In yesterday’s entry I mentioned Warschauer’s suggestion that the divides of EFL/ESL, the digital and technology divides have been overcome, and my personal objection to it.
During the first online chat session for my ICT course, the persistence of the digital divide was eloquently demonstrated. Telecommunications facilities in my region of Oman were interrupted for several hours, resulting in my late arrival and some of my classmates’ inability to log in at all. Here, like in many places worldwide, internet access is crippled by infrastructure problems.
In the discussion, some agreed with Warschauer to the point of saying that internet access is now universal. From my tenuous foothold on this side of the digital divide, I am quite simply gobsmacked. Somewhere there exists a world where that is true. I haven’t visited it.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
THE PLACE OF ENGLISH IN INTERNET COMMUNICATION AND E-DUCATION
My readings for the ICT module have included some think-work based on an article by Mark Warchscauer entitled Wiring English into our Technological World and another by Seth Mydans called Across Cultures, English is the Word. Some thoughts on these…
Warschauer’s central argument is that emerging technologies eliminate three perceived barriers:
1. The distinction between ESL and EFL
2. The digital divide (lack of resources among the world’s poor)
3. The technological divide (the lack of tech skills, even among those who have access to technology.)
Although I can agree with the general argument, as a citizen and lifelong resident of emerging nations, I feel entitled to some criticism of these opinions,
1. ESL/EFL: While English immersion is becoming prevalent in many international workplaces, and fluency increases, inaccuracies may persist, and even be entrenched as a shared interlanguage among L2 speakers. This may be the evolution of the international language, but that does not eliminate prejudice that may exist against L2 speakers. And as a speaker of English as a second language, I am actually allowed to say that!
2. Digital divide: Warschauer's claim that even among the very poor of the world, there is increased accessed to certain shared tech resources is justified. However, many are still left behind, and the divide becomes more and more difficult to cross.
It should also be considered that the vast majority of ICT requires literacy, which cuts out a further segment of the world's population.
Although most languages are represented online, English still rules the waves, and not knowing this world languages sets users at a further disadvantage. In short, Warhschauer has a point, but I can't agree with him completely.
3. Technological divide: The most endangered species here is the technophobic teacher! Even as a one-time internet addict and reincarnated blogger, I often learn shortcuts and new uses for computers and other gadgets from my students. There is a certain threshold of computer skills that will be necessary for teachers to mine the potential of ICT for education. Guiding educators to become e-Ducators will require fundamental attention, particularly in TESOL, where professionalization is not yet prevalent in many contexts worldwide.
Warschauer’s central argument is that emerging technologies eliminate three perceived barriers:
1. The distinction between ESL and EFL
2. The digital divide (lack of resources among the world’s poor)
3. The technological divide (the lack of tech skills, even among those who have access to technology.)
Although I can agree with the general argument, as a citizen and lifelong resident of emerging nations, I feel entitled to some criticism of these opinions,
1. ESL/EFL: While English immersion is becoming prevalent in many international workplaces, and fluency increases, inaccuracies may persist, and even be entrenched as a shared interlanguage among L2 speakers. This may be the evolution of the international language, but that does not eliminate prejudice that may exist against L2 speakers. And as a speaker of English as a second language, I am actually allowed to say that!
2. Digital divide: Warschauer's claim that even among the very poor of the world, there is increased accessed to certain shared tech resources is justified. However, many are still left behind, and the divide becomes more and more difficult to cross.
It should also be considered that the vast majority of ICT requires literacy, which cuts out a further segment of the world's population.
Although most languages are represented online, English still rules the waves, and not knowing this world languages sets users at a further disadvantage. In short, Warhschauer has a point, but I can't agree with him completely.
3. Technological divide: The most endangered species here is the technophobic teacher! Even as a one-time internet addict and reincarnated blogger, I often learn shortcuts and new uses for computers and other gadgets from my students. There is a certain threshold of computer skills that will be necessary for teachers to mine the potential of ICT for education. Guiding educators to become e-Ducators will require fundamental attention, particularly in TESOL, where professionalization is not yet prevalent in many contexts worldwide.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
BRAVE NEW WORLD, VIRTUALLY
There is something of the scent of danger about my study session tonight. Where I am usually cozily surrounded by my fortress of chunky books and printed-out articles when I sit down to study, tonight my desk is bare except for my laptop.
Stripped of my reams of stationery I feel cold and lost and bare and afraid. Even though I am no luddite, learning this way is an unaccustomed adrenaline-throbbing terror of a thrill. The endless abyss of options gapes at me: while unit notes are sensibly sitting on my screen, they open up into a myriad of fractal possibilities: hyperlinks scattering off into an unseen horizon, mp3s on classes (and every other imaginable soundtrack) thronging for my attention along with the rest of the wondrous wilful wilds of the web.
This is a whole new mode of learning, and it may very well be true that a new generation of ‘digital natives’ will feel extremely comfortable in it. I am not- and educators from previous generations probably feel even more intimidated than I do.
But if learning is to reach new generations, it will have to be in a medium they understand. And interactive e-learning certainly speaks their language.
The only question is… do I?
Stripped of my reams of stationery I feel cold and lost and bare and afraid. Even though I am no luddite, learning this way is an unaccustomed adrenaline-throbbing terror of a thrill. The endless abyss of options gapes at me: while unit notes are sensibly sitting on my screen, they open up into a myriad of fractal possibilities: hyperlinks scattering off into an unseen horizon, mp3s on classes (and every other imaginable soundtrack) thronging for my attention along with the rest of the wondrous wilful wilds of the web.
This is a whole new mode of learning, and it may very well be true that a new generation of ‘digital natives’ will feel extremely comfortable in it. I am not- and educators from previous generations probably feel even more intimidated than I do.
But if learning is to reach new generations, it will have to be in a medium they understand. And interactive e-learning certainly speaks their language.
The only question is… do I?
Friday, January 23, 2009
RESURRECTION
Justifying the disappearance- temporary or otherwise- of a blog is so standard that I will not even go into the reasons. We all know how it goes. My nutshell justification would be my virtual bumper sticker of the moment: Life was so easy before I got one. Nuf said.
The resurrection in question is not only that of my blog. Blogs, especially those related to a personal passion- tend to follow the waxing and waning of the passion. Throwing myself into what I am doing- work, study, life- became such a time- and energy- consuming activity that the fire behind it was reduced to embers in the past months. I was beginning to wonder if it had been doused completely.
But stepping away can be the best medicine. After working my fingers to the bone in my coordination duties at work over the past semester, and finding that it was still not enough, I had the sense that everything else had suffered, including my teaching and my studies, not to mention my personal wellbeing. For three weeks in January, though, I have the luxury of stepping back from work to attend classes for my masters program. From this, new developments have emerged.
Taking time to re-invigorate my theoretical interests and regain perspective on what it is that I do, and disciplining myself to relax (not as easy as it sounds), while entrusting colleagues with matters at work, has kindled those fragile embers. The flames are returning, and with care they may blaze again.
There are many educational mistakes of the past semester to learn from, in all areas from my teaching to my coordination to my studies to my work-life balance. That is what mistakes are for- and in fact they only are mistakes if I do not learn from them.
I am fortunate, blessed, downright lucky. I have so many opportunities, inspired colleagues, wondrous friends and a ragbag bucketful of abilities and experience and hard-won skills. To say that these could be wasted is not entirely correct. But that they can be used in ever better ways would be fair.
Resurrecting my blog is one of them.
The resurrection in question is not only that of my blog. Blogs, especially those related to a personal passion- tend to follow the waxing and waning of the passion. Throwing myself into what I am doing- work, study, life- became such a time- and energy- consuming activity that the fire behind it was reduced to embers in the past months. I was beginning to wonder if it had been doused completely.
But stepping away can be the best medicine. After working my fingers to the bone in my coordination duties at work over the past semester, and finding that it was still not enough, I had the sense that everything else had suffered, including my teaching and my studies, not to mention my personal wellbeing. For three weeks in January, though, I have the luxury of stepping back from work to attend classes for my masters program. From this, new developments have emerged.
Taking time to re-invigorate my theoretical interests and regain perspective on what it is that I do, and disciplining myself to relax (not as easy as it sounds), while entrusting colleagues with matters at work, has kindled those fragile embers. The flames are returning, and with care they may blaze again.
There are many educational mistakes of the past semester to learn from, in all areas from my teaching to my coordination to my studies to my work-life balance. That is what mistakes are for- and in fact they only are mistakes if I do not learn from them.
I am fortunate, blessed, downright lucky. I have so many opportunities, inspired colleagues, wondrous friends and a ragbag bucketful of abilities and experience and hard-won skills. To say that these could be wasted is not entirely correct. But that they can be used in ever better ways would be fair.
Resurrecting my blog is one of them.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Examine This
2 November 2008, 8:35 PM
The time of the mid-semester madness is upon us, and has left none untouched. The teaching profession is beset by one of the most pernicious vices of traditional education: the pattern that emerges around written examinations. Exams tend to send students and educators alike in a counter-educational tailspin that puts us all to shame. And the worst thing is, we never seem to learn.
I should admit that I always loved exams, because I have an irrepressible urge to be applauded and was able to get straight As on reams of exams of which I now remember nothing. Yet as a teacher I have found that exams are endured as a necessary (or even unnecessary) evil by most students, who do not feel that results reflect anything of consequence. In many cases they are right.
Yet much of the educational system, certainly in the developing world, still glorifies the traditional written exam. Where I teach, we are gradually catching on to ongoing assessments, some of them alternative. Yet most of the ongoing assessment still consists of quizzes. While this system has certain virtues, they are not a reflection of students’ real ability to use their learning, particularly in language skills. It is certainly not a reflection of an ability to cope in the 21st century.
But here we are, halfway into the semester, with half our teaching corps on their haunches like performing poodles, and the rest simply on their knees. The next three weeks will be laid on the altar of the traditional written exam, accomplish nothing, upset students and provoke a torrent of flattery, negotiation and attempted bribery.
It is times like these that I truly think we, the educators, are the ones who have a great deal to learn.
The time of the mid-semester madness is upon us, and has left none untouched. The teaching profession is beset by one of the most pernicious vices of traditional education: the pattern that emerges around written examinations. Exams tend to send students and educators alike in a counter-educational tailspin that puts us all to shame. And the worst thing is, we never seem to learn.
I should admit that I always loved exams, because I have an irrepressible urge to be applauded and was able to get straight As on reams of exams of which I now remember nothing. Yet as a teacher I have found that exams are endured as a necessary (or even unnecessary) evil by most students, who do not feel that results reflect anything of consequence. In many cases they are right.
Yet much of the educational system, certainly in the developing world, still glorifies the traditional written exam. Where I teach, we are gradually catching on to ongoing assessments, some of them alternative. Yet most of the ongoing assessment still consists of quizzes. While this system has certain virtues, they are not a reflection of students’ real ability to use their learning, particularly in language skills. It is certainly not a reflection of an ability to cope in the 21st century.
But here we are, halfway into the semester, with half our teaching corps on their haunches like performing poodles, and the rest simply on their knees. The next three weeks will be laid on the altar of the traditional written exam, accomplish nothing, upset students and provoke a torrent of flattery, negotiation and attempted bribery.
It is times like these that I truly think we, the educators, are the ones who have a great deal to learn.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Future Present
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?
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?
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.
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