Getting in and out of habits . . .

Photo by Drew Beamer on Unsplash

It’s almost 2 years since we all went in to lock down. What a strange couple of years it has been. Although there have been significant markers of time, like the dates when we could see people outside, when we could go into family and friends house, when we couldn’t again, when we got vaccinated, when we (for some) had to isolate, I find the last 2 years a bit of a blur. And now, despite all the cries for getting “back to normal” it seems our world has just ratcheted up the crazy again.

Over these past two years we’ve all had to change our habits. We’ve had to get in to the new (for some) working from home habit, the not going out habit, the going for a daily walk habit, the keeping a safe physical distance from others habit, the washing our hands habit, the wearing face masks habit. These habits were of course strengthened by legal requirements. As these legal requirements are coming to an end, I suspect many of these habits will too. Never mind the vulnerable, never mind that covid infection rates are really high right now, we can just go back “to normal” and forget about those pesky, enforced habits.

Despite living through two years of a global pandemic, it seems that “society” hasn’t really learned from the experience. Our understanding about infection transmission doesn’t seem to have improved. This is despite us all being quite obsessed with COVID transmission data and mortality rates, and being bombarded with them across all media outlets.

The habits of washing hands regularly, keeping surfaces and public spaces clean, wearing a mask in enclosed spaces all seem to be diminishing now too. Never mind that they are really effective ways of stopping the transmission of COVID-19 but lots of other viruses too.

I’ve been thinking about my own habits too. During the first lock down, I made a very conscious effort to keep writing regular updates in this blog. I think this was partly to give me a focus, but it was also a determined effort to keep my professional profile active as part of trying to ensure that I had enough work to survive. I also had the freedom to write about issues that some colleagues in university didn’t.

I’ve always seen blogging as a habit, but I have noticed that this year I have been seriously getting out of that habit. It’s not that I don’t have anything to say, I am just quite often at a loss about what exactly to say. It’s often difficult for me to write openly about work I am doing as it can be confidential and/or not really suitable for a blog post. I find I have less of the “I need to have a bit of a rant about this” moments which inevitably used to end up as blog posts. There are also so many “big” things happening in the world, that I often feel very small and insignificant, so writing anything seems slightly pointless.

Just now I wonder more and more about teaching and learning habits, and in turn managerial, and strategic planning habits. So many things changed over the past two years, what habits do we need to keep? Can we ever get out of the habit of endless meetings? Can we develop effective habits of flexible, accessible learning and working conditions? Will we change any of the “habits” of the curriculum? Will the habit of presenteeism win back its stranglehold? Will strategic thinking about HE have collective amnesia about the experiences of lock down?

Anyway this is more of a ramble than a coherent post (ah yes, dear reader, some habits will never change). But I’d be really interested to hear your views on your habits – what ones are you sticking with? Now we can go places again do you still go for your daily walk – or is there no time for that now? And in terms of your working practices what habits have changed?

3 good things for a Friday

Well dear reader, it’s been a while. I have been trying to write, I have a number of half finished posts that I just haven’t quite got round to finishing. With everything that is going on in right now, I just don’t have the words and energy to try and figure out what I really want to say. However, if I don’t hit that “publish” button soon, I fear I never will again. So, today I’m going to quickly share 3 good things I found out about this week.

1. I found out you can now embed ThingLink directly into Powerpoint. How good is that? I love a good ThingLink, and this add on just opens up so many presentation possibilities. Also thinking of students and student projects/presentations, it’s a great combination too for enhanced digital storytelling.

2. The findings of the ALT annual member survey are now available. I always think the annual ALT member survey give the real story of what is happening with learning technology across the sector. Big trends this year are the importance of student engagement for driving the use of learning technology, and the importance of other collaborative tools -it’s not all about Zoom and MS Teams. Worth an look.

3. Bryan Mathers has added another element to the remix machine – the remix o’meter! How many uses could there be for this meter? There’s already quite a few remixes available. Here’s mine.

So if you are looking for distraction this Friday, try any one of these 3 suggestions and hopefully they will distract you, and might actually be useful too.

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Are you feeling more normal now?

I saw this question being asked by a teddy bear in a window as I was out for a walk yesterday. I found it quite an arresting image, it made me stop and take a picture, and it also made me think am I feeling more normal now? My answer, well to be honest I’m not really sure.

I can’t remember if has ever been “normal” to put a teddy bear in your window asking deceptively simple questions. Since the first lock down, putting signs of support on windows has become normal. Starting with rainbows to support the NHS, and then various other campaigns such as Black Lives Matter. There was a reassuring and visible sense of community and collective hope and struggle in the variety, scale and at times imagination in these images. Particularly when we couldn’t mix with each other, and our “out door activity” was pretty much limited to walking in our local neighbourhoods. As lockdown measure have eased, these signs have become less commonplace. I kind of forgot about mine and eventually took them down.

But this in the window, the “cute” teddy, the apparently comforting but actually quite disturbing (for me anyway) question. This was a different experience from the lifting of spirits that a run of NHS rainbow windows gave me. So, of course I thought I’d share on social media to see what others thought. I got a quite a few likes on FB and just one comment /question “what is normal?”, LinkedIn similar, with someone telling me that they would feel normal when they got to Jamaica next week (I’m presuming for a holiday). Thank goodness for twitter – and thanks to everyone who responded. Elaine’s response resonated with my feelings

Do we really understand what is “normal” now? Sui-Ming added to this with some really salient points about the realities that we face and the lack of meaningful contextual discourse around “normal”.

Despite political drives to “get back to normal”, COVID has not gone away. Tens of thousands of people are contracting it every week, and at least for the time being here in the UK, having to isolate. This makes “normal” teaching even more challenging, as Sui-Ming so succinctly highlighted. Consistency of experience for staff and students is constantly changing. The nuances of hybrid teaching are just starting to be understood. How to “normalise” it, imho is a huge challenge.
Aileen also shared something that resonated

I don’t know about you, dear reader, but I still feel quite on edge at times, not wanting to plan to much just incase another strain arrives and we go back to more limited/lock down measures. Mind you, in the current UK political context, any kind of restrictions are pretty much doomed to fail since it came to light that the UK PM was ignoring all of them all along.

I do think there needs to be a wider discussion that takes us beyond the “back to normal” rhetoric. We are now in a new phase of, well I’m not sure what, but of something that means we can’t go back to the perceived normality of life pre March 2019. Remember that version of normal wasn’t particularly inclusive so we really don’t want to go back there. We’ve all lived, worked, learned, taught from home (generally pretty successful) now. For many support staff in universities working from home was almost unthinkable 2 years ago. Do we want those “normal” attitudes surrounding presenteeism to take hold again? But maybe it’s already too late for that one . . . Similarly with learning and teaching, do we really need to go back to perceived normal of large lectures? Can’t we really take the opportunity to make some fundamental and necessary changes to our curricula that reflect the lived experiences of the past 2 years, are inclusive and accessible.

I wrote recently about recovery and the need for it in education. I think we are all going through a period of convalescence, but not admitting that we need to allow a period of recovery for ourselves, our organisations, our society to rebuild. We don’t actually have to go back to, for example exams, it actually doesn’t matter if you get to 17 and haven’t sat a “proper exam”. There are alternatives, that work just as well that involve far less stress.


So maybe the answer to the question am I feeling more normal now? is no, and I don’t want to. What do you think, would love to hear your thoughts in the comments.

Do we need a period of convalescence in education?

I’ve been easing myself back into work mode this week. I’ve been “hangin’ around” twitter a bit more, trying to do a bit more formal and informal academic reading, trying getting my brain switched back into writing mode, having more meetings, speaking to people and generally doing “stuff” after work free festive break. I’ve also been trying not contain my rage about the current revelations around the UK govt actions during the first lockdown. I don’t know about you, dear reader, but I have been laughing a lot about #partygate, because if I let my thoughts and emotions go the other way my head might just explode with rage; or I would never stop crying thinking about the now over 175,000 people in the UK who died from COVID-19.

We have all been through so much in the past nearly 2 years now. Yet still our future seems to be firmly rooted in the past. Getting “back to normal” still seems to be the ultimate aim. Back to campus, back to exams, back to not having to consider how our actions could impact others health. In our rush to economic recovery (for ultimately that’s all our political leaders really care about) are missing out a vital step around human recovery and the need for a period of convalescence?

Just before Christmas I heard the poet (and COVID-19 survivor) Michael Rosen recommend book called Recovery, The Lost Art of Convalescense, by Dr Gavin Francis. Michael was in a COVID induced coma for many months, so the topic was particularly relevant to him. I was intrigued by his description of the the book so I bought it. It’s quite a slim volume and documents the experiences of one doctor (based with a western/global north medical tradition). The author describes it as “a series of explorations of recovery and convalescence.”

In the first chapter, the author shares his own childhood experiences of convalescence and recovery. He talks about the rehabilitation he went through after a serious knee injury, and the rehabilitation he went through. I was drawn to his description of rehabilitation

the word rehabilitation comes from the the Latin habilis, ‘to make fit’, and carries the sense of restoration: ‘to stand, make, or be firm again.”

I think there is an an analogy here with what is happeing in education just now. There doesn’t seem to be space for any kind of rehabilitation after the roller coaster of covid infections isolations, lockdowns, continuted restrictions. It’s all full steam ahead for “back to normal”. I can’t help but think that this is a mistake. Staff and students need time to recover. Despite the urban myth that moving online wasn’t a real or proper education experience, and seen as an easy option, it was bloody hard work for thousands of staff. There has been a bit more focus on “well being” but that’s not really addressing some of the key issues. Is it too far beyond our imagination to acknowledge that we need to have some space for recovery to heal and regain strenght and perhaps a different perspective on how we actually do things. Gavin says in the book “the flow of my life had been stilled, but it was that stillness that allowed me to heal.

Now, I’m not suggesting that everything stops, but I do think that it is possible to make some space for critical reflection on what has happened and what needs to be done next. Could we revisit notions of the sabbatical in terms of recovery to allow staff some dedicated time reflect, to engage with different pedagogical approaches, with (re)design, to have more opportunity to improve public engagement around online learning and teaching and assessment and maybe start to have an informed discussion about the apparent need for final summative exams? There could be cross disciplinary/institutional opportunities for sharing of ideas, practice whilst on sabbaticals which could then feed back into institutional developments. Every member of staff (academic and support) should be offered the opportunity too.

I’m still really thinking all of this through, however I do think there could be something about revisiting our notions of recovery and convalescence that could help us do more than just “get back to normal’ and actually allow us time to heal and so that our education systems, and more importantly the people who work in them can be restored, be fit, and firm again. Would love to hear your thoughts.

Another up, down, open, closed, roundabout year

Dear Reader, I have to confess as we edge closer to the end of 2021 my relatively regular habit of blogging has lapsed. It’s been over a month since I last posted something here. Looking back over the year, I think my posts have been less frequent this year too. In 2020, and during the first lockdown I was pretty good at almost getting out posts weekly. Partly that was down to me wanting to share, to connect and I guess to ensure that I was doing all I could to maintain my online presence, and ensure that I was still getting work.

This year has been a bit different. It’s not that I don’t want to share , connect, to maintain my online presence. It’s more that some of the work I have been involved in hasn’t lent itself to sharing. That’s one of the sides to being a freelancer. So, although I still classify myself as an open educator, quite a bit of my work this year has been closed. That’s not to say I haven’t tried to support/instill/cunningly suggest open educational practices – it’s just that I can’t really talk about them at the time, or in some cases anytime.

My social media interactions continue to evolve. I am on Twitter less often. I feel the benefit of that. If I miss something, it’s fine. I’ve probably missed a lot this year. That said, it is still my “go to place” for connecting with my PLN, and I still find serendipitous connections and really useful stuff there. However, I have noticed that the tweets that I get most “engagement” from are the more shall we say, light-hearted, ones. That’s fine, I really enjoyed the international discussion about the best solutions to midgey bites in the summer! Some pretty heavy weight edtech people got very engaged with that. And of course, maybe my more “professional” tweets are a bit boring. To be fair, they probably are.

I think tho’, it might indicate something else. I know I look to Twitter for distraction and if I’m lucky inspiration. As we’re pretty much all still mainly working from home, I think Twitter this year has been more than ever that water cooler place. Somewhere you can escape the relentlessness of trying to get “back to normal” for a bit and reply to a random tweet about insect bites.

In contrast I have really noticed a change in my engagement with LinkedIn this year. Time for another confession, dear reader. To be honest, I always had a bit of a cavalier attitude to LinkedIn. I joined mainly because “everyone else was doing it”. I connected with people that I knew, but was never quite sure how to “use” it. The ability to share blog posts on my profile direct from WordPress was about as active as I ever got. As I moved to being a freelancer, that has changed. It is a professional space, and I have got work through people who have found me on it. But I have noticed over the last year in particular the LinkedIn App has got much better in terms of UI – I still find the web version quite frustrating.

I have noticed that I am getting (according to the stats it now shows me) a lot more engagement and views of my blog posts than I get on my actual blog site. So I have started to respond a bit more, and share more “stuff” there – yes those analytics have got me again! Maybe that’s the way it should be, and I’m glad that I can see the value of it now. But I have been struck by number of views on certain posts. Of course, I don’t know who accurate they are, and I haven’t tried to dig around to find out more. I wonder if you have noticed the same? Do we want to have “serious” conversations in “serious, professional” online channels? Ones that don’t involve midgey bites?

Also as my art practice grows, I am engaging with different networks in other channels such as Slack, and Instagram. I know that I am less engaged in some edtech/education communities than previously. The social media online presence for that is completely different and takes up time in a very different way. Open practice is different in that context too.

Professionally this has been a much better year than I expected. So thank you to everyone who has employed me. It’s been a joy to have been able work with former colleagues and friends like Helen Beetham, Phil Barker and Jean Mutton. It’s also been great to work with such a range of clients from UNESCO to UK universities to the IUA to smaller design companies. I’ve had some really fantastic opportunities this year and hopefully that will continue into 2022.

I will continue to share “stuff” here, but I am realising that my blogging is now evolving from my “professional memory”- before I became freelance, if anything important (to me) happened, I wrote a blog post about it – to something else. I’ll still share important to me “stuff’ but not everything that I am doing. It is an evolving practice to slightly misquote the very wise and wonderful Catherine Cronin’s description of open educational practice. Just what it is evolving into, I am still figuring out.

Thank you, dear reader, for your continued support over the year. I hope you and yours have a very Merry Christmas and a good, healthy and safe New Year and let’s see where 2022 brings us. I am making no predictions about that. I’ll end with some pointless distractions – some of the best bits from one of my favourite Christmas movies. Enjoy!

#WalkCreate: a different view of a research project

I try to keep both sides of my professional practice separate, but there are inevitable intersection points. This is post is one of those. As you know, dear reader, during lock down last year, walking became a really important part of daily life. Partly because it was the only thing you could do, particularly in the first lock down. Making time to get away from the screen and get outside became increasingly important to well being too.

Walking has always been a part of my daily routine. I’ve always tried to walk to as many places as possible and not use a car or public transport. But it did take on even more significance during lock down, and my daily walks along the Forth and Clyde Canal where I live inspired an unexpected and enriching source of inspiration for my artistic practice. I created a couple of digital stories about it last year – another intersection point

Walking Publics/Walking Arts  is  a  research project  funded by the Arts and Humanities Research Council  exploring the potential of the arts to sustain, encourage and more equitably support walking during and recovering from a pandemic at Glasgow University. Part of the research is “to understand how artists from across the UK have used walking as part of their artistic practice, adapting existing work or using walking as a resource for the first time during COVID-19. What can we learn from artists and how can their expertise be shared to support more people, and more diverse people, to enjoy walking?

I participated in a short survey for artists and I’m delighted that the project has created an online gallery showcasing the varied responses the project has received. It’s been refreshing to be involved in the “other side” of research, and there a few more things that the team have been in touch with me about too which is quite exciting too – great to be asked about a different type of citation!

It’s a really fascinating project and well worth checking out the online gallery and the rest of the project website too. Walking is so important for well being that we need to continue to explore its impact, and also not allow ourselves to get out of the habit of walking as we transition from lock down to whatever this “new normal/flexible working” scenario is.

Quality, nudges and the need for IRL experiences

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

Warning, this post might not make much sense – no change there I hear you mutter, dear reader. Anyway there is something that has been niggling at the back of my mind for quite a while. It’s edging closer to the front, but I can’t quite articulate it yet. But I think I’m getting closer.

Like many, I have been equally dismayed/saddened/shouting at the radio/paper/tv irately, at at some of the wider narratives around universities during lockdown and now in this not quite post pandemic, not quite “new normal” phase we are in just now.

Last week Simon Horrocks posed this valid question in response to a tweet from an MP questioning why all universities weren’t providing “quality education”

There seems to be a very common misconception that “quality education ” equates with face to face teaching, large lectures and of course end of year exams. Of course this isn’t always the case.

I have had huge sympathy with students over the past 18 months. They have had to cope with so much. There is no doubt that their educational and wider life experience has been disrupted. I also have huge sympathy with lecturers, researchers and all university support staff for much the same reasons.

There is no doubt that everyone wants to get back on campus. That is now happening to some extent in most unis. In the work I have been involved in over the summer with staff and students in the UK and Ireland, there has been a clear desire to be together again. We have all missed each other. It’s also been clear that the actual teaching and learning experience over the past 18 months, has actually been ok. It’s not been perfect – but then again was it ever? The main issues for students have been around the wider student experience, the impacts of lockdown on wider society, digital poverty and mental health issues. It was hard not having anywhere to go and not being able to meet and mix with people.

On the other hand having recorded lectures and open book exams appear to have been overwhelming popular with students providing greater flexibility and accessibility, and in many cases a reduction of stress. However, students have undoubtedly missed the collective experience of being at uni IRL. They’ve missed the spaces that campuses provide for formal and informal learning. They’ve missed the reassurance of being, as one student said to me, “confused together”, informal sharing and working things out and just being together.

Staff have missed students too. They’ve missed that human connection, they missed not being able to see their students, they’ve missed not being able to “feel”the atmosphere, understanding and confusion in online teaching spaces. They want to be with their students and colleagues again IRL.

And this is where my niggle starts niggling. As well as the overwhelming political and societal pressures to get “back to normal” and that have a quite outdated vision of smiling students in huge lecture theatres, there is now even louder pressure from the ed tech sector around data, datafication and increased personalisation of learning. The personalised experience seems to have greater urgency and weight as, of course, only through “data insights” can online learning provide the personalised experience that will improve . . . well everything and save the world, blah, blah – you know the marketing speak.

The recent merger/acquisition of Blackboard is a case in point. Ben Williamson has written an excellent post on the wider data, and ethical implications of this and the power of “nudging”. Is “nudging” going to be accepted as valid pedagogical approach? Or doesn’t that matter if it provides desired “achievement” levels? And will those levels automagically equate with a “quality” learning experience?

Anyway my niggle isn’t well formed enough to answer that. But it does seem to me that there is a growing contradiction between the drive for technology being focused on personalised learning when what we all (staff and students) want and actually need, are safe, meaningful, collective in person and online learning experiences. Ideally combined with more flexible, authentic assessments that are designed to ensure knowledge and understanding are at the fore, and so don’t need invasive surveillance.

We do need to have more nuanced conversations around quality in education (not just HE), but to do that we also need ensure that there is far greater understanding in wider society about just what a contemporary university learning experience is, and can be. It doesn’t need to be about “solutions” based on data, nudges and “personalisation”. It can must be one that understands and values the power of collective learning, of communities of practice, of trust and care, and developing learners who question and critique and don’t respond to homogenised nudges in the way that algorithms expect.

Finding joy in ethics and criticality: reflections on #altc21

I have to admit I at the start of the conference, I felt pretty jaded. It’s been a long year. I haven’t had a proper break – that’s my own fault – not blaming anyone but me for that. And like everyone else I’ve had, and continue to have, my fair share of challenges this year. Another online conference wasn’t exactly filling me with eager anticipation.

There’s always something of the start of the new term feel about the ALT annual conferences, which is one of its strengths. That is also historically why it’s been a challenge for some people to attend the physical conferences. One positive thing about the move to is a lot more flexible, and accessible for many. Anyway, like I said, I wasn’t really feeling any excitement for anything at the start of the week – online or in the “real” world! I knew I would be dipping in and out of the conference due to work commitments, but as is so often the way with ALT conferences, it and more importantly the ALT community, slowly drew me in.

The keynotes were, as ever, very strong this year. Sonia Livingston’s “the datafication of education: in whose interests?”, focused on her research with in schools around the use and understanding of data (particularly children’s understanding of data and how it is used). The give and take of data in schools (and throughout education) is quite unbalanced. The ‘system’ takes data, often without any really questioning from students or wider society. Schools/colleges/universities, are generally trusted entities, with a (at least here in the UK ) a legal duty of care for their students. However, as more 3rd party systems are integrated in education, and more data is being given to companies, the balance is changing. They take the data and offer it back in ways that they choose. Sonia highlighted that adults often give children a false sense of trust about managing data, without highlighting that once a company has your data, despite GDPR, there is a lot it can do with it without you realising. Just what is Google/Zoom/Microsoft etc actually doing with all the extra data they have collected over lockdown for example? The need for data literacy for us all, not just kids, is increasingly important.

Data literacy was central to Mutale Nkonde’s keynote, based on her 2019 paper “Advancing racial literacy in tech” , Mutale expertly took us through the bias of AI and algorithms, highlighting in particular the racial basis in social platforms (Tiktok was cited here) with their implementation of data proxies for popularity, that clearly have historical racial bias “baked in”. Mutale encouraged us all to question and have more conversations about data, AI, algorithms. To participate in projects such a AI for the people which aims to develop and support the ethical use of data. Mutale also reminded us that algorithms are IP and so have commercial confidentiality on their side. Companies do not need to share the algorithms they use. I for one think that should be challenged more, particularly in education. If we use a AI or any 3rd party company and it is harvesting data, then part of the contract should be full disclosure around how that data is being used, so that there can be informed discussions around what patterns, historical trends, etc algorithms are being built on.

Starting these conversations can be tricky. That’s where the (launched at the conference) ALT Framework for Ethical Learning Technology might come into play too. During its launch John Traxler asked if we need to decolonise educational technology. This sparked off a bit of a debate on the ALT mailing list, so I think the answer is a clear yes! Adapting the statements in the framework to questions would be a good starting point, imho around conversations about the ethics of technology, the ethical use of data, what that actually means in context.

The highlight of the conference for me was the final keynote from Lou Mycroft. Lou is one of the founders of #JoyFE. This really did bring back my #joy. I loved Lou’s explanation of: joy as an intentional practice, of the power of being affirmingly critical, but not cynical, of quiet resistance, of the joyful militancy of embracing “the power of giving away power”. I loved the wave Lou weaved ideas around leadership, around transformation being a start not an end point, of turning values into questions. For example what would assessment look like as a practice of hope? What would timetabling look like as a practice of care? I would encourage you, dear reader to watch all the keynotes, as well as the other sessions.

For me the ALT-C conferences have always been places and spaces of joy, for sharing of ideas, for getting re-energised, and also for getting confidence from the community to continue (or start) some bits of quiet resistance. Lou proposed leadership as being more about co-ordination, not control. On reflection, I think that is strength of ALT too, it can, and does provide co-ordination for the community. The range of special interest/member groups are a living example of that.

The conference also saw the launch of the ALT/ITN co production “The Future of Learning “. Lots of “shiny” tech stuff there and worth a watch not to see the future, but to see what is happening now. Not a lot of critique of technology/AI/ data so I wonder if there were to be another episode if a theme of the ethical use of technology would be apt? That would give a space for the new framework and the work of the ALT community in this area to be highlighted. It could help raise wider awareness of the need to question how, where, why, when and with/by whom data is collected and shared. That might provide a way to show some joyful resistance and coordinated leadership can allow for more equitable, ethical, caring and joyful future for learning.

Many thanks to the conference co-chairs, the conference committee, the ALT team, and everyone who participated in the conference.

ALTC delegate open badge image

“Ta da” not “to do” . . .

Warning: reading this post might cause involuntary jazz hands . ..

To take me out of my despair and anger about what is happening in the world this week (yes Texas, the US Supreme Court , Afghanistan, the omnishambles that is the UK government I mean you). I thought I’d try and focus on something that I can control and share.

In fact I’m passing this on from my good friend and former colleague Jim Emery. Jim has recently retired, and was telling me that he no longer has “to do” lists, he now has “ta da” lists. Changing the ‘o’ to ‘a’ has some subtle and and not so subtle – that’s the jazz hand bit – differences.

Starting with the subtle. Although I do like lists, sometimes they do scare me a bit too. At times it just feels like as soon as you tick/score one thing off, you have to add another one or seven. So maybe having a list that you create once you have done something – the “ta da” moment might be quite a good idea.

It seems to me that right now everyone has so much to do, that we never really take the time to appreciate what we have done. So maybe we should all build some time into our working week for a few “ta da” moments. Jazz hands are of course optional, but for me seem involuntary every time I say “ta da” outloud 😉

We need to talk about learning . . . and teaching

Photo by Cody Engel on Unsplash

Throughout the pandemic I, like many of my peers, have been worried by the overriding narratives around education, particularly HE, that have (and still are) being perpetuated by the media and certain parts of government about education. Debbie McVitty has written an excellent piece on WonkHE about this, and the need for for public engagement with pedagogy.

It’s a great article and does encapsulate the issues around internal university discourse, students’ developing understanding of learning, the work and research that is part of contemporary university life and public perceptions i.e. the lecture and the exam. In the article Debbie calls for more public engagement with pedagogy . Whilst this statement from the Russell Group about blended learning is welcome, it does speak volumes that this is needed at all. And, is this engagement?

In the article Debbie goes writes:
“I see this public engagement in pedagogy work less as the responsibility of institutions and organisations than as a possible emergent area of thinking and practice.” . She goes on to say “this would require people to adopt public personas in ways that are not established at scale in the UK.

Whilst scholarship around pedagogy is now an established field, it is still quite precarious. It’s still not universal in the sector to get formal recognition and promotion based on teaching practice. Whilst the number of Chairs related to learning and teaching is increasing, many staff still face issues around getting adequate official time allocation for developing their teaching practice. So much of the engagement with pedagogy is still at an internal level, which makes wider public debate even more challenging.

However, that discussion needs to take place. Even being able suggest that maybe we shouldn’t be asking our children “what did you learn in school/college/uni today” to “how did you learn in school/college/uni today” could enrich parts of wider public discourse.

One thought did come to mind though. Maybe what we need are Professors of Public Engagement for Learning, in the same way we have those roles within science. For example Professor Hannah Fry, Professor of the Public Engagement of Science at the University of Birmingham. I know many people who would be brilliant in a role like this, who are passionate, successful, articulate and steeped in knowledge about pedagogy and are excellent communicators.

As the pandemic has highlighted there is a real need for public engagement around teaching and learning to create informed, evolving conversations around the realities contemporary education. I wonder if any Uni would be confident and forward thinking enough to do this . . .

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