Tuesday, August 05, 2014
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Social bookmarking with Diigo
I'm continually struck by the intellectual communities that develop in my online courses. I stress intellectual communities, because so much of their relationships end up being framed around their work in the course, around their writing and conversations. (To the online instruction naysayers: I wonder perhaps if these relationships are even more intellectually robust than onsite communities, based as they are around reading and writing.)
I think a major component of my role as Online Writing Teacher (it's been a while, so I figure I'm due for an eponymous shout-out) is to provide my students with digital tools to help facilitate these types of connections. Social bookmarking applications are great for this. There are a numerous options and they are all straightforward, but I particularly like Diigo.
What is Diigo? Diigo is Web-based tool that helps you organize, categorize, and share Websites and other content. The Diigo About page lays it out nicely:
Like most of us, every day I get tons of emails with links to stuff that I want to remember or save, but I don’t always have a good, efficient way to file/store that information.With Diigo, you can save content and then mark it with tags and commentary and easily store sites by category. And you can readily share everything with others.
All of this functionality makes Diigo excellent for your classes. Using the free teacher console, you can create a Diigo group for your class and invite students to it in a non-intrusive way. From there, you and your students can easily share materials, annotate them, and tag them. Group members receive a once-a-day email update so you don’t have to remember to go and seek out the info. Of course, while students are working with Diigo, they are also learning about the possibilities for sharing such material in digital environments, thinking through rationales for identifying, tagging, and categorizing content as well as being introduced to other communities of learners.
I think it's a valuable, powerful tool. On this site, a teacher-blogger describes "13 reasons teachers should use Diigo," including that Diigo "has tools that encourage students to collaborate with others to analyze, critique, and evaluate websites" and that "by joining groups of like-minded users... Diigo allows you to gain access to the ‘collective intelligence’ of the internet." Teaching online leads us, inevitably, I think, into issues of how to manage digital content, and the goals of our instruction need to includ facilitating conversations about how to talk about that information. Social bookmarking tools like Diigo help us accomplish those goals more effectively.
Friday, March 28, 2014
“Running Themes” on course message boards
This winter, I taught a graduate course for Drexel’s School of Ed: Using and Integrating Learning Technologies. The students were smart and hard-working, and they cranked on our message boards (through Bb Learn) all term. Through their efforts, I realized that I could easily and productively change my usual time-bound discussion thread approach, using the simple "walllessness" of online learning to build conversation spaces that ran all term.
This was a great aha moment for me. As I’ve described on this blog in some detail (e.g., see http://onlinewritingteacher.blogspot.com/2005_10_01_archive.html), I assign message boards in weekly “frames.” While I feel I do provide students with excellent thinking and writing opportunities, the conversations are organized and thus tend to exist within the constraints of week 1, week 2, etc.
That's pretty limiting. As onsite classrooms are bound by walls, my discussions were bound by weeks. When a week ended, normally the conversation would fade too. Sometimes I’ve extended conversations into a second and maybe third week, and I also use “general” threads – such as “Tips Advice Resources” – for other conversations, but our message boards are mainly controlled by time markers.
In the winter course, we had a couple of topics that kept re-emerging, so I did something simple: I opened up threads in a course forum called “Running Themes.” Students, in fulfilling their weekly requirements, were welcome to post in a Running Theme thread instead for some of their posts. And they did. They continued, in our case, to want to talk more about MOOCs or "What makes a good online/hybrid (blended) teacher?" Often, by the way, they would reframe our ongoing conversations about these topics based on current readings, building from dialogue in the weekly posts.
In retrospect, this was obvious. As I said, why was I constricting students? It didn’t make sense in online learning, which has the great advantage over onsite learning that it can naturally and easily extend dialogue. Conversations can happen in parallel, and they don't need to end when the bell rings at 2:00. Different students can dig into areas of high interest particular to them and enjoy the luxury of extending conversations after they've had time to percolate. Even if you have a tight, required-post type pedagogy, like I do, your messages boards can still be fluid and organic. (If you're worried that students will use Running Themes to excess and won't stay up with current material, it's easy to still require some posts in the weekly forums.)
Running Themes. I’m really happy with this idea and will create ongoing asynchronous conversation spaces in all of my courses.
Thursday, January 30, 2014
Addressing MOOCs with the CCCC OWI Position Statement
Friday, November 29, 2013
Writing MOOCs -- what are they good for?
If you follow higher education even a little, you know about MOOCs: Massive Open Online Courses. These courses – a look at early MOOCs is here – have been promoted for all sorts of reasons. I’m not against MOOCs, but, like others who are wondering if this trend will run its course, I don’t want to get too far ahead of ourselves.
First off, these courses represent, by and large, technologically-facilitated ways to deliver lots of content to lots of people. And why not? Schools have been looking for ways to streamline content delivery for a long time, including the well-entrenched giant lecture hall experience. Shifts to distribution-of-knowledge have always been viewed with skepticism. I mean, the book, writing itself, was once seen as a threat to traditional oral knowledge distribution systems, yet we now live in a time when sitting alone reading a book is a mark of erudition. Things change.
But a MOOC to learn statistics or history or poetry or game theory is one thing. Bring on that slick, video content! Learning the skill of writing in such an environment is different. Several institutions are offering writing MOOCs for thousands of students. Some are being run by quality, experienced writing faculty. I had personal experience with one of these courses, and while I remain underwhelmed by these efforts, I believe MOOC-like thinking might yet drive some ideas for writing instruction:
1) Improving the online writing group. If I'm working on a high-stakes writing project and you are working on a high-stakes writing project, we could get together, even by email, and work together quite productively to help one another, yes? MOOCs might help us develop new tech platforms and logistics for facilitating such interactions. Maybe, even better, we will break through with new approaches, pedagogies, and philosophies about peer review.
2) Parallel/"piggyback" writing experiences. I'm putting "experiences" in Italics for a reason -- I'm not thinking of courses. MOOCs are helping us think deeply about how students are educated. Many disciplines lament their students' writing, yet how to fix it within a curriculum? Adding courses is not an option in many cases. Students at Drexel, for instance, are already faced with a tight curriculum. But what if you created an online writing experience -- again, not a course -- that students could encounter in parallel with their other courses? Students could "unlock" progressive components while working on documents and writing skills integral to their success in their particular program. This wouldn't be Massive. It wouldn't be Open. But it could provide students with a structured way to help students write. I have been working with Drexel's School of Ed on exploring something like this for graduate education programs.
3) Rethinking gateways and competencies. Drexel's College of Nursing and Health Professions has been using what some have been calling, somewhat unfortunately, "mini-MOOCs." (Forget the mini-massive contradiction; the idea is good.) Students can enroll in a small cohort for a kind of free gateway course. I'm oversimplifying, but if students succeed in the course and then enroll in the program, they can then be awarded credit for the experience. Lots of students want equivalency credits for writing, and I think this is a potential way to address this problem, which I found nettlesome during my time as Drexel's Director of First-Year Writing. If students can enroll in an open course, they can demonstrate proficiency in ways that could later be counted/certified.
4) Providing highly focused writing instructional experiences. I don't think much of a composition course let alone an entire writing curriculum as a MOOC, but what about running an ongoing four-week course in creating job documents (e.g., cover letter, resume, thank you letter -- very focused)? This course could use the power of peer review productively (and perhaps its development could even be backed/supported by an online resume company). You could design similar courses for highly focused writing contexts.
5) Assessment of student learning. We still have a lot to learn about how teaching is connected with student improvement in writing. Some folks in composition are looking at this very question, based on the early writing MOOCs. The MOOC delivery model may open new avenues of inquiry for us.
Many ideas and technologies are fueling "massification." We, writing teachers, should be working to develop ways of using these concepts and tools, because, if we don't, without a doubt, ideas not of our own will be imposed upon us.
Monday, September 30, 2013
If we're going to teach a hybrid -- then do it!
In the midst of all the macro trends in educational technology, hybrids continue to gather traction, often in ways we don't even think of as hybrid, such as the flipped classroom. (I like this little infographic about flipping from Knewton.)
As I wrote, geez, about three years ago, I think we teachers in general are continuing to seek optimal ways to use the hybrid learning model, finding the best integrations of the in-the-room and out-of-the-room parts of the education experience.
In embracing this quest, we have to be creative in how we do everything in a hybrid course, from how we handle readings to how we manage student conversations to how we administer assessments. Sometimes, I think when we conceptualize flipping, hybridization, or blending we focus too much on making the most of that precious time we are all together in that room at the expense of thinking how we might make the most of that precious solo contemplative time writers spend inventing, composing, and reviewing away from that room.
Also, a "hybrid" does not have to be a solely digital model. Instead a hybrid could involve providing students with time for other kinds of out-of-class exploration. Myself, I think of a lot of service learning initiatives as hybrids. At Drexel, we had a first-year program we called English Alive that framed the city of Philadelphia as a living classroom, museums and all. Of course, now students in these types of exploration-type hybrid writing courses, with the portable hardware and software they have, can do lots of composing in the moment during these experiences.
I know I continue to struggle (as of this term with my 75-25 kind-of hybrid course) to think about what I can do so students are engaging in substantive activities that maximize the time and interface of each environment. Say you want to give a quiz. Is it worth it to give a quick online quiz? Or is there some pedagogical benefit to administering the quiz right there in class (as I think there is)? In OWI, of course, we want our students to write. Should writing always be an out-of-class experience? What could you learn from writing together? (And how about reading collectively?) Is a class discussion better in the onsite give-and-take or in the contemplative message board space?
These are fundamental teaching strategy questions. But they lead us to deeper reflection about things like how to maximize teacher persona for the different environments or of investigating how to make the most of students' "on" times. How, in essence, do we achieve a true blending of experiences?
Again, a lot of this sounds like "flipping," and that's fine, because the original call and challenge of flipping emerged from a desire to make the most of our teaching time. If you are teaching or better yet preparing a hybrid, reflect on what students do best where. I feel we have never been better positioned through our technologies and our pedagogies than now to meet them there.
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
I’ve had many opportunities over the past year to talk in depth with colleagues from around the country about teaching writing online, and it's made me realize that there’s a good question for the online writing teacher to return to: Why are you teaching writing in these digital environments?
What is driving your teaching of writing online? Are you doing it because you want to? Because you have to? Is this a step in your professional development? Curiosity? Finances?
While self-reflection itself is a good thing, this is not just an effort to know thyself. The answers to these questions can inform what we do in the classroom – and they may help us to uncover in ourselves what I think of as an under appreciated aspect of teaching: teacher satisfaction and, well, happiness. (And our institutions should help us; see OWI Principle 12: "Institutions should foster teacher satisfaction in online writing courses as rigorously as they do for student and programmatic success.")
These questions about our own motivation can also lead to similar queries about programmatic OWI initiatives. In the midst of the mad rush to, ah, I have to say it, explore MOOCs, schools themselves might engage in some productive conversations about origins and goals. Why have schools and their programs explored OWI? What is to be gained for their students? What is to be gained for their faculty? How might OWI shift programmatic and institutional identity?
I believe that understanding who you are as a teacher comes first in your migration to teaching writing online, and part of that understanding is your motivation. Do you love writing? Do you love working closely with students? Are you are seeking the fame and fortune associated with first-year writing instruction? Schools can grapple with the same type of issues for their programs.
As we work through the details first of learning to teach online and then refining our pedagogy, it is worth pausing and asking that core question: Why am I doing this? The answer, carefully considered, perhaps on a slow summer day, will I believe help us do what we do more effectively for ourselves and our students.