Last week I asked for reactions to my campaign to replace “Vacationland” as the image of our state by “The Learning State” and, of course, earning the right to this title. The few negative responses complained that Maine is “teacher-unfriendly” as shown by low salaries, poor pension plan and the policy of fingerprinting. I wish more people would write in to support a full discussion in a future column of teacher-friendliness. Today I take up some issues that come out of the positive reactions.

One of these is about words: “The Learning State” vs. “Learning Land.” I hesitated on this myself and would love to hear more views. People in the advertising business would tell you that choice of words does matter very much if you are trying to influence whether a young person dreams of owning a Toyota or a Ford. Perhaps we should learn from these specialists if we want to reduce the probability that, as retired teacher Alfred Webster of Carrabassett Valley puts it, “young people dream of living out their lives in Maine, Vacationland where their ultimate goal is to own a 4-WD pickup with a snowmobile in the back.”

Are we educators as competent as the advertising specialists at promoting dreams? Isn’t doing so as important a part of our job as teaching fractions?

Science teacher Mark Leathers of Newport is one of many who add to the list of ways in which our state can already claim to be a learning state. “Maine is a rich learning culture due to our agricultural and outdoor heritage. ‘On the Farm’ youngsters need to ‘figure out’ tasks and not be directed at every step.”

I note that the header on his message was “Learning Land” and hope that he intended to make a play on the two L-words. But beyond semantics he raises a deep issue about the learning environment in which children grow up. I didn’t quite grow up on a farm. But I did grow up in an environment where if the car’s engine weren’t running well one would look inside and do something before taking it to a professional mechanic. I know that my own development as a learner was strongly shaped by many examples of this kind of can-do relationship with technology and I attribute much of America’s success in the world to attitudes “On the farm youngsters” learned from keeping that tractor going long beyond its intended life by fixing it with wire and pliers.

I worry about the fact that modern technology has become too opaque to permit these lessons in learning. I worry even more about the fact that our education theorists don’t give this kind of thing at least as much importance as methods for teaching spelling or fractions.

One of several respondents who picked up on the theme of family learning culture asked for an explanation: “I read your desire to have a dialogue. I am a teacher of third and fourth graders in a ‘multiage setting’ in a public school. This dialogue is centered on the family learning culture – correct? (not the lap top issue ?) I just need a little clarification here! Thanks!”

What Mark Leathers and Alfred Webster write can be read as an answer to this request. The family learning culture includes how the family deals with the little daily problems that come up. Do you “figure out” what is wrong with the car, the washing machine or the weird account that came from some company? Do you feel unhappy about the elevation of “Vacationland” into the slogan of your state? What makes me excited about “the laptop issue” is exactly its contribution to making the learning culture of the home as well as of the classroom more like that of Mark’s farm or my childhood. Perhaps the car engine has become too opaque to serve as the carrier of can-do learning. But kids have proven to be remarkably adept at managing the complexities of computers. They figure it out. They direct their own steps.

So the “laptop issue” is of a piece with all the other ways in which we can improve the learning culture in which our children grow up. It provides new insights and new stimuli to discussing bigger issues that are too often neglected. So let the dialogue grow!

I have a request for people who send in e-mails. Please indicate whether you want me to use your name if I mention your ideas and also whether you would give permission to post your e-mail on a Web site I am planning to open in the next few weeks.

Seymour Papert is professor emeritus at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, a Distinguished Computer Scientist at the University of Maine and a member of Maine Learning Technology Task Force. He may be contacted at Papert@midmaine.com.