The Sloan report on "Blending In", while presenting that there is room for consumer growth in blended learning environments since openness and preference exceeds experience, that academic leaders perceived no higher value of hybrid learning as "the best of both worlds" A more recent article, however, (Demski's "A Better Blend"), irrefutably states a 2009 Department of Education study that found larger advantages of hybrid learning over face to face instruction. Her article describes a teacher who successfully uses class forum discussion on a social networking site as a warm up for face to face conversation.
Bonk makes a nice list of suggestions to address the technology resistance movement, including incremental change, shared success, training and development, just-in-time support, sharing atmospheres, awards/incentives, modeling, etc,etc. It seems to me that blended instruction is just one way to move teachers incrementally from the "technology is isolating" argument.
In my early inquiry last Spring, I spent time talking to a few fabulous high school English teachers in the Bloomington area who had had wide success in using class Nings to collaborate with other classrooms during a War of Vietnam Unit. Central to their model was the forum discussion, and the face to face conversation that followed after the forum discussion. Reflection and engagement, thus, go hand in hand in this new world of learning models . . .
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Online Classes: What's In It for Me?
All of the reading this week about online learning (NACOL's "A National Primer on K-12 Online Learning; Eduventures: Instructional Tool Usage in Online Education Programs; Sloan Report "Blending In"), I've been thinking a lot about myself, Julie Rust, as an e-learner in an online class. My first year in grad school I took not one, not two, not three, but FOUR online classes, mostly due to the fact that I lived in Terre Haute (not Bloomington), and I had a three month old at home.
These classes, which I initially signed up for in a "okay- I'll compromise my education for the sake of my daughter" kind of way, ended up being pivotal, both in shaping my research interests and the learning of the content-focus within them. Here's a non-comprehensive "the good, the bad, but mostly the good" about my online course experience:
1. When a professor utilized video lecture or video-streamed classes (thanks, Dr. Bonk), I could MULTI-TASK while attending CLASS! Watch me folding laundry as I learn about creativity form a variety of theorists, or nursing my baby while taking notes on differentiated assessment!
2. I could "attend class" and asynchronously engage in forum discussions with classmates, whether I was up at 2:30 AM with a sick baby, or doing my work on Friday nights when my husband was home for work.
3. These forum discussions were revelations. Since my primary mode of discussion about course readings/topics was WRITTEN (a reflective, learning practice for me) rather than just SPEAKING (an impulsive, less-reflective process for me) my contributions were richer and more thoughtful than they typically are in class.
4. One professor (Dr. Barbara Dennis) had such a STRONG presence in our Y5221 class as she engaged so often in one-to-one communication, posting personal videos to our small groups, etc, etc, that when I met her face to face, I felt as if we were already close! She also powerfully divided up the class into groups of 4-5 for discussions, which increased an intimate community and sense of trust.
5. This summer, Dr. Rob Kunzman provided SPECIFIC feedback to my forum discussion contributions using an assessment rubric. Within his narrative comments, he always referred to at least one or two specific thoughts that I had and reflected on them.
I could go on and on, but it became pretty clear to me that, while face to face classes will ALWAYS have a special place in my heart, I've become a "hybrid" kinda gal.
These classes, which I initially signed up for in a "okay- I'll compromise my education for the sake of my daughter" kind of way, ended up being pivotal, both in shaping my research interests and the learning of the content-focus within them. Here's a non-comprehensive "the good, the bad, but mostly the good" about my online course experience:
1. When a professor utilized video lecture or video-streamed classes (thanks, Dr. Bonk), I could MULTI-TASK while attending CLASS! Watch me folding laundry as I learn about creativity form a variety of theorists, or nursing my baby while taking notes on differentiated assessment!
2. I could "attend class" and asynchronously engage in forum discussions with classmates, whether I was up at 2:30 AM with a sick baby, or doing my work on Friday nights when my husband was home for work.
3. These forum discussions were revelations. Since my primary mode of discussion about course readings/topics was WRITTEN (a reflective, learning practice for me) rather than just SPEAKING (an impulsive, less-reflective process for me) my contributions were richer and more thoughtful than they typically are in class.
4. One professor (Dr. Barbara Dennis) had such a STRONG presence in our Y5221 class as she engaged so often in one-to-one communication, posting personal videos to our small groups, etc, etc, that when I met her face to face, I felt as if we were already close! She also powerfully divided up the class into groups of 4-5 for discussions, which increased an intimate community and sense of trust.
5. This summer, Dr. Rob Kunzman provided SPECIFIC feedback to my forum discussion contributions using an assessment rubric. Within his narrative comments, he always referred to at least one or two specific thoughts that I had and reflected on them.
I could go on and on, but it became pretty clear to me that, while face to face classes will ALWAYS have a special place in my heart, I've become a "hybrid" kinda gal.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Oh Guilt-Inducing Digital Information Age . . .
Some people, the normal ones, get excited by all of the cool things that technology offers, all of the amazing, positive, thoughtful ways people have utilized the affordances of the Internet, of mobile phones, of ebooks for the sincere goal of democratic education.
I, on the other hand, feel guilty.
I don't feel guilty because I am a white, privileged American girl who grew up in the kind of middle class home where my first car was bought for me. I don't feel guilty because I don't always stop completely at four way stops, and I sometimes speed up, rather than slow down, at yellow lights. I don't even feel guilty that I gave my two year old her pacifier in the car on the way to daycare this morning, even though I promised my husband we'd only use them when sleeping from now on. Nope.
I feel guilty in the same way I've always felt guilty when standing in bookcase-lined libraries. I feel guilty because, in the grand scheme of things, I've read NOTHING. I know NOTHING. I've retained NOTHING. And even though, I've got a few years ahead of me to live, I realize with great clarity that I will never make it through all of the books in that library, even if I developed a strategic system to do so.
You can imagine the problem, then, that Internet presents for me. Not only are there blogs to read and comment on, websites to visit and peruse, shops to purchase from, an entire virtual world called Second Life . . . but there are also, you guessed it . . . E-BOOKS! It's a virtual monster monster library, one that in a million years I could never conquer.
So here's the question: How do you behave when confronted with an impossible task, even if it's an impossible task that you deeply WANT to take on? Here's how I behave. I shut down.
So as I click from cool e-book-related website to website, my heart slowly sinks deeper in my chest, as I realize "I should have used this when I taught middle school! My ninth grade fifth hour class would have LOVED this. This would have been GREAT in my presentation last conference. If I had KNOWN this existed."
And if I'm going to be really honest, I'd also note that a portion of my guilt stems from the realization that I haven't been a creator of ANY of this cool stuff. That, while I slept last night, thousands of innovative people were hard at work crafting things I never would have dreamed of! And I'm unsure if this has to do with my inherent laziness or just my general inferiority.
So there I go, turning a cool week of readings and websites into a psychotherapy section all about me. Somehow I've got to move out of this "there's so much to do and see and read" paralysis. Somehow I've got to figure out an efficient way to catalogue, remember, store, and use the cool things I find, rather than just getting excited for two seconds and then immediately forgetting it. And somehow I've got to jump in on the game and become a producer myself.
I wonder if any of my students have felt this overwhelmed way about the Internet. . . I wonder how I can enable them to surf (rather than be drowned by) the digital wave . . .
I, on the other hand, feel guilty.
I don't feel guilty because I am a white, privileged American girl who grew up in the kind of middle class home where my first car was bought for me. I don't feel guilty because I don't always stop completely at four way stops, and I sometimes speed up, rather than slow down, at yellow lights. I don't even feel guilty that I gave my two year old her pacifier in the car on the way to daycare this morning, even though I promised my husband we'd only use them when sleeping from now on. Nope.
I feel guilty in the same way I've always felt guilty when standing in bookcase-lined libraries. I feel guilty because, in the grand scheme of things, I've read NOTHING. I know NOTHING. I've retained NOTHING. And even though, I've got a few years ahead of me to live, I realize with great clarity that I will never make it through all of the books in that library, even if I developed a strategic system to do so.
You can imagine the problem, then, that Internet presents for me. Not only are there blogs to read and comment on, websites to visit and peruse, shops to purchase from, an entire virtual world called Second Life . . . but there are also, you guessed it . . . E-BOOKS! It's a virtual monster monster library, one that in a million years I could never conquer.
So here's the question: How do you behave when confronted with an impossible task, even if it's an impossible task that you deeply WANT to take on? Here's how I behave. I shut down.
So as I click from cool e-book-related website to website, my heart slowly sinks deeper in my chest, as I realize "I should have used this when I taught middle school! My ninth grade fifth hour class would have LOVED this. This would have been GREAT in my presentation last conference. If I had KNOWN this existed."
And if I'm going to be really honest, I'd also note that a portion of my guilt stems from the realization that I haven't been a creator of ANY of this cool stuff. That, while I slept last night, thousands of innovative people were hard at work crafting things I never would have dreamed of! And I'm unsure if this has to do with my inherent laziness or just my general inferiority.
So there I go, turning a cool week of readings and websites into a psychotherapy section all about me. Somehow I've got to move out of this "there's so much to do and see and read" paralysis. Somehow I've got to figure out an efficient way to catalogue, remember, store, and use the cool things I find, rather than just getting excited for two seconds and then immediately forgetting it. And somehow I've got to jump in on the game and become a producer myself.
I wonder if any of my students have felt this overwhelmed way about the Internet. . . I wonder how I can enable them to surf (rather than be drowned by) the digital wave . . .
Thursday, September 2, 2010
The Icy Bite of POLARized Arguments
I recently read the last Chapter in Zimmerman's insightful book about culture wars in education, where he pointed out that, media headlines to the contrary, very few people are one-sided in the world views. Most at least understand the other side of the argument, and many possess seemingly incomensurable opinions simultaneously. Articles, investigative reporting, and conversations, however, often frame debates quite differently, for the sake of simplicity and perhaps clarity: There are two sides to this issue, and everyone falls on one or the other side.
This good/evil paradigm similarly surfaces in the technology debate, specifically the one that is raging regarding the impact of digital technologies on our brains, our students, our literacy skills, and our schools.
There are the Nicholas Carr's of the world that believe google is making us stupider, driving us away from contemplative, deep thinking and directly into dangerous, multi-tasking, "surfacey"utilitarian thinking. Among his ranks are people like the author of the article "First Church of Robotics", who fears that seeing computers as fellow creatures and not just tools causes us to view humans as mere computers. He calls the technology-enthused movement a new religion, one that demands faith in computers to even make aesthetic choices for us, such as which movie to rent or music to download. Then there's the author of "The End of Human Specialness", who proposes frighteningly that digitally charged mankind is suffering from a decay of belief in self, and calls for a break in tweeting and blogging so that we can "fully exist." It goes without thinking that these guys are the villains in the story. (I am, after all, enthusiastically blogging, aren't I?)
But there are good guys too. And they are the folks who created a new test to measure digital literacy, called iCritical Thinking Certification, a test that calls upon students to solve real problems using technology tools. There are the multitudinous PEW surveys that again and again hit home the point that technology-use is increasing, and perception of technology is overwhelmingly positive. Various reports cite statistics about teens as content creators and consumers, quotes from interviews affirming that social network sharing is here to stay, even quoting experts about how Internet is NOT making us stupid or negatively impacting our reading skills. And I can't forget to mention that nauseatingly (see previous post) optimistic authors of "Connecting the Digital Dots: Literacy of the 21st Century", who laud the deep critical skills inherent in today's call for digital and visual literacy.
But to tell you the truth, I'm left watching the battle wishing the two sides would just annhilate each other. Because technology talk, especially technology talk about education, needs to be more than just persuasive . . . it needs to be thoughtful. I get what Nicholas Carr is saying, and I think some of his cautions are essential to take into account. The cognitive overload I experience each day is palpable, and I often yearn for a time where my reading was limited to the books on a shelf in a library. And I've multitasked throughout this entire blog (I checked my email four times, called Uverse to get my VISA rewards card, worked on a schedule for my daughter's daycare, etc) and I definitely noticed the extra amount of energy it took to switch from task to task. And honestly, I couldn't stand "Connecting the Digital Dots" article, which was vague to a fault and blatantly over the top. And I'm not so sure that investing our time in creating a standard way to measure students' technology skills is the best use of our time, although it may be a realistic one.
All of this to say, all of us are large enough to hold paradoxical thoughts and understandings about technology. And, even if we aren't large enough, our world is certainly is.
This good/evil paradigm similarly surfaces in the technology debate, specifically the one that is raging regarding the impact of digital technologies on our brains, our students, our literacy skills, and our schools.
There are the Nicholas Carr's of the world that believe google is making us stupider, driving us away from contemplative, deep thinking and directly into dangerous, multi-tasking, "surfacey"utilitarian thinking. Among his ranks are people like the author of the article "First Church of Robotics", who fears that seeing computers as fellow creatures and not just tools causes us to view humans as mere computers. He calls the technology-enthused movement a new religion, one that demands faith in computers to even make aesthetic choices for us, such as which movie to rent or music to download. Then there's the author of "The End of Human Specialness", who proposes frighteningly that digitally charged mankind is suffering from a decay of belief in self, and calls for a break in tweeting and blogging so that we can "fully exist." It goes without thinking that these guys are the villains in the story. (I am, after all, enthusiastically blogging, aren't I?)
But there are good guys too. And they are the folks who created a new test to measure digital literacy, called iCritical Thinking Certification, a test that calls upon students to solve real problems using technology tools. There are the multitudinous PEW surveys that again and again hit home the point that technology-use is increasing, and perception of technology is overwhelmingly positive. Various reports cite statistics about teens as content creators and consumers, quotes from interviews affirming that social network sharing is here to stay, even quoting experts about how Internet is NOT making us stupid or negatively impacting our reading skills. And I can't forget to mention that nauseatingly (see previous post) optimistic authors of "Connecting the Digital Dots: Literacy of the 21st Century", who laud the deep critical skills inherent in today's call for digital and visual literacy.
But to tell you the truth, I'm left watching the battle wishing the two sides would just annhilate each other. Because technology talk, especially technology talk about education, needs to be more than just persuasive . . . it needs to be thoughtful. I get what Nicholas Carr is saying, and I think some of his cautions are essential to take into account. The cognitive overload I experience each day is palpable, and I often yearn for a time where my reading was limited to the books on a shelf in a library. And I've multitasked throughout this entire blog (I checked my email four times, called Uverse to get my VISA rewards card, worked on a schedule for my daughter's daycare, etc) and I definitely noticed the extra amount of energy it took to switch from task to task. And honestly, I couldn't stand "Connecting the Digital Dots" article, which was vague to a fault and blatantly over the top. And I'm not so sure that investing our time in creating a standard way to measure students' technology skills is the best use of our time, although it may be a realistic one.
All of this to say, all of us are large enough to hold paradoxical thoughts and understandings about technology. And, even if we aren't large enough, our world is certainly is.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
The "It's All Starting to Sound the Same" Factor
There comes a time in every PhD student's life when reading the same research articles that used to WOW one into ecstasy start to bore one into a near-coma. The very same words that used to seem pumped full of new ideas and creative organizations of concepts seem to be just singing the same old tune, perhaps slightly faster or slower or in a different key, but the same tune, nonetheless. For me, that time is now.
Let me make this clear. I am by no means an expert into digital literacies or technology in the classroom. There is an overwhelming amount of work that is being done/has been done that I am totally clueless about. And don't even get me started on how clueless I am regarding my own personal uses of these technologies I have professed to be so interested in. I don't even Twitter or text, for goodness sake.
But if I hear/read/think the words "collective meaning making", "multi-tasking", "digital native" or the importance of "reflection" one more time, I could very well do something that would be quite shocking and inappropriate. (Such as only SKIM, rather than fully read the rest of the week's readings.)
I'm hoping my new cynical attitude can just be chalked up to sleep deprivation or being stuck in "summer mode". I'm hoping that I can regain my passion for reading theory, which by definition tends to be over-generalized, uncontextualized, and kind of presumptious. I'm hoping all of this, because the articles this week in class about New-Millennial/Web 2.0 Learners were good. Really good. I believe in the power of WHD's to promote fluency in multiple media, collective learning experiences, and reflection founded in experience. I'm glad to hear that, according to the Speak Up survey, principals and administrators are supportive about technology integration. (Where are these principals and administrators? I've certainly never worked under them.) And I agree that the "Net Generation" is unique, and am left wondering if I am part of this generation since I was born during 1982, not AFTER 1982.
I'm reminded of the feeling I had when I was in the first trimester, pregnant with my now two-year-old, and I saw a piece of chocolate cake or a doughnut. "I know I used to enjoy that immensely, that I used to eat these things constantly, but all I want to do when I smell them now is vomit." Perhaps not the best way to start to a semester (comparing the assigned articles to nausea-inducing subjects) but, then again, the first trimester isn't a great start to motherhood, and I'm pretty darn happy with it now: chocolate cake, toddler, and all.
Let me make this clear. I am by no means an expert into digital literacies or technology in the classroom. There is an overwhelming amount of work that is being done/has been done that I am totally clueless about. And don't even get me started on how clueless I am regarding my own personal uses of these technologies I have professed to be so interested in. I don't even Twitter or text, for goodness sake.
But if I hear/read/think the words "collective meaning making", "multi-tasking", "digital native" or the importance of "reflection" one more time, I could very well do something that would be quite shocking and inappropriate. (Such as only SKIM, rather than fully read the rest of the week's readings.)
I'm hoping my new cynical attitude can just be chalked up to sleep deprivation or being stuck in "summer mode". I'm hoping that I can regain my passion for reading theory, which by definition tends to be over-generalized, uncontextualized, and kind of presumptious. I'm hoping all of this, because the articles this week in class about New-Millennial/Web 2.0 Learners were good. Really good. I believe in the power of WHD's to promote fluency in multiple media, collective learning experiences, and reflection founded in experience. I'm glad to hear that, according to the Speak Up survey, principals and administrators are supportive about technology integration. (Where are these principals and administrators? I've certainly never worked under them.) And I agree that the "Net Generation" is unique, and am left wondering if I am part of this generation since I was born during 1982, not AFTER 1982.
I'm reminded of the feeling I had when I was in the first trimester, pregnant with my now two-year-old, and I saw a piece of chocolate cake or a doughnut. "I know I used to enjoy that immensely, that I used to eat these things constantly, but all I want to do when I smell them now is vomit." Perhaps not the best way to start to a semester (comparing the assigned articles to nausea-inducing subjects) but, then again, the first trimester isn't a great start to motherhood, and I'm pretty darn happy with it now: chocolate cake, toddler, and all.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Why I Shouldn't Be the Person to Write a Blog Entitled "How to Write a Blog"
So I'm teaching a new course this semester, one euphemistically entitled "The Culture of College", but one that could perhaps more accurately be called "I'm on Academic Probation and I Want to Get Out." And, of course, being the teacherly sadist that I am, I've made one of the requirements in the course to be the following: Create a blog. Some have met me with disbelief, others with death threats. Therefore, in a great outreaching of kindness and respect I'd like to offer an olive branch of help via this blog "How to write a blog."
Unfortunately, I am just so NOT the person to be writing this blog. I've blogged, what, like fifteen times my entire life, and each time was a designated class assignment, which really means, I've never blogged. Of course, I've always wished I WAS the type of cool, intellectual young adult, coffee-sipping, pop-cultue-spouting person that did this sort of thing effortlessly, but let's get real. I'm the mother of a 19 month old (FYI-mother's of toddlers don't have time to shower, let alone blog), who is getting so close to turning 30 that one of my biggest current life goals is to use the phrase "I'm in my twenties" at least five times a day.
There are other reasons, worse, deeper reasons that I'm not qualified to write a blog. I'm an English teacher, for instance, and this immediately qualifies me to write such award-winning essays such as "how to analyze Shakespeare" or "how to diagram sentences" but hardly qualifies me to write about an emerging, important, social-networking-medium that is actually relevant and accessible in REAL life.
So yeah, if I were to attempt to actually act like an expert on the topic, I'd probably be awarded something like "World's Biggest Hypocrite" or, well, you get the idea . . .
Instead, I'll just let them figure it out on their own. Student-centered teaching. All the teachers are doing it, after all . . .
Unfortunately, I am just so NOT the person to be writing this blog. I've blogged, what, like fifteen times my entire life, and each time was a designated class assignment, which really means, I've never blogged. Of course, I've always wished I WAS the type of cool, intellectual young adult, coffee-sipping, pop-cultue-spouting person that did this sort of thing effortlessly, but let's get real. I'm the mother of a 19 month old (FYI-mother's of toddlers don't have time to shower, let alone blog), who is getting so close to turning 30 that one of my biggest current life goals is to use the phrase "I'm in my twenties" at least five times a day.
There are other reasons, worse, deeper reasons that I'm not qualified to write a blog. I'm an English teacher, for instance, and this immediately qualifies me to write such award-winning essays such as "how to analyze Shakespeare" or "how to diagram sentences" but hardly qualifies me to write about an emerging, important, social-networking-medium that is actually relevant and accessible in REAL life.
So yeah, if I were to attempt to actually act like an expert on the topic, I'd probably be awarded something like "World's Biggest Hypocrite" or, well, you get the idea . . .
Instead, I'll just let them figure it out on their own. Student-centered teaching. All the teachers are doing it, after all . . .
Thursday, December 3, 2009
My Schizophrenic Relationship With New Media
So, yeah, you know how Kylie said something about someone getting angry at the Bauerlein reading while running on the treadmill. Well, I was actually on an elliptical, but that was me. But I wasn't entirely angry just because of his impossibly flawed arguments. I was angry because some (very few, but some) of them made sense. And I was angry, because a ton of the things he was lamenting about young people nowadays were really true about me, although I never would have the audacity or stupidity to blame them on new media.
So, while I found Ito et al. to espouse everything I want to believe about new media, and all of the great, informal learning that goes on there, I found Bauerlein to point out all of things I want to ignore.
Which brings me to studio time last week. You know how a few blogs ago I whined about how noisy studio time was, how I couldn't get any "real" work done, how I hate constructionism and blah blah blah. Well, guess what. I've been born again. Because this past week, I had a plan to work that INVOLVED OTHER PEOPLE. I interviewed you guys. I got David to help me with Movie Maker, and Steve helped me when I couldn't find my video files because I'm, well, me. I was so durn productive, I got all but like 30 minutes of work done on my final studio project.
Which brings me to my last studio project. Finally, I found something that was easy, that was fun, that felt meaningful. Scratch was cool, but so demanding on my nonexistent skills. And computational textiles, well, that involved SEWING . . enough said. So to be able to use a tool that took little brain power, like a flip camera, and another tool that took just slightly more brain power, windows movie maker . . . it felt like vacation . . . it felt like oreos and milk . . . it felt like-- how everyone else has been feeling studio time all semester.
So, I hate to end on such an embarrassingly positive note, but I've got to. Because sometimes I love new media, and sometimes I hate it. And most of the time I recognize the tremedous help new media can be in accomplishing some pretty cool things. And I ALWAYS admire people that do these pretty cool things.
As for my little movie, I don't think I'd quite rank it as a pretty cool thing, but it's definitely closer to a pretty cool thing than my daughter's Halloween shirt with half a battery sewn in is. . .
And, no, I'm not going to post it. Premier showing this coming Tuesday, the 8th.
Don't miss it.
So, while I found Ito et al. to espouse everything I want to believe about new media, and all of the great, informal learning that goes on there, I found Bauerlein to point out all of things I want to ignore.
Which brings me to studio time last week. You know how a few blogs ago I whined about how noisy studio time was, how I couldn't get any "real" work done, how I hate constructionism and blah blah blah. Well, guess what. I've been born again. Because this past week, I had a plan to work that INVOLVED OTHER PEOPLE. I interviewed you guys. I got David to help me with Movie Maker, and Steve helped me when I couldn't find my video files because I'm, well, me. I was so durn productive, I got all but like 30 minutes of work done on my final studio project.
Which brings me to my last studio project. Finally, I found something that was easy, that was fun, that felt meaningful. Scratch was cool, but so demanding on my nonexistent skills. And computational textiles, well, that involved SEWING . . enough said. So to be able to use a tool that took little brain power, like a flip camera, and another tool that took just slightly more brain power, windows movie maker . . . it felt like vacation . . . it felt like oreos and milk . . . it felt like-- how everyone else has been feeling studio time all semester.
So, I hate to end on such an embarrassingly positive note, but I've got to. Because sometimes I love new media, and sometimes I hate it. And most of the time I recognize the tremedous help new media can be in accomplishing some pretty cool things. And I ALWAYS admire people that do these pretty cool things.
As for my little movie, I don't think I'd quite rank it as a pretty cool thing, but it's definitely closer to a pretty cool thing than my daughter's Halloween shirt with half a battery sewn in is. . .
And, no, I'm not going to post it. Premier showing this coming Tuesday, the 8th.
Don't miss it.
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