Categories
Mandatory Tasks

Network Assignment Using Golden Record Curation Quiz Data

When I first saw that I occupied a small nodule in the network, I thought it was a badge of pride—I’m an outlier who chose different picks than anyone else. But the explanation isn’t so simple.

When filling out the quiz, I only chose 7 tracks. This happened because I included two non-“musical pieces” in my Golden Record curation: “United Nations Greetings/Whale Songs” and “Sounds of Earth” (though how are whale songs not music, am I right?). The reason I ended up with 7 instead of 8 tracks is because the music titles sometimes had different names—an English description versus their original language on the podcast page. It was only later that I discovered there was a YouTube link with all the Golden Record tracks, and these names corresponded to the ones on the quiz. One track got lost in the mix because I didn’t want to spend time cross-referencing names.

So the only reason I’m an outlier is because me and two other colleagues chose LESS than the required 10 songs, and I chose the LEAST at 7. My opportunities for connections were greatly impacted. I think it’s good that the quiz didn’t force you to choose 10 songs, as that would have misrepresented what I thought should go on the record (I misinterpreted “music” to mean only musical tracks and not tracks in general—but I want whale songs with Louis Armstrong!). But this creates a limitation in the network.

This exemplified the fact that the visualization can fail to capture the reasons behind my different engagement with the task, which has significant political implications. When someone lacks access to information (like me missing the YouTube page) or doesn’t have the cultural proficiency to complete something in the expected way, they appear differently in the data visualization – but this misrepresentation doesn’t actually reflect their true preferences, values, or identity. It’s a powerful observation about how data collection processes can systematically misrepresent people based on access barriers rather than actual differences in perspective or preference.

I was in a 17/17 facet group with Sourabh—a lonely group of just 2 people—and because there were only 2 of us, none of the three songs we shared became nodules or circles. At first I thought you need at least three people sharing a song to get a circle, BUT when I combined our 17/17 group with the 29/29 facet group, Track 14 (Melancholy Blues) only had Isabella and me sharing it, yet it was still a circle. So circles must come about due to the interrelationships and connection density. This visualization choice of which selections become circles further reinforces whose preferences get emphasized and whose remain peripheral, which connects to broader questions of representation.

These visualization patterns reveal deeper power dynamics at work. My choices were really established by the task parameters, yet I wasn’t given much weight in this network. There’s no way the visualization can reveal that it’s built on the hidden assumption that whale songs aren’t considered ‘music,’ but that assumption effectively misrepresented my actual preferences and pushed me to the margins of the network. There’s almost a power dynamic embedded in the assignment that implies whale songs aren’t music and dictates what constitutes a music record (spoken word and whale songs cannot go on a music album; flute and drums can).

Also, while the visualization shows our preferences, it can’t show our motivations. One person might choose Bach for his mathematical precision, another because of his position in the Western canon. This small-scale example gives me insight into a much more serious problem: how marginalized groups might be misrepresented in data visualizations not because their perspectives aren’t valid, but because the data collection methods themselves contain barriers that disproportionately affect certain populations. What you’re measuring isn’t musical preferences but people who completed the task “correctly” from one particular perspective.

Categories
Mandatory Tasks

Golden Record Curation

Tracks for inclusion, with justification:

1. United Nations Greetings / Whale Songs – Voyager Golden Record

The necessity of wild juxtapositions. Outlandishness of project, postulating communication we can scarcely perceive. Information-poor language of gilded representatives versus the impossibly noble, majestic feast of information of whales.

2. Sounds of Earth – Voyager Golden Record

The clash between mathematical precision of planetary frequencies, which could be accused of ponderousness, with the ecstatic simplicity of striking a flint creates a perfect tension. Given broad historical perspective, incredibly over-privileging of humanity’s auditory footprint, but I kind of like that. Including an EEG of a representative of earth brilliant yet absurd.

3. Ketawang: Puspåwårnå (Kinds of Flowers), Performed by Pura Paku Alaman Palace Orchestra – Nonesuch Records

Chimes and chanting – that combination is indelible. Also need to represent symbolic thinking, and this Javanese mapping of flowers to philosophical states perfectly demonstrates our genius for correspondences (though utterly incomprehensible from an intergalactic perspective). Categorizing beauty through flowers – there’s a simplicity of intention revealed there, which I love.

4. El Cascabel by Lorenzo Barcelata, Performed by Antonio Maciel and Los Aguilillas with Mariachi México de Pepe Villa – Bicycle Music Company

Dynamic and great. Mariachi horns sound like the apocalypse; it’s always been that way for me. This music captures how our species races (sometimes joyfully, other times exhaustedly) toward oblivion.

5. Jonny B. Goode by Chuck Berry – Universal Music Enterprises

We need Chuck Berry. Chuck Berry captures frenzied hormonal youth – a universal language of sexuality that aliens might recognize (not that Bach is devoid of sexuality). His music represents both our cultural cycles and primal energy – revolutionary once, now simultaneously revered yet quaintly distant.

6. Mariuamangi by Pranis Pandang and Kumbi of the Nyarua clan – Recorded by Robert MacLennan

Maximum drone effect. Need to represent fundamental gestation periods of humanity, when literally NOTHING is happening. The recording captures something primordial, those extended periods of stasis punctuating our existence where change remains imperceptible.

7. Chakrulo by Georgian State Merited Ensemble of Folk Song and Dance – Melodiya Studio in Tbilisi, Georgia

Indispensable Georgian folk song. Shows we are not above acknowledging our darker, aggressive nature – destructive tendencies, capacity to make beauty therefrom. Drinking and violence need to be represented, puncturing the sterility of space.

8. Melancholy Blues by Louis Armstong and His Hot Seven – Columbia Records

The blues is more than a genre – it’s the definitive aestheticization of suffering. All about humanity’s resilience and defiance in the face of hardship, with a profound emotional depth that transcends intellectual achievements.

9. Mugam by Kamil Jalilov – Smithsonian Folkways

This represents our interpretation of cosmic mysteries – a sound journey into the unknown. Haunting, exploratory quality. Shows long before we actually went into space that we had imagined its vastness through our traditional instruments.

10. Dark Was the Night, Cold Was the Ground by Blind Willie Johnson – Legacy Recordings

Perfect moans and slide guitar. Is there any more universal experience than isolation? The stark, haunting quality, and the ground – there is no ground in space, yet we need ground to stand on and ground for communicating without words.

 

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Mandatory Tasks

Mode-bending

Changed Mode Piece

I started to take out my laptop to charge it, then changed my mind, but it wouldn’t go down to the bottom of the bag because a folder was angled in a way that blocked it. Still holding the laptop in my left hand, I reached for the book pouch – since it was propped up higher than anything else, it was the easiest thing to grab – to get at the charger positioned in front of it. Changed my mind again, and put the laptop back where it now went down properly.

I will take my laptop without any intention of charging it. But when I tried to grab it, it wasn’t a clean grip and slipped, so I decided to leave it in there.

I took the folder of papers out with my right hand. As I was lowering it back into the bag, it hit the lip. While still lowering it, I decided I would take it back out once I got it in. But I couldn’t get it all the way to the bottom of the bag between the book pouch and laptop, so I left it there in its partially-descended position.

I held up the bag from the lip with my left hand to access the front pouch with my right. I decided that if I could smoothly reach in and grab student post-it notes without any stalling in the motion, I would take them out. Instead my hand touched the Airwaves gum. My first thought was that I had to put it back – I had only authorized myself to take out post-it notes, nothing else. But then I decided no – precisely because I had failed to get the authorized item, I had to take out the unauthorized item. It was a necessary reversal: failing the original rule meant I had to implement its opposite.

The Airwaves were resting on the desk. Now, I decided to put the gum back in the bag, taking it in my left hand, but didn’t want to lift the bag with my right hand, so put the gum back on the desk. I picked up my pen to write about this. While writing, I wanted to hold the Airwaves in my left hand, and then hatched a plan to put it directly into the front pouch using my left hand as a wedge to both open the pouch and descend the gum (with the bag still leaning against the desk leg).

I then considered transferring the Airwaves to my right hand to use it as the wedge instead. But while writing about these alternative plans, I realized I needed to verify which hand had originally lifted the bag’s lip and which had reached in. I decided that if my written record showed I had lifted with my left hand and reached with my right, I would allow myself to use the left-hand wedging method. However, in writing about this decision to verify, I had made another assertion about the hand configuration without being completely certain. This created the need to verify not just the original writing but also my recent writing about checking the original writing.

After performing these verifications and finding them correct, I finally had permission to proceed with the left-hand wedging method to return the Airwaves to the front pouch.

Reflection

My mode change transformed a conventional “What’s in my bag” inventory into something more experimental. While my original piece used selected objects to construct a professional narrative (about my teaching, AI use, and linguistic identity), the new version deliberately defamiliarized a different set of objects through detailed attention to physical interaction and decision-making.

What fascinates me is how the two pieces reveal completely different aspects of the same activity (looking in my bag). The first was selective and reflective – I chose objects that could tell a story about who I am. The second became this strange recursive experiment where each interaction generated its own rules. I didn’t even get through everything in the bag because each object opened up so many possibilities for interaction.

As Kress argues, meaning is made through multiple modes beyond just written language. My mode change demonstrates this – moving from purely written description to documenting physical actions and mental processes created entirely different kinds of meaning. As McLuhan suggests, new modes don’t just change how we communicate, they “alter the structure of our interests: the things we think about.” My first piece was interested in what objects revealed about my identity, while the second piece was solely focused on documenting what I actually did with them. This mode change offers both a benefit and a challenge: even though I deliberately created arbitrary rules and pointless manipulations, the resulting documentation reveals something about identity that careful self-presentation cannot. Yet what it reveals resists easy identification of a stable self – it suggests I am only what I do in each moment, even when those actions are consciously artificial.

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Uncategorized

An emoji story

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1FvGg7jBVpd3nNFqi49BmANw5mgHegEf6X1BoQj3SjO0/edit?usp=sharing

I was overwhelmed by this assignment when trying to translate the last film I truly enjoyed into emojis, and it ended up taking me a lot more time than I would care to admit. However, the last hour or so working on it was greatly enjoyable, and I shall attempt to explain this. For the title, I attempted to represent a complex idea through a combination of emojis. At first I was daunted by having to represent the complexities of the plot using only emojis. This challenge seems to exemplify what Bolter describes as the tension between textual and visual modes of representation – how do you translate a rich narrative into purely visual symbols?

To tackle this challenge, I needed to develop a clear approach. I initially thought I would take a thematic/symbolic approach, but I quickly became daunted by that task. What enabled me to get my head around it was realizing it was only ever going to be a partial description of the plot of the movie. I decided to structure my emoji narrative around key moments, allowing myself to use multiple emojis for key characters (who needed that complexity to be properly represented), while being more economical with other story elements. This approach let me distill the plot down into certain motifs, whether these were oriented toward audience reaction or the character’s emotion in sequence. I found myself habitually placing these emotional reactions at the end of each line to bring out the patterns that existed in the film.

Most times I used the emojis to represent their commonly accepted meanings (like red exclamation marks to signify danger) while in other instances I had to make use of combinations in order to portray an idea that wasn’t easily represented by a single emoji (without giving too much away, gas pump paired with the swimming MASK, and not GOGGLES). What began as a daunting task transformed into something deeply satisfying as I discovered the internal logic of my emoji narrative. There was particular pleasure in repeating certain complex sequences verbatim, and in realizing that removing emojis could sometimes make the story stronger – a kind of addition by subtraction. So while it was a gross simplification of a brilliant and complex film, the partiality of the description became, in some way, the purpose. It was like I was creating my own story here – not just simplifying the film, but finding its essential rhythm and patterns. In this way, perhaps what I created wasn’t just a translation but what Bolter might recognize as a remediation – a new form that both rivals and incorporates elements of the original.

References

Bolter, J. D. (2001). Writing space: Computers, hypertext, and the remediation of print (2nd ed.). Lawrence Erlbaum.

Categories
Optional Tasks

Potato Printing

I chose the word “ivory” and spent about two hours carving the five letters into potatoes. While the carving process was intricate, the real revelations came when I attempted to create two identical copies of my word.

Initially, I tried stamping out the whole word once before making the second copy. The results were frustratingly inconsistent. My wife suggested I should stamp each letter twice before moving on to the next one – this worked much better since my hand could immediately reproduce the same angle and positioning while the motion was still fresh. In retrospect, this practical solution highlighted how challenging it is to achieve consistent handwork without mechanical assistance.

When drawing each letter with marker, I found myself less focused on the basic letter shapes and more on trying to add aesthetic touches – subtle bulges at the ends of the ‘i’ and gentle undulations in the ‘r’. These artistic ambitions would make the already challenging carving task even more difficult. After drawing, I’d press the knife straight down along the lines to define the letter’s shape. For outside edges, I could then use the flat of the blade to slice cleanly from the potato’s edge inward toward these deep cuts – just like slicing a potato for cooking. The enclosed spaces – like the inside of the ‘O’ and the triangle in the ‘V’ – required carefully digging out small chunks, working to maintain an even depth while ensuring complete separation between the raised letter and its hollow interior.

When I started stamping the letters, I was surprised by random flecks appearing in what should have been clean exterior spaces. Despite my careful carving that felt precise at the time, the prints revealed imperfections I hadn’t anticipated.

After spending two hours to carve just five letters into potato stamps, I gained a visceral appreciation for printing technology. The painstaking work of creating even this simple reusable form helped me understand what we take for granted – the revolutionary ability to design letterforms once and reproduce them thousands of times. The challenge of making my crude potato stamps revealed the sophistication behind centuries of printing innovations.

Categories
Optional Tasks

Voice to Text Task

This narrative was created using the text-to-speech Whisper app, which allows one free transcription but does not allow you to so much as copy the text without purchase, which meant I had to retype my narrative.

What is the right way to conduct oneself on escalators in the Hong Kong MTR? I met a colleague on the platform at Wong Chuk Hong. We were both going to the same place in central and we moved to the escalators to get out. And there was this great bottleneck of people all waiting their turn to get on the escalator at the right hand side according to convention. Leaving the left hand side unobstructed for people who want to walk up the escalator. And I am bemused by this congestion created because I wonder why everyone wouldn’t just walk up the escalator all the time and would willingly submit to standing and waiting and milling about in order to get on at the right hand side. My colleague shares my amusement but gave a tweak to my philosophy by advocating for everyone to stand on the escalator. She got on the escalator and stood next to me on the left hand side and at one point looked behind her to see if anyone was coming up behind. She was a moment of self-consciousness but more so of defiance as though she was militating for a kind of new approach. And she explained this to me as if everyone simply moved to both sides and stood on both sides there would be this prevention of this congestion. So the fundamental difference in her approach was that I agree with the current system that the left hand side should be maintained free. The difference she believes that the left hand side should always be filled by people standing. I believe that the left hand side should always be maintained free if people are not going to be more go-getters and walk up the escalator. She further justified her system by saying that expressing disbelief that anyone could be in such a rush that they needed implying that they didn’t need to walk up the escalator. I’ve been in situations where I’ve confronted a person standing on the left hand side and I’ve actually just pushed through them, which often blesses a reaction of disbelief from the person I’m pushing to the side, but such as my own militancy about the rights of the person to move unencumbered up the left hand side.

For my analysis, I will proceed through my text-to-speech conversion bit by bit, noting linguistic and structural features as they appear in the text. This approach allows me to track how oral storytelling patterns emerge and differ from conventional written narrative.

The only predetermined part was the opening question, a common storytelling device used to generate interest and establish the theme of the story.

The narrative contains an abrupt temporal jump – we meet on the platform at Wong Chuk Hang, and suddenly we’re at the escalators after completing our journey. A written story would smooth out this transition, perhaps by describing the journey or using a clear transitional phrase.

The phrase ‘according to convention’ is inserted rather abruptly, yet its formality serves a dual purpose: it creates a sense of shared knowledge for local readers familiar with escalator etiquette, while potentially intriguing readers from less congested regions who might be unfamiliar with such rigid social conventions.

The transcription includes a sentence fragment: ‘Leaving the left hand side unobstructed…’ This illustrates advice I often give to students – that starting sentences with ‘ing’ words often creates problems. Such constructions need to either connect to the previous sentence as a subordinate clause or be rephrased entirely.

The statement ‘I am bemused’ describes my general, ongoing state of mind – it’s how I always feel about this situation. Similarly, when I write ‘My colleague shares my amusement,’ it could be read as another general truth, parallel to my own permanent bemusement. However, what I’m actually trying to convey is something I discovered during our specific conversation, which becomes clearer in the next part: ‘gave a tweak to my philosophy.’ This shift to past tense reveals that I’m describing something learned in a specific moment, not a general truth about my colleague’s perspective. This mixing of tenses – from what could be read as general truths in present tense to a specific conversational revelation in past tense – is more characteristic of spoken expression, where we naturally flow between timeframes as our thoughts unfold, than of written expression, which typically maintains more consistent temporal framing within a single sentence.

The description of my colleague’s actions on the escalator would be handled quite differently in written form. A written version might read: “As my colleague expounded on her philosophy about the need to fill up both sides of the escalator, she looked back defiantly, as though ready to confront anyone who dared insinuate that they were expecting her to move aside…”

The phrase “She was a moment of self-consciousness” demonstrates how natural speech often produces incomplete or grammatically awkward constructions that would be refined in writing. In a written version, this might have been expressed as “she was displaying a moment of self-consciousness” or “this was a moment of self-consciousness on her part.” This illustrates how spoken language often contains these rough edges that written language would smooth out.

The phrase ‘So the fundamental difference in her approach was that I agree’ exemplifies how spoken language often expresses comparisons awkwardly. Written language would favour parallel structure: ‘While we both agree that the congestion is problematic, we differ in our solutions: I believe everyone should walk up the escalator to create better flow, while she believes no one should walk up the escalator at all.’ This demonstrates how written language can achieve clarity through careful structuring, while oral storytelling, though effective in conveying meaning, often takes a less elegant path.

The phrase “more go-getters” exemplifies informal spoken language that would be inappropriate in formal writing.

There’s a clear instance of self-repair, a characteristic feature of spontaneous speech, where I begin with “She further justified her system by saying that…” then switch to “expressing disbelief.” This happened because I wanted to use the word “disbelief” but had to adjust my syntactic structure to accommodate it – “expressing” better collocates with “disbelief” than “saying” does.

The voice-to-text transcription was remarkably accurate, with only minor errors. It transcribed “elicits” as “blesses” and “such is” as “such as” – the latter presumably because “such as” is a more common pattern in English than the somewhat pretentious “such is.”

Interestingly, the Whisper app adds punctuation such as full stops, which are constructs of written language. In oral speech, there are rarely clear indicators of where “punctuation” should go – we rely instead on pauses, intonation, and rhythm. The app’s automatic addition of punctuation represents an attempt to bridge the gap between spoken and written conventions.

This analysis reveals how oral storytelling differs fundamentally from written narrative in its handling of time, perspective, and grammatical structures, while still managing to convey meaning effectively through different means.

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Uncategorized

Hello world!

Welcome to UBC Blogs. This is your first post. Edit or delete it, then start blogging!

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Mandatory Tasks

What’s in my bag?

 

I’m David Jalsevac, an English Language and Literature teacher at Victoria Shanghai Academy in Hong Kong. What follows is my contribution to the “What’s in my bag” exercise, completed on January 19 2025.

This picture was taken after returning from the Hong Kong Public Library after going on a marking tear marking student exams. These are the last formal in-school exams for Year 12 before they write their IB exams. However, because I teach them tomorrow, I was marking Year 11 papers, these are their FIRST in-school formal exams of the Diploma Programme.

The pens in purple, green and black ink of various thicknesses are significant – they are chosen in different colors to contrast with the student’s blue or black. The best pen I’ve found is a uniball Signo 0.7 which feels smooth to write with and does not bleed excessively through the paper like the thicker zebra two-sided markers.

My half-full hydroflask water bottle bears my last name printed in permanent marker by my mother – I have to keep reminding myself to drink during the workday and end up not doing so at all. I took one sip as I left the library today.

My laptop rests in a felt case bearing a digitally rendered image of our school campus – one of hundreds distributed when our new building wing opened. There’s something telling about seeing these identical cases everywhere on campus, each teacher toting the same mechanically reproduced image of our shared space. The usual accessories trail along: laptop charger, iPhone cable, and my Bose Quiet Comfort headphones that help maintain focus during marathon marking sessions.

My staff identity hangs from a replacement lanyard (the original lost en route to ball hockey) – a white digital card with a laminated overlay. The overlay displays my photo, name, and role as “Secondary Teacher,” with the school’s identity presented bilingually in English and Traditional Chinese, accompanied by our accreditation markers (IB, CIS, NEASC). This card mediates access to the school’s electronic gates and secondary staff room, and lets me print at any of the school’s printers.

Colleagues view me as an AI enthusiast, but I see it more as a practical compulsion, no different from any other teacher’s methodological preferences. A deeper tension lies in my linguistic limitations – despite two decades of intermittent life in Hong Kong, I remain stubbornly monolingual. In our English-privileged educational environment this rarely creates practical issues, but it marks a personal shortcoming I’m acutely aware of.

Speaking of bilingualism, I carry a secret shame that I’ve lived here on and off for over 20 years now and I am still a monolingualist. In the environment I’m in which privileges English above Chinese this doesn’t matter, but they don’t see someone who views himself as linguistically lacking.

The exam papers follow a consistent format: booklet-style papers with front matter covering course details, instructions, and academic honesty declarations. Inside, students analyze a blog transcript, mirroring the structure of the IB Paper 1 exam. Their responses are written on lined paper embossed with our school crest, in blue or black ink.

Text Technologies

Since the most significant contents of my bag reflect my marking practice – the exam scripts, pens, and AI-equipped laptop – I’ll focus on how these tools represent my evolving assessment process.

My marking process has evolved significantly. What began as purely individual analysis has transformed into a collaboration with AI. I feed selections from student scripts into Claude-3.5-sonnet, offering my initial thoughts and seeking validation of my feedback (it is very agreeable). I often get it to adjust its responses to a Year 12 comprehension level. These comments often expand to 1000-1500 words – multiplied across 28 students in two classes, it represents a substantial body of detailed feedback.

Let me share a typical example of how AI assists my marking process. When evaluating a student’s podcast analysis, my initial thoughts often emerge as a stream of questions and potential feedback points:

I basically agree with this analysis
Does she need to be more explicit about linking the point about enjoyment to change, by saying that it makes the listener more amenable to the ideas presented to them
She doesn’t have to say that it is stypical of podcasts to use a conversational tone, that’s kind of robotic – “The text is a podcast, which uses a conversational tone” She could simply mention that THIS podcast is conversational
Shoudl I point here, This analysis is fine, but also consider the conversational dynamic between Robin Chatterjee, how they pass each other off as quite convivial (is there a more Y12 friendly word than that), as though they are long-time friends, which also makes readers more susceptible of the message

She could specify that the phrase “Yeah Right” is a colloquial phrase, the colloquialism creates the informal tone

It’s also kind of robotic that she says “as opposed to “yes, I agree”

Should I give her checkmark when she says – or is it better to say it creates an atmosphere of intimacy/familiarity

Grabbing readers’ attention is superficial – should I say that?

When the student says “nformal tone and enthusiastic language can not only make the podcast more engaging, but also create a positive relationship between the listener and the topic of wealth. – Should I say good connection to the guiding question

This positive interaction gives a positive association with wealth – should I say here Specify that this is Sharma’s expanded concept of wealth, not your garden variety wealth = money kind of wealth

Through AI collaboration, these scattered thoughts transform into focused, student-friendly comments:

“No need to generalize about podcasts – focus on how THIS podcast uses conversation”
“Good observation. You could specify that this is colloquial language, which creates the informal tone”
“Consider also how Robin and Vishen interact like friends – their rapport makes listeners more receptive to the message”
“✓ Good connection to guiding question”

There’s an odd tension in how we approach AI in education. While we encourage students to think critically about technology, there’s still an unspoken expectation that teachers should maintain the illusion of purely human assessment. The IB’s stance remains notably vague and non-committal. I find myself in an odd position – knowing that AI-assisted feedback often provides clearer, more consistent insights, yet feeling pressure to downplay this tool’s role in my process.

While AI assists my process, it hasn’t fundamentally changed my commitment to thorough assessment – I can take up to three to four hours on a single script when needed. But now that time is spent differently. Instead of struggling to articulate feedback, I’m collaborating with AI to refine and perfect it. Even my teaching materials evolve through this human-AI partnership, with Claude helping to shape class discussion slides.

Fifteen years ago, my toolkit would have been simpler – pens, notebooks, but no exam scripts as teaching wasn’t yet my profession. Looking at these tools now – the colored pens, the paper scripts, the laptop with AI assistance – they represent a transitional period in education. While younger students increasingly prefer keyboards to pens, showing the digital shift in progress, there remains something uniquely valuable about the physical act of writing and marking on paper. Perhaps that’s why, even as digital assessment becomes more prevalent, these tangible tools persist in our practice.

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