Category Archives: Write6x6

Let’s Flow: Teaching and Yoga

As faculty, I know I am a jack of all trades and a master of none. I need to be: flexible but not too flexible, organized but not over the top, creative but not unclear, curious but in asking the right questions, innovative to a point, authentic but…there’s no but here…authentic always, problem-solving for all the things, calm but energized, centered, knowledgeable in my content area and everything higher ed, patient but firm with deadlines, demonstrate a love of learning for life, adaptable especially in a pandemic-laced world, engaged but know when to pull back, empathetic but be wary of emotional overload, prepared always for anything, positive even if personally I don’t feel it, vulnerable but not oversharing, understanding but being resolute with my syllabus, equitable, dedicated but create a work/life balance, model integrity, have high expectations but be realistic, and include a sense of humor but be sure it’s warranted. It is no wonder there was a recent article in The Chronicle about higher ed being exhausted. Unequivocally, the role of “mom, mama, mommy, MO-OM,” to three beautiful boys for twenty years has enhanced my teaching practice more than anything else, and the parallels of parenting to the practice of teaching are undeniable. If I choose that route, this article will literally write itself (ya best watch out, ChatGPT).

Instead, in true Roxanna fashion, I tend to overthink things sometimes and take the road less traveled. My friends and I joke that I should wear a shirt with the phrase “Learning the hard way since the 1970s” skating across the front. So, here goes. 

Seven years ago, as a newly divorced forty-something with three kids, I knew I had to look out for myself by getting physically and mentally healthy. The gym became my solace and sanctuary, and hiking became my church. While I found myself molding into the shape my portly younger self would have envied, I also turned into the Tin [Wo]Man with cramps in odd places and muscle tightness. My sister recommended yoga. Yoga was something I thought about frequently, but quite frankly, did not have the cajones to try. Plus, it wasn’t JUST yoga. It was HOT YOGA.

A studio down the street was offering a trial of classes for a couple of weeks, so I figured why not. The first piece of advice I received was to be sure to arrive hydrated; I made sure to chug down a bunch of water. The second piece of advice was to be sure to have a yoga mat and some kind of towel to put on top of it to soak up the sweat; I had a yoga mat purchased cheaply from TJ Maxx and a beach towel. When I arrived, ready to rock with my water bottle and towels, the yoga teacher recommended I place my mat by the door. I thought, “No problem, I’ve got this.” The studio began filling with sinewy, spindly-toned yogis with perfect yoga attire, yoga mats, and yoga towels. They make yoga towels? Yeah, I didn’t know about that, either. Let’s just say the first class, I did not expect to sweat my body weight, and I had no idea what I was doing. The instructor would say foreign things that sounded something like this: “Plank pose, exhale, come down, hands by your shoulders, inhale, fold your toes back, push up, up dog, fold your toes under, exhale, down dog. This is our vinyasa. It’s optional.” 

To say I could hardly keep up is an understatement; I went through all my water and looked on in awe at the slightly perspiring yogis in front of me doing full splits and flowing through their flows like sugar plum fairies. I dropped to my beach towel mat in a pool of my own sweat, puffy red face, snot, and sweat and tears all blending together, heart racing, trying to catch a breath in the 104-degree humid air. It is not a hyperbole when I say I was surprised I made it out alive. I thought if I died as a melted gummy pool on the mat, there would be worse ways to leave this life. At the end of the class, I bolted for the door, if only to feel a brief relief from the cooler air outside the death steam of the room. Afterward, despite the terrible headache invading my brain, this practice intrigued me, and I was eager to learn how to control my breath and start to heal myself from the inside out. I went back.

With determination to learn the sequence of movements to reach shavasana: warm-up, awkward series, balancing series, flows, and floor poses, I began to attend regularly. Hot yoga was the total magic formula for not only looking but FEELING healthy from the inside out; I needed it, and it unexpectedly began to enhance my teaching practice, particularly when I consider the guidance I picked up along the way:

1. Stay on your mat.

In yoga, the best place to be is on the mat. I can always come down to child pose or lay down, but the coolest place in the room is on the mat. In teaching, I use this to remember to focus on the things I can control within the walls of my classroom. 

2. Don’t give your practice away.

In yoga, it is important to see myself in the mirror and create a focal point where my focus is directed and supported with a mantra like “Strong. Here. Now,” especially in balancing poses. If I’m looking elsewhere, then I lose my focus, and I will lose my pose. In teaching, I have learned to forge my own path, focus, and do what is best for my students in my classroom.

3. Your breath will always guide you.

In yoga, the breath is used to guide the practice. With inhales and exhales, the body bends and stretches into complex poses. If the breath becomes choppy or unmanageable, it is time to take a break. In life and in teaching, if I find myself becoming anxious or losing my breath, I know it is time to take a break or a pause. 

4. Take what you need.

With yoga, it is important to feel good after practice. If I push myself too hard, then I will likely end up out of breath and crying in the car after practice. It is imperative to find the balance in the practice and be mindful of what my body needs, even if I think I should be better or be able to do more. With teaching, I know that if I feel rushed, then my students certainly do. It is essential that everyone leaves feeling well-equipped and prepared to manage each week’s workload and assignments. 

5. “You have worked so hard to become the person you are today; recognize that and honor it. You wouldn’t be you without the past versions of yourself, so cheer on your present self because you are building the foundation for your future self.” – from yoga teacher Ashley

In yoga, the present moment is the focus. The external stressors off of the mat, outside of the studio are not front of mind during practice. Additionally, it is important to give myself grace and recognize the effort and work I have put forth to be able to complete the entire practice without taking a break. In my career, I wouldn’t be the teacher I am today without the versions of me from the past, and I know I will continue to build my present to fortify my future.

Today, after hundreds of classes, my yoga practice remains imperfect, yet it is my sanctuary—a place where I can always reconnect with myself. After all, it is PRACTICE. As Tolle reminds us, I surrender to what is, allowing it to work for me instead of against me, and this yoga journey has certainly enhanced my teaching and my life.

A Reflection Using Kolb

For this week, one of the suggestions for the Write 6×6 blog was a reflection on how we have changed through the last five years. I have a slightly different approach to this reflection, quite by accident.  I have taken the Kolb Educator Role Profile Survey every few years over this time period.  I thought it would be interesting to reflect on the changes with you. 

When I first started at GCC, I took the Kolb survey, and the results stated that I was 18% coach, 21% facilitator, 31% expert, and 30% evaluator. I was not surprised by my results because my work experiences before GCC were in a university setting with more research and publication expectations and a general expectation of lecture-style courses. I have always been a maverick, keeping a more learner-centered approach to my classes, but I can see the years of experience influencing those early scores.

The Kolb Educator Role Profile describes four role positions—Facilitator, Expert, Evaluator, and Coach. Educators take on these roles as they help learners maximize learning by moving through the four stages of the experiential learning cycle. In general, educators take on two roles over others because of their educational philosophy, personal teaching style, and setting expectations.  As explained in the report I received: 

Facilitators help learners in connecting with and reflecting on their personal experiences. Facilitators prioritize building personal relationships with learners and fostering an open and welcoming environment that stimulates intrinsic motivation and self-discovery. This role often involves leading small group discussions, nurturing learners’ interests, and encouraging self-understanding.

Experts help learners organize and connect their reflections to the knowledge base of the subject matter. They adopt an authoritative, reflective style. They often teach by example, modeling and encouraging critical thinking as they systematically organize and analyze the subject, encouraging critical thinking as they systematically dissect and analyze the subject matter. This knowledge is typically shared through lectures and texts, helping learners to understand and organize their thoughts.

Evaluators help learners help learners master the application of knowledge and skill to meet performance requirements. With an objective, results-oriented style, they outline the knowledge requisites for quality performance and design activities to measure learners’ understanding and skills.

Coaches help learners apply knowledge to achieve their personal goals. They adopt a collaborative, supportive, encouraging style, often working one-on-one with individuals to help them learn from experiences in their life context. They assist in creating personal development plans while providing constructive feedback on performance.

As an educator, I have dedicated myself to improving my teaching practices. Regular professional development and reading updates in my field are an important part of being the best educator I can be. So, when the opportunity arose to participate in the Reimagine Teaching and Learning program offered by the CTLE, I jumped at it. As a part of the Reimagine experience, I took the Kolb Educator Role Profile Survey in February 2020. My time in the Reimagine program clearly made a difference. My results changed; I was at 19% coach, 34% facilitator, 19% expert, and 28% evaluator. The influence of those high-impact practices also began to expose me to new insights as an educator. 

Then came the pandemic. I adopted new practices and new approaches. I started actively checking in on the students, inviting them to share their emotional state. I started inviting the students to complete a weekly reflective journal that allowed me to provide a back-channel of support. I started using Peardeck, a slide deck skin that allows students to interact with the slides and provides formative assessment and feedback opportunities. I got rid of group and pair work to prevent the risk of germs. I adopted a microphone because amplified speech is easier to hear, especially when wearing a mask. I recorded and live-streamed all my lectures for the students who got COVID-19 but wanted to participate. Some of those practices I have kept. Others, including the microphone and the recordings, I have ditched. I have brought back group and pair work in my in-person classes. My classes have changed drastically in the last five years. So has my Kolb profile. 

In April of 2022, I took the Kolb survey again. My results stated I was 28% coach, 19% facilitator, 19% expert, and 34% evaluator. I took the 2022 survey while re-taking the Reimagine experience and once again refreshed myself on high-impact teaching practices. When I took the survey one more time in 2024 for a research study, my results changed again. This time, I was 31% coach, 15% facilitator, 25% expert, and 28% evaluator. 

The changes in the dominant education roles are a fascinating shift over time. I don’t know how much of the change has been connected to the Reimagine program, influenced by the supportive professional learning community I have been a part of, or related to the changes brought about by the pandemic and the alterations I had to make to my teaching. I do know that I am not done changing yet.    

I Gaucho Back!

I am a Gaucho.

My educational path was a rocky one.  Many years ago, I became the first person in my family to attend college. When I announced that I was going to go to college, my mother asked “why?”.  There was no expectation of college in my family and as such, no support. Family members would say, “college isn’t for people like us”.  

I was determined. I knew that college was an opportunity to expand my horizons. I knew college would allow me to go places I would otherwise not have the opportunity to explore. I was finishing high school, had not yet graduated, and started my first class at Glendale Community College. As a first-generation first-year college student, I struggled to cover the cost of classes and books.  In my second semester at GCC, I met a man who swept me off my feet.  In my third semester at GCC, we got engaged. We both worked while paying our way through part-time college classes. Two years later, we got married and had our first child. I made the college honor’s list the semester my son was born. My second son was born during the winter break, a year later. 

Then, it was time to transfer to a university, and I hit a major roadblock.  I applied and was rejected by ASU. My husband was accepted and we started making our plans. I had given up, thinking that I wouldn’t get into a university and that my family had been right; college just wasn’t for people like me. That was okay, I guess. I had a young family to take care of and I could support my husband as he attended classes. 

But on an off chance, my husband suggested I try applying to NAU. So, we both applied to NAU and were accepted. In the first year, my daughter was born during Thanksgiving break and I was back in time to take my final exams. In two years, I completed a dual BA, graduating with honors, and was accepted into the MA program. I finished my Master’s in one year by accelerating my courses. My degree allowed me to take my family on a decade long tour of the world, living in China, Japan, and the Middle East. Education was exactly what I needed to explore the world.  

Without Glendale Community College, I would not be the person I am today. I would not have the experiences I have had, been to the places I have been, or met the people I have met. While I am proud of my time as an NAU student, in my heart I know that I am first and foremost, a Gaucho.   

Everything’s Fine! 

When the dumpster is about to ignite into an inferno try a brain break. 

Brain breaks can be a multitude of different activities:

Activities such as:

  • stacking cups in silence with only a rubber band and a few pieces of string.
  • keeping a balloon up in the air by only using your elbows.

Quick games such as:

  • sum fingers where you add the sum of the finger you and your partner hold up. 
  • bear, hunter, lady which is a full body rock paper scissors.

Thoughtful questions such as:

  • What would you do if you woke up 6 inches taller? Would this be a good or a bad thing?
  • If you could travel back in time, when and where would you travel?

Brain breaks are an opportunity for your students to connect with each other and disconnect from the content. This provides the instructor with about 3-5 minutes to pivot before you or the class melts down. I like to pull these out when I am struggling with technology in the classroom or find a kink in the flow of my lesson plan that needs to be addressed before we move on.

A Dynamic Lesson

When I was flitting around as a dance major in college with dreams of becoming a Rockette, I actually was learning how to be a better teacher. Of course, I didn’t know it at the time. I was too busy washing my leg warmers and rewatching Fame and Flashdance on a VHS loop.

In my dance program, I was required to take a series of courses in choreography and Labanotation, a system for recording human movements with the use of symbols. And the one message I remember from these courses is, “Make sure you pay attention to dynamics in your choreography!”

One dictionary definition of dynamics reads, “the forces or properties which stimulate growth, development, or change within a system or process.” If I could channel my dance instructors now, they would say something like this:

You want to continually shift the energy of your movements at appropriate times. You can breathe life into your performance by changing up some slow movements with perhaps a sudden stop, followed by some staccato steps. Varying the type of movement, right when it is about to expire, keeps the audience on their toes, waiting to see what change will come next. Avoid monotony at all costs!

Without being consciously aware of it, I use dynamics in my teaching. In other words, I sense when the energy in the classroom needs a shift. I realize that attention spans are fickle, and a change in the volume of my voice or the speed of my speech can be indicators of such a shift. Or, when I move around the room, the tempo of my students’ cognitive processing is altered. (Even more so when I dance through the aisles.)

Six main movement qualities are used to describe dynamics in dance. These qualities include swinging, suspended, vibratory, sustained, percussive, and collapsed. In a lesson, I may swing from one topic to the next and then suspend the momentum with a question. The students might engage in a physical demonstration that involves vibratory or percussive movements, and then collapse in laughter when we’re done.

Another form of dynamism is changing how students are processing information in the lesson. An example of this is the 10:2 rule: For every 10 minutes of lecture, give students at least two minutes to process the information in a different way, perhaps through conversations with classmates or a physical activity. (For more information on the 10:2 strategy, see this Teaching Tip.)

Deciding to change up your lesson with different dynamic activities is the easy part. Knowing when to make the change in dynamics is trickier. In dance, the choreographer has to decide how long to perform a certain type of movement before a change is needed. That sensitivity to when something has gone on too long – AKA the ability to read the energy in the room – is an essential teaching skill.

It is said that teachers are many things, and the title “choreographer” can be added to that list. Part of the art of teaching involves creating a dynamic flow to our lessons. We can envision the dynamics of our lessons like a balloon that needs to be kept aloft. Sometimes a small tap is all that is needed, and at other times we have to dive for the save. But all the while there is an energetic and unpredictable bouncing of the balloon that captures and sustains our attention.

Building Community and Connection from Day One: Week 2

When I first started teaching in 1999, one of my colleagues, a beloved veteran teacher, said, “Sully [my last name was Solley, but she had the kind of personality that was not to be corrected], you need to get that First Days of School book by the Wongs.” So I did (I still have it in my office). At the time, everything in it seemed to be common sense, and I guess it was–on paper. But once I was in the trenches, facing 32 high school seniors, with all their eyes locked on me, those “commonsense” strategies felt anything but simple.

Wong believes the first day of class is the most important day in a student’s education, and over the years, I’ve come to wholeheartedly agree with this. It blows my mind that some of my college professors would literally read the syllabus to us on the first day of class. Can you imagine such an offense? The first day of class for me now is about setting the tone of the class, having students do what I expect them to do for the rest of the semester, and of course, building community. I start with reading their names aloud and telling them to correct me if I say them incorrectly. Next, I have them sign-in as that is a procedure that happens every class meeting. From there, we do introductions, and I offer opportunities for them to “break the ice” before we dig into the content for the first week. Here are more activities I do to build community. Some are better suited for in-person classes, but they can all be modified for any modality.

1. M&M Ice Breaker (I learned this from teaching a learning community with the masterful Sherry Wangen): Students receive mini packets of M&M candies. On the overhead is a list of sentence starters that match individual M&M colors. Students need to finish the sentence of the first color M&M they draw. I go first, then students complete the exercise and share at their table teams. A couple examples of the sentence starters are: “I am here at GCC to…” and “A song I’m into right now is….”

2. Pear Deck: I use this Google extension because my students can interact in real time with the content, and it costs nothing. It is low stakes and works as a formative assessment throughout my class. Additionally, students can anonymously ask any question, and I’ll answer it. It also allows me to offer temperature checks (How are you feeling today?), positive mindset activities (What is one thing you like about yourself?), 3-2-1 entry/exit tickets, and cognitive breaks.

3. Introduction Discussion: Students can introduce themselves to the class. I offer a few prompts for them to respond to. For a bonus, they can add a study strategy they use or a motivational or inspirational song. 

4. Class Playlist: I take the songs students list in the intro discussion or vocabulary-building discussion and make a class playlist on Spotify. I embed it into an announcement in Canvas, and students can access it at their leisure. I may play it at the beginning of class, too, as I typically have some kind of music happening in class, from jazz guitar to Motown.

5. Sense of Belonging: At the top of every Canvas course home page, I have three sayings: You are not alone. You have potential. We are going to do this together. This emerged from the Cohen research I brought to the table at GCC a few years ago.

6. Setting Norms: The second class meeting, we discuss norms, and complete a norm setting activity for the class. These norms are posted at the top of the class homepage as reminders. 

7. Snacks: In my culture, we show we care through cooking and food. While I don’t have time to whip up a home-cooked feast for my students, I do show I care by bringing in a tray of snacks—usually Costco bars, maybe some fruit or candy. Students seem to really like them: “These are delicious!”, “Just like my mom gets!”, “Thank you!”

8. Vulnerability: I practice vulnerability with my students. When I’m writing with them, I share my personal experiences and keep it real by acknowledging that life has its ups and downs. It creates a warm and authentic atmosphere where we can all connect and support each other.

These are just a few of the ways I’ve evolved my practice to build community and create that Wong-inspired first day magic in my classroom.

Doorways and Thresholds: Week 1

Did you know that the brain is consistently seeking out success? It seeks common patterns and familiarity to make sense of situations. If the brain is trained to seek success, then it will find it. This is why athletes will meditate and visualize catching a game-changing interception, hitting a grand slam, or making a half-court winning buzzer beater before a performance. Of course, versions of success vary by individual, and unfortunately, if someone believes that they will fail, then they will because that is what the brain deems successful.

Every time we walk through a doorway, we have a chance to reset our minds and map out the new space for success. You may have heard about the “doorway effect” or experienced it when you’ve walked through a doorway only to forget what you were looking for in the new room. This brief disruption of thought can be transformed into a powerful opportunity—a moment to refocus and set clear intentions for achieving our goals. Our brain forgets the past when we walk through a threshold, so that it can make sense of the new situation or circumstance. Turn this into a metaphor for whatever you’d like.

This is where the concept of “doorway affirmations” enters the chat. Michael Phelps used the strategy of doorway affirmations as a strategy to help with his anxiety and depression. When speaking about the technique, Phelps said that every time he walked through any doorway, he would say something positive to himself. Examples of these optimistic glimmers are: “I’ve got this,” “I’m awesome,” “I’m so smart,” “I’m amazing,” “I’m beautiful,” “I’m loved,” “I’m confident,” “I’m enough,” and “I’m worthy.” Essentially, we can harness the brain’s natural tendency to reset, a powerful mental shift, at every doorway, as a way to prime ourselves for success, leave behind doubts, and remind us of our own capabilities.

In addition to offering a moment to visualize success and focus on goals, I’d like to think my current workspace entrance offers a welcoming environment to both students and colleagues. On the door itself, I have posters and data about censorship and the Top Ten Banned Books of 2023. To the right of the door, in the floor-length window, I have a picture of me with the very first class I taught at GCC to remind me of their curiosity, determination, and ganas. Accompanying that picture, there is a cool Route 66-esque Write6X6 sticker, a group selfie of me and colleagues at one of Lori’s infamous Holiday Happenings, my Student Support Hours, a sign that says, “I Teach. What’s your superpower?” a wooden painting of a Catrina with a crown of red, yellow, and purple paper marigolds, my teaching philosophy in a word cloud, a censorship: the assassination of an idea bookmark, GCC Values, a thank you card, a Foster Advocate sign, and the printed poem, “Anyway”:

People are often unreasonable, illogical and self centered;
Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;
Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies;
Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;
Be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;
Build anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;
Do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough;
Give the world the best you’ve got anyway.

Right above the doorway to my office entrance, I have my lucky horseshoe hanging, “GOOD LUCK, ROXANNA” – a treasure from one of my adventures as a kid at Girl Scout camp or Rawhide. Every day I walk through the doorway, my affirmation might be, “Let’s do this,” or “I can do hard things,” or “Today is going to be a great day,” and I hope my colleagues and students do the same.

I Failed ENG102 – Why DEI Matters

I tell my students all the time: You can accomplish your educational goals, even if you fail ENG102 the first time. If I can do it, so can you. And when things get tough, I’m always there to remind them: You can do it, but you have to want it.

When I took ENG102 at Phoenix College, my instructor was an old white dude. Yep, I said it. He was so out of touch with me, a young Black athlete, and many of the other students. Not once did he encourage me. He just stood at the front of the class, lecturing about literature written by, well, more old white dudes. I just couldn’t relate.

Being the precocious (read: smart-mouthed) student I was, I jokingly asked him one day if any Black people had written anything in the 1800s. His response? A dismissive suggestion that I check if the college offered an African American literature class—because apparently, the idea of including William Wells Brown, Frederick Douglass, or Frances E.W. Harper in his curriculum was out of the question.

Needless to say, that class didn’t end well for me. I ended up retaking ENG102 at Yavapai College, where the course focused on writing rather than literature. I was relieved. I swore I’d never take another literature class again. Ironically, I later majored in English Literature at Cal State Bakersfield. Ha! But that’s a story for another day.

The real takeaway here is this: Most students don’t expect to pursue the subject they struggled with the most. But my experience gives me a unique perspective on the frustration students feel when they’re forced to take a class that doesn’t seem relevant to them. I get it. I can relate.

That’s why I work hard to make the topics, readings, and visuals in my classes relevant to the students sitting in front of me (or behind a screen online). I want every student to feel welcome, to know they belong, and to see themselves reflected in the material we cover. I take my commitment to diversity, equity, and inclusion seriously, not because it’s trendy, not because it’s a buzzword, but because I know what it feels like when a class leaves you out.

This is why DEI matters in education. It’s not about politics. It’s not about checking a box. It’s about making sure every student, regardless of their background, sees a pathway to success. Faculty have a responsibility to create learning environments where students feel valued, supported, and represented. If we fail to do that, we fail our students. And that is something none of us can afford.

For The Love Of Dogs

If you know me, you know I love dogs. Actually, I love all animals, but let’s be honest, dogs are my absolute favorite. My husband and I take our pups everywhere, including our favorite watering hole, because what’s a cold beer or mimosa without a little dog hair in it? Also, please take a moment to appreciate my “Dog Mom” hat—it’s basically my crown.

Now, being the devoted Dog Mom that I am, I even found a way to incorporate my dogs into my Psychology 101 class. Enter Sophia, my adorable, all-white pup, who just so happens to be deaf, but can still perform an impressive lineup of tricks. She’s living proof that positive reinforcement works, which makes her the perfect assistant for my lecture on reinforcement and punishment. The plan? Bring her to class, let her show off, and wow my students with her talent. Easy, right? WRONG.

The Great Trick-Tastrophe

My class starts at 5:30 p.m., so earlier that day, I brought Sophia to campus with me because timing is everything when you’re managing both psychology lessons and a diva dog’s schedule. Naturally, I spent the afternoon parading her around like a proud stage mom, showing off her tricks to colleagues while showering her with treats. Because, obviously, when you’re a star, you deserve unlimited snacks.

Fast forward to class time. I set the stage, tell my students to prepare for an awe-inspiring demonstration, grab a treat, and give Sophia the hand signal for a trick. The students lean in, ready for the magic to happen. And then…NOTHING.

Sophia stares at me, looks at the treat….then casually turns her head away like I just asked her to file my taxes. Okay, no problem. Maybe she’s just getting her bearings. I move to face her, give her another hand signal. She turns away again.

I try once more. Nada. Zilch. Zero effort from the star of the show.

Meanwhile, my students are giving me the look, you know the one that says, Uh-huh, sure, lady. Your dog does tricks. And I’m the Queen of England.

At this point, panic sets in. I’m flailing. I start doing the tricks myself, demonstrating each one as if my body flopping around like a fish out of water is somehow going to inspire Sophia to follow suit. ‘Sophie sit!’ I desperately request with exaggerated hand signals, then I sit down on the floor explaining this is what Sophie would do. “She rolls over!”  I roll over. “She spins!” I spin in a dizzying circle. I am now fully performing my own dog’s tricks in front of a room full of bewildered college students!!! I’ve become the entertainment.

The Peanut Butter Plot Twist

At last, I accept defeat. I remind my class that I train Sophia solely with positive reinforcement, no punishment, just rewards. And even though she didn’t perform, she still deserves a special treat.

So, I pull out the good stuff – a peanut butter bone, her all-time favorite.

Suddenly, Sophia’s head whips around so fast I’m pretty sure she invented a new canine dance move. She sniffs the air, locks eyes on that peanut butter prize, and BAM – she’s in full performance mode! Trick after trick, with the energy of a dog who had definitely not just spent the last ten minutes ignoring me.

The students go from skeptical to cheering in seconds, applauding Sophia’s newfound enthusiasm. And me? I take the opportunity to turn this epic disaster into a teachable moment: positive reinforcement only works if the reward is actually valuable. After a day of tiny treats, Sophia was over it. But the legendary peanut butter bone? Now that was worth working for.

The Moral of the Story

Sometimes, no matter how well you plan, things fall apart in a spectacularly humiliating fashion. But when disaster strikes, just roll with it – literally, if necessary. Because at the end of the day, the show must go on! And if you can’t convince your dog to perform, at least be willing to steal the spotlight yourself.

Walking the AI Tightrope with a Net(work) of Colleagues (Part 2 of 3)

As I continue to navigate the slippery slope of AI, a second member of my amazing (net)work is Christine Jones.

As an individual, she’s a wealth of ideas and resources. One of her greatest talents is her commitment to continuous learning and her scientific approach to implementing new ideas. She’ll try Perplexity with one class but not another. She’ll utilize Claude AI with another group. She is both student and data focused which makes a powerful combination. When I ask if she likes a new tool, her responses are specific and meaningful.

As a team member, she is conscientious and accountable. She, Michelle Petry, and I meet regularly to develop resources that we’ll soon be sharing with all of you, courtesy of the Maricopa OER Development grant funding. She is always ready to work and adds to our regular collaboration.

Our project focuses on the exploration and utilization of AI in the community college classroom.  As with all OER, we are actively engaged in the creation, revising, remixing, and reusing of existing OER materials. Many of these materials are currently being used by GCC students.  For example, ENG102 students use existing OER such as Media Literacy and Deepfakes OpenCourseWare from MIT. The proposed project will result in the creation of at least fifteen (15) interactive  H5P assignments in a MOD Pressbook format.  In addition, Canvas modules will be created to facilitate sharing of materials and student assignments.

For novices like me, an H5P is an interactive way to share digital content. Think “read the article and answer some questions to check your understanding.”

With Christine’s support, Michelle and I are on our way to being able to make our own H5P assignments. We can’t keep up with her, though! Every time she finds a new idea, she is quick to volunteer to craft it into a shareable resource. For example, she’s now creating an H5P to use with an article exploring the reasons we should avoid AI.

As busy as she is with her own projects, her work as e-courses rep for the English department, and one of our faculty senators, she’s always helpful. You can reach her at christine.jones@gccaz.edu or in her office in HT2.

Our OER project is titled AI is the Real Deal. Guess what? So is Christine Jones!