TECHPED:
The e-Dog Ate My e-Homework!
David A. Starrett, Michael L. Rodgers, and Thomas C. Laughner

The online course has been perking along for three weeks; everything seems fine. Students are able to log in without undue difficulty, and the online discussion board remains on-topic and productive. But, the first major assignment is due tomorrow, and students are suddenly sending ominous e-mails: "I can't get the assignment!" "The drop box doesn't work, and my e-mail won't send attachments!" "Will I fail if I can't get the assignment to you by tomorrow?" "Should I drop?" "HELP!"

Familiar? Have you heard others? We feel as if we've heard ‘em all. Here is our Top Ten list; you can probably think of many more:

— The Web page won't load.
— The server is down.
— My internet connection isn't working.
— I can't find the web site.
— I didn't know when it was due.
— I am sure I submitted it; the computer must have messed up.
— I didn't see that assignment.
— I DID send it to you, didn't you get it?
— My password doesn't work (I can't login).
— My grandfather died (O.K., this isn't specific to online but it still gets used widely).

Excuses. Worry. Guilt. They have long been a staple of student assignments. Now, building technology into the teaching/learning environment has given students a new supply of reasons NOT to honor the terms of an assignment. But is technology really the reason why work is not submitted on time, or at all, as students claim? Should we abandon efforts to extend teaching and learning to the online environment because students have trouble submitting assignments? It would seem that technology would make assignments easier, by imposing a rational structure for posting responses, offering 24/7 submission of completed work, and promoting reusability of student work. Nevertheless, students seem to see technology as an obstacle to successful completion of assignments online and in other courses in which technology is used. Taken further, students may even see technology as a ready excuse for missing assignments and ignoring deadlines or rules, much as the appearance of a substitute teacher provides instant justification for avoiding school work.

Assignments and the Instructor-Student Relationship

What must happen for a student to successfully complete an assignment? For most assignments, the instructor must take action in two key ways: First, develop the course material so that the assignment has meaning in the context of the course; second, clearly convey the actual assignment to the student. Well-formed assignments will include contractual information: the due date, the assign­ment's value towards the course grade, special requirements or restrictions on the response (such as maximum word count, minimum number of references, permission to do the work collaboratively, and expectations for the level of rigor), and perhaps a scoring rubric.

The student's responsibility in the electronic age hasn't changed. The student's responsibility is to become aware of the assignment and its requirements, and to agree (usually implicitly) to perform the work and submit it as prescribed.

The Trust Thing

But designing and conveying successful assignments depends on more than organization and logistics. In the technologically enhanced age, as before, It depends on a relationship between teacher and student. It depends on trust.

Ideally, the instructor would know the students well enough to design assignments that are challenging, but not quite beyond student capabilities. Students, in turn, would trust the instructor to give meaningful assignments (not busywork), and to evaluate work fairly. In face-to-face courses, the relationship may be cultivated through a variety of mutually supporting features, including clearly written policies in syllabi and related course documents; office hours, help sessions, and other activities that bring the instructor and students together in "live" situations; classroom management that elicits both individual and group responses; and active modeling of tolerance and respect for all students. But how would the relationship be cultivated in an online course? The timing of assignments is surely different online, especially in asynchronous courses.

Perhaps most importantly, the online and face-to-face environments differ in the degree to which the student-instructor relationship depends on written communication: many of the nonverbal and oral cues that fix the student-instructor relationship are missing or present only in alternative forms in online courses. Therefore, it's reasonable to expect that the environment will foster a different sort of relationship between student and instructor—perhaps one in which the importance of the assignment is obscured. Because we can't "see" online students, they often feel anonymous to us. From the students' point of view, maybe it seems easier to "con" an instructor who can't see the students. In a sense, the instructor is "not there" because he or she is not physically present to explain assignments or remind students of due dates and expectations. Thus, technology serves as an intermediary, and a perfect patsy on which to blame miscommunication. The instructor is less the center of attention and more a developer of content and facilitator of the learning process. In terms of the dynamic of effective teaching, this is good, but it presents a real risk: course control shifts to the students, who must read and respond to online written materials.

Sadly, attempts to establish an effective student-instructor relationship online will not be easy if we rely on students to read communications from the instructor. Indeed, counting on students to read assignments isn't effective online or offline. Consider the parallel with large lecture courses. Large classes are similar to online courses in ways that have like effects on the student-instructor relationship. Students in both environments tend to be anonymous: only those few students bold enough to initiate contact (charging the podium with questions after the lecture, sending unsolicited e-mail, etc.) become well-known to the instructor. Both environments can also show over-reliance on structural approaches to the complex problem of bringing students to deep understanding of the material. In large classes, for example, discussions are moved to recitation, so as not to derail prepared lectures. Likewise, volumes of notes and Website links often comprise the core of online courses. Multiple choice exams are often used merely because they are easier to grade, and avoid the technical difficulties associated with gathering a record of student work.

Easter Egg Hunt

In a study of student claims about course-related behaviors, University of Minnesota professor Randy Moore asked 611 students in an introductory biology course to read the course syllabus. Embedded in the syllabus was an "Easter Egg," a way to gain bonus points that required virtually no effort on the student's part. Although 76% of the students claimed to have read the syllabus, only 1% earned the bonus (Moore, 2004).

The conclusion? Despite claims to the contrary, students don't read what we assign them to read. So, maybe the problem is not the technology after all. Rather, the technology merely favors a communication mode that students are unwilling to use. For faculty teaching online or considering such a move, the lesson is clear: technology should not be used to deliver more reading materials, but other things—sound, images, simulations, games, and other "rich content," ideally combined with interactive experiences. Given a choice between text and multi-media, pick the multimedia. But this is hard. Those of us who were educated in the pre-Internet days take genuine delight in linking content to our course pages: we remember all too well the immense effort required to locate content only a few years ago. Too bad that the research offers little hope that students will actually read the content we want to link.

Until We Get Rich

Until rich content becomes available, what can we do to make the best of the situation? Maybe pre-course assessments, which usually focus on technical skills, should also focus on student willingness and motivation to read and do assignments in the online environment. Sorting students for "fitness" may offend egalitarian sensibilities, but the act of assessment itself can be a powerful statement that reading is crucial to success online. Whatever we do, we must keep our students in the game long enough and successfully enough to develop into independent learners, capable of using many tools in the quest for knowledge and understanding. Perhaps we can make the case that the benefits realized by taking courses online are worth the effort to read. Would students prefer to spend many hours each week commuting or reading? Is it desirable to have a quicker time to graduation—and the career that most students hope the degree will bring—because coursework need not wait for work or family responsibilities to recede? Technology can and does empower students to gather, process, create, and share content. But learning is still a very personal activity, for which each student must take responsibility. Instructors who implement technology risk opening up new opportunities for excuse-making, but excuses will be with us as long as there are students. Let's not forget, though, that students will communicate in writing, if conditions are right: for proof, look at the success of e-mail, and especially, Instant Messaging. Above all, don't give up hope!  
 

References:
Moore, R. 2004. "Helping Students Succeed in Introductory Science Courses." Journal of College Science Teaching, February, pp. 14-17.