Far Out Learning

I was (and continue to be) concerned that for some institutions, distance education via the Internet is in fact a below-the-radar way to increase class size and contain costs. Staring beyond the hype into a dystopian future, I envisioned classes of 200-plus students where no one but the underchallenged students and the overworked instructors realized what had been lost educationally. After all, who would know--or even notice--the number of virtual bodies in a virtual classroom?

I was particularly skeptical of the possibility that an online class, of whatever size, could effectively create what educators call a "community of learners." That is, a classroom environment in which students learn from each other as well as the instructor, and the class as a whole becomes a great deal more than the sum of its parts. I knew I could teach course content online, but could there be a true community of learners in a virtual classroom?

I learned the answers to these questions in 1997, when I taught my first online course in LEEP3 (Library Education Experimental Program), the new distance enrollment option at the University of Illinois Graduate School of Library and Information Science. What I found is that with the right use of the right technology, a virtual class can feel as real as a face-to-face, on-campus class. And the learning that goes on can be just as deep.

The first online course I taught was LIS 406: Youth Services Librarianship, for students interested in working with young people in schools or public libraries. The real-time sessions of the class met every Wednesday from 6 p.m. to 8 p.m. Of 22 students, 15 were off campus, in locations ranging from the Chicago suburbs to the Virgin Islands. Seven on-campus students logged in from their homes or from computer labs. During these sessions, we used two-way text chat, which allows students to contribute to class discussions or speak to each other; one-way audio, which allows the instructor to speak to the group via RealAudio; and scanned images and text for students to view.

In one live session, the evening's topic was library and literacy work with young children. About 10 minutes prior to class, students began going to our course's Web site and entering the virtual classroom. Once there, they could, by typing, greet and converse with their classmates as well as view an image related to that week's subject. As they settled in, the students also heard a recording of songs for children--"Head First and Belly Down" by the Singing Rainbow Youth Ensemble (Sister's Choice, 1992)--which helped people adjust their audio and provided further information on that evening's topic.

Student readings for the class focused on child development as it relates to language and literacy, and the multiple roles the school and public library can play during emergent literacy. Students had also discussed these subjects on the class's electronic bulletin board the previous week.

Once everyone was logged on, I began the class by reading aloud a scanned-in picture book. Students were able to turn--or, actually, click on--the pages at their own speed, and could see the pictures as clearly as if they had a front-row seat at a story hour. I had scrubbed out the text electronically so that students could experience the book as a pre-literate child would, relying entirely on voice and pictures for the story. In the class discussion that followed, students broke into small groups by "leaving" the communal classroom and "entering" virtual classrooms A, B, C, or D. During the small-group discussions, again via two-way text chat, each group listened to and discussed the songs they'd heard earlier and synthesized what they'd gleaned from their reading and the previous week's discussions. I also gave them group assignments.

An online discussion has a slower pace than one that takes place face-to-face, simply because when people are typing, there's a lag between comments and replies. Still, in 20 minutes, each group had laid out a brief thematic program of literacy activities for young children. When we reconvened, each group gave a short report, and the others chimed in with questions and feedback.

As with all class sessions, this lively discussion was recorded and archived so students could review the session later. Each small-group discussion was also archived, which meant that students not only participated in their group's discussion but were later able to "listen in" on all the other groups, as well. If they wanted to hear any lectures again, they could replay those, too.

During other sessions we hosted guest speakers, who broadcast either from the LEEP3 office or from remote locations via telephone. The speakers used PowerPoint slides or scanned images to illustrate their talks, and students could type their questions.

When LIS 406 met for its last session, I experienced the mix of feelings that comes at the end of a course gone well. Of course there was the large sigh of relief that accompanies the completion of any lengthy task. But there was also the twinge of sadness that comes with the end of something unique. The final class is the last time any of us, teacher or student, will be a member of this particular learning community--a community that developed its own rhythm, its own etiquette, and its own dynamics. LIS 406, however "virtual," felt completely real.

What made LIS 406 and subsequent online classes work? I think real-time interaction is key. Though RealAudio lectures can easily be recorded for later use--which is what many distance-ed programs do--dialing up a prerecorded lecture, no matter how engaging, is not the same as listening to a speaker who is right there and with whom you can interact. The students echoed this in their written comments about the class. "To be able to log on to a class and listen and react to a live lecture has been stimulating," said Kathryn Wood of St. Croix, Virgin Islands. "Frequently, people ask if I feel as if I know my classmates. I respond emphatically, "Yes." Or, as another student, Courtney Lowe of Kobe, Japan, put it: "Far from peering into a glowing screen, I was peering into the thoughts and experiences of student colleagues and professional instructors."

Another key to success is the presence during class of two university technical experts. When students have problems, they simply dial an 800 number to get immediate help. There's also an online "tech room" where students can go for technical advice during the live sessions. That means the instructor doesn't have to focus on anything but teaching.

A third important ingredient is what's come to be called library "boot camp." The university requires all distance-ed students to spend two weeks on campus the summer before they start classes. During this time, they take one of two required classes, learn technical skills, and, equally important, form close personal ties. "As a distance learning student," said Margaret Lewis Patone of Chicago, "I was forced to hone my HTML and other teenager-impressing skills, which would otherwise still be on my list of things to do, right between 'balance the checkbook' and 'learn to play the guitar.'"

Distance education makes sense for library education, especially for youth services and school librarianship. Why? Because traditional library education is not reaching enough people. The August 16, 1999, issue of Library Hotline had figures on job openings and job seekers posted at the placement center at last year's American Library Association Annual Conference. The "youth services" category, which includes children's and young adult librarians, listed 120 job openings--but only 28 job seekers. These numbers are one more indication of the ongoing shortage of youth services librarians and the growing need to make library education accessible to the youth services librarians of the future.

With only 56 ALA-accredited programs in the U.S. and Canada, there are many eager would-be librarians who can't enroll in an LIS program because of geographic limitations. Traditionally, geographic limitations have had a significant impact on women, who often cannot pull up stakes and relocate themselves and their families for the one to two years it would take to complete a degree. Nor do many women have the financial resources to leave their jobs and shoulder tuition payments at the same time. As consistently female-intensive specializations within a female-intensive field, school and public youth services librarianship are particularly in need of educational options for students limited by time and geographic mobility.

In a recent survey of library courses offered online, I found that only a handful of schools--Florida State University, Texas Woman's University, the University of Illinois, and Rutgers--offer youth services courses via the Internet. It may be a while before supply catches up with demand, but the gap will narrow as more schools realize the level of interest in online courses among youth services students. For example, here at the University of Illinois, 13 percent of on-campus LIS students indicate an interest in a career in school or youth services librarianship. By contrast, 28 percent of the currently enrolled LEEP3 students are headed toward youth services work.

In considering the ongoing proliferation of distance-ed courses, I am reminded of the old adage about fire: it's a good servant but a bad master. So, too, is technology. Heading into my first online course, I worried that the teaching would be edged out by the technology, leaving a course full of bells and whistles but empty of substance. This is a worst-case scenario of what can happen when technology is the master. When technology is the servant, however, it is simply a means to a pedagogical end.

If schools keep a steady eye on the important learning outcomes for professional LIS education, computer technology will let them deliver the kind of online courses needed by the growing numbers of distance-ed students who will become part of the next generation of youth services librarians.

In the February 1998 issue of American Libraries, "Internet Librarian" columnist Karen Schneider recounted a lecture she gave to a session of my online class. The draft Karen sent me to preview had one factual error: she described herself sitting in her New Jersey study lecturing to students gathered in a classroom on the University of Illinois campus. I reminded her that the students were not gathered in a single campus classroom, but were actually in New Hampshire, Chicago, the Virgin Islands, small Illinois towns, and in our own computer lab. Her response: "Oh yeah, I knew that, but I forgot--it really felt like all the students were right there."

Online Library Classes: How They Work

According to the American Library Association's online directory of accredited LIS programs (http://www.ala.org/alaorg/oa/lisdir.html.), most schools currently provide distance ed in some form. But their programs vary widely. Most common are courses taught at one or several off-campus locations. Instructors either travel to these remote sites, or use technology such as video conferencing.

In online education, the way we deliver instruction is described as either "synchronous" or "asynchronous." Synchronous instruction occurs in "real time," while asynchronous instruction can occur any time. Telephone conversations are synchronous; letter-writing is asynchronous. Actually, traditional, campus-based instruction has always consisted of synchronous and asynchronous parts. Instructors and students engage in synchronous communication during classroom lectures or discussions. But students also do assignments at home that teachers then read outside the classroom, and these interactions are, of course, asynchronous.

It's possible, in an online course, to mix asynchronous and synchronous instruction in a way similar to that of a traditional course. That's the approach taken by the distance-ed program at Illinois and, since my students and I have been happy with it, it's an approach I favor.

Many programs, however, see their primary audience as students whose lives would be disrupted by the regular time commitment required by real-time sessions, so most classes are still asynchronous--that is, students and instructors do not interact in real time. In a typical online course, students might listen to prerecorded lectures, use electronic bulletin boards for comments and discussions, and send e-mail messages to fellow students and the instructor.

Most distance programs require on-campus time: some require an initial on-campus stay lasting anywhere from three to 12 days. Some also require on-campus time each semester. For instance, distance-ed courses at Syracuse begin with a required on-campus stay of five days. Florida State University requires a three-day technology workshop when students begin the program. The University of Illinois requires an initial 12-day stay, and every subsequent course includes an on-campus session, typically one day.

Choosing a Program: What to Consider

1. Is it possible to earn an entire degree online? If not, how many credits must you complete on campus? What classes are available to distance students?

2. Do tenured or tenure-track faculty teach distance courses?

3. What computer technology--hardware, software, and technical support--will you need? Could your workplace provide access to any of this?

3. What technological support and resources does the school provide? Is technical support readily available? Can they support Macs? PCs? Is there an 800 number?

4. What library services and resources does the program provide? Do courses make use of online reserve readings? What about delivery of hard copy, interlibrary loan, or photocopies via mail or fax? What reference services are provided?

5. What is the mix of synchronous vs. asynchronous instruction? Are you available for regularly scheduled class meetings, or do you need the flexibility of classes you can take on your own time?

6. How much time is required on campus?