Here I am in another city, in yet one more Starbucks. As I begin this entry (and, now, finish it off), I’m in the Westwood neighborhood of Los Angeles, right near the UCLA campus.

Why am I here in LaLa Land? Well, to participate in a training session for a select group of California Community College administrators. This event began on Sunday morning and goes until Thursday (tomorrow) afternoon. It is long (endless, actually) and very intense.

And, yesterday, just for a little extra local flavor, we were treated to a 5.4 earthquake. The campus building I was in swayed for several seconds. Great state, this California. During the quake, I quickly started packing up my computer. The guy sitting next to me (a native Californian) calmly pulled his laptop out of his backpack and called up the USGS site to find out the magnitude.

But, I digress.

Regarding this training: leave it to a bunch of educators to come up with an educational experience that absolutely ignores everything we know, or think we do, about teaching and learning.

We have 72 participants, coming from all around the state, and we all are confined to one large classroom here at the UCLA Conference Center, all day, every day. Our “training” consists of one mind-numbing PowerPoint presentation after another. (I call it Slow, Painful Death by PowerPoint.) It would seem that the organizers of this event actually believe that total information saturation leads to learning. So far, this has been, more or less, one massive data dump … which has left me dazed, confused, aghast … and, mostly, just plain fatigued.

What are these people thinking?!

Some of our presenters have been more interesting than others, of course. A couple of them have even been rather insightful and/or entertaining. However, the philosophy of the program seems to be to throw as much minute detail at the group as possible: and to call that “education.”

We’re all staying in the dorms here at UCLA. What fun. The days start at 8:00 a.m. with a half-hour set aside for small groups (we’re divided up into twelve groups of six for that half-hour) to report out on our “ah-ha moments” from the day before. Mostly, all we can come up with are simple regurgitations of small pieces of information presented the preceding day. (During which time other participants tend to ignore the speaker and talk amongst themselves. Very adult.)

Actually, what else is there can we do (other than mere summaries)? When information is coming at you (us) a zillion miles an hour, there is no time for processing or reflection. Where is the opportunity for learning, assimilation or an “ah-ha”?

HA!

And, then, to compound this weirdness, there is the expectation that each participant will complete a “scrapbook page” about our experience. We have construction paper and colored pens and other kindergarten-type tools to assist us with this project. What the heck is this about?!

I have some questions for my curriculum-developing colleagues. What ever happened to our focus on learning? Where did our attention to process (not just content) go? How about group discussion and collaboration? (Even though some presenters have attempted to engage everyone, a “small-group discussion” or a meaningful “dialogue” is just not gonna happen with 72 students in the room.) What about this experience could possibly foster critical thinking? And, dear ones, what happened to student learning outcomes (SLOs)?

As you may or may not be aware, SLOs are a huge deal in the community college world (as accrediting bodies are increasingly insisting we have clearly defined outcomes to shoot for at the course, program and institutional levels). In terms of course outcomes, we are obligated to explicitly state what students will come away with: what they will know or be able to do as a result of a particular classroom experience.

Learning outcomes were apparently completely ignored in the development of this training. Totally and utterly. And, honest to god, I don’t know what the goals or objectives are, either. We never even used that kind of language in terms of defining what it is we’re doing here. We have paid our money, shown up, and been put in a dark room for several hours a day while they perform a data dump.

I say again: this ain’t education.

And, if I had it to do it all over again, believe me: I’d pass.