When asked about teaching options for the fall semester, our administration says we have to remain flexible because we don't know whether we'll be able to meet face-to-face or have to continue teaching online. Flexible and nimble, they say, or flexible, nimble, and agile, plus also engaging. Flexible, nimble, agile, engaging, and rigorous. Sounds less like teaching than like physical therapy.
Our best bet, says one colleague, is to plan two versions of each class, one designed for face-to-face delivery and one designed to be delivered online. Then again, maybe we'll need a third option, a hybrid version of the course that can move on and offline as conditions require. How can one person deliver three versions of a course, assuming that deliver is the right verb to describe what we do? Trust me, if I could press a button to deliver an education to my students, I'd coast through life without a care. Nimble. Agile. Flexible.
Instead, four weeks of unexpected online teaching have left me feeling stiff and sullen. I am proud of the work my students are doing, impressed by their ability to remain engaged in learning despite distractions and difficulties, but I hate talking to a machine, watching a Zoom screen, missing the clues to comprehension I can catch when I'm surrounded by students in a classroom. I miss the friction created by eager minds brushing up against each other in the classroom, the energy produced by proximity, serendipity, and chance. Distancing dampens the energy, reducing opportunities for spontaneous discovery. In front of a classroom, I can be flexible, nimble, agile, engaging, and rigorous without any strain at all; by comparison, online learning feels stiff, stale, sterile, and stilted.
Maybe I just need to improve my online teaching skills, to prepare more competently for what may come in the fall, in which case our administration is on the ball, planning all sorts of training over the summer for those of us who may need help. Maybe I can become more flexible, nimble, and agile without sacrificing engagement and rigor, but it's going to take a ton of preparation, and as one of my colleagues pointed out, "We can make all the plans in the world, but the virus may have other plans."
If nothing else, this plague promises to give us all a whole-body workout.
1 comment:
I don't even know WHAT to plan for the fall. I don't want to do all the work of planning an effective online course if it turns out that we're going to have class in person after all.
I think I'll just wait until August to do anything.
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