Toward a Humanities of Global Consciousness

Read my blog post at Evolutionary Landscapes. It’s called “Toward a Humanities of Global Consciousness.”

The Psychology of Apocalypse

The world will not end in 2012. I tell you why.

An Immodest Proposal for Sorting Student Writers

1. Divide all incoming students into two groups: those who read and those who don’t. By “read” I mean books. By “books” I mean non-vampire-wizard books. Sub-divide the readers into those who annotate while they read and those who don’t. This gives us three groups: non-readers, readers, and reader-annotators.  Set each group on its own track, only allowing them to take courses with their own kind.

2. Adjust the grading system for writing courses. Give the non-readers .75 value for the grade they receive in their non-reader writing course. Give readers full credit. Give annotators 1.25 value. At any point, non-readers or non-annotators can repent, overhaul their behavior, and jump up a level. At this point, the “jumpers” must say goodbye to their old friends for good.

3. Non-readers can be assigned reading, but we shouldn’t give them full credit for the course, even if they read it. They are non-readers. Just because they have read their reading doesn’t mean they’ve read it. No instruction on how to read will be given. They are, after all, non-readers.

4. The writing of non-readers should not be graded for content or technique. It should be graded for word count. There is no need to grade it, since it won’t ever improve. Colleges and universities should decide whether or not to staff the non-reader classes, or to allow papers to be submitted to CheckMyWordCount.com complete with thumbprint and birth certificate. Dollars previously allocated for instructing non-readers should be applied to the salaries of those who teach readers and reader-annotators.

5.  Reader instructors should only teach how to annotate. Their only goal is create “jumpers.” This instruction should be so disciplined and annoying as to prematurely force the readers to jump. It should be like basic training. You jump or you stop reading altogether and slide back down to the non-readers. I’m not joking around here.

6. Annotator instructors should do no instructing. They should only recommend books and talk about writing, books, and ideas. Classes should be conducted at a coffee house. Pretentiousness should be fostered in the first half of the course, and then curbed in the second. There should be a lot of discussion about how impossible it is to be a writer, both financially and emotionally, in this country.

7. Non-readers should be reminded every day that ditch-diggers, grave diggers, and tunnel diggers (basically all forms of diggers) are people, too, and that even some of them read.

8. Annotators should never be graded. Never. They should not even have to show up. They should, at the end of the semester, give you a piece of writing of X number of words. This will be an “A” times 1.25. Then, the department will assess all writing: non-readers, readers, and reader-annotators, and verify that the process worked.

Ten Things I Have Learned About Teaching Online

I have been teaching online courses at the post-secondary level since 2006. Here is what I have learned so far:

1. Learning can happen anywhere. It can happen in the classroom, in the kitchen, and on a Red Bull-fueled road trip. It even happens online. In fact, when all else is equal, you might learn more in an online class, according to a 2010 meta-analysis by the Department of Education.

2. Of course, the above study focuses on ideal conditions. In the real world, the average student in an online course is busier, less prepared, and less dedicated than the average “traditional” student. See this article.

3. An online classroom is a different medium than a traditional classroom. You can’t take your traditional syllabus, roll it up, and stuff it into a USB port. You have to engage students differently. You have to learn new skills.

4. Students greatly appreciate hearing your voice. I create animated/narrated PowerPoint slide-shows, screen-casts, and audio lectures.  Human connection established (sort of). Also, as  this study implies, podcasts are better than professors at certain things. And don’t you want to be in heavy rotation on your students’ iPods?

5. When you record a lecture, don’t mention page numbers or current events. (Don’t say, for instance, “I can’t wait to chow down on some 4th of July barbecue this weekend and listen to Justin Bieber’s newly released album, True Belieber, but first let’s turn to page 722  in the 3rd Edition of Morris’ Introduction to Economics.) That way, when your textbook edition changes along with the calendar, you can still re-use old lectures. Basically, you can recycle yourself, a practice that is no different from showing up to class every semester and telling the same story about the time you ran into Michael J. Fox at the Piggly Wiggly.

6. Message boards are crap. They are sprawling, out-of-control rhizomes. (I know, I know, rhizomes are actually trendy metaphors for awesome postmodern awesomeness. Whatever. Put down that copy of A Thousand Plateaus you think you’re understanding and wake up to the real world. Rhizomes are fruitless weeds.)

7. If you’re going to use message boards, get out ahead of the crowd and start replying to students right away, or be the first one to post. You need to control the discussion early on and avoid feeling overwhelmed when you log on and find fifty posts waiting for you. (I know, I know, be a rhizome, man, let the chaos unfold—No, yank it out by the roots!)

8. Design matters. Too bad Blackboard is the North Korea of Learning Management Systems. That’s okay. There aren’t many rhizomes in North Korea. However, you can still follow basic design principles to ensure your students will navigate the site successfully. I like the C.R.A.P. system created by Robin Williams (the designer, not the comedian). Contrast, Repetition, Alignment, Proximity. I’ll let you explore this some more, but let’s take “repetition” for example. I put the assignment due date in the link title they click on. I also put the due date in the actual assignment description, on the syllabus calendar, in the portion of the syllabus calendar I post under “course content,” and finally I post it under “announcements.” (Copy-and-paste was made for this kind of work.) If you’re an advertiser, you want your message on a billboard, a radio ad, above a urinal, and flapping behind a skywriter.

9. Weekends are not for working. You have a graduate degree, for Pete’s Sake. Don’t work on the weekends. Tell your students your week is over at 4:00 Friday afternoon. You don’t check email on the weekends. You don’t log on to Blackboard. You don’t respond to emergencies. You watch True Blood and drink margaritas. See you Monday morning. I don’t care if students do all of their work on Sunday night. That’s when I clip my nails and teach my children Swahili. That’s just what you do when you have a graduate degree.

10. Don’t let the 37 log-in prompts fool you, Learning Management Systems are connected to the internet. You should be, too. Share articles, videos, and lectures that are relevant (or not) to your course. People like the internet, I hear.  Open Culture has a staggering collection of relevant material, including 500 free online courses from top universities. For crying out loud, why are bothering to teach your students about positive psychology when you can have Martin Seligman do it? You think you know more than him? Besides, it leaves more time for True Blood and Margaritas!

Plato’s Cave Animated

More from Edgar Morin

Our situation on this Earth is paradoxical. Interdependence is multiplied. Awareness of being united in life and death connects us to each other. Communication is triumphant, the planet is crisscrossed with networks, fax lines, portable phones, modems, Internet. And yet general incomprehension is still the rule. Of course we have witnessed tremendous progress in understanding each other, But incomprehension seems to progress even faster.   — Seven Complex Lessons in Education for the Future

A Quote by Edgar Morin

We need a kind of thinking that reconnects that which is disjointed and compartmentalized, that respects diversity as it recognizes unity, and that tries to discern interdependencies. We need a radical thinking (which gets to the root of problems), a multidimensional thinking, and an organizational or systemic thinking.

from The Shallows, by Nicholas Carr

“In the choices we have made , consciously or not, about how we use our computers, we have rejected the intellectual tradition of solitary, single-minded concentration, the ethic that the book bestowed on us. We have cast our lot with the juggler.”  page 114

 

Introducing: Professor Tom Cruise

Whenever I teach technical writing or business writing, I bring my good friend Tom Cruise into the classroom. The following scene from Jerry McGuire is a good introduction into the process and potential consequences of using writing to challenge the status quo in the business environment. He faces a crisis, becomes reflective, becomes expansive in his writing, writes with an audience in mind, and then polishes and publishes it for all to read.

Then he gets fired.

Of course, eventually it works out, and he finds true love with that woman who won’t stop squinting. He goes on something of a Hero’s Journey and finds a way to do his job more ethically and with more joy. Certainly it’s a cheesy movie, but I think this sequence is at least as entertaining as most technical writing textbooks.

(This clip does begin with some swearing, and may not be suitable for work…ironically?)

Jackson Pollock’s “Mural”

It’s “a stampede… [of] every animal in the American West, cows and horses and antelopes and buffaloes. Everything is charging across that goddamn surface.” 

—Jackson Pollock


We got a nice look at Jackson Pollock’s “Mural” at the Des Moines Art Center this weekend. It is perhaps the most representational painting of his mature work (there is clearly a horse’s head in the middle, and as the above quotation indicates, he was painting a stampede, though perhaps a Cubist stampede….the work was significantly inspired by Picasso’s “Guernica”).

Pollock would probably tell you that all his work was representational, even good old “Autumn Rhythm” here:

I agree. This is just as (if not more) representational than the Sistine Chapel, which doesn’t look like anything I’ve ever seen.

I’ve always viewed Pollock’s work as a kind of content-less representation of the human mind, a sort of bird’s eye view of consciousness, if birds could peer into our minds and observe their inner-workings from the outside. (That would be creepy.)

That is, whenever I see his work, I see synapses firing, though I, as the viewer, must supply the direct phenomenology experience. The notes have been written. I must write the lyrics.

It’s very similar to what happens when you close your eyes and observe your thoughts and emotions rising and falling as empty secretions, as sensations that might appear as clouds or colors or vibrations without any definition. Pay little attention to the particular faces, sounds, and words that inhabit them, except to note recurring themes with brief labels (“work stress,” “that weird new neighbor,” “I’m hungry”) before the thought-cloud dissipates and yields to the next.

There is a fine line between a saint and a psycho. Usually that line is the willingness to confront the content of the mind before releasing it. Failure to do so leads to psychopathy. Success leads to classical enlightenment.

The influence of Navajo sand painting on Pollock’s work should not be overlooked either. In fact, it’s critical to understanding Pollock’s process and the impetus behind his work. To Pollock, the blank canvas was a liminal state, entered at a time of crisis, and a place where turmoil and change could be made manifest, worked out, as it were, on the page. It is helpful to view a Pollock painting as a record of this process, as, perhaps, the captain’s log recorded during a storm.