Last night I had the wonderful opportunity to be present at an NVIVO training workshop for the Center for Women and Work's (CWW) Emerging Scholars Program (undergraduates working with faculty mentors).
My former doctoral student, Stuart Robertson, NVivo trainer par excellence, led the three hour event. It is so exciting to see our UMass-Lowell graduates taking on the qualitative research world as consultants, trainers, and leaders in the NVivo world (In addition to Stuart, Stacy Penna, and Cindi Jacobs are also NVivo experts working for QSR).
The software continues to grow and complexity but Stuart makes it seem so easy and natural. He calms all fears and answers all questions--but he was doing this even as a graduate student. What a gift.
I am excited to see undergraduates thrown into the NVivo soup pot and seeing what happens. It doesn't seem to hurt them to start their learning about qualitative research from this place--a software. One told me that he hadn't been formally been introduced to qualitative research before, but from figuring out the software he could extract the ideas about qualitative research. [This would be anathema to some researchers...but really do we need to have all that theory and philosophy before we start doing it?]
My two emerging scholars have been working for the last few weeks in the software...same way...here's what you need to do, here is how the tool works...and I wrap in comments about qualitative research as we go along. They don't seem to be the worse for it, and I feel like I am teaching in a very fluid and natural way. Focusing on the project (sexting) keeps us organized. It makes me wonder how could I move classes that are formally named "Qualitative Research" more toward this model of "do".
An exciting evening. But then any time spent with our Emerging Scholars is time well spent.
Showing posts with label Undergraduate education. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Undergraduate education. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Monday, January 18, 2010
Discernment
Discernment is a topic that threads through a lot of my recent work. By discernment I mean the slow (sometimes exilherating, sometimes painful) process of figuring out a life path. Issues related to discernment are central to the Journal Project (see earlier blogs) and the work I am doing with undergraduates interested in education.
In the Journal Project, I am trying to understand the process of discernment that I underwent during the two-year period post tenure. In the undergraduate work (Transitions in Higher Education is one title it's been given), I am trying to understand how discernment can be supported for college students interested in becoming teachers.
In thinking about these projects, one source of inspiration has been the notion of discernment that is found in early Protestant churches in America (Congregational/Quaker and the like). Discernment was a process of listening to diverse voices until the word of God could be deciphered. It was a group interpretive process. This is the impetus for much of our governmental process of debate, and it has led to such practices as the Quaker Committees of Caring.
Tools for discernment has also been a shared focus of the two projects. In the Journal Project, which is a retrospective work, I am seeking to understand the tools I used for my process of discernment--the journal being a major example. Other tools include: the arts, walking the dog, and participation in body arts--meditation and yoga. In the undergraduate project, I am consciously trying to create tools that will serve the process of discernment. Digital storytelling, collage, personal roadmaps, and paired interviewing are examples of some of the tools with which I have experimented.
Over the past year, I have numerous journal entries that weave back and forth between discernment in my own case...and discernment and undergraduate prospective teachers. What is discernment? Why is it important? How do we do it? What supports the process of discernment? How is discernment distinct from career counseling?
Discernment is challenging and enlarging. Even when you are dead certain about what you want to do, the path may not be straight and uncluttered. Discernment requires integration, the movement from inner life to outer world and back again, weaving together diverse kinds of materials into new strands of fabric.
The photo above is a piece I made at Felter's Fling August 2009, which I have used as part of a landscape art project. To me it offers much food for thought in the area of discernment. I'll leave it to you to think about!
In the Journal Project, I am trying to understand the process of discernment that I underwent during the two-year period post tenure. In the undergraduate work (Transitions in Higher Education is one title it's been given), I am trying to understand how discernment can be supported for college students interested in becoming teachers.
In thinking about these projects, one source of inspiration has been the notion of discernment that is found in early Protestant churches in America (Congregational/Quaker and the like). Discernment was a process of listening to diverse voices until the word of God could be deciphered. It was a group interpretive process. This is the impetus for much of our governmental process of debate, and it has led to such practices as the Quaker Committees of Caring.
Tools for discernment has also been a shared focus of the two projects. In the Journal Project, which is a retrospective work, I am seeking to understand the tools I used for my process of discernment--the journal being a major example. Other tools include: the arts, walking the dog, and participation in body arts--meditation and yoga. In the undergraduate project, I am consciously trying to create tools that will serve the process of discernment. Digital storytelling, collage, personal roadmaps, and paired interviewing are examples of some of the tools with which I have experimented.
Over the past year, I have numerous journal entries that weave back and forth between discernment in my own case...and discernment and undergraduate prospective teachers. What is discernment? Why is it important? How do we do it? What supports the process of discernment? How is discernment distinct from career counseling?
Discernment is challenging and enlarging. Even when you are dead certain about what you want to do, the path may not be straight and uncluttered. Discernment requires integration, the movement from inner life to outer world and back again, weaving together diverse kinds of materials into new strands of fabric.
The photo above is a piece I made at Felter's Fling August 2009, which I have used as part of a landscape art project. To me it offers much food for thought in the area of discernment. I'll leave it to you to think about!
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Homage to Undergraduates
On this second day of 2010, I have been thinking back with fondness to the last term of school, and, in particular about my undergraduate course: Understanding Education, 01.391, the first offering in a new minor in education that my program is offering. This entry is written in homage to the 18 young people that joined me in that journey Fall 2009. May their futures be bright, and may they light the lives of the young people with whom they work.
It was the second undergraduate course I have taught in my time in higher education--the first was 10 years ago! I developed the course with a university colleague. We were both intrigued with the idea of digital storytelling and how it might serve as a bridge between students and their educational pasts and futures. We were anchored in a good text
(Educational Foundations: An Anthology of Critical Readings by Dr. Alan S. Canestrari and Bruce A. Marlowe) that asked ask good, big questions like: What is a good teacher? What does a good school look like? Why assess?
For 15 weeks we joined together--students and two instructors--to explore the basics of education and the educational experiences of these young people and to consider a future for them in education. Many of the what and who about education were new to them (Coalition of Essential Schools, progressive education, etc.). As they learned about these movements and individuals for the first time, I heard and saw this known world in new ways--it was exciting to hear them debate the qualities of good instruction or consider what components they would add to a good school.
But what I am pondering this morning as the snow builds outside are the words they wrote to us in the last reflective memo. Three things stand out in my mind from their comments.
1. It was inspiriting.
My co-teacher and I were excited about education, its possibilities and potential. We were promoters and advocates for the field. We believed that education was a good field to go into and we wanted to recruit them for this honorable work.
2. The instructors enjoyed themselves.
We were excited and pleased to be there every class. We enjoyed the class, the content, the activities, and the discussions. They said they felt this. They noted that we smiled and joked, and that it made them happy to come to class because we were happy to see them.
3. We treated them like human beings.
Students noted that we didn't keep an uneasy distance between them and us (a distance often reflective of fear or uncertainty). We treated them as real people--caring about them, listening to them, and showing concern about them...not just our class goals.
Sure--I think they did learn in this environment, but these words written at the end of the semester remind me of the basic elements that we/they must provide to every student: safety, care, respect, trust, dignity, truth, and hope. I am honored that they thought we were able to do this. My thanks to the students of UE 01.390 for reminding me of what is needed in every class...and my thanks to Kerry, an incredible educator who undertook this journey with me.
It was the second undergraduate course I have taught in my time in higher education--the first was 10 years ago! I developed the course with a university colleague. We were both intrigued with the idea of digital storytelling and how it might serve as a bridge between students and their educational pasts and futures. We were anchored in a good text
(Educational Foundations: An Anthology of Critical Readings by Dr. Alan S. Canestrari and Bruce A. Marlowe) that asked ask good, big questions like: What is a good teacher? What does a good school look like? Why assess?
For 15 weeks we joined together--students and two instructors--to explore the basics of education and the educational experiences of these young people and to consider a future for them in education. Many of the what and who about education were new to them (Coalition of Essential Schools, progressive education, etc.). As they learned about these movements and individuals for the first time, I heard and saw this known world in new ways--it was exciting to hear them debate the qualities of good instruction or consider what components they would add to a good school.
But what I am pondering this morning as the snow builds outside are the words they wrote to us in the last reflective memo. Three things stand out in my mind from their comments.
1. It was inspiriting.
My co-teacher and I were excited about education, its possibilities and potential. We were promoters and advocates for the field. We believed that education was a good field to go into and we wanted to recruit them for this honorable work.
2. The instructors enjoyed themselves.
We were excited and pleased to be there every class. We enjoyed the class, the content, the activities, and the discussions. They said they felt this. They noted that we smiled and joked, and that it made them happy to come to class because we were happy to see them.
3. We treated them like human beings.
Students noted that we didn't keep an uneasy distance between them and us (a distance often reflective of fear or uncertainty). We treated them as real people--caring about them, listening to them, and showing concern about them...not just our class goals.
Sure--I think they did learn in this environment, but these words written at the end of the semester remind me of the basic elements that we/they must provide to every student: safety, care, respect, trust, dignity, truth, and hope. I am honored that they thought we were able to do this. My thanks to the students of UE 01.390 for reminding me of what is needed in every class...and my thanks to Kerry, an incredible educator who undertook this journey with me.
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