Navigating the internet as a doctoral candidate becomes a bit more difficult than it [...]]]> Myra Ann Houser is a doctoral candidate in African History at Howard University in Washington, DC. She blogs about the dissertation-writing process, current events, life in Washington, DC, and related issues at myraramblings.wordpress.com and tweets as @myramt.

Navigating the internet as a doctoral candidate becomes a bit more difficult than it did for some of our straight-to-work peers.  Seven-ish years in school provides for a lot of time for status updates that might offend or alienate a future employer, and cleaning up a Facebook profile can involve more than merely taking down a couple of photos from the undergrad years.  The arrested development of graduate education often leaves us feeling like we can live large on the internet, up until the moment when those seven years of tweets suddenly become a topic in an employment interview.  As a result, acting professional on personal social networks seems to be an often elusive goal for doctoral students, and I have watched peers struggle after mis-judging their abilities to network, sometimes with professionally damaging consequences.

I’ve had friends who shut down completely, refusing to use social media even for professional networking as well as those who press on, determined to be themselves and remain sure that future employers who truly desire them will be all too happy to overlook those angry rants.  The truth is that both of those options can backfire.  Social media is great not only for strictly professional networking, but also for creating the types of personal connections that sometimes lead to professional opportunities, and by the same token, in today’s academic job climate future universities have the opportunity (and right) to be picky and hone in on seemingly benign comments.

The following guidelines have helped me during this process.  Even when not strictly following them, having them in place can force us to consider how to navigate the networks:

Use your full name, and link sites
Although people do occasionally find themselves in hot water due to a blog post with a name attached, I’ve seen friends boiling due to posts on an anonymous blog.  Anonymity seems to make us more candid, and the veil of secrecy facilitates an environment where it seems okay to let the nasty out.  Using a real name helps with the diplomacy factor, as does linking social media accounts.  If you’re aware that people can find your blog–and from that your Facebook or Twitter–from LinkedIn, diplomacy may come easier.  Similarly, knowing that personal audiences might find that professional networking account helps keep the overly-jargonized talk down, which is actually helpful with an employer who has two minutes to spare for your online CV than a wordy project description requiring time and detail.

Think about your current institution’s personality
Activist schools where most professors are involved in social outreach are dramatically different than more typical Ivory Tower institutions where faculty rarely comment on events outside of a narrow field.  Knowing which type yours is not only helps with staying on good terms in the current department, but also gives you an idea of what type of institution you’re likely to be hired at and, thus, what audience a blog should be directed to.  If individuals from Activist School rarely make it into the Ivory Tower in your discipline, you may have a little more room to comment on current events without fearing that someone will see you speaking out of turn.  Conversely, Activist School may be looking for someone engaged with a broader field, so a narrowly-focused but in-depth commentary from Ivory Tower may not be what they’re looking for.

Don’t write about professors; don’t write about students
This should be filed under “things that don’t need to be said,” but it often seems not to be.  Besides the obvious potential conflict with a professor you’ve badmouthed or harsh phone call from an outraged parent, there are often larger messages in these gripes.  Complaining about professors can signal a lack of ability to accept authority or follow instructions—something that can carry over even when seeking employment outside of academia.  Detailed complaints about students (which I see surprisingly often) can signal impatience or an inability to maturely handle sensitive information—something that, again, can carry implications even outside of academia.  So follow the old “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all” maxim.

Be respectful of friends and family
Personal contacts are not necessarily that much more open to criticism/complaint than strictly professional ones.  To be honest, I’ve been surprised at the degree to which people seem flattered to be mentioned on my own small blog, but it’s possible that Great Grandma Q may not want her ancient apple pie recipe on the internet.  Since you’re already linking all of your networks, use good etiquette when talking about someone and link back to them.  Provide an opportunity for readers to find their Facebook page, and tag them in the post that links to the blog.  If you’re not sure how a post will be received, send a copy to the subject before publishing.

Let it simmer
I rarely publish anything (including status updates) less than twenty-four hours after I write it.  Even when observing the first few guidelines, things slip through.  That joke suddenly seems hateful rather than charming.  The post you wrote at 2 a.m. needs way more details in order to make sense.  Let it sit for a bit, and see how it looks the next day.  You can edit or delete posts, but sometimes the damage has already been done, or the post has already been downloaded and saved elsewhere.  A little TLC can be helpful.

Have a plan
Planning blog posts, or even status updates, helps ideas to marinate (see previous point).  It also guarantees that you will have something to write about in a pinch and won’t have to dredge up yesterday’s conflict-ridden committee meeting.  Keep a calendar, keep a list of ideas, or whatever you need to do.  If you feel compelled to talk, having something planned to fill the space helps you avoid off-the-cuff stuff that you might regret later, and it helps you have time to think through what you’ll be writing.

Be responsible for re-posts and quotes
There are conflicting opinions on this, but the bottom line is that if it appears on your wall it is ultimately your responsibility.  That article with the snide comment at the bottom may seem otherwise readable, but there remains a lot of room for interpretation.  If you have lukewarm feelings about something that you re-post, say so.  If you don’t know what to think of it, throw it out with a discussion question. The assumption that “someone else really said it” doesn’t always hold true for outsiders reading the blog or wall. If it appears on your network—even if it didn’t come from your mouth or pen—it’s yours.

Google yourself
Many young professionals assume that it’s good to be on the lookout for potential negative information, but it’s just as important to find positive information that you can link back to your sites.  A friend once found out that he’d received a fellowship by logging onto the organization’s website; his notification letter had been lost in the mail.  It’s important to control your own representation of yourself, but also important to attempt control over outside interpretations.  So type in your name every couple of months, and hope that all surprises are positive.

Following every part of a code of conduct in every post or update can be difficult.  There are often exceptions to these rules, but I’ve found them helpful in beginning to confidently blog and tweet without fearing a years-away scenario involving hastily sanitizing the internet.  What self-policed rules have you implemented?

Think Outside the LMS

In early May, my wife, our two small children and I will pack up our serendipitously named 2003 Honda Odyssey and travel 262 miles from our [...]]]> Nick Sproull is an administrator at the NCAA finishing his Master of Arts in Education at Michigan State University, @nsproull.

Think Outside the LMS

In early May, my wife, our two small children and I will pack up our serendipitously named 2003 Honda Odyssey and travel 262 miles from our home near Indianapolis to the campus of Michigan State University. There I will proudly don my newest prized possession: my master’s hood. However, unlike many others who will also walk through such a ceremony this spring, this trip is different in that it will be just my third time on campus as 100% of my degree has been completed online.

Some have asked why I would go to the trouble of sitting in a hot gymnasium for two hours only receive a fake diploma. It is a fair question. In part, I want to chronicle the event for my children so that they can see that Daddy likes to learn. But more importantly, and surprising to those who have asked, I feel impelled to take part in the ceremony because I am eager to meet in person the professors with whom I have connected with so well online.

Online vs. Brick & Mortar
Skeptics of online education often argue that the absence of live, human interaction dilutes the learning experience and cannot provide a sense of community among students. My experience suggests the contrary. I have connected with a number of my MSU instructors and classmates at deeper and more authentic level than many previously taken traditional undergraduate or graduate courses.

The difference, as with any brick and mortar course, lies in pedagogy. Online coursework, often facilitated by a Learning Management System (LMS) can have certain limitations. Faculty who trust the threaded discussions within the LMS to provide a meaningful learning experience should not be surprised by students who seem disengaged. The LMS is just one among many tools instructors can use to create an effective online learning experience.

Web 2.0 Tools
Courses that integrated the use of “Web 2.0 tools” (web applications that facilitate interaction, collaboration and interactivity) created the greatest sense of connectedness among classmates and instructors.

Facebook: One course took place entirely on Facebook. Despite my initial cynicism, Dr. David Wong successfully leveraged the magic of Facebook to facilitate interaction in a way that proved to be more personal than any traditional course I have taken. Through the use of videos, comments, photos, “Likes,” and other Facebook features, I interacted with my classmates – both personally and academically – in a more substantive way than most traditional courses I have taken.

Blogs: In another course, Dr. Kyle Greenwalt made extensive use of the blogosphere to facilitate interaction.  Writing assignments within the course mirrored the familiar “post and respond” approach frequently found in threaded discussions within an LMS. However, taking that approach and placing it in the blogosphere created a highly dynamic learning experience. The creation of a course-specific blogs allowed us to express our personalities through the use of images, graphics and hyperlinks in a way that is unattainable through an LMS. Accordingly, discussions within the course were more sincere and engaging, which fostered a deeper sense of community among classmates.

WordPress: The Capstone course for the program taught by Dr. Matt Koehler (along with frequent GradHacker contributor Andrea Zellner) guided students through the creation of an online portfolio – a Web 2.0 activity in and of itself. Once again, the LMS was abandoned in favor of a tool called WordPress – a personal publishing platform – to host the course.  Beyond the elements typically found in an LMS (chat rooms, threaded discussions etc.), our WordPress course site included an interactive roster (using Globally Recognized Avatars – aka Gravatars), a media-rich syllabus, and a sync-enabled Google Docs Calendar. Within each module of the course, instructors introduced important themes and reminders with embedded YouTube videos. Writing prompts from tumblr – a social network/microblogging site – served as fun “get to know you’s” throughout the course as well. The aggregate of these resources promoted the development of relationships that at worst matched, and at best exceeded, traditional classroom settings.

The Relationship Precedes the Handshake
Indeed, those who lament the growth of online learning at the postsecondary level have arguments that are valid and worthy of conversation and research. Generalizations that cast the entire online delivery model as an inferior substitute for traditional classroom instruction, however, are and misinformed and inaccurate.

When I initially made the decision to pursue a master’s degree, I was determined to find a program that would provide more than a token diploma. I wanted a program that would deliver a rich and meaningful learning experience. High quality curriculum paired with authentic connections via Web 2.0 tools has made for a most excellent educational experience.  Though I feel that I already know many of the instructors I have learned from throughout the program, I am eager to finally shake their hands and meet them face to face to say, “Thank you.”

Before we jump in [...]]]> As a former High School English teacher, I have experienced the overwhelming tsunami of having to provide feedback on a weekly basis to ~150 students. Between that experience and my more recent experiences teaching online students, I’ve thought a lot about providing feedback on student writing and student products.

Before we jump in to resources and tips, I want to make one thing abundantly clear. Providing feedback is not the same as a giving a grade. I subscribe to the Dr. Jeff Grabill school of thinking on this who responded to me once in this way: “Grading is too late for revision feedback.”  So what I mean when I say feedback is that an instructor or peer provides information to the student about the student’s product in a manner that allows the student to then revise the product for the better. So what are some ways to manage the time-consuming task of giving students opportunities to receive feedback?

1.Verbal feedback is powerful. In face-to-face settings, we call this “conferencing.” A student and teacher (or student and student) read and respond to the piece of writing or other product under construction. In online courses, this can be more difficult to manage. Google Hangouts allow for synchronous conferencing with the added bonus of integrating with Google Docs. In one course online course I taught, we used Jing to provide Screencasted feedback on student’s in-progress online course designs (I know: an online course about designing online courses. How lucky am I?) TechSmith has recently revamped their screencasting services, and have provided a great tutorial on providing personalized feedback using ScreenChomp.

2. Asynchronous written feedback: From old-fashioned comments scribbled in the margins to newly developing collaborative software, I would hazard a guess that the majority of feedback students receive is of this variety. Within the disciplines, it may be most important to focus on discipline-specific nuances of the writing, and feedback should focus on the ways the arguments are made. In more developmental writing courses, the focus might be on best ways of making meaning or lengthening pieces. (I still don’t believe marking every grammatical mistake helps anyone. But that’s another post). Students should be given feedback that they immediately can apply to improve the quality of the product, whatever it is. In terms of feedback on a piece of writing, Google Docs is impressive for its commenting feature. I also enjoy reflecting on my own revision history (a Google Docs feature), especially once I’ve received feedback on my own writing. This type of reflection is another way to help developing writers make the growth of their writing more visible. In terms of facilitating peer feedback, which is incredibly powerful if done correctly, I’ve seen no equal to the Eli Review (full disclosure: I know the creators from Michigan State).  For instructors seeking a better way to facilitate the peer review process, Eli allows for not only the feedback, but for all involved to assess the quality of the feedback.

In the end, feedback needs to be provided in a timely manner, during the process of creation, and well before the final product is assessed.

What are your favorite tools for facilitating student feedback? Let us know in the comments!

About a month ago, I got really lucky.  My school sent out [...]]]> John Garrison Marks is a PhD graduate student in History at Rice University.  His dissertation compares the experiences of free people of color in two port cities of the Americas during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Find him on Twitter @johngmarks.

About a month ago, I got really lucky.  My school sent out an e-mail notifying me that the following week would be “Fulbright Week,” and that they would be offering a series of panels to bring me up to speed and prepare me for the application process.  I had been planning for a while to apply for a Fulbright to fund my dissertation research on race and slavery in nineteenth-century Colombia, so I was happy Rice had a whole week devoted to getting prepared.  As I started looking into the process more deeply, I had a momentary sense of panic as I realized I should have started months before I did.

So I started looking around online to see what other people have said about the application process, and information was surprisingly hard to come by.  There’s lots of information about the program—where you can go, what types of projects you can do, deadlines—but remarkably little written by people who have gone through, or are going through, the process themselves.  With that in mind, here are some things that have worked for me in this process so far.

1. Start Early: This one I can’t stress enough.  Since the national application deadline is in mid-October (the 15^th this year, to be exact), there’s not much time to get things done if you wait until the fall semester starts.  Thankfully, I was able to get a funding application in to my department for a pre-application/pre-dissertation research trip this summer—the trip is long enough to strengthen my application, but short enough not to hurt it.  I’m also going to need all the time I can get for all the revisions and edits I’ll need to distill my dissertation and life story into three pages (THREE!), so starting this far in advance is crucial.   Not only that, but a lot of the people I need to be in contact with during this process (professors, administrators, scholars in the target country) are only available during the academic year, so I had to rush to catch them before the end of the semester, rather than risk not being able to contact them over the summer.  Which brings me to my next point…

2. Talk to People: And by “people,” I mean “everyone.” I started by talking with my advisor in Latin American history, and branched out from there.  She told me about her Fulbright experience, and put me in contact with a current grad student in my department who had just successfully gone through the process.  So I talked to her, and others who had gone through the process as well, to get some first-hand information and application samples.  I shot an e-mail to a professor I kind of knew in the Hispanic Studies department, who does research in Venezuela and Colombia, to see if he had contacts at a Colombian university for my institutional affiliation (he did: his brother in law).  So I talked to said brother in law, and got names of other historians at his university who do research similar to mine.  It was a bit intimidating at first to be basically cold e-mailing scholars I’d never met or spoken with before (in a foreign language, no less), but everyone I have spoken with about the Fulbright process so far has been incredibly helpful and kind.  Just by talking and e-mailing with a series of grad students and scholars, I was able to fairly painlessly obtain a letter of institutional affiliation.

3. Put Together a Support Group: Okay, maybe it’s not quite a “support group,” but it will probably get pretty close.  I sent out an e-mail through my school’s Graduate Student Association asking other graduate students who might be interested in working cooperatively on their Fulbright applications over the summer to get in contact with me, and a few have (side note: if anyone reading this post would like to join, there’s still room!)  Like a lot of people, I work best under a deadline, even if that deadline is fairly arbitrary and self-imposed.  Having a group with which to share drafts of my personal statement and research proposal every few weeks will be incredibly helpful.  Not to mention, a lot of graduate school is a fairly solitary experience, so I’m looking forward to having new group to go through this process with.

So that’s pretty much where I’ve gotten thus far.  Right now I’m working on drafting my research proposal and personal statement to share with my support group in a couple weeks, and in August, I’ll be going to Colombia to pick up my letter of institutional affiliation in person while on my research trip.  Over the next few months I’ll be focusing on how to frame my project proposal in a way that will be most appealing to Fulbright, and how to craft my personal statement to explain why I am the person most capable of facilitating this kind of cultural exchange. No big deal.

Do you have any tips about the Fulbright application process? Have you already come across troubles for this year’s application that you’d like to share?

[Image by Flickr user  fabulousfabs and used under the Creative Commons license.]

I’m not sure if this Grad Student phenomenon has a name yet, but I’ll give it one – “The mid-degree crisis”. You are about two years into your degree, but still two (or more) years [...]]]> This is a guest post by Kaitlin Gallagher, a PhD student in Kinesiology at the University of Waterloo.

I’m not sure if this Grad Student phenomenon has a name yet, but I’ll give it one – “The mid-degree crisis”. You are about two years into your degree, but still two (or more) years away from finishing. Most of your structured requirements are finished, but you’ve done less than half the work that you’ll need to do for your degree. And one day… you can’t remember why you pursued your PhD to begin with.

I’m about a year and a half into my PhD. My reading has become very specific as I prepare my thesis, I’ve probably made over 50 flow charts, and I tend to think about my research more often than not. I can tell you why my thesis topic is important. But a couple months ago I was having a hard time remembering why I wanted to pursue a PhD. I didn’t think much of it at first until over time I realized that I had no answer the two major questions that we all should be continually be asking ourselves: (1) Why am I doing this degree and (2) What do I want to get out of it?

I always wanted to go into research so academia seemed like the logical place to allow me to do that. If I don’t go into academia, then what will I do?  I like to write and am interested in the research process and communicating my work so maybe a career as an editor is an option. Would I be a prime candidate once my degree was done if I continued things in the same way I was now? There was always the post-doc option, but would I be delaying the inevitable or helping my future? I then began to ask why I chose this thesis topic? Should I have done a different degree? Did I regret skipping Masters to go straight into a PhD? …Should I quit?

I had these visions of running into a wall. I would be handed my degree at convocation, walk off the stage…and walk straight into a wall. If I didn’t want to apply to academic positions, would I be completely out of work? Would it be worth the extra years in grad school for a job I could get after my Bachelors degree?

And that was when I had my mid-degree crisis. I felt mentally paralyzed. I couldn’t work on my thesis, but my mind wasn’t clear enough to re-assess what I should be doing for myself. I had to finally come to grips with telling my supervisor about my recent spiral. Sharing this information with someone was a start to not feeling guilty about it anymore. I removed myself from my work for about a week. I needed to remember that my thesis was only a part of my life, and the stress of it should not consume my life.

I began to reflect on what made me interested in pursuing a PhD. A quote by Dr. Suzanne Fortier, the current president of the Natural Science and Engineering Research Council in Canada, reminded me why I began this journey in. When asked if Canada was producing too many PhDs, Dr. Fortier responded:

“If you asked me, are we training too many people to become university professors, I think the answer is yes. Are we training too many highly educated people who are encouraged to be creative and to push the advancement of knowledge, I’d say definitely not.”

Be creative and push the advancement of knowledge…. I wanted a summer research job so that I could learn how to answer questions and be a part of advancing my field. I was happiest when I was writing and dedicating time to thinking about my work. It allowed me to begin to make connections, discuss findings, and the implications of my work our field. I am not a person of many words, but I like having conversations with anyone about their research, from Rhetoric to Bioinformatics, because listening to other people talk about their field has always been interesting. I had completely lost sight of this.

In my reflections, here are some questions that I thought about and were most important to me so far (this is by no means exhaustive and I would love to add it):

• What did I like about research before I officially pursued my degree?
• How did I decide on my thesis topic?
• What aspect of the research process do I enjoy the most?
• What aspect of the research process causes me the most anxiety?
• Are there any skills that I currently don’t have that would be transferable no matter what career I decide to pursue?
• How is the stress and anxiety from school affecting the rest of my life? Is it worth it? How can make the anxiety more manageable?

Taking time to reflect is beneficial in all parts of life. Consistent reflection will make me a better research scientist, because the questions of why are we are studying a certain topic and what questions we want our studies to answer are the fundamental to research. In our personal lives, it can open our eyes to what we truly want, and for some people, may allow for the realization that pursuing a degree is not in line with what they want in life.

The uncertainty surrounding life after convocation still looms. Reflecting has been long and exhausting, but I am beginning to figure what is important to me, both within and outside of school. We must remember that a PhD is a marathon, so we need to consistently take time away from work to reassess our priorities both at the research and personal levels. By checking in with ourselves, we can begin to build the life that we want and create a door to walk through in the wall waiting for us at the end of our degree.

Have you had a similar experience midway through your degree? How did you cope? What questions do you think are important to reflect on at the beginning and over the course of a degree?

[Image courtesy of Flickr user @boetter with Creative Commons License]