For the past few weeks I’ve been re-learning how to teach. With the help of my colleagues at UMW such as Dr. Russell, Jerry Slezak, and Dr. Greenlaw it’s been an eye opening experience. As of this writing I know that two of my classes are going to be face to face (Mktg 460 & Mktg 417 – Section 2) and one is going to be online (Mktg 417 – Section 1). After Thanksgiving though, all my courses will be online. My challenge for the online course, and to a lesser degree the other two courses, is how to make them engaging and active while online. There are things I know for sure, things I’m leaning towards, and things I’m still exploring.
I will have class synchronously but I will record the lectures and put them on my YouTube page so that students who are not able to attend during the class will not be penalized
There will be quizzes after each lecture, this worked pretty well in the Spring. The quizzes will take the place of a mid-term
The final exam (if there is one) will be online. This goes for all my classes
I’ll be using Zoom, it’s user friendly and worked well in the Spring
For the online class, I’ll do poll questions via Zoom to increase interaction
Making greater usage of break-out rooms
Sending material to students in advance that we can go over during the class
Using tools such as Padlet and virtual reality to enhance engagement and create discussion
Bringing in more guest speakers. If the class is online then the guest speakers can visit virtually.
How to create virtual challenges that students can participate in
The economics of this isn’t pretty for consumers so be warned. The ticket seller Stubhub has given itself a cash cushion from buyers who had events cancelled due to the COVID-19 pandemic. Originally (pre-pandemic) consumers who bought tickets on the platform were guaranteed a refund if the event was cancelled but less than the two weeks after the NBA and the NHL seasons were put on pause, Stubhub quietly amended its policy (on March 25th) to give consumers who purchased from them a voucher worth 120% instead of a refund. They are now the subject of a class action lawsuit, read more about that here. However, here’s why this their voucher idea is good for Stubhub and bad for consumers.
The vouchers expire by December 2021, so if you had waited more than two years to see that band finally come to your city and they’re not coming back for a while, well you’ll have to choose an inferior substitute
If everybody that had tickets to MLB, NBA, NHL, or concert over the course of multiple months now has vouchers they have to spend by a certain time it’s going to increase demand for tickets. An increase of demand is going to increase prices that sellers can charge (they are free to charge what they want). So I may have paid $100 for tickets to a hockey game in section 211, Row J before the pandemic, if I want those same tickets for the same game a year later I may find that the price is now $130 or more because there are a lot of people who have vouchers that they need to use.
Stubhub charges a lot in service fees, for buyers they charge 10% the purchase price of the ticket and for sellers they charge 15% per ticket. So for a ticket that’s priced at $100 the seller will get $85 and the buyer pays $110. What is to stop Stubhub from raising their fees once sports resume? They were “ethical” enough to quietly change their refund policy, what if they raise the fees on customers to 15% to recoup the value of the vouchers? That means the ticket now costs $115 and coupled with increased demand that may further diminish the actual value of the ticket.
Similar to gift cards, people often receive them and forget to use them, so there will undoubtedly be some people who simply forget to use their vouchers and it becomes a gift for Stubhub.
I started this post nearly six weeks ago, and couldn’t finish it. I’ve thought about it a number of times since then. But as we reach the night before what would have been UMW’s commencement ceremony, I find myself returning to it and to the sentiments it started with and that have continued to resonate with me since then.
I know that none of us in education were ready for what the last two weeks months have been, nor are we prepared for the days and weeks (and hopefully not months) to come. Maybe we should have been, maybe we could have seen the slow yet practically inexorable movement of the COVID-19 virus from other parts of the world to the United States and eventually to our own locales. But in the end it came and we are dealing with the consequences for our work and our lives, and they are not insignificant. Fighting this virus requires remarkable disruption in the daily activities, the gatherings, the human interaction, that are part of our schools, our social life, our culture. Even in this age of digital-mediated work and leisure, we still live in work and school settings that are inherently about being with and near other people.
In the ten days before Mary Washington made the decision to move to remote learning and send our students home, I spent an immense amount of time with other people. [More time spent than I did in most weeks, let alone one that encompassed UMW’s Spring Break.] And after we moved to our homes and away from campus, I continued to be part of teams working to figure out how my school could deal with the impact of the most serious disease outbreakswe have seen in the world in our lifetime. Initially, it was about deciding to close out the in-person aspects of what we offered, then it was dealing with the fallout of that move (such that our students and faculty and staff were not overly impacted), then it was what would the summer look like if students (and others) were not on campus, and now it is how can we, as a school that prioritizes the residential, face-to-face educational experience, imagine a fall semester that may or may not include students on campus, that may or may not include the revenues that residential campuses depend on to pay their employees and support their mission, that will somehow include social distancing and the latest thinking on public health, testing, contact-tracing, and hygienic practices.
I am blessed to be working with a dedicated, hyper-competent, thoughtful group of staff and faculty and Cabinet members, who believe in our mission, who are smart and dedicated to their students and their colleagues, and it is an honor to Zoom with so many of them each week as we work to build a future for our school and our community in the months and years to come.
I am fortunate to work with a President and a Board of Visitors who ask, over and over again, “what is best for the students?” no matter how difficult or complicated the answers to that seemingly simple question might be.
I am lucky to have a home and a family who believe in the mission of education, a family who has supported all of its members during this stay-at-home order, family members who make each other laugh as we make each other meals and make each other at home in our house.
I am grateful that I am in a position to both teach and learn from our students AND to shape the direction of our institution at a time when nothing is normal. I am constantly aware of the responsibility that is involved in being both a teacher and an administrator at this time and place, and I am glad that most days I believe I am making a difference.
And then today, the day before commencement was supposed to happen, I got to preview the video that will be shared tomorrow with graduating seniors, their families, their faculty, and the Mary Washington community. And it broke me, at least a little. Don’t get me wrong. It’s funny, and heartfelt, and full of terrifically caring alumni, our president, my colleagues, and lovely sentiments. [I’ll link to it here once it is released.]
Maybe I should point out here that commencement is one of my favorite times of the year. It is unalloyed joy. It is a chance to meet students at their happiest, parents at their most proud, the community at its most relaxed. It is a payoff for all of us after the always-stressful spring semester (or even the whole academic year). It is goodbye, good luck, thank-you, and hell, yeah all at once.
And watching that video, knowing that we won’t be donning our regalia tomorrow, marching to the bagpipes, congratulating graduates as they walk the Campus Walk gauntlet of proud professors on their way to Ball Circle tomorrow, well, it broke me. Or at least it broke the dam of emotion that I’ve been holding back these months as we have all worked (students, faculty, staff, family) to get through, to survive (literally) to the end of the semester and school year. And I grieved for what we have lost as a community of learners. And I celebrated with happy tears what we have done together and apart. We are capable of both being sad and grateful, regretful of what is lost and thankful for what has been preserved, sorrowful at what was missed and yet celebratory about the amazing things that have been accomplished.
So, hear the bagpipes, sing the alma mater, hug your loved ones (be they near or far), and grieve what was lost and be grateful for what has been accomplished and what is still to come. And know that all of that is okay.
In a normal year, yesterday would have been the day in the semester when the students in Digital History would present their projects to an audience at the History and American Studies Department Spring Symposium. This is a tradition that began back in 2008 with the first iteration of the class. It was an amazing debut of digital history projects during a day which previously had been reserved for presentations of 30-40 page research papers. It was an important moment for digital history projects in the department and has continued to be a wonderful moment for the students, their friends, faculty, staff, and project partners.
I’m sorry we won’t be able to do that public in-person presentation this year. Nothing about this semester has been normal, but I am happy to share the projects and the students’ presentations on them once again. I am incredibly proud of their work, even as they were pulled away from each other and away from some of the original sources they were working with to digitize, analyze, and share.
I encourage you to check out each of the presentations and the Digital Public History sites that students created this semester.
It has undoubtedly been one of the strangest semesters in the past 50 years ago. We started out as a we normally do then things changed suddenly in late February. Cases of the Coronavirus had appeared in Washington State and schools there started to close to slow the spread. In early March there were reported cases in New York City and a few days later the first cases were found in Virginia. On the Monday I was having lunch with another professor and I suggested off-hand that we may have to switch to online instruction (I didn’t think it would happen). Just to hedge my bets, in class on Wednesday I spent the first few minutes of all of my classes talking about the plan to go online should that remote possibility come to fruition. I left campus at 4:45pm that day and a few minutes later I read the email from President Paino which told us that we’re going online and everybody that can leave campus should do so. So much has happened since then and it was undoubtedly strange to the students. I asked one of my outstanding students to finish off his internship by making a short documentary on how the changes have impacted him and other students. He put together this outstanding video to give that perspective. It’s quite good: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kFpbNKGOmnU