OpenEd09 sign - uploaded to Flickr on August 13, 2009 by mikecogh

Brian Lamb, Scott Leslie and collaborators pulled off a fab Opened09 Conference in Vancouver!  Not only were many presenters engaging and thought provoking but participants held up the true spirit of “open” in their contributions to the conference.

On the downside – the “boys club” was supercharged and came across (at times) as exclusionary – which didn’t do much to “cross the chasm” unfortunately. Think this must be hard to avoid when a group of passionate, talented friends (who know each other well) get together.  Might have been mediated with a different presentation style though – less show and more involve – maybe sessions around questions for the participants to address (with a little context as background) might have been helpful to set a more inclusive tone? Something to consider for next time?

I went away with alot to think about.  Here are a few thoughts:

• there are many different views of “open’. For some it means sharing resources across institutions in the context of a single course or project. For others it is sharing their work openly via the internet and a CC attribution license.
• we need more thinking about process and OERs – otherwise we’ll have a repeat of the learning objects scenario. How are we supporting learners in making good decisions about using OERs (information literacy, digital literacy)? What are their goals? What does it mean to be an “open” teacher? How do we best support “open” practices – sharing within our own institutions and communities?
• there seems to be agreement that learning requires environments and communities that are safe yet stimulating learners towards risk taking (where the learning actually happens). What do we do to create safe environments for exploration in our own contexts?
• The flavor of the day (in terms of technology) is just that – the good stuff offers much in terms of a vehicle for collaboration and presentation and sharing.  The worst acts as a barrier to involvement. Might be helpful to have a shared framework for tech selection based on principles of openess and access.  Involve potential users in the decision making rather than offering the solution.
• How do we shift our approaches when expectations don’t match reality (users of OERs are not currently – nor necessarily – sharing back)? Chris Lott shares an enlightening perspective about the requirements for gift giving, receiving and sharing. What might the community of practice approach have to offer as an approach to preparing us for the gift exchange?
• Gardner Campbell’s narrating, curating, sharing: accessible concept for open ed.
• Ecotones – love the word and the concept – Kyle Mathews reference to architect Ann Pendleton-Julian’s work! 

Thanks to everyone who participated in opened09.

I’ve been reflecting on a panel I facilitated last week at the 2009 Canadian eLearning Conference.  Three UBC learners (Andre, Angeli and Zack) talked about their concepts of PLE – what they think is important and what they think about the relationship between learning, university and their own personal goals and explorations.

Here are some of the themes that they touched on:

• students are inherently practical and grades are key motivators for action.  We’ve structured the education system this way, it’s not their fault.
• PLEs will primarily include tools and approaches that support getting better grades. Tools like Quizlet, Facebook for study groups, google docs and wikis for shared work, blogs for personal reflection, IM and (sometimes) Twitter for networking with peers, etc. Not much room/time  for creative explorations with online tools, resources and social spaces unless it is part of a degree requirement.
• disconnect between personal learning goals, choice of tools and selection of approaches. Learning goals are set by the instructor and those are the ones that students pay attention to. Connection with the personal and reflection on learning process happens with support – usually in the context of a “work” project or an instructor’s approach to teaching.
• personal learning environments are not synonymous with technology – books, creative materials, etc. are just as important as part of a person’s personal learning environment.

So, how do we meaningfully support the learners in the activities that surround the  development of their personal learning environments:  reflection, identification of their own learning goals, consideration of the “fit” between their goals and twhat is required for their chosen field of study?  Educational reform, one interaction at a time? Lots to consider here…

Here are the slides (on Slideshare) that provided some context to our panel discussion:

Uploaded to Flickr on August 17, 2006 by In Veritas Lux

A week or so ago, I listened to George Kuh speak about NSSE data, student engagement and what to do about improving it.  We heard about ”high impact” educational practices like learning communities,  collaborative assignments, undergraduate research, community service and experiential learning. These are all good things and we know students are more engaged in the kind learning activities that connect their studies with their lives outside of the classroom.

And yet, there was very little discussion about what we do as members of the university community to help students articulate, form and re-form their goals.  It seems to me that this is pretty central to being engaged.  And it’s a process that doesn’t begin and end in college or university – but, in supporting students, maybe we have an obligation to help them think consciously and critically about their education and how they might make it work for them.   I think that’s what was eating at me throughout the session.  Who defines success? How will students be truly engaged in their educational experience if they are not sure why they are there in the first place?  What can their institutional experience offer them and what do they need to find out there in the big wide world, on their own and with others?

I looked at the NSSE questions as they were delivered at my institution and I didn’t see one that directly asked students about their goals. There was something related to the university’s role in “helping you understand yourself” , but I don’t think this is the same thing.

UBC doesn’t fair so well when it comes to student experience with some of the learning experiences that George Kuh and others define as “high impact”:
•    Only 9% of first year students participate in community or service projects as part of their courses. 71% never take part in such activities.
•    By their senior year, only 21% of students have done research with a faculty member.
•    Only 16% of students participate in a learning community (where they are taking more than one class with the same group of students).
•    37% never talk with faculty members about career plans.
•    Only 33% of first year students work collaboratively with other students in class.

There was some support for the idea that one way to improve student engagement in “high-impact” activities is to ensure they get credit for it – so that it is not an “additional time burden” for students but that it becomes part of the requirements for a degree.  However, as one student so articulately replied, “slapping an extrinsic reward on something that should be intrinsically motivated is a questionable idea.” And, I think he hit the nail on the head.

So much of what drives the activity of the “academy” is about extrinsic motivations (grades, money, institutional ratings). Maybe we’ve forgotten how to do “instrinsic”. Maybe it takes too much time to help learners find their own learning paths, to examine their motivations and goals related to learning (broadly) and consider what part their university experiences play in helping them to meet those goals. Maybe we don’t consider this kind of intentional activity as valuable (or as valuable as learning “content”). Maybe we’ve decided that we are the experts, after all, and we should tell students what they need to learn – not the other way around.  I can’t help but thinking that (if this is the direction we are moving) we may be going in the opposite direction of real engagement.

It all started with a good laugh after looking at Super-Josh’s comic video “Twouble With Twitters”, posted on Dean Giustini’s blog. I am an occassional twitterer, so I could laugh at myself – thanks, Dean.  Then, on a more serious note, I followed a trail that Brian put me on to – first to Cole Camplese’s post where he laments what sounds like a less than warm reception by a bunch of academics to his ideas about Twitter and the social web in general – then to the Wired Campus article and discussion – fascinating stuff, yet again highlighting the differences in perception about what makes a good learning environment.

Couldn’t resist a little Wordle fun as I was thinking about the differences that came across in some of the comments. I decided to pull some words from the comments that seemed to indicate fear or open hostility towards Twitter-like tools in the classroom alongside others that indicated appreciation.  Here’s what they looked like:

Just found this article: A semantic approach to visualizing online conversations by Judith Donath . Provides some interesting theoretical background to the use of visualization tools to map online conversation.

At my university, profs are on the fence about this. Some say yes, go where the students are.  Others say no, don’t want to jump on that bandwagon. Many say, tell me more…

In response to “tell me more”, my colleagues and I have gathered some resources together in a wiki. Maybe some of you will find this useful (and add your own resources?).

You cannot hear God when people are chattering at you.

Somehow this passage hit home for me as I read The End of Solitude by William Deresiewicz in a recent edition of the Chonicle Review.   Lately, I’ve experienced a sort of yearning to be alone, with my own thoughts, without interruption or interference, to go on a long walk in the mountains or though the winter gardens in my neighborhood. The interferences keeping me from that are making me sad. What’s weird is that I began to think the universe was speaking to me in some kind of cosmic act of serendipity – given that I had just been transported while reading Greg Delanty’s poem Dropping Names on the same theme.

So, I’m pondering:

• what if solitude disappears as a social value – or has it already?
• are we losing our capacity to be alone?
• if we can’t be in solitude – how will we really learn to appreciate the natural world?
• isn’t solitude just as important to learning as connection? and why don’t we talk about that anymore?
  

Some of my old colleagues from the DE&T days at UBC, Mark Bullen, Tannis Morgan and Adnan Qayyum, have recently completed some research looking at BCIT students and how they really use info and communication technologies (ICTs).   Not surprisingly:

generational differences are not the issue. Contextual issues such as the nature of the program are more important considerations when making decisions about the integration of learning technologies.

I’ve long been suspicious about some of the Net-Gen “mythology” and wrote about it a couple of years ago.  More recently, we encouraged some UBC students to share their opinions about learning, technology use, etc. via U-Stream. May be hard to watch the whole group of 1-2 minute clips (especially since many of the poor souls seemed to be suffering with colds) . Here are a few to start with: Cadence, Luke, Teena, Angeli and Kevin.

I suspect many students (at least in North America) are using their cell phones, Facebook, and other communication technologies:

• mainly for social purposes
• sometimes to study together
• occasionally for group work (which one student expressed open hostility for)
• often to entertain themselves when boredom sets in

What’s interesting is that students don’t seem to be asking for games or even technology in the classroom. They are asking to be engaged in conversation and real life research, listened to, included and considered.  These things have nothing to do with technology.

At least a part of every day, I seem to get so caught up in the details that I lose sight of the big picture.  Apparently, there is a term for this – at least as it relates to visual perception. It’s called inattentional blindness.  I’m making the loose connection with what happens when I focus so intently on the tasks at hand that I loose sense of the purpose and (consequently) miss the incidental yet important pieces of the bigger picture.  Maybe this is a different thing, but somehow it seems related.

I was reminded of an earlier post on Mind Hacks on this topic and a link to dothetest.co.uk .

Click on the photo below to take the test and see what I mean…

image of a group of people about to play basketball.

Crisis opens the door to change and often forces us to reflect on our most fundamental values. While I’ve experienced many moments of personal “crisis” in my life,  economics has never been at the root of any of them.  Maybe it’s because I don’t have investments (barely a savings account actually) – maybe it’s because I don’t put a high priority on money and things (though I like to have enough to live my life without crazy stress).

In observing the mania in the media lately (not so much among my friends and family – who are pretty much in the same financial boat as me), I can’t help but think that this crisis has a flip side – a good side – that will remind us of what we can offer every day to make our lives better – without entrenching            ourselves so far inside the institutions of the economy that we loose our own minds.                                       

Eat Money Originally uploaded by waɪ.tiː

Serendipitously, on my way to work, I heard a radio interview by David Suzuki with Chris Carlson - author of a recent book called Nowtopia: How Pirate Programmers, Outlaw Bicyclists and Vacant-lot Gardeners are Inventing the World Today. This snippet Building an Anti-Economy provides a bit of an overview into his ideas.  Haven’t read the book, but plan to.  Inspiration to add to my list…

multi-tasking

Apparently, some UBC profs are getting sick of competing with cell phones and electronic devices in their classes. The proposed solution? Block wireless access in the classroom!  What? In my mind, this is like using a taser to solve a conflict.  What happened to discussion? Negotiation? Talking about the problem?

At Syracruse University, one such frustrated prof decided to stop teaching when students are texting. This sparked some interesting discussion among the readers of Inside Higher Ed. and (I’m sure) among his colleagues and students.  Maybe this wasn’t the most mature way to handle the problem, but I’m sure he wasn’t the first to feel this way.

I agree that the indiscriminate use of cell phones and other gadgets seems to have led to an epidemic of rudeness that is hard to fathom sometimes. I’ve witnessed genuinely kind and socially responsible people cross that line more than once in meetings and even during conversations and I’ve felt the sting of being on the receiving end of the rude behavior. Am I that boring? Was it something I said? Are you just not interested?

The problem is that we don’t talk about it, examine the consequences or draw our own lines when it comes to using these tools in situations where others are involved. And I can almost here the collective cry the “multi-tasking” is an important and necessary behavior.  I don’t buy it.  Multi-tasking (to the level that we seem to find acceptable these days) is freying us, wearing us down and (probably, in some way) leading to the downfall of civilization (OK, maybe that was an overstatement).  Besides, we’ve always multi-tasked to some extent, or day dreamed or doodled. But when you pull out your cell to text your friend or colleague in the middle of a lecture, or  you subject your fellow bus-riders or grocery line standers to a raging conversation about a wall post gone wrong on Facebook – you’ve crossed a line. Your departure from caring about the people around you has become obvious and (in that sense) it’s just plain rude.