After my first podcast chat with Chris Nesi of the House Of Ed Tech, we realized we didn’t touch upon one of my favorite ed tech things: Ed Tech Bridge! We reconnected, this time with my pal and #EdTechBridge co-founder, Steve Isaacs, and had a great conversation about the importance of connecting educators with ed tech companies (and vice versa).
Chris Nesi and I have crossed Twitter paths for quite some time. Given my love for Twitter and proximity to New Jersey, I’ve come to get to know many wonderful NJ educators over the years, both in person and online. Chris was someone I had connected with digitally, but not much more than a few tweets. I was so grateful, then, when he asked me to join him on his awesome podcast, #HouseOfEdTech. What’s more, we got to talk about two of my favorite things: podcasts and education technology!
With the ever-increasing political hubbub filling our ears, news feeds, and TV networks, I wanted to share a podcast from Nate Silver’s FiveThirtyEight blog in the days leading up to the influx of primaries. I’ve been a fan of FiveThirtyEight for several years, and find it to be one of the few trustworthy, sensible sites during the insanity that is Election Season.
Why the Dean Scream Sounded so Different on TV is an excellent, informative, 30-minute podcast about the infamous shriek from the former Vermont governor. Can you hear it reverberating in your ears when you see this gif?
@replyall A kid in CO faced a disciplinary hearing bc he “plagiarized” something that I, a librarian in NYC, “wrote.” (P.S. – I didn’t.)
— Emily Gover (@edtechjam) January 4, 2016
How did this all unfurl? It begins on a cold winter day, many
moons weeks ago. ‘Tis a story of technological quirks that serve as a reminder that even the most powerful of technologies make mistakes.
Welp, I’m sure this comes as no surprise to anyone, but Thursday was a pretty exciting morning for podcast geeks:
Be still, my heart! pic.twitter.com/27yw3bdhV3
— Emily Gover (@edtechjam) December 10, 2015
Serial Season 2 is here! Rejoice, we once again hear Sarah Koenig’s distinctive storytelling voice, the twinkling of the (slightly different) opening tune, and a riveting, mysterious story? Maybe.
As per usual, my impatience got the better of me and I started listening to it at work. You’d think I would have learned by now that Serial is not the kind of podcast that one can really listen to while doing work (or anything that requires any level of focus, really).
Despite listening to it four times now, I still struggled to keep my focus, even for a relatively short 40-minute episode. Not sure if this is due to the lack of a hook, or my subconscious disinterest after learning that the initial conversation didn’t involve Sarah at all, but I felt a little “meh” about it… until, of course, I heard the preview for episode 2.
Given that this story held national attention prior to Serial, I do wonder if there will be preexisting or inherent biases from listeners. Much like Koenig, I too was “a very uneducated consumer of this story,” and I look forward to seeing what they opt to share, and how they will frame it as part of a larger story.
My initial gut reaction is that this story won’t be as satisfying as Season 1, but that this is more of a way to hold listeners over until Season 3 (which, IIRC, was supposed to be Season 2, but after learning about Bowe’s audio tapes, the pushed it back).
P.S. – As a librarian, I loved her reference to Zoom. If you have any little ones on your holiday list, that book is a solid choice.
Sometimes, you hear a prologue on This American Life that reminds you that, as unique as we are as individuals on this pale blue dot, we share many of the same experiences. I suppose that’s the purpose of the show, and they nailed it in the prologue of “Regrets, I’ve Had a Few.”
While listening to it, I couldn’t help but be reminded of the many instances of bickering with my big sister, when she would do all sorts of mean things for no reason, like dump water on my head in the paddling pool, pour sand down my bathing suit, throwing things at one another—yunno, the usual. The prologue tells a similar story, that I think many of us from sibling families can relate to:
A few weeks ago, I was griping about my disappointment with newly minted podcast fans (in thanks to Serial‘s explosive growth) and their lack of continued interest in the story that captivated them for months, mainly when curious developments in Adnan’s case hit the news.
I questioned if this lack of enthusiasm was tied to a dissatisfaction with how the season ended–essentially, people were anticipating a nice, neat conclusion, and Koenig didn’t deliver (understandably so). That said, I sure hope this news will pique their interest:
The New Yorker Radio Hour premiered this week on WNYC. Much to my chagrin, Car Talk has been taken off the air as a result. Personally, I am really bummed I will no longer spend my Saturday mornings listening to Click and Clack chuckle while I catch up on emails, pay bills, and sort my laundry.
That said, I understand why WNYC replaced Car Talk with The New Yorker Radio Hour. In recent years, they have gradually tweaked their weekend schedule to better appeal to a new generation of listeners (or so I imagine). Their first move by moving Jonathan Schwartz to Sunday was a great idea.
While I will miss Car Talk, I wanted to give this new show a listen, to see what could possibly top brotherly banter between Click and Clack. With minimal revisions, here are my initial thoughts on the show, segment by segment.
About a year ago, I was spending my usual Sunday evening winding down listening to This American Life‘s newest episode. At the end, I heard Ira mention in his speedy, rhythmic, nasaly voice that the following week’s episode would also be the debut of TAL‘s first spin-off podcast. Never would I have thought a podcast would become so popular that it could form its own spin-off. Surely it couldn’t stick?
After listening to the first installment of Serial during the following week’s TAL episode, I was hooked. Soon after I was talking about it with my sister, my podcast bestie. Then, Mama G joined our discussions. I was happy my existing podcast pals at work were into it, too.
A few weeks later, I started to noticed some peculiar happenings.
I’ve been meaning to share this for a while, but between traveling and catching up on work (my inbox is a permanent disaster area), somehow it’s mid-October (!) and it still isn’t up on the blog.
As I wrote about in one of my first posts, when podcasts and education collide, it’s my favorite thing. So, you can imagine my excitement when I was invited to be interviewed on a podcast, about education.
The podcast, On the Vendor Floor, is spearheaded by Melissa Emler, an educator who coaches teachers in tech across 31 districts. Melissa managed to find our booth at ISTE this year, which in itself is quite the achievement, considering we were all the way at the back, along the perimeter, and hiding behind an enormous, curved standing banner from a neighborly vendor. When we spoke about this off the air, she made a sweet comparison, saying, “All the good stuff in most big stores is in the back, around the perimeter.” Shucks. :3
[blockquote source=”John Romanovich, on his experience as a recovery worker post-9/11″]I think most of us consider ourselves just to be ants crawling around on the pile.[/blockquote]
Today is a difficult day. If you want to remember 9/11, consider remembering it through the people who were brave enough to share their experiences with StoryCorps.
There is this one recent episode of This American Life that I just can’t shake. I shared it on Twitter time and time (and time) again. And now I’m sharing it here. Seeing as this blog is bit a of a confluence of education and podcasts (among other things), it seems fitting to write about it.
This American Life has been a gateway for a lot of now-podcast junkies. Perhaps because of its longevity, but also because of moving and poignant episodes like this one. When I first heard it during a flight to Las Vegas, I failed miserably at hiding my tears and suppressing weird mouth noises from the strangers between whom I was wedged. (They gave me some concerned glances, but generally ignored me otherwise.)