Category Archives: teaching

My classes are not perfect

Posted on by

… and neither am I. And surely it’s all for the best, anyway.

It’s the night before the new term here. I’ve been working steadily for the last week to prepare. There have been orientations and retreats (all virtual this year, of course). I’ve done a ton of advising and behind-the-scenes work to help with course registration. I assisted other instructors in all sorts of ways (developing activity ideas, sharing files, recording videos). I also helped the graduate instructors who I supervise create intro videos and rework a campus class for remote delivery. And then, finally, I took care of my own class prep.

My classes are locked and loaded, ready to be released in the morning. This weekend I updated videos, dates, and assignments. I refreshed readings. I found (and corrected) two typos in last year’s versions of the course materials. I closely looked at assignments and considered a new one in one course (but decided the current version of the course is nicely streamlined so I left it as-is). I could do more. I won’t. I don’t have time. I’m not even sure that I should do more if I had the time.

My Canvas sites surely contain an error or two. It’s inevitable. I doubt I’ve ever had a term where I didn’t eventually find a typo or broken link (or have it pointed out to me by someone who stumbled upon it) across pages of text and links. Would I have done a better job finding those errors if I hadn’t spent time helping others and instead focused all of my energy on my own course? I doubt it. No matter how thorough I am, these things happen. I still try to be thorough, but I accept the errors for what they are: minor signs of imperfection. Signs of being human. Nothing that actually impedes the learning experience.

There is, of course, a difference between having a well-designed course with a minor typo or broken link and having a poorly or under-deigned course. Typos and broken links can be fixed with a few keystrokes, but poor design often leads to student confusion and frustration.

Ultimately the stakes are low in a well-designed course. Still, while I type this post I resist the urge to go back to my classes and do … something. Thoughts run through my head like:

  • If I check it all over one more time, I bet I’ll catch a typo. Or not. My eyes are tired. I’ve already checked over it.Twice. I’m not likely to find the tenacious typo now.
  • If I recorded that video one more time, maybe I could get rid of the spot where I stumble on a word. That was Take 3. It was the best of 4 takes. It is surely good enough.
  • There was that graphic I was going to make for Week 1. And then I ran out of time. It would be so cool. Maybe I could make it now? Or I could get some sleep. No one will know that it’s missing. No one knows it’s something I meant to do. It’s cool — but it’s far from necessary. And maybe I can do it tomorrow.
  • Maybe I should have spent more time looking for new readings. I only did a cursory search to see what relevant items had been published in the last year. Then again, if my cursory search turned up nothing, then the readings that I used and was happy with last year should suffice.

I imagine that even if I found one more typo, recorded a flawless video, made that cool graphic, and found a new reading, I’d still be sitting here pondering what more I could have done to improve the classes.

I’m going to launch my classes, flaws and all, because I know that they are more than just good enough. They’re not perfect, but I don’t actually believe there is any such thing as the perfectly designed class. There are always different decisions one could make. Better graphics one could use. More course materials one could create. However, having the 100% typo-free, graphically gorgeous class wouldn’t necessarily improve learning outcomes for my students.

After years of reconciling with them, I’ve reached a point where I feel that minor course imperfections work in my favor. Through them I show that I’m human. By addressing them when I see them or having them pointed out, I show that I care and that I’m responsive. By thanking the people who point them out and not reacting with shame or embarrassment, I model a mature way of handling my imperfection. I hope I make my students feel more comfortable. I don’t hold myself to an impossible standard, and I don’t hold them to one, either.

In the end, teaching isn’t about perfection. Neither is learning. But both are about growth. I’m ready to grow and learn this term, and I’m confident that I’ve designed materials, activities, and assessments that will help my students grow and learn, too. Now the heavy lifting (facilitation) begins.

I’m ready to get this term started. Me and my slightly imperfect classes are going to initiate some rich learning interactions — and isn’t that the important thing?

Discussion Board Guidelines

Posted on by

Something I get asked about a lot is how I get students to be active participants in asynchronous discussion.

The short answer: I ask them to.

The longer answer: I have clear expectations and communicate them to my students. Otherwise, how would they know what to do? Many of them are new to asynchronous discussion or, worse, have developed minimum participation habits based on low or unarticulated expectations in other online learning experiences they’ve had.

Over the years, I’ve learned that I need to tell students exactly what constitutes a robust class discussion and explain why we are engaged in discussion. If I don’t, my students will engage in all sorts of discussion behaviors that I don’t want them to, like:

  1. Write all of their posts in the fifteen minutes before the deadline.
  2. Write mini-essays that no one wants to read or respond to (or grade).
  3. Write posts that essentially say nothing.
  4. Write posts that just repeat the readings or what someone else has said.
  5. Worry all week that they don’t know enough or haven’t read enough to participate.

Each of these behaviors inhibits discussion. The first four make it unlikely anyone will read and respond, and the fifth causes unnecessary stress and delays participation.

Asynchronous discussion is not quite the same as synchronous discussion, and we shouldn’t expect it to be. However, we should expect it to be engaging and robust in its own way. Additionally, we should expect it to provide our students with the practice that they need to master course concepts and succeed on larger course assessments.

Over the years, I’ve developed discussion guidelines that I share with my students at the beginning of the course. These guidelines — all three pages of them — lay out my philosophy of online discussion.

These guidelines will help many students engage in discussion as expected, and they in turn become model participants for other students to follow. However, guidelines alone are not enough. Feedback and grades also help shape student behavior. When students do not perform as expected, I let them know. I provide written feedback about how to improve (and I can point right back to the guidelines) and may deduct points as well. Most students who get improvement-focused feedback improve the next week. The ones who don’t will continue to get the feedback and lose points. I can’t change their behavior for them, but I can provide feedback and offer to talk with them about the expectations if they are confused or are unhappy with the grade they have received. (I always offer. No one has ever taken me up on that offer, so I assume those students are happy as-is.)

I’m sharing my baseline discussion guideline document here, as a word document so anyone can easily save and edit it.

Discussion Guidelines (Word Doc)Download

Feel free to adapt the document for your own use. You’ll see that I don’t make students discuss every week. Instead, I use a system where low grades are dropped, which means students can take a few weeks off without hurting their final grades. I’m a strong believer in that approach … but that’s another post for another day.

People first: Teaching through difficult times

Posted on by

Higher education does not really prepare us well to be higher educators. This is no surprise. Most higher education instructors teach following the model that they found most effective as students, that was modeled for them by mentors, or that they feel is most accepted in their disciplines. Instructors learn by modeling and observation, but the models are not always carefully chosen and the observations are not always debriefed. Still, with time and practice, an instructor’s teaching craft is (hopefully) honed and strengthened while concurrently their content knowledge is deepened and solidified. This is the trajectory of an engaged instructor.

In much the same way that we have little preparation to teach, we also have little preparation to address student needs during difficult times. Even folks who are well versed in pedagogy because it happens to be one of the topics they teach are not prepared for teaching in difficult times. (Yes, that’s me! I’m raising my hand to the sky!)

Continue reading →

Social Media as an Educational Innovation: Tips

Posted on by

Two weeks ago I gave a presentation at AECT about social media as an educational innovation. The presentation was part of a session brought together by Bob Reiser, and the other presenters were Clark Quinn (Mobile Learning), David Wiley (OER), and Curt Bonk (MOOCs). We were each tasked with providing our best tips or advice on our topics, with a 10-minute time limit.

It was an interesting task, trying to distill my thoughts on social media use in formal learning settings into a rather brief presentation. In the end I came up with 9 tips (and having passed them in front of my students first I feel confident that I hit on the main points I typically cover in a full semester’s class).

Here are my slides, as well as some thoughts on each tip:

Continue reading →

Getting back on course…

Posted on by

Tomorrow morning Week 4 of the semester begins! I’m teaching two graduate-level classes. Each meets once a week for 3 hours. You might think that means that I’ve had 9 contact hours so far with each class … but you would be quite wrong.

Thanks to Hurricane Irma, which thankfully only skirted our local area and left minimal (compared to last year’s Hurricane Hermine and Irma elsewhere) damages and power outages, the university closed for 6 business days. From Friday of Week 2 through Friday of Week 3, classes were canceled. For my Tuesday class, that was a loss of 3 classroom hours. For my Friday class, a loss of 6 hours. In fact, we’ve only met once! (Hi EME6476 students – aren’t you glad I kept you for the full 3 hours during Week 1?). Continue reading →

I love all of my classes the most.

Posted on by

I love all of my children classes the most

Today is the day! My learning theory class begins! I love teaching learning theory. I love it the most! It’s my favorite class to teach! I always get excited by the class on the first day – and why not? It’s learning theory! Fascinating stuff. Explains so much of how the human world works.

I get that I perhaps shouldn’t be so excited. It’s a required 5000-level graduate course. Most (all?) students take it because they’re required to. It’s not the course they’ve all dreamed of taking for years, at least not when they enroll. I just hope that by the end they’ve grown to find the topic as mesmerizing and useful as I do.

Continue reading →

EME6414 = time to blog

Posted on by

I’m excited. Tomorrow is the day. Tomorrow my EME6414 Web 2.0-based Learning & Performance class begins again. I first designed and taught this course nine years ago, and have taught it every summer since. It always has a large enrollment – usually between 25-40 – and is typically a 6-week intensive graduate-level course.

I’m excited for the course to begin, because it is my annual chance to “play” at work, to catch up on what tools are new and to practice using them with a group of similarly interested people. What could be better?

I’m also excited because I decided that this year I’m going to take a new approach to blogging during this course.

How it has been done in years past? I always maintain a blog throughout the course (linked here), and it serves as a hub of sorts for the class. Although we use the LMS for sharing course materials, submitting assignments, and delivering grades and feedback, I require everyone in the course to keep a blog (not necessarily under their real name) and my blog interlinks all of these student blogs. I use my blog to share items of interest to students in the course and to model the blogging process.

Each summer I have enjoyed my 6 weeks of blogging with my class, and at the end I always promise myself that I will shift my energies over to my own blog – my personal blog space – and continue to write a blog on a regular basis through the school year. And then I go on vacation for about 10 days, and the new school year starts to crank up with its retreats and orientations, rapidly followed by new classes with new students, the start of the conference season, the onslaught of student defense season, the heightened activities of the oncoming holiday season. You see where I’m headed with this, right? I have fun blogging with people. I start a blogging habit. Then my blogging community drifts on to other things, I step back from work for a bit, and the prospect of entering a different writing space and starting it up again from scratch is pretty daunting. I let all of the other things competing for my attention win.

So, what will I do differently this year?  I will continue to maintain the EME6414 course blog, because it serves a clear purpose within the class. It’s also a different style of blogging than I want to engage in over here.  In addition, I plan to start blogging again in this space concurrently. I may cross-post some items, but I also have a list of topics in my bullet journal titled “These should be blog posts.” The topics range from thoughts about the profession to ideas I’m noodling around related to some of my scholarly projects.  Clearly I want to blog about these topics since I’ve been keeping a list as the ideas come to me (plus I regularly have ideas and actually think “this should be a blog post”).

I’m hopeful that perhaps some of my summer students (and perhaps some other people) will choose to read this blog and interact with me a bit. Having an audience is motivating. However, I the more important part is that I exercise my writing chops in this short form and that it serves the purpose that I seek, namely an outlet for some formative and reflective thought processes.

At the end of six weeks will blogging here be a habit? Will I have a better sense of how I want to use this writing space? I don’t know. Let’s check back around August 5 and see.

PS: EME6414 folks, if you read this please say “hi!”