Category Archives: Teaching

Ghosts in the Library – A Collaborative Approach to Game-Based Pedagogy

ACRLog welcomes a guest post from Mandy Babirad, Instructional Services Librarian at SUNY Morrisville State College, Heather Shimon, Science and Engineering Librarian at the University of Wisconsin Madison, and Lydia Willoughby, Reference Librarian, Research and Education, at SUNY New Paltz.

Mandy Babirad (now at SUNY Morrisville), Heather Shimon (now at UW-Madison), and Lydia Willoughby (SUNY New Paltz) created an instructional game called Ghosts in the Library (Ghosts) to use in English Composition I library sessions (Comp I) at SUNY New Paltz in Fall 2015.

The game aligns with established Comp I learning outcomes and includes self-directed learning, problem solving, collaborative learning, and peer review. In the game, students work in groups and use the library catalog and databases to research a notable person with ties to New York State (a “ghost” who is haunting the library), and then create a digital artifact based on that research to appease the ghost. The “ghosts” are people of color and women who have made significant contributions to New York State, yet are underrepresented in the historical record. With the library’s namesake of Sojourner Truth, and student protests against a predominantly white curriculum occuring in Fall 2015, the game was also an attempt to include marginalized voices within the library collection and course syllabi.

The primary goal for Ghosts was to frame a 75 minute one shot library instruction session with a pedagogy of possibility. Roger Simon[1], in work that drew from deep collaboration with Henry Giroux, thought about student-centered learning as a choice of hope, and teaching as an act of hope. “Hope is the acknowledgement of more openness in a situation than the situation easily reveals… the hopeful person acts.” (3) Being open to possibilities is the only mindful and clear choice for teaching librarians facing technology distraction and student disinterest in a required library session. Bringing in curiosity as play engages inquiry as an affective process that asks student and teacher to act and reveal a more whole self in the classroom.

Ghosts Game Play

The game has one central goal: to appease your team’s ghost so that the ghost will leave the library and our campus alone. Each team gets a ghost card, team members choose role cards, the team members then use the tool cards to hunt down information that will help them appease their ghosts, and the final and culminating component of the game is the team creation of a historical marker.

All game materials can be downloaded from the Ghosts research guide: newpaltz.libguides.com/ghosts/scholarship.

Players in the Ghosts game receive a packet that contains the following game materials:

  • Map of the Sojourner Truth Library (with corresponding key to call numbers to floors)
  • Worksheet for the game to be completed in class time (the worksheet contains the rubric that teams use to evaluate their work and the success of their historical marker at appeasing their ghost).
  • Game Rules (like all rules, this is probably more useful for the librarian and teachers, than it is used by students. This was a key element in our game design and creation process, though it is most likely the least utilized part of the game by actual players during game play.)
  • A Packet of Cards (each packet contains 1 ghost card, 3 role cards and a 3 tool cards.
    • Ghost cards are randomly given to each group and are all women and people of color from New York State history that have a tie to the Hudson Valley region.
    • The 3 role cards include a historian, a presenter and a facilitator. If the composition of the class that you are teaching needs the group to be divided into more than 3 people per group, you can double up on historian role cards. All role cards contribute to information gathering and drafting the text of the historical marker.
      • The historian takes notes on the worksheet and enters the team’s text on the historical marker that the team is working together to create.
      • The presenter is the person that presents the team’s historical marker to the class.
      • The facilitator keeps the team on track and ensures that all tool cards have been used in information gathering, and that the team’s work fulfills all the roles of the rubric.
    • The 3 tool cards correspond to the library research tools students use on the library website to conduct research.
      • A tool card for databases that guides students to Academic Search Complete to find scholarly articles
      • A tool card for the library catalog that helps them discover books
      • A tool card for reference resources helps students to find background and biographical information on their ghost using Gale Virtual Reference Library.

The final part of the worksheet is a space where they can draft the text of their historical marker, a synthesis of their respective roles and tools in the research process. Once teams have completed the worksheet, they go to our custom historical marker website, https://apps.library.newpaltz.edu/plaque/index/plaque, to enter their text. Once they publish their historical marker and hit “Create,” their original text will appear on a digital artifact that looks like a ‘real’ NY State Education Department 1940. The artifact creation component of this game is designed to encourage student learning with a pedagogy that helps students connect to something ‘real’ and physical in the research process. Students present the historical markers, and all game players receive a ghost button and a FAQ zine about the library. Summary discussion concludes the session focused on what kinds of information the students gleaned from which kinds of library resources.

The game was tested with library staff, librarians, and student staff before being used in the classroom for the Science and Technology Entry Program program and for one Comp I in Spring 2016. Ghosts launched as a pilot in Fall 2016. Since that time, the game has continued as pilot for Comp I sessions in Fall 2017. Ghosts has been taught in roughly 42% of Comp I sessions since its launch. The assessment and feedback that we have is based on the worksheets from students, a survey given to faculty and students

Student, Teacher Feedback on Ghosts

We found that student input on the worksheet question, “Why did you choose this?,” to be the most valuable question to assess student learning. Even though only 52% of students reported that they would definitely use the resources from Ghosts again (and 42% reported ‘kind of’), their worksheets suggested otherwise. The student worksheets demonstrated skill in describing the research process in detail, showing an ability to evaluate information sources and needs. Even so, only 35% of student reported that the game had value to their course assignments, and 48% said that the game was ‘kind of’ valuable to their course work. There is a disconnect between the students ability to reflect on their own research and their view of the usefulness of those skills. Meaning, that as with all library instruction, the value of learning systemic thinking struggles to be visible and relevant to course assignments when structured in required sessions. The students were describing their research process, but not equating that task with the value of learning how to research. Interestingly, 71% of students definitely felt included while playing the game, and 31% ‘kind of’ felt included.

In the future, more evaluative questions will be posed in both the worksheet completed during the game and the post-assessment. The final product, the historical marker, won’t have a word count. Editing the marker down to 50 words took up a lot of time and stressed some of the students out which in turn may have influenced their evaluation of the game. The game could be tightened up and the worksheets could be transferred to online forms, so that the game is more of an online tutorial, which would facilitate flipped learning and provide the opportunity to use class time to have a more discussion based session informed by the work that was done outside of class. An idea for a follow-up assignment include writing a letter or postcard to your ghost describing how you research their history and what kind of things you found to encourage students to again practice being descriptive of their process. It is hard to get students to reflect on process; it is not practiced and it is rarely evaluated or asked for in their graded assignments.

The code for the historical marker would not have been possible without the work of software developer Andrew Vehlies. He created the marker from scratch in consultation with the librarians and posted the code on Github (available here) so that other history enthusiasts can benefit from his work. Once the code was developed and posted publicly, library technician (and human grumpy cat) Gary Oliver was able to post to local servers so that it could be used by students. Many thanks to instruction coordinator Anne Deutsch, at SUNY New Paltz, for letting us pilot Ghosts in the first place, and for supporting the game development in the library instruction program.

[1] Simon, R.I. (1992). Teaching against the grain: Texts for pedagogy of possibility. Greenwood Publishing Group.

Energy and Expectations

Sunday evening I went to a hot yoga class. It’s my way of starting off the week feeling refreshed and relaxed, which is much needed these days. The usual class instructor was out sick, but rather than cancel, the studio assigned a substitute teacher. She was perfectly kind and good at yoga instruction, but the energy of the class was just off. Far fewer students showed up than usual (it’s typically a packed class and I’m already starting to recognize a few regulars). The substitute instructor was much more subdued than our usual teacher, had different suggestions for poses, and didn’t cue our regular water breaks. No one really replied to her well-meaning questions and comments with more than a polite smile or nod of the head, and at one point her frustration with our non-communication came out in a kind of snarky comment which she quickly apologized for stating. It was still a good hour of exercise for me, but I’ll admit that the usual relaxation and freedom from anxiety weren’t quite there. I was trying to adjust to this new teacher’s unique instructions, energy, and expectations, rather than just allowing myself to “be.”

Those of you who teach probably know where I’m going with this story. As I made the sweaty, dehydrated walk to my car I realized how much of what I was feeling in class is likely akin to what students must feel during one-shot library classes. They may be in an unfamiliar setting (the library classroom), with a teacher they’ve never seen before (me!), whose personality, communication style, and pedagogical approach might be completely different (or just different enough) from their regular professor’s that it throws them off (partially or completely). The class might feel slightly or totally different than what they usually do on this day at this time period, and they are likely having to make their own adjustments to their environment and their temporary instructor. Having their usual professor in the classroom with them certainly helps mitigate some of the discomfort, but the vibe of the class is just fundamentally different.

There’s nothing wrong with different. Different can be good, but we have to acknowledge it. I know that the first (and sometimes the only) time I meet with a class it’s going to be awkward. When I first started teaching  that awkwardness really got to me and I overcompensated by being extra perky and outgoing. I was performing “teacher” in an effort to distance myself from the awkwardness, but all I really managed to accomplish was to distance myself from my students and emotionally wear myself out. These days I embrace the awkwardness. I acknowledge that this class is likely out of the ordinary for students. I give us all a chance to get to know one another and recognize that this class meeting may feel a little odd, but we’ll all still learn together. Yes, it does cut into content and “teaching time,” but it’s become an integral part of my practice, and–I believe–a valuable precursor to connection and learning. It’s made me more accepting and understanding of both myself and the students in these situations. I realize that we’re all figuring out each other’s energies and expectations together.

How do you embrace the awkwardness in your teaching?

Small Steps, Big Picture

As I thought about composing a blog post this week, I felt that familiar frustration of searching not only for a good idea, but a big one. I feel like I’m often striving (read: struggling!) to make space for big picture thinking. I’m either consumed by small to-do list items that, while important, feel piecemeal or puzzling over how to make a big idea more precise and actionable. So it feels worthwhile now, as I reflect back on the semester, to consider how small things can have a sizable impact.

I’m recalling, for example, a few small changes I’ve made to some information evaluation activities this semester in order to deepen students’ critical thinking skills. For context, here’s an example of the kind of activity I had been using. I would ask students to work together to compare two sources that I gave them and talk about what made the sources reliable or not and if one source was more reliable than the other. As a class, we would then turn the characteristics they articulated into criteria that we thought generally make for reliable sources. It seemed like the activity helped students identify and articulate what made those particular sources reliable or not and permitted us to abstract to evaluation criteria that could be applied to other sources.

While effective in some ways, I began to see how this activity contributed to, rather than countered, the problem of oversimplified information evaluation. Generally, I have found that students can identify key criteria for source evaluation such as an author’s credentials, an author’s use of evidence to support claims, the publication’s reputation, and the presence of bias. Despite their facility with naming these characteristics, though, I’ve observed that students’ evaluation of them is sometimes simplistic. In this activity, it felt like students could easily say evidence, author, bias, etc., but those seemed like knee-jerk reactions. Instead of creating opportunities to balance a source’s strengths/weaknesses on a spectrum, this activity seemed to reinforce the checklist approach to information evaluation and students’ assumptions of sources as good versus bad.  

At the same time, I’ve noticed that increased attention to “fake news” in the media has heightened students’ awareness of the need to evaluate information. Yet many students seem more prone to dismiss a source altogether as biased or unreliable without careful evaluation. The “fake news” conversation seems to have bolstered some students’ simplistic evaluations rather than deepen them.

In an effort to introduce more nuance into students’ evaluation practices and attitudes, then, I experimented with a few small shifts and have so far landed with revisions like the following.

Small shift #1 – Students balance the characteristics of a single source.
I ask students to work with a partner to evaluate a single source. Specifically, I ask them to brainstorm two characteristics about a given source that make it reliable and/or not reliable. I set this up on the board in two columns. Students can write in either/both columns: two reliable, two not reliable, or one of each. Using the columns side-by-side helps to visually illustrate evaluation as a balance of characteristics; a source isn’t necessarily all good or all bad, but has strengths and weaknesses.

Small shift #2 – Students examine how other students balance the strengths and weaknesses of the source.
Sometimes different students will write similar characteristics in both columns (e.g., comments about evidence used in the source show up in both sides) helping students to recognize how others might evaluate the same characteristic as reliable when they see it as unreliable or vice versa. This helps illustrate the ways different readers might approach and interpret a source.

Small shift #3 – Rather than develop a list of evaluation criteria, we turn the characteristics they notice into questions to ask about sources.
In our class discussion, we talk about the characteristics of the source that they identify, but we don’t turn them into criteria. Instead we talk about them in terms of questions they might ask of any source. For example, they might cite “data” as a characteristic that suggests a source is reliable. With a little coaxing, they might expand, “well, I think the author in this source used a variety of types of evidence – statistics, interviews, research study, etc.” So we would turn that into questions to ask of any source (e.g., what type(s) of evidence are used? what is the quantity and quality of the evidence used?) rather than a criterion to check off.

Despite their smallness, these shifts have helped make space for conversation about pretty big ideas in information evaluation: interpretation, nuance, and balance. What small steps do you take to connect to the big picture? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.

An instruction librarian, a digital scholarship librarian, and a scientist enter a Twitter chat…

A quick note to preface this post: Thank you, Dylan Burns. After reading your post–What We Know and What They Know: Scholarly Communication, Usability, and Un-Usability–I can’t stop thinking about this weird nebula of article access, entitlement, ignorance, and resistance. Your blog post has done what every good blog post should do: Make me think. If you haven’t read Dylan’s post yet, stop, go back, and read. You’ll be better for it. I promise.

I am an instruction librarian, so everything that I read and learn about within the world of library and information science is filtered through a lens of education and pedagogy. This includes things like Dylan Burns’ latest blog post on access to scholarship, #TwitterLibraryLoan, and other not-so-legal means of obtaining academic works. He argues that faculty who use platforms like #Icanhazpdf or SciHub are not “willfully ignorant or disloyal to their institutions, libraries, or librarians. They just want what they want, when they want it,” and that “We as librarians shouldn’t  ‘teach’ our patrons to adapt to our obtuse and oftentimes difficult systems but libraries should adapt to the needs of our patrons.”

My initial reaction was YES, BUT…which means I’m trying to think of a polite way to express dissent. Thankfully, Dylan’s always up for a good Twitter discussion, so here’s what ensued:

My gut reaction to libraries giving people “what they want, when they want it” is always going to be non-committal. I’ve never been one to subscribe to what a colleague a long time ago referred to as “eat your peas librarianship” (credit: Michelle Boulé). I don’t think things should be difficult just for the sake of being difficult because things were hard for me, and you youngin’s should have to face hardships too! But I am also enough of a parent to know that giving people what they want when they want it without telling them how it got there is going to cause a lot of problems (and possibly temper-tantrums) later on. Here’s where the education librarian in me emerges: I don’t want scholars to just be able to get what they want when they need/want it without understanding the deeper problems within the arguably broken scholarly publishing model. In other words, I want to advocate for Lydia Thorne’s model of educating scholars about scholarly publishing problems. To which Dylan responds:

To which I can only respond:

Point: Dylan. Those of us who teach have all had the experience of trying to turn an experience into a teaching moment, only to be met by rolling eyes, blank stares, sighs, huffs, etc. Is the scholarly publishing system so broken that even knowing about the problems with platforms like SciHub, scholars will still engage in the piracy of academic works because, well, it’s all a part of the game they need to play? Is this even an issue of usability then? Creating extremely user-friendly library systems won’t change the fact that some libraries simply can’t afford the resources their community wants/needs, but those scholars still need to engage in the system that produces that resources. Is it always going to be a lose-lose for libraries?

At this point a friend of mine enters the Twitter discussion. Jonathan Jackson is an instructor of neurology and researcher at Massachusetts General Hospital:

Prior to this conversation I’d not thought about #TwitterLibraryLoan and similar efforts at not-so-legal access to scholarship as acts of resistance, but Jonathan’s entrance into the discussion forced me to think about the power of publicly asking for pdfs. I’ll admit that part of me skeptical that all researchers are as politically conscious as Jonathan and his colleagues. I’m sure there are some folks who just need that article asap and don’t care how they get it. But there is power in calling out that one publisher or that one journal again and again on #ICanHazPDF because your library will never be able to afford that subscription.

I’ll admit that the whole Twitter exchange made me second guess motivations all around, which is what a good discussion should do, right?

Pink Labor and the Reluctant Librarian

ACRLog welcomes a guest post from Siân Evans, Information Literacy & Instructional Design Librarian at Maryland Institute College of Art.

“One of the hardest things to admit is that you’re not doing okay. We want to be always glowing and effusive, charming and graceful but most of us hide little pits of darkness, ever growing and receding, in our guts.” – A thing I wrote when I was 27, in a collection of essays called “Built to Last: A collection of essays on sex, love, and feminism that I liberated from my ex-boyfriend’s blog,” published by D.I.Y feminist press, Pilot Press

“I don’t know how to be. I don’t know if I’m a librarian, a career that feels like a calling to most. Librarian with a capital L. I’m not sure if I really like helping people that much.” – A thing I wrote in my journal when I was 32, in 2015.

What is the relationship between these two things I wrote? I’m going to admit, right off the bat, that I’m not entirely sure. But, given that I’m writing an essay about mental illness and gendered affective labor, I’m going to take a cue from a gorgeous memoir written by an acquaintance of mine, and explore these things that weave in and out of each other for me all at once in a messy (but perhaps radical?) way.

(Mental Illness)

And that’s the thing about feelings and what we call them, they’re messy at best. In The Glass Eye, Jeannie Vanasco explores her various diagnoses and self-diagnoses, musing on how they often seemed wrong or even arbitrary. I’ve been diagnosed as moderately depressed and, in one case, a psychiatrist made an offhand, confusing but ultimately unexamined comment about the potential of borderline personality disorder.* I tend to side with a Foucauldian way of thinking: that all diagnoses serve the function of classification and, ultimately, control; i.e. “reign in those pesky women and make them productive!” And, besides, what do diagnoses really mean outside of the meaning we give them?** Do they ultimately do justice to the feeling?

via GIPHY

Thankfully I’m not the first to write publicly about mental illness in librarianship, nor the first to note the gendered component of depression and anxiety disorders. That is well-documented. But I do think these are conversations that we need to continue to have, as hard as they are. And, especially in higher education because, as Lisl Walsh has pointed out, academia is “irreparably ableist” when it comes to mental health.

Anecdotally, I also know this need for discussion to be true. Over a glass of wine with a librarian friend, I cautiously mentioned that I was working on a very personal essay about mental illness and library instruction. She responded, “I’m basically your target audience.” In a field of largely women, I imagine she’s not alone.

(Pink Labor)

So two things happened to me at once: I participated in Veronica Arellano Douglas and Joanna Gadsby’s interview project on the gendered labor of library instruction coordination and I got really, really depressed. I’m not saying these two things are necessarily linked but I’m also not saying they’re not linked. As bell hooks points out, in Teaching to Transgress: Education as the Practice of Freedom (and I’m paraphrasing horribly here): the moments in which you become aware of your own oppression and the oppression of others are often incredibly painful. And there’s no going back. The veil has been lifted. So, we read. And we learn from what others have said before.

I’ve been doing feminist work for maybe my whole life but was only introduced to the concept of “pink labor,” “affective labor” or “emotional labor” (oppression has many names!) in 2014, when I co-organized a series of speculative conversations at a DIY feminist gallery space in Brooklyn.*** I was aware of the genesis of the term, of The Managed Heart: Commercialization of Human Feeling, Arlie Russell Hochschild’s seminal work on flight attendants and bill collectors. I knew what it meant: that in absorbing other people’s emotions while suppressing your own for the benefit of an employer, you’re doing an invisible form of labor that is affective or emotional, and largely gendered (hence “pink”). But I hadn’t thought much about how it might affect me.

So I read more.

In reading one of the most canonical (if we can even use that term for such a niche field of study) articles on emotional labor in librarianship, I was struck by two things: (1) feelings and (2) names. The study describes the emotions expressed by librarians in reaction to the teaching experience as “ranging from joy and satisfaction […] to feelings of misery” (emphasis my own). I found myself coding the names of the pseudonymous librarians interviewed by whether or not they made positive or negative comments about their own teaching:

Coding article text
Coding article text

Steve and John, it seemed, were thoroughly impressed with themselves. While Kerri, Melissa, Amy, Colleen, Fran and Sandra had mixed feelings.**** I know that students’ reactions to teachers are often gendered, which may also account for these highly critical self perceptions because when you’re repeatedly told you’re not as good, of course you don’t feel all that good. And I also know that impostor syndrome in librarianship is real…

Tote bag with caption
Tote bag with caption “Carry yourself with the confidence of a mediocre white man”

But I couldn’t help but draw loose mental connections between the statistics on women’s mental health and the affective labor of largely gendered professions, like librarianship, social work, nursing, and so on. But those threads are still so, so loose. And I’m not sure where they’ll lead me.

(Time)

What I do want to explore is the potential for liberation. Always.

Emily Drabinski and Karen P. Nicholson have both written about the connections between the capitalist commodification of time and how the genesis of the term “information literacy” is rooted in neoliberal ideals of the university as a space of production.  Nicholson, in particular, argues for an adoption of the principle of feminist slow scholarship to challenge this:

“Slow scholarship — which applies to academic work in the broad sense to include teaching, research, and service — resists the accelerated, fragmented time of the neoliberal university, along with its audit culture, intensified work order, and ‘fast, take-way, virtual, globalized, download/uptake’ pedagogies. Feminist slow scholarship seeks to re-envision the university itself by challenging structures of power and inequality and calling attention to the value (and toil) of academic labor.” (p. 31)

So, back to the beginning. Back to feelings. In her take on surviving academia with mental illness, Walsh writes “Do I even have the right to write this story? is a voice in my head today, as I think about what I need to be doing on a Sunday morning to prepare for Monday…” Simply getting out of bed, reading an email, writing a sentence, let alone teaching can be a struggle for those of us who experience varying degrees of mental illness. When my friend Veronica interviewed me for her project, I told her it felt cathartic. I didn’t realize just how wrong it had felt to admit that teaching took almost everything out of me sometimes, that students’ blank stares, colleagues’ insinuations that my feminist, critical pedagogical methods were futile, and just the sheer number of instruction sessions (57, roughly 50% of all instruction this semester) may precipitate bouts of depression.

What kind of liberation is possible? Critical pedagogy asks us to be vulnerable with our students, but what if we already feel so very vulnerable, as if some imaginary membrane between us and the world barely exists? Where is the space for a radical, open vulnerability in the increasingly neoliberal academic landscape? Walsh’s suggestions for what inclusivity for academics could look like line up perfectly with the premise of slow scholarship. The one that stuck with me the most is simply acknowledging that academics (and librarians) with disabilities (of all kinds) exist. In meetings, in the classroom, in daily conversation. For me, this has involved being open about my feelings. It has also involved being intentional about making space for reflection as part of my teaching praxis, and demanding that that space be recognized as what it is: labor.

In other words, more of this. And more of this.***** Taking the time.

Notes:

*I attributed these perhaps unprofessional comments to my psychiatrist’s problematic gender politics because some might argue that BPD is the new hysteria, in that 70-71% of those diagnosed are women.

**This is not to deny the usefulness of psychiatric medicine and of diagnoses (I benefit greatly from my access to mental health care), but rather to highlight that it is not a linear path from the (imaginary) Dark Ages to now but rather a complex social history that is peppered with scientific advances but also informed by patriarchy, white supremacy, colonialism, and many other structures of domination. There’s SO much written on this, but you can start with Foucault!

***Epic thanks to my love Jacqueline Mabey for sharing her curatorial genius with me and to shero Kate Bahn for introducing me to this concept and for continuing to be the radical, feminist, punk rock economist and wonderful friend that she is.

****Note that this is not a quantitative study but just my initial reaction to reading the article. Of course, we cannot assume gender based on name (look at mine!), nor can we assume that the authors selected names that corresponded with the gender identity of the participants.

*****But does this boss really care about her or just care about her productivity? Do any of under late stage capitalism? Damn the man! 😉