“The most successful students we spoke with saw themselves as active constructors of and participants in their own academic taskscapes.”Smale and Regalado, Digital Technology as Affordance and Barrier in Higher Education
The work of Smale and Regalado predates COVID. Yet, in this week that marks a year since life moved online, their work feels relevant as a spark for reflecting on how we teachers did, and what we do next. What’s our takeaway a year into this confrontation of an urgent, terrifying crisis? What have we learned over the course of a yearlong series of heartbreaking tradeoffs?
The relevance of last week’s quote to this week’s reading is clear enough to me: Institutions and their educational technologies of choice rarely imagine students as “participants” or “constructors” of taskscapes, but consumers.
Once or twice in the last twelve months, I suspect you’ve encountered (or embodied) this through the figure of a less-than-agile participant in “emergency remote teaching” (Hodges, Moore, Lockee, Trust, Bond). Those of us teaching in those early days recognized quickly—and hopefully reminded ourselves, kindly and often—that the “triage” nature of this shift “exclude[d] the possibility of excellence” (Young). As we might discuss in class, educational technology sometimes had a role in that exclusion, too.
So that’s a hot take on a thread connecting these readings to our last set. One thread within the readings I’d like to underscore is about grief. COVID, for its ghastly death toll, has also created countless “missing” everyday moments, more modest griefs: a professor missing the way physical heads nodding along (or not) to a lesson shaped her teaching for the better (McMurtrie); a student who has realized how “[b]asketball really helped my depression, and I can’t play it now” (Ferlazzo); the City College campus counselor forced to fit into one, weekly 30-minute Zoom call the essential check-ins with colleagues that happened between appointments over five days in 90-second increments (Ayisire). Those losses are real—”minor feelings” are feelings nonetheless—and grieving the fact that certain experiences may never come back will take the candid work of a whole campus, and the meaningful participation of the communities beyond its gates.
Taskscapes; trauma; care; equity. Throw in “uncertainty” and that gives us about the range of topics that any talk about teaching in this time entails. Below are some questions along those lines, which draw on these readings to process what has been, to recall what was before, to think about what could be—and to start articulating what we might use this new wisdom to fight to achieve.
- How can instructors (and, by extension, departments and institutions) fairly assess and equitably ameliorate “learning loss”? What’s a way to balance what really didn’t get learned with honest recognition of the deep trauma of our COVID year (Ciep, Ellis, Gluckman)?
- Related: What structures and practices can center student experiences and voices (c.f. Ferzallo) in determining the balance of intellectual and emotional loss in the administrative process of assessment and the pedagogical process of its (partial) amelioration? And how can instructors using care-based, trauma-informed methods also make space for students who, legitimately, just want to move on, catch up, and get on with things?
- What’s the role of technology, particularly “enterprise” solutions, in short-term or even one-time fixes (ie: access to course content via a smartphone, or holding an office hour over Zoom)? How do/did/will individual instructors, departments, and institutions balance the benefit of these convenient but corporate tools (looking at you, Google Drive) in supporting “valuable human relationships—relationships necessary for child development” (Watters)?
- Related: In your field, what tools are less focused on “watching, monitoring, and controlling” and more focused on deepening those relationships and extending the relational into a content area–an intellectual tradition and its ways of making knowledge or a professional field and its ethics and practices?
- Many, many P-12 students will arrive at CUNY campuses with existing digital literacy around “enterprise technology.” To what extent is an explicit conversation about data privacy, affordances, design, and epistemology appropriate to be part of the college students’ general digital literacy education? How can this be done without discounting the value of that literacy?
- What are the “affordances” of the extended look into P-12 classrooms that families, especially Black families, have gotten into the minute-by-minute pedagogy of their children’s lives? If the cinder block buildings with un-opening windows that typify public school construction felt unsafe physically (as Farah Despeignes suggests) and if “many Black parents still see the education system as punitive” (Shapiro, Green, Kim, emphasis mine), then how can the thoughtful critiques of engaged, observant parents reshape that learning in a participatory way? (I emphasize her ‘still’ to note that inequities go way back in the NYC schools; see Nice White Parents, etc). What are the mechanisms for communities to be involved in such technology centered school reforms, and what role might colleges like CUNY have in supporting it?
- Related, but speculative: Speaking recently with the Times’ Ezra Klein, the surgeon general of California Dr. Nadine Burke Harris noted that COVID has caused directly or indirectly level of childhood trauma difficult to quantify but certain to impact this generation for years to come: shaping social interaction, affecting long-term, health, shortening life spans. Given that: How do college instructors consider this interruption on childhood development in the adults these children become?
- Bonus: The “heir conditioner” (B. F. Skinner Qtd in Watters). No question here, just…discuss.
Note/Nudge/Poke/Plea: I really like blogs as conversation starters so I purposely kept this as short as I could. (I know, it’s not that short. Short for an English doctoral student though?) I also posted it as soon as I felt like it was ready to go. (Paul Hollywood might still call it underbaked). Anyway, I’d love to hear short replies back from people any time on Sunday. Even 200 of your lovely words will feel to me like I am basking in warm sunshine! A paragraph? Didn’t Strunk & White call the paragraph is the basic unit of composition? (Spoiler: They did). Seriously, I’m excited to see y’all (hey Texas!) respond to literally whatever in this you find, uh, provocative.
4 thoughts on “Provocation: On More Modest Grief”
Tim, you have offered me a lot to think about! What stands out to me is the question about “how can instructors using care-based, trauma-informed methods also make space for students who, legitimately, just want to move on, catch up, and get on with things?”
Reading this question, I wondered if this means that trauma-informed care in teaching is exclusive of students who just want to move on. I see this circumstance as both/and meaning that trauma-informed practices also makes space for individual student-centeredness. And I think the same can be said about instructors who may require more care and those who just want to get it done, make it happen, and make it work by any means even high demand unrealistic situations and ERT as highlighted Hodges et al.. Trauma-informed pedagogy recognizes that the experience of trauma is unique to the individual and so are coping and protective strategies. So, a student who just wants to move on, catch up, etc. during these times could truly just be fine (totally unimpacted but I am not sure how that’s possible) or it could be the way they are coping with these circumstances. Some students have just had to make it work no matter what even when things are undoubtedly tough and need permission to not just keep it moving. Permission not be to resilient. Also, trauma-informed pedagogy recognizes resilience – not just “what’s happening with this student” but also “what’s right with this student” who just wants to move on. It could be coping with the impact of trauma/grief or it could be resilience. Both fit into trauma-informed practice. From this, as instructors, we can gain vicarious resilience. Thanks for inspiring this point of reflection. I had not considered this connection in my independent reading.
These threads on trauma-informed pedagogy from Miranda Fedock at the GCTLC may be of interest to this discussion:
Thanks for this wonderful expansion on what trauma-based pedagogy entails. It’s a term I’m still wrapping my head around and I learned a lot from this reply. In particular, I really appreciate your focus on “deficit” thinking and the pathologizing gaze. I agree with your point that if the content of trauma is engaged in a classroom, but if the dominant mode is still deficit-oriented (ie: “learning loss”), then the engagement with the trauma risks not being restorative at all, but rather re-traumatizing. The classic example from first-year writing would be the literacy narrative that a student works hard on and makes themselves vulnerable for, which they receive a B- on due to missing citations and run-on sentences. How is that paper and the consequent revisions to it / lessons learned from it differently received in a classroom where contract grading, or collaborative rubrics, or other antiracist teaching practices like the invitation to use translanguaging are part of the conversation?
I always find your “hot takes” engaging, and feel that they give me a solid point of entry to the material. Starting with your assessment of how we structure these virtual landscapes to allow students to be active participants in their education. In recent weeks, I’ve been attempting to ask my students questions about they want our class to run: do you want a break-out room or do you want to have a poll? Do you want to have a discussion on this concept before your quiz or after? I feel that in the grand scheme of things, these choices make little difference in the course overall, but they allow the students to have some level of agency. Though sometimes I worry some student may think I’m unprofessional or unsure of what I am doing.
“To what extent is an explicit conversation about data privacy, affordances, design, and epistemology appropriate to be part of the college students’ general digital literacy education? How can this be done without discounting the value of that literacy?” This question really has me thinking. As a goal of mine has been to encourage people to understand that data in science has bias, and that we have to critically think about what is being concluded from the data and whether we should agree, that different scientists may interpret data differently as we all have unique, valuable perspectives. I worry that some people may take this to the point of not trusting scientists, and having the exact OPPOSITE effect that I intend to have. How do we find the balance of, for lack of a better metaphor, teaching people how the sausage gets made and also get them to enjoy eating it? How can you teach people about a corrupted digital world and also tell them they should be active participants?
Sorry for the late post 🙁