Wednesday, September 30, 2009

What's that on your Boot-Soles?


Confronting The Walt Whitman Archive is akin to confronting Whitman's famous "Song of Myself," in that there is simply too much there to grasp it all together. So, I made my start with one of the obvious advantages of the digital archive - the ability to see and compare the seven versions of "Song of Myself" which Whitman published in the US over his lifetime. I decided to look at the close of the poem (starting at "Listener up there!") in each edition, comparing the changes made.

This section didn't change dramatically over the years, but as Whitman insists in the poem that no thing is too small or soft but it can be the hub of the universe, the subtle differences I can see still interest me. Other than the deletion of "here you" from the line "Listener up there! Here you...what have you to confide to me?" in the 1881 and 1891 versions of the poem, the changes to this section are mainly in punctuation and in the typesetting (is that the right way to describe the layout of the words on the page?).

To begin with the appearance on the page, you can see here the first page of this section in the 1855, 1856, 1867, and 1891 editions:



It's hard to see on the blog, but looking at them together, I noticed that while the first edition (1855) has small print, the lines have enough room to spread their full length across the page, rarely having to spill into a second, indented line. This impression of
s p r e a  d   i   n  g and stretching (a la Walt's soul, which early in the poem reaches from his beard to his toes, or like his body, which late in the poem he effuses in "eddies" and lets "drift in lacy jags.") is amplified by the profusion of ellipses (more about that in a bit!). Later editions, like the 1856 and 1867, offer larger print, which means fewer words and lines per page (a chance to focus on them more closely, perhaps?), but this also means the lines become more cramped, hitting the edges of the page and having to retreat with an indent. These editions also bristle with more punctuation than the earliest version (more about this later). The final two editions of Leaves of Grass return to a style similar to that of the 1855 edition - with the lines more often stretching their full length instead of wrapping around, and the words less restricted by punctuation. I think it's pretty clear what style I prefer for this section, but what style best suits your idea of the poem?

To return to the profusion of ellipses in the 1855 edition - they're everywhere in the section I'm looking at....

"Do I contradict myself? 
Very well then....I contradict myself;
I am large....I contain multitudes."


And...

"I depart as air...I shake my white locks at the runaway sun"

Later additions tighten up the words, using more definite punctuation. The ellipses never return:

"Do I contradict myself?
Very well then, I contradict myself,
I am large, I contain multitudes."


And...

"I depart as air, I shake my white locks at
      the run-away sun"


The shedding of the ellipses suggests a more certain, more forceful, more assured voice. But...I prefer the hint of hesitation....the space for breathing (echoing Walt's interest in inhalation and exhalation), and...the thinking implied in the original ellipses. And, don't they suit the poem's sentiments well?
"I depart as air" dot dot dot seems much more fitting than "I depart as air" comma.

In the 1871 edition a new punctuation appears: parentheses. "I am large, I contain multitudes" slips into a pair:

"Do I contradict myself?
Very well, then, I contradict myself;
(I am large--I contain multitudes.)"

And in 1881, another pair grip the closing line of the stanza above, too:

"Listener up there! what have you to confide to me?
Look in my face while I snuff the sidle of evening,
(Talk honestly, no one else hears you, and I stay only a minute longer.)"


What do you make of turning these lines into (asides)? And what do you think of the archive as a place or means for digging into Whitman's poetry?




Monday, September 21, 2009

Novice in the Archive

Gearing up for our project with the Whitman Archive this week, I've spent some time checking out the British Library's Online Gallery. Here's what I see so far:



The home page of the archive is minimalistic, with a lot of white space and not a lot of text or buttons. The focus is on a few images the center that scroll across the page much like the feature of iTunes that lets users virtually flip through their music collection (as though in a jukebox). Each image represents a content area that you are invited to explore...

There's also a box with popular searches (the more popular the search, the bigger the font).

Some images allow zooming, rotating and other manipulation. All images have contextual notes about dates, authors, and how the image came to be in the collection.

A few other archives that caught my eye are:


The Book Cover Archive, which is pretty much what it sounds like. This is a design eye candy, with a literary bent. I suspect it has potential as a tool for talking about print culture, design, selection, etc....


And, Revolution and Romanticism and The Word on The Street, both of which feature street literature from the 18th and 19th centuries (broadside ballads, penny dreadfuls, chapbooks and other tales of dastardly deeds or derring-do). By the by, chapbooks could make an interesting pairing with New Media, as they were popular before and while copyright laws were getting formulated; they were cheaply made, intended for a mass audience and were often mash-ups of many styles, stories, and genres - and they were very often rip-offs (or appropriations?) of other authors' works....

Backward Design

Trying to design a lesson plan "backwards" - a la Grant Wiggins' and Jay McTighhe's advice in Understanding by Design - means first focusing on:

1) the big ideas or questions you want students to be able to understand and engage with.

Then, figuring out how you'll:

2) assess whether they understand (AKA, what evidence will show you that they have learned).

And only then:

3) designing your class plan.

Trying to apply this process to teaching Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken" proved to be trickier than expected (just as Frost apparently said about that poem, in fact). What I like about the backward design process is its focus on  learning (as opposed to just teaching - which often means teaching more by habit than by design). This focus comes primarily from having to first spell out the big issues and questions you want your students to be able to understand and engage with. This encourages you to work with students on questions that are actually part of your own work or the work of your discipline; often scholarly work and the lives of professors seem like mysteries to students, but this process might make it more clear why the work/their work/your work is engaging, relevant, and important.

At the same time, this isn't easy! I struggled to get from the big questions & assessment phases to the concrete class design - largely because, like an ESL student who has just learned all the ways she can make a grammar mistake in English - I felt extremely aware of all the ways I could make a class plan too top-down, too unfocused, too "activity"-oriented, etc. to make up my mind on what would actually work...

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

CMS = See a Mess?

The term “Course Management System” sounds more ominous than educational, as though it were designed to shuffle students mechanically through a chute, rather than to facilitate their learning. This, in a sense, is what Erna Kotkamp argues in “Digital objects in e-learning environments,” when she writes that the primary function of a Course Management System (CMS) is to facilitate administrative tasks, such as grading, rather than facilitating learning. San Francisco State University (SFSU) uses its own CMS, which was created to save the university money and to hopefully be more responsive to faculty and student needs than other systems. But, the question remains: are students boxed-in by ilearn? (judging from the ilearn logo, which features a person crammed into the “I” of ilearn, boxing students in, seems to be the goal!)

To begin with, ilearn itself has a rather dull, bleak interface. Many teachers try to spruce it up with content-related images, but the effect is often like adding tinsel to a dead Christmas tree – it just doesn’t make enough difference. It might even make the tree look a little sadder than before. The impact of ilearn’s aesthetics is difficult to assess precisely, but my sense is that it has a dampening effect – and creates the impression that whatever can occur in this site will likely be dull, gray, and institutional instead of lively and engaging. Likewise, the site’s emphasis is clearly not on visual learning or engagement but primarily on written, static communication.

In addition, there is a uniformity of appearance to every course’s ilearn site – each course is always organized into three columns, with only minor changes possible, even by teachers. The site also contains an explicit hierarchy – for example, only the teacher can post to the “news” forum and every participant is “forced” (yes, forced is actually the word that ilearn uses!) to subscribe to that forum (meaning they will receive email updates whenever something is posted there). Each “news” post appears in the right-hand column on the course site’s front page, while other (read: student) forum posts remain buried within forums. Thus, the information from the teacher posts is separated as “news” and privileged as important and urgent. In contrast, the student’s contributions must occur within the boundaries set by the teacher; students cannot start their own forums, but may only post within teacher-created forums. However, students may add their own topic “threads” within forums or reply to other students’ “threads.”

As you may have noticed, the language of the site, like its gray background, is quite formal and impersonal: everyone in the course is labeled a “participant,” discussions are called “forums,” class materials are “resources.” This encourages an impersonal, scholarly, but cold and rigid learning environment, rather than one of personal, lively, interaction. On the one hand, this encourages students to be thoughtful about their contributions to the class site, but on the other hand, it may discourage them from engaging fully or comfortably in learning by participating in the site.

Contrary to Erna Kotkamp's assertion, my anecdotal experience of ilearn in 3 semesters is that the main use for the site (when professors choose to use it at all) is to use it for the discussion forums. The most successful discussion forums I've seen were organized by week, with a requirement (from the professor) that each student participate by posting 1-2 thoughtful questions in response to the week’s reading. These posts were expected to include ideas of possible answers or ideas, quotes, etc. to consider when trying to come up with an answer. Most importantly, replying to other students’ posts was encouraged and accepted in lieu of starting a post. The result was that each week there were many postings, with many replies. Most posts had at least one reply and some had upwards of 5 or 6 replies.

This forum format, which is called “discussion,” obviously differs quite a bit from in-person classroom discussion. The type of discussion which is possible in the ilearn forums and which occurs there is more often more formal, lengthy and thoughtful than spur-of-the-moment discussion in a classroom. It is less directed by the professor (despite the professor being the one who sets up the “forum” for discussion), in that comments and replies are made from student to student rather than student to teacher. It allows longer one-to-one interaction between two students than might be comfortable in a classroom. It gives students time to think over, or digest material and questions and formulate responses to one another and the texts. It allows for including links to other pages and texts that are interesting and related. It is more durable than in-class conversations in that your comments remain on the page throughout the course, and can be a resource, reminder, or jumping off point for yourself and others throughout the semester. These forums even persist beyond the semester – you can return to previous ilearn course pages as long as you are enrolled at SFSU. Also, these forums provide a space for students who are not comfortable speaking up in class to “speak up” as it were online, to contribute in that way. And, as opposed to blogs or other open web resources, the ilearn course is a relatively “safe” space for these students to participate in. If for example, a student is shy about speaking up in class, I would imagine that speaking to the world-wide web wouldn’t be much more comfortable. The ilearn site strikes a balance in that it is more public than just turning in an assignment to a teacher, but still more private than posting it for the whole web to read.

Using the discussion forum in successfully can make learning feel more like a cooperative and interactive process. Although it is somewhat hindered by the clunky features of ilearn, it nevertheless offers a learning process that involves preparation, thoughtfulness, creation of your own ideas, and responding to others’ ideas as well as your own. It structures learning as something that doesn’t happen just in a classroom, but something that each “participant” is engaging in and creating with the class. It encourages students to come to class with ideas to discuss, rather than expecting to be told what ideas to have about the reading, or coming to class having read the material but not yet formulated any ideas about it.

Still, the success of the discussion forums depends both on the engagement of the students – their willingness to think, work, write, and post – as well as the guidance of the instructor. Instead of functioning well, like I described above, these forums can become mere means of turning in assignments when instructors aren’t thoughtful about their purpose. This is most likely to happen when: an instructor fails to encourage replying to posts, or actively discourages replying; a professor doesn’t require (thoughtful) participation; the post is focused on a grade more than on a conversation; the forum is structured more for ease of grading than for thinking and communicating; or the instructor uses the posts as free lesson-planning. Of course, even in well-structured forums, there are downsides and risks – one is the sense of being left hanging – of posting and getting no response online or in class, from peers or the instructor.

Outside of discussion forums, the uses of ilearn tend to be limited, but with creativity can be worked around. One such very successful project I experienced (as a TA) was an ilearn Virtual Coffeehouse for an 18th century literature unit, in which students were asked to create 18th c. avatars and “visit” several coffeehouses and engage in conversations with their peers about literature and events from the period. Despite the inconvenience of navigating from one “Coffeehouse” forum to another, this assignment was wildly successful. Many students went above and beyond our expectations in researching and creating their online personas and crafting their conversations; they added pictures and photos, inserted stage directions, wrote in dialects, and even made up their own 18th-century-style poetry. They seemed more engaged in this project than with any other assignment, not only in the thoughtfulness of their literary analyses, but also in their imagination of the historical period, and the connections they recognized among culture, gender, class, literature, politics, economics, etc. Their enthusiasm for the project spilled over into class discussions as well, enlivening these and encouraging many more students to participate in-person in addition to participating online.

What successes or failures have you experienced (as student or teacher) in online education forums? What made the difference between success and failure?

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Teach Naked?

Jose Bowen makes a case for "teaching naked" - meaning, teaching without technology in the classroom.  He advocates using technology like video podcasts to deliver lectures outside of class time so that students and professors can instead use those valuable minutes for discussion and engagement. If that's too much to ask, Mr. Bowen says, at least ditch the PowerPoint presentations, which turn both teachers and students into zombies.

It's clear Mr. Bowen can come up with an eye-catching title, but what do you think of his ideas? He has a point about the snooze factor of slideshow presentations - it is infinitely frustrating watching a slideshow lecture that you could've gone through more productively if the professor had just emailed it to you. And yet, there are times when I've found slideshow presentations worked very well - particularly for looking at passages of poetry together, or for considering a visual representation of a literary idea. Likewise, I think he has a point that as online education becomes more common, the main asset that brick-and-mortar universities have to offer is the opportunity for face-to-face interaction; the more we can actually work with professors and other students, the better our experience, and the more we learn...

Curation vs. Consumption

The Digital Humanities Manifesto asserts that the shift to new media "recasts the scholar as curator and the curator as scholar" (8), an idea that I'm still considering. I'm curious to see where we might take the possibilities for scholarly curating in the digital age. The work of curation seems immensely valuable for tackling the endless stream of information which we, and our students, encounter daily. Incorporating curation projects into the classroom could certainly help develop skills of evaluating sources, identifying connections, and understanding the effects of display, juxtaposition, packaging, etc.

My concern, though, is that curating, especially if it is something we're asking of students, might devolve into something more akin to collection and consumption. In the process of searching, selecting, and grouping there is definitely a sense of ownership (especially when displaying) that at its best, I would imagine, would really motivate students and help them feel connected to their work. At its worst, though, it is ownership in a very negative sense, in which everything is so easy to access, so easy to alter, so easy to see/read/consume, that the values and differences between the different sources fall away - if everything is something you can "collect" and display on your blog or your facebook page, then the link to the news of a firefighter's death in the LA fires this week is at risk of being no more significant than the link to a video of a skateboarding dog.

What does successful scholarly, analytical, digital curation look like? How might we evaluate the success or analytical depth of curation? How does a viewer/reader follow a curator's analysis?



Just as a sidenote: I'm not sure what to make of the rebus style of the manifesto. It's sort of charming, in a let's-not-take-everything-so-seriously way, and yet it also comes across as though the authors just discovered a CD of clipart. Perhaps I'm just a little weary of web cutesy-ness (ie, social networking as ice cream sales, etc.)?