The third part of my AI Net(work) is the team here at the CTLE. I’ve been able to feel more confident about exploring AI because of several resources.

The Artificial Intelligence and Spreading Misinformation Canvas course was really helpful. So was the Artificial Intelligence and Bias course. Both allowed me to explore, read, and reflect in a supportive environment. Keep your eyes open for future opportunities!

Beth Eyres is one of the best brainstorming buddies there is. She dropped in one day as my students were working on their ChatGPT prompts. Next thing I know she’s urging me to look at Perplexity AI. It’s a real-time fact-checked search engine with citations, perfect for ENG102.

Great. Now I have one more thing to learn to keep ahead of the curve! (slight sarcasm implied . . . I can do this!)

As eCourses Faculty Lead, Alisa Cooper keeps reminding me about using Packback and Grammarly to support my students. Each resource is free and supported with training. For example, Packback had a session yesterday focused on academic honesty in the world of AI.

There is no shortage of support as I work to help my students explore the different tools in the world of AI.

Our ENG102 motto is “good thinking starts with good questions”, and I hope you’ve seen that my team of Michelle Petry, Christine Jones, Beth Eyres, Alisa Cooper, and the entire CTLE support structure help me find answers to those questions.

It doesn’t feel quite so scary up here on the AI tightrope. Join us!

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.

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.

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.

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.