Being There, Not Just a Peter Sellers Movie:

Well, I can say without a doubt, I had fun in There.  I wasn’t sure what to expect, and honestly, I wasn’t in love with those generic shorts my avatar had on.  I couldn’t help thinking, “My virtual shorts make my avatar’s rear look big.”  Once over that, I felt a little more comfortable in my virtual skin.  I thought several elements made There preferable to SL.

• The volunteers in There seemed more willing to help.  A couple of us had an interesting tour through a pyramid, a movie theater playing Coke commercials, and a chance to try out neat toys, thanks to our guide, areading specialist from Wisconsin.
• It didn’t seem so huge and empty as Second Life did.
• I also thought it was easier to navigate than Second Life.

There were a few drawbacks though.

• I didn’t like the way the text chat rose to the top of the screen.  Many times what was said was hidden behind the names.  Our guide said that having the speech feature that comes with the premium membership takes care of this problem.
• A few people had difficulty in staying on the world.  Getting bumped was annoying for many.
• The same element of rudeness and immaturity could be found in There as well as SL

Our guide told us that many people were creating movies in There.  It would be interesting to know if they have “movie night” at the theater to watch these.

Overall, I enjoyed my time being There.  The hovercraft was fun as was the dune buggy course

Worlds of Warcraft: Leave Me Alone, I’m Trying to Save the World

It’s funny; I’ve never really considered why I play video games or my motivation once I’m inside the game. Do  I want to step away from the pressures of the “real world” for a moment?  Do I feel like my locus of control is so skewed that I feel like I have to be in control of something? Am I playing to be the hero? Just 5 more minutes…just one more level and I’ll be satisfied and quit. Ah, but do I want to? Not really, but I have so much to do, I can’t save the world.

Is that my reason to being in education? Do I want to save the world? My motivations started me thinking about motivation in general. What engages us in informal learning and formal learning? Is there some kind of correlation between our drive in the classroom and what drives us in the games we play?  Back in 1996, Richard Bartle suggested that there are 4 types of game players: The Achiever, The Explorer, the Socializer, and the Killer (We might call them Griefers today).  I looked around my classroom and saw what appeared to be the same taxonomy in my students.

The Achiever: Don’t bother me with the whys and wherefores, just give me the rubric, and I’ll do the job.

The Explorer:  I wonder how many different ways I can solve this problem?

The Socializer: I’m sure that if we work in groups, we’ll come up with a solution.

The Griefer: How many ways can I mess this up for everybody?

I’ve thought in particular about the griefer or two in the classroom.  Actually, I believe this is the smallest percentage of types in the classroom.  Why do they seem like the majority?  Hmmm.  At any rate, instead of bemoaning the fact of their existence, I’m looking for ways to channel into that destructive pattern and turn it into something constructive.  Suppose the griefers were designated “devil’s advocate” in that when groups are working on problem-solving, the griefer could throw a monkey wrench into the works and get the group to think about how they would solve that disruption.

Now that, my friend, is a quest.

Second Life? I’m Just Trying to Get through This One

Actually, I found it pretty engaging and hilarious at one point. I wonder what our avatars say about us? I wrote a paper in 6320 about Second Life as a tool for distributed learning, and I’ve included an excerpt from that paper.

In 1995, I took my first step onto the World Wide Web. I connected to my AOL account, listened to the odd chirping sound my computer was making, and suddenly there I was. How exciting! How thrilling! How breathtaking! How confusing! I got onto the Information Highway with all the skill of a 90 year-old driving a ‘65 Buick. I got lost, narrowly averted blinking-ad-induced seizure, and wished like crazy I could click my heels and find my way back home. In spite of my initial, wild ride, I was convinced this would change the way we lived, worked, and learned.

It’s funny, but I felt the same way about Second Life. Second Life has the potential to be something incredible in distributed learning, and yet it falls short on many levels. It’s becoming very commercially driven, a new “digital divide” is occurring between digital citizens of Second Life. Not quite divided into the haves and have nots, but developing into the have lands and have not lands. If you don’t have land, and you’re not building something, you’re looked upon as a “tourist.” The social construct is quite interesting.

On the whole, I liked Second Life as a chatting environment better than I liked Tapped-In. For example, if you want to grab a small group to discuss a concept and then reconvene to share ideas, in SL you could simply lead your small group onto a small hill, discuss, and then walk back to the main group. I found that simpler than jetting out into one chat room, and finding my way back to the main room.

Was it difficult to navigate? Sure. Did I get lost? a time or two. Did it take me some time to learn how to get around? Not as much as I initially thought. All of those things were true of my initial trip onto the Information Highway. I survived.

This Week in History.

Diaries, or blogs, are funny things. What we think of as ordinary might make an impact or be filled with irony. Historians say that King George III of England wrote in his diary, “Nothing important happened today.” The diary entry was for July 4, 1776. Life’s little “nothings” fill the pages of history books.

So what does this have to do with distance learning. The whole quality/quantity debate still weighed heavily on my mind this week. On one level, perhaps this is better described as quality vs. the lack of quantity. Assumptions are readily made, I have done this, that the longer the semester, the better quality involved in learning. Some of my 5th grade students assume this whenever they write a paper. Some can write a 5th grade dissertation, 10 pages double spaced, and not really say anything. Likewise, I’ve taken full semester classes in which I learned just enough to do well in the class grade wise , but that learning, if you could call it such, disappeared like left socks in a dryer once the class was over. I’ve had 3 and 4 week courses that will stay with me forever.

What makes the difference?

• Good design is good design is good design…etc. There was a cohesiveness in the whole course. Nothing felt isolated or fragmented.
• The instructor was invested in the students. This doesn’t me he, or she, was at the students’ beck and call; however, the instructor didn’t just disappear behind the podium. This could be a problem with those classes whose enrollment creeps into the 100’s, 200’s, 300’s…In those cases, instructors had people in positions of leadership to help manage the class. The fact that the instructor put this into place shows involvement and concern with the students.
• Students felt free to collaborate, and commiserate. This does take time; in fact it may take more time than allotted for the duration of the course. However, I believe that in even a shorter period of time, people feel compelled to speed up contact and collaboration. Study groups form and the relationship is built.
• Assessment was both formative and summative, and learning for mastery was the focus, not just the GPA.

So as with the whole quality vs quantity debate, who’s to say “Nothing happened today,” in those short online classes?

Deb

Hello 6100

This has been a strange week.  Tonight I’m very thankful for the distance learning portion of 6100 as I’m sick and wouldhate to have to drive to Denton, or miss it all together tonight.  Access to resources online has been illustrated last week as wellwith a link provided to an online version of one of the texts.  I’m still waiting for mine from Barnes and Noble.

The whole quality vs. quantity debate had me thinking about my Maymester class I took two years ago.  Perhaps there’s no difference in one  of those and the abbreviated courses (4 weeks) offered by some online universities.  I valued the class, but it was one in which I’d had some prior knowledge and experience.  I’m not sure how much active learning would have taken place if it had been a class totally unfamiliar to me.

Debbie