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Reflecting on a Seminar: My First Fully Online Course

Posted on August 2, 2021 | Comments Off on Reflecting on a Seminar: My First Fully Online Course

As I mentioned in this previous post, I am working through feedback from my students.  All quantitative data, as well as links to all previous blog posts (since 2011), are available here.

Last round I focused on PSYC 218 Statistics. For this installment, I focus on PSYC 417 Advanced Seminar in Applied Psychology of Teaching and Learning, which will be transitioning to the new course code PSYC 427 for my W2021 Term 2. The first time I taught this course, 10 students journeyed with me in May-June 2019. That pilot syllabus, an overview of the course, and reflections from that year, and my August 2019 (!) draft of Summer 2020’s syllabus are available here. By the time Summer 2020 actually occurred, we were well into the heart of the pandemic. Sixteen brave students joined me from around the world in July-August 2020 as we figured out how to teach and learn online. Here’s how I adapted the syllabus. Notably, both these first two offerings were during the summer and therefore were condensed into 6 weeks. Next time I offer the course (likely my last offering for at least a while), it will be stretched to a regular term.

I had never taught students entirely online before, and don’t have a ton of experience with upper level seminars. I tried my best to apply the Guiding c Principles when redesigning the course, particularly when it came to compassion and options and flexible deadlines. If you compare the Policies sections from my three pandemic courses in three successive terms, you can see the progression I made in articulating and embracing options and flexibility: PSYC 417 (Summer 2020), PSYC 217 (W2020 T1), and PSYC 218 (W2020 T2).

To be honest I don’t remember too many details about how I went about adapting the course. It was such a frightening and overwhelming flurry. I do recall that it’s when I came up with a weekly organizer and intensive module structure in Canvas, which I went on to elaborate in subsequent courses because it kept my organized. I left some notes to myself that I want to capture here:

  • The students collaboratively made an excellent participation rubric. I still found it challenging to apply, but it was better.
  • Students scoffed at my 5 hour estimate for the final paper, indicating it took them much much longer.
  • The skill of “summarize an article” was coming up a lot and I should have students practice that specific skill deliberately. It’s a building block for both the reading reflections and the final paper (and any paper, really).
  • Lesson 6 (end of Week 3) plan was too much. We were all overwhelmed by then.
  • Cut reading reflections to best 4 of 5 rather than requiring all 5.
  • A second marker (TA) was essential for actually being able to give timely feedback throughout the course, and reliably grade papers on time by the deadline. (Special thanks to Carolyn Baer!)

Notably, none of these notes were on the tech. Maybe those notes are embedded in my weekly lesson plan notes. I recall getting the hang of annotations at some point during that term. But I can’t help but think about how tech ended up fading into the background in PSYC 217 and PSYC 218 evaluations too. I’m curious to know what students in PSYC 417 put in their comments…

Quantitative Data Summary. The aggregate quantitative data from both offerings appears below. Please click on the graph to enlarge it. Importantly, the response rate was low. Just 7 out of 16 students responded, which is below the threshold for a class this small. Nonetheless, based on the data I have, the second offering went quite well. The most room to grow is in perceived fairness of assessments. I’m not altogether surprised by this, and I’m glad to see a boost from the previous iteration given the changes to the project. The biggest jump was in Clear Expectations — again not surprising given I’d had a chance to actually clarify my expectations.

Qualitative Data Summary. Two key themes emerged from the comments. First, students felt supported in a well-structured course. The asynchronous/ synchronous balance worked well, as did the Canvas structure, and general openness to flexibility. Second, it was a lot of work. Expectations where high (a couple of folks perceived too high), and there were a lot of deadlines. I suspect that some of this intensity will be mitigated by stretching out over 13 weeks rather than condensing into 6, but I still hear the call to think carefully about whether each and every assignment is essential, and where I can build in further flexibility.

Prospective students might be interested in this one comment in particular: “This course is truly intensive. The estimated amount of hours it takes to do this course is way lower than reality. If you are doing anything other than this course in the summer, I wouldn’t recommend it. You will have to produce work above and beyond other high achievers. If you have other commitment in the summer, and produce an average work quality, expect to see lower grades than your average.” I would invite someone who is spending exorbitant hours on this course to meet with me to see if and where to incorporate efficiencies. Yet the point is a valuable one for some folks: this isn’t an easy A. Contrast with someone else’s perspective: “This course reminded me that grades are by far, not the most important part of learning. Nor are they always able to provide sufficient feedback for students. The comments I received on my work far outweighed the value of the grade.”

Two of my favourite comments:

“Taking PSYC417A with Dr. Rawn has genuinely changed my life. Between the quality and frequency of the feedback I received and the fact that the course format was premised upon Self–Determination Theory, I feel I’ve improved more in this course than any other. I believe I’ve improved as a thinker, writer and learner. The information communicated by Dr. Rawn, together with the course activities, provided a scaffolding for students to gradually become more autonomous in their learning. Her compassion, flexibility, and acumen worked synergistically to construct an environment that felt safe enough for me to push my own limits, and improve in ways I wasn’t aware I could.” — WOW. I am honoured to have had such an impact on this student. Thank you so much, whoever you are, for sharing this feedback.

“Dr. Rawn manages to engage her students in the content, and helps give students the freedom to connect course content to passions outside of the course all while creating an environment that is both accepting, and demands the very best work product. I purposefully look to take courses with her because I am never disappointed. She works so incredibly hard, but makes it look easy.” — Whoever you are, thanks for your ongoing trust in me!

My sincere thanks to everyone who took the time to offer ratings and feedback, and to everyone who journeyed along with me while I learned to teach online from the dining table in my open-concept condo. Although some of the details are a bit blurry by now, I do have a deep sense of how much we all worked to motivate each other and learn together in those unprecedented times. You kept me going.

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Recovery & Resilience

Posted on June 1, 2021 | Comments Off on Recovery & Resilience

The last time I posted I was in a dark space. It was January 2021, and there were months left of pandemic teaching ahead of me and so many others. I was clearly overwhelmed.

Today is a new day. There is reason to hope that, with the rollout of vaccines*, we can see an end to the pandemic that has kept us hidden away for so long. Difficult and important conversations related to equity, diversity, and inclusion are (still) happening among my friends and colleagues. Many are working toward un/learning and developing solutions. It is a long journey ahead, but there are more of us taking steps on it than ever before.

Personally, since submitting grades in early May, I recognize my immense privilege in being able to shift into a kind of recovery mode, giving my brain lots of time to rest and my body lots of time to move. For this I am so grateful. Even so, I’m still struggling to find focus for more than an hour or two on most days. My heart goes out to all those who have not been able to take a form of recovery break.

Some folks were ready in May to start thinking about post-pandemic teaching. I was not. It’s taken me a month to create space and perspective to just begin reflecting on my teaching over this past year, as I re-learned the core aspects of my job.

What have I learned teaching through a pandemic? Some very preliminary thoughts:

  • Students inspire me to work harder and to show up with the best self I can offer. I will drop pretty much anything else to do what I need to do for my students.
  • Time with students (e.g., in class, in office hours) is important for my own well-being and career satisfaction.
  • I can offer students an opportunity to somewhat customize their grade breakdown, while maintaining the department-required average, and it’s not too much extra work
  • I miss two-stage exams for the community and competence they build
  • Clicker-style questions on Canvas have some advantages
  • Discussion posts have potential to enhance learning, at least for some students. And once I got the hang of it, they weren’t too hard to mark (minimally) regularly. Bonus: Kept me aware of what my students were thinking and understanding (and, depending on the prompt, feeling).
  • Video recorded lessons help everyone (and are a little scary for me)
  • There are some advantages to online exams (e.g., question and answer randomization, auto-grading MC)
  • Now that my courses are set up in modules form, they just need updating to help keep me and students on track
  • I’d like to use verbal feedback/videos more, but I find it difficult to motivate myself to do so. Writing just comes fastest for me most of the time… but leads to a lot of words on a screen.
  • Being more flexible in deadlines is great for students and works for me… but is tough to program in Canvas and communicate
  • Group drop-in office hours on Zoom worked really well imo
  • Individual appointments, booked through Canvas and done on Zoom, worked pretty great
  • I really really really miss (and rely on) the visual feedback from my students’ faces and body language during class to know how things are going
  • Group annotation tools are fun and useful, so is a side chat panel
  • Self Determination Theory of motivation has real potential as a guide for my decision making and priorities. How can I use it more? What are the downsides?
  • [I might keep adding to this list as I think of things]

What’s coming next on the Blog

Over the coming weeks, I will be working on digesting the comments my students offered through the student experience of instruction mechanisms at my institution. I usually do this annually, and post my reflections as well as synthesized quantitative scores, but last summer I was in too much of a panic  and avalanche of work every single day to do so. So this summer, I intend to examine and compare feedback from 2019/2020 to 2020/2021. I taught the same three courses over those two periods, but under drastically different global and “classroom” circumstances. I look forward to learning from my students… even more than I did all year long.

 

*which need to spread world-wide urgently

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Reflections from Yoga Class

Posted on May 11, 2017 | Comments Off on Reflections from Yoga Class

One of the gifts I have given myself this sabbatical is a commitment to yoga class. For the past 10 months or so, I’ve been going to yoga class pretty much twice a week (basically whenever I’m in Vancouver). I’m not sure my mind is calmer for it (but maybe it is?), but it’s allowed me to sneak in stretching and core strengthening into my exercise routine — two things I have trouble doing on my own. Recently I’ve been thinking about my yoga classes as adventures in teaching and learning. Here are some of my observations:

  • I enjoy learning in the social context of a class. SURPRISE of the century, I know. But spending all this time in a class has given me the chance to really reflect on that, including my role as learner. I find it motivating to share a physical space with other human beings who also want to learn something I’m interested in learning. I find it motivating to be guided by someone who has deliberately planned a sequence of activities to help me learn and practice skills (whether or not they’re fully “expert”). I’ve met people who are able to practice yoga on their own with videos, but that’s just not me and I’m ok with that. I probably have assumed that my students are motivated by the collective experience of class. What if they’re not? What options can/do I give for students who might be motivated like I am by the collective classroom experience, or motivated differently?
  • As a teacher, I can offer activities and opportunities, but I must do it in such a way as to allow students to go deeper or shallower depending on what they need out of that class/course. That also involves helping students learn to listen to their own needs and trusting that they will make the choice they need to make that day. What’s tricky here is that yoga is optional and there isn’t a final exam. That’s not true in my classes.
  • My regular yoga teacher is inspirational. Her best classes are creative, based in the fundamentals of hatha, and build an arc that begins with warming up specific muscle groups and finishes with a corresponding challenging pose. She explains how movements link to each other, making explicit her pedagogical choices. She brings positivity, and encourages students to listen to their bodies carefully. Her prompts have helped me learn to accept where my body is and what it needs in each moment.
  • Even she gets tired and overworked. She’s been teaching other novice yoga teachers recently on top of her regular teaching. Her classes are still good, and I can tell she’s choosing to focus on what she knows best: the basics of hatha. This is good, but — and I say this lovingly as a fellow teacher — not her best most inspirational teaching. Noticing this about her is helping me reflect on how burnt out I was a year ago and how much I needed a break from the classroom. I love teaching students. It’s fun and creative and in my best moments I’m helping my students create and re-create their understanding of the world. But it’s also exhausting. And after my Aunt died last February I was crawling every day toward sabbatical break. Now more than ever I’m certain it showed in the energy and creativity I wasn’t able to bring to class. Self Care isn’t optional in this line of work.
  • Learning from substitute yoga teachers, novice or experienced, helps me to think a bit differently about my practice. Always learning from the same person–even if she is incredibly skilled and I really enjoy her classes–doesn’t mean I can’t learn insights from someone else, even if I don’t fully love the whole experience (but sometimes I do and that’s great too).

I’ve signed up for a yoga pass that continues indefinitely. My goal is to continue making it to class on Mondays and Thursdays, even after my own classes begin in the fall. Please forgive me when I won’t schedule a meeting that runs past 3pm on those days. I need to engage in this Self Care so I can keep bringing my best.

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I missed a pottery class! Catching up weeks 5 & 6

Posted on November 12, 2016 | Comments Off on I missed a pottery class! Catching up weeks 5 & 6

A few weeks ago I headed to Southern Ontario to meet with colleagues at five different universities. While discussing the 2nd edition of my textbook, I learned about the statistics and research methods courses for psychology majors at the University of Guelph and Wilfred Laurier. I learned how psychology fits into degrees at Renison University College (within Waterloo) and Huron University College (within Western), and how the curriculum has changed since I was an undergraduate student at Waterloo. Spending a day at McMaster was incredible! I learned about their introductory psychology machine (check them out on Twitter ) and amazing Honours program. I also learned how different institutions incorporate (or don’t) teaching focused faculty members, which will be useful for the SoEL research project I’m working on as part of this certificate program. Many thanks to all my hosts!

What I did *not* do during that week was go to my pottery class. Turns out we were learning how to make bowls. That may sound easy after all the cylinders I’ve been making, but don’t fool yourself. Nothing is easy in pottery (at least not right away). I went in for an extra visit to try to make a bowl and the result seemed reasonably bowl-shaped.

After missing the live demo, I attempted to create a bowl.

“Playing Catch-up.” After missing the live demo, I attempted to create a bowl.

I smudged the rim a bit after these photos were taken. Bummer. I also notice some of my errors: for some reason I wasn’t pulling up enough clay from the outside, and somehow managed to create an edge instead of a solid rim because I was hanging on to the clay too long rather than stopping and compressing. But at least I had something bowl-shaped. Unfortunately, timing was not my friend in this case.

The reason why bowls have a curved outside is because you scrape off that part of the clay when your bowl reaches a particular type of firmness (called “leather hard” because it feels like leather or cheddar cheese). I saw the demonstration for how to finish the bottom of the bowl before I had a bowl of my own to practice with. By the time I had returned to this bowl, it was past the point of leather hard, now too firmly set to make any cuts. Sigh. I decided to fire it anyway. It will be an ugly half-bowl half-cylinder creature. I can use it to practice glazing techniques.

I must admit I’m losing some steam for pottery. Part of this is because I’ve been travelling and have now missed a couple of classes. Turns out it’s really difficult to learn how to do pottery without enough practice and without all the instruction possible. I’m having a harder and harder time remembering the steps and figuring out what I miss, I’m making ugly products, and the class is almost over anyway which further reduces my motivation to get closer to doing well at this art.

Do some of my students go through a spiral like this? I can imagine a parallel with a semester here: Starting out keen and ready to learn something entirely knew, hitting a few roadbumps, other required commitments dragging attention away, not building in enough time to work with the material, and before you know it the course is almost over and you’re so far behind it’s not all that fun anymore. Plus, for me anyway, I figure by now have the basics. I now know some of what I don’t know about this discipline, which makes me appreciate it more when I encounter it in everyday life. I also know I’m not going to go any farther in it anytime soon, if ever. Although I’m not going to become a potter, I value the lessons I’m learning about patience and being a novice, as well as the insight into motivation changes for a non-required class. And I’m going to have actual real tangible products to show what I learned. Note to self: Think more on that.

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Adventures in Being a Complete Novice

Posted on September 29, 2016 | Comments Off on Adventures in Being a Complete Novice

Yesterday I failed miserably. I was frustrated, a tiny bit embarrassed, and delighted. I was delighted because one of my personal goals for my sabbatical is to learn something completely new from scratch. I want to feel like a complete novice, so I can improve my empathy for what my students may be going through when they join my class. The phenomenon called the hindsight bias or curse of knowledge basically means that once we know something it’s really difficult to imagine what it’s like to not know that thing. Imagine not knowing what the traffic lights or temperature mean. Imagine not knowing how to decode what these letters that form this sentence mean. Weird, eh? The challenge is, it’s my job as a teacher to imagine what it’s like to not know about psychology (or some aspect of it), and then try to teach that topic to people who actually do not know (as much) about it. What makes this action trickier is that the longer I do my job, the more I know about psychology, which makes it harder and harder to imagine what it’s like to be in my students’ chairs. I try to get around this challenge in a few ways, including talking with my students about their thoughts. But let’s be honest: it’s been a while since I’ve had a pure experience of complete and utter lack of understanding.

Enter: Pottery class.

Yesterday morning I wandered down to a studio I’ve passed a million times but never entered. I was excited to embark on a new learning adventure! I was going to create something! It might not be beautiful, but I could create! I was the second person to arrive, out of a class of 10. I met my teacher, she used our names to introduce us to each other. I felt welcome. Someone said she had done this before and I didn’t think much of it until later. (For the record, my only foray into art was a single class in high school that was half history, and included zero pottery.) The teacher showed us around the facility. I was trying to absorb all the information. The keywords I remember, in no particular order, include: kiln, bisque firing (as opposed to another kind of firing I forget), plug, glaze, members only shelf, don’t touch, student shelf, slip, washroom, clay, silicate, wheel, clean, wedge, centering. Soon, my brain was full of terms, but I was still excited. Read: without some sort of handout or way to take notes, jargon became a jumbled mass quickly… but maybe that’s ok as I don’t really need to know all this right.

It felt like an eternity until we finally got our clay! Read: all I wanted to do was *DO* the discipline of pottery, which made it difficult for me to concentrate fully on the orientation. The teacher demonstrated wedging, which is kind of like kneading dough and is essential for a strong final product. I measured exactly 2 pounds of clay from my large block (instant success!). My wedged clay looked reasonably good for a first try. Great! With confidence I prepared my wheel station. I watched the teacher’s demonstrations carefully, and tried to emulate her precise hand and body actions. Things were going reasonably well until suddenly half my clay came off in my hand! I made do for a while, and then I tried to make a cylinder, carefully watching the steps and trying to follow with a half portion of clay. After trying to be so careful with it, my cylinder fully collapsed in on itself. It was such a disappointment. I suddenly felt frustrated, especially when I looked over at the person who had done it before. Hers looked just like the teacher’s. Read: social comparison framed my feeling of disappointment and pushed it into failure, but also motivation to make another one.

I stayed an extra half an hour because of a fierce desire to make SOMETHING, ANYTHING that didn’t resemble a pile of grey mush. I tried three times and couldn’t even get the clay to stick to the wheel. It kept slipping off! That most fundamental starting point eluded me, despite the careful attention I had paid to the demonstration, despite the fact that I’d successfully done it just an hour before when my teacher was there. Frustrating! I gave up — but only because I realized I had actual work I had to do and couldn’t just spend the rest of the day on pottery. Reluctantly, I left. All the way home I was frustrated and annoyed because I couldn’t get it. Slowly, I began to laugh at myself. I had taken one single class in a completely unfamiliar discipline and somehow I wasn’t a magical unicorn prodigy in pottery so I was frustrated by it. Ha! Later, I actually uttered the words, laughing, “Turns out I’m not a great potter!” and they made me pause. Really? Is it true that I don’t think I’m a great potter because I got one lesson and couldn’t make something? Of course not. Read: This reaction is consistent with something I’ve suspected for a long time. I tend to have a fixed mindset, and correct to growth when I notice it. I’m reminded of when my statistics students say “I’m no good at math” and I try to convince them otherwise. It takes time and practice and willingness to fail but not feel like a failure.

Scorecard: Pottery definitely won the day. I won insight about failing and a pile of clay covered in mud (called slip) that looked kind of like this (actually this is nicer than mine was):

When I searched for “Pottery cylinder collapse” this image from “Fine Mess Pottery” came up, in a post aptly titled “To that beginning student.”  Apparently I’m not alone.

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