I had a meeting yesterday--maybe my first meeting on campus that wasn't associated with a job or New Faculty Orientation (which are sort of connected anyway, right?). It was a meeting about offering a blended version of my Core 180 class. The idea actually came from Jason Lief. He was trying to come up with a way for his Core 150 students--all 50 of them--to have fewer corners in the classroom to hide in. So we got to talking about it and he threw out the idea of blending a class, so that half the students came on Tuesday and the other half on Thursday and they did the day they were missing online. I'm pretty excited about it--I often have students in my 180 that I think would speak up if the group was slightly smaller. I polled one of my 180 classes this semester with the statement: I would be most likely to speak up in a class of... a) 10 or fewer students, b) 10-30 students, c) 30+ students. Twenty of the students chose 10 or fewer and while splitting a 180 is not going to quite get their physically, in introducing an online element, I think I may be able to split up the halves once or twice more for online discussion groups. Five students chose 10-30, which reinforces my idea that there are some students that would speak up more often in a smaller class. Seven students chose 30+, which was surprising until I realized that I usually have about 7 students per semester that run the discussion.
All this to say: I'm excited that teaching this class now is already leading to opportunities to enhance other classes, including traditionally face-to-face classes.
And! I hope Dave has a good poll tool for us. If you haven't checked out polleverywhere.com, you should. It's super easy to use, it's free up to 40 answers, and it's a great way to start class--in my experience, if I give students the opportunity to use their phones right away it's almost as if the urge gets flushed out of their system and they're less likely to, as someone once put it, "Look at their crotch and smile".
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Friday, April 11, 2014
Here We Go
I've got a digital stack of 70 papers to get through. And then 90 more coming in the next two weeks. What happened to this semester?
But the thing that's most intimidating? Organizing a class that I've been teaching for 4 years into modules.
I love the idea of modules; particularly the idea that they should make my class scheduling more fluid. (I'm totally someone who freaks out about having to switch from a MWF schedule to a TTh schedule.) And I do like to organize things: I used to work at a coffee shop/laundry mat/video rental place and organizing movies was my favorite aspect of the job. I like a good spreadsheet. I love index cards (see the bottom of the page for a great Anne Lamott take on index cards). In fact, I'd like to map the course out with index cards, but I left my trusty pile in my desk and I'm in Grand Rapids at the Faith and Writing Festival (ducking out at lunch to blog).
The actual sitting down and doing thing is what I'm not looking forward to. But the time is here, right?
"I have index cards and pens all over the house—by the bed, in the bathroom, in the kitchen, by the phones, and I have them in the glove compartment of my car. I carry one with me in my back pocket when I take my dog for a walk. In fact, I carry it folded lengthwise, if you need to know, so that, God forbid, I won’t look bulky. You may want to consider doing the same. I don’t even know you, but I bet you have enough on your mind without having to worry about whether or not you look bulky. So whenever I am leaving the house without my purse—in which there are actual notepads, let alone index cards—I fold an index card lengthwise in half, stick it in my back pocket along with a pen, and head out, knowing that if I have an idea, or see something lovely or strange or for any reason worth remembering, I will be able to jot down a couple of words to remind me of it. Sometimes, if I overhear or think of an exact line of dialogue or a transition, I write it down verbatim. I stick the card back in my pocket. I might be walking along the salt marsh, or out at Phoenix Lake, or in the express line at Safeway, and suddenly I hear something wonderful that makes me want to smile or snap my fingers—as if it has just come back to me—and I take out my index card and scribble it down." -- Anne Lamott
But the thing that's most intimidating? Organizing a class that I've been teaching for 4 years into modules.
I love the idea of modules; particularly the idea that they should make my class scheduling more fluid. (I'm totally someone who freaks out about having to switch from a MWF schedule to a TTh schedule.) And I do like to organize things: I used to work at a coffee shop/laundry mat/video rental place and organizing movies was my favorite aspect of the job. I like a good spreadsheet. I love index cards (see the bottom of the page for a great Anne Lamott take on index cards). In fact, I'd like to map the course out with index cards, but I left my trusty pile in my desk and I'm in Grand Rapids at the Faith and Writing Festival (ducking out at lunch to blog).
The actual sitting down and doing thing is what I'm not looking forward to. But the time is here, right?
"I have index cards and pens all over the house—by the bed, in the bathroom, in the kitchen, by the phones, and I have them in the glove compartment of my car. I carry one with me in my back pocket when I take my dog for a walk. In fact, I carry it folded lengthwise, if you need to know, so that, God forbid, I won’t look bulky. You may want to consider doing the same. I don’t even know you, but I bet you have enough on your mind without having to worry about whether or not you look bulky. So whenever I am leaving the house without my purse—in which there are actual notepads, let alone index cards—I fold an index card lengthwise in half, stick it in my back pocket along with a pen, and head out, knowing that if I have an idea, or see something lovely or strange or for any reason worth remembering, I will be able to jot down a couple of words to remind me of it. Sometimes, if I overhear or think of an exact line of dialogue or a transition, I write it down verbatim. I stick the card back in my pocket. I might be walking along the salt marsh, or out at Phoenix Lake, or in the express line at Safeway, and suddenly I hear something wonderful that makes me want to smile or snap my fingers—as if it has just come back to me—and I take out my index card and scribble it down." -- Anne Lamott
Saturday, April 5, 2014
The Trouble with Online Anything
In junior high, we were required to keep a daily planner with all of our assignments marked. I always failed. I could do the assignments (usually late), I generally paid attention in class, and I was a pretty low maintenance student otherwise (I was a little goofy, but I don't think I was on the Ben Franklin Junior High Most Wanted list). It's no wonder I spend a good chunk of my time writing fiction now--I've always been someone who lived most of the time in my own head. So remembered what was due and when has always been a bane for me.
Fast forward: Now, I'm the teacher and, though I married a wonderful woman with stellar calendar skills, very little of that skill has rubbed off on me. In a face-to-face classroom, on a day-to-day basis, I still have trouble remembering what's due and when--and I'm the one assigning the work. What I'm hoping for most in this new adventure into online teaching is that I'll be required to focus more on the pre-teaching and curriculum development and that that planning will help me maintain a consistent schedule in my classroom--both online and, in the future, in the classroom.
My fear, I suppose, links back to my own personality. If I have trouble remembering to pay attention to the world that I'm actually walking through, then the digital world has even more potential to slip my mind. One of my goals over the past year of teaching has been to outline the each class's schedule before class even starts; just writing it in the upper left-hand of the board is a good way to let them know what's coming and remind me what I'm supposed to cover. The nice thing about online teaching is that part of the pedagogy seems to be built in. Now it will just be a matter of remembering to walk into the digital classroom. That Dr. Ragan piece was a particularly helpful reminder that I'll need to be present in the classroom, that online courses don't simply run themselves.
Fast forward: Now, I'm the teacher and, though I married a wonderful woman with stellar calendar skills, very little of that skill has rubbed off on me. In a face-to-face classroom, on a day-to-day basis, I still have trouble remembering what's due and when--and I'm the one assigning the work. What I'm hoping for most in this new adventure into online teaching is that I'll be required to focus more on the pre-teaching and curriculum development and that that planning will help me maintain a consistent schedule in my classroom--both online and, in the future, in the classroom.
My fear, I suppose, links back to my own personality. If I have trouble remembering to pay attention to the world that I'm actually walking through, then the digital world has even more potential to slip my mind. One of my goals over the past year of teaching has been to outline the each class's schedule before class even starts; just writing it in the upper left-hand of the board is a good way to let them know what's coming and remind me what I'm supposed to cover. The nice thing about online teaching is that part of the pedagogy seems to be built in. Now it will just be a matter of remembering to walk into the digital classroom. That Dr. Ragan piece was a particularly helpful reminder that I'll need to be present in the classroom, that online courses don't simply run themselves.
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