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School’s out!
The end of the academic year comes in many forms and guises. The end of the examination period, the submission of a final piece of work, the release of the grades and many more ways you can say that’s the end of this year! Unlike the calendar year, the end of the academic year comes in the summer as a natural end to work. It is like the school year that was shaped centuries ago! The reason for the summer break was the need for the kids to work in the harvest, a tradition that has remained past the agrarian society.
So, what does the end of an academic year signifies? For the students, there is a sense of accomplishment as they have completed their course or level of study. All the hard work, coming to class, long hours of making notes to complete THAT assignment, and all the heartache preparing the exams finally paid off and they can see their labours paying off. It is also a natural intellectual boundary that takes them a step up in the way they see the world through the lens of their subject. For colleagues the end of an academic year is slightly different…the next academic year’s preparation is upon them, the paper that needed writing is now facing a fast-approaching deadline and the resetting of all these priorities as set by management.
Since joining academia, the process of end of summer, has changed significantly from the working on research and scholarly output to administrative tasks! For those interested in a career in academia, on top of working with others, enjoying a discipline and being involved in education a wider question on how well they can handle paperwork, albeit virtual, is part of the job description. That comes as part of the job, always did, it is that it feels more intertwined with what we do.
There is undoubtedly a change in the role education plays in peoples lives especially Higher Education. This is a sector that in the 1970s recruited less than half a million to now being near the three million mark. This massive rise on student number has changed the way we see high education and the role it plays in our society. This is not the education of the elite but the opportunity for all to embrace opportunities and explore areas of interest that will allow them to find themselves, employment, build a career and ultimately a life! Whilst HE is still expanding the job market is becoming increasingly competitive and the cost of living is forcing people to adjust in how they plan the future.
So, what will the future hold for the end of year hiatus? Financially HE is facing challenges, culturally it is under attack, and socially it is being critiqued around whether it offers what it was set up to do. All these are short- and long-term challenges and they are not going away. Some will affect in future, access to HE, others will question the content and the basis of academic freedom and finally with the onset of Ai, the scope of HE itself. Despite all, I am still hopeful that HE is not a degree nor a job opportunity but a moment in any person’s life that takes a step up. It is a very important human need to fulfil curiosity and to embrace a path that wasn’t clear at the beginning of the journey. The first academia was founded in an agora under a tree and maybe we get back to that, but in the end human intellect will need stimulation and that is where, despite all challenges, HE prevails.
Perhaps the future of higher education won’t be defined by buildings or systems, but by the enduring human need to learn, to question, and to grow. Whether under a tree in an agora or through the lens of AI, the pursuit of knowledge remains a profoundly human act—and that is where higher education will always find its purpose.
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An annual reflection and a glance to the year ahead!
As we complete the last day before the Christmas break, I encourage you to sit back and reflect on what you have achieved this academic term. Some of you will have started university for the first time and will be getting to grips with the processes, the assessments, the staff and the learning styles of the university. Some of you will be navigating second year and the new expectations of you at this level, learning to move beyond discussion to instead evaluation and being critical, honing your research skills in preparation for your dissertations in the next academic year. For some of you this may have been a hard journey and one that will progress into the second semester, but please know that this will build up your skills and your confidence, turning you into the academic you need to be in order to succeed.
For some of you, you will have moved into your third and final year. With this comes more independence, and some of this may feel uncertain, confusing, and a bit unknown. Please know that again this does not last and you will find your feet. Whether that is a lightbulb moment with your dissertation, or finally finding the right article that helps you to write your essay. For those of you that have exams coming up in January, make sure you can enjoy the festivities and take a well earned break. But when you find those moments where you’re bored and have nothing to do, and you start to think about your criminology course, I think that will be a good indication to pick up a book, to read through your notes, or to practice some exam questions.
On a personal note as I reflect on this year there are things I am definitely proud to have achieved, and things I would like to work on in the future. One of my biggest achievements this year was completing my PhD. It has been a long, difficult journey, spanning over eight years, but the feeling of successfully completing my viva, making those final changes, and the recognition I feel when discussing my research to various people reminds me of its importance. The special moment of my graduation. At my graduation my research title was read aloud, I was applauded, and then welcomed into the academic community onstage to be seated with fellow academics such as my supervisors. This was a special moment I will cherish and having family there was all the more memorable and precious. Whilst the PhD journey has come to an end, new opportunities arise, so keep an eye out in 2025 for further publications!
In addition, this year, I navigated my new job at the University of Northampton. In the 12 months I’ve been here I have learnt a lot from colleagues, from the faculty, and from other departments. Looking ahead, the road is one of change and adjustment, but I am optimistic and ready for whatever changes may come.
I wish everyone a wonderful and restful Christmas. Like myself, I hope you return in the New Year with renewed energy ready to tackle any new adventures with poise and determination. Remember to push yourselves to get to the best version of you!
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Starting a new school year
What makes university unique?
Unlike school, students make the choice to come to university. What’s more, it is often a student’s first-time experiencing independence from caregivers, e.g. outside the purview of their own parents. For many, this may mean learning how to shop, cook, budget, clean and take care of their own stuff. This is an entirely new series of decisions leading to the person you will become. Never shy away from seeking help, support and advice, and use every resource at hand, including and especially people.
Build relationships. You will undoubtedly be tempted to spend lots of time on your digital devices – alone – but this will most certainly lead you down a dark path towards isolation, loneliness and the false feeling of control. Instead, accept that you must fashion a new independent self. Who are you outside your caregivers/parent’s home? Put the phone down and give yourself a fighting chance to find out!
Find kinship beyond superficial similarities, and sow the seeds for happiness in your new environment. At our university, the biggest mistake I’ve consistently seen students make is failing to create community here. Often, for example, UK-based students are anxious to spend the weekend at home with their parents or school friends. International students may either indulge in regional tourism, indulge their homesickness, and/or only seek to build relationships within their own ethno-linguistic group. Again, this all feeds a false sense of control.
This mirrors my experiences at Hanoi University of Science and Technology, where I taught during my sabbatical year in Vietnam (see featured image). There, I had to not only learn from my students how to navigate the local environment, but crucially, learn local classroom norms from both them and colleagues so that I could teach more effectively.
With that said: Build relationships right here through the university community. Join a club, explore and develop your interests and cultivate support networks. These may overlap or be three different ventures. If you work, then find employment that anchors you here in Northampton. Use every job experience as A) An opportunity to improve your communication skills, and B) As building blocks towards your own goals.
Within the first few weeks of starting university 30 years ago, I met a student who quickly became my best friend. He came from a country I couldn’t have pointed out on a map, was from a different religion, and studied something far from my own interests. As our friendship blossomed, we easily discovered that we had far more in common than not, which in turn fed my own curiosity and confidence to get to know more about this planet we all call home. Even though he’s passed away, our friendship still sustains me to this day (Rest in Power, dear Numair).
On the mentor/disciple relationship between students and teachers
At university, there is no separation between staff/students, adults/youth like in school. Please find opportunities to develop mentor/mentee relationships with your tutors*. Find a tutor with whom you can share your new world and reflect upon your growth. Ask them exactly what excellence looks like in their classroom and on assessments so you can foster the right study skills.
Yes, find mentors and become one, too! Learn from others who are further along the journey you now tread. At the same time, find ways to work with youth to inspire those who follow your path. This not only develops your own confidence and communication skills, but collectively contributes to a vibrant university community.
As someone who has studied and practiced Buddhism my whole life, I am convinced that what we give, we get in return. Cultivate a spirit of generosity and feed your own open-mindedness. This support and tolerance will be returned to you ten-fold.
*hooks, bell (2003). Teaching Community: A pedagogy of hope. New York ; Routledge.
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HE and the curse of generative AI
A good part of the last academic year was spent debating the use of AI in Higher Education. Well, that’s what it felt like in our department. It became clear early on that some of our students had taken to using AI to generate their essays. Whilst we, as academics, debated its use, a number of issues became apparent. First and foremost was that of detecting its use in summative work. Despite the university guidelines about using AI and the need to reference its use, indicating where and how it had been used, students were producing work and passing it off as their own. Some of my colleagues were bothered about how its use could be detected, whereas others promoted its use and advocated teaching students how to use it. The arguments abound about how it might be used, not just to generate ideas but also to help improve grammar, for example. There are arguments about how it can help provide a literature review, saving time and effort. There are arguments about how it can help with essay structure and can help with that writer’s block, so many of us suffer from.
Whilst I understand its uses and understand my own limitations in knowledge and understanding about its many uses, I cannot but help thinking that somehow those that advocate its use have been blinded by the allure of something shiny and new. They will say they are just keeping up with technology, in the meantime, the tech giants are making a fortune and leading us further and further into a toxic dependency on technology which they in turn generate to quench our insatiable appetite. For those of you that remember, what was wrong with ‘Word 6’?
My stance seems to be somewhat simplistic on the matter, that is my stance on using generative AI in Higher Education to produce summative work in our field. It seems to me that the use of generative AI to produce summative work, bypasses all that Higher Education seeks to achieve. The British Society of Criminology provides a comprehensive menu of knowledge and skills that a student studying criminology should be able to boast at the end of their degree programme. We do our best to provide the building blocks for that achievement and test, using a variety of methods, whether the students have that knowledge and skills to the requisite standard. At the end of their studies, the students receive a certificate and a classification which indicate the level of skills and knowledge.
How then can we say that a student has the requisite knowledge and skills if they are allowed to use generative AI to produce their work? If a key skill is the ability to analyse and synthesise, how does an AI generated literature review assist with that skill? How will an AI generated essay format help the student navigate the vagaries of report writing and formatting in the workplace (different formats according to audience and needs)? How does a grammar check help the student learn if the words produced by the AI tool are not understood by the student; they won’t even know if it’s the correct word or tense or grammar that has been used. Often the mistake made by those advocating the use of AI is that they forget about how we learn. Having something produced for you is not learning, nowhere near it.
Even if a student acknowledges the use of AI in their work, what does that bit of work demonstrate about the student? Would we credit a student that had simply copied a large chunk from a book, or would we say that they needed to demonstrate how they can summarise that work and combine it with other pieces of work? In other words, would we want the student to produce something that is theirs?
There are tools for detecting the use of AI, just as there are tools for detecting plagiarism, the problem is that the former are not that reliable and are likely to produce a significant number of false positives. The consequence of the worries around the use of AI by students is that some of my colleagues, both at the university and the wider community are advocating that we return to exams and the like. I think that would be a retrograde step. We need students to be able to read, explore, and write so that they can demonstrate some quite critical skills. Skills that employers want.
Whilst it seems right that we show students how to use AI, we need to be clear about its limitations. More importantly we need to be clear that its use can be debilitating as much as it is useful. Not everything that is shiny and new is what it purports to be, good honest graft has far more value. There are no shortcuts to learning. If graduates are unable to demonstrate the requisite skills for a job, then their degree holds little value. I fear that many will be cursing the day they ever discovered generative AI.
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Embracing Technology in Education: Prof. Ejikeme’s Enduring Influence
Sallek Yaks Musa, PhD, FHEA
When I heard about the sudden demise of one of my professors, I was once again reminded of the briefness and vanity of life —a topic the professor would often highlight during his lectures. Last Saturday, Prof. Gray Goziem Ejikeme was laid to rest amidst tributes, sadness, and gratitude for his life and impact. He was not only an academic and scholar but also a father and leader whose work profoundly influenced many.
I have read numerous tributes to Prof. Ejikeme, each recognizing his passion, dedication, and relentless pursuit of excellence, exemplified by his progression in academia. From lecturer to numerous administrative roles, including Head of Department, Faculty Dean, Deputy Vice Chancellor, and Acting Vice Chancellor, his career was marked by significant achievements. This blog is a personal reflection on Prof. Ejikeme’s life and my encounters with him, first as his student and later as an academic colleague when I joined the University of Jos as a lecturer.
Across social media, in our graduating class group, and on other platforms, I have seen many tributes recognizing Prof. Ejikeme as a professional lecturer who motivated and encouraged students. During my undergraduate studies, in a context where students had limited voice compared to the ‘West,’ I once received a ‘D’ grade in a social psychology module led by Prof. Dissatisfied, I mustered the courage to meet him and discuss my case. The complaint was treated fairly, and the error rectified, reflecting his willingness to support students even when it wasn’t the norm. Although the grade didn’t change to what I initially hoped for, it improved significantly, teaching me the importance of listening to and supporting learners.
Prof. Ejikeme’s classes were always engaging and encouraging. His feedback and responses to students were exemplary, a sentiment echoed in numerous tributes from his students. One tribute by Salamat Abu stood out to me: “Rest well, Sir. My supervisor extraordinaire. His comment on my first draft of chapter one boosts my morale whenever I feel inadequate.”
My interaction with Prof. Ejikeme significantly shaped my teaching philosophy to be student-centered and supportive. Reflecting on his demise, I reaffirmed my commitment to being the kind of lecturer and supervisor who is approachable and supportive, both within and beyond the classroom and university environment.
Prof. Ejikeme made teaching enjoyable and was never shy about embracing technology in learning. At a time when smartphones were becoming more prevalent, he encouraged students to invest in laptops and the internet for educational purposes. Unlike other lecturers who found laptop use during lectures distracting, he actively promoted it, believing in its potential to enhance learning. His forward-thinking approach greatly benefited me and many others.
Building on Prof. Ejikeme’s vision, today’s educators can leverage advancements in technology, particularly Artificial Intelligence (AI), to further enhance educational experiences. AI can personalize learning by adapting to each student’s pace and style, providing tailored feedback and resources. It can also automate administrative tasks, allowing educators to focus more on teaching and student interaction. For instance, AI-driven tools can analyse student performance data to identify learning gaps, recommend personalized learning paths, and predict future performance, helping educators intervene proactively.
Moreover, AI can support academics in research by automating data analysis, generating insights from large datasets, and even assisting in literature reviews by quickly identifying relevant papers. By embracing AI, academics can not only improve their teaching practices but also enhance their research capabilities, ultimately contributing to a more efficient and effective educational environment.
Prof. Ejikeme’s willingness to embrace new technologies was ahead of his time, and it set a precedent for leveraging innovative tools to support and improve learning outcomes. His legacy continues as we incorporate AI and other advanced technologies into education, following his example of using technology to create a more engaging and supportive learning experience.
Over the past six months, I have dedicated significant time to reflecting on my teaching practices, positionality, and the influence of my role as an academic on learners. Prof. Ejikeme introduced me to several behavioural theories in social psychology, including role theory. I find role theory particularly crucial in developing into a supportive academic. To succeed, one must balance and ensure compatible role performance. For me, the golden rule is to ensure that our personal skills, privileges, dispositions, experiences from previous roles, motivations, and external factors do not undermine or negatively impact our role or overshadow our decisions.
So long, Professor GG Ejikeme. Your legacy lives on in the countless lives you touched.
Disclaimer: AI may have been used in this blog.
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Thank F**k it’s Easter!
A number of years ago I wrote a blog entitled: ‘Thank F**k it’s Christmas!’. In it, I had a general moan (nothing new there) about how exhausted the staff and students were in the first term of the new academic year: Christmas break felt desperately needed. At the time, I was still an Associate Lecturer but had just begun my MSc at Leicester as well as supporting my partner on the weekends. I felt burned out, overwhelmed, and ridiculously grateful that the Christmas break had arrived. I also commented on the importance and need for work-life balance for both staff and students, something which many of us have still not managed to achieve and something which appeared increasingly challenging during the various Lockdowns. Yes; a number of us have worked/studied from home, but that has blurred what used to be clear working hours (in theory), and home life. I honestly do not know where one ends and the other begins. Therefore, I find myself back in a head space which is screaming: ‘Thank F**k it’s Easter!’.
This term has been challenging, term 2 always is. We have navigated another lockdown, assessments, lectures, workshops, all sorts. Now, throw into the mix a cyber attack on the University and ‘Thank F**k it’s Easter’ rings louder. Staff and students have persevered in the name of education and demonstrated resilience. Something I think we should all be proud off. But the anxiety, frustrations and exasperation which the lack of IT services has generated, feels like it might take some time to overcome. I am cautious to advise us to consider work-life balance as we go into the Easter Break, as I fear I will sound hypocritical. I advised the need to take time to ourselves before, and to organise some kind of work-life balance, and in all fairness that went straight out the window once we returned from Christmas break (maybe a week of two after, I am sure I attempted a balance to begin with).
Nevertheless, I do think it is important to recognise our strengths, our achievements and to take time to breathe! For many of us, we have been without our families and friends for months. Lockdown is easing, and I am naively hopeful that this will mean we can see those who are dear to us again soon: safely and sensibly. But until we reach that point, I am also exceptionally grateful that the Easter weekend is upon us. Whether we celebrate the bringing of chocolate by the Easter Bunny, or the death and resurrection of Christ: we should all celebrate that we have made it to the end of term 2. Celebrate our achievements no matter how big or small, timetable some time to yourselves: read, run, drink gin, watch films, cross-stitch, do whatever brings you some kind of peace and most importantly: breathe. The University is closed from Friday 2nd April and re-opens on Wednesday 7th April. Lets all take some time for ourselves and breathe. Happy Easter Everyone!
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Helpfully unhelpful: The pathology of being too supportive
When I first arrived in London, I needed to find my way across the city to the now former site of the Home Office at St Anne’s Gate. I didn’t have a clue about how to get there so I asked a member of staff at St Pancras railway station. He helpfully pointed me in the direction of the London Underground. I was swept along by a torrent of people, all going about their business with a purpose, I however, didn’t have a clue where I was going. Finding sanctuary in a quiet eddy and desperately looking around I spotted a member of staff across the concourse. Fighting against the current I scrambled to where the member of staff was and implored upon them to rescue me. Thankfully the underground staff had all been briefed, not specifically about me, I should hasten to add, but about how by being super helpful they could increase customer satisfaction, reduce complaints and attract even more customers. And having explained my dilemma, I was very helpfully led through the ticket barriers, now struggling to hold back the surge, and down the escalator to the platform below. I was told to get on the next train and to get off at St James’ Park. Having arrived at my destination I became confused as to which exit to use and once again found a very helpful staff member who led me part way to the exit, where I spilled out into the sunlight a matter of yards away from my destination.
The following week I once again plunged into the torrent and confident that I knew which underground line to take I allowed myself to be swept along to the barriers and through, and then panic. Which platform and am I sure that was the right line? Once again, a beacon of hope shone across the dark morass, a member of underground staff. Once again, I was led to the platform in a super helpful way and got on the first train. But this time I didn’t arrive at my destination for some, I have to say, traumatic hours. The problem was the first train was not the train to catch, it was the second that I needed; I will most definitely have to complain about that member of staff being unhelpful.
This pattern of visits to London and assistance rendered by sometimes grumpy but always super helpful members of underground staff continued for some weeks. Often, I would stay in London for a week at a time before returning home outside of the metropolis at the weekend. During my stays I visited numerous police stations as part of my work and every time I used the underground, I sought out a helpful member of staff to assist me. Sometimes, if they rather unhelpfully simply pointed me in the right direction, I would set off and then return to them explaining that I didn’t understand their instructions. Armed with more information I would again purposefully set off and then duly return until the succumbed and rather reluctantly but helpfully led me to the correct platform.
Then in a fortnight, two things happened. Firstly, the underground staff went on strike and on arriving at the gates of St James’ Park underground station I found the gates closed. There were a couple of members of staff there, but they weren’t very helpful. ‘What should I’ do I asked, ‘Dunno’, was the reply. Now that was not very helpful, complaint forthcoming I feel. I didn’t make my appointments that day and the following day had to use taxis to get around. Much easier to use taxis you might say, yes but not really justifiable in terms of cost, my boss told me when I suggested I would forego using the underground altogether. After three days the underground opened up again but for some reason there were no staff around to ask for help. I became increasingly anxious and found myself avoiding the underground, using taxis at my own expense, and walking long distances. I was exhausted I can tell you.
The next week I ventured into the underground again, I couldn’t avoid it forever. I found a member of staff and duly asked them, in an almost ritualistic fashion, how to get across London to another underground station near yet another police station. Instead of pointing me in the right direction, which we all know by now is a rather fruitless, time wasting and unhelpful exercise, or super helpfully taking me to the correct platform, they took me to a rather large underground map on the wall. ‘This is where we are’, the very nice lady said, ‘and this is where you want to be’, she added. She then continued to explain how to use the map, how to follow the signs dotted around the stations, how to look for the signs before entering the platforms so as to work out which platform to be on and how to ensure I get on the correct train. I was nervous following her instructions as I made my way to the platform, but I got to my destination and I made my own way back, with help of the wall map of course. From that point onwards, I made my way around London on the underground with increased confidence, I wouldn’t say with consummate ease, but confidently. I made mistakes but because I knew how to read the map, I was able to rectify them and if I couldn’t I knew that I could ask. Of course, now that I drive, I use maps, I would probably have been pestering police officers and random members of the public otherwise and we know how the rare the sight of the former are on our streets. Anyway, I don’t think they’ve had the ‘super helpful’ briefing. Lately though I’ve been using my satnav, and sometimes getting into a right pickle. It seems you can’t beat good old-fashioned map reading.
What’s the point of this nonsensical tale? Well the clue is in the title. As educators we need to consider the purpose of what we are doing and how this will add value to students’ learning and knowledge. We can give students the answers to the essay questions, how to structure a particular essay, what arguments to include, what books and journal articles to read. We can supply them with reading lists that contain links to the books and journal articles, we can coach them to such an extent that their journey is in fact our journey, just as my journey to the underground platform was the staff member’s journey. We can repeat this many times over so that students are capable of completing that essay, but like me on my journey through the underground, they will need the same coaching for every piece of assessment and whilst they may complete each journey as I did, they have learnt very little and become increasingly disempowered and crippled by our helpfulness and their increasing reliance on it. Our jobs as educators is not to provide answers but to equip students with the tools to find the answers themselves. That process requires a willingness to learn, to discover and to take risks. Super helpfulness should not be an organisational strategy to ensure each part of the journey is easily manoeuvred and completed, it should be about ensuring that people can complete any journey independently and confidently. Sometimes by appearing to be super helpful we are simply being very unhelpful and disempowering people at the same time.
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Education, education, education: We’ve lost the plot
Some of you might remember Tony Blair’s speech introducing the Labour party’s education manifesto in 2001. In it he proclaimed that education was at the forefront of government policy. Education is often high on government’s agenda even if it is only to berate previous administrations for failing our youngsters. I have watched with interest the current government’s farcical approach to education and in particular the attainment of qualifications during the first period of Covid lockdown and to some extent even felt sorry for them as they grappled with what were not insignificant problems. My benevolence, however, has long been drained as I watch the news more recently only to see the same farce emerging. But what really intrigues me is the conflation of the notion of qualifications and education. It seems to me the clamber to get children back into school is only right given that they are missing out on education and other social aspects. However, I cannot see how the dealing with the qualifications issue can ignore the fact that the students have not received all of their education.
In a previous blog I have used the analogy of a driving instructor giving lessons to a pupil. In that blog the point being made was that the education of the pupil was a two-way enterprise. If the pupil didn’t engage or didn’t turn up for their lessons, then the instructor could not be held responsible for the pupil’s failure in the driving test. But what of the test itself, what is that designed to achieve? It is not simply to provide a person with a driving licence, what would be the point of that? It is to ensure that the person taking the test can drive to a satisfactory standard that would help ensure the roads were safe for all users. So, the point of the driving lessons is to provide the education in ‘road craft’ and the point of the driving test is to test knowledge and ability in that ‘road craft’ to ensure it meets satisfactory standards. The driving licence is a form of certificate that states the driver has achieved the knowledge and skills required.
So, what of education? Surely GCSEs, A levels, BTec and so on are a test of the knowledge and skills acquired. A degree is the same, is it not? How then could we reasonably expect students to pass any of these tests if they have lost significant periods of tutorship or teaching? The suggestion, dumb down the tests in some way by only testing what they have been taught, or as in the case of university students suggestions, be more lenient with the marking. Now as I understand it, that would be akin to saying to a learner driver that because through no fault of their own, they could not engage in all of their lessons, they will only be tested on their ability to park and not on their ability to carry out an emergency stop as they hadn’t been taught the latter. How ridiculous would that be? Imagine then that the very same driver, who now has a driving licence, goes onto some advanced motoring course. A course that starts with the premise that they have all the skills tested in a ‘full’ driving test.
Whilst, I can understand students’ preoccupation with tests and qualifications, I somehow think that government and teaching establishments should be more concerned with education and the knowledge gap. How will they ensure that students have the requisite skills and knowledge? Tony Blair may have said ‘Education, Education, Education’ and subsequent governments might well nod in agreement, but somehow I think they’ve all lost the plot.
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Technology and Learning: A baby and the bathwater moment
I recently shared some thoughts about the problems with technology and working from home. I suppose the nub of the matter was twofold firstly, if I have problems with technology, why would this not also impact some of my colleagues and students, thus limiting what can be delivered online. Secondly, whatever is delivered online does not suit everyone and whilst as educators we need to adapt to circumstances and new ways of working, we should be cognisant that simply imposing the new ways on students does not always suit what they want or more importantly, what they need. If we acknowledge that everyone learns in different ways at different times, then a one size fits all approach is not delivering anything like a premium learning environment.
In writing my previous blog, I also started to think about how difficult it is to be motivated whilst working from home and how my experiences have at least partially prepared me for this. I say partially because past experiences did not encompass being in lockdown.
When I was 15, I returned from overseas and went to the local college to study for my ‘O’ levels (GCSE now) rather than a school. It was far more relaxed in respect of attending classes. This was a time when at 16 people could leave school, so the college was full of students who were 16 and essentially independent from the school regime. I turned 16 whilst at college. I remember not going to every class, sometimes perhaps because I preferred to spend time playing football in the sunshine and at other times because there was some casual work somewhere that would earn me a bit of money. There were no distractions such as computers and mobile phones so actually attending college was in the main better than being bored outside of it. That was one incentive to engage in my education, I had others such as friends being at college but probably above all I recognised I needed some qualifications. I think my parents might also have been a little peeved if I’d not done anything. I had a structure to my life and a major part of it was getting up in the morning and attending college on my bicycle; rain or shine, for the most part I was there.
At an early point in my policing career, I decided I would like to take the promotion exam to sergeant. An annual exam which incorporated, as I recall, three two-hour papers, one relating to crime, one traffic and one general police duties. An awful lot of legislation and procedure was to be tested and all of it could be found in the regularly updated promotion manual. A tome, if ever there was one, divided into various sections that covered everything a would-be sergeant needed to know and in addition, legislation for the inspector’s exam. Years went by with well intentioned attempts to study, followed by a lack of action. I just couldn’t get my head round how to do this, despite trying to answer the questions in the promotion section of the Police Review magazine.
I can’t remember exactly when it was but there was an announcement that the promotion process was to change, the exam which gave you a ticket to a promotion board, was to be replaced with an assessment centre. This new way involved not only an exam, but scenario based assessments. That year I decided I really needed to pass the promotion exam to avoid the new process, so I purchased access to a correspondence course. It wasn’t cheap, and it was before computers as we know them. I received a plethora of books each divided up into various chapters and each requiring me to answer questions that were then sent by mail to someone to mark and provide feedback. What this required was organisation and commitment. I was lucky, I was working in a very disciplined job, organisation and commitment were to some extent, if I set my mind to it, second nature. And two added incentives, an easier passage to promotion as I saw it, and I’d paid out a lot of money that I wasn’t going to waste. That year I passed the sergeants and the inspector’s exam, two in the bank although it was still some time before I was promoted.
When I embarked on my degree, I had to apply the same self-discipline. Despite it being part-time, attendance for lectures and seminars was difficult, there was no way I could attend everything whilst doing shift work, but I tried my best. I even had to take time out because I was involved in a major investigation that took me away from home for 6 months. By this time, I had a very young family, so every assignment was a challenge to complete and there was no online Google access to papers and blogs and the like. It was library based work, sometimes the university library, other times local libraries and often late nights in the office at work. What it needed was self-discipline, commitment and a structure to each day, well as best as possible given the demands of shift work, major enquiries and long working hours. Every time I faltered I reminded myself that I’d done a lot of work, put a lot into this and I wasn’t about to throw all of that away.
When I embarked on my Ph.D. my commitment and self-discipline was sorely tested at times. Tragedy and life altering events pushed me to the limits, but I managed to maintain that commitment and self-discipline, sometimes aided by others at work who tried to make things a little easier. The office at work provided space for both my day job and my Ph.D. The two morphing into one at times.
Why tell you all of this, well its simply this. I ask myself what makes a student engage in their course and more importantly, what inhibits them? Firstly, they need self-discipline. When I went to college, there were a number of things that ensured I would turn up; my parents wouldn’t have countenanced my staying in bed or around the house all day; day time telly was rubbish (only three channels) and there wasn’t an awful lot else to do. My friends were either at school, at college or working and there were no mobile phones, so contact was either at college or in the evenings and weekends. Learning could only be done at college, no recorded lectures or Collaborate or e-books. I also recognised I needed qualifications to get on in life.
When I embarked on my promotion exams I recognised the need to have a structure to my learning. This was partly provided by the correspondence course and the way it was set up and partly provided by discipline I learnt in my work. It did though need a structure provided by the course and an incentive to do it at that moment in time.
My degree also needed self-discipline, nobody chased me to turn up and nobody chased me for assignments. Not being there, meant missing out on discussions and learning from other students, not just the lecturers. I’d paid for this as well so another incentive to succeed, this was not some loan to be possibly paid in the future, this was real money, my money up front. And the more I did the more determined I became that I wasn’t going to waste my efforts.
Anyone will tell you that a Ph.D. is challenging and that for the most part, the achievement is not about knowledge or brilliance but about gritted determination to complete it. That determination requires self-discipline and that self-discipline for me was aided by tagging the Ph.D. onto my job. My office at work was my sanctuary, it was easier to stop working on one thing and then seamlessly move onto writing up the Ph.D. I had a structure to my studying and my work.
So, I begin to wonder, do recorded lectures, Collaborate, ebooks, the internet, social media and a plethora of other advances really help students? Why get up in the morning to attend lectures if you can watch a recorded version of it later, ‘a must get round to it moment’? Why bother to go to the library when you can Google stuff and read, well at least skim’ e-books? Why bother with classes when you can chat with your mates and so called ‘friends’ on Facebook or the plethora of other social media apps. There is no financial incentive when the payment for the course is made on your behalf and whilst you have a massive debt on paper, the reality is that you will never pay it back (If you don’t believe me, have a look at the Martin Lewis website). There are no parents to get you up in the morning or to scorn your lethargy, at worst any failure will be chided sometime in the misty future. All that students can rely on is self-discipline and their own belief in commitment. A hard ask when you don’t have all the anchors you had at school and college. I was lucky, I grew up in an era of much fewer distractions. I was employed in a job that required a high degree of disciple, so self-discipline was much easier. I was also a mature student so could call on a vast amount of experience.
I’ll leave you with a thought. The year 1840 saw the introduction of the first stamp, the Penny Black. Despite the advent of emails, texts and the internet, nearly two hundred years later, Royal Mail are still delivering letters and packages. Whilst you can get your bank statements online, you can still have paper copies. Whilst you can read books on Kindle and other contraptions, book stores still exist, and hard copy books are still sold by the millions. Whilst, music can now be delivered in so many different electronic formats, there is still a clamour for vinyl records. Whilst films are available at home in so many different ways, people still go to see films at the cinema.
Technology is wonderful and is a great enabler in so many ways. That doesn’t give us licence though to ignore the value of what by some may be seen as ‘old fashioned, stick in the mud’ structures, processes and transactions. Sometimes things are the way they are for a reason, change them and there are at times problematic unintended consequences. Making changes through the use of technology and ignoring tried and trusted methods might actually be akin to ‘throwing out the baby with the bathwater’.
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Teaching, Technology, and reality
I’m not a fan of technology used for communication for the most part, I’d rather do things face to face. But, I have to admit that at this time of enforced lockdown technology has been to a large extent our saviour. It is a case of needs must and if we want to engage with students at all, we have to use technology and if we want to communicate with the outside world, well in the main, its technology.
However, this is forced upon us, it is not a choice. Why raise this, well let me tell you about my experiences of using technology and being shut at home! Most, if not all my problems, probably relate to broadband. It keeps dropping out, sometimes I don’t notice, that is until I go to save my work or try to add the final comment to my marking. I know other colleagues have had the same problem. Try marking on Turnitin only to find that nearly all of your feedback has just disappeared in a flash. Try talking to colleagues on Webex and watch some of them disappearing and reappearing. Sometimes you can hear them, sometimes you can’t. And isn’t it funny when there is a time lag, a Two Ronnies moment when the question before the last is answered. ‘You go, no you go’, we say as we all talk over each other because the social cues relied on in face to face meetings just aren’t there. I’ve tried discussion boards with students, it’s not like WhatsApp or Messenger or even text. It is far more staid than that. Some students take part, but most don’t and that in a module where attendance in class before the shutdown was running at over seventy per cent. I’m lucky to get 20% involved in the discussion board. Colleagues using Collaborate tell me a similar tale, a tale of woe where only a few students, if any appear. Six hours of emptiness, thumb twiddling and reading, that’s the lecturer, not the students.
Now I don’t know whether my problems with the internet are resultant of the increased usage across the country, or just in my area. I suspect not because I had problems before the lockdown. I live in a village and whilst my broadband package promises me, and delivers brilliant broadband speed at times, it is inconsistent, frequently inexplicably dropping out for a minute or two. It is frustrating at times, even demoralising. I have a very good laptop (supplied by the university) and it is hardwired in, so not reliant on Wi-Fi, but it makes little difference. I suspect the problems could be anywhere in the broadband ether. It could be at the other end, the university, it could be at Turnitin for instance or maybe its somewhere in a black hole in the middle. Who knows, and I increasingly think, who cares? When my broadband disappeared for a whole day, a colleague suggested that I could tether my phone. A brilliant idea I thought as our discussion became distorted and it sounded like he was talking to me from a goldfish bowl. I guess the satellite overhead moved and my signal gradually disappeared. I can tell you now that my mobile phone operator is the only one that provides decent coverage in my area. Tethered to a goldfish bowl, probably not a solution, but thanks anyway.
If I suffer from IT issues, then what about students? We are assured that those that live on campus have brilliant Wi-Fi but does this represent the majority of our student body? Not usually and certainly not now. Do they all have good laptops; do they all have a decent Wi-Fi package? I hazard a guess, probably not. But even if what they have is on par with what I have available to me could they not also be encumbered with the same problems? We push technology as the way forward in education but don’t bother to ask the end user about their experience in using it. I can tell you from student feedback that many don’t like Collaborate, find the discussion boards difficult to engage with and some are completely demotivated if they cannot attend physical classes. That’s not to say that all students feel this way, some like recorded lectures as it gives them the opportunity to watch it at their leisure, but many don’t take that final step of actually watching it. They intend to, but don’t for whatever reason. Some like the fact that they can get books electronically, but many don’t, preferring to read from a hard copy. Even browsing the shelves in the library has for some, a mystical pleasure.
I’ll go back to the beginning, technology has undoubtedly been our saviour at this time of lockdown, but wouldn’t it be a real opportunity to think about teaching and technology after this enforced lockdown? Instead of assuming all students are technology savvy or indeed, want to engage with technology regardless of what it is, should we not ask them what works for them. Instead of telling staff what they can do with technology, e.g. you can even remotely mark students’ work on a Caribbean island, should we not ask staff what works? Let’s change the negative narrative, “you’re not engaging with technology”, to the positive what works in teaching our students and how might technology help in that. Note I say our students, not other students at other universities or some pseudo student in a theoretical vacuum. We should simply be asking what is best for our students and a starting point might be to ask them and those that actually teach them.
Thoughts from the criminology team 