I’m not going to spend a lot of time on a self-indulgent post about why I left Blogger and came to WordPress, why I decided to pay for web hosting, and what I’ve learned about blogging, web design, web hosting services, and slowly and deliberately building a digital footprint. Because you don’t care about that stuff! And if I were you, I wouldn’t care about it either. (Unless, like me, you spent months wringing your hands over how to transition to a web hosting service, which service to use, and what services to pay for. In that case, I suggest you do what I did: ask your Personal Learning Network. If they’re anything like mine, they’ll come through for you.)
I do want to briefly explain why the transition included a name change for my blog. I want to explain why sleeping alone and starting out early is now making edible playdough is hegemonic.
When I started blogging about a year and a half ago, I was a serious and driven little guy. I was also just starting to find my footing as a writer and academic, and the blog that emerged during those early months was a product of my early efforts to name and claim my role in the world. The name sleeping alone and starting out early comes from a poem I had written that focused on both the anxiety and the solace of solitude.
The anxiety and solace of solitude were other aspects of what I’ve been working through. The notion of sleeping alone and starting out early was an ethos, an approach to life that privileged rigor and routine over community and discourse and friendship and love. I no longer believe that sleeping alone and starting out early is the best strategy for making sense of one’s life, and it’s certainly no longer my only strategy for making sense of my life. The title that described me so perfectly a year and a half ago simply no longer applies.
As for the new title: It comes from a post that marked a turning point in my thinking about equity, education, and educational research. It’s also a fun assertion to make, and by the way pretty typical of the types of assertions I tend to make in my everyday social and academic interactions. Others may say: Aren’t there potential downsides to teaching science through the making of edible playdough? Or I find this approach to science education somewhat problematic. Who has two thumbs and resists making bold, sweeping stances on complex social issues? Not this guy!