Resources

Regardless of how one may feel about online learning (now, during COVID-19, thrust upon us, the willing and unwilling), admittedly it is now a vital and critical academic and professional skill. Helping students become proficient in online learning has arguably become as important as mastering academic content in whatever discipline one teaches. One way to help students become more proficient at online learning is to actively assess their performance in online discussion forums. Most instructors at least provide a list of minimum expectations, something like: Post at least two entries for every forum; avoid non-substantive posts (“I agree”); post by a deadline for a session; cite references, respond to questions from the professor, etc. Some instructors place limits on word count. Some insist on complete sentences and proper grammar. In addition to assessing engagement with the course content (academic concepts and course texts, for example), and checking for adherence to minimum expectations as noted above, instructors can help students become more proficient online learners by assessing metacognition student performance, those transferable skills and competencies that will serve students well as they become lifelong online learners. Metacognitive assessment helps students become critically aware of themselves as thinkers and learners. Robert E. MacDonald refers to these as part of the “informal observations” [i] that instructors engage in as part of the evaluation of student learning. Here are examples of metacognition student performance in online discussion forums that you can look for, assess, and for which you can provide feedback to students: The consistency in the amount and quality of their posts. The quality and kinds of questions students ask during online discussions. The cooperative peer learning skills students demonstrate in discussion forums. The manner in which they receive directions and challenges from the instructor. The way students respond to questions from the professor and other students. Their ability to follow through on assignments and activities to completion. Their level of initiative in asking for help, seeking information, offering critique, and questioning assumptions. Their ability to uncover their own bias and prejudices. Their ability to recognize their misunderstanding and demonstrate corrective thinking. Their ability to come up with novel and original examples. The quality of their written skill in expressing and explaining ideas. Their ability to manage their time and participate in online discussion forums, as well as complete assignments, promptly. It is no longer enough to help our students master academic content related to our particular scholarship. Part of the work of teaching in this technological age is helping our students become better learners, and that includes becoming more adept at learning in online and virtual environments. Notes [i] Robert E. MacDonald, A Handbook for Beginning Teachers: Facing the Challenge of Teaching in Today’s Schools (New York, NY: Pearson, 1999).

Effective online teaching requires applying sound pedagogy, the same as those practiced in the classroom experience. One such practice is induction–and, you can never overdo it. When I was in parish ministry, our staff met weekly to do worship planning. In addition to reviewing text, sermon topic, music, hymns, and other components of the worship service we would always decide on the questions, “how will we enter the room?” and "how will we close the service?" That is, how and when would the worship leaders (choir, pastoral staff, etc.) enter the worship space so as to lead the congregation into the worship experience? How would we signal the "start" of the worship experience? We wanted to “set” the tone, affect, and focus of the worship experience by creating expectancy at the start, helping the congregants know how and what to pay attention to during the service, and moving them toward response and closure at the end of the service. The same principles apply to learning. In a learning environment, induction (or, “set induction”) refers to those actions by the teacher designed to introduce the students to the learning experience, be it a course of study or a lesson. Induction helps the learners relate their experiences to the objectives of the lesson or course (building on what they know to acquire what they do not). Using set induction will orient your students to the course (or lesson) and put them in a receptive frame of mind that will facilitate learning. Two purposes of set induction are: (1) to focus student attention on the lesson or course–-its purpose and relevance to the student; and (2) to create an organizing framework for the ideas, concepts, principles, or information which is to follow. Effective application of set induction will provide important instructional functions for your students. It will serve as an advanced organizer, create expectancy, and identify why the content is meaningful, which is an important motivator for learning. In a classroom setting many instructors use the course syllabus as a tool for course induction. Walking your students through a well-designed course syllabus will provide a framework for helping your students answer the Ws that are anxiously rattling around in their minds: who, what, when, where, and, how? Admittedly, most instructors do not take enough time using this technique. Which is why you may get asked several times during the course, “When is the final exam due, again?” Or, "what should I write my paper on?" When setting up your online course environment practice I.R.A. and use the Ws. I.R.A. stands for “Information Reduces Anxiety.” When your students begin a course, they have a level of anxiety and are looking to understand what the course is about and what will be expected of them as a learner. Front load your course site with as much information as your students need to answer their questions; but no more than that. When you design your introduction/orientation page, embed the Ws (who, what, when, where, why, and how). These are the questions for which they are seeking answers. As your course progresses, cut back on the course orientation content, reduce content coverage, and increase learner engagement activities and opportunities. Does your course introduction or orientation answer the following for the students? Who is this course for? What is this course about? What is its focus? What is the big idea? What are the expected student learning outcomes? What background knowledge, skills, or competencies does the student need to succeed in the course? What does the student need to do first to begin the course? When will this course start? When will it conclude? When are the assignments due? Where can the student find information and resources (course syllabus, schedule, handouts, readings, rubrics, links, etc.). Why is this course meaningful? Why is the focus of study important? How will the student successfully complete the course? How will the student demonstrate attainment of learning or mastery of skill? How will the student's work be assessed?

In a recent survey about the past spring 2020 semester, 65% of the college students surveyed said that they had much fewer opportunities to collaborate with other students when classes went online. 50% said that the online classes did worse, or much worse, at making them feel included as members of their classes. Honestly, I’m surprised that the numbers weren’t higher! I worry about how we’ll build community in our classes in the fall when we’ll have to start classes remotely or with strict social distancing rules in place. I worry about the quality of learning in my discussion-based courses because I know it decreases sharply whenever class members do not trust me and each other enough to have real conversations. And I worry about my first-year students because they don’t have any existing relationships on campus. How lonely will their first semester in college be, and how damaging will that be to their learning and their mental health? Helping our students build relationships with each other and with us may be our most important task in the fall. So how can we do it? Here are my best ideas so far: Stable small groups I’ll divide my classes into groups of 6 to 8 students, and they will work together regularly for at least the first month. They will: Interview each other and introduce each other to the rest of the group in a blog post, a piece of art, a podcast, or video. Post responses to course materials to a group discussion board, respond to each other’s posts, and build on that interaction in class discussion. Review and respond to group members’ paper drafts. Meet with me or the TA during office hours as a group. Meet with me as a group during class to discuss course content (using a tutorial format). Reflect on and trouble-shoot group dynamics: What role do you play in your group? Who talks the most? The least? How can you improve things? Develop explicit norms for how to interact with each other. Keep an eye on each other and let me know if somebody is struggling. Create space to discuss how they are doing College students across the nation were already struggling with mental health issues like depression and anxiety and, not surprisingly, early data indicates that the past six months have made it worse. So, in the fall, I’ll focus more on how my students are doing. I plan to: Assign and discuss course materials on mental health early in the semester. I’ll show that I’m aware of the issue, that I understand how important it is, and that I recognize the stress that they are under. Practice what I preach: Be flexible and compassionate and when possible give them the benefit of the doubt. In the beginning of each class, ask how they are doing and listen carefully to the answers. Avoid rote by mixing up the question: How did you sleep last night? What will you do for fun this weekend? What do you wish your professors knew about your life right now? Play with different ways for them to answer: small groups, poll, share with the class, or write anonymously. Make clear that I understand that some of us are more private than others and that they don’t have to share if they don’t want to. Email individual students to check in or to give them feedback: You were unusually quiet today, are you okay? I loved your deep question about Buddhism, thank you! Thanks for bringing Mary’s idea into the conversation and for opening a space so that she could speak. Refer them to campus support services when needed. I’m not qualified to be a therapist. Take care of ourselves The past six months have been difficult for most of us, and the work I’m calling us to do takes time and energy. Don't be a hero. If you take this on, skip other stuff. What stuff? Well, here’s what I'm skipping: I’m not adding any content to my classes and I’m not revising any assignments (except as mentioned above). I'm using class time for the community building and mental health work instead of doing it outside of class. Content coverage will suffer, and I’ll learn to be okay with that. Most of all, I’ll keep reminding myself that I'm teaching during a crisis. Perfection isn't needed and I won't strive for it. Works cited Suddenly online: A national survey of undergraduates during the COVID-19 crisis. Digital Promise, July 2020.

I've been sketching, drawing and painting since I was a child. Sometimes people ask, "How do you draw so well?" On occasion I respond, "When you do something every day for a long time you can get pretty good at it." I've been teaching online for 22 years. By now, I've gotten pretty good at it. Here are 15 things that work in my online courses, and three that didn't. 1. Fully outlining the course using a mindmap. Drafting the outline of the course in detail before I even create the online course shell saves hours of guesswork. The branching logic of a mindmap also helps me avoid superfluous content. This is a very efficient brainstorming, planning, and design method; by now I can outline an entire course within one hour. 2. Creating a clean interface design for students. Striving to view my course site from the perspective of the student helps me keep the course design clean, uncluttered, and with a logical flow that is intuitive to navigate. I remind myself that "figuring out your course site is not an assignment." Adding consistent visual cues helps students navigate the course site, recognize standard segments, and important items. 3. Creating an atmosphere of both welcome and challenge. Reminding students that they are taking a "course" and not a "class" helps them appreciate that online learning is a different experience than the classroom. Setting the atmosphere includes an "introduce yourself" forum which can include sharing common experiences, using humor. When a student posts a great response, I will sometimes give them "1000 extra credit points." They don't cost me anything and they don't actually count for anything, but students get excited. Just like a classroom course, I strive to create a "class culture" conducive to learning. 4. Providing a reading schedule checklist and other helps. Because I'm not as present as I am in a classroom, I provide students with helpful resources to help them self-monitor their progress. For example, this handy reading schedule checklist helps students stay on track and helps avoid the "when is the assignment due?" question. 5. Allowing up to two weeks of reading days before the first session. Because my online courses encourage critical reading and interaction with texts, I give students plenty of time to read ahead before requiring them to post responses. Additionally, I have a standard "How to read for this course" orientation that helps encourage reading for understanding, synthesis, and application rather than for coverage. 6. Scheduling one week for wrapping up the course. During the final week of the course schedule no posts or learning activities are assigned. This allows students to catch up on posts they've missed and gives them time to finish the summative paper or project before the submission deadline. 7. Being selective in content and student learning activities. I anticipate that my online class will require more work from students than a classroom version. Therefore, the content coverage becomes more focused (and the amount cut it by half). Aligning student learning activities to the course's student learning outcomes helps avoid overwhelming students with superfluous activities. Aside from reading and posting on forums, two additional student learning activities is the most I ask of students. One of those will often be a summative writing assignment or project. 8. Keeping all course sessions open. Keeping all sessions open allows the student a meta view of the scope of the course, which aids in comprehension, integration, and helps them plan their own schedules. It also allows for eager students to work ahead and for some to catch up as needed. I have found there is little value in keeping things "hidden" from students. 9. Being heavy-handed in responding to student posts for the first two sessions. During the first two sessions of the course I respond intentionally to student posts, communicating what I look for in student responses, highlighting what an effective student post is (and why), pushing for deeper thinking though follow up questions, etc. I emphasize that questions asked by the professor and by students are "real" questions which must be responded to. This provides cues to students about the expected quality of posts. 10. Scheduling two 45-minute log in times for myself. One rule I follow is "never work harder than your students." To avoid being overwhelmed by student posts and to help manage my time I schedule one 45-minute time slot in the morning and in the afternoon to read and respond to student posts. I don't respond to each individual post, rather, I select those posts that provide a chance to "teach to the class" with a response. When I note a student starts getting behind in their posts, I send one check in e-mail, but no more. 11. Providing supplemental enrichment resources. There is a lot of good content available on the internet. Providing optional enrichment resources allows students to "go deeper" into the study and review alternate ways of accessing content (video, podcasts, demonstrations, interviews, model lectures, etc.). However, I try to be judicious and selective to avoid offering too many options in any given session. Alternatively, I sometimes assign students to do an internet search for appropriate and helpful recourses and have them post them on the course site (they must share why the resource is relevant and helpful). 12. Creating opportunity for immediate application. I strive for immediate application starting with the first discussion forum session. The application can be in the form of interpretation, analysis, providing an example, providing a critique, challenging an idea, or applying a concept to the students' experiences. Throughout the course I strive to address multiple modalities of understanding (see Wiggins & McTighe's Understanding by Design taxonomy). 13. Including a mid-course metacognition opportunity. At mid-point in the course I provide a forum with metacognition questions and prompts to help students "step back" and reflect on their learning experience. This provides helpful process feedback for both student and professor. 14. Including a 50-minute Zoom "open office hours." This practice provides novelty and can be helpful to foster a sense of connectivity and to provide an opportunity to discuss concepts that may need a more nuanced treatment. I typically don't schedule more than two during the course. 15. Including a "course closure" section. I have a firm deadline for course closure at which time all assignments are due, no exceptions. I post a firm notice at the start of the course, and on the syllabus, that I accept no late submissions. The course closes on the final date of the course schedule. The final session provides a place for students to post their assignments and a forum where they "sign off." When a student submits a post in this final forum it signals to me that have completed the course, so I don't have to guess when a student is "done." Three Things That Have Not Worked Requiring synchronous sessions forcing students to log on at specific days and times. Requiring students to check in at specific times for a live session tends to not have a significant pedagogical value in my experience. Aside from checking in from different time zones, the necessity of the right equipment, and need for stable internet connections, I haven't found that a "live" session is of significantly high value for the learning experience. Posting a narrated 20-minute slide presentation for content delivery. Early on I tried to translate the classroom lectures with slide presentations to the online environment. That resulted in 20-minute narrated slide presentations students needed to sit through. Ultimately I found it more effective to provide students with a textual narrative of the content. Students can read faster than listening to a slow-paced narrated podcast, and it's easier to review the content. Sure, visual and audio presentations have their place, but the question is, "What pedagogical function does it serve?" Requiring quizzes and exams for a grade. Since students demonstrate achievement of learning through their posts (which are assessed immediately) and in a summative paper or project that synthesizes evidence of higher order learning, quizzes and tests are of little value. On occasion I do provide quizzes for self-assessment and review. Students can take those to reinforce and assess their own learning.

Thanks to the collegiality of Dr. Mitzi J. Smith and the generosity of the Wabash Center, I have the opportunity to engage in learning that moves beyond professional development to include personal transformation. This summer I will participate as a learner in an intensive that Mitzi will teach on The Gospel of Luke and African-American Interpretation. Mitzi is J. Davidson Philips Professor of New Testament at Columbia Theological Seminary and a leading womanist biblical scholar. She and CTS have graciously agreed to include me and 21 students from Bethany Theological Seminary and Earlham School of Religion in the course. Mitzi and I are also co-directing a Wabash Center small grant project titled, “The Challenges and Effective Pedagogy of a Trans-Contextual Online Collaboration for an African-American/Womanist Hermeneutics Course during Covid-19.” Dr. Marcia Riggs (also of CTS), and Dr. Mary Hess (Luther Theological Seminary) have joined the project as consultants, bringing expertise in the areas of ethics and education. The grant creates space for us to reflect on pedagogy and social justice in ways that go beyond our usual reflective practice. This blog is a way to make our learning public. Both the course and the grant project feel challenging to me--a white, straight, cisgendered male with a history of privilege. Unlike Mitzi and many of my students, I have not experienced biblical texts being used as a basis for marginalizing me, requiring me to be submissive because of my gender, or excluding me from leadership. In most churches I have attended, it is socially acceptable to ignore biblical texts that challenge my middle-class lifestyle, such as Luke 14:33. Students in my courses are welcome to “talk back” about the Bible with or without the “sass” that Mitzi encourages;[1] I, however, have been more inclined to emphasize that New Testament texts are inspiring and worthy of careful study despite their flaws. Mitzi’s hermeneutics of suspicion may challenge me to critique biblical interpretations and texts more assertively in light of core biblical values such as justice, mercy, and love. My approaches to hermeneutics and pedagogy have long emphasized inclusion of a wide diversity of interpreters with the understanding that Jesus often speaks through people who have been marginalized. My revised introductory survey course is now titled “Reading the New Testament Contextually,” and it includes True to Our Native Land as essential reading.[2] I am fluent enough to teach in Spanish and have enjoyed leading bilingual intercultural hermeneutics seminars in Puerto Rico and California. I have also had the privilege of team teaching with several Nigerian scholars through video-linked classrooms in Jos, Plateau State, and Richmond, Indiana. Those efforts, however, have not qualified me to foreground the experiences of African-American communities in all the ways that justice, love, and good teaching require. In order to understand and embody Jesus’ teaching faithfully in this time, I need to recognize the disproportionate impact of Covid-19 on communities of color, especially on African-American communities. I need to speak out more forcefully against the discriminatory police violence that has continued unabated even as other activities shut down for the pandemic. I need to engage more deeply with African-American neighbors and biblical interpreters in order to hear what Jesus is saying now through them and through scripture. And I need to step up efforts to recognize and confront racism in myself as well as in society. In a recent consultation, Mitzi, Marcia, Mary, and I exchanged ideas for helping students become aware of their own contexts and identities, including their experiences of race. Marcia reminded us that storytelling rooted in personal and communal experience is an essential practice of womanist theology. Mary and Marcia each suggested prompts that could encourage students to write thoughtfully about the identities and experiences they bring to a course in African-American and womanist biblical interpretation. For example, “What are systemic patterns of racism that you observe in general society today? How do you participate (even inadvertently) in these patterns?”[3] We agreed that it is important for both students and professors to know their contexts, to remember their own stories, and to tell them in ways that create space for honest conversation. I plan to share more of my story and learning as the project continues, and I look forward to interacting with posts by Mitzi and other participants. As a reader of this blog, your constructive comments are also welcome as we journey together toward deeper understanding. Read about Mitzi Smith's Experience with Dan Ulrich [1] See Mitzi J. Smith, Womanist Sass and Talk Back: Social (In)Justice, Intersectionality, and Biblical Interpretation (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2018); also Mitzi J. Smith and Yung Suk Kim. Toward Decentering the New Testament : A Reintroduction (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2018). [2] Brian K. Blount, ed. True to Our Native Land: An African American New Testament Commentary (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2007). [3] Rima Vesely-Flad, “‘Saying the Wrong Thing’: Experiences of Teaching Race in the Classroom,” Spotlight on Teaching, Religious Studies News (November 5, 2018), https://rsn.aarweb.org/spotlight-on/teaching/anti-racism/saying-the-wrong-thing, accessed June 18, 2020.

Planning for fall teaching frightens me much more than the spring switch to online teaching did. Going online in the spring was a mad, last-minute scramble, and it felt like an adventure. My students and I had already bonded so I had goodwill built up and I used it shamelessly. It also helped that we were in a crisis. My students didn’t expect me to do things perfectly and I lowered my expectations of them as well. I interacted with them as a fellow human being, providing structure, a sense of normalcy, and a little philosophy. I knew how to do all that, and my students helped me out whenever the technology confused me. But what about the fall? I just went through a few packed training days about teaching online. I left terrified, feeling that I had to spend the summer acquiring technical mastery in online teaching, learning to create snazzy videos and other exciting content. But am I teaching online? I don’t know yet. The situation is too fluid. I need to be prepared to teach online, in person, or in a hybrid format. And I’m tired. I can guarantee that my students will be underwhelmed by any videos that I create over the summer. I won’t have enough time to acquire the technical expertise required to create even decent videos. And because my classes are discussion heavy and lecture light, I’m not sure what I would put into those videos in the first place. Still, I felt pressured to switch to a lecture format, learn to lecture, and then to create videos of those lectures. All in one summer. Wait. Stop. Is that really what I should be working on this summer? No. The online teaching experts who conducted the training forgot that this year is extraordinary. In preparing to teach in the fall, we must start by considering our situation: Our students didn’t choose to take online classes. My students are at a small college, and they came here because of our small in-person classes. If I’m teaching online in the fall, it’s because we were forced into it. Our students are living through a pandemic and political upheaval, so they are distracted and stressed. If they have mental health issues, and many do, those are exacerbated. They are shaken and they feel less safe than they used to. They may have lost loved ones and they are worried about those who remain. We too are living through a pandemic and political upheaval, and it affects us in the same ways that it affects our students. My experts didn’t take any of this into account; they focused on how to create an online course under normal circumstances. And then, I freaked out instead of asking what portion of the advice was applicable to our current situation. Don’t make that mistake. Before spending precious time and energy on your online teaching this summer, ask two questions: What do your students need most from you and your courses under these circumstances? What is your energy level and mental health status, and what are the competing demands on your time and energy? Here is my list of what my students need: A sense of normalcy. A clearly structured course, website, and a set of assignments where expectations and directions are spelled out in simple language. Compassion and flexibility Discussions about meaning and purpose, including some that help them make sense of the current moment. Community and connection. My work this summer will be about doing these five well in any of the possible formats: in-person, online, and hybrid. I’ll work on lectures and videos only if that helps me with the five. I’ll work on technology because I need a better handle on Zoom and our learning management software. But my most important task won’t be about technology. It will be figuring out how to foster community in my classes if we are forced to start the semester online. It’s the most important task for me because I have at least some experience in doing all the others. But how do I build community online? How do we get to know each other? How do we learn to trust each other enough to have a real conversation? I’ll be thinking a lot about that in the next few weeks. Molleen Dupree-Dominguez offers some great places to start.

A traumatic event is one that is sudden and unexpected. Is Covid-19 a traumatic event? Jonathan Porteus, Ph.D., a licensed clinical psychologist who oversees a crisis and suicide hotline in Sacramento, CA., points out high levels of emotional distress from the Covid-19 crisis, and recommends attending to this mental health crisis as a traumatic event. Porteus comments, “Our society is definitely in a collective state of trauma.”[1] The Covid-19 pandemic may also lead to an upcoming wave of mental disorders claims Sandro Galea in an April essay published in the Journal of the American Medical Association.[2] Online learners may be experiencing traumatic emotional distress which may have an impact on their academic performance in their online classes. Then, how can educators in the online teaching of theology and religious studies offer trauma-informed care for online learners? And what should they avoid? What to do: The educator will likely observe changes to an online learner’s behavior and academic performance if mental health challenges arise from traumatic events. In the face-to-face classroom, the educator is, presumably, more easily able to perceive mental health warning signs such as mood changes, change of appearance, absences, and unusual behaviors. In an online class, it is more difficult to assess warning signs of mental health distress. Thus, online educators need to develop strategies for identifying mental health challenges in order to provide appropriate trauma-informed online learning. Trauma often impacts the psychological mechanisms which regulate emotions. If there is a sudden change in academic performance, disruptive interaction in the online discussion, disrespectful behavior toward peers and faculty, or failing grades, an educator should reach out and check on a student’s emotional state. It is critical for educators working from a perspective of trauma-informed online learning to know the warning signs of mental health challenges. Bonny Barr offers these guidelines for identifying the warning signs of mental illness or emotional distress in online students.[3] ATYPICAL BEHAVIORS (a change from the usual) UNUSUAL BEHAVIORS ACADEMIC PERFORMANCE PROBLEMS (Sharkin, 2006) Becoming irritable/short-tempered/obsessive Emails are accusatory, manipulative, sexually inappropriate or threatening Late assignments from beginning of course Sudden deterioration in quality of work Discussion post contents are: bizarre, fantastical, paranoid, disruptive, confused, or show disorientation Failing quality of work from beginning of course Abruptly begins turning in late assignments Student clearly seems out of touch with reality Not returning emails or phone calls Becoming disrespectful in discussion posts Not turning in work at all Stops responding to email Not re-doing work when given an opportunity Content of work becomes negative/dark/odd in tone Ongoing display of anxiety about assignments Trauma-informed care in online-learning is to acknowledge the earlier signs of traumatic experiences. It means that it is valuable to contact online learners when they display atypical behaviors. As Bruce Sharkin states, “Early intervention can help reduce the chance of a student’s problems turning into a crisis situation later on.”[4] An online educator should be encouraged to address a mental health concern in the early stages of a sudden change of behaviors and identify the emotional distress caused by stress. What not to do: Trauma-informed online learning begins to create a safe space in the learning interaction. When an educator reaches out to learners by any vritual communication, it is critical not to be judgmental. Remember you are not there to give a diagnosis or ‘solve’ mental health challenges. Your first contact is to initiate safe conversations with acceptance and encouragement. For example, an educator can say, or write an email, “I’m touching base with you because I noticed you hadn’t submitted anything for several weeks. It seems as if you are having a rough time,” or “In the discussion post, I see you are stressed out.” An educator’s concern and empathy can be expressed by virtual communications. This approach will encourage a learner to share their struggles without having defensive responses and confrontations. An education in trauma-informed online learning can be the first responder for students. Also, a trauma-informed educator needs to equip themselves to have counseling resources available to students and to know the institutional policies for students with mental health challenges. If anything in the initial conversation leads the educator to be alarmed or have increased concern about the mental health of the learner, then the academic support process can be initiated. Trauma-informed educators in online learning occupy a unique position to help learners be aware of their mental health struggles and seek helpful resources for their well-being. Further, trauma-informed educators in the online teaching of theology and religious studies are in a unique position to influence religious communities by caring for the online learner. When online educators equip themselves to address the mental health challenges of learners, the online educator becomes a great support system for responding to the psychological needs and wellness, not only for online learners, but also for religious communities during the Covid-19 pandemic. [1] Katherine Kam, “Mental Health an Emerging Crisis of COVID Pandemic,” https://www.webmd.com/lung/news/20200508/mental-health-emerging-crisis-of-Covid-pandemic?ecd=wnl_spr_051120&ctr=wnl-spr-051120_nsl-LeadModule_title&mb=210I6N5H5gRJeKEyXlsPHQPCAlmlkpgV9%40IzB8Po%2fgY%3d, May 8, 2020, (Accessed May 12, 2020). [2]Sandro Galea, et.at., “The Mental Health Consequences of COVID-19 and Physical Distancing: The Need for Prevention and Early Intervention,” Journal of the American Medical Association, Published online April 10, 2020. (Accessed May 12, 2020), doi:10.1001/jamainternmed.2020.1562. [3] Bonny Barr, “Identifying and Addressing the Mental Health Needs of Online Students in Higher Education,” Online Journal of Distance Learning Administration, Volume XVII, Number II, Summer 2014 University of West Georgia, Distance Education Center, (Accessed May 12, 2020) https://www.westga.edu/~distance/ojdla/summer172/barr172.html [4] Bruce S. Sharkin, College Students in Distress: A Resource Guide for Faculty, Staff, and Campus Community (Taylor & Francis, 2013), 52.

The day before we were told to go online, rumors that we would transition were flying think and fast. It was a Tuesday. I was supposed to head to Vanderbilt that evening to give a talk on Wednesday, but the night before, it had been canceled. Given this, I suspected that we (CU Boulder) would be going online soon. Earlier in the day when I met with my seminar (a class that, despite being label a seminar, had over 30 people), I told them that I thought online was coming. The entire room burst into conversation, much of it unease, some of it amusement, most of it because they knew I was barely managing our minimalist Canvas site. We had already experienced some small adaptations together. A week or two before, a student who was experiencing back spasms asked if she could lie on the floor during the class. I said yes, and she participated while lying flat on her back. Prior to our last in-person session, a student had emailed me to say that he thought he had Covid-19 and asked if he could attend via FaceTime, on a classmate’s computer. I said yes, and he participated from his screen. Using that flexibility as our foundation, we spent 30 minutes planning our online transition together. In the end, I am responsible for the decisions that were made, but I am very glad that my students and I worked through the plans together. We discussed the possibility of meeting over Zoom. While people really liked our classroom community, we had concerns about trying to have a 34-person conversation over the computer. (At this time, I had never used Zoom and did not realize that I could break the class into small groups with the push of a button.) In addition to questions about the feasibility of the Zoom platform, students were anxious about internet access, changing work schedules, and responsibility for younger siblings. So, we decided that we would have discussion boards. I asked them if they thought that it would be fair to have everyone post one initial thought and two comments on existing posts per day. We agreed, as a group, that one comment could be part of an ongoing conversation on your own post, but that the other comment had to be on someone else’s. We discussed what they wanted and needed in order to make this plan work. Deadlines. They wanted clear deadlines and they wanted me to promise that I would not move things around on them. As the semester would wear on, one by one, they would repeatedly thank me for never moving anything around. We agreed that the initial post needed to be up by the start of class time, and that they had 25 hours to post responses. I talked about what I wanted in the discussion boards: for them to try not to repeat each other, and to make sure that someone commented on almost everyone’s post. When I brought up that second concern, one student nodded. I knew she would monitor our inclusivity. I was delighted, and feel that I can take very little credit, for what happened on our discussion boards over the following weeks. I posted questions to get them going; one of which was always, “Share a quote that struck you as interesting and tell us why you were intrigued by it.” They answered. They picked quotes they liked, they picked quotes that they did not understand, they picked quotes for which they needed more context. They brought their confusion to each other. Frequently, I would log in to discover that a question posed late at night, and probably aimed at me, had been answered by a student before I woke up. But maybe more impressive than their willingness to share their vulnerability, to share their “I do not knows,” they were willing, firmly and politely, to disagree with each other. They challenged each other repeatedly. They debated interpretations of texts, but they also called each other on more charged issues, like failures to see structural racism. Each time, I was struck by the fact that they did so without pointing fingers or descending into accusation. They remained firmly in intellectual community with each other. To be clear, some of these things had been happening in the classroom all along, but most were not, or at least included only the most talkative of the class. These discussion boards were very surprising to me, and upon reflection, I think this kind of connection occurred because I let them choose a format. I did not let them chose the format because I knew that it would lead to these conversations—I did it because I have never taught online, did not know what to do, and wanted to get buy-in for my plan. Wonderfully, my students responded by taking ownership of the space. They had been asked what they wanted to do, and with that freedom they went ahead and did it.

Teaching that prioritizes inclusion and equity is an essential task for instructors. However, teaching remotely due to the Covid-19 pandemic presents unique questions that faculty should address to support their students’ emotional and cognitive well-being. Below, I present six tips to promote an inclusive and equitable remote learning space for this moment. Acknowledge your own and students’ emotions Given the current moment, many students are experiencing stress and trauma. A trauma-informed pedagogy asks instructors to acknowledge and reflect on their own emotions as they prepare to enter this new learning space. Similarly, provide a space for students to process their own emotions as well. This can be done through individual reflection prompts, asynchronous discussion boards, or a guided discussion in a synchronous space. Consider if you can give students agency in the course Since we know students may be experiencing additional burdens and stress, consider ways that you may be able to provide students flexibility in the remainder of the course. A first step is to allow students to help shape the learning environment, including considerations for engagement and their expectations for themselves and others in the course. Additionally, it may be beneficial to give students choice in the types of assignments or tasks remaining in the course. Giving students some agency will allow them to feel some sense of control in a time of great uncertainty. Understand students’ unequal access to technology in determining how to run your course A recent post from PhysPort, a blog about teaching in physics provides considerations for what faculty should consider when thinking about students ability to access the course: Recognize that not all your students will be able to attend synchronous online classes due to internet access, connectivity, scheduling, health, and family situations. Some platforms allow participants to call in via phone, which allow them to hear and participate in audio conversations, but not see slides, screenshare, or video. Find ways for students who can't connect in real time to still participate (e.g. by making recordings available after class), or consider not running synchronous classes at all: asynchronous learning can be much more equitable for students with different levels of access, health and privilege. These are also good things to keep in mind when you are teaching in-person classes. Consider available grading options This may be difficult for some faculty in professional schools and in some undergraduate programs, but I encourage instructors to be open to new ideas for grading. For example, some have suggested that you tell students that they cannot receive a grade lower than what they currently have in the class. Such an approach will help deescalate student stress levels and acknowledge that not all students will have equal opportunities or access to complete the rest of the work for the course. Ensure your materials and technology are accessible As you integrate new ways to engage students and access materials for your course, ensure that these new platforms and methods are accessible. You should consider how students who use assistive technologies can engage the course as well as best ways to students with accommodations. Do what you can to promote your own self-care We recognize that this is a difficult time for you as instructors as well. For some, this new reality may mean balancing professional and personal responsibilities in unique ways. For others, this can heighten feelings of loneliness and isolation. Regardless, of your situation, it is important to do what you need to do to take care of yourself. It is though caring for our own well-being that we can best support our students. These six steps are only a beginning for how to foster inclusion and equity in your remote course. I recognize that this moment presents many challenges. I also recognize that others may have ideas to promote an inclusive and equitable course environment. If you have additional ideas, feel free to leave them in the comments for others to read. Additional Resources “As Human as Possible” by Colleen Flaherty, Inside Higher Ed “Hope Matters” by Mays Imad, Inside Higher Ed “Inclusion, Equity, and Access While Teaching Remotely” from Rice University Center for Teaching Excellence “Maintaining Equity and Inclusion in Virtual Learning Environments” from san Diego State University “Please Do a Bad Job of Putting Your Courses Online” by Rebecca Barrett-Fox

I, like so many, have been flooded with a mixture of emotions during this pandemic and self-isolation. While feelings of fear and anxiety often overcome me, I also have a profound sense of gratitude. I am privileged to be able to take a step back and ask religious questions those deep questions of meaning and value–with fellow religious educators. It is from phone conversations in isolation that Dr. Kathleen O’Gorman and I came to wonder what is this emergent curriculum, or “curriculum of pandemic,” that has descended upon us all, teaching us? What might we learn and how we are we called to respond in meaningful, educative ways? The first place Kathleen and I thought to process this emergent curriculum was with our learning community, to learn from this pandemic with our students and alums. We invited a small group of about 10 people, all of whom were enthusiastic about this gathering, into a process of introspection and learning. It was apparent from our initial correspondence leading up to and during our first session that we all want to feel connected in some way right now. This affirmed for me the need not just for community, but to create an intentional learning community. I –we– longed for a “community of conversation”–to connect and make meaning together. For me, the calling to teach means both teaching and learning and this pandemic called my colleague and I to be more intentional about our praxis as teachers and learners together. Kathleen coined the titled for our virtual sessions “Pandemic Pandemonium.” There is no script or textbook that tells us what we can learn and how we should respond to this global crisis; therefore, we developed a framework of four sessions from which will flow a process of unpacking this curriculum of pandemic. Drawing inspiration from Kathleen’s gifts of music and aesthetics, we framed each one around a different song to evoke our affective sensibilities. In our first session, we set the context for our process of teaching and learning through the pandemic by listening to Sam Cooke sing “A Change Is Gonna Come” set to a video with still images of people standing up for their human rights across the world throughout different moments in history. In sharing our interpretations and insights from this video and song, we discussed how we might connect these historical movements for change to the change emerging before us right now. What change do we want to see from this experience of sheltering in place, from teaching in learning through new modes and mediums, and from recognition the earth is healing itself while we remain still? We concluded that first session by observing how each movement for change in society was a movement towards deeper inclusion. How, then, is this curriculum of pandemic guiding us towards greater inclusivity? This set the tone for our next session, “Go to your room” (something Mother Earth seems to be telling us right now), and the introspection on our feelings and emotions as we withdraw from everyday life. Following John Lennon’s song, “Isolation,” we invited our group to start thinking about how this time away has opened new patterns of living. How have our feelings given rise to new ways of thinking and experiencing the world and how might we help others (those we serve, family, friends) discern the meaning and value of isolation as we are experiencing it? Our third session will reimagine how we “Come Together” (using the Beatles cover song by Gary Clark Jr.), by asking: What now? What is the meaning of all this? What are we learning from gathering in new ways and how does that inform and transform our praxis as religious educators; how does this change in patterns of living call us to rethink our curriculum and praxis towards greater inclusivity? In our final session, we curated a curriculum of closure to be the start of a new beginning. With help from The Beatles again, “Let it Be,” we reflect the meaning of Sabbath during this time as we ask what is Mother Earth telling us? How are we called by Mother Earth to Let it Be? We end our session with a pastoral plan informed by what we learned and how we are called to respond. I hope to return to these reflections as our process unfolds in the coming weeks. In the meantime, I am sharing this experience in developing a process curriculum to invite others, if you have not already begun to do so, to engage in a process of introspection and discernment with your learning community to uncover how your teaching and learning can respond to a curriculum of pandemic.
Wabash Center Staff Contact
Sarah Farmer, Ph.D
Associate Director
Wabash Center
farmers@wabash.edu