Vacation Ritual for the 21st Century

No one can stay connected all the time. It isn’t healthful, and it isn’t practical. You don’t have to travel to put healthy distance between yourself and your work. Sometimes, you just need to unplug.

My work life has been pretty hectic the past few months. I love the work that I do and I have recently had the chance to take on new, complex, interesting challenges. Still, I have run myself a little ragged. The term “overclocked” keeps passing through my head lately.

So today I am starting a much needed vacation, one week plus a few extra days to carry past my daughter’s sixth birthday. When I leave work for more than a day, I leave good people in charge and trust my team to make good decisions. I try to make myself available by phone and/or email in case of emergencies. Emergencies don’t often arise in the library. Still, I often monitor email while on vacation just to “”keep up with things”. This is crazy. I don’t need to keep up with things while on vacation. Not keeping up with things is pretty much the point of taking a vacation.

When I got home today, I decided to try something new. I disconnected my work email account from my phone. I can still scroll through my email once  in the evening, if I want. But the act of physically disconnecting my phone from work email felt really good. When email is too accessible, there is an irrational urge to check it often. Unplugging my work email from my phone prevents me from feeling the temptation to check it. Making work email inconvenient while on vacation makes “checking in” or “staying connected” feel less necessary.

I know I’m not that important. My team gets along fine without me. I know they will call if something  important actually happens that needs my immediate attention.

In the meantime, disconnecting for a little while is the only way to really get the benefit of time off. Do what you can to stop thinking about work when you aren’t at work so you can actually rest. Then, you can return more vital and focused, ready to pick up the work you left off, accomplishing stuff that matters.

My Personal Internet History

This is my first reflective essay written for the Internet History Technology and Security MOOC I am taking with Dr. Chuck Severance via Coursera. What’s your personal interent history?

*******

I first met the internet in 1992. I was a senior in high school when my friend Brian introduced me to a thing called Gopher. Gopher was a bunch of orange letters on a black computer screen. Brian explained the idea of how the computer in my parents’ home office was connecting to lots of other people’s computers through a series of networks. He explained how I could hear the sound of that mysterious connection through the erratic pings and whistles of our 2600 baud modem. He explained how I could navigate those networks through a simple, command driven menu. Everything was text based. I could get words on my screen to imitate the words on someone else’s screen anytime I wanted. I could read messages posted on bulletin boards by people I didn’t even know. Gopher could take me anywhere I wanted to go, so long as where I wanted to go was one of several dozen universities. I was not impressed. There wasn’t anywhere I wanted to go.

Brian was a smart guy. He knew stuff.  A few years later, he tried to impress me again with his knowledge of a thing called Mosaic. This was way better than Gopher, he told me. There was more than just words on a screen. There were pictures and colors. I could navigate with a mouse rather than text input command menus. He was right. Web browsing was way better than Gopher. It was easier, more intuitive and more appealing. There still wasn’t anywhere I wanted to go.

I was slow to catch on to the importance of the World Wide Web. I didn’t enjoy chatting with people I didn’t know on AOL. I still find chatting with people I actually know in real life a bit tedious. I didn’t like reading subpar fan fiction. There were too many great books sitting on my shelves unread. I did email and the occasional Yahoo search but logged probably less than two or three hours a week online until I studied to become a librarian.

As a library desk clerk, I was amazed when our card catalog was automated. Suddenly, books were easy to discover and locate. Instead of only three paths to a book (title, author, and subject), I could now search for books by keyword. Things I cared about became a lot easier to keep track of.

That’s when I started thinking about the importance of metadata and how good digital record keeping makes things easier to store, organize and retrieve. I began thinking about the internet like a giant database of millions of different kinds of things people cared about. I began to pay attention to how books, articles and other intellectual artifacts were coded, tagged and labeled for easy recovery. And then, I began to notice how much easier getting useful, personally relevant information had become.

In the library, I saw grandparents emailing grandchildren. I saw unemployed workers searching national job registries for opportunities. I saw people sharing recommendations about the books they read with friends scattered all around the world. These were all things libraries were supposed to help people do. Networked computers helped people do those things faster and better.

I received my Masters of Science in Information Sciences from University of Tennessee, Knoxville in 2000. That same year, I took my first professional position as User Services Librarian at Roane State Community College. As a young librarian, I adopted the myth that libraries were somehow in competition with Google. I tried my best to teach my students that the convenience of Google was great but that serious research and real knowledge required the sacred authority that dwelled only in print. My gospel was that learning required sacrifice and discomfort and that the fun of the persistent, exhaustive search was its own reward.

I no longer believe that. The world has changed. Information is easy to get. Google and Wikipedia make facts and fact-like items easy to obtain. With the advent of wireless internet and mobile devices, we are positively swimming in easy to get information. Facebook and Twitter have changed the way we communicate with each other. Facebook makes it easy to share everyday details of our hidden lives with each other so that we can know one another more completely. Twitter surfaces like-minded fellows from across the world with whom I can share ideas and get instant, valuable feedback and useful articles without even asking. They know what I need before I do and they share it willingly. They share it simply for the joy of sharing.

People ask if the world still needs libraries in the age of Google, iPads, eBooks and Twitter. I think yes, but I’m not sure that those libraries necessarily need to look like they have looked in the past. I stopped telling my students that Google is bad. It isn’t. Much of the world’s best knowledge, scholarship and ideas are findable online. Not everything is accessible online, but most everything is discoverable. Licensing restrictions, pay walls and complex copyright processes prevent most current information from being easily, freely shared. But still, I believe there has never been a better time to be doing the kind of work that I am doing. The internet makes our information lives much richer, deeper and more complex. Information is everywhere, but context is scarce. The next work of librarians and educators is going to be helping people figure out how to make their best sense of these riches to build new things that are useful. This is the work that lies ahead. It is work that I enjoy very much.

This is the first few chapters in my personal internet history.

The Best Dads List

I have a great dad. I hope you do, too.

So many of the values I carry with me come from behaviors and beliefs my father modeled. My dad taught me to be respectful, tolerant, and curious. He taught me to enjoy doing hard things, to set high expectations for myself and not settle for less than my personal best. He also modeled patience, but I’m not sure that one stuck.

I’ll write more about my dad in a later post. Tonight, I am thinking about great dads in literature. These are the dads we get to adopt from our reading. Aspirational dads who offer enduring examples of what it means to be a father.

Here’s the start:

  1. Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird — He’s a obvious choice, I realize, but there is really no better example of a dad who is calm, rational and able to use the experiences of everyday life to create lasting moral lessons. Atticus is an exemplar for his kids. They don’t, of course, realize how special he is until they get some distance. When my daughter was born, a friend gave me a paperback copy of To Kill a Mockingbird wrapped in a homemade cover that read A Gentleman’s to Fatherhood. She was right.
  2. Oskar Schell’s dad in Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close — We never meet Oskar’s father. He dies in the World Trade Center collapse before the book begins. Still, the memory of his father’s life and the trauma of his loss motivate Oskar on a quest of discovery that brings him into greater awareness of the world and how it really works. Our fathers set us on paths to become the people the world needs us to be.
  3. The dad in Cormac McCarthy’s The Road — The world we knew is gone, destroyed by war and nuclear winter. Civilization has collapsed. The survivors are crazed, amoral cannibals bent on destruction disguised as survival. The father shephards his son on a walk across the country in hopes of finding some better life. There is no reason to believe they will find it but the father keeps them alive, moving forward and, above all, protects the innocence and hope in his son because he knows his son is going to need that hope to help build a new world. In the event of nuclear catastrophe or zombie apocalypse, this is the kind of dad I hope I could be.

That’s my start. Let’s make this a team sport. What dads from literature inspire you?

 

Open Education is about Student Control

Lately, when people talk about “open education” they seem to be thinking mostly about the ease with which students enter an online course. MOOCs are generally free and easy to join. In this sense, they are certainly open and this kind of openness can be an important way to allow access to education opportunities to people who don’t have money or live in place without a strong educational infrastructure.

Open can also refer to the ease with which a student can interact with the course learning environment in order to carry resources in and out. The ability to access learning resources outside of the course management system is a pretty big deal.

I spend a lot of time researching and supporting the development of online learning at my college. Recently, I have been coming to this work as a student. One of the things I admire about Chuck Severance’s Internet History, Security and History MOOC is the ease with which I can download videos, export calendars to my mobile device and track conversations in Twitter.

Every video lecture resides within the course management system but is also published on YouTube and available for easy MP4 download for offline viewing. This is a strong consideration for users who may not be able to watch the lecture videos while online. The user has the option of where and how they want to engage with the lecture portion of the class. I must admit the download option worked great for my laptop but I haven’t taken the time to shift them to my iPad for viewing. The in-course streaming hasn’t been seemless due to inordinate buffering. YouTube viewing has been my favorite option. It works well.

I understand that the native Coursera-hosted video version has additional content like embedded, interactive quizzes. I haven’t seen those yet so I will reserve judgement as to whether the trade is worthwhile. The point is I have several options and can choose the one that best suits my need.

I also like being able to export the course calender into a Google calendar which I can then carry on my mobile device. There is also an iCal option for Mac users to synchronize with their device calendars. This isn’t a huge deal for this course since the calendar is pretty spare right now, but if I were a student managing several courses, I would definitely want to carry everything with me in one place.

A few days ago I wrote about my first experience with the MOOC discussion boards. The introduction board was the heaviest use since most students are posting to that board. The other boards have less traffic and, so far, are easier to monitor. That said, class conversation isn’t limited only to native discussion boards. The class chat also happens across Twitter, Facebook and GooglePlus. Given the scale, the class conversation can spread across three social platforms without much trouble. Twitter is the highest use channel and the only one I really watch at all. Again, I have choices.

This brings me to my main realization. The current course management system (CMS) at my college is designed as an environment where students visit to discover, access and use course materials, lectures and supplementary learning resources. Students who want to send a message login to the CMS. Students who want to check their class schedule login to the CMS. Students who want to watch lecture or do class readings or make notes login into the CMS. Everything is contained in the CMS and nothing really comes out. The student goes there for everything.

I know part of this is instructional design, but the default condition is to use the CMS as a destination and/or storehouse. Instructors who want their students to take resources outside of the classroom figure out hacks.

I know really good students who use this system. They sometimes carry resources, schedules and materials out in Google docs to ensure that they can access and organize those resources in the way they want, when they want without having to be online and at a computer screen. There has to be a better way.

Mobile-friendly learning design is no longer optional for online learning.

A Quick Lesson in Web-Scale Education: Email Notifications

Second full day of my participation in Dr. Chuck’s Internet History, Security, and Technology. Note to self: the M in MOOC really does stand for massive, as in super freaking huge enrollment.

As with most online courses, the first activity is a short discussion board post about yourself and your interests, experiences or expectations for learning the course material. As usual, I posted my response and set my account to receive updates via email for additional posts to that thread. Emails spilled into my inbox all night, all morning and all day long. My most recent inbox purge found 225 unread emails. There were many more before that count and many more to come, I’m sure. I quickly unsubscribed.

Discussion boards usually have a daily digest option. I can’t find a digest setting so I just unsubscribed. I’m not sure I would want to read that fifty screen digest anyway.

I will need to come back to this problem of discussion updates. I suspect there is a setting somewhere that I have missed.

For now, I feel very much like a student in a lecture hall with 10,000 other students. This time, instead of everyone quietly listening, everyone is talking and saying something interesting and everyone one of them is speaking directly to me.

I am sure there is a better way to navigate the conversation. There needs to be.

Stay tuned.

Getting Started with MOOC #2: Coursera’s Internet History, Technology and Security

For the next 11 weeks, I will be learning about the origins, development and structure of the internet. I am taking a free online course taught by Dr. Charles Severance of the University of Michigan. There are several thousand other students taking the course with me. The course is offered by Coursera as a massively open online course, or MOOC. My classmates are joining me from all over the world.

The content is very relevant to the work I do and to the interests of this blog. I hope to share some of the things I am learning from time to time. Even though life is very hectic for me right now, I wanted to take this course because it fills a gap in my professional knowledge. My masters in information sciences did not dig very deep into the history and structure of the internet itself. I know the basic story — ARPAnet, CERN, Vint Cerf, Mosaic, Google, etc. My brief introduction to internet history focused primary on the social/cultural history. I want to know the fuller narrative. I want to know more about the technical aspects and how they have development. What, actually, is the internet? How does it work? Where is it?

This will be my second MOOC. I took a shorter 4 week course last month on Instructional Design for Mobile Learning last month. Like most people who sign up for a no-cost, online, no accountability course, I did not finish that course. I learned a few things and was fascinated by how it operated.

I am interested in seeing how MOOCs operate, since online educators, librarians, higher ed administrators and state government are getting pretty much obsessed with the prospects of delivering low-cost education at web scale. Whether web-scale, mass education is possible remains to be seen. I do know that MOOCs can deliver on the promise of low-cost, personalized, continuous professional development.

My first MOOC operated on the Canvas platform and felt like a really fun social media platform for smart people who liked to share their learning. It was a fun, collegial and inspiring learning environment. Pretty much like the best seminar class I ever had in grad school.

This experience will be different. The course is longer. The structure is more buttoned-down. Activities and lectures are released weekly. Activities, quizzes and exams are graded. Things are due on time to ensure some level of accountability. There are honor codes and, for a small fee, potential for a credential of sorts.

So I am looking forward to getting into this new classroom as a student and seeing what I can learn about online teaching that helps me be a better teacher and librarian. And I am going to try not to let this disturb my goal of writing four short stories in the next two months.

This is the kind of weirdness I do for fun.

Summer vacations are for wusses. 🙂

How Twitter Connects Writers with Readers

Two months ago, I posted a review of Barbara Abercrombie’s Year of Writing Dangerously. It is the kind of thing readers do spontaneously when they enjoy a book. They want to share that book. Readers who blog share by writing reviews.

Yesterday, the author of that book, Barbara Abercrombie, tweeted a link to my review. It was kind of her because it gave my review new readers. It felt really good to have an author I enjoyed read and acknowledge my own work in some small way. It was a nice gesture.

Here’s the thing: her random share was helpful to both of us. I have felt stuck for weeks and got myself unstuck last night because I recalled the things that originally inspired me in her book, I felt a small sense of acknowledgment from someone further along the writing path and I reread my post with fresh eyes and liked what I saw. I wrote again last night, and it was fun.

The share was helpful to her because it connected her readers with a favorable, honest reader review of her work. Reviews in vetted publications still matter very much to writers. There is still no substitute for a positive review in NY Times, Kirkus, Library Journal or Publishers Weekly. Those publications help book buyers know what to buy and what to avoid. As a reader, I need something more than just a critical evaluation of a book’s content and technical execution. I want to know if readers like me connect with the book. If professional reviewers rave about a book, but no readers are blogging about it, I don’t feel as enthusiastic about picking it up.

Writers seeking their audience should consider the small, simple connections made possible by Twitter. Writing isn’t supposed to be one directional. Writing is supposed to be a conversation. Twitter is a tool that helps make that possible.

Flash Fiction: Let me Go Easy

Prompt: Let Me Go Easy (Indigo Girls)

He was counting breaths again, watching the slow rise and fall of her withered chest, trying to focus every thought on the slow, steady movement of her breath and not the ragged wheeze that came with each rise and fall. Yesterday he had counted ten thousand before he had to look away. Today he made it to six thousand before pins and needles settled into his own chest and he realized he was holding his breath.

Emily was dying. She had been dying for years. “We are all dying,” she reminded him whenever he let himself get carried off with grief. She would smile her kind, gentle smile whenever she said it. And it was a true thing to say. Emily had always been brave and generous with truth. That bravery, that generosity was the reason Marcus counted breaths. He couldn’t allow himself to be without her.

It was all so precarious – the life left inside of her, the humor in her smile, the recognition shining in her eyes. Her life was a fragile thing. It would slip and fracture, Marcus knew, if he stepped away or let his vigil relax for even a moment.

Emily had been dying for years, slowly devoured by the blind, insatiable, humid mouths of cancer. They ate at her from the inside, slowly reshaping her lovely face, twisting her arms and legs and shoulders into dry, brittle sticks. Marcus kept the curtains drawn and covered her with heavy blankets to press against the constant chill in her blood. She was already ghost. If he raised the covers or creased the curtains, she would vanish completely, like a wisp of candle smoke.

“We are all dying,” she had told him and it was true enough. There was no argument to be had. No counterlogic he could apply to refute the cold meal of the situation.

“Yes. I know.” It was the only thing he could say. Much better to say nothing, just sit silently beside her, counting breaths, quietly hoping he could reach ten thousand today and then beyond. He owed her that much. He owed her much more than that. She deserved his patience, his vigilance, the respectful suspension of his own life.

Marcus had never been a religious person. It was a point of pride for him that, even in this most extreme moment of his life, he had not yet turned to a faith in God he did not genuinely feel. And yet, in these same moments, keeping Emily company, counting her breaths, Marcus understood the meaning of prayer.

Prayer in those moments was an impossible, implausible hope written as a sentence in a language no one had ever spoken then sealed in an envelope with adequate postage but no mailing address or recipient name.

He was almost to seven thousand when Emily spoke. “I’m tired,” she said. Her voice so faint, so small, Marcus felt he might have imagined it.

He had imagined many different conversations between them over the past few weeks. His mind had a way of filling the silence. It was a hard thing to counter. The mind wandered like a dog tied to leash. First this way, then that. Restless. Disobedient. Impatient but fully habituated to the confines of that tether.

That tether. The thing that held them together, that held her to him. That thing was love. That thing was attention.

Marcus noticed his mind wandering, chastised himself and brought his attention back to the reality of the moment. His heart hammering with panic. If he let this attention lapse, she might slip free of that tether and slide away.

6786.

6787.

Emily stirred. She spoke but her mouth hung open, empty as a cave. A few words tumbled out, shattered syllables.

6788.

6789.

She tried again, her eyes clenched with effort.

“Don’t,” he told her, pressing his hand to her forehead.

6790.

6791.

She drew a breath. Marcus felt all the air in the room drawn inside her in one enormous breath. They sat together suspended in the airless room.

“Let me go,” she said, releasing the air back into the room. Her eyes were open, alert and watching him closely.

6792.

6793.

6794.

6795.

“I can’t,” he told her finally. “I don’t know how.”

6796.

6797.

Her eyes shone with that hard, familiar gleam. “Just stop,” she told him. “Stop counting.”

6798.

6799.

“I can’t,” he admitted. “I don’t know how.”

She smiled. It was a crippled version of her best smile, that sweet, indulgent, almost mocking smile that had been the greatest gift in his life.

“You can. You have to.”

6800.

6801.

6802.

“I can’t and I won’t.”

6803.

6804.

6805.

“Please,” she asked again.

6806.

6807.

6808.

6809.

“I can’t,” Marcus said again at last. “I don’t want to.”

6810.

6811.

6812.

Emily smiled. It was a faint, shallow smile that barely seemed to touch her face. And then she relaxed back into the bed, sinking into the sheets and shadows.

6813.

6814.

She was in the room with him. They were in the room together.

And then, she was the room itself and Marcus felt the smallness of himself sitting at the center of her, bathed in the warm breath of her love, reaching out to him and around him and through him. It pierced him like a hundred arrows. Pressed him like a hand. Cradled him with a comforting, steady assurance.

6815.

6816.

And then she was gone and he was alone. And all the shadows grew darker as they seemed to gather around him. And in the darkness Marcus realized he could not keep himself from counting.

6817.

6818.

6819.

The numbers continued.

6820.

6821.

6822.

The numbers rolled from him. The numbers were all he had.

6823.

6824.

Marcus could not stop.

6825.

6826.

6827.

And then something opened up inside and the dread filled him.

6828.

6829.

6830.

The numbers came and came and came and he could not stop them from coming.

6831.

6832.

And Marcus suddenly knew with sick twist of horror that the numbers would never stop coming.

He had not been counting her breaths all those months. He had been counting his own.

And now the breaths stretched out before him, an endless litany stretching through the minutes, hours, days, months and years.

He would never stop counting. He did not know how.

The Quixotic Search for Magic Bullets

I have been trying for days to distill my thoughts about changes in higher education into a single, coherent post. I haven’t gotten there yet. This is not that post.

What I want to say is this: when things get really confused, uncertain and fluxy, we often tend to protect ourselves with mental shortcuts in a effort to simplify. We call these shortcuts magic bullets. Resist this urge. Difficult problems are complex and deserve complex, nuanced solutions. Long-term, systemic problems are never solved overnight. Finding the quick fix cannot be the goal.

Lay off the search for magic bullets.

Magic bullets distract us.

Magic bullets drain resources.

Magic bullets confuse the very people who are busy trying to build the long overdue solutions.

 

The Way We Get News

A few minutes ago I sat down to write an entirely different post. My attention was caught by a friends’ comment on another friends Facebook post. That post asked prayers for the children of Oklahoma. Dreading news of yet another school shooting, I Googled “Oklahoma news”, trusting that the top hits would be from the Google News feed. It wasn’t a school shooting. It was a massive tornado, a mile wide, that traveled straight through Oklahoma City. This happened a few hours ago.

The news article contained a captured tweet from Oklahoma’s Governor Mary Fallin. The tweet used the hashtag #okwx. I followed the tag to a real-time stream of comments, links and backyard photos of the tornadoes path.

Much has been written about Twitter and Facebook as a source of breaking news. I’m not sure I have much to add to that conversation, except “yes”.

I am struck by how far I have come from the way I used to get my news. I stopped watching televised news several years ago when the steady tide of breaking news became too much and overtaxed my nervous system. At that time, I trusted NPR to deliver the news I needed via radio. During times of national crisis or local emergency, I knew that NPR would prime me to pay attention where attention was warranted.

Late last year, I became obsessed with  podcasts, which now occupy my entire commute to work and back again. I don’t watch TV news. I don’t habitually listen to radio news. I have stopped reading newspapers and really don’t even follow newspapers blogs or Twitter feeds. I am off the media news grid. And yet, I still keep informed.

I use news curation tools like Zite, Feedly and Flipboard to push important stories up to my attention. This keeps me relatively well-informed about day to day updates. I fill in the cracks with media podcasts like On the Media to help me make sense of larger trends and find stories I missed.

The gap here is breaking news. Today, for the first time, I realized that I trust my social networks to let me know when something big is going down, and that I am okay with that.

I don’t need to know every last detail as it becomes revealed. I don’t need to watch wreckage porn to know things are bad. I just want to know what is happening, what is being done to respond and what I can do to help.

I am really interested in how people discover, interpret and receive their news. I am especially interested in those patterns of behavior as information habits. Where do you get your news? How have your news habits changed? Comments are most welcome.

Keep the people of Oklahoma in your thoughts. They are going to need our help for many years to come.