ringraziamento felice

thicker threads

I've long proposed that the relationship between technical communication and instructional design needs to be explored more deeply than it has been. In fact, it's an area of my yet-to-be-taken qualifying exams. As an extension of that relationship, I've recently started pulling on the thread that runs through online course design (as a generic practice) and technical communication.

We covered some of this ground in Krista's class last year -- specifically the relationships among information architecture, information design, and technical communication. In a current online course design project, I'm finding that understanding these relationships helps me better describe and illustrate to faculty what they have to do when creating an online course.

For example, technical communication is all about content. Online courses are all about the content. Structuring that content in a logical, meaningful, and usable way is sometimes difficult for faculty new to online course design. Technical communicators, on the other hand, intuitively understand how to do this. By introducing basic concepts of information architecture to faculty -- even rudimentary folder/item metaphors -- I've been able to show them the connection between instructional content and instructional sequence.

Similarly, technical communicators have long struggled with presenting content in usable, useful, and effective designs. On the successes and failures of these struggles, it's easy to introduce faculty to basic concepts of information design -- working with the options (and limitations) of the interfaces through which their course content will be served. After faculty understand the role of heuristics in the online course space, they are always less intimidated by multi-layered content and web-based instructional technologies.

About twelve years ago my little technical writing department was making a case to be positioned as the information hub within a software development company. It seemed a bit of a stretch at the time, but now I think we may have been on to something. The (rapidly changing) nature of technical communication places the TCer in a unique position to weave together threads of a wide range of disciplines, practices, and theories. Maybe this is what makes it so hard to define technical communication. Maybe it's what makes practicing technical communication so much fun.

you can't make me

I'm just finishing up a recent study about various approaches to managing instructional, operational, and technical aspects of online education programs. Granted, the study focuses on full online programs, but there's a lot SU can take away -- particularly in regard to faculty preparation and quality assurance.

In this and similar studies, it becomes clear that the schools/colleges with the most successful online initiatives are those that mandate training for their faculty. It only makes sense, but can you imagine the blow-back from faculty who see themselves as working "with" the university rather than "for" the university?

The same resistance would/is felt when you attempt to position quality assurance in front of faculty. Quality is of critical importance to the success of any online education initiative. Yet how do you get faculty to understand that if they want to teach online, they will be required (mandated?) to actively engage in coordinated and systematic examinations of their course designs and pedagogical strategies?

There are advantages to working for a private university. One advantage is that you can make up your own rules. It only gets dicey when you have to navigate the politics of dancing; mandating faculty to do things in the best interest of the institution.

water water everywhere

The Electrical Engineering and Computer Science department is engaged in a multi-institution smart-grid computing project. The member sites are looking at the best way to collaborate. In a short five minute teleconference today, I was reminded about the difficulty most engineers have with needs analysis. Rather than spending the time necessary to determine their requirements (the type and degree of required collaboration), there was a sudden jump to the most accessible or user-friendly collaboration tool.

The list and types of cloud-based (and otherwise) collaboration tools grows every day. It's not realistic nor necessary to know every possible platform or tool option. It is, however, necessary to know that the tool you select is going to meet all or most of your requirements. But we first have to identify those requirements. Most of the technical writers I've worked with understand this necessity. Maybe it's because you only need to get burned once by scope-creep and ill-defined project requirements. Maybe it's because most technical writers need well-developed contexts, frameworks, and purpose statements to begin developing effective information products.

The smart-grid computing project sounds extremely interesting. I'm a little geeked up on the opportunities to work with some of these other regional colleges and universities. It fits in nicely with the chancellor's call to action.

new money

I'm hearing this -- new money -- a lot lately in all sorts of meetings and contexts around here. It bothers me.

The simple definition of new money is revenue to the university that has not already been allocated/extracted from a full- or part-time student.

The definition itself doesn't bother me as much as the way in which the phrase is bandied around in relation to online course and program initiatives. For example, "We may not need to determine how to allocate resources to that project based on the amount of new money it will generate."

There's two problems here. First, how do you estimate the amount of new money -- the potential for revenue -- when you have no idea about the market opportunities? Who on this campus, other than University College, understands the potential to attract new matrics and non-matrics to this university? The second problem is that the university is starting to cover ground that University College has already been over. We've created and participated in dozens of studies and research the last 10 years that show it takes an average of 3 years to begin to see a return on investments in online courses and programs. New money or not, if the university is not prepared to eat some costs out of the gate on any of the initiatives already in the pipeline, then they're going to lose out peer institutions (which we're doing anyway).

The rub is that much of the bulk of the costs that everyone keeps talking about -- the infrastructure, technology and support resources -- are already committed, they're just not being exploited. Redirecting and focusing existing investments (overhead) is readily and easily done. Building quality online courses and programs is readily and easily done. Do that, and the new money will come. It's not complicated.

The hardest part for these people is to get off the stick and act. The audience, market, and need is there. It's time we start to do something in a formalized, organized, and qualified manner.

getting traction

I had an interesting conversation with a research associate from the Education Advisory Board. They're preparing a report about online program initiatives for a regional university. The focus of the study is on cultural issues in regard to online teaching and learning.

It struck me that during our conversation I found myself defending SU's commitment to resident-based instruction. Working through the range of arguments for or against online, I came to a position that I'm actually comfortable with. In order to move SU forward in the online space, we have to accept the fact that the resident undergraduate experience is (and will likely be for a very a long time) the principle reason why students choose to come to SU. And while we may be able to accommodate those students with flexible format courses, including full-online, we should not expect that they would rather be completing their undergraduate degrees from off campus and at a distance.

Interest here at SU is growing around online graduate programs and certificates. We're getting the most traction with the schools and colleges that don't already have grad programs online, which is everyone with the exception of the Whitman School of Management and the School of Information Studies. That leaves a lot of programs and departments who need help.

Online grad is a much easier (and logical) sell to faculty and executives because it's a target population that isn't necessarily interested in the resident experience. They've had that. Now it's about efficiency and flexibility. So in regard to cultural resistance, maybe we're actually coming at this in the right way. It still feels awfully organic, but I'm confident that we'll see rapid growth after we get a toe hold with a few high-profile/high-dollar graduate programs.

thank a veteran today

precautions

In thinking more about the ECAR study noted below, I'm wondering if we (anyone who vets, selects, or implements instructional technologies) should be weary of the ways in which the study could likely be taken up. In particular, the study could imply that because students are increasingly tech-savvy, we should rush to incorporate a bevy of new communication and networking technologies into our instructional spaces.

I think it's important that we not get caught up in the "technology is ubiquitous" line of thinking. I understand how the prevalence of "personal" technologies can remove certain constraints to adopting new instructional technologies. However, I worry about blurring the lines among different types of technologies in the interest of making broad claims about student preparedness to use instructional technologies -- or to co-opt communication and social networking technologies for instructional purposes.

Students are growing increasingly comfortable with technology-mediated interaction. I get that. But it doesn't mean that they're prepared to use those technologies in instructional spaces. Manipulating technology to learn is a different activity (and requires different skill sets) than manipulating technology to socialize and communicate.

I realize I'm making broad generalizations here, but I've seen how these studies have led to knee-jerk reactions in the past.

meeting demand early

The latest Educause ECAR Study of Undergraduate Students and Information Technology is making the rounds -- lots of data, statistics, and assumptions about the spaces in which students and faculty are using technology.

These studies always excite me because I find little nuggets of validation (what does a validation nugget look like?) that indicate we’re still moving in the best direction; best for the students, the faculty, and the university. The most telling trend is that faculty and decision-makers appear to finally be getting it. There is a measurable degree of momentum building behind expanding instructional technology across the curriculum.

If I can use this latest study in any way to help shape our online strategies moving forward, I’m going to presume that student demand for alternate format instruction (hybrid to full-online) will increase at a rate similar to technology adoption in the resident classroom. That doesn’t mean Syracuse University is prepared to meet or respond to the demand, but it’s important that we recognize it.

common threads

I had my classroom observation conducted a few days ago. We’re required to have an observation prior to our contract renewals. I’ve always seen it as an opportunity to get a fresh perspective from real composition instructors.

This year’s observation was extremely enlightening in that it helped me better understand the threads that run through the lower- and upper-division writing curriculum. I’ve never taught WRT 105 or 205, so I’m always basing my instruction in WRT 407 on assumptions about what the students should already know or should be capable of doing.

In discussing this with my observer (a seasoned and extremely talented writing instructor), we determined that because WRT 407 is content-rich and highly contextualized, I have ample opportunity to address rhetorical aspects of technical communication. By coming back to rhetoric (as a discipline and practice), I can draw on what the students have already experienced in their lower-division writing courses.

Of course, I’m feeling a little sheepish for not identifying this opportunity myself. For all of my emphasis on the distinctiveness of technical communication, I lost the forest among the trees.