With a view to the e-learning module of my MA programme next year, I have been gradually edging my way into the fast and frenzied parallel universe of technology-enabled learning. Much as I love certain aspects of technology, I have never been quite so painfully aware of what an old-fashioned milkmaid of a girl a really am. The more I commit myself to the inevitability of e-learning in the global classroom of the near future, the more apparent it is that I have a great deal to learn.
This week, Oman’s Sultan Qaboos University is hosting the “Moodle Majlis”, the first event in the region dedicated to the Moodle Open Source e-learning software. My adamant insistence on attending this event has set me on a steep learning curve over the past weeks, and the rarefied air of this future vision is dizzying. Today, in the first heady sessions, some staggering ideas surfaced. The implications for the educator are profound.
And yet, e-learning is still a pipe dream in my college, as in so many other educational environments. The question for us will be, what can we learn from e-learning that will benefit our students now; how do we prepare our students for lifelong, autonomous trad- and e-learning; and how do we begin to educate our educators in this brave new literacy for a sometimes daunting new world?
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
The People vs. The Papers
Papers have their value. To be honest, paperwork is what I am naturally inclined towards and effortlessly pretty good at. Papers you can control, shuffle, organize and file away, and in this miraculous era you can even keep digital copies. Papers, and their virtual alter egos, can come in extremely handy when we can refer back to them, modify them and, of course, gloat over their meticulous organization. Papers you can always depend on. Yes, papers are the part of my job that I am completely comfortable with.
And then there are people. While papers are valuable, people are invaluable- not without value but of immeasurable value. Priceless. There is simply no way to estimate what people, when they have vision, motivation and ability, can accomplish. But, to be honest, peoplework is something I am not naturally inclined towards, and have had to train myself in with stoic selflessness. Oddly enough, I have learnt to enjoy aspects of it, and it heartens me that my colleagues discuss their questions and quandaries, problems and plans with me. People, though, unlike papers, cannot be controlled, timed, filed away for later or, in extreme cases, sent to the Recycle Bin. (Not to mention the shredder.) Thus follows, as night the day, that the long-term investment of taking care of people can sometimes get in the way of the essential short-term paying of the paperwork piper.
Time is precious. Priceless. And certain paperwork needs to be done because that is the tangible measure of my job done. But the measure of my job well done is that the peoplework is taken care of. The price to pay is, quite often, paperwork in my free time. A high price. Priceless.
But so are people.
And then there are people. While papers are valuable, people are invaluable- not without value but of immeasurable value. Priceless. There is simply no way to estimate what people, when they have vision, motivation and ability, can accomplish. But, to be honest, peoplework is something I am not naturally inclined towards, and have had to train myself in with stoic selflessness. Oddly enough, I have learnt to enjoy aspects of it, and it heartens me that my colleagues discuss their questions and quandaries, problems and plans with me. People, though, unlike papers, cannot be controlled, timed, filed away for later or, in extreme cases, sent to the Recycle Bin. (Not to mention the shredder.) Thus follows, as night the day, that the long-term investment of taking care of people can sometimes get in the way of the essential short-term paying of the paperwork piper.
Time is precious. Priceless. And certain paperwork needs to be done because that is the tangible measure of my job done. But the measure of my job well done is that the peoplework is taken care of. The price to pay is, quite often, paperwork in my free time. A high price. Priceless.
But so are people.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Academia X-Rated
There are certain essential things that nobody ever teaches you. You just have to figure them out for yourself, because somehow the details are just too taboo to spell out.
Take academic writing, for instance. Yes, there is a plethora of information on how to write research papers. Yet somehow there is just nothing out there on how one goes from that intricate conceptual house of cards balanced on one’s little finger amidst the hurricane of daily life to a coherent academic text.
Perhaps this is because, when it comes to the proverbial crunch, writing is such a profoundly personal endeavour. Or perhaps it is because nobody dares to admit how much of this supposedly scientific process is, in the end, left to a feverish tango between a fickle, fickle muse and the unpredictable Duke of Hazard. The surrealist in me does not object to that fact. And the baker in me insists that the most important step in baking bread is turning away and leaving it to rise. Writing may be very similar.
All this is why today’s entry goes behind the curtain to expose the drafting process: frank and unadorned. Since writing is such a personal and lonely affair, I will not venture to call this the “right” way, (after all, there seems no evidence of any way whatsoever). But I do offer it as one route that can lead from the blank page to the printed manuscript. I will include my entire preparation process, current drafting procedure and remaining steps. The assignment is for a module that was taught in June, with a deadline on 30 November.
1. May: Preparatory reading and key concept summary of selected recommended textbooks, starting with the more general titles. Contact tutors for specific preparatory reading assignments, access and read.
2. June: Intensive summer school (2 weeks.) Daily review and assigned readings where viable and discussion with classmates. Receive assignment. After the summer school, review and file handouts and class notes. Remaining readings.
3. July: More specific readings gradually geared more to assignment. Two weeks of complete decadent rest.
4. August: Collect journal articles relevant to assignment. Categorize and read, making brief summaries of key concepts. Compile master bibliography of all resources, which can be taken away from rather than added to. (Bibliographies are the downfall of many a last-minute project: with foresight, that problem can be avoided.) Plot out a basic mindmap showing areas of interest.
5. September: Email rough outline with recommendations for tailoring to tutors. Complete final readings. (At this point I should interject: life goes to pieces in the throes of unwanted and impossible new job description, local religious customs and social meltdown. That’s the beauty of planning this process: even meltdown is not a catastrophe.) Transfer mindmap to a larger sheet of paper and expand with details and proposed word count. Pepper work area with post-its containing new discoveries and ideas. Stop at nothing.
6. October: Scan class notes again to ascertain tutors’ points of view. Re-examine assignment wording and ensure all aspects are addressed in proposed outline. Re-examine grading criteria and post in work area if possible, re-reading frequently. Transfer headings from outline to individual pages of an A4 notebook, including proposed word count for each section. SIT DOWN AT DESK AND BEGIN TO WRITE, LEAVING ALTERNATE LINES BLANK. Start with the easy bits and watch the magic happen. Mark uncertain references or facts in the margin with asterisks and keep writing. Take breaks as needed, getting away from the desk completely every few hours. Make time for the good life. When the text is complete, leave it for a day and celebrate. Return to the text, count the words and perform academic liposuction on the fluff. Make each word count with dense, rich meaning and eliminate what is not needed. Set up a formatted word processing document and transfer the edited text to computer. When complete, leave to sit. Return with a fresh mind and fresh eyes, editing where necessary. Double-check the word count. Ensure all footnotes, appendices and bibliography entries are complete. Leave to sit. Check again. Turn over to a trusted friend for proofreading. Check again.
7. November. Leave to sit. Check again. Print out final copy and hard copies and deliver to administrators by 7 November. If all else fails, there are three more weeks before the deadline. Celebrate and take a few days off. Begin preparatory reading for January module.
Perhaps not the most efficient of techniques, but it certainly covers most bases. By naming the steps and setting a time frame to them, the terrifying mysterious taboo is lifted. And that leaves us with academic writing: exposed.
Take academic writing, for instance. Yes, there is a plethora of information on how to write research papers. Yet somehow there is just nothing out there on how one goes from that intricate conceptual house of cards balanced on one’s little finger amidst the hurricane of daily life to a coherent academic text.
Perhaps this is because, when it comes to the proverbial crunch, writing is such a profoundly personal endeavour. Or perhaps it is because nobody dares to admit how much of this supposedly scientific process is, in the end, left to a feverish tango between a fickle, fickle muse and the unpredictable Duke of Hazard. The surrealist in me does not object to that fact. And the baker in me insists that the most important step in baking bread is turning away and leaving it to rise. Writing may be very similar.
All this is why today’s entry goes behind the curtain to expose the drafting process: frank and unadorned. Since writing is such a personal and lonely affair, I will not venture to call this the “right” way, (after all, there seems no evidence of any way whatsoever). But I do offer it as one route that can lead from the blank page to the printed manuscript. I will include my entire preparation process, current drafting procedure and remaining steps. The assignment is for a module that was taught in June, with a deadline on 30 November.
1. May: Preparatory reading and key concept summary of selected recommended textbooks, starting with the more general titles. Contact tutors for specific preparatory reading assignments, access and read.
2. June: Intensive summer school (2 weeks.) Daily review and assigned readings where viable and discussion with classmates. Receive assignment. After the summer school, review and file handouts and class notes. Remaining readings.
3. July: More specific readings gradually geared more to assignment. Two weeks of complete decadent rest.
4. August: Collect journal articles relevant to assignment. Categorize and read, making brief summaries of key concepts. Compile master bibliography of all resources, which can be taken away from rather than added to. (Bibliographies are the downfall of many a last-minute project: with foresight, that problem can be avoided.) Plot out a basic mindmap showing areas of interest.
5. September: Email rough outline with recommendations for tailoring to tutors. Complete final readings. (At this point I should interject: life goes to pieces in the throes of unwanted and impossible new job description, local religious customs and social meltdown. That’s the beauty of planning this process: even meltdown is not a catastrophe.) Transfer mindmap to a larger sheet of paper and expand with details and proposed word count. Pepper work area with post-its containing new discoveries and ideas. Stop at nothing.
6. October: Scan class notes again to ascertain tutors’ points of view. Re-examine assignment wording and ensure all aspects are addressed in proposed outline. Re-examine grading criteria and post in work area if possible, re-reading frequently. Transfer headings from outline to individual pages of an A4 notebook, including proposed word count for each section. SIT DOWN AT DESK AND BEGIN TO WRITE, LEAVING ALTERNATE LINES BLANK. Start with the easy bits and watch the magic happen. Mark uncertain references or facts in the margin with asterisks and keep writing. Take breaks as needed, getting away from the desk completely every few hours. Make time for the good life. When the text is complete, leave it for a day and celebrate. Return to the text, count the words and perform academic liposuction on the fluff. Make each word count with dense, rich meaning and eliminate what is not needed. Set up a formatted word processing document and transfer the edited text to computer. When complete, leave to sit. Return with a fresh mind and fresh eyes, editing where necessary. Double-check the word count. Ensure all footnotes, appendices and bibliography entries are complete. Leave to sit. Check again. Turn over to a trusted friend for proofreading. Check again.
7. November. Leave to sit. Check again. Print out final copy and hard copies and deliver to administrators by 7 November. If all else fails, there are three more weeks before the deadline. Celebrate and take a few days off. Begin preparatory reading for January module.
Perhaps not the most efficient of techniques, but it certainly covers most bases. By naming the steps and setting a time frame to them, the terrifying mysterious taboo is lifted. And that leaves us with academic writing: exposed.
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