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Wednesday’s webinar and twitter chat with Hypothes.is founders Jon Udell and Jeremy Dean — masterfully MC’d by OpenLearning17′s  Gardner Campbell — gave me so much food for thought.  We are starting to use Hypothes.is in the graduate pedagogy class I teach and we read “Working Openly on the Web” (7 Ways to Think like a Web) during the first week of class. So getting to listen to these three in action was a huge treat.

Our jumping off point  was Vannevar Bush’s “As We May Think,” published in the Atlantic in 1945 as the imperative to leverage the technological innovations of wartime to more peaceful purposes seemed especially compelling.  Bush’s vision of the memex – a computerized combination of note cards, annotations and information sources that could extend the reach (capacity) of any one learner by integrating that individual’s knowledge with the sources that informed it in a durable medium that could then be used and developed by others — underpins web annotation projects such as Hypothes.is. It also supports networked learning frameworks that facilitate collaborative learning, knowledge production and reflection.

As a historian, I’ve been intrigued by Hypothes.is since it first came to my attention last year. Historians are trained to think about how knowledge is produced and organized as an essential element of the research process: What was the author of this essay, article, book trying to say? Why was this archive created? Why are the records organized the way they are? Why did they keep what they kept? What are the assumptions behind the Dewey decimal or LOC cataloguing systems? In what context was this book, manuscript, court record, ship’s manifest created?)

Once you have a handle on those questions you need to figure out how to find where the resources you want to consult are and how to get to them. There is a dialogic process to this that involves reading, searching, thinking, taking notes, making lists, thinking, reading more, going back to your bibliography, supplementing it with new things you find, reading those things, taking more notes, thinking, going back to the older notes, etc…..I realize as I’m typing that this I might be describing a pretty generic research practice for many fields….

Anyway, at some point in there, I think two conceptual maps of a project emerge that overlay each other. The first is defined by types of sources — not so much a list, like a bibliography — but more like a grid of different kinds of evidence with points of overlap as well as nodes of distinction and empty spaces that still need to be filled in. The empty spaces let you know what you need to keep looking for and what silences your work might have to address. The points of overlap provide nuance, depth and corroboration, and the points of distinction raise new questions, redirect the inquiry or foreground a significant problem that might not have been evident when considering one source in isolation.

The second structure comprises the notes and annotations that are attached to those sources but also connected to each other (in your head or on a piece of paper or in your word processor) by the interpretation you are developing about the evidence. I see Hypothes.is as a medium through which those annotations can be assembled AND shared, which is just mind-blowingly wonderful.  (Hypothes.is annotations for “As We May Think” are here.) While the analog or un-networked digital version of note taking certainly allows for all kinds of remixing and re-purposing, with Hypothes.is the annotations can themselves become nodes on or elements of a new kind of crowd / collaborative / collective “source” – a distributed conversation about a particular web page. We’re used to thinking about different kinds of sources: primary, secondary, web-based, archival, print, biographical, testimonial, etc.. Maybe a set of Hypothes.is annotations on a particular article would be a Web 3.0 source? A networked source? A memex-cubed source?

Two points in the wide-ranging Twitter chat especially resonated with me. We had been talking about how Hypothes.is helped realize Bush’s vision of “associative trails” and I asked if Jon and Jeremy saw those trails as supplements to or replacements for conventional taxonomies. Jon thought they were complementary, and Jeremy cautioned that the annotations alone might not constitute “trails” — they needed to be connected or flagged somehow, perhaps by a tag. (I like  the metaphor of trail blazes.)

 

 

 

So, annotations become associative trails when they are marked out by tags or blazes — or any durable and accessible symbolic representation of the cognitive framework that helps you knit meaning into the tapestry (or navigate the cacophony?) of information about the world. And those trails serve as jet-packed complement to the conventional taxonomies for organizing knowledge. YES!!!!!

But how to get to the trails you really want or need? I’m imagining a future when a good chunk of the web has been trailed by Hypothes.is. And I’m imagining that all trails will not be created equal.  I won’t be able to read it all, and I don’t want to fall down a rabbit hole without some warning, so how am I going to know where the good stuff is? How will the high value trails get  filtered forward?

And here came the second nugget moment: Jon Udell responded to a query about this by saying “Help me grok it and I’ll help you make it real.”

Oh wow.

I’m pretty  sure I haven’t groked* it myself.  But here goes:

As teachers we spend a lot of time helping students learn how to find, sort through and evaluate resources. (Crane Librarian has spoken to the challenges of doing that in the library.) And as researchers our own successes (and failures) in finding the sources and communities we need depend largely on a somewhat ineffable combination of content expertise / experience, and skill — the “scaffolding” we’re always talking about providing and developing for learners. In this sense, I do feel like I have groked the research process. But the prospect of having something so powerful and potentially overwhelming as a Hypothes.ized web makes me think I’ll need to develop another kind of sensibility and that the trails and webs marked out by Hypothes.is will need some kind of context sensitive markers to help direct individual users where they want to go.  At the most basic level this would be a system whereby spam and trolls (they are, I fear inevitable) could be marginalized. But even more valuable would be a marker that would flag certain kinds of annotations — and the connections between them — and also allow for the dynamic process of ongoing annotation. What would that look like? I don’t know yet. But it would be cool. And I think it’s worth thinking about. I know I’m hoping for something that would make the web more akin to Doug Dorst’s and J. J. Abram’s book S. and would not like to see a set of user-conditioned algorithms  turn Hypothes.is into a colonial outpost of my Facebook feed.  It also seems that the conceptualization behind sites like Jon Stewart’s Open Note Database project could be really helpful. I’m just not sure how.

So there you go. Not at all groked, I’m afraid. But maybe glimpsed as a desirable future? Thanks for encouraging me to think about this. I will continue to do so.

*my working understanding of “grok” falls closer to the flower child sense of mastery that is so intuitive it feels innate than the techie understanding of internalizing a concept so completely it feels like second nature. But grok is also the only Martian word I know, so that might be an issue.

Greetings Open Learners!

We have a late-breaking, serendipitous opportunity tomorrow morning to talk about David Weinberger’s book, Too Big To Know on Twitter. Weinberger, a philosopher and technologist who writes about the effects of the internet on human relationships, is currently a senior researcher at Harvard’s  Berkman Center. In light of current discussions about the nature of facts and their alternatives, the book’s subtitle — “Rethinking Knowledge
Now that the Facts aren’t the Facts,
Experts are Everywhere, and
the Smartest Person in the Room
is the Room.”   — is especially compelling.

Dr. Weinberger will be Skyping into Tom Ewing‘s undergraduate course on Data in Social Context at Virginia Tech  to talk about Too Big To Know with Tom and his students.

I will be live tweeting the conversation tomorrow (Monday) from 10:10 to 11:00 am EST. If you’re familiar with the book or Weinberger’s work please join us. And if you aren’t please join us anyway!  You can follow along and send questions and thoughts to #Openlearning17 and #Faccollab.

Followers of #gedivt — I will try to flag you all as well, but the best bet would be to check #OpenLearning17

Twitter Handles: Data in Social Context: @DiSCVT ;David Weinberger: @dweinberger ; Tom Ewing: @EThomasEwing

There are times when we are confused,

There are times when we are unsure.

There are times when we do not believe,

And there are times when we are not convinced.

You will find during the course of the semester that we are discussing various concepts that may bewilder you. Some you may agree and some disagree with. Sometimes you may be frustrated for not getting a straight answer and other times understanding may just slip from your grasp. It is imperative however that you trust the process of this experience and emerge yourself in teaching and learning with the GEDI team. Eventually, emerges new meaning, understanding and insight…..

…..granted it will be at the end of the semester, but I promise it will.

Welcome to GEDI Spring 2017!

In the big main section on the bottom of the page….

Every week, all semester long….

Welcome to WordPress. This is your first post. Edit or delete it, then start blogging!

I’m struggling to put into words all that I learned during my recent visit to Iceland, Germany, Switzerland, France, and Italy to learn about higher education. But I will try to highlight some of the lasting lessons that I took away.

I’m a pretty quiet person to begin with, and when I travel, I am even quieter. I try to blend in and not stand out in new places. I prefer to observe what is going on around me as I try to learn about the local community and the cultures and lifestyles of those around me. And on this particular trip, I had the opportunity to not just observe, but to hear the stories of those who lived in the places I was visiting and learning about.

As a group of 15 from Virginia Tech, we learned about universities, research, teaching, international programs, PhD programs, and social responsibility (among other things). But it was through conversations with the students who attended these universities and those who worked at the universities that I really got a feel for the university and the community.

I learned about work life balance at the University of Zurich. I learned that graduate students, post-docs, and faculty are interested in transferrable skills such as academic writing and self-management skills. At Uni Basel, I learned about the ways that the university welcomes new and prospective students. I learned about the transition from school to work and the challenges that students face in this transition at the Academy of Art and Design in Basel. At the University of Strasbourg, I learned about teaching as a graduate student, and the benefits and challenges that come with that. At Politecnico di Milano, I learned about research that took/will take students all over the world. And I learned a little bit about politics too. And in Lugano, I learned about seeing the world, following unexpected dreams, and cooking.

When traveling to a new country, I try to blend in and observe what is around me so that I am not drastically altering the way people act around me and act towards me. But that has to be balanced with a willingness to be open to new experiences and ideas. During my trip to Europe to learn about higher education in other contexts, I found that I learned the most about universities and life in general by asking a few questions and then just listening to people’s stories.

Thank you Michelle, Christine, Erich, Jonas, Josephine, Natasa, Alberto, Lucy and all those who shared a part of their story!

We left DC at 8:30 pm and arrived in Iceland 6 hours later (6:30 am local time). We had reserved a rental car at the airport so we groggily made our way to the rental car counters. But there was no counter for Thrifty rental car. Just a bored looking teenager holding a (barely visible) sign with our name on it. Not sure what to expect, we followed this young chap to the shuttle and off we went to a building next to the airport with a Thrifty/Dollar car rental sign above the door. This looked perfect. We signed the forms, declined car insurance (more on this later), and set off in a brand new Mazda 2 (100 km on the odometer!). 

We made our way towards Reykjavik where we planned to spend the morning, going to a cafe, seeing the sights, and exploring. So we parked our car near a cafe and decided to go from there. But we had forgotten that it was Sunday morning and  everything was closed. We finally found a cafe that was open on Laugavegur (we later found out that Laugavegur is one of the oldest shopping streets in Iceland), had some coffee, an Icelandic donut (kleinur), and grilled ham and cheese croissant. 

Shortly after eating, we met a new puffin friend called Leif near Hallgrimskirkja and his friend Leifer Eriksson. 

  
We walked around Hallgrimskirkja, walked through a sculpture garden with very, um, interesting sculptures, looked at the Viking boat sculpture, and headed to the harbor in preparation for our puffin cruise. 

The puffin cruise was cold and wet and fantastic! The boat took us out to puffin island (Lundey) and we saw so many puffins!

While on the way back from puffin island, we saw a Viking ship  docked in the harbor and we were told that it was making its way from Norway to the USA. So naturally we had to go check it out. We ran (yes, we sprinted in excitement) to where the boat was docked only to discover that we were just in time to walk around the Draken Harald Hårfagre and chat with the Vikings. 

    

After chatting with the Vikings, we parted ways and began our journey on the Golden Circle. The first stop was  Þingvellir, which was the location of the first outdoor parliament in Iceland around 930 AD where Iceland was founded as a country. This is also where there is a rift between the American and European continental shelves.     

From there, we headed towards towards Geysir. It was a long drive (probably at least an hour) so naturally I fell asleep in the car.  When I woke up, I immediately saw a sign for ice cream and we had to stop. The place was a fun little farm that made ice cream on site. We each got a giant ice cream cone and ate our ice cream with the cows. We are just living the dream. 

  
It was getting late and we still had so much to do. So we continued on to Geysir. We got to see the geysir erupt several times. While everyone else was poised waiting for the perfect photo, we were just enjoying the area. Someone standing next to us asked us if we didn’t have a camera since we weren’t taking photos. We explained that we were just watching, so they said that they would send us their video of the geysir. Best of both worlds!

Our third stop on the golden circle was Gullfoss, which was absolutely beautiful. It is one of the most magical places. It is three levels of waterfalls the last of which seems to disappear into the earth.  These pictures pretty much sum it up. 

     

The day was coming to an end so we started to make our way to Garður where we were staying. We were already several hours late, but we passed by Kerið, a 6500 year old crater, and had to stop. We ran up, took some photos, and had to be on our way. 

We got to our bed and breakfast at 9pm said hello to our host, and asked if there was anywhere we could get dinner. Our host Disa recommended Duus in Keflavik. We got there and decided to try some of the local fare. We ordered shark and whale (I’m sorry, grandma). When the waitress brought us our food, she wished us luck (never a good sign).  The shark came in a little cup with two shots of unknown liquid. Apparently we were supposed to eat the shark and chase it with the shot (Gary had to ask because we didn’t know what to do). It was…an experience. We finally got back to the B&B and crashed. 

We got up bright and early the next morning at 4 am so we could catch our flight to Munich. We ate a quick breakfast of things Gary found in the refrigerator and decided should go on toast (butter, cheese, salami, and cucumbers with a side of red peppers). We filled up the car with very expensive gas and went to return the car. We were loading our bags into the shuttle when the rental car person came over to us looking very concerned. There were two scratches in the side of the car and we were told that they were going to have to put a hold on my credit card (remember earlier when I said we declined car insurance through the the rental car company?) I was almost in tears, and level headed Gary went over to the car to investigate further. With a little bit of spit and tears and elbow grease, we found out that it wasn’t actually a scratch, just a smudge. We were released from the rental car holding area and made our way to the airport!

Thank you Iceland for the spectacular adventure! See you again soon!

  

It is Friday night, and I leave tomorrow for Iceland, Germany, and then Switzerland for the Global Perspectives Program. I keep repeating this to myself because it hasn’t really sunk in yet.

This past week, I have been running on caffeine and lists. Each day there was a new list with all of the things that I needed to get done for classes, work, summer research, and preparing for the trip. Everything that I had to do was on those lists.

And now, I have checked off (almost) everything from my to-do list. And I can actually start to think about the trip. I have no idea what adventures lay ahead, but I am so excited for adventure. I am excited to stop in Iceland and go on a Puffin Cruise. I am excited to navigate unknown roads as Gary drives us around the country. I am excited to visit relatives in Garmisch, and I am excited to meet new friends in Zurich.

But I am most excited to talk to people, to hear their stories, and learn about other people and other places. As part of the Global Perspectives Program, we get to travel to several universities and meet with faculty, students, and staff. I am so excited to just learn about another corner of the world.

 

I was talking to my mom about grad school and all the work I had left to do today. And she said: “Sometimes it’s a cordon bleu kind of day, and sometimes it’s a mac and cheese kind of day.” In other words, sometimes you can accomplish amazing things, and sometimes you just have to do small things. Today is a mac and cheese kind of day. But who knows, maybe tomorrow there will be cordon bleu.

I switched fields two years ago for a number of reasons. I have always been drawn towards teaching and mentoring. I think everyone should have access to good education. I don’t think education should be limited to those who can afford to pay for it, and I really don’t like the phrase: Those who can, do. Those who can’t, teach.

So I found myself switching from engineering to engineering education. And I love it. I learned about several learning theories, reflected on my own educational experience, and tried out new ideas in my classroom. I don’t need to change the world. I am happy if I can make things better for a few people, if I can inspire a few people.

What I would love to do is help change the culture of engineering education and the culture of higher education more broadly.

But I am just one person from a small town in Colorado. As I read Parker Palmer’s  A New Professional: The Aims of Education Revisited, I found myself thinking “well what could that one person have done?” Palmer described a case study from the medical field where a patient dies unexpectedly after an uneventful liver transplant. An overworked resident with very little experience as a resident was on staff at the time. My thought process as I read this case study was: What could the resident do? They were being forced to work long hours (that is what residents have to do, after all). And so on.

But then Palmer when on to say the resident in this case study could help change the institution instead of merely operating within the institution. At this point, my mind started to go off in a million different directions. Palmer then says:

The hidden curriculum of our culture portrays institutions as powers other than us, over which we have marginal control at best—powers that will harm us if we cross them. But while we may find ourselves marginalized or dismissed for calling institutions to account, they are neither other than us nor alien to us: institutions are us.

Institutions are us. Institutions are social constructions (I even talked about this in my constructivism class but it hadn’t really sunk in yet I guess). Institutions can change. But they first need to be questioned.

A lot of engineering and engineering education is about questioning and changing things and making things better. As I mentioned earlier, I am perfectly content making small changes and small improvements. But what if small improvements could lead to big changes? What if I (and other educators) could help change the culture of engineering?

Who’s with me! Cordon bleu anyone?