Thursday, December 20, 2018

eLearning and Identity

A week or so ago...well...maybe two weeks by now♣, the topic of eLearning 3.0 was identity, and the video guest of the week was Maha Bali.  I finally managed to view all of it, even though it was in 10 minute increments. My Pocket's save-for-later is getting rather lengthy now that I am saving articles on the daily to read at some other future time. This time of the semester is rather busy, so I guess that's my disclaimer for this post: I am only commenting on the video and points that were brought up.

In looking at the notes I took during the vConnecting session during week 4 (mid-way through the MOOC!) there are a few organizing factors that sort of came to me, so I've organized the post in this manner.

What's in a name?
At the beginning of the conversation Stephen had a bit of a hard time getting the native pronunciation of Maha's name. It's interesting to kick off a discussion about identity in such a mundane way, but I think that the concept of a name is quite powerful, on many levels.  Often times names are given to us and we have no control over them. My name for example was given to me by my parents and godparents. There is a particular nickname given to me in grade 4 that I really only use in the company a certain close-knit group of friends from that time in my life.  Other times we choose our names, case in point the username that you chose for your email address, that forum you joined, or your xbox gamertag. Those names we choose for ourselves usually have a story behind them. I would venture to say that stories are associated with names, and (my hypothesis is that) no two names share the same origin story. The multiple names that identify us - legal names, user names, nicknames - are to some fashion a pointer device for some aspect of our multifaceted identity.

Seeing as most languages are spoken, how one says someone else's name is also important. When I moved back to the states only my language teachers (French, ESL, and English) could correctly pronounce my given name without correction. No surprise there, I suspect that they (being language teachers) had a sense of how different languages have different rhythms and cadences.  Early on I adopted "AK" (there's a story there), as well as the English pronunciation of "Apostolos"† (minor eye roll, but whatever) as synonyms for Απόστολος. Many Greek Americans (second or third generation usually) also attempted to call me Paul, which didn't really carry much favor with me. Paul is another name entirely. I suspect that someone, at some point, probably at Ellis Island decided that an Apostolos would be a Paul in English, and newly arriving immigrants just adopted for a variety of reasons. Paul is an identity marker that I rejected right off the bat simply because Paul ain't my name, and Greek Americans should be able to say Απόστολος, no? 😛


What about the things we studied?
Stephen asked if there is an identification with the institutional affiliation, and how important that was as part of one's own identity. And, in relation to that the discussion flowed toward our identities as learners and how those are connected to the institutions that were part of our learning experiences‡. This gave me pause to ponder.  As far as my educational experiences (in higher education) go I have two institutions: UMass Boston, and Athabasca University.  While I've made many connections at both of these institutions; connections to people, places, knowledge, and experiences, I don't really think of myself as a "Beacon" (the UMB mascot).  I am wondering if part of this is cultural.  I do see a lot of people with academic paraphernalia (mugs, hats, cups, sweaters, flags) from their alma matters,  but this isn't something that appears to be of importance to me.  Now, granted I have (over the years) had mugs, hats, and sweaters from UMB...and a coffee mug from AU that I've used so much that it's falling apart, but I really don't know if those things were gone if I'd miss them, and hence seek out a replacement.  The institutions that have played a role in our education have certainly helped to shape us into who we are, but as far as identity goes, what do those various physical objects that we keep say about us in the end? Is it about the institution itself? Or about the individual who gifted the item to us?♠ 

Relating to the institution is what we studied. In one of the past vConnecting sessions I was part of, when we were socializing before starting the recording, Maha had made an observation that a number of us (me included) had started off as computer scientists for our undergraduate degrees, but have moved on from that field. My own learning journey has taken me into many twisting, turning, and branching areas of knowledge; and while I ultimately chose Education as the field for my doctoral work, the previous fields I've studied are still elements of curiosity for me, and I would say inform my day-to-day work.  Over the past number of years I've wanted to get back into coding, partly because I thought that this is what computer scientists do. I was thinking to myself: well, how can I call myself a computer scientist if I don't code.  Maybe I am a "lapsed" computer scientist? Nah, that sounds too negative, after all I still use a lot of the knowledge gained through that course of study to understand the world now, so how can I be lapsed? Then came the aha moment:  Maha said something interesting - she said that she was a "Computer scientist who left the code behind".  This was a good definition of where I am.  I still consider myself a computer scientist, but I have no interest in coding at the moment (at least not for money or for my 9-to-5). What we study/ied has helped frame how we see the world, and how we interact with it, whether we like it or not; and we get to see connections between one domain of knowledge and another♦.


What about what we do?
Another strand of being and identity came from what we do (I assume this is professional or from our pastimes).  The question is do the things we do define us?  And if we stopped doing them would they still define us?  I think that what we do defines us to some extend, but not others.  For example, from a professional perspective, I've had a variety of job titles over the past 20 years at my institution (hard to believe it's been that long). While I am no longer performing the duties of a media services worker, or a library worker, or even an IT worker on a day to day basis, many of my colleagues who've known me  over the last two decades (who are still here) do reach out to me for Tech-y, IT-y, Instructional Design-y things that concern my department, even though many of those things are not in my formal job description.  The institution, by means of the people involved, remembers me and my skillset, and it's just natural for them to reach out to the person that they know to get things done.  Do I miss certain aspects of old jobs?  Sure.  Do I miss the old jobs? not really.  Would I miss my current job if I moved elsewhere?  Probably not.  I enjoy what I do, but it doesn't define me.  The relationships between people (faculty, staff, and students of my department) are what define my time here, and who I am (in relation to them) more than being the person who manages the various processes that need to happen for a department to run successfully.


Identity is like a tree
I am not sure if the heading is something I thought of while watching the video chat between Stephen and Maha, or if it's something they said.  Either way, I see identity as a tree. It's a complex organism. It has roots that are nurtured by what surrounds it.  It is impacted by the environment it's in, and it grows leaves and branches. Periodically it gets pruned as conditions change.



Miscellaneous Observations
academic identity
There was an interesting point that Maha brought up.  She indicated isn't all that up to speed with reading literature in her field in arabic.  Her academic identity is English (or in English? it's been a while since I took these notes). This was interesting in that I identify the same way.  My academic competence was developed in English (college and graduate school) and the last time I was in an academic environment where Greek was the language of instruction was in 8th grade. While I can read just fine (and I would like to expand my repertoire to read academic literature in my field in Greek), I do no consider myself fully bilingual when it comes to academic materials.  I can read and comprehend just fine, but writing academic materials in Greek isn't as easy as it is in English.

Despite the bumpy road with academic Greek, I've wanted to write in Greek, partly because it would potentially open the access to non-English speakers. However, when considering the fine time one has, the cost of such a transaction (time and effort spent), and the fact that it doesn't necessarily advance your academic career, you do have to pause and wonder whether your resources are spent well.  If translating your work to another language is a hobby - great.  Another thing that I consider, even for someone like me (who is on the fence about such a career), you want to be 'future proof' your career in a sense, so English makes the most sense as the primary language to publish in.

Finally, a big question that has come up♥  is who gets to call themselves an academic? While I do teach from time to time, that's not my day-job (I am a manager by title, administrator by function).  When I teach I am a lecturer even though I don't lecture, and I am never a professor even though some of my students address me with that title.  I do research and publish from time to time, but that's neither required nor rewarded from neither my part-time teaching gig, nor my day-job. While I do perform tasks in the three categories that many consider key categories in the work of an academic in the US∋, I am not generally considered an academic (and feel rather weird calling myself that).  I think Frances Bell and Jenny Mackness call themselves an Itinerant Scholar which sounds more appealing to me. While I do work in higher education, the noun academic doesn't feel welcoming as a title/descriptor.  At least in the US there seems to be a sharp distinction between faculty and staff (everyone not faculty). Faculty being more prestigious and at a higher tier than us lowly staff. Academic many times feels like a synonym for faculty, hence the oppression of the system I work in somehow makes claiming that title feel wrong - like you're an impostor. At the end of the day who gets to call themselves an academic?  Is it an endonym? or an exonym? What should it be?


personal brand
As much as I want this term to die out already, watching this interview I was left wondering where identity fits in with the concept of personal brand. Not sure what the answer is - maybe an entire discussion of its own.


On one of these days I need to do that identity graph 'assignment' :-)



-------------
Marginalia:
♣ OK, fine, it's been quite a while ago - been busy with other things ;-)
† emphasis to note where people mistakenly put the accent
‡ OK! OK! This is my extrapolation of the discussion in order to make this category. The discussion seemed much more interweaved with institutions and what we do in the discussion. Bear with me.
♠ In thinking about both the AU and UMB stuff I have, most have been gifts from mentors and colleagues. I have yet to buy something with my own money with the university logo on it.
♦ The lack of interconnection is something I actually see when I peer review journal submissions.  Many people tend to publish in their disciplinary journals, and only do their literature reviews in those domains of knowledge, even when they are writing about teaching and learning (e.g., a chemist, or management PhD writing about teaching online).  This leads to a lot of poor research writing because the lack of cross-disciplinary connections means that the people writing don't have a good understanding of the field they are writing about, and if they attempt to have an understanding it's often surface level. Just a random thought.
♥ as I re-read this blog post several weeks after I started it...
∋ Research, Teaching, and Service being those three categories. 

Thursday, November 15, 2018

Self-Control still difficult!

Attempt at witty title probably failed :-)

I guess I am a little rusty  with creating meaningful blog titles since I have not been blogging frequently recently.  Oh well. I will get back into the swing of things once I finish my EdD...or not... ;-)

In any case, I am catching up with #el30, more specifically last week's guest Ben Werdmuller (see recording here). Interesting fun fact - Ben is the creator of Elgg, which is the platform that Athabasca University's "Landing" runs on.

There were quite a few interesting things that came out of the conversation but there were two that really stuck out to me.  The first is that there was a strand of the conversation that dealt with taking back control of your online identity from the various platform providers, such as facebook, google, yahoo/verizon, twitter, and so on.  A lot of what we do, this blog inclusive, rests no someone else's platform.  If the platform decides to cease operation you lose not just your data, but also the connections that are based upon that data.  Take this blog for instance: If google decided to shut down blogger I could lose all of my posts going back to 2008 when I started doing education-related blogging.  I also lose the connections that I've made through this blog (other people linking to, or reacting to, my writing).  The same is true for things like twitter and facebook.  In some instances services allow you to download your data, but in my experience that's been quite messy in the past.  In most cases what I've gotten is a JSON formatted file (or set of files), and good luck importing that into somewhere where it's usable. If you're lucky you might get an offline viewer for your data.  For blogs I've had luck importing from Wordpress into Blogger and I assume that the converse is true (if google decided to shut down blogger.

I did chuckle a bit at Ben's comment that cPanel looks like something out of the 90s.  I do have a website that I maintain, and the design of it is done on RapidWeaver (MacOS application), export the HTML, and upload via FTP to the server.  The website is designed to pull data for a variety of sources, including Blogger.  When I have to go into cPanel I cringe a bit.  If I had a little more time on my hands I'd love to setup a Wordpress instance on my site but I know that I don't have enough time to really dive into it and migrate everything I have into something I control by myself (hence the title of this post: self-control still difficult).  There were other interesting ideas that came up, such as asymmetrical bandwidth issues, the ability to have access to domain-name registration, and even hosting.  So many threads to pull apart and dissect...and so little time.

The second strand that piqued my interest has to do with prototyping.  The discussion about designing prototypes, getting some user feedback, doing some more prototyping, getting some more user feedback and then coding something really brought me back to my senior year in undergraduate when I was taking a course in designing user interfaces (CS615).   There is a lot of discussion (it seems) these days about getting your hands dirty, and getting something done, but without prototyping something to get a sense of how your initial ideas and concepts work, you could end up trying to solve coding problems that you don't need to bother with anyway because the prototyping stage might indicate that you don't even need to go down that particular path. This also connected well with another comment made (paraphrased): There is no need to start with the universe (aka all the bells and whistles); start with the minimal viable solution.  This was, I feel, an important comment (and sentiment expressed) not just on software development, but on work in general.  I suppose a related sentiment that I've heard in the past: The perfect is the enemy of done. I've seen, over the years, lots of projects fail to even get started because people object over the fact that the new solution isn't at one-to-one parity with the old solution or it's just not perfect.  Many potentially interesting paths are never taken because the lack of perfection prevents people from even trying.

Anyway - those are my take-aways from last week.  Looking forward to viewing this week's recording with Maha, and reading some more unboundeq stuff, which I've seen on twitter over the past few months, but I have not had time to dive into it :)

Friday, November 2, 2018

Post-it found! the low-tech side of eLearning 3.0 ;-)

Greetings fellow three-point-oh'ers
(or is it just fellow eLearners?)

This past week in eLearning 3.0 (Week 2, aka 'the cloud'). This week's guest was Tony Hirsch, and what was discussed was the cloud, and specifically Docker.  Before I get into my (riveting) thoughts on the cloud, let me go back  to Week 0 (two weeks ago) and reflect a little on the thoughts I jotted down on my retrieved post-it note.

So, in the live session a couple of weeks ago (it's recorded if you want to go back and see it), Siemens said something along the lines of "what information abundance consumes is attention". This really struck me as both a big "aha!" as well as a "well, d'uh! why hadn't it occurred to me already? D'oh!". There has been a lot said over the past few years about how people don't read anymore (they skim), and how bad that is.  This ties into "what learners want" (a phrase I've heard countless times on-campus and off), and that tends to be bite-sized info, which leads us to the micro-learning craze.  While micro-learning, or bite-sized learning, has its place, it can't be the end-all-be-all of approaches to learning. When the RSS feed is bursting with around 1700 unread posts (my average day if I don't check it), the effort to really give 100% attention to each item is too much; and part of it is that full articles no longer come over RSS - it's just the title and perhaps the first 250 characters of the article if you're lucky, so the 'click to go to article' is a necessity if you want to read the full thing. Back in the day (ca. 2005) I could actually read most things because my unread count wasn't all that big.  So, as the abundance of data has become a reality, attention deficit seems like a natural connection to that.

Another thing that Siemens said was that before the "messiness of learning was viewed as a distraction from learning, whereas now the making sense part is the learning"  (paraphrased). This got me thinking about messiness and not-yet-ness. I agree that messy learning is what college (BA all the way to PhD) should be what learning is about, but how does that square with the mandates for learning outcomes and the measurability of those outcomes?  This is particularly pointed at the moment as this year one department I am affiliated with went through their 'academic quality' review, and my home department is going through ours in early 2019.  Messy works, but how do you sell it to the upper level admins? Also, how do you sell it to learners who have been enculturated into a transactional model of education?  I don't have the answers, but interesting points to ponder and discuss.

Now, on a more geeky or technical side:  Docker and the cloud.  As Stephen and Tony were discussing the cloud. This made me think of tinkering as learning, authentic learning, and the aforementioned messiness in learning.   We now have the technology that allows us to spin off fresh instances of a virtual machine that has specific configurations.  I've been able to do this on Virtual PC (back before microsoft bought them) on my mac for ages.  It was actually a lot of fun to find old versions of Windows, OS/2, NEXTSTEP, and other operating systems and play around with them on my Mac.  It was a great learning opportunity.  But, but wasn't scalable. As a tinkerer I could do this on my own machines, but I couldn't distribute easily.  Now, if I were teaching a course on (insert software), I could conceivably create the 'perfect' environment and have students be able to spin-up instances of that to be able to try things out without the need to install something locally; not sure what licensing looks like in this field, but let's assume it's 'easy' to deal with. Whereas in prior eLearning (elearning 2.0?) the best that we could do is limited simulations with Articulate, we can actually afford to let the learners loose on a real live running instance of what they are learning.  When they are done, they can just scrap the instance.  Even if you needed to run the instance for an entire semester non-stop (15 weeks), that would still only cost the learner around $80.  Not bad!  The best thing about this?  You can freely mess around, and if you break something (irreparably), start from scratch!

Anyway, those are my thoughts on this week on eLearning 3.0 - what are your AHA moments?

Friday, October 26, 2018

eLearning 3.0: How do I show my expertise?

With my dissertation proposal in the hands of my committee and off for review, I thought I'd participate in a MOOC while I wait to hear back.  Yes, I do have some articles that have piled up (which may be of use to my dissertation), but I thought I'd be a little more social (lurk a little, post a little).  The funny thing is that as soon as I lamented the lack of cMOOCs...there it was, eLearning 3.0 popped up on my twitter feed...and a few Greek colleagues invited me to one in a Moodle. I guess the universe provided for me.

Anyway - I had listened to both the intro video (week 0?) as well at the Downes & Siemens chat (Week 1 & 2) and I had jotted down a few things that piqued my interest...but of course I left them in the office. I guess I'll be blogging about those next week.  The freshest thing in my mind is the chat about xAPI and the LRS (Learning Records Store). In all honesty this went a little over my head. I think I need to read a little more about the xAPI and this whole ecosystem, but the LRS is described as enabling "modern tracking of a wide variety of learning experiences, which might include capturing real world activities, actions completed in mobile apps or even job performance. Data from these experiences is stored in the LRS and can be shared with other systems that offer advanced reporting or support adaptive learning experiences"

This got me thinking about the onus (read: hassle) of tracking down your learning experiences as a learner. I also credit a tweet I read this morning about credentialing, by Donna Lanclos, that really connects well with this. As a learner I don't really care about tracking my own learning experiences. I participate in a learning experience, be it a workshop, a webinar, a course of study, doing research on a paper to be published or presented, or even sustained interaction in a common topic across my PLN.  I enter the learner experience because there is something I want to learn. It can be a simple thing (e.g., how to  unscrew the case to my PC tower to install more RAM), or something more complicated (e.g., getting prepared for a social media strategy for your organization). Few people enter a learning experience just to get a credential†. However, it's the credential that opens doors, be they doors to a promotion, to a new job, or even an opportunity to be part of an exciting new project. So, it seems necessary that we, as learners and professionals, document all this in a way.  The problem is that it's a hassle. There are two big issues here:
(1) What to track (i.e., what's relevant)
(2) Where to track it?

Both issues, very predictably, are answered with "it depends".  What to track depends on the context. You can track everything, but not everything tracked is used in all potential instances where credentialing information is needed. For example, most common things tracked are your college degrees.  This is fairly easy to track because most of us have a small countable number of them (1-3 I'd estimate). However this doesn't necessarily show growth and increasing expertise as a professional.  So we delve deeper.  Just taking myself as an example here are some learning opportunities that I have been part of over the past few years (some offer certificates or badges, some do not):  MOOCs, week-long workshops, day long workshops, conferences, professional development webinars, self-paced elearning, required workshops on campus (e.g., campus compliance, purchasing, etc.), masters and doctoral degree programs, virtually connecting sessions, and so on. Each format is different.  Some have assessments, some do not. Some are mandatory, some are not. They all contribute to my knowledge of my field.

Tracking is another issue.  Where do I track things?  There are many places.  I have a resume - which is out of date, and I can't even find the word document any longer... I have a CV in Word format which I created this year for work purposes, there is LinkedIn, there is ORCID, and there are document repository networks like Mendeley, ResearchGate, Academia.edu, Scribd, and SlideShare; in addition to places where you can help folks with their questions, like Quora for instance. There is goodreads to track what you read. There are places to also track your digital badges, like the Open Badge backpack. I had once actually joined a free service, whose name escapes me at the moment, that was so granular that it could track articles you read - you tagged them with specifics (e.g., elearning, instructional design, online learning), and the service would add 'credit' to your profile for those things★.

So as to not belabor the point, over the years I've come across a variety of learning situations where I've had learning experiences.  Some with a nice shiny certificate at the end, others with just warm fuzzy feelings of accomplishment. How do we automate this multiple-in, multiple-out process so that we can actually track things with more precision, but also have the ability to spit out as many customizable reports as we can for credentialing purposes?  I don't know about you, but I find myself not having enough time to document everything, and I certainly don't keep things like CVs, resumes, and my LinkedIn profile updated frequently.  I think this will be one key challenge in eLearning 3.0.

Thoughts?



Marginalia:
† well, it's my hypothesis that most people enter a learning experience for the learning and not just the certificate/diploma/badge that comes at the end. I do know that there are people like that around, but I think they are not the majority.
★ Tracking every Chronicle and IHE article I read got tired pretty quick - I read too many articles in a day to really make manual input a feasible thing. I  dis-enrolled from that social service within a few days ;-)

Monday, October 22, 2018

Bat-signal for an External Committee Member!

Well, my proposal (basically half my dissertation) is off to the internal members of my committee. Many thanks go to the help of my doctoral supervisors who've asked a lot of questions of my previous drafts and helped me refine my writing :-)

Now the next step (assuming the committee likes my submitted draft) is to both find an external reviewer for this, and also defend it so that I can move onto the next phase: data collection and analysis.

Where do you come in? I need recommendations for an external member to my committee :-) If we've worked together in the past 5 years you would not be eligible to be on the committee, but if you know people who might be good, let me know :-)



Requirements for external committee member

Retrieved from: http://fgs.athabascau.ca/handbook/doctoral/candidacy.php
Also committee member criteria: http://fgs.athabascau.ca/handbook/doctoral/supervisors_and_committee_members.php

  • At least one of the new members must be at arm’s length from the student and the proposal development <-- external="" li="">
  • be active in the general area of the student's research
  • have a tenured (or tenure track) faculty appointment
    • If no tenure track person is identified, there is an 'other' category that the Faculty of Graduate Studies could approve. See the link for details. 
  • hold a degree equivalent to or higher than that for which the student is a candidate (
  • demonstrate continuing scholarly or creative activity of an original nature as defined in item 3.7.3.b. of the AUFA Collective Agreement.
  • The proposed examination committee members must meet the eligibility criteria, and must not be in a position of conflict of interest (direct link to AU policy: http://ous.athabascau.ca/policy/humanresources/150_002.pdf 

My proposal details

(to better inform any recommendations you might have :) )

Title: Factors influencing the initiation and sustained engagement in collaboratives working outside MOOC parameters: an exploratory mixed methods case study

Abstract: This dissertation research will explore the factors for which individuals in an open educational environment choose to create, or join, collaboratives that produce certain mutually agreed-upon deliverables, and the factors that sustain individuals’s through this collaborative endeavor. As such, some of these factors may deal with characteristics and experiences that define such collaboratives, and what members of these collaboratives perceive as a gain from their involvement from such collaborative endeavors. The approach to research this topic will be an explanatory parallel mixed methods case study design that will initially explore quantitative results from the Community of Inquiry instrument as well as qualitative results gathered from an open-ended survey.  Survey participants will be invited to participate in subsequent interviews in order to explore the question in more depth. A better understanding of why such collaboratives form, and what sustains them, might provide clues as to how such collaborative formations may encouraged, or nurtured, in online learning.



Thank you in advance for your help in identifying potential externals :-)



Saturday, July 28, 2018

Community of Inquiry: TeachING not teachER presence

Hey there blogger audience! Well, I assume someone is still there despite not having blogged in a great while. It's hard to believe that July is almost over, and there is only one more month of summer left (😢). Things have been fairly busy, between teaching INSDSG 684, doing a much (much) deeper dive into the CoI, and rewriting my intro chapter for the dissertation proposal†, there has been little time to blog.  Or rather, I guess I could have blogged, but due to my disconnect from my regular communities of practice, nothing really seemed worthwhile writing about.  Until now!

So, back when I was initially contemplating my dissertation topic I thought I'd do a mixed methods research study, possibly with the CoI instrument as that quantitative component.  I nixed that idea early on because I honestly thought that I would get someone who's a stickler for the notion that Quantitative must equal generalizability, and I know that from my sample (even if everyone participates), generalizability isn't attainable. Good description is, but not generalizability.  So I switched to to qualitative-only.  After a good discussion with one of my co-supervisors (where my fears were put to rest 😊) the issue of the CoI came up again (not by me).  This was the third time CoI was brought up (first by me, then by one co-supervisor in 2017, then another in in 2018). I figured that it would be worthwhile to pursue mixed methods again‡.

The next big decision was which elements of CoI to measure for our rhizocollabs.  Social (✓), Cognitive (✓), Teaching (?) How about some of the proposed extensions (?). Social and Cognitive seemed like a no brainer.  TeachING presence, defined as "the design, facilitation, and direction of cognitive and social processes for the purpose of realizing personally meaningful and educational worthwhile learning outcomes"♠ seems important as a coordinating function, and it emphasizes the doing not the doer so measuring some aspect of coordination in these collaboratives (be they "swarms" or not) seems important.  Garrison and others also point out (many, many, times) that it's teachING presence, not teachER presence, and students can exhibit such teachING presence as well in a CoI.  But, when one looks at the CoI survey instrument all questions regarding the teachING presence focus on the instructor. Hmmmmm😖. When you do transcript analysis I can see being able to identify instances of teaching presence amongst non-instructor members of a CoI, but the instrument seems to focus a ton on the instructor.  I've decided to try to measure teaching presence in our collaborations, but I'll be tweaking the CoI instrument questions in this category to be more group oriented rather than teacher and instructional design related.

Between the notes from the articles I read, and the notes from books on CoI, I've got around 40 pages of notes.  Over the next week or so I'll go over them and write a draft of the CoI section for my literature review.  Once I get the all-clear from my co-supervisors for my intro chapter it's full steam ahead to tweak the literature review, which is gargantuan.

Onwards and upwards!




Marginalia:
† I managed to trim five whole pages from the intro chapter while adding, what I hope is, much more detail about what I'd like to do.
‡ Hence the intro re-write, and the much deeper dive into CoI. I am actually glad this happened because through reading more of Garrison's work there is a connection between collaboration & CoI.
See here for more on TP.

Tuesday, May 15, 2018

Groups, cooperatives, collaboratives, swarms...and the ongoing dissertation proposal...

It's been quite a while since I last shared a few thoughts.  I guess time flies even if you aren't having fun 😆. In the past few weeks I've been contemplating the direction of my dissertation proposal.  I am not changing topics (now THAT would be silly, and an unnecessary amount of work), but I am considering the framing of my argument.  The topic (just to refresh your mind) is "Why do we collaborate?" and it's an exploration of the emergent groups that formed in Rhizo14 and rhizo15 to conduct some sort of academic work in order to figure out why we did this (after all, everyone hates group work, right??? 😜) This academic work wasn't part of the original Rhizo-course plan†, so why the heck did we band together to do this type of work?

The question, I should point out (again) wasn't originally mine - I just took an interest in it.  Rebecca H. had originally asked this question of our MobiMOOC team back in 2011/2012 - but we all went (sort of) our separate ways and we just hadn't explored it in depth at the time; and this seemed like a good question for dissertation research (and I found it interesting, so it checked off that internal motivation box), and there were enough people in Rhizos collaborating in groups that made for a viable case study.

Now, one of my stumbling blocks has been terminology. I started off calling what we did (in our various groups) a 'collaboration'.  But, collaboration has certain specific connotations.  Was it really collaboration?  Or did I just see what we did (and what others did, for groups I wasn't part of) as collaboration?  Is a "swarm" different from collaboration? Or is it a specific type of collaboration? It should also be noted that not all work was 'swarmed'.  Part way through this gargantuan proposal I started replacing collaboration with group work, which seems more value neutral than collaboration, this way as part of the research I can see how different people perceived the joint-effort we/they accomplished as somewhere on the 'working together' spectrum.    Is there a word that is value neutral (or mostly value neutral) that rolls off the tongue that means "3 or more people working together on a common goal"?

But I still have a little trouble with the term "group work".  For me it harkens back to school days where teachers put us in groups to do something together that wasn't always of interest to the learner, and people were placed in a situation where they had to work together but it was just awkward (my experiences in the rhizo work didn't feel awkward).   Is the term "team work" more appropriate? Is it more value neutral?  A team may be more self forming...maybe...but it also reminds me of the artificial aspects of corporate 'teams' where work gets done (I think), but there really isn't much camaraderie.  In my experience there was camaraderie in the collaborations I was in...at least from my own observations.

That said, this bring me to the next stumbling block. How did I see this thing/action/project/collective that had/have?   Do I address my own views about the collaborations Ive been part of in the introductory chapter to my proposal/dissertation?  Or do I save it for my data collection section (self-interviews and journaling) as some research methods books suggest? Or, is there a good mid-point where I can address potential biases by discussing it a bit (but how much is enough?) and then saving the rest for the data collection portion?

When the researcher is part of the researched it makes things a little muddy.  Things that are 'clear' in my head aren't necessarily things that are transmitted as 'clear' to the eventual audience of my doctoral work. I think part of the problem is that my direct experience really colors my perceptions (as I expected it would), but also that the question "why did we do this?" is intentionally broad. Would it be helpful to narrow it down to a specific aspect of our work together? And, if yes, what specific aspect would be of most interest to this community I am researching (and am a member of)?  Loads of questions...


OK, that's all the reflecting for now.  What do others think?





Marginalia:
† Although, with the mindset of "the community is the curriculum", one could argue that such group work was part of the curriculum.  Cormier! you evil genius! 😈

Sunday, April 29, 2018

Burn those Business Schools (or...maybe don't!)

The other day Paul Prinsloo posted this Guardian article on Facebook, and it seems like a popular article because Shyam Sharma (among others in my online educational social network and PLN posted it). As usual my PLN got me thinking (and, as is evidenced by this blog post, creatively procrastinating and not really working on my dissertation proposal...D'oh! 😜).  This blog post started life as a comment back to Paul, but it got too long, so here it is - migrated to the blog!  I should say that two of my master's degrees are from a business school (B-School hereafter) and my views are framed from an emic and etic perspective (hey, why is my dissertation proposal leaking into my blog? get out! 😏)

From my own personal experience I think that B-Schools are in part complicit with what's going on, they are after part of the business landscape, but I think that they are only one part of the picture.  I am making my way through Ken Bruffee's book on Collaborative Learning, which frames a lot in terms of language, and by language I think a lot of what's encompassed isn't just how you write in specific disciplines but also (and I am not sure Bruffee articulated this) what assumptions, values, and ways of being are articulated by those disciplinary 'languages'.  Bruffee tells us that students enroll in specific programs so that they can gain access to those languages, and by extension gain access into the networks of people that utilize those discourses.

But what's the goal of the learner?  Well, it really depends on each student, but in my own (anecdotal) experience many people gravitated toward the MBA because they were driven by the promise big financial gains. Don't get me wrong. I like a good paycheck (I have bills too!), but if money is the only motivator (or the largest of the motivators if more than one exists), then there is something wrong, and short-sighted. While I do think that B-Schools have a moral obligation to improve society, they also need to teach their students about what's going out there in society. They wouldn't survive long as schools if they ignored that because students would just not come to them.

From my own class experiences, here is an example:  I was in an Introduction to Finance class for my MBA. This was just before the last crash that was brought on by bad housing loans. There were some students that were having the proverbial wet dream about these mortgage derivatives. While the professor did speak against these financial products from his own (extensive) experience in the field we didn't really discuss it a lot in the finance class, and we focused on our texts and what was on the syllabus  for that week.  This was a perfect opportunity to look at current day trends, critically analyze them, and speak for/against them.  Nope, it didn't happen.  I liked the class, respected the prof that voiced his expert opinion.  I think an off-the-cuff remark was something like derivatives are basically like going to Vegas and playing the roulette or something like that.  I see this as a lost opportunity, and lo-and-behold, a few semesters later came the crash. The crash was instigated by blind financiers (blind willfully or negligently) who were focused on just profits.

I agree with the criticism, in the article, of the curriculum (and what that curriculum signals), but the then I'd argue that you can't just 'fix' the curriculum of a B-School and call it a job well done.  Things operate in certain ways outside of the walls of academia. We need to be preparing students to change not just themselves but also those systemic inequalities in the way we conduct business, and how our laws operate in our country; anything and everything from cost of healthcare, cost of going to school, cost of housing, how those things operate, and who's pulling the strings.

We also need to look outside the B-school for solutions to change the legal aspects of how businesses run; this later part is broad because it includes things like taxation, healthcare, education, environmental health and safety, and  so on.  When you have people joining B-Schools because their goal is to make money (and they do that because that's what society signals as a core value, and everyone wants to be part of that 1%) then you aren't going to get a lot of takers to go to B-School that doesn't equip you to do that, at least one that overtly doesn't sell that brand of success.  I am not sure what's happening in the rest of the world, but the US seems very much into the myth of individual exceptionalism, hence this all about "me" and eff everyone else weltsanschauung, is what's implicitly marketed, both by schools and by politicians who want 'practical' degrees, does not really provide fertile ground for a healthy society.

I don't have a solution for this issue, but burning down the B-Schools is definitely not part of a solution that I would advocate for.  Maybe instead of having undergraduate B-Schools we should require people to study philosophy, sociology, art, and history (among other liberal arts) before they can gain access to B-School for graduate studies instead of having people go to B-School right from the undergraduate business degrees.   Maybe those graduate students would need to be connect their undergraduate studies to their business pursuits. Perhaps B-Schools could nurture connections with local, regional, and national organizations to help support the greater welfare of everyone, and not just focus on individual gain.  As another personal example, to finish off this post, while I did find international finance interesting, and the concept of arbitrage fascinating, it's a good idea to question who benefits from these systems, who has access to international markets and the capital necessary to make profits in arbitrage? And do these people who make money out of nothing help support the broader well being of a society? How about we introduce that critical aspect into the curriculum.

Sunday, April 22, 2018

Random draw from the comment-box!

I tried to come up with a witty title for this post, but I guess maybe it's didn't work out ;-).  Anyway...yesterday as I was working on my proposal I thought "hey...I haven't seen George Siemens blog recently..." which also made  me wonder when the last time I blogged was. Not as long as George (that's for sure ;-) ) but long enough.  So I thought I'd pull together some random streams that have been whirling around as disconnected strands.

First, one exciting thing that transpired between the last blog post and how is that not one, but two, members of Cohort 6 have completed their EdDs!  Both Lisa (@merryspaniel) and Viviane (@vvladi) successfully defended their work and are one step away from commencement and official conferral of the degree :-).  Lisa's Dissertation is already available at the institutional repository (click here) if you'd like to read it.  For Lisa and Viviane it's a major victory completing their doctoral work, but it's also a small victory for us in the sidelines plugging away on our own work.  It's another positive example that there is light at the end of the tunnel! :-) 

Another exciting thing that happened since the last blog is that one of our RhizoCollaborations earned an award...sort of.  The 2018 GO-GN (Global OER Graduate Network) gave one of our papers an Honorable Mention.
An Honorable Mention is given to Aras Bozkurt for ‘Community Tracking in a cMOOC and Nomadic Learner Behavior Identification on a Connectivist Rhizomatic Learning Network‘, co-authored with Sarah Honeychurch, Autumn Caines, Maha Bali, Apostolos Koutropoulos and Dave Cormier, and published in the Turkish Online Journal of Distance Education (TOJDE).
This was a total surprise because I didn't even know that we were in the running, so the fact that we were even nominated for this was something amazing. When Aras and other co-authors posted and retweeted on twitter I got a rush.  It reminded me of the rush I felt back in 2011 when our MobiMOOC Research Team earned a 'best paper' award at mLearning 2011, which was also unexpected.  I also feel that the recognition is actually amplified by the fact that this was a collaborative effort. While I would have been proud to have my work awarded even if I worked alone on the deliverable, I think the fact that there are other team members to share the glory with makes the nomination even more magnificent.  These individuals have, over the years, and through our collaborations, played a role in my own learning, and I hope that I've contributed to their own growth it in some way.

Finally, there's my own dissertation proposal in the works.  Still plugging away at it! I am behind where I thought I would be, but I am making progress.  I now have a co-supervisor as well.  My initial (main co-) supervisor will be retiring in 16 months, so just in case I am still plugging away at my dissertation by 2019 we're making some succession plans. Although I really, really, want to be done by July 2019 at the latest. As much as I enjoy being in school, I don't enjoy paying program fees ;-).

From the most recent round of comments, my Introductory chapter and Methods chapter needed some tweaking and/or adding to.   I spend during this last week or so working on the first chapter which has now been tweaked. This weekend I needed a breather before I moved on, so I started looking at the Research Ethics Board requirements.  I created an account at AU's REB site, and I started plugging away at the (multiple) tabs that required my project's information.  After a couple of days most tabs are complete.  The REB application isn't ready for submission though.  I'll hold off until my committee thinks that the proposal is defendable, and then I'll make sure that what I've plugged into the REB application matches any subsequent edits to the proposal.   There is still the issue of recruiting my 3rd committee member.

Alright... back to work I got!

Tuesday, March 27, 2018

Peer Reviewing snowballs!


There must be some cosmic signals that have gone off line the bat-signal indicating that I am 'free' because I am waiting for feedback from my dissertation committee.  How do I know this?  Well, the requests for me to peer review articles has increased!   Not wanting to disappoint, if the article is within my field of "expertise" (whatever that means... the more I learn, the more Socrates whispers at me "the more you know, you know that you know nothing" ;-) )

One thing I don't like doing is outwardly rejecting an article.  I don't just approve articles, but if an article has some merit (even if authors have to do a ton of work to rehab it), I reject but keep the door open for reconsideration.  I have outwardly rejected articles in the past, but I'd estimate that it's only 25% rejection (another 50% needs major revision, and 25% minor revisions).  Despite trying to be a caring reviewer, and honestly striving to give good feedback, there are articles I read that being out my inner Joe Bastianich (known partly for his look of disappointment and disdain on the television show "MasterChef").

Now, I try to not have these "ugh" feelings make it into my feedback, but I do wonder at times. Do others, who do peer review, just get an article and think "Jeez...why did the editor send me this piece of flaming ****?". Luckily I don't get this visceral reaction often, but I do wonder if my reactions are hyperbole, or if others get the same feeling from time to time.

Thoughts?



Saturday, March 17, 2018

Rationale? I don't need no stinkin' Rationale!†

 Alfonso Bedoya in The Treasure of the Sierra Madre
Dissertation proposal, draft number...I don't know - lost count - has been submitted.  Things look good, well at least in my humble view, so I hope I am ready to defend this proposal within the coming month and become a "candidate" soon‡. With the draft submitted I can now focus on the other pile of academic work that needs attending to, and is more collaborative than my dissertation.

In any case, a recent incident (incident sound too austere...happening? occurrence?) I was reminded, for the umpteenth time that what we, as educational researchers, are expected to have a purpose in our research. What is the rationale for the study? people ask. Why undertake this study?  Who benefits? What is the problem you are trying to solve?

As you can tell from the title of this blog post I hold the position that I don't need no stinkin' rationale.

I could make something up like "by examining population X, subgroup Y, we can infer that the results might be applicable to generation Z" (or something like that).  If pressed, I could be convincing in writing some rationale like that, but it wouldn't necessarily be the truth, hence, in my view, it should not be included in the published literature just to check off a requirement.  I firmly believe that if a researcher finds some occurrence interesting and wants to investigate this curiosity they should be able to do so (within the limits of ethical practice of course), without being weighed down by needing to produce a rationale for the study when they try to get it published.

This is by no means new to me.  I've been hearing various versions of this from established researchers for the past decade. My first exposure was when I was an MA student and we had a guest speaker in class who boldly proclaimed that if your research doesn't specifically address social injustices and under-represented populations your research is basically garbage♠. I basically wrote her off because she clearly didn't seem interested in a discussion about this topic (very odd for someone in that position of authority if you ask me).

In any case, while my other experiences with academics have definitely been less polemic compared to that initial experience, I am still surprised that academics basically act within a prescribed box.  I am not taking about the necessity for validity, reliability, and/or trustworthiness. Those are important in research. What I am talking about is purpose. At the end of the day, if I am satisfying my own personal curiosity as to why an event is happening, is that any less valuable than doing it for the benefit of others from the start?  It is certainly appears to be more altruistic, I'll grant you that, but does value diminish simply because you didn't work on something that was meaningful to others as well, at least at the time of research?

Thoughts?


Marginalia
† In writing this post I learned where "I don't need no stinking..." comes from! (see here). Who would have thought an academic rant would teach me some pop culture?
‡ You know, recently I've felt that doctoral students should have some cool video-game-esque ranks, maybe with some badges to go with them, but I guess that's a thought for another post 😜
♠ Well, OK. No, she didn't say this exactly in those words, but based on what she was touting about her research, and her research agenda, and how it was related to other people's work that was more theoretical in nature, or didn't deal with her populations, it was easy to connect the dots.

Monday, February 5, 2018

What am I training for again?

From PhD Comics

It's been a while since I've had the bandwidth to think about something other than my dissertation proposal.  When I started this process four years ago (starting with matriculation in March 2014) I thought I'd be the first or second person in my cohort to be done (ha!), but like most marathoners I guess I am part of the pack looking at the fast folks ahead of me 😏.  Being part of the pack does have its benefits, such as getting an idea of how long the process takes (having friends in other cohorts also helps with this).  I thought, initially, when someone submitted their draft (be it proposal or final dissertation) that you would get feedback and signs of life from your various committees soonish, but seeing Lisa's journey (currently at 5 weeks and counting) gave me a reality check. Waiting isn't bad per se (we wait for a ton of things in life), but I think it is the expectation of things to come that makes this type waiting much more anxious for us doctoral student. Questions pop in your mind such as: Will they like what we submitted?  How much editing do they need me to do? Will they ask me to go back to the drawing board? How long will that take?  And if I have to defend this thing next week...well, do I have time to prepare? Do I remember everything I read in my review to the literature? eeek!

That said, I think I should rewind a bit.  What have I been up to?  Well, lots, and lots, and lots of reading and then funneling that into some sort of literature review. The past 4 (or 5?) weekends have been about process (and grit?); they have been about sitting down for hours and crafting what I learned into a coherent literature review. They have been about concentration (and probably some weight gain due to all the sitting...maybe some bad posture as well).  And, at last, this past weekend I finished the 139 page monster, put it all into one word file and emailed by advisor (hopefully she won't hate me because of the length 😜 ).  Without counting references, front-matter, and tables of contents, here is what the word count breaks down to:
  • Chapter 1: Introduction  ≅ 3,800 words
  • Chapter 2: Literature Review  ≅ 16,600 words
  • Chapter 3: Methods ≅ 6,700 words
Assuming that the average academic article is around 8,000 words (with references), I've written 4.5 academic articles, and this isn't even the full dissertation!

Now that the draft is submitted I have some free time (maybe 3-4 weeks if other cohort-mates reports are any indication of average length of waiting) to work on a research project that's been on the back burner and that's collaborative. In this project, in order to make it  to the appropriate word length the operative word is cut. This is a little challenging because when it comes to cutting there aren't really that many options.  Do you cut your methods?  Then reviewers will call you out on incompleteness of methods (and you might actually get penalized for it!).  Do you cut your findings?  Well, for a qualitative research paper without some qualitative data (which takes up space) you could be told that there isn't enough data (or they could say that you are making things up).  Do you cut the literature review?  Well, this seems like the most likely place to make cuts, but how is your reading audience assured that you did your due diligence? Hmmmm... dilemma...dilemma...dilemma.

This pondering lead me down another path: a recent (recentish?) tweet by Maha Bali, a critique of doctoral programs.  The gist of it was that PhD programs don't really prepare you for a lot of things that are expected in academia. The traditional pillars of faculty in academia are research publishing (usually of the academic article variety), service, and teaching; however the critique was that doctoral programs don't really prepare you for these things. I think this is is a much larger discussion which first needs analysis of what faculty actually do and what they are asked to do. Maybe this is an opportunity to examine what faculty do and their relation to other roles at the institution, but for now I want to focus on one part of it: the research and publishing.

I consider myself lucky to have had opportunities to research and publish prior to pursuing my EdD, and to do this both alone and in collaboration with others (as an aside, I find collaboration more satisfying as it satisfied both work and social aspects of life). Working on the doctoral degree affords me the opportunity for some directed study to fill in potential areas that I was missing, and to see things from different frames of view; for instance I have a finer understanding of learning in other fields such as military and health-care (just to pick on a couple) because of my cohort-mates.

However the dissertation process, and the reason for this process, seems quite arcane to me. I understand, from a cognitive perspective, that the dissertation is meant to showcase your skills as a researcher; and those with more romantic dispositions among us might also say that it contributes to the overall level of knowledge in our field. But if you are one of those romantics let me ask you this: when was the last time you cited a dissertation in your research?  And, just in case you are a smarty-pants and you have cited one dissertation, how often do you check out dissertation abstracts for your literature reviews? I digress though... Back on point...

It seems to me that as an academic (well, if I chose to go the tenure track once I earn my EdD) I need to contribute to the field by writing research articles, field notes, book chapters, reports, and maybe even a whole book; and I also need to provide peer reviews to fellow authors.  With the exception of book writing (which every academic does not do), the vast majority of writing is between 3,000 and 9,000 words.  A dissertation  is considerably longer. This makes me wonder (again) whether the purpose of the dissertation is one of endurance (i.e. if you can do this, you can do anything!) or of holding us up to romantic, inappropriate, or irrational standards, as in "once you graduate you are expected to write books". As an aside, this may have been the case when there were fewer scholars around, but these days there aren't enough positions open in the traditional tenure-track faculty profession, so the Alt-Ac isn't even addressed or acknowledged...but again, I digress.

The instructional designer in me has pondered the purpose of the dissertation (even before I applied to doctoral programs). If we've already replaced the once prevalent Masters Thesis with other means of assessment (or at least made the MA Thesis as one of a few options), why can't we do the same with the Doctoral Dissertation, which - if we're honest - just another form of assessment.  I should say that my own point of reference here are what are called 'taught' PhDs where there is required coursework before you are allowed to be a doctoral candidate, and not the kind you might find in Europe where you are apprenticed into the discipline by applying as an apprentice (basically) and just work on your dissertation upon completed of a masters program.

So my three questions out there for you:

  1. Do the traditional pillars of academia still hold up or should be re-conceptualized? What might they be? and how do they work collaboratively with other parts of the academy?
  2. Based on these current pillars where does doctoral education fall short (name your field as fields will most likely vary)
  3. Keeping the dissertation in mind: what would you replace it with? What are the underlying assumptions for your model?


Discussion welcomed (if you blog, feel free to post link)









Thursday, January 4, 2018

2017 year in review - school edition

From wikipedia: 1779 illustration of a Catholic
Armenian monk of the
Order of St Gregory the Illuminator,  
Happy New Year! Yeah... it's the fourth of January, but I figure I can get away with it since we're still in the first week of 2018, and this is my first post for the year 😉

Things have been a little quiet here on the blog as of late. Not a lot of MOOCing, not a lot of virtual connecting, not a lot of collaborative or cooperative learning as was the case in previous years.  There has been a lot of reading, mostly in monastic form - you know, lock yourself in a room and read until your inner teenager starts screaming at you "are we done yeeeeeet????" - I guess I am really in the thick of dissertation prep "stuff" (reading and sorting mostly) which I hope I'll get through in 2018 (for the most part anyway)

I thought I would take a break from the monastic lifestyle to put together a few things that really struck me in 2017, at least as far as my own learning, and learning journey, go.

I guess the first thing of interest is that  2017 was my last year of courses. In spring 2017 (winter 2017 in Canadian terms) I completed EDDE 806 which was the last structured and graded seminar for my EdD.  Coming into the seminar I really wanted to get done with classes, so even though I had until Fall 2017 to complete the requirements for the seminar, I made sure I was there each session and doing what was required to be done. 2017 didn't start off energetically though...

I think the major realization I came to in 2017 was that I had over-exerted myself in 2016, and as a consequence I really felt burned out; not starting to feel burned out, but actually burned out. I felt a little guilty because I still wanted to participate in extracurricular academic stuff such as virtually connecting, MOOCs, and working more on research papers with friends and colleagues as these activities encompassed both an academic purpose but also a social purpose. However, in the quest to get moving with the dissertation proposal I needed to sacrifice most of the more fun things in academic life and work on the more utilitarian parts to just get done. The hope is that people will still be there once I am done 😜

Even though I had bits and pieces of my proposal already forming in 2016, I put all of those mostly in the back burner for the spring semester because I wanted to finish off the requirements for the final graded seminar of my studies (EDDE 806). I think what I learned here is that I am mostly a sequential person when it comes to doing stuff. Many people think I can multitask like a madman, but I guess it's all relative from where you are standing.  I think I can do two or three ongoing projects at a time (of varying cognitive intensity), but class + proposal weren't working out for me.

So, once EDDE 806 was done, I took a mental breather, and a month later I begun working on my proposal again.  The introductory chapter (chapter 1) and the methods chapter (chapter 3) seemed to be on a better path, so I focused on that.  I think the core  of what my proposal is was pretty well done in August when I completed writing chapters 1 and 3. The who, what, where, and how were pretty much answered.  The big question still looming was  the "why".  It was hinted at during the introduction, but it needed more exposition, via a literature review chapter. So, September to December I read...I read a lot...and then I read some more (all the while taking notes)...until my inner knowledge glutton decided it was enough. That was after around 500 PDFs which breaks down to about 20 books/conference proceeding compilations and the around 480s articles (overkill?).

This past month I've been going back through the readings and I realized a few things: First is that I had downloaded some articles twice or thrice (since I had been collecting articles on MOOCs since 2014 in anticipation of this moment), but there weren't that many duplicates (less than 10% of the total, definitely).  In reading the same article a few times, over a period of a few months, different things jumped out at time; some things were the same, but my increased knowledge from readings was definitely coloring how I interacted with the texts.

The second part that jumped out at me is that no matter how detailed my lit-review search is, there is still stuff that will be missing from journal database searches. By looking at the references of the articles I read I saw that there were things that could be of interest (maybe), but they were in specific disciplinary journals that didn't deal with education (travel, medicine, geology, etc.), or that were in proceedings of conferences from various professional associations that my library doesn't have the most current access to, or even things that were in a different language.  I could decipher things in French, Spanish mostly without a problem, and some Portuguese, but reading academic discourses in languages that you are not used to reading academic discourses is definitely slower and more taxing. This is not a revelation - I know this from a theoretical perspective as a linguist, but this is one of the few times I felt it personally. Even so, there is probably good stuff out there in languages that are not accessible to me, and things that are not even on my radar, so 100% completion on a specific topic is a fool's errand.

The third thing, that really surprised me, was how much misinformation there was about the history of MOOCs.  In the grand scheme of things it was a small amount of articles, and it was limited to the introductory sections of articles where they were introducing the topic, but having such erroneous info printed in academic journals was a bit jarring. An example: complete lack of discussion around cMOOCs, and xMOOCs being described as evolving from OER. Now, while a nuanced discussion on the topic could reveal that certain xMOOC providers do have dotted lines in their histories to OER, I don't think this is a broad generalization that can be made, and in an introductory section to a journal article it seems quite misleading, especially to someone who might know nothing of MOOCs.  This got me thinking about literature reviews in general, and how little work goes into them sometimes; the write something, cite something, to get it done approach, rather than really thinking about it.  I know that I may have gone overboard here with mine, but I think that the minimalist approach also can be troublesome because it can (and sometimes does) devolve into a find the reference that supports you POV.

This leads me to AK's Theorem of the Funnel of Usage for the literature review (you read it here, so you better cite me! 😝). Basically what my theorem says is that for a literature review you may read hundreds or thousands of pages of stuff, you may comment or find useful things that amount to several hundred pages, bu ultimately only a small amount of what you comments on and find useful will make it your your literature review.  I am looking at a lit-review of 40 pages (double spaced) maximum. Assuming 15 pages per article on average (or around 300 per conference proceeding and book), I'd estimate 13,000 single-spaced pages read.  I have around 200 pages of excerpts and notes, which will go down to 20 pages. All that reading doesn't go to waste, it informs my views and stances (and also impacted some questions I'd like to ask in my interviews, in the methods section), but there is definitely a funneling effect here.

Speaking of overkill, perhaps I didn't have to read as much as I did (we'll never know). I think the fear is that my exam committee will decide to ask me about an article that I actually have NOT read that they think is important and then I'll be standing there like an idiot (and possibly fail 😖).  There is a Greek expression that has stuck with me πιασμένος αδιάβαστος which basically translates to "caught unread" (unprepared). It goes back to the days where children read at home, and they went to school to be quizzed on what they had read. You get caught unprepared, it's a bit of a mark of shame. I sort of felt like this when I was preparing for the comprehensive exams for my MA in applied linguistics and I passed that with flying colors, so I guess I shouldn't be as worried about these things...but I guess students reap what teachers have sowed...even if it was more than 25 years ago...

Another thing that really piqued my interest was thinking about how many web 2.0 technologies have died between now and 2008.  In reading articles about the original CCK, and MOOCs or other collaborations that have happened since I see quite a few technologies that closed down (either recently or some while back).  This makes me ponder a bit about what can be done about digitally preserving some of the artifacts created, or ways in which things worked, or something else.  While describing activities with PageFlakes (for example) is interesting, what happens 20 years down the road when no one knows how PageFlakes worked?

Finally, I realized that this entire process took about five times (or more) the length of time I expected it to take (there are quite a few "LOL :-)" next to self-imposed deadlines I've missed), and in academic articles I've read I noticed that others have also forgotten to include something in the reference list that they referenced in the body of the text, so it makes me not feel as bad when I've done my due diligence but still something goes missing or is erroneously ommited.

I kind of feel like the quote from Francois Truffaut is applicable: "You start a film and you want to make the greatest one ever made. Halfway through, you just want to finish the damned thing." - just substitute film with dissertation :)

Anyway, back to the monastic lifestyle to get some more things done.  How was 2017 for you, academically speaking?
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PS Hey! Committee members! I don't know who you are yet, but if you googled me and came across this post, go easy on me 😜