484 miles excursion from Boerne to New Mexico. It was light traffic and a good day to ride punctuated by gas and relief stops with a lunch break in a small town Dairy Queen followed by a post-prandial cigar.

By the time we pulled in to Clovis it was eleven and a half hours and 500.8 miles since I rolled out of my garage. A long day, but a good one that took us from the hills of South Central Texas through the farm and ranch land of west Texas and into the diary farms near Clovis.

I watched a piece on the CBS Sunday Morning show today , Decisions, Decisions, that began with:

“Remember the old joke about the psychiatrist who asks his patient if he has trouble making decisions? And the patient says, ‘Well, doctor, yes and no.’”

As the piece progressed on to an interview with writer Jonah Lehrer about the number of decisions people have to make daily, I almost immediately I recalled the Alvin Toffler book Future Shock, and moments later Blink by Malcolm Gladwell when the topic turned to the brain’s ability to process data rationally.

“For a long time people have said that the best way to make a decision is to be rational. And yet, in recent years, scientists have discovered that the rational brain can only take in a few bits of information at any given moment. So, you start giving it too much information and it starts to short-circuit and sputter.”

“Our emotional brain is actually much better at taking in lots and lots of information. Summarizing lots of data very efficiently, and saying, ‘Here’s a feeling. Don’t worry about all the details. Here’s a feeling. We’ve already taken those details into account.’” – Jonah Lehrer

In these two paragraphs Mr. Lehrer crystallizes for us the central messages of both of the aforementioned books; the rational brain’s inability to cope with the amount and speed of incoming data (Future Shock), and the emotional brain’s ability to analyze it and form an opinion on it, as Mr. Gladwell suggests, in the blink of an eye (Blink).

As for me, I’ve made decisions based on instinct as well as on what I perceived to be a reasoned and rational process. How did I do on making good choices? I’ve often gone back and revisited choices I’ve made and thought to myself, “I should have listened to what my intuition was telling me.”

As for you; which has proved the better way to make either mundane or critical decisions? That’s for you to decide.

What follows is an extended account of the memorial service for Thomas H. Greer. It is rather lengthy as blog posts go, but there is a story to tell. For more on Tom’s life use this link to his obituary in the Austin American-Statesman.

On January 18, 2010, the family, friends, friends of family and acquaintances of Thomas Henry Greer, Ph.D., gathered in a service celebrating his life. It was a service unlike any I, or anyone else who was present, have ever experienced. The structure of the service, having been planned by one music teacher in honor of another music teacher, consisted of alternating carefully chosen music selections and narrative and was more like a production than a traditional funeral service.

To set the scene for you, let me begin by describing the atmosphere. The entry and foyer of the funeral home were decorated by displays of objects and photos from Tom’s life.

A table here displayed his Bachelor, Masters and Ph.D. diplomas in the field of music. A table there showed the American Bronze Star and French Croix de Guerre medals he was awarded in WWII, along with their citation documents and photos of the awards ceremonies as the medals were pinned to his uniform jacket. On yet another table his trumpet and performance violin and on other display surfaces the violins he made by hand. Throughout the area were photos from his childhood through adult days; a young boy in west Texas, a soldier, a big-band member, a music teacher, a band leader, a husband and father. And scattered about…boxes of chocolates with a note to please take one or two pieces. Tom was always handing out chocolates to the point that he was dubbed a “human candy dispenser.”

Prior to the service an hour was set aside for a viewing. Those who came during this time saw Tom resplendently arrayed in his tux and tails, a red rose in his lapel, his ebony and ivory conductor’s baton in his crossed hands, the Croix de Guerre medal around his neck. During this time a slide show projecting images from throughout Tom’s life was accompanied by a soundtrack comprised of selections of his many recorded classical violin performances. While many people took this opportunity to bid Tom farewell prior to the service, many more used the hour as a time of fellowship, talking to family members and other of Tom’s friends.

The service began with a favorite hymn of Tom’s, “Shall We Gather At The River”, performed a capella by Vicki M. (I’m excluding last names in this account in an effort to protect the guilty.) Vicki, an accomplished vocalist and voice teacher, is sometimes referred as “Tom’s third daughter” due to her and the Greer family mutually (and informally) adopting each other decades ago. She remains one of my wife’s (Tom’s older daughter, Lindslee) closest friends.

Thereafter, family members spoke in turn about Tom’s life from growing up in rural west Texas to his time as a soldier in World War II; his years as a music educator; and memories of him as a father, uncle, father-in-law, friend. Each in turn imbued the audience with moments of laughter as well as poignancy, often coupled with tears.

Following the hymn, Tom’s nephew John Paul K. gave the eulogy which outlined Tom’s life in general. In this opening segment of the service the first of many stories about Tom were told. Tom, as John Paul said, was a story teller, and he proceeded to relate briefly a story Tom had told him about the time in WWII he and his Army band members parachuted into Germany…and on the wrong side of the lines. John Paul prefaced this story by saying that it was sometimes difficult to distinguish whether a tale told by Tom was a tall one or not. This quip brought resulted in laughter from the audience, which was entirely appropriate since Tom was always a jokester and loved to make people laugh.

The eulogy was followed by a recording of Ave Maria, a song performed often by Tom on violin accompanied by his daughter Lindslee on piano and daughter Dorian, or Vicki, singing.

The next to speak was younger daughter Dorian, who spoke of her memories of Tom the father and husband. Tom, she explained, was a collector of musical instruments, particularly of violins. Tom began collecting musical instruments in Europe during the war years. As she and sister Lindslee were growing up, the Greer home literally had instruments everywhere . Whenever he and wife Betty would go out to flea markets or antique shops, she would steer him away from any place where she saw displayed an abused violin, knowing that Tom would bring it home for revival.  Tom later donated a substantial collection of instruments, some dating back to the Renaissance era, to his alma mater McMurry University in Abilene. In 1975 McMurry named Tom as a distinguished alumnus.

Dorian also talked about Tom the performer. About how he would wrap the cassette recordings of his violin performances with a copy of the program on which he would write detailed notes about how he had played, how the audience reacted, whether he got a standing ovation. To introduce the recording of a violin piece he performed as the music that would follow her, she remarked that  “Daddy would be proud that he was able to perform at his own funeral.”

Following Dorian’s selection of Tom’s music, his granddaughter Danielle was the next to speak and told the audience that she credited Tom with instilling in her a love not just of music and the piano, but also an appreciation of classical jazz. After the war Tom had been a member of one of the “big bands” that toured the country and played jazz music in sold out dance halls. Danielle also spoke of the recent Christmas Eve when her mother Dorian picked up the violin Tom had made for her forty years previously, and played along with Lindslee on the piano. “I played horribly”, Dorian said aloud, and laughter sounded again. As Danielle took her seat another memorable moment of the service occurred, one which elicited another round of appreciative laughter, when the opening words of  her musical selection, the Ginger Rogers recording of “Cheek to Cheek”, began: “Heaven….I’m in Heaven” wafted from the speakers.

His daughter LIndslee spoke next highlighting Tom’s career as a music educator and his influence on her to study the Orff method of music education as a Fulbright scholar at the Mozarteum in Salzburg, Austria. She spoke about the final musical program at her school, ending a 32 year career as a music educator, at which she acknowledged that he was the reason she was there that night in her capacity as a teacher of music. Accompanying her students that night were other students of hers.  Students she had taught years earlier, who were still studying music and had returned to honor her as a teacher. She related that after the program, her former and current students were surrounding Tom and in that instant she saw not only the culmination of a combined 72 years of teaching music, but also the past, present and future of music education. Her musical selection to honor her father was Dan Fogelberg song “Leader of the Band”.

This song provided the segue into the concluding speaker, Tom’s son-in-law Patrick G. Patrick spoked about Tom’s years as an Army band leader during WWII. He talked about the campaigns in which Tom’s unit was involved. He talked about the two major honors Tom received in Europe; the Bronze Star medal and the French Croix de Guerre (War Cross). He read aloud the conditions and requirements for each of the awards and spoke about the other campaign ribbons Tom and his unit earned. At the end Patrick said, “Tom, this is your last roll call. As a veteran I salute you” and Patrick drew himself to attention and rendered the proper military courtesy, a salute. When Patrick was seated, the military honor guard present moved to coffin and waited as “Taps” was played by an Army bugler. Afterward the honor guard removed the American flag from the coffin, folded and presented it to his daughters, and retired to an alcove.

The service was over at this point. Jennifer, the funeral director, came to the front and thanked everyone for attending. She then did something I have never seen before at a funeral; she asked everyone to stand and give Tom a final standing ovation…and everyone did. Afterward she told us that she felt the service was so special and she felt so much of part of it that she didn’t want it to end.

As for me, the other of Tom’s sons-in-law, I had no active role at the service. My part consisted of helping put together the photos and music for it and creating this extended recounting of the service; these are my contribution to the celebration. Had I been among the speakers there are several stories about Tom I could have told but there is one in particular that fits, and that is the story of my meeting Tom for the first time.

In 1996 I was introduced to a wonderful woman named Lindslee on a blind date. At the time she was living in San Antonio and I was living in San Marcos and our second date was there. She asked me on that occasion if on our date I would mind going to her father’s 80th birthday party in Cedar Park, just north of Austin, and I agreed. When we arrived at Tom’s house the party was in full swing. There was a houseful of people with music and spirits, both mortal and liquid, flowing freely. I was directed toward a man holding court amid loyal devotees. He was wearing an Hawaiian print shirt with a Croix de Guerre medal hanging around his neck. A black ponytail peeked out from the back of the red beret atop his head. “This is my  father, Tom Greer”, Lindslee said as I shook his hand. After meeting Tom I was then introduced to relatives on both sides of her family, which seemed to be every one of them alive at the time, and all of whom were in attendance for the occasion.  After meeting person after person after person (after person) and watching Tom play the piano, trumpet and violin and regale the attendees with story after story, I found myself sitting on the curb in front of the house with a cigarette wondering what I had just gotten myself into (I smoked back then and needed one badly after an hour in this melee).

Well, needless to say I was admitted into Clan Greer and a majority of the people in attendance at Tom’s birthday party showed up again in June of 1997 when Lindslee and I were married. I can say truthfully that I have been enriched by being a part of the family and like all the others who have been invited in, have been enriched by knowing Thomas Henry Greer.

Thanksgiving Day, along with Independence Day, are the two days of the year that we, as Americans, celebrate as our holidays. While the Fourth of July is important to us a nation as the day we celebrate its independence, it is Thanksgiving Day, I think uniquely, that is the most American holiday because its celebration predates national independence. It is the day that encourages us as Americans, to reflect on the blessings we have, both as citizens of this nation and as individuals.

Indeed, one of the blessings I count is that I am a citizen of this country; for that I am truly thankful. I am thankful that I had the opportunity, as did so many before me, to serve this country in my small way. I am thankful that those who did serve and those who continue to serve are willing, as citizens, to set aside a part of their lives and dedicate it to that service. And sometimes sacrifice their lives in that service. Willingly.

I am thankful that I was born when I was, grew up when I did, see what I saw, as well as what I see now. I am thankful the days of my life have been spent, not just in this country, but in this state. Texas.

I am thankful for my wife Lindslee who cares about me and loves me in spite of my shortcomings. I am thankful for my son Justin who has grown into an intelligent young man with a family of his own, and for his wife Kathy who accepted him into her life.

This morning when I awoke, before getting out of bed, I reflected on some of these things. When I arose and took the dogs out, I am that I was greeted with a cool, clear, crisp early morning with a beautifully dark sky alight with celestial lights.

I am thankful that Lindslee and I will share our Thanksgiving meal with a friend.  I am thankful that in the last few months I have reconnected with so many people from earlier in my life and I am enriched by being able to communication with them.

Yes, there is a lot for me to give thanks for and by no means have I listed it all here.

As the day unfolds I will continue throughout the day today to find and realize the many, many things for which I can give thanks. After all, isn’t that what today is for?

Terry Moe

Terry Moe began his keynote address at VSS 2009 by highlighting some the bright spots of technology in education, specifically the successes of virtual charter schools and traditional schools that blend virtual learning into the traditional teaching model. After listing the demonstrated student performance gains found in curricula that are partly or wholly virtual, and after a few specific success stories of the schools implementing such models he said, “That is the bright side of technology in education. Now we’ll talk about the dark side.” Star Wars immediately came to mind.

So, thinking about educational technology in a Star Wars world order, we can see the new virtual educational model incorporating rich media, social networking, increased interactivity between online students and teachers as well as students with other students as the Rebel Alliance; the pure of spirit Jedi Knights. Who, then, will we cast as the embodiment of the Galactic Empire, the Dark Side of the Force?

Before we answer that question, let’s consider how reform in education evolves. Someone somewhere has an epiphany. A creative moment in which a thought springs to life proclaiming, “We can take this piece (or pieces of technology), introduce that into the educational system and revolutionize the way children are educated.” In that vision students will get access to courses they would otherwise would not. They will be able to learn in the way they like best to learn, that compliments their “learning style”. Student involvement and performance scores go up. Parents will appreciate the added content their children can access and the demonstrated increase in performance. In this model, If a child is unable to attend class during “regular hours”, no problem. The content is online as is the instructor, who might or might not be in a standard classroom or school in the same city, the same state or even the same country.  Everyone wins, right? Not quite. Not yet.

What if a local district, a state or national legislative body thinks the aforementioned technological vision is great and considers making it The New Way Things Are Done? No one should oppose that, right? Well…

“…well,” you ask, “who could be against anything like that”?  The answer to your query is found here: what group or entity has the most to lose if the status quo is changed? If the current educational model of a teacher standing in front of a room full of students (a model that has been around pretty much unchanged since the 1600’s) changes so that some of, a significant  part of (or all of) what that teacher in the classroom does, who doesn’t benefit? When you realize that politicians listen to special interests, especially those that contribute to reelection campaigns, rather than innovators who don’t, the veil will begin to fall from your eyes.

Who is Darth Vader in this scenario of a revolutionized and transformative educational model?

Who wields the power of Dark Side of the Force, gripping mere mortal politicians in a strangle hold, bending their will to its own?

What group represents the dark side of technology in education?

Teacher unions.

They are the Galactic Empire in this Star Wars treatment of technology in education. (Coincidentally, George Lucas, through his foundation, began Edutopia: What Works in Public Education. The Edutopia web site includes an area dedicated to technology integration in education.)

Special interests in the form of  teacher unions are the top challengers to the realization of technologically advancing education. Technology represents a threat to the status quo of education because computers, when used to access standards-based, interactive content that measures progress and performance and delivers the degree of social online interaction to which today’s student  has become accustomed, can perform many of the roles a teacher would. Moreover, technology is relatively cheap whereas teachers are expensive.

But teacher unions with so many members and so much money, have for the last 30 years had a grip on the politicians they support, particularly in one party. They will oppose any thing, beneficial for the student or not, that threatens their numbers. In order to maintain their power and influence over politicians and the legislative process they are dependent upon maintaining their member numbers. The real threat technology poses for the unions is that technology equipment doesn’t join unions but teachers do. If classroom teachers are replaced by virtual teachers outside the confines of brick and mortar building, the union membership numbers will go down.

“If you are doing something in education that is truly transformative, you will be opposed.“  (Terry Moe)

Because education is inextricably bound to the public sector and because the political process regarding educational reform is so cumbersome in its process, there are many points at which good legislation can be changed significantly by legislators due to pressure from special interest groups opposed to changing The Way Things Are Done. Teacher unions lobby with state legislatures and legislators to weaken, or if possible, kill statewide virtual charter school initiatives. They lobby heavily at the Federal level, too.

The power of technology is seeping into education. The change, slow as it might be, is coming. Today’s students are the most technologically savvy generation in American education history. They are Digital Natives and will bring the technology they want with them. A recent nationwide survey of high school age students shows that 40% of current students say they want online instruction; 1% currently receive it.  School reform organizations are beginning to disassociate themselves from teacher unions because they are beginning to realize that unions are part, a large part, of the problem and are fighting the solutions being proposed. Over time the increase of virtual classrooms will begin to erode the power of teacher organizations. As technology begins to replace classroom teachers, unions will lose members. The grip that these special interests have will  be released. Slowly. And the power of the unions will be decreased.

“Technology will be the single biggest force for school change in history”. (Terry Moe)

He is co-author of the new book, Liberating Learning: Technology, Politics, and the Future of American Education (2009).