XplanaZine

One of the more important aspects of teaching is communicating regularly and effectively with students. Unfortunately, this is not as straightforward as it may seem.

I began teaching online after a a twenty-year stint in the classroom, and generally felt that I was an excellent communicator. By that, I mean I could communicate clearly the information necessary for students to succeed in my classes each semester. I offered them clear and detailed syllabi, convenient access to me outside of class via office hours and (after 1998) e-mail, and well-articulated lectures and instructions in the classroom (at least, in my opinion). My students liked my courses and provided positive feedback.

That was the great thing about the classroom — it was a homogeneous mixer that allowed me to see most students as relatively equal and the same. It allowed, even encouraged, me to devise one-size-fits-all communication solutions for my students and to see those as adequate. Such was my unquestioned paradise for the first twenty years of my profession. I taught. Students learned. Everyone was happy.

And then I started teaching online. At first, the contrast didn’t seem so stark. I was using the same syllabus, was available through regular office hours and e-mail, and worked hard to provide good instructions. But, from the beginning, it was apparent I was not communicating clearly. I was swamped in e-mail, had way-too-many requests for personal meetings, and no one seemed to understand my clear instructions.

Apparently, I had gone from great communicator to grand obfuscator.

And then I discovered the cause of my frustration. I realized, maybe for the first time, that my students were all different. I mean, they were as heterogeneous as they could get. They processed information distinctly, they had different learning styles, and they had different work habits and abilities. Stripped away from the confines and forced, traditional orderliness of the classroom, there were few similarities between the individuals.

The online class allows students to exist as unique individuals who can choose tailored learning paths that correspond more appropriately to their particular learning strengths and weaknesses. This pronounced individualness also applies to their communication choices and patterns. In my class, for example, students can e-mail me, communicate with me via a class discussion board, set up a time to see me in person (if we both happen to be in the same place), or call me on the phone.

What I find interesting is that, while most students prefer e-mail (although each uses it differently), some don’t use it much at all as a way to reach me. I was reminded of this again recently when I had a student e-mail me a short message requesting a phone conference (also interesting). He seemed relieved when we were able to connect, and, at the end of the call, told me several times how “everything is starting to seem clear, now.” This student now schedules regular calls with me and is doing much better in the course.

Of course, the only real “change” in all of this has been in my ability to see my students more clearly. Traditional classroom teaching is bound by centuries of tradition and protocol. It is stable and it is predictable precisely because it forces a particular, prescribed view of education and of students. Even when we try to see our students differently in this setting, we are seeing their differences within a carefully developed viewing filter.

Teaching online, I have had to retrain myself to see without as many filters. My students are allowed to be unique and to interact with my course in their own individual ways. At times this is attractive, while other times it is admittedly less so. In the end, however, it is making me a much better teacher, and it is drawing me closer to what I always knew education should be.