For the first of these weekly reflective blog entries, I’d like to dwell on the use of technology and the internet in Professor Jackson’s class, and more generally in education. I was initially skeptical of this class’s electronic components: maintaining this blog, checking Professor Jackson’s blog, using his online calendar to make appointments, turning in papers via email, and listening to podcast lectures. This skepticism stems from my experiences in high school with teachers attempting to incorporate the Internet into their classrooms, and universally failing to do so effectively. While pioneering and pedagogically defensible, streaming video, Wikispaces, and web quests weren’t useful: the high-tech bells and whistles took time and energy away from substantial education. In my high school television class, for example, the more time we were required to spend uploading content to the internet, the less time we had to find, film, and produce news stories.
I’m hoping that this will be different. I think the course syllabus provides an excellent pedagogical rationale for blogging: it opens up the conversation in a way that conventional papers can’t. After Friday’s class, I’m looking forward to more of that dialog and discussion, and blogs seem like an effective place for that dialog to occur. However, I do think that we should have been provided with instructions on how to meet the technical guidelines listed in the syllabus. This isn’t a computer science class, and it is unfair to ask us to spend time and energy researching the technical workings of blogging.
The other electronic components of the class aren’t backed by an educational justification in the syllabus, and I’m a little more hesitant to embrace some of them. We’re supposed to listen to online podcasts (by Professor Jackson) on course topics, which I’m not very keen on. It is difficult enough to pay attention to a lecture when you’re in class; I think I’d get even less out of listening to my professor lecture on my iPod. It doesn't involve the student in what is happening. A nearly opposite problem could occur with the videos we’re supposed to produce: we’re asked to do too much and get too involved. Multimedia can be fun, and its certainly possible that students do better when they’re enjoying themselves, but I worry that the time I’m using editing and filming video could detract from the substantial content of the project, or from my performance in other classes.
I suppose I’ll wait and see. I’m not ready to pass judgment – and I don’t think any of these things would seriously impact how much I enjoy or gain from what (so far) has been an interesting and engaging course. I could be pleasantly surprised.
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1 comment:
Good points, worthy of some responses.
First, on the technical requirements question: precisely because this isn't a computer class I am not providing technical information in the syllabus, or holding you accountable for carrying our specific technical procedures. I am merely giving you a set of expectations and leaving it up to you as to how you choose to meet them. I am happy to talk with people outside of class about my preferred technical solutions to these issues, but I'm not in the business of training people in how to use computers. Nor did you sign up for that in this course. And finally, what I am asking you to do are to develop some technical capacities that will be of use to you in the future; me simply telling you do push X and then click Y is not likely to promote that end, now is it?
Second, the podcasts. Those are a compromise, since a) I need to give you some information so that we can have more informed debates but b) making people sit and take notes strikes me as something close to cruel and unusual punishment in this day and age. Besides which, c) people have different learning-styles, and the podcasts I produce are "enhanced" (slides and audio) and let people select their preferred way of absorbing the material; and d) there are no written summaries of these theories that serve the function that I want the theories to serve. My alternative to a podcast was to write up something for you to read, and again, that only works for a certain style of learning. Plus there's something a bit narcissistic about me writing a summary of some theories of IR and having us discuss and debate my summary. Instead, my podcasts place the other reading material into context and enable a more fruitful discussion.
Third, the videos. I am aware that a video projects takes longer, and have endeavored to scale back other work during the time you're working on the videos. And yes, it's possible to get so wrapped up in editing that the substance gets lost (that's a disease that seems to affect Hollywood, too), but since I am not evaluating these videos on their cinematography I hope that sends a clear enough signal about where you ought to place your effort. The rubric I'll hand out for the videos should help to reinforce that message as well.
All of that said: I'm prepared to be completely wrong about these technological [more precisely, electronic technological -- books are a technology, after all, just as a chalkboard is, and arguably language itself] tools. Maybe they do nothing for the overall course experience -- maybe they don't enhance your learning at all. Based on my experience, they do enhance the experience a lot for almost every student, and a little for every student. But I am always looking for ways to improve what I am doing inside and outside of the classroom, and feedback like this -- even and perhaps especially a little healthy skepticism! -- is great. As long as you, like me, are prepared to be wrong; then we can let the experience proceed, and evaluate it as appropriate.
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