Behind the scenes online

Yamanaka Tamaki: seat at theater  (CC BY-NC-ND 4.0)

Since the semester began my days have been a blur of office work, proofreading and translations, and my online course. Note these are three separate categories: proofreading and translating has always been a side gig (only it used to be in addition to teaching) and now the online course is a side gig too. Although… if you were to go by the financial compensation, I’m not sure if it qualifies as an actual job or a hobby. The main reason I’ve hung on to it for now is that my office job isn’t permanent and maybe more importantly, I couldn’t imagine not doing any teaching. Period.

I finally have a bit of time to blog without feeling like there is something else I really should be doing (or at least feeling too much like there is something else… you get the idea) so I thought I would tell you what it’s like to run an online course that’s in its tenth iteration. More specifically, what this involves on part of the instructor.

First things first – the course needs a thorough overhaul. Its glory days (when it won an award) are long gone and it is scary how quickly material dates. By this I mean, for instance, the visuals I did back in 2013 (and which it must be said had a distinctly amateurish air even then) really need to go. We’ll see if and when this is going to happen: my feeling is that if I continue to teach next year and if it’s online, the course will need to be revamped.

Regardless, you might think that if all the material is up there, there isn’t much for the instructor to do. A quick reminder for those who may be new to the blog – this is a 4-month course run entirely in Moodle apart from the introductory two weeks and the final exam, which take place in a classroom environment. The course comprises 8 units, all of which take roughly 10 days, plus a revision unit at the end. If you’re thinking, no, she cannot do math, don’t forget the 2 offline weeks plus another 10-day orientation period online.

Moodle

At the start of the semester, I copy the course materials from last year into a new course. I always forget exactly how to do this; it’s not terribly complicated but it’s been a year since I last did it and it could be a tad more intuitive. What actually gets copied (in my case) is everything but the student interactions. Specifically, this means that a forum, for example, will be copied but it won’t have any contributions, including the opening post(s), which are generally mine.

Each unit is made visible to the students when the last one is over (which, I can’t resist saying, means it’s not a self-paste course – those who saw that tweet yesterday will know what I mean 😛 ). Fast finishers need to wait. It’s easier on the instructor insofar as I don’t need to go through all the units at once in September. Before I unhide each one, I read all the materials again and adapt anything that needs adapting. I realize this is vague. For instance, last year there was quite a bit of adaptation because the course was delivered in blended format, so several chapters had to be hidden and as a result the text in the remaining ones had to be rendered coherent overall and not as if something was obviously missing in between. This year a lot of the stuff that was left out has gone back in.

There’s usually something new in most units, like two years ago I redid all the screencasts which had previously been on Present.me – which I have no idea if anyone uses anymore – using Screencastomatic and uploaded them to YouTube (which I should’ve done in the first place) and added subtitles/captions – what’s it called if it’s in the same language but doesn’t include stuff like *door closes* or *phone rings*? Incidentally, that *will* happen as you’re recording, but I digress. This year I made some new visuals in Canva – okay, one so far and am planning to make more for the next unit – and I created punctuation quizzes using the cloze test question type. I was very excited about this because I learned how to do it on a course in June and … well, I was mainly excited by the fact that I was able to still figure it out in November.

I then check if the external links all still work and make sure that any activity that requires student interaction is set up properly, like add opening posts to forum discussions, links to new Padlet walls, and instructions to new wikis. Then when I’m sure we’re good to go, I add the deadline to the course calendar. I usually set one day aside when I have a couple of hours and do this for each unit.

In the meantime, while the students are working on the unit before the one I’m finishing up (the last one they can see), I keep an eye on what is going on – the pace they’re progressing at, if there’s someone who hasn’t logged on for a while and needs to be contacted, and deal with any questions. Ideally, I will also be grading and giving feedback, and have written a post about how this can be done more quickly and effectively.

Mahara

When the course is run online as opposed to blended delivery, there’s a learning journal component as well. I have written about this previously and continue to get a lot of help from my assistant moderators (usually graduate students). What I do here in terms of setting things up is limited to the beginning of the course when we need a new group that everyone can join and share their journals in a safe environment. We could argue whether the journals should be private or not; right now the course is designed so that they can be read and commented on by anyone in the group. I’m free to read student reflections and respond if I want to, or if I think a post needs responding to – not always the same thing.

Facebook

This isn’t mandatory if you run a Moodle course, obviously, but I have been using it for communication with the assistant mods. I like the option of having a private group and getting feedback on whether the mods have seen a post – normally this isn’t a problem as they are very prompt to respond – but the puppet master in me likes to think she’s got it all under control. Like the Mahara component, this requires less time as the course progresses, and mostly involves letting the mods know if an activity is coming up I’m hoping they’ll contribute to. This is defined beforehand, so the mods know at the start of the semester how much work they’ll be required to do. Of course, other questions crop up, usually to do with particular students and issues they might have experienced, and how the mods should respond.

That’s more or less it. I’m happy to be able to say that even in the tenth semester I still very much enjoy running the course and there’s always a rush of excitement when people start joining, getting to know the environment and finding their way around. As opposed to almost 5 years ago, a lot more instructors use Moodle at the institution now and so the students will generally be familiar with it, but mostly as a content repository and/or a place to submit assignments. I *am* looking forward to designing something quite new though.

Do you find that there’s a point at which an online course needs a makeover and what does that depend on?

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Copy and paste for teachers

Photo taken from ELTpics by @mk_elt, (CC BY-NC 2.0)

Last week I finally got started on grading and feedback in the latest iteration of my writing skills online course, and thought I’d do a brief post on my comment bank. Note to self: see if you can come up with a catchier title than “My comment bank”.

Last summer I was listening to an episode of the Professional Adjunct podcast, in which the hosts, Beth and Jim, discuss an article called “Ten Tips for More Efficient and Effective Grading”, originally published on Faculty Focus. I’m not a regular subscriber to this podcast, but the couple of episodes I’ve listened to have addressed various aspects of teaching online – the asynchronous kind, which I do.

When they got to point 2 – comment banks – I remember it only then dawned on me that I had in fact been creating a comment bank for a few semesters without having expressly set out to do so, or even realizing that was what I’d been doing. I mean, I teach English. I’ve used coursebooks with text banks in the back of the TB, so the concept is familiar. And yet the idea of a comment bank came as a surprise – not the I-didn’t-think-anyone-else-had-come-up-with-this kind of surprise, but more of an oh-I-have-something-like-that-who-knew kind.

I find this type of resource especially useful for asynchronous online contexts or whenever you need to give feedback on work submitted electronically. Once you’ve designed a course in an LMS that covers a whole semester, it’s likely to maintain a more or less similar structure for at least a couple of semesters. For instance, there will be a discussion forum in unit 1 – it may differ in terms of the reading the students need to do to take part, or in terms of the opening post – but they’ll still be taking part in a discussion and you’ll probably want to give them a grade and feedback on that.

I originally used to add comments under headings like “Unit 1, discussion 1” to a Word document, but after a while I switched to Google Docs as I can access the bank across devices. This morning, for example, I had an hour to kill on campus, so I used the office computer to add feedback – pretty convenient.

I have a rubric for each activity that I give feedback on, so if it’s a discussion, I’m looking for a minimum number of posts, minimum number of words per post, participation by deadline, relevance to topic – this is not in order of importance – and so I will usually first comment on how successfully the student has followed the rubric. This can be taken straight from the comment bank and requires minimal adaptation. Then, if there is anything specific to a particular student that I would like to address, I will add a personalized comment. I tend to end with suggestions on what to watch out for in the next discussion, and these are often from the comment bank as well, since they come up more often than you might expect. A case in point would be encouraging them to run a spell check on their posts and pointing them to a resource we have in the course where they can find more information on how to do that, should they need to.

A more recent addition to the comment bank has been marking sections of the text in different colors for convenience. There are at least 5 or 6 comments that I will be using and/or building on for an activity, so it’s far easier to find my way around if each is a different color. I wish I could say I was color coding them – it sounds more organized – but it’s nothing as sophisticated as that; I just mark them in different color so each comment stands out from the ones above and below.

So that’s it, really. It’s a significant timesaver, relatively simple to do – okay, it does take up a bit of time the first time around, but you’ll be tweaking it every semester anyway, so it doesn’t need to be perfect – and is very convenient if you’re doing your grading via an LMS. Plus I think it makes me look at student work more objectively and fairly, although that may just be wishful thinking.

Do you use a comment bank? Any tips you’d like to share? I’m particularly interested if anyone uses anything similar in a classroom environment.

It’s been a good (online) year

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Thanks to everyone who was part of this – I couldn’t have done it alone!

Last week I somewhat unexpectedly spent a couple of days in Zagreb. I say unexpectedly because I hadn’t planned on going back before the end of the winter semester, which is in early February at my institution.

Rewind to sometime in September, when I sent in my application form for the Online Course of the Year Award at the University of Zagreb. My students can testify to the fact that I’d been hinting I would do this since last November. Last year’s winter semester was the first time I had taught practically the entire course online, and was so pleased and encouraged at the way it had turned out – the way I’d been able to handle the instructional design and tech-related issues, the way the students had responded – that I thought I might as well apply and see where it would get me (us). At the very least, I figured I would get some useful feedback.

Despite this, I procrastinated with completing the application form to the point of finding myself hunched over my laptop at 1 am on the morning of the deadline. I guess it was probably part procrastination and part trepidation at the thought of someone from the outside going through the course and passing judgment. It’s like being observed, only with a really bright flashlight and a magnifying glass. And for more than 45 minutes.

I was assigned a panel of five judges, who were given login details so they could access the course, and one day in October a webinar was organized whereby I could present the course to the panel and answer their questions. In early November I was notified that Writing in English had won one of the three awards given this year – the one for the use of web 2.0 tools (or social software). To put this into perspective I should note that there were around 3,000 courses registered in Merlin (Zagreb University’s Moodle-based LMS) at the beginning of the current academic year. This may seem like a pretty big number, but either the majority of the course designers/tutors are uninterested in awards, or find the application process a hassle, because only 11 applied. Perhaps they missed the deadline? Anyway, in addition to having your hard work publicly recognized and praised, which is no bad thing, there is also a cash prize – not a sum that means I’ll never have to work again, but not entirely insignificant either.

I was thrilled to learn the good news, but it then turned out that the award ceremony would be held in Zagreb in December, and I was expected to show up. I was also expected to give a short presentation of the course on the day, and to record the presentation so it would be available on the website afterwards. That’s in Croatian, and can be found here.

The ceremony took place at the Zagreb University Rectorate, in a room which looks a bit like I’ve always imagined Dumbledore’s office – lined with portraits of rectors past.

It was all right. I’m not exactly a fan of presenting, but have found that I can create a credible impression of knowing what I am talking about if I write down the text accompanying the slides ahead of time – complete with jokes/anecdotes and functional phrases, just as if I were transcribing my talk – and then rehearse. I never memorize it word for word, of course, but I feel confident enough, which makes all the difference. Plus I find that I don’t keep looking back afterwards, thinking, “Drat, I should have said this and that and the other”.

I’ve been thanking a lot of people over the past couple of weeks. My institution for giving me the opportunity to design and run a Moodle course. The University of Zagreb Computing Centre for helping me solve tech dilemmas. My students for enthusiastically (for the most part) taking part in the activities. My colleagues for their unflagging support. Friends and family ditto. But I realize there’s one group of people I haven’t said thank you to, and I really want to – because they taught me so much about Moodle. I did the first official Moodle MOOC in September 2013. I think a key factor was that it came along at just the right time for me; I wasn’t a complete novice, but knew just enough to feel challenged and not overwhelmed. It was a fantastic experience. The tutors and the more experienced Moodlers who unreservedly shared their tips and advice will never know how much I learned from them – unless they read this, obviously. 🙂 Anyway, they’re running the same MOOC the second time around this coming January and I couldn’t recommend it more highly.

And on that note, I’ll finish off and return to the feedback and grading I’m shamefully behind on, partly as a result of the whole award hoopla. Looking forward to the break, I can tell you.