quite hogging my scene

Scenario-based instruction -- I love it. And I love this presentation from Cathy Moore.

We spent a lot of time some years ago developing scenario-based instructional models. Our designers didn't seem to care much for it. I think they found it too practical -- really. They typically preferred more theory-based strategies that emphasized complex assessment activities. When we moved instruction (problem solving) to shop-floor activities, most of the designers backed away.

I like linking learning activities to work activities. It's an approach I've seen work exceedingly well in many of Dana's courses and programs. I need to keep scenario-based instruction in the toolkit as we begin to work with more faculty on undergraduate online courses. Having faculty consider real-world scenarios in which to embed their instruction could make the design and development processes more interesting and rewarding -- for them and their students.

i am stuck on band aids

I've been working on a loooong-term online course for a corporate HR group. We did the whole analysis and design thing. We prototyped an instructional model with pre- and post-tests, and even got into designing a course evaluation tool. At the outset, when everyone at the site wanted a say in the product, I tried to impress on them the need to focus on the content. When some hack with a VP title started blathering on about adherence to the corporate color schemes, I implored them to worry about all that later -- that we could address the colors, buttons, and spinning burning skulls when we got to a point of development. At that point in time, I really needed them to focus on the content.

Two years into the project, I get an email from a kid in their marcom group requesting a copy of the course so she can "brand" it correctly. I emailed her and the project coordinator stating that I'd be happy to deliver the course (and all associated source files), if the coordinator was ready to sign off on the project. That would mean I'm done with my stuff, I submit my final invoice. Within minutes of my reply -- literally minutes -- I received an email from the coordinator stating that he still had content to provide and that he was, by no means, ready to conclude the project.

Why? Why is it so hard to get through to people? I've tried a range of tactics -- from hard-liner to soft-shoe -- to get people working on learning products to understand the value of content. I've concluded that they resist, squirm, and avoid content because it's the hard part. Any monkey's ass can sit around and talk about color schemes and button choices. The content takes time. It takes focus. It takes thought.

So I'll spend the next two days making interfaces changes around barely enough content for a three-page comic book. I'll submit the revision and an iterative invoice, and patiently wait for the content.

ode to tradition

When I started working here, my boss (mentor, friend, conversationalist extraordinaire) had a tradition of wearing a Christmas-themed neck tie every working day between Thanksgiving and Christmas. When he retired, he gave some (likely most) of the ties to me -- about fifty or so.

Today I started my fourth year of carrying on the tradition. It doesn't get old. It's a fun way of getting into the holiday spirit because the ties are so eclectic -- just like my old friend. My wife, however, is a different story. About the second week, she gets really tired of me asking every morning, "Does this tie go with this shirt?"

tank you veddy much

During my course work, I was taking a class with an associate faculty member who had a habit of having us consider every topic through a lens of Native American persecution. The uniqueness wore off quickly as his personal agenda began to trump individual exploration and discussion. Nice guy. Good writer. Crappy professor.

Just thought I'd share that, as every Thanksgiving since that class (which is going on four years now) gives me a moment of pause to consider what I really should be thankful for. For that moment of pause, I'm thankful to my crappy professor -- each and every year.

We all need to pause today. If for any reason, let's all be thankful we live in a country that gives us the opportunity to change the world. Tomorrow we can debate if that change is good or bad. There may even be time to entertain a diatribe or two about the inhumane means by which we've been given this opportunity. For now, just be thankful. Thankful that we are free to express, create, incite, inspire, and shape.

Happy Thanksgiving!!

touch too much

The next time a Luddite faculty member tells me there are some things you just can't teach on line:

be cool or be cast out

The academhack had the following comment in a post about the launching of a new major in emerging media:

"There is a new type of literacy developing, one between those who will understand the digital network media landscape, and who use it to produce, to organize, to take ownership over their lives, responsiblity for their community, to be critical of it, to engage with it . . . and with those who merely consume it. A divide between those who will be passive consumers at best, victims at worst, and those who will be active participants."

There are implications embedded here for higher education -- particularly in regard to online teaching and learning.

On which side of the divide will we find "older" faculty who are facing increasing presure to move lower-division / high-volume courses online to accomodate increasing student demand for flexibility and access?

On which side will we find adult learners returning to school with limited information and technology literacy skills?

And perhaps most importantly, how will those of us supporting these populations be asked to bridge the divide?

two old guys

Another funny conversation recently overheard at the YMCA. Context note: Jake is 83 years old and Will is 76.

Will: "Hey Jake, Dorothy had a great big smile on her face this morning."

Jake: "Was it because she saw you walking into the pool with no trunks on?"

Will: "No, the water was warm as a bathtub. But come to think of it, she did say she liked my new trunks."

Jake: "We'll there you go. Try the speedo tomorrow and let me know if you get a bigger smile."

google me this

Funny conversations overheard recently:

Nephew’s Girlfriend: “I really like your Grandmother. She’s nice. What’s her name?”

Nephew: “Grandma.”

Nephew’s Girlfriend: “You don’t know your Grandmother’s first name?”

Nephew: "Yeah, it's 'Grandma'."

Nephew's Girlfriend: "Her parents didn't name her 'Grandma'."

Nephew: “OK, so let's Google her.”

Nephew’s Girlfriend: “And what are you going to Google? Grandma?"

Nephew: “Of course, isn't that her name?”

here's to hoping

There's something prescient in Roxanne's post here. I've found a similar theme through much of Derek's public writing a few years ago. There's been plenty of it in my own anguish over qualifying exams that I never seem to get closer to. I'm like that guy in Kafka's The Castle -- you know, the idiot who can't seem to gain entrance to the castle? The sad (and most frustrating) part of the story is that all he had to do was walk in. So you're left wondering, did he really want to get in or was he happy enough just sitting around bitching about how everyone was making it so hard for him?

I think it's accurate to say that hope is the fuel that fires the part-time student's (and, arguably, all adult students') motivation to succeed. Life-long learning is about taking action -- and hoping we never lose the desire to continually improve ourselves and the lives of those around us.

catfish are jumpin'

I can't blame this gap on the way things tend to slow down in the summer. Things don't slow down for us in the summer. WE ARE SUMMER! Yeah, baby -- we are summer damit! Beyond the administration's hysteria about making that point clear to all staff, there is a marked excitement around here from late May to early August. It's the excitment of purpose. Despite our organizational issues, we continue to be extremely good at providing programs, support, and services to part-time SU students. Between the spring and fall, that excellence extends to all SU students enrolled in courses and non-credit programs during the summer semesters. We can call our support and service excellent because students tell us so. And that's why we do what we do everyday. I don't think it's naive. I think it's about purpose -- about doing something of value.