I did… what?

Last year I set an assignment where I asked students to reflect on their semester of assignments and tell me about their software development process. As I believe I’ve already mentioned, the assignment was answered with thoughtful and generally well written answers. One student’s response stood out and I reproduce it, anonymously and in part, here:

“I assessed the difficulty of the pracs each week by reading through the instructions and taking a guess [at] how difficult it would be and how long it would take. I was actually pretty accurate with these guesses (except for a few unforseen bugs that didn’t set me back much). I even did an okay job assessing the time it would take me to do the library prac. And then I ignored that assessment and skimped on the design and didn’t start it until a few days before it was due. [My bolding] I’m not entirely sure what I was thinking there, I was probably just dreading the prospect of doing such a large prac.”

I find this comment fascinating because we are currently listening to one of the top students of the class going through a thought process that is, effectively, “I did… what?” The library prac was the hardest programming assignment of the semester. Two weeks duration rather than one, complex dependencies, detailed design required to get it right and an assignment where your testing framework was either good enough or next to useless. We’d spent a lot of time building up their coding muscles to handle this but, obviously, we’ve still got a way to go.

One of the best students, who actually scoped the problem properly, looked at the task, worked out what was required – and didn’t do it. In the same assignment where this quote comes from was a question “If you could give one piece of advice to a student starting [this course] next semester, who wants to do well in the [coding assignments], what would it be?” The student in question made a lot of good comments, as he wrestled with the question and tried to pick the best piece of advice.

“Good design (or in fact any design) reduces the chances of making mistakes and creating bugs to begin with, but breaking up code and testing it bit by bit catches the bugs early, before they become a big problem and are harder to find and fix.”

Again, his awareness of his own mistakes appears to be driving his thinking and his writing. He’s move on beyond the “I did… what?” and is now finishing that phrase with “but this is how I’ll avoid doing it again!” He’s explaining to his peers how, from a similar basis, he made mistakes but he’s making fewer now and this is something that they can learn. Yes, he didn’t explicitly address the fear issue that he raises as a possibility, but he does advocate divide-and-conquer, one of the best techniques for conquering something large and scary, so I think he’s addressing the issue anyway.

There’s nothing intrinsically wrong with someone staring aghast at their early coding errors, as long as it’s quickly accompanied by a well-learnt lesson, a scribbled reminder and a silent promise to catch it next time before it becomes a problem!


Ready to roll (or teach)

Yesterday I mentioned CS Unplugged. Today I’m helping out, somewhat last minute, at a CS Unplugged event that I didn’t even know about yesterday! Perhaps I should write a post about “Nick gets lots of free money given to him” and keep my fingers crossed?

This does actually segue into something semi-useful and blogworthy in that my general principle in my career is “always be ready to seize a new opportunity”. I stick my hand up for a lot of things but I never stick my hand up if I don’t think that I would do a good job. The price to pay here is that you must always know what you can do, what you have time to do and, harder, have a good enough vision of the future to have the right skills.

I don’t pretend to be an expert here but I have a short list of things that I do that help me to do this:

  1. I prepare myself for the idea that opportunities could come along and think about how and why I should accept them.
  2. I talk to lots of people. I attend events, talk shop, listen, contribute, write several blogs, read just about everything I get sent, send a lot of things on and, generally, try and stay as connected as possible. Why? Because then I know what is happening in my own discipline, in my own Uni and in my own country. Very few announcements are surprises to me because the (much more informed) people I’ve been speaking to have seen it in the wind and suggested it as a possibility. Other people think that I may be able to help them, which means that they may get in touch with me later.
  3. I write down my ideas and what it would take to make them happen. When I have a good idea, I generally discuss it or write it up as a possible funding opportunity – or just sketch out a plan for it. If you came to me tomorrow and said “Nick, I have 10K/30K/100K/1M for a project” I can have an outline to you in about 10 minutes. Wow, that seems a bit… creepy. Why are you planning for money you don’t have? Aha, it’s because…
  4. I have a long term focus. Research this year turns into papers next year turns into grant applications the year after that. Teaching plans for next year have to start now. I don’t naturally have a long term focus! I like to work day-to-day like normal people but I kept finding that I ran out of time because I never really knew what to do next. I referred before to the joys of the pipeline and admitted that I’m naturally not good at this. But that leads me to point 4.
  5. Not being good at something isn’t an excuse. It’s not an excuse for our students (there’s a lot of difference between ‘not enough practice’ and ‘zero aptitude’) so it’s not an excuse for us. This is especially true if it’s part of the job. It’s a hard job. It’s a great job. It’s being responsible for the provision of knowledge to the next generation of scientists, teachers, educators, people, parents, children – it’s the whole human race that we’re working with here. Not being good at something is an opportunity to get better.
  6. I work out when I should say no. I am a hopeless overcommitter but I have now reached a level where I can’t fit any more in so I say ‘No’ more often. I have no kids and my wife is another academic so she has the same time pressures – I have a great deal of time flexibility at home. But I still need to hang out, relax, eat and sleep or I will go mad.  But some things are time critical. While I was writing this a mail came in asking if I could have something (that didn’t have a solid deadline) ready in a week. I thought about it and decided to say ‘Yes’. If I work on this tonight, I can do it. It’s definitely worth it to do this and I want to do this project so I can spend a couple of hours in front of the computer instead of watching Doctor Who re-runs. It’s a delicate balancing act but some of the best opportunities have no initial load or money associated with them – they are overtime eaters until they pay off. If they pay off…
  7. Not everything pays off but take enough opportunities and one probably will. This is the big one so I’ll finish with it. The more things you try (which you have any chance at success with) the more likely you are to succeed. This is often demoralising, time consuming and, until something does pay off, it often makes you feel that you’re wasting your time. Look at this blog. It’s eating at least half an hour a day and for what? This has no pay off associated with it!

    Or does it?

    Well, it does. It forces me to focus for at least one part of a day that could be filled with admin and research on my teaching! On thinking about how I teach, how I learn, how I think my students learn and what I want to share with the world on this. Every post I write makes me a better writer. Gives me more ideas. Focuses me on teaching as I lead back in to first semester. No-one’s going to give me any cash for this, or load relief, and none of my jobs require this – but working here helps me think about how to manage other opportunities. Something here may one day head off into a seed grant idea. Some of your feedback may make me think about things in a different way.

    Working on this blog prepares me for other opportunities and makes me open to share and receive new knowledge. It’s like a workout for my opportunity muscle.

What do you think? What are the best ways to prepare for an opportunity?

 


Teaching without technology: CS Unplugged

“Computer science is no more about computers than astronomy is about telescopes.” Edsger Dijkstra

Here we are, in a school with no electricity, and no computers, trying to teach ICT. I get Charles to ask the class how many of them have seen a computer. (Answer: about a third). Then I get him to ask them how many have used a computer. Answer – none. They laugh nervously at the very thought that any of them might have had a chance to use a machine.Bruce’s Rwanderings: the ups and downs of life as an education adviser in Rwanda.

There are some really interesting and clever projects that deal with teaching parts of information and communications technology without using any technology. You may have heard of the CS Unplugged website. If not, check it out because it has a whole lot of fun and interesting CS projects that don’t require a computer or any other supporting technology. Well, ok, some projects do require string. I’ll concede the point.

CS Unplugged Logo

It always bothers me when I end up doing something that has an implicit price barrier on it. There’s a world of difference between “not having enough knowledge to proceed” and “not having the resources to even be able to get to the knowledge, so don’t proceed”. I don’t want to set up a resource constraint that limits my students to “only those people who can afford technology x”. What I often forget is the level of privilege that I enjoy which gives me a choice of technologies in the first place. That’s why things like CS unplugged are great because they remind you that Computer Science is often implemented on computers but, as the quote implies, they’re just tools. Knowledge can be transferred in many ways and the lessons learned through enjoyable activities away from the computer can be more meaningful and far less confrontational than staring at the vast unfriendliness of a blank screen.

CS unplugged is active, it doesn’t need a big box of computers, it can be done anywhere, it works when the power is out. It’s free. A lot of the activities are what I refer to as contagious knowledge – you show someone, they like it, they someone else. It’s like an amusing picture of cats with a caption in Impact, except, well, useful.

CS Unplugged parity trick postcard showing 36 cards and someone 'guessing' the flipped card.

Every so often, rarely these days, a student transfers in who has a degree from a place where they studied Computer Science without any computers at all. There wasn’t one in the school or, if there was, it was so valuable that the students weren’t allowed near it! It’s obvious when another teacher has taken the wrong approach: depending on memorisation of algorithms or characteristics as an indication of knowledge, rather than trying to come up with techniques to apply and extend knowledge. Why didn’t the previous teacher do something better? The science of computation and algorithms should always be more than just a tool course.

But that is so easy for me to say, with all of the resources that I have. It’s ignorant and arrogant for me to try and apply intention to the outcomes that I perceive. The right thing for me to do is, as always, think “How can I fix this?”  Increasing knowledge reduces ignorance. How can I help people who may not have access to some of the resources I take for granted?

How did I find out about CS Unplugged? Someone told me about it, then explained how it was being used in places like small schools, or in underfunded districts, or where student numbers had grown but labs hadn’t, or where people thought that it was a great way to teach Computer Science without having to worry about “Ok, now right click on the third tile on the left hand side of the second screen.” Imagine that, teaching CS without having to worry about whether all the logins have been created, the network is up, if all the patches have been applied. Teaching CS without wondering who is secretly Facebooking or IMing in the middle of your lessons.

As always, this approach is part of your tool box. You look at the problem, think about it and then pull out an appropriate tool. Sometimes, of course, we have to wander off and forge a new tool – exciting, arduous and rewarding all at the same time. If you haven’t heard about CS Unplugged, welcome to a new tool. If you have, but you haven’t used it, maybe it’s time to trot it out somewhere to see how it could work for you. If you like it, pass it on!

 


Fiero! The joy that makes you want to punch the air.

After a fun couple of hours writing the previous post, I’ve decided to hunker down and read some more books on data visualisation. However, I wanted to update you on my Summer Research Scholarship student – the one who was developing the game. Well, he demo’d the basic computerised version on Friday and, simply, it works, it’s fun, and he’s got a simple text display going. Next week it’s GUI + networking design and build, then two more weeks of coding and wrapping it up for week 6 with API documentation, extensible framework and a plan for porting it to Android and iPhone.

Let me remind you that he started two weeks ago, was given some books, a brief, and a lot of access to me and my time, as well as my planning skills and overall management. In that time, he has learnt about an entirely new way of presenting information, come up with six ideas, found the best one and chased it with an amazing passion. In two weeks he has a simple working game that could be played right now. The more I work with students, the more I realise that my fears about what they can’t achieve often become constraints on what I allow them to achieve. I (implicitly or explicitly) tell people that This is enough when it sets a false level of achievement for the struggling and it bores the gifted. Yes, there are varying levels of ability and we must educate all of our students, but I’ve seen so many people soar when I’ve given them open skies and a jet pack, that I can spend the time to help those who are still walking, or have fallen once or twice. My belief is that most, if not all, will fly one day. If I don’t believe that, then what am I doing?

It’s the weekend and I’m blogging this because I want you to know how much we can do, as educators, as people, as mentors and, sometimes, as the ones who stand back and let people try. We have to build our world in a way that it’s possible to fly but it’s not fatal to fall.

It’s an enormous challenge and I love it. Fiero is a word that we use for that feeling of achievement and joy that makes you raise your fists into the air and punch out to the sky because you can’t contain how good you feel. My student had such a moment when he worked out one of the core design issues that turned his game from dull to fun. He told me about it, using terminology he’d picked up on this project to describe that joy. Now, I have that feeling because I think that good things are happen. What more can any of us ask for in our jobs, once the mundane issues are settled?

Have a great weekend! Find the joy! Punch the air!


Your cheating heart will do you wrong

One of the most unpleasant things I have to do is dealing with students who cheat. We have a pretty thorough and fair process for handling this and, most of the time, we catch someone once for basically being lazy or stupid, they lose the marks for the assignment and they never do it again. Even so, the number of people who write “this lecturer is the worst person in the Universe” on their end-of-semester assessment forms is generally the same number of people as I caught cheating – it has an impact on both of us.

When I see someone again, or someone comes up for a second or third offence, that’s sad. It’s sad for so many reasons. It’s sad because, this time, they risk a penalty of getting zero for the course. Or getting kicked out of Uni. It’s sad because they haven’t taken in what I was telling them about knowledge being more important than cramming or copying. But, for me, it’s sad because now I feel that I’ve failed the student. Somewhere along the line, they got the message that 75/100 cheating is somehow better than 50/100 fairly earned.

That a pass by any means is better than a fail.

Of course, pragmatically, it is. Student are paying, directly or indirectly, to study and they want to be in the workforce as soon as they can, with the best marks possible. But what that means is all those talks on ethics, on professional practice, on honesty, on integrity, have missed these students entirely. Students aren’t buying a degree, they have an opportunity to earn a degree. (Ideally, I’d like everyone to have the opportunity to go to the college and course of their choice. Real world factors jump on my head really quickly there.)

Even if a student sneaks through with undetected cheating, they still have a problem, because their lack of knowledge will probably get found out once they hit the job market. They may get one job, or two, but once it becomes obvious that they don’t know what they’re supposed to, people’s estimation of them will drop. People’s ideas of what our degrees our and what our school does will drop. Everyone loses.

I’m up front about my dislike of cheating. But I’m also fair in my reaction. When it’s dealt with, that’s it. Records leave me to go elsewhere and I try my hardest to forget the details so that I don’t stare at that student for the rest of their time and wonder what they’re doing. Give me 6 months and I’ve achieved it. The student is back in the pack and, if it doesn’t happen again, it never gets mentioned again. It’s a trap to immediately scrutinise everything as if the student is cheating again. Has action been taken? Yes? Is it over? Yes? Move on. Ok, they might do it again but that’s what you have Turnitin and MOSS for. If they do it again then, yes, it may be systematic and more action has to be taken but, while cheating is not anything that should be condoned or excused, I can almost understand why a confused, rushed 17-year old might thing it was not the worst idea in the world to save themselves some effort.

But it is the worst idea in the world, because it can damage the learner-teacher relationship and risk a student’s entire career. In a harsh school, it can be an inescapable sentence for the rest of someone’s career.

This is a G-rated blog, so I can’t tell the joke about “I kiss one goat” here but those of you who know the joke know that the punchline is that the teller is a man of great merit, has done many things, but he kissed one goat and he is henceforth known as Henri the Goat Kisser. So, yes, I don’t like cheating, and I wish people would stop, but I try not to categorise someone by actions that they may only take once in their life, and regret for the rest of it, because part of my job is making new and better people. Well, that’s over-stating it really. Part of my job is helping people to make themselves new and better.

When I’m teaching, I’m often thinking about how I can structure assignments to reduce the temptation and opportunity to cheat. I think about how I can make students interested enough to take part, to be involved – this often involves other students, using neighbour techniques. But, when cheating happens, I try to be as understanding as I can – while still having a firm line that cheating doesn’t fly here. It’s hard and I welcome comments from other people who’ve had to deal with this.


I’m giving you positive feedback, you idiots.

When I posted my last message, I had, without realising it, posted 20 messages. WordPress gives you positive visual reinforcement when you hit certain milestones, which many of you will know. You also get little quotes along the way. Here is an example of what I would consider to be questionable positive feedback.

A quote from Truman Capote "That isn't writing at all, it's typing", accompanying the 'reward' message for reaching 20 posts.

Look at all of the positive imagery there: “Goal completed”, “Congratulations”, a big green line that is completed and a gold star!

And then look at the quote. For those who don’t know, that was Capote’s response to Kerouac’s production of “On The Road”, which was written up in a very short time on a giant roll of paper that Kerouac assembled so that he could just keep typing without having to change paper. Now, I know this quote and I’ve even embraced this quote for my personal (art/writing) blog which has the title “This Is Not Art, This Is Typing”. I’ve embraced it for projects such as NaNoWriDay – 50,000 words in 24 hours, which I did for charity. I’m (strangely) proud of my ability to write quickly.

But this response took the wind out of my sails a bit. I’d been mostly ignoring the ‘goal’ messages because I schedule my posts for publication, rather than hitting publish immediately, and this means that I haven’t seen one for a while. I happened to hit the update and got this – my initial thought of “wow, 20 posts, I’m sticking to my plan” was a nice bit of positive reinforcement.

But what is that quote doing there? The automated system has counted my posts and thinks this is the best thing that should come up? Is it a joke? Is it supposed to be a gentle ribbing or something?

I pretty much write for a living. I’m used to people criticising my work. I guarantee you that someone is going to be ruder than this to me today – and it will be personal, rather than just randomly allocated. Imagine what happened if someone had spent a year pouring their heart out into their blog and, on post 20, *ding* well, ok, 20 posts, but, just so you know, it was all just typing.

Now my point here is not that I’m under psychic assault but it is a fantastic example of how, with the best intentions, one careless piece of assembly can completely undermine everything that you’ve tried to achieve with well-designed courseware and attractive, positive messages.

I would suggest that the Capote quote should never show up on WordPress. To be frank, the quote has never really contributed anything anyway – just another Capote quote, somewhat clever, very snide, generally nasty. It’s the kind of thing people say when they want to diminish the value of what you’ve done. In the education business, we do not get paid to make people feel bad about how much smarter we are than they.

Sadly, too many educators still take that path. We’re dealing with forming minds – intellectual embryos – we have to choose our words carefully, our materials even more carefully and always be aware that accidental juxtaposition risks being seen as deliberate when people are sensitive or looking for reasons to doubt themselves.

This quote, which I know and I’ve integrated into other places, in this context, made me question the value of what I’m doing here. It’s a valuable reminder of the power of reinforcement and feedback – positive and negative.

 

 


Can you read what I see?

I’m going to touch on an area that I don’t have a great deal of experience with but that I’ve thought about a lot: making teaching material available to students who are visually challenged. My terminology here is important because I don’t want to ‘deal with’ these students, mainly because I think that it sets my mind into the wrong framework. You ‘deal with’ parking tickets. You ‘deal with’ onerous problems. What I want to do is to make teaching material available to everyone but, if I’m using a visual focus, I have to consider alternative delivery mechanisms for people who don’t have that capability.

(I should note that, when I first wrote that paragraph, autocorrect decided that I wanted to make material available to students who were visually challengING. Proof reading is really your friend, sometimes.)

Let’s talk about one of the first issues you might encounter: people who are, to some degree, colour-blind. How many people do you think are colour-blind?

1 in a million?

1 in a thousand?

1 in a hundred?

8 in a 100 men are colourblind, compared to 1 in 200 women. Get 64 men in a class, you are 99% likely to have someone who is colour-blind. Most of these people will have red/green discrimination issues. The most extreme will see no colour at all.

So how do we deal with that? Well, a number of products have modes that allow you to simulate colour-blindness to see what your work will look like. Turn off the colour or print it in black and white – how easy is it to discriminate based on the contrast of the work stripped of colour. Given those numbers, you may have a friend or colleague who can look at your work and tell you how it works for them.

Does this mean that you can’t use colour? No! What it means is that you can’t depend upon colour alone for contrast and separation. Do you have a complicated pie chart with 27 segments, using colour to separate them. (Firstly, why? Too much fine detail can distract people from your core point.) What happens if you outline the segments in black and switch off the colour? Does it look like a bicycle wheel? In motion?

Colour as a highlight or attention grabber will work for the vast majority of the population. It is, however, always helpful to think about those 8 in a 100 who will not get your message if you have depended too much upon colour contrast or a particular shade mix. (As always, keep trying, find what works, learn, evolve, start over from step 1!)

The more severely visually impaired, where part of the field of vision is lost, will have different techniques for managing things. Some will need pre-printed blown-up notes. Some will use telescopes. In my experience, most people are very straight forward about their requirements.

The one challenge, I find, is where I have a diagram that I wish to explain to someone who has no sight or has never had any sight. There’s my L&T diagram on the first and second posts of this blog (Jan 1 and 2). The text for this should be:

“A diagram showing the relationship between learning, teaching and the flow of knowledge. Two circles are placed, horizontally, so that they overlap with a small intersection. The left-most circle contains a capital L character, the intersection contains an ampersand character and the right-most circle contains a capital R character. Lines with arrows on their ends are placed around the diagram to indicate information flow. Two arrows, starting from outside the left most circle, pierce the left-most circle’s left boundary, terminating inside, with their arrow heads pointing towards the intersection to indicate the knowledge flows into the Learner. A similar pair of arrows start inside the right most circle and cross the boundary, with the arrow heads outside and pointing away from the intersection to indicate that the flow of knowledge is from the Teacher to the teacher’s environment.”

Now, even then, I’m not all that happy with this description. I don’t know what it is to not have any visual information – does right most or left most make any sense? Should I be more abstract? Am I depending too much on visual cues, still?

However, thinking about it makes me think about what my diagram stands for, how I would explain it and, to be honest, any description is better than none if it’s honest and accurate.

As always, don’t make this an excuse NOT to try this out. Think of this as one more small piece of information that can make it easier when you do decide to give it a try.

If you happen to have personal experience on this, from addressing this or living this, please throw in a comment. I’d love to hear from you, even if you are going to tell me that I’ve got it all wrong – it’s the only way I’m going to learn.


Who told you that you couldn’t?

One thing I often encounter when talking to people about designing teaching materials is that a lot of highly-qualified, sensible, smart and otherwise perfectly reasonable educators are adamant that, somehow, even a skerrick of visual design is beyond them. There are lots of good reasons why certain approaches work in certain areas, and, to be honest, sometimes black on white and simple is the way to go (like here), but I sometimes sense a resistance. This always makes me wonder “who told you that you couldn’t do this”, and then, almost immediately, “and why are you still listening to them?”

We are an amazing species. We live in so many different places, adapt so quickly and are very, very hard to stop. But, somehow, after you’ve made it through a degree or two, teaching qualifications, maybe a PhD (or two, you keen devil, you), secured a teaching spot and managed enough time to read this rant… you can’t sit back for five minutes and see which colours, typefaces and layouts make the key points stand out in your presentations?

I was having lunch with a friend and was ranting on about design, I am so much fun to have lunch with, and when I said that I thought it was an important thing for everyone to think about, he said “We can’t do everything.”

I completely agree to an extent – if we never try anything, we certainly can’t achieve it. Of course, there are degrees of all of this. Much in the same way that my oil paintings are more likely to serve as paintball targets than hang in National Galleries, there are people who have more or less talent in using visual representation to present knowledge. But zero ability? I think that there are surprisingly few of those.

But this is where you support network comes in. They aren’t a cheer squad – if something is bad they should tell you. If something is bad, and someone tells you, then you either fix it or remove it. But if something is good, or has any merit, then these external voices can help you to overcome that whole “I’m a scientist, not a graphic designer, Jim!” thing.

You don’t have to be a graphic designer. There are many tools around that, with a little thought, will help you make some interesting choices that won’t break people’s eyes. Keynote and PowerPoint have quite sensible defaults and well-designed templates. Using one of these and not jamming three million lines on to the screen will generally result in a tolerable outcome. Using the notes feature in either and printing out take away handouts for students will deal with the ‘presentation versus notes’ problem. Look at other presentations that you’ve liked and, respectfully, adopt the features that work. Learn and use some of the simplest techniques for making things look better. Things like the Golden ratio for working out relative text sizes – simple but effective. Things like checking your work for its black and white contrast or what happens if the colours change… (more on this later) Some of the big companies have spent a lot of money to hire designers to make your job easier. Don’t fight it – use it!

Ok, some of you can’t do this. I get that. If you’ve tried, and all you get is TimeCube (NOT SAFE FOR WORK IN SO MANY WAYS), then step away from the keyboard. 🙂 But if you haven’t really tried because you’re scared of getting it wrong, or because, years ago, someone put you in the box of “No, you can’t”, then try again. Get an honest mirror to look in and try again.

True confessions time: Are all of my materials at a level where I’m proud of them and think that I’ve done as much as I can? No, not yet. But I am working on them and converting them, consistently and maintaining the integrity of the course, as much as I can and as fast as I can. I am on the same path that you are and I still have a lot of work to do but sharing with my local, extended and network community makes me value my efforts in this direction more. And all my student feedback says “Not only do we like it, but we seem to learn better from it.” Maybe it’s because I like it more – maybe the materials are better. For once, an outcome will suffice.

Today’s homework, which you are so free to ignore, is to consolidate an entire lecture’s key points into one slide – at the presentation systems’s default font size (no shrinking!). Can you? Should you? Why or why not? If this slide, assuming it exists, was up the front, would it make the entire lecture easier to understand? If at the end, does it tell everyone what they should know? How has it made you think about the lecture? What would a student learn if you set this to them as an assignment?


Smart and Beautiful

This week I’m planning to write a series of posts on design and graphic issues in teaching. The first thing I want to say on this is that it is possible for all of our teaching materials to be full of knowledge AND to look good: “Smart and Beautiful.”

Why think about visual design? Because, if you’re actually carrying out a design process, it’s not all that much more effort to add into the mix. If you’re not actually sketching out a design before you put a course or course materials together… urm… why? I realise that there are people out there who can put an entire course together in their heads, present it flawlessly and make it look beautiful and effortless. However, I’m pretty sure that a lot of you are like me – with work you can achieve a lot but to appear effortless and beautiful takes a lot of preparation and a looooooong run-up.

All of you who can throw it together with no planning – you’re excused, have a coffee or beverage of your choice. I’ll be talking about other stuff that will interest you tomorrow. For the rest of you, let’s quickly talk about basic design principles again: what am I trying to do, who is my audience, what do I have to work with? Your visual design comes in for the last two. Limitations of presentation should not have an impact upon your teaching (although, sadly it can if you’re resource starved). Knowing who you are writing for and what you have to write WITH tells you a lot about what your course will look like.

Let’s be clear. I’m not saying “Your PowerPoint must be beautiful”, I’m saying “Are you going to use PowerPoint? How are you going to communicate your information to a predominantly visual group of learners?” (Those of you dealing with the visually challenged have another challenging problem that I hope to discuss later this week. I’m not ignoring this issue, but I want to focus on the graphic issues first.)

May I give you a small piece of work to think about? What was the best presentation that you ever saw – do you remember it? The one where the information unrolled itself so well that a single image or slide conveyed a vast amount of information? We can’t all have stage presence and be good presenters, so I don’t want you to think about the best presenter you ever saw, I want you to think about the resources that were used.

Now, thinking about that, could you use anything from that in your own teaching?

I’ll see you tomorrow to talk about this some more.


Bang, bang, you’re educated.

I currently have a summer research scholarship who is working on a project called “Bang Bang, you’re educated: Serious games in Computer Science”. For the last week, he’s been reading a number of books I’ve lent him, reading across a number of key websites and thinking, based on his own experiences, how he could build a game that teaches people interesting things about CS or gives them practice in key skills in CS.

The core book was “Reality is Broken” by Jane McGonigal, who wonders at length why people spend so much time playing games, given how hard it is to get them to perform similar actions in reality. I wouldn’t say I agree with everything that she suggests but as a unifying introductory document, especially with key vocabulary, it’s very valuable. My poor student has a number of other books, of varying age, that he’s using as references to get more depth in key areas. To his credit, not only is he immersed in these books, he reads to and from Uni as well. [ I thought we’d almost managed to stamp out reading? 🙂 ]

He has six weeks work on this project and he started on Monday the 9th. I’d given him some pre-reading, all web-based, before he showed up but on Monday he got all of the books and instructions to read all of “Reality is Broken” while thinking about the project overview and how he could answer some key questions. Tuesday afternoon we met, discussed what he’d done, and then I told him to come up with 5-6 target student groups, approaches, techniques and (ultimately) games. I gave him a giant desk-based flip pad (3M sticky note topped A2 sheets. Very cool), some sticky notes and told him to throw ideas together – then pick the three best for presentation on Thursday.

Thursday he came in and presented three game ideas of which two blew me away and one of which was (only) pretty good. Clear presentation. Good ideas. But, most importantly, he had also selected his favourite (which happened to be mine as well). It was a great moment and, in the spirit of random reward, he walked out with praise and Lindt chocolates. He also left with instructions to turn the prime candidate into a five week development plan, with risk assessment, weekly project goals and extension possibilities. For presentation today.

Today, he presented the candidate, to me and another academic, and the game sounds great. At this stage, it sounds like it will meet the requirements that I set for him at the start. In outline, they were:

  1. The game must either increase CS knowledge or develop a CS skill.
  2. It will be sufficiently enjoyable that students will want to play it.
  3. The game is generally accessible to people at all levels of knowledge and skill.
  4. Playing the game enhances learning, it doesn’t detract from learning.
  5. The game may be integrated with external reward activities (as part of an alternate reality game link to a class, for example)
  6. The game will be ready for students to play in 5 weeks.

The successful candidate is being play tested, with the paper rules, for the first time on Tuesday. Tune in then to see how we went!