I wrote this blog post with John Kennedy, coordinator of UTK’s Office of Student Media. He is in the same boat as many– suddenly moving courses to a synchronous video conference format. Here are some thoughts we felt might be useful to others starting out in video conference suddenly. Feel free to add comments. We would love to incorporate other voices.
- Craig (email@example.com)
- John (John.Kennedy@utk.edu)
Before you start…
Restart your router. Pushing the power button and unplug it. Wait 20 second. Plug it back in. 99% of lag problems are solved by simply restarting the router because it clears out lots of temp files clogging your connection.
Do a speed test. This will tell you if you have enough bandwidth to handle video conferences such as ZOOM. Ookla is the one I use. I find connection less than 10 mbps can get choppy in video conferences.
Install those updates. Update requests can pop-up during teaching, or can inhibit software from working with peripherals like your camera or microphone. Simply starting up a video session on your own can clue you into features that might require a system re-boot to get moving. Testing out the settings or preferences ares is far easier when you’ve got time before class than when you have students waiting or class is starting in a few moments.
After you get going…
Set expectations in the first session. The first one or two classes might have some technical hiccups on both the teacher and student end. Use this time to iron out any difficulties, but more importantly, negotiating clear expectations for your students and yourself reduces stress and the types of miscommunication that can sour the learning experience. The class can help decide communication, timeliness, and ground rules and gain ownership and buy-in in the process.
Keep text communication short and to the point. The default tone of electronic written communication in negative. Your witty sarcasm does not carry over, and the care with which you select that perfect word for an email is often lost as learners scurry to complete tasks. The simpler, the better.
Visuals help. Learners have difficulty using writing to communicate complicated things, but they are good at online play. A visual meme that captures course content goes a long way. If they build it, share it.
Describe what you’re doing when you teach. For example, “I am opening a browser to share the website that contains the syllabus I want to show you.” This lets learners know that you’re in the process of teaching and also provides vocabulary they may need. Video conference silence is louder than silence in a classroom setting because learners cannot see what you are doing. Describing what you are doing online is also difficult, and you will struggle a little at first. However, it is far more difficult for your learners to describe what they did when x or y went wrong, but they need that skill to explain to you where things went wrong. This practice is both vocabulary building and modeling.
Feature fatigue is real. The use of too many digital features can confuse learners, or exhaust them. Keep tech use to a comfortable level in order to move the focus of the interaction off learning the tool and onto learning the content.
Presence is everything. Most tech failures can be overcome simply by being there. Being there means: answering email quickly, even if it says, “I got your mail; your question is not easily answered in text, please ask this is our live session.” Being there means: Grading when you said you would grade. Being there is checking for understanding in live sessions when you see faces that express confusion.
Pick the right tool for the job. Skill in online teaching is using tools in coordination; skill in online teaching is not knowing all the features of a given digital tool. Use the right tool for the job it will feel look easy.
Appreciate a new perspective on your learners. Some students will perform more comfortably in online settings than in face to face settings. Some will find it more challenging because the skills that made them stand out before do not carry over. Be prepared to recognize that with the media change, will come a perspective change, both for you and for your learners.
After you have been teaching synchronously online a while….
Take breaks. Taking breaks every hour will be better on your eyes, and that goes for live sessions as well. Since your screen doesn’t move, your depth perception weakens as you teach for months online. Walks are good for eyes as well as legs.
Consider an adjustable / standing desk. Sitting introduces all sorts of health issues.
Solicit the questions you should be asking but are not. By asking learners what you should be asking them, you open a number of options to improve your teaching, give yourself insight into how they experience your work, and most importantly, demonstrate that you are invested in their experience. Many of my advancements in teaching, both in tech choices and cognitive strategies, came from learner suggestions, or a discussion with learners about ways I might improve a particular lesson or approach. Learners often appreciate simply being asked, suggesting that their opinions matter.
Create a frequently ask questions (FAQ) area. Similar questions will be asked, and your desire to answer them in individual emails will decrease with time. Also, many students will shy away to ask questions in a larger group settings, but will ask plenty in emails. Create a central repository for questions and answers and continue to add to it with time. By broadcasting your answer prior to entering it on your FAQ, you credit the student who asked the question and validate their participation without forcing a social interaction upon those who might prefer not step forward.
On-boarding is the process of moving from hired to started. I imagine this post will grow over the years, but here is what I have so far. This post is to help faculty new to UT Knoxville get moving with their digital assets they will need for teaching our distance learners.
At some point in time you will get a net ID from the business administrator in the department. Thereafter, you will need to follow the links in this document to set up all your digital resources at UT Knoxville. Your net ID is your default email address until you change the email address in the UT directory. Your net ID and your email address do not have to be the same; many prefer they be different. Complete the following steps in the following order for the smoothest experience.
- You will need to create your Net Id password first, before you do anything. Start here: https://oit.utk.edu/general/areyounew/netid-and-email-accounts/
- Two-factor authentication is necessary at UT. You will need your cell phone whenever you log into the system. Start with your two-factor authentication here: https://help.utk.edu/kb/index.php?func=show&e=2793
- Thereafter you will need to set up your course in CANVAS. That URL is here: https://utk.instructure.com/
- Our program is synchronous, live via ZOOM video conference. You will want your own ZOOM pro account. A ZOOM pro account may take 24 hours to activate after you submit a request, so be proactive. To create that from your net ID, go here: https://oit.utk.edu/teachingtools/liveonline/zoom-getting-started/
- I think most instructors will get a Net ID that is somewhat cryptic and hard to remember. For this reason, I suggest using an alias, such as your name or initials, so it’s easier for everyone to remember. To change the appearance of your email address to be different from your net ID, edit your directory information here: https://help.utk.edu/kb/index.php?func=show&e=1997
- Change your password every 6 months. UT Knoxville requires this; however, if you do so off campus, you can re-use previous passwords. If you change your password while VPN or on campus, the system will not allow you to re-use past passwords. https://ds.utk.edu/passwords/default.asp
There is a point in the doctoral student experience in IT where the student goes from having ideas to having notions. I’ve seen this discursive acquisition again and again, and I am beginning to feel that it’s a kind of shibboleth. It marks a significant change. While we might joke about having notions instead of ideas, hedging one’s arguments is a sign of a gradual progression towards a new way of thinking, and I dare say, a different disposition. A scholar’s discourse is often hedged like this because they have encountered time and again the limits of claims.
Hedging and limiting claims is the discourse of a scholar, and is an honest sign, in the signaling theory sense. It signals that the learner has changed in identity and behavior, and more importantly, in the way they think. The change happens little by little, and the change is far deeper than the milestones toward degree completion might suggest. This idea of gradual progression is not new, or profound. The 7-year-old artist’s illustration is spot on. We know pretty early on that we can do it, and doing it takes a long time. However, by the time most people get to doc study, I think they forget what they learned when they were seven. I know I did. I felt I knew far less about many things when I graduated than when I arrived at doc study. Inside you it changes, little by little.
Making big changes in the way one thinks is not why people come to PhD programs. People come for a credential. If one works hard and is lucky, change happens, but I don’t think people come to PhD programs to change. In fact, I think when they come to PhD programs, they need to be pretty resistant to change because of the grit it takes simply to get this far. However, attaining a PhD credential, and learning to think and talk like a scholar are very different things. They only coincide if the learner eventually accepts the change. That is not easy to do, because what they came for was the credential, not the change.
Therein lies the rub. The value of the credential lies in the likelihood that this change in thinking and disposition has taken place. The change includes attitude, intellectual curiosity and grit. No one hires a PhD not to do critical research, and critical research manifests in publication. Of course, the context of the research might change, and the publishing process might manifest in different forms, but the essential thinking remains. These attitudes, curiosities and grit result in an ability to write with precision, consider and reflect in multiple ways, and rewrite until a difficult task is complete. This part of the curriculum is all hidden, and at the same time, the skills that will eventually convince those who work with this newly minted PhD whether or not the skill accompanies the credential.
PhD programs should scaffold this hidden curriculum, and find ways to recognize the more pivotal aspects of change when they become visible. The nuts and bolts of PhD milestones tend to garner the most recognition, if any recognition happens at all. Conceiving of a study worthy of investigation, grappling with all its complexity, and negotiating the politics of a work environment during this process is unreasonably difficult. But it is the attitude, initiative, disposition and perspective that are the real learning strides. These take place while learners have full lives with all the other complexities one would encounter. Doctoral candidates have spouses, parents, and kids. Their lives are complex and more intricate than one can manage to create by the undergraduate years. Programs attempt to resolve this with one credit doc seminars meant to scaffold progress early on in the degree program, but I think that serves as more of an orientation than development. What should happen are high-fives in research group, or advisor-student research meeting when the students start having notions about what they are studying, take the initiative on a research task, or carefully negotiate how something might be accomplished strategically.
A few years ago, I wrote a blog post about three learning interventions that I particularly admired: The Kanda Self-Access Center, The IU Plagiarism Test, and the Texas A&M Catpals reading program. This time I want to talk about the EPC awards. I want to frame it as a learning intervention. We don’t normally think of this sort of thing as a learning intervention, but it is. It is a special kind of learning intervention that again, is in school but out of class. If you’re reading this, you should go, and here’s why, IMHO.
Awards are mechanisms that increase motivation, and in learning, motivation is our most prized learning outcome, second to only one, identity. Awards are not just about feeling good. Rather, “When people are given an award, they are likely to work better and be more engaged… They have higher intrinsic motivation.” (Bruno Frey). Awards are given in ceremonies, not in private. Awards are very social things. The power of an award is carried in its social recognition and appreciation. An award leaves behind a bond between the award giver and the award receiver. We see lots of organizations that capitalize on this bond. The military is the obvious one, but surely not the only one that you can think of quickly. A retirement is a recognition in the same sense. There’s a big different between retired and stopped working.
An award has a unique value for educators’ most prized learning outcome, identity. Especially when given by an academic department, and award can help not only the learner that gets the award, but those who see it as a potential result of their own study in the future. The reason I call attention to this particular learning tactic is because it addressed a teaching challenge that is daunting. Scholars are remarkably hard to nurture. To start, these are intelligent people who are quite wary of embarking on a task not worth doing. Scholarship can be intimidating, isolating, and frustrating. The most common feedback the doctoral student gets is the revision. Complexities abound, and are often mired in conflicting perspectives held by other advanced scholars who are simultaneously correct but nevertheless apparently in-congruent. Evidence the dissertations committee. I once joked that doctoral students must be pretty thick to need a committee of four to teach them through a single study. A close friend commented, “It speaks to the complexity of the learning that no one scholar could hope to accomplish such instruction of an early scholar completely alone.” I am not saying that one must identify as a scholar to get a PhD. It may serve some people well to simply get the degree. However, I am saying that worthwhile doctoral study changes someone’s identity to that of the scholar. The change is a kind of motivation to keep learning. A line of scholarship, informed curiosity, not simply a study.
Attending an event like this is a step towards that identity. Entering a community of scholars as a scholar is different than entering such a community from the outside, or leaving the community once the paper is handed in. One does not have to win the award for the award to have effect. Just being there, being part of it, lends to that new identity through the potential of the work undertaken. Seeing others win can inspire– sometimes it takes seeing the other person ride the bike to know you can ride the bike.
IT678, IT693 &; LEES 602: Research groups, research apprentices, and the unbearably vague process of doctoral training
It’s a common misconception that PhD study is about the courses you have to take. It’s not. It’s about the work that you do, but it’s hard to find the roads into that work early in one’s program. Sometimes courses help with that, sometimes they don’t. I have heard that PhD programs in other countries contain no coursework at all. That would be even more disorientating. A PhD is disorienting enough even with the rudimentary road map coursework provides. No coursework at all sounds like bicycling with one’s eyes closed, in the dark, in the fog, with your flashlight turned off, on the wrong side of the road, and a little tipsy (that’s Ray Bradbury’s description of the writing experience, btw). In education, we often try to mimic PhD training in the hard sciences by replacing the “lab” experience with the research group (RG) experience. We compound that confusion by trying to tie that experience again to coursework. Unwary doc students are then left to navigate the process on their own. This blog post is in response to questions about the LDT PhD program’s courses: IT678, IT693 and LEES 602 that endeavor to integrate the RG experience into coursework in LDT.
The purpose of research groups (RGs) is to learn to do research. In the hard sciences one hears, “I work in so-n-so’s lab.” It’s a similar dynamic here in LDT. The research group is where you get your real training. It’s where you learn from others, share your frustrations, and find mentorship from both more advanced students and your faculty mentor. Eventually, RG is where lead your own research project when you are ready. While the adviser is the one running the research group, he or she is not likely the one doing the talking.
RGs move both intellectually with the field, and physically with the resources. In education we don’t actually get a dedicated space— we can barely afford a conference room. In the hard sciences learners might gather in a permanent lab, but in education, we need to be a little more resourceful. I have seen RGs survive through many changing locations, and even into cafe’s and restaurants. I know of a faculty member who ran one out of her living room for a year after a devastating car accident prevented her from getting t campus. It’s not about the space; it’s about the people and the work. The RG is the primary locus of advisement and learning in a PhD program in instructional technology; I imagine it is so in most education fields. Some programs contain only RG courses. Often RGs will have a reading list for first semester students. Sometimes students will read through content together and meet separately from the main group. I don’t quite have a formal RG nor a reading list to start in on. Crafting such could easily be a RG task.
RG’s don’t really end. They run consecutive semesters. RGs also run through the summer, regardless of registrations. If a program is large it might have several RG’s being led by different faculty. Sometimes faculty will share a RG. If a program is small, likely there is only one RG per faculty member. If you are in a large doctoral program, one can visit several. If you are in a small doctoral program, visiting another RG might mean changing to a different doctoral program within that department, or enrolling in a different program altogether. Sometimes RGs are temporary, constructed simply around one line of research that once published, does not re-emerge.
In a RG, you bring your own voice to the current work of the group. However, RGs usually rely heavily on the expertise that the adviser brings to the group. Often, it’s a methodological approach that unifies the group, and students voice areas where they are interested in exploring. Sometimes a current even or development may cause a RG focuses entirely on one topic the adviser is into. For example, when a RG gets a grant. Some advisers will run more than one RG because the two groups deal with different topics. I tell my students to bring their topic to everything they study, in every course they take. The same goes for research groups.
RGs are sometimes framed as apprenticeship experiences, but different faculty may envision the exact realization of apprenticeship differently. The actual apprentice experience will vary in access ot the mentor and in productivity of the group. My perspective on RGs was crafted by experiences in several groups at Indiana University between 2007-2012, most of which were quite productive. However, none of the groups I attended had foci on my content area– discourse analysis in instructional communications. So, I always brought a discourse topic to the group, and the group investigated it with whatever methods they were using. It is unwise to look to a RG to assume your topic are as the primary focus of the group; instead, embed your topic area as part of the agenda of the group by framing it within their foci. For example, I was in a group that used conditional probabilities to generate claims about teaching and learning (MAPSAT under Ted Frick at Indiana University). I created a discourse protocol that was then used in conditional probability research and later published; we called it the anonymity study. My dissertation was also conceived in conversations within that RG. For a RG on design under Elizabeth Boling, I studied design discourse and worked on articles revolving around the method of knowledge building that became termed as the instructional design case. My focus on discourse within instructional design context was never the topic of the group, but always the topic that I was pursuing. In fact, the focus of the RG has very little bearing on the research topic of a doctoral student in instructional tech. The studies in completed in these RGs were years in the making, and in each group I had to read some foundational literature in the early years. But that didn’t mean the RG determines by topic.
RG participation does not always directly parallel course registrations. You don’t have to be registered for credits to attend a RG, but once you start coming, you’ll likely need to come well beyond the end of your registered time in order to finish the studies you started. Some ABD candidates stop attending RG to focus on drafting the dissertation, some continue attending to provide structure to their progress. Dissertation time is always stressful- some RGs help alleviate that stress by providing access to other students, and the support one needs to keep going. With so many variations and customization to life situations , faculty interests, and student objectives, many people from outside, or just starting, see the RG process as unbearably vague. It can be, that’s for sure. One expectation that I have seen consistent across faculty expectations is that with time, a learners’ role is expected to become more independent and leader oriented.
Participation in a RG is intended to be progressive. First semester as an observer, the second formulating your research design, then collecting data, and finally writing it up. This can, and often does, span several semesters. Sometimes a certain task may span semesters because of complications. Oftentimes, universities will require RG credits be taken in consecutive semesters; I don’t believe UT has the requirement, perhaps due to our small size. Typically, I have seen a number of PhD students attend RGs outside their actually registration times. Some for several years, consecutively.
The RG experience does not have to start right way. While one can sign up for RG credits whenever they want, I would advise students do so later in their program of studies. For my group, I would hope to see a new member have completed ALL the research methods and at least one of the LDT advanced core before registering for any advanced RG credits. Have said that, it is never too early to attend a research group and get involved. In my own first year I was in a rather large PhD program and there were several to choose from so I attended as many as I could. I then made an informed decision. While this presented faculty with the image that I was perhaps a stray dog, or unwanted doc student, it afforded me a wide range of experiences to choose from. I learned a ton from Charlie Reigeluth, Curt Bonk, Tom Brush and Elizabeth Boling’s groups—even though my dissertation came out of Ted Frick’s group.
Finally, nothing can be more important than approaching your RG learning with intention. Some students perform poorly in research group because no tasks are assigned, nothing is ever “due.” Without intention and motivation, doc students can easily loose the interest of their peers, flounder, or miss much out of the experience because they don’t volunteer, take initiative, or eventually lead. I’ve another blog post for that, called Strategizing Group Research, that offers some of the strategies I saw in various groups that were consistently performing well, publishing research, and getting students involved.
Teaching in the evening, it’s often difficult to find a colleague to observe my teaching. Here I have video recorded a typical lesson in IT 521. This served a few different purposes. (1) A few learners were missing from the lesson and needed to watch it, and (2) I need a colleague to watch it and be able to run it at higher speeds to make the observation task easier. (I can’t imagine watching a whole three-hour class just to write up a peer observation!) I have also always wanted to have a lesson to share for the occasional inquiry. So here it is, week three from IT 521: Instructional Design and Technology as a Profession. The lesson covers a brief overview of learning theories – just enough to keep an instructional designer informed but not overloaded.
I learned a few things in attempting this task. Primarily, I learned that simple video editing software, at least that which ships with the basic windows machine in 2019, is oddly interlinked with photo editing software. This standard video editing software has a limit of about 35 minutes of video time that can be comfortably finalized into a viewable file (mp4). The 2:40 lesson ended up being workable only in 4 different files. Breaking them up provided more user control in the end. I do prefer separate files for sections of the lesson. Excessive scrolling is obviously tedious. Multiple files forces the viewer to open and close different parts of the lesson to take in the whole thing, but I think it also empowers the viewer to get where they want faster.
There is this perspective in education called the deficit model, deficit view, deficit perspective, or some other combination of deficit and some visually oriented term. What learners cannot yet do, or where they fail. It appears in practitioner publications like Edutiopia as well as in scholarly journals. Essentially, the notion frames learners in terms of lacking skills or other knowledge; it foregrounds knowledge deficiencies. It is negative, and it is not an entirely new concept. In the larger picture of educational philosophy, there was once a rage against the notion of tabula rasa (blank slate) which was part of Freire’s theory of banking education, arguing that it is wrong. Learners do not start as blank slates. Everything come from somewhere. It all sounds like mere pontification until hits you in the face as a parent.
My daughter created the image on the right, and I immediately recognized learning strides. I was impressed that the illustration had not happened in school. Of course, my daughter is surrounded with art supplies from my doctoral advisor who is also a close friend, but she chose to use scrap school paper for this one- sketching an idea while at home. She knew this was not for production; rather, it was meant as a sketch, a learning tool. She documented a memory of a trip to Niagara Falls when discussions came up about another trip. Most importantly, she was not instructed to do this learning. My first thought after “cool!” was that if anyone else saw it, they might immediately jump on the inaccuracies rather than the successes.
I think there is more to the realization. Relative to other more grown up fields of study, instructional design is still working on sketches and learning. I think there’s a bit of bad press that might be holding the field back, and all too often it looks wiser to give up in the face of others recognizing our errors. At the same time, we are still limiting our research to things that are meant to appear like drawings other people did. I am less worried about ID learners not being recognized for their value. In fact, they are doing quite well. I do not know I can say so much for their teachers. Are we recognizing our successes and building on them?