Counting What Counts

lightbulbI am an eager learner, critical thinker, and sensitive communicator with a fervent desire to do work that matters. I believe in the value of inter-disciplinary collaboration for building, remixing, and extending theory, and constructing comprehensive, practical responses to multi-faceted, real world challenges. My methods are mixed, my style is collegial, and my aim is to support youths’ development.

How I got here is an easy story to tell. My loving parents, both caregivers by profession (dentist father, social worker-turned-housewife-turned-social worker mother), raised my two siblings and me in a town populated by “have’s.” While there were and still are richer folks financially, few have access to our community’s social capital – at least, that’s what both Reverend Jesse Jackson and then-President Bill Clinton said during their separate visits to my high school during my senior year. Later, as a college freshman enrolled in a sociology course entitled “Social Inequality: Race, Class, and Power,” I read Jonathan Kozol’s landmark book Savage Inequalities (1991), which pitted the privileges enjoyed by students in my town against the deprivations endured by students in East St. Louis, where schools couldn’t afford toilet paper. This made an impression. So too did my realization that, beyond creature comforts and access to power, I was given emotionally responsive contexts, both at home and at school, in which to grow safely and love freely. I became a Social Policy major because I knew such gifts were not my right, I was just born lucky; or perhaps such gifts are everyone’s right, and “luck” should be taken out of the equation.

For the past 10+ years, I have designed, delivered, and assessed curricula to support youths’ learning; importantly, these curricula facilitate not just cognitive development, but social and emotional development as well. With the support of my polymathic advisor, Dr. Henry Jenkins, and diverse university institutions — e.g., USC Joint Educational Project, USC Institute for Multimedia Literacy, USC Annenberg Innovation Lab, USC Shoah Foundation, and USC Impact Games — my interdisciplinary, community-focused work has been applied to educational settings in Los Angeles and around the world. My specific research interests include:

  • Empathy and social and emotional learning;
  • Interactive, inquiry-driven pedagogy and assessment (e.g., connected learning, participatory learning, experiential learning, participatory action research);
  • Productive problem-solving across no-tech, low-tech, and high-tech contexts (e.g., media literacy, new media literacies, digital citizenship); and
  • Powerful play (e.g., impact games, experimentation and improvisation for discovery).

Because I care about both maximizing the effectiveness of educational interventions and richly understanding program-related change, assessment is incredibly important to me. Twenty-first century skills, which I have identified in my publications as new media literacies (NMLs) plus social and emotional learning skills (SELs), are what I have sought to theorize, teach, and assess (see Felt & Rideau, 2012; Felt, Vartabedian, Literat, & Mehta, 2012; Vartabedian & Felt, 2012). Recently, I adapted the NMLs from a list of 12 discrete skills to a list of 6 paired skills, and then identified which NML pair plus two SELs collectively represent a characteristic of digital citizenship (see www.laurelfelt.org/skill-composites). The programs I have co-designed and evaluated (e.g., Sunukaddu 2.0, Explore Locally Excel Digitally, Summer Sandbox, PLAYing Outside the Box) outreach to educators and students via professional development and developmentally-appropriate curricula, respectively, and utilize both participatory learning strategies and media-making to enhance 21st century skill proficiency.
I always use mixed methods to study impacts, including pre-mid-post surveys, ethnographic field notes, interviews or focus groups, and analysis of participants’ works.

But for the past two years, I also have expanded my assessment toolkit in order to recognize traditionally overlooked data, which my co-authors and I have termed “cultural beacons” (CBs). CBs are culturally-embedded, user-defined measures for understanding communicative meaning(s), components, and sites of change; they illuminate (as beacons do) unique features of people and places (Felt, Dura, & Singhal, in press; Dura, Felt, & Singhal, 2012). Detecting CBs requires researchers’ sensitive listening and informed observation, made possible through respectful community partnerships and participatory methodologies. Accordingly, I embraced participatory action research with the PLAY! project, and am using this approach for conceptualizing my dissertation, “A Face is Worth a Thousand Words: Using Badges to Train Teachers in Non-verbal Sensitivity and Improvisation.” This dissertation investigates if/how training novice teachers in non-verbal sensitivity and improvisation impacts both the proliferation and management of “teachable moments” — critical points when students are poised to meaningfully learn because they perceive a connection between their studies and their lives. Crucially, this teacher training will be administered online via an original curriculum that uses digital badges to impact social and subjective norms, support community-building, and celebrate the journey.

In terms of my career, I am committed to keeping my mind and options open, for life (I hope!) is long and the world is ever changing. Because I love teaching and conducting research to enrich educational programs, I could remain in academia. I also could continue to provide consulting services for organizations domestic and foreign, based in the West, Far East, and Global South, who register as non-profit, for-profit, and governmental. To 20+ organizations over the years, I have delivered: curriculum and assessment development; training and professional development; program evaluation; media literacy for children and families; children’s media research; and impact game consulting. As long as we care to better support our children’s healthy development and expand their opportunities, there will be work for me to do, and I will want to do it.

Love, Josephine-style

To honor Valentine’s Day and again trot out one of my most beloved essays from ye olde blogge of yore, I share this inspirational and TRUE story…

What Would Josephine Do?

(originally published online 10/01/07)

Josephine was one big dating “don’t.”

She pushed too hard. She clung too tight. She regularly chewed her anus.

Josephine was a bitch – literally. 100% female dog.

If you don’t count the carnival fish or science class hermit crabs, Josephine was my only pet, the lone animal to capture my heart. Worms captured her heart, but that’s another story.

When it comes to matters of the heart, Josephine actually had a lot to teach. I didn’t appreciate this at the time, but now that I’m older and infinitely wiser, I can see Josephine for what she really was:

A love goddess.

It’s true. Don’t be fooled by the fact that she used to snarf her own turds – nothing more than a crafty ruse to throw us off-track.

Clever girl.

Josephine educated by example, both negative and positive.

NEGATIVE: Josephine used to bully us into giving up physical affection. She’d whine. She’d squeal. She’d bash me with her head, applying snout-as-lever force in order to send my hand arcing through the air and landing limply atop her head. Oh, how I’d dread her approach. Oh, how I’d bruise like a peach.

What’s the lesson in all of this? First, keep your elbows above muzzle level and always protect your extremities. Second, violence is no way to win love.

Today, when I find myself yearning for creature comfort (and know a non-blood relation who might consider giving it), Josephine’s teachings form the cornerstone of my strategy. I sideline my “grabby snout.” I put myself in my (hypothetical) boyfriend’s shoes by reflecting on what I would have appreciated: A reasonably worded rubdown request; a few upfront tit-for-tat pats. If Josephine had treated me with respect, I would’ve happily scratched behind her ears, and felt like a sweetheart instead of a servant.

POSITIVE: Josephine’s loyalty was limitless. True, her protective instincts could err on the side of excess. For example, there was the time that Josephine scared the neighbor’s dog so profoundly, it channeled its agitation by popping one of its eyeballs from the socket. The eyeball dangled free for a couple of hours, but that’s not the point.

The point is, if you look past that unfortunate incident, you’ll glimpse a lifetime of steadfast devotion.

Here’s the lesson: Get your crew’s back and show ‘em some love. In this era of multi-tasking and compartmentalizing, time and love are increasingly rare. Basic supply and demand, my friends —being rare makes them valuable. So don’t skip out on the socializing or skimp on the sentiment. Josephine never did.

During her later years, arthritis in her hips made stair-climbing difficult. Dad built her a ramp, complete with carpet squares and wooden braces. During her later years, incontinence made bladder control impossible. Dad built her a dog house, complete with supplementary space heater. Josephine never used the ramp, though, and she never ventured into the dog house. Why?

“Because she was dumb” would’ve been my answer several years ago. But now that I’ve uncovered Josephine’s love goddess identity, I’ve changed my tune. Maybe she rejected the ramp because she was eager to accompany us and the ramp would’ve slowed her down. Maybe she bypassed the dog house because she wanted to watch us and the dog house would’ve limited her vision.

Or maybe she was dumb.

Regardless, the lesson we can derive is still a valuable one: Love your loved ones, and then love ‘em some more.

It’s been five years since Josephine died. Gone are the fur clumps that used to choke the staircase cracks. Gone are the neon yellow stains she leaked onto my carpet and my carpet alone.

But the heart’s a funny thing. Every time I walk through my parents’ door, I still brace myself for Josephine, inwardly cringing as I anticipate her full-on knee-rush, paint-peeling breath blast, room-clearing fart gas…

For nothing. Because Josephine is gone.

So I hang up my jacket in the vacuum of eerie silence, breathe in the scent of antiseptic cleanliness, and am always, unaccountably, disappointed.

Now I’m on my own, looking for love in this brave new world. As I negotiate the perils of online and face-to-freak dating— trashing misspelled come-ons from middle-aged foreigners, meeting up with bleary-eyed belchers for a cup of 7-11 Big Brew—I find I’m at a loss. How should I act?, I wonder. What should I do?

That’s when I intone my trusty mantra: WWJD, What Would Josephine Do? And I act according to her enlightened example.

So maybe I am still “single” and without a “prospect” between “here” and “Kingdom Come.” But I swear, it’s not because of interpersonal incompetence. Thanks to the love goddess, my dating deeds are not one big “don’t.”

And someday, they’ll end in “I do.”

Ruth

Ruth Feldman, circa 1922


On May 27, 2012, my family celebrated the 90th birthday of the one and only Ruth Feldman Marcus, aka Gramma. My mom and uncle — Ruth’s two children — set this simcha at Max and Benny’s Deli in Northbrook, IL.

The invitation to this party nodded to Ruth’s past, proclaiming, “you can take the girl out of the deli but you can’t take the deli out of the girl.” Ruth’s mother and brother, Sarah Rich Feldman and Maury Feldman, had co-owned and operated a Jewish deli on Chicago’s West Side during Ruth’s teen years. Ruth’s college dreams were denied when Sarah broke her wrist and needed Ruth to fill in for her, slicing cold cuts and carrying trays, among other things. Here at this family deli, Ruth’s future husband (and my grandfather) Ray Marcus took a shine to the cute blonde waitress and endearingly chose to eat far more meals there than strictly necessary.

My uncle Dick welcomed the group of approximately 50 family members and friends, explaining the significance of delis to our family.

Rick Felt, Ruth Marcus, Dick Marcus

Ruth Marcus, Dick Marcus, Barbara Marcus Felt

Later, Uncle Dick revealed his wonderfully creative, hilarious, participatory party game. What if contemporary folks, ignorant of Jewish customs, wandered into an old school Jewish deli? And what if they all spoke Yiddish? (By the way, Uncle Dick’s premise isn’t as random as it may sound; see Michael Chabon’s The Yiddish Policemen’s Union.)

The following three videos feature Uncle Dick’s funny and articulate explanation of the concept. Because my brother recorded the speech on his cell phone, the image resolution is poor but the audio quality is good. He broke the footage up into three segments in order to make each file small enough to send. The beginning of each film includes the end of the last, just to provide context and ensure that no part of the talk was accidentally lopped off.

Dick and Delis: Part 1

Dick and Delis: Part 2

Dick and Delis: Part 3

While the crowd laughed at the prospect of performing (and Uncle Dick’s improbable math), 11 brave, corned beef-sated family members later accepted Uncle Dick’s scripts and embodied the roles of meshuggeneh customers and exasperated servers, first in Yiddish and then in English.

Ashley and me

CUSTOMER 1 – YIDDISH

Customer: Vilt du zine azay goot oz tsu helfin mir?

Waitress (Waiter): Yeh. Vous vilst due?

Customer: Ich vill habn ah sendvich fun pastrami.

Waitress: Mit rye broit?

Customer: No. Mit veisse broit.

Waitress: Veisse? Feh!

CUSTOMER 1 – ENGLISH

Customer: Will you be so good as to help me?

Waitress (Waiter): Yes. What do you want?

Customer: I will have a pastrami sandwich.

Waitress: With rye bread?

Customer: No. With white bread.

Waitress: White?! Feh!

Dick Marcus, Kenneth Marcus, Ina Goldberg

CUSTOMER 2 – YIDDISH

Waitress:            Ken ich helfin der?

Customer:             Ich vill habn ah sendvich fun pecklfleisch mit rye broit.

Waitress:            Rye broit.  Zeier goot.

Customer:            Und mit a shmeer mayonnaise.

Waitress:            Feh!

CUSTOMER 2 – ENGLISH

Waitress:            Can I help you?

Customer:             I will have a corned beef sandwich on rye bread.

Waitress:            Rye bread.  Very good.

Customer:            And a shmear of mayonnaise.

Waitress:            Feh!

Bev Copeland and Bryan Savitsky

CUSTOMER 3 – YIDDISH

Waitress:            Ken ich helfin der?

Customer:             Yeh, danken.  Ich vill habn ah hot dog, mit pomidor und pickle.

Waitress:            Mmm! Geshmak.

Customer:            Und mit ketchup.

 Waitress:            Feh!

CUSTOMER 3 – ENGLISH

Waitress:            Can I help you?

Customer:             Yes, thanks.  I will have a hot dog with tomato and pickle.

Waitress:            Mmm! Delicious.

Customer:            And with ketchup.

 Waitress:            Feh!

Doug Hoffman and Benjy Felt

CUSTOMER 4 – YIDDISH

Waitress:            Arain!  Zetz zach ah nitter.  Ken ich helfin der?

Customer:            Yeh.  Nemn a salami sendvich.

Waitress:            Hart oder zachtig?

Customer:            Hart.

Waitress:            Broit?

Customer:            Tsibbleh bulke.

Waitress:            Zeier goot.

Customer:            Und a slice Swiss cheese.

 Waitress:            Vous?!  Salami mit cheese?!  Feh!  Bist meshugah?  Milchik  un fleishik?!   Nit gedacht!  Feh!

CUSTOMER 4 – ENGLISH

Waitress:            Come in!  Sit down here.  Can I help you?

Customer:            Yes.  I’ll take a salami sandwich.

Waitress:            Hard or soft?

Customer:            Hard.

Waitress:            Bread?

Customer:            Onion roll.

Waitress:            Very good.

Customer:            And a slice of Swiss cheese.

Waitress:            What?!  Salami with cheese?!  Feh!  Are you crazy?  Dairy and meat?!   God forbid!  Feh!

Leanne Marcus, Sarah Felt, and Someone

CUSTOMER 5 – YIDDISH

Waitress1:             Ken ich helfin der?

Customer:            Ich vill haben a BLT.

Waitress1 (aside to Waitress2):            Vos a BLT?

Waitress2:            A sendvich.

Waitress1:            Und vos iz in dos sendvich?

Waitress2:            Pomidor, salat, und, ummm, bacon.

Waitress1:            Vos iz dus bacon?

Waitress2:             Bacon iz…. well bacon iz….

Waitress1:            Bacon iz vos?

Waitress2:             Well, uh, well bacon seh kumpt foon ah chahzer

Waitress1:            FOON AH CHAHZER!  Feh!

Waitress1 to Customer:            Gai avek! Gai! Gai!  Gai tsu Howard Johnson far chahzerfleisch!  Meshiggoner!

CUSTOMER 5 – ENGLISH

Waitress1:             Can I help you?

Customer:            I will have a BLT.

Waitress1 (aside to Waitress2):            What is a BLT?

Waitress2:            A sandwich.

Waitress1:            And what is in this sandwich?

Waitress2:            Tomato, lettuce, and, ummm, bacon.

Waitress1:            What is bacon?

Waitress2:             Bacon is…. well bacon is….

Waitress1:            Bacon is what?

Waitress2:             Well, uh, well bacon comes from a pig.

Waitress1:            FROM A PIG!  Feh!

Waitress1 to Customer:            Go away! Go! Go!  You go to Howard Johnson for pig meat!  Crazy person!

 

Needless to say, a great time was had by all!

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.
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My gramma and I have always been close. I had the good fortune of staying nearby for college, so during those years Gramma and I got even closer. I wrote my first column for The Daily Northwestern about a particularly memorable experience together.

Since graduating from college 10.5 years ago, I’ve only lived near Gramma (and the rest of my immediate family) for 2.5 of them. Boston was a lean time, family-wise, but luckily Gramma’s niece Helena Feldman Erlich and her daughter and her daughters live in the Los Angeles area. This means that, even though I’m far away from the heartland, I’m not without my family. We all gathered together last Saturday to celebrate the last night of Hanukkah, and Helena insisted that I share this video with Gramma. You were with us in spirit, Gramma!

Erlich Hanukkah 2012

Mike and I also threw a Hanukkah party, complete with high-stakes dreidel.

And I wrangled two rounds of latke-making, clad in a fabulously garish dreidel apron. As I jokingly explained to Gramma the next day, a 12-year-old girl does not truly come of age at her Bat Mitzvah — she joins the ranks of Jewish womanhood when she cooks up her first batch of latkes. :)

See you in March, Gramma! I love you!

The Day Has Come

Yom Kippur begins tonight at sundown. This means that, for Jews, it’s time for us to reflect on our lives over the past year and, hopefully, wipe the slate clean and start fresh.

Three years ago, I found this poem/self-reflection tool that so eloquently invites us to think/act towards enriching ourselves and our lives. I share it because I care.

——————-

The day has come
To take an accounting of my life.

Have I dreamed of late
Of the person I want to be,
Of the changes I would make
In my daily habits,
In the way I am with others,
In the friendship I show companions,
Woman friends, man friends, my partner,
In the regard I show my father and mother,
Who brought me out of childhood?

I have remained enchained too often to less than what I am.
But the day has come to take an accounting of my life.

Have I renewed of late
My vision of the world I want to live in,
Of the changes I would make
In the way my friends are with each other
In the way we find out whom we love
The way we grow to educated people
The way in which the many kinds of needy people
Grope their way to justice?

I, who am my own kind of needy person, have been afraid of visions.
But the day has come to take accounting of my life.

Have I faced up of late
To the needs I really have –
Not for the comforts which shelter my unsureness
Not for honors which paper over my (really tawdry) self,
Not for handsome beauty in which my weakness masquerades,
Not for unattractiveness in which my strengths hide out –

I need to be loved.
Do I deserve to be?
I need to love another.
Can I commit my love?
Perhaps its object will be less than my visions
(And then I would be less)
Perhaps I am not brave enough
To find new vision
Through a real and breathing person.

I need to come in touch with my own power,
Not with titles,
Not possessions, money, high praise,
But with the power that it is mine
As a child of the Power that is the universe
To be a comfort, a source of honor,
Handsome and beautiful from the moment I awoke this morning
So strong
That I can risk the love of someone else
So sure
That I can risk to change the world
And know that even if it all comes crashing down
I shall survive it all—
Saddened a bit, shaken perhaps,
Not unvisited by tears
But my dreams shall not crash down
My visions not go glimmering.
So long as I have breath
I know I have the strength
To transform what I can be
To what I am.

The day has come
To take an accounting of my life.

Levy, R.D. (Ed.) (1985). On Wings of Awe: A Machzor for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Hillel Foundations. pp. 104-106.

Branches

Still composing this post about my second cousin once removed, Beverly (Bev) Levin Copeland, and the extraordinary work she’s done to honor family. For now, the least I can do is share these resources and praise Bev to the stars. Bravo, Bev, and thank you.

The Erin Copeland Book Project, a charitable effort established by Bev and Shelly Copeland in honor of their late daughter Erin

An extraordinary history of the Greenman Family (Bev’s mother’s ancestors) from nineteenth century Russia to 2001

Interview with Bev’s father (my Grandpa Ray’s first cousin), Max Levin

Interview with Bev’s aunt (my Grandpa Ray’s first cousin), Bea

When I was in LA we visited the Los Angeles Holocaust Museum, the first Holocaust museum built in the U.S. As part of an exhibit they were playing this recording, which I found amazingly powerful and beautiful……. Paul Robeson singing in Yiddish