Neurodiversity and Trauma

 

We likely all have a certain type of neurodiverse learner in our classrooms — the student with a history of childhood trauma. Whereas definitions of trauma vary and our understanding of the effects of trauma are constantly being updated, one thing is clear: Complex trauma physically changes the brain.

Although trauma manifests in many ways, one hallmark effect is the development of an overactive stress-response system. This can lead to hypervigilance, attentional difficulties, distrust of teachers as authority figures, loss of self-efficacy, and a host of other issues that interfere with learning.

The infographic below outlines some practices college instructors can employ to more effectively teach students who have experienced trauma. The good news is these are not instructional “add-ons,” but rather universal best teaching practices that benefit all learners.

View Trauma-Sensitive Teaching Practices for Higher Education on Canva

Do you have a trauma-informed teaching strategy that works well for you? Add it to the comments!

Learning by Living

 

One of the prompts for week two Write 6×6 was to address something newly learned and how that felt. I know there are many ways I learn, and I am not referring to the traditional learning styles of visual, auditory and kinesthetic. Instead I am referring to learning while living and below are my stories.

Just recently I was trying to remove the toilet safety bars from one of my guest bathrooms. I spent at least 45 minutes laying upside down under the commode trying to unscrew the bolts that held the rails in place. Determined to remove the bars, I did what most young adults and teenagers do when they need help with something, I Googled it! I googled “how to remove accessibility toilet rails.” I watched a 40 second video and five minutes later I was VICTORIOUS! Clearly necessity can lead to learning. 🏆💪🏆💪

Sometimes I learn things from my ‘brilliant ideas.’ For example, last week while spring cleaning I had the brilliant idea to wash my bathroom light fixtures in the dishwasher instead of washing and drying them by hand. I figured while the light fixtures were going through the wash/dry cycle in the dishwasher, I could be cleaning other things. Two hours later I learned two things from this brilliant idea. First washing light fixtures in the dishwasher is a horrible idea and second I’m never buying frosted light fixtures again! 🤣 😆 😂 🤣

I also learn unintentionally. Owning a couple of Parson Russell Terriers (commonly known a Jack Russel) requires house rules, patience and consistency. Everyday my dogs are always fed breakfast at 7:00 am., given a carrot snack at noon, and fed dinner at 5:00 pm. Through this consistent scheduling, I’ve unintentionally learned that my dogs now know how to tell time. 🤦🏼‍♀️Most pet owners understand exactly what I am talking about. 🐕😃😃 🐶

Yesterday Beth Eyres (CTLE Co-Director and Residential English Faculty) and I were casually discussing the amount of soaps, lotions, shampoos, conditioners and other hygiene products we have accumulated as gifts from friends. We both jokingly agreed that using the amount of products that have been gifted to us is not possible in two lifetimes… let alone one lifetime!  I told Beth that the cupboard below my bathroom sink is so full of such items that I am afraid to open the cupboard for fear of everything falling out, yet I did not want to throw it away. Beth, with her extensive wisdom of all things GCC, told me I could donate those items to the GCC student pantry, which is an absolute win-win solution in my opinion. Goes to show that no-agenda, casual conversations can be extremely valuable. 💝

Sometimes my learning occurs because I am truly intent on learning.  For example, last week I attended the CTLE AI playground hour and stated I wanted to learn about and how to use an AI image generator.  Thanks to Christine Jones (Residential English Faculty), within 10 minutes I had a free account with hotpot.ai and generated an illustrative image with the prompt “jack russell terrier dog that is mostly white in color with some brown and black colors.” Within 10 seconds that image was populated.  When I changed the directions from illustrative to animation with the same description, the second image populated. 

So while I can’t say that all of my learning ended with a successful conclusion to my initial desired outcome (remember that photo of my light fixtures? and imagine dogs staring at me for 90 minutes prior to dinner!!!), I have benefited from my learning whether it was learning for a necessity, from a brilliant idea, through unintentional behavior, via causal conversations or for specific intent. Some of the learning brings me immediate joy and some not so much! However, while some of the learning might not bring me joy at that moment, it usually makes me smile when I recall the experience.

 If you have a ‘learning by living’ story you want to share, please post the experience in the comment section.  I’m very curious to hear your life lesson and whether it brought you immediate joy or the memory brings a smile to your face now. 

The Chair: A Lesson in Grace (and Gravity)

 

My journey to higher education was circuitous.  Prior to my first job as full-time faculty, I embarked on two entirely different career paths informed by two separate graduate school experiences and punctuated with nine moves across three countries, and four children thrown in for good measure.  In other words, it’s a long story.  A quicker story (you’re welcome) centers on the TV show that best represents my journey in higher education: The Chair. This Netflix series starring the magnificent Sandra Oh chronicles the first year of a newly elected English department chair at a small liberal arts college. 

Anyone who’s served as an academic department chair will recognize the story arc: The department’s first female chair begins the semester with big ideas, brimming with optimism for her department, students, and colleagues, and then literally and figuratively falls out of her chair.  Crises emerge immediately: Budget cuts with an expectation by administration to reduce faculty; Lack of opportunities for diverse faculty; Managing the fallout from an accidental but inappropriate classroom moment by a revered faculty member.  And did I mention the student evaluations that no one seems interested in reading?  And the ongoing struggle over faculty offices?  The Chair works through all of these challenges with humor but doesn’t shy away from the very real and often seemingly conflicting concerns of faculty, students, and college administration. 

When I became a department chair, I worked optimistically but also quickly realized that some days would feel conflicted as I navigated challenges with faculty colleagues who I admired and wanted to support, students who deserved a consistent learning environment in which they could thrive, and our administration who were trying to manage competing resources with transparency.  Sometimes we succeeded. Sometimes we fell short.  But thankfully, throughout my time as department chair, the most constant thread was grace.  Grace extended to frustrated colleagues.  Grace shared with confused or worried students.  And grace offered to me by all. 

Now I have a different role but I haven’t forgotten the healing feeling that accompanies extending and receiving grace.  I hope grace will be the thread that runs through our time here at GCC as well. 

And if you see me fall out of my chair, don’t worry.  I’ll be fine.  But also … help!

AI: The Hype and the Challenge of Critical Thinking

 

Generative AI is here to stay.  In light of this, there are all sorts of voices telling us to use and adapt to this new intellectual terrain.  My goal is this post is to not add to the discussion in regards to how to use the various AI tools.  Rather, my modest goal is to express reservations about the alleged unending glories of the seemingly unalterable “singularity” which is the eschatological dream of some.

My thinking was recently stimulated in this direction by reading Robert J. Marks’ book, Non-Computable You: What You Do That Artificial Intelligence Never Will.  Dr. Marks is Distinguished Professor of Engineering in the Depart of Engineering and Computer Science at Baylor University.  Furthermore, he was the founding Editor-in-Chief of IEEE Transaction on Neural Networks, one of the most prestigious technical journals for peer-reviewed AI research.  In other words, he is well-qualified to offer an assessment of the current state of AI research. 

Marks argues that, though AI is powerful in computing power and does offer some surprises, there is a fundamental gap in terms of true creativity.  In place of the well-known Turing Test, Marks draws attention to the “Lovelace Test” as more effective test for software creativity.  Named after Ada Lovelace (1815-1852), who is considered by many to be the first computer programmer, the Lovelace Test defines software creativity as the ability of a program to do something “that cannot be explained by the programmer or an expert in computer code.”[1]  Marks claims, along with others, that the Lovelace Test has not been met by current AI systems.

In spite of the failure of AI systems to generate true creativity there are all sorts of claims regarding the future of an AI-enhanced humanity.  As Marks notes, “Many worship at the feet of the exciting new technology and without foundation predict all sorts of new miraculous applications; others preach unavoidable doom and gloom.”[2]  In light of this, chapters five and six of Non-Computable You (which by themselves are worth the price of the book!) are taken up with mitigating the “hype.”  Chapter five is entitled, “The Hype Curve” and Marks graphs the dynamic in the following manner:

Marks explains the details:

  • The launch phase.  In the beginning of the hype curve, newly introduced technology spurs expectations above and beyond reality.  Poorly thought-out forecasts are made.
  • The peak-of-hype phase.  The sky’s the limit.  Imagination runs amok.  Whether negative or positive, hype is born from unbridled speculation.
  • The overreaction-to-immature-technology phase.  As the new technology is vetted and further explored, the realization sets in that some of its early promises can’t be kept.  Rather than calmly adjusting expectations and realizing that immature technology must be given time to ripen, many people become overly disillusioned.
  • The depth-of-cynicism phase. Once the shine is off the apple, limitations are recognized.  Some initial supporters jump ship.  They sell their stock and go looking for a new hype to criticize, believe in, or profit from.
  • The true-user-benefits phase. The faithful—often those whose initial expectations included the realistic possibility of failed promise—carry on and find ways to turn the new technology to useful practice.
  • The asymptote-of-reality phase. The technology lives on in accordance with its true contributions.

A number of examples of the hype curve are given by Marks, including the Segway, cold fusion, and String Theory.  Even in the realm of artificial intelligence it seems as those the hype curve begins to resurface again and again.  What to do?

This is where chapter six, “Twelve Filters for AI Hype Detection,” is so instructive and helpful.  This chapter contains a brief, but masterful, demonstration of the teaching of critical thinking.  And it is precisely this virtue of critical thinking that ought to the mainstay of higher education instruction.  This chapter, although devoted to the topic of AI, has a much broader application.  I cannot reproduce Marks’ entire presentation so I will simply quote his summation provided at the end of the chapter.

The Hype List

In a nutshell, here is the list of twelve things to consider when reading AI news:

  1. Outrageous Claims: If it sounds outrageous, maybe it is.  Recognize that AI is riding high on the hype curve and that exaggerated reporting will be more hyperbolic than for more established technologies.
  2. Hedgings: Look for hedge words like “promising,” “developing,” and “potentially,” which implicitly avoid saying anything definite.
  3. Scrutiny Avoidance: Any claim that such-and-such an AI advancement is a few years away may be made with sincerity but avoids immediate scrutiny.  Short attention spans mean that when the sell date on the promise rolls around, few people are likely to notice.  Remember the old proverb often attributed to quantum physicist Niels Bohr: “Prediction is very difficult, especially about the future.”
  4. Consensus: Beware of claims of consensus.  Remember Michael Crichton’s claim that consensus regarding new technology and science is the “first refuge of scoundrels.”
  5. Entrenched Ideology: Many AI claims conform to the writer’s ideology.  AI claims from those adherents to materialism are constrained to exclude a wide range of rational reasoning that is external to their materialistic silos.
  6. Seductive Silos: Claiming AI is conscious or self-aware without term definition can paint the AI as being more than it is.  Seductive semantics is the stuff of marketing.  In the extreme, it can misrepresent.
  7. Seductive Optics and the Frankenstein Complex: AI can be wrapped in a package that tries to increase the perception of its significance.  Unrecognized, the psychological impact of the Frankenstein Complex and the Uncanny Valley Hypothesis can amplify perception far beyond technical reality.  The human-appearing body in which a chatbot resides is secondary to its driving AI.
  8. True-ish: Beware of those tricky headlines and claims that are almost true but intended to deceive.
  9. Citation Bluffing: Web articles and even scholarly journal papers can exaggerate or blatantly misrepresent the findings of others they cite.  Checking primary sources can ferret out this form of deception.
  10. Small-Silo Ignorance: The source of news and opinion always requires consideration, but those speaking outside of their silo of expertise need to be scrutinized with particular care, especially when the speakers are widely admired for their success in their silo.  Don’t be dazzled by celebrity.  This caution applies to famous actors speaking about politics but also to celebrated physicists speaking about computer science.
  11. Assess the Source: I trust content more from the Wall Street Journal than from politically motivated sites like the Huffington Post or yellow journalism sites like the National Enquirer.  But even if the article appears at a site or periodical that has earned a measure of trust, it’s wise to assess the writer of the article.
  12. Who Benefits?: Remember financial greed, relational desires, and the pursuit of power.  These are the three factors used by police detectives in their investigation of crimes.  They are also good points to remember when considering whether a report on AI is true or hype.  Is there a hidden agenda or emotional blind spot?

As mentioned, this hype-detection list is applicable to a wide range of claims and our students can only be strengthened by inculcating these elements of critical thinking.

AI technologies are here to stay and we must navigate this techno-terrain with wisdom.  Educating students about the hype curve as well as the principles of hype detection will equip them to responsibly interact with the new and emerging technologies.


     [1] Robert J. Marks, Non-Computable You: What You Do That Artificial Intelligence Never Will (Seattle: Discovery Institute Press, 2022), 42.  A more rigorous formulation of the Lovelace Test (LT) is found on page 359 in the endnotes: “Artificial agent A, designed by H, passes LT if and only if (1) A outputs o; (2) A’s outputting o is not the result of a fluke hardware error, but rather the result of processes A can repeat; (3) H (or someone who knows what H knows, and has H’s resources) cannot explain how A produced o.”

     [2] Marks, 102.

The Neurodiverse Learner

 

After reviewing some of the amazing resources compiled by our own Roxanna Dewey, this image spoke to me.

It inspired me to try something completely different and challenged my thinking. I have a sister with Downs Syndrome and a nephew with ADHD. This poem is dedicated to them and their relentless pursuit for happiness and belonging.

In the realm of learning, a different kind of pace,

Neurodivergent journey, a unique embrace.

Words may dance, and numbers may speak,

A symphony of learning, where strengths peak.

Challenges woven in the mosaic of thought,

Yet resilience blooms, a lesson well-taught.

Minds may wander through a different haze,

Neurodivergent learner, embracing diverse ways.

Unlocking potentials, like keys in a song,

Learning’s rhythm, where strengths belong.

A canvas of minds, where colors combine,

Neurodivergent learner, let your brilliance shine.

Remember This

 I have always been a lover of words, and as I've grown older, I find myself relying more and more on them as reminders of things I've forgotten. 

orange spiral wire against black background
Photo by Kiarash Mansouri
I lean on words.

I let words encourage me.

Words inspire me.

Words can take me back to a place or time worth remembering.

Words remind me of things my mind and body too easily forget. 

And so my office space has become a place where words surround me. 

There are hand-scrawled messages--names of two students I don't want to forget, the CTLE values, names of mentees, and my section of the honors program alphabet for reviewing their work. 

There are short sayings, inspirational messages I've acquired over the last couple of years given to me or collected by me. They are mostly taped near me, so I can see them daily. 

"Setting goals is the first step toward making the invisible visible." Tony Robbins

"...it's never too late to be whoever you want to be." Eric Roth

"If it's both terrifying and amazing then you should definitely pursue it." Erada

There are small cards on the wall and around my desk that contain messages meant for me on a particular day, and I keep these around me:

"I choose to let go of fear."

"I know that focusing my attention on things I cannot control distracts me from my journey." 

"My ability to conquer my challenges is limitless." 

There is a December calendar image and saying--a cat with bells around its neck. The quote reads, "Jingle all the way, nobody likes a half-assed jingler." And this will stay up even though it's no longer December because.

Finally, there is a small poster, and it was the first put up in my office. It says, "Let that shit go," and it is in my direct line of vision. That is my most important reminder of all. 

My son is learning piano… and so am I.

 

When your child shows interest in something you, as the parent, research their interest and find lessons, environments, or other experts that can help your child pursue those interests. For my son, that means WE are learning how to play the piano. Don’t get me wrong I have wanted to learn how to play the piano since I was in high school but I never made time for it. Having my son show an interest has pushed me to try something new and let me tell you, playing an instrument is not easy.

I have been pushed in so many ways while learning the keys and notes as well as how to read music. Playing the piano with both hands simultaneously while reading music and looking ahead to where your hands need to be for the next note is intense.

My son is learning at his level which means that I can help him practice what each key on the piano corresponds to the note in the music as well as his hand placement. I can even help him read the music that he is learning. I have loved learning this new skill with my son and I have found that the challenge is invigorating. This shared interest has helped us connect and makes our piano lesson days a mother-son adventure in patience and growth.

As I reflect on this current skill we are learning, I have found other things that I have learned that I did not know before having my son and helping him dive into his interests.

For example, I learned how to solve a rubik’s cube after we had an incident where my nephew jumbled up a solved cube and my son cried for hours about how it would never be solved again. I decided that I could learn how to solve the rubik’s cube and in essence stop any future tears on something that, in my opinion, did not need them. That is a win-win in my mom book.

ChatGPT, write a novel about a dystopian society that has been consumed by technology. Include book burning, and the death of creative thought.

When my daughter was a freshman in high school, she was assigned to read Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451. I admitted to her with great shame that I’d somehow navigated two degrees and a life-long love of reading without ever reading this classic. I decided to right this wrong immediately, and so we read the novel in tandem. 

I expected to like it. (It’s “a classic!”) It turns out I loved it. ADHD in tow, I promptly went down a Ray Bradbury rabbit hole, learning all I could about the life he lived and his beliefs about technology and the future. In my “research” (See also: Googling), I learned that he refused to release any of his work in digital form until 2011, a year before his death at age 92. He held a belief so strongly that he said no to publishing his writing in a way that would put his ideas into the minds of millions of people (and generate a significant bit of income to boot). 

How punk rock is that?

Did his protest against the future of technology do anything to stop it? Not in the least. I still respect the stand he took. I’ve been thinking about Bradbury’s boycott of digital publishing a lot lately as I grapple with my own feelings about technology and the future of creative and critical thinking. 

I recently attended a Zoom training hosted by a popular company that offers AI writing assistance. The woman leading the session enthusiastically shared how the AI components offered in their premium education accounts shepherd students past “the fear of the blank page.” Students can use generative AI to give them a list of possible ideas to write about or generate an outline for them to follow. It can check their tone or make a paragraph “stronger.” It can also, given a little nudge, write the whole damn thing for them. 

As a teacher of rhetoric and composition, I believe the point of what I teach is the process, not the finished product. I value my role as a coach, guiding students through the hard work of the writing process, starting with that frightening blank page all the way through to publication. Grappling with hard questions, carving new neural pathways of creative thinking, and showing yourself that you can do a really hard thing and survive it, or better yet, come out a little stronger in the end, are essential life lessons. I feel honored to guide my students through those experiences. 

But now our students can look at that long walk from the start to the finish of a writing assignment and opt to take the AI sky tram instead. They can arrive at their writing destination without breaking a sweat. 

As the future of AI in education breathes down my neck, I find myself wondering, do I want to be a Bradbury, digging in my heels in respect for my deeply-held principles about teaching, learning, and the craft of writing, knowing that my protest will do nothing to change what’s to come? Do I want to give in and say there's nothing I can do to stop what's coming, so let me grade this robot’s essay? Or might there be a space in between? 
~~

So, when I say I read Fahrenheit 451, I mean to say that I listened to it on my phone using the Audible app while communicating several hours each day to and from work, my kids’ two schools, and various music lessons and therapies. (Bradbury rolled his eyes in his grave, I am sure.) And, as I write this, I write it not with a pencil and a pad of paper with a dictionary at arm’s reach but on my laptop computer where I look up synonyms for words, move entire paragraphs around the electronic page, and allow the little red line to catch the spelling and punctuation errors I leave in the wake of my tapping fingers. 

Punk rock, I am not. 

Luckily, I peddle my philosophy of teaching here at GCC, where I am surrounded by educators who are devoted to the craft of teaching and student success. I teach on a campus that values the act of thinking and writing so deeply that every year, faculty and staff volunteer to do the hard work of wrestling ideas out of their heads and into the blogosphere for all to see. I know that my fellow Gauchos are scouting the horizon for that middle path forward into our future with AI in education, and if we don’t spot it, I am sure that we can tramp out a new path together.

Unconsciously Competent

 

I would like to present something that probably 90% of you already know about. But it was new to me when I heard it the first time. It’s called the hierarchy of competence. Like a progression of learning.

This revelation came to me when I was engaged with the Literacy Partner’s Project training in the summer of 2022, at Mesa Community College. The training introduced us to the notion of Threshold Concepts. These are ideas that we as discipline faculty know instinctually, but our students don’t seem to be able to grasp, despite the numerous ways we attempt to explain it to them.

The revelation for me was that from a faculty perspective, competence in a subject does not mean we are gifted in the ability to teach said subject matter. Oftentimes, we are so gifted that we don’t know what we know! One example is teaching using language or acronyms that people might not understand outside of our circle.

In college, my swim coach encouraged me to teach a swim class as a graduate assistant. “How hard can this be?” I thought. Translating how you unconsciously move your body into words is not quite as easy as one might imagine. At times I wanted to say “just do it, it’s easy!”

Fast forward about 30 years to my debut as a student in an adult ballet class…

Just kidding, that’s not me.

What I experienced was a master teacher teaching former ballet students, and ME! While clinging to the bar attempting graceful moves and other things I can’t pronounce, my mind drifted to my swim class at the GCC pool where swimmers come to me for guidance. I teach all levels…some cling to the ladder for dear life, some splash around in frustration, and others swim with ease while hoping for continued improvement.

What I realized was that I was being unconsciously competent as a teacher. It’s great if a student achieves the mastery of unconscious competence, but the teacher should not teach from that platform. I believe that it is more helpful if the instructor is teaching from the platform of consciously competent, or dare I say consciously incompetent?

Why? Two reasons. 1) We should assume the students are not understanding everything we say because some of what we say is coming from a place of mastery, and 2) because if the students see you as a master who does not have room to learn, they can not fully relax in your presence.

When I went back to teaching my swim class after humiliating myself through adult ballet, I came with a newfound appreciation for empathy and listening skills. Swimming does not come naturally to everyone, but everyone can learn to swim. When I can put myself in the shoes of a beginner, I can teach with a completely new and fresh mindset. If you are my student, I will learn from you. Life is a learning journey.

Learning something new as a mindset: GCC’s Culture of Inquiry

 

I am currently taking a course through MiraCosta College entitled “Fundamentals of Futures Thinking.”  One of the learning outcomes is to be able to articulate why futures thinking is important for my institution.  As I mentioned in my remarks during our Spring convocation, I’m deeply interested in the answer to the question, “what if technology breaks humanity’s way?”  What could we be, as a community and an institution, if we intentionally design our future so that every student will succeed?  Wouldn’t this also have a deeply positive impact on faculty and staff, if we were all empowered with the professional development and resources that we need to thrive?

“Futures thinking” necessitates a mindset of curiosity and innovation with a thread of empathy running throughout.  Creating this collective mindset, a culture of inquiry, will require us to build and then nurture an environment in which we routinely ask “what if?” and “what truly matters?” in communities of exploration and practice.    

What tools should we have in our professional development toolbox at GCC to facilitate this culture shift?  I mentioned two at our College Conversations session this week: Interest Based Problem Solving (also called Interest Based Negotiation) and Human-Centered Design.  Many of us have already engaged with IBPS as a foundational principle in our shared governance practice.  Recently, the Administration Collaboration Team (ACT) learned about Human-Centered Design and I’m hoping we can start offering this opportunity college-wide in the coming months. 

What other tools do we need to build GCC’s culture of inquiry?  Which communities of practice can we create?  I’m asking not rhetorically, but intentionally, to collect ideas and identify champions in this work. 

Drop me a note at tiffany.hernandez@gccaz.edu or stop by my office (A-102) or catch me as we walk across campus or after a meeting sometime soon.  I’m ready to start this conversation.  Who’s with me?

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