Zooming through classes

Screenshot of a Zoom meeting with some of my Writing Center consultants.

I saw this line somewhere on social media: Who's zooming who?  Everyone!

Yeah, it's a reference to that Aretha Franklin song. (And yeah, it should probably be "who's zooming whom," but it would be really pedantic for me to point that out.)

And another answer to the question could be: me! I'm Zooming! 

Zoom, of course, is the videoconferencing tool that allows people to have virtual meetings--or classrooms. It's had a huge boom this month (lol, a Zoom boom) as people have been using it to stay connected during this time of social distancing.

I've decided to use Zoom to connect with my students at Coe College while we're doing online learning this semester. This week, I used Zoom to host several class meetings, a staff meeting (for the Writing Center), and an interview with a prospective Writing Center consultant. (I also attended a couple of meetings and a Zoom birthday party!)

I do like the platform because I get to see and talk to my students, and hear their questions and comments. This is huge for building trust and connection with them, for encouraging and challenging them "in person," the way we do on campus at our small liberal-arts college when there's no pandemic. 

Rare photo of me teaching. I'm over at the left. Face-to-face is what I prefer.

There's something about being able to see and hear each other that's so important to me. I'm glad to be able to use it--glad that we have this technology available to us.

But when we went to online learning at Coe, we were cautioned about using too much technology--like Zoom! We were especially cautioned about making too many requirements for synchronous learning--learning where the students have to be doing something at a certain time to learn.

As many have been reporting, many college students--Coe students included--don't have an ideal situation for Work From Home--or maybe it should be Study From Home. Many of our students are first-generation college students (this has always been the case at Coe), from homes where the work of college is not completely understood. 

Here's an example: one of the students in my writing class sent me an anguished email before we left for break (and, it turns out, before we left for good). Her parents had heard about the college closing for an extra week at Spring Break, and they bought her an airline ticket to fly home . . . in the middle of that week. She missed the last day of classes--and important class activities--before break and the closure. 

A few of my students will be working in "essential" businesses: at least one is working in a nursing home, a couple are going back to work at grocery stores.

Others don't have jobs, and are worried about their income. Some don't have reliable internet, or are sharing bandwidth with parents and siblings. Some are taking care of other family members. 

So despite the wonders of Zoom and my carefully-planned post-pandemic course schedule, I'm not sure how many students will manage this shift. 

Of the 12 students in my writing class this semester, 7 have been to at least one of the two Zoom meetings. Of the 30 in my writing center course, I've seen 14 in our Zoom meetings.

Sad attendance record for a Zoom meeting

So I've given everyone an asynchronous option--something they can do at any time. I post notes from the meeting (I may start posting video), and I ask them to post comments on an online discussion forum. Some have taken advantage of those options . . . but not all. Not sure where the others are. Not sure what their situations are.

I really don't want online learning to exacerbate inequities. 

My tendency is always toward mercy, so I hope those missing students will contact me to let me know they're still around, still studying, still wanting to continue to write--even if they're not zooming.