I updated the marker-board drawing in my office. Thought I'd share. And, yep, we can sure use your caring and talents, if you'd pour them out on us. Thanks!
Thursday, May 2, 2019
Monday, April 15, 2019
Monday, April 1, 2019
The Best April Fool's Prank I Ever Played
Posted by Leslie Oswald in Les Oswald's Blog on Apr 1, 2019 11:13:00 AM
When I was a broadcasting student at a small Idaho college, I made friends with the local radio announcers. One of these friends was on the air, spinning records, and performing his "patter" in between the songs. He included in his comments how hungry he was and how hard it was to work while hungry. It was just natural for me to go by a sandwich shop and pick him up a foot-long sandwich. They wrapped it up in aluminum foil. I brought it to him at the radio studio while it was still warm and set it on the counter where he was working.
"What's that?" he asked.
"You said you were hungry, so I got you a sandwich," I told him.
"I know what day it is today! The last thing you'd bring me on April First is a real sandwich!"
"Okay, I'll take it away."
"No, no! Leave it right there. How do I know it's a sandwich?"
"Well, you open it up and eat it. In fact, you'll want to eat it while it's still warm. What else could it be?"
"I don't know. You could have wrapped up warm clay or something."
"Okay, I'll eat it."
"No, no! Don't take that anywhere!"
We went around like that for almost ten minutes before he gave in, unwrapped his sandwich and ate it. He was so on guard against being pranked. I completely enjoyed his reaction. So the best April Fool's prank I ever played wasn't a prank at all. It was operating outside of expectations.
Tuesday, January 15, 2019
What Kind of Feedback Are We Feeding Back?
Having been an instructional developer for computer-based training and eLearning for many years, providing effective feedback to learners is ingrained in my heart. Everyone knows that learning is reinforced with feedback. Everyone knows, too, that feedback comes in two flavors, “carrot” and “stick.” That’s better described as “positive” and “negative” feedback. I actually remember the days when elementary school teachers would reward good behavior with putting a sticker of a star on students’ foreheads. Some kids went out of their way to gather up multiple stickers.
In the early days of interactive videodisc, we developers were enamored with the new technology. We pushed the positive and negative aspects of our feedback to the extreme. We’d show fireworks displays for every correct answer. Wrong answers garnered an actor coming onscreen making sad faces and saying, “I’m so sorry you got that wrong.” That negative feedback backfired on us, though. Our adult learners found the actors so entertaining, they’d intentionally choose wrong answers to see them! We learned to dial back the feedback intensity, saving the fireworks and faces for the completion of the entire quiz.
I’m distinguishing between assessments and straight instructions, here. We expect appropriate feedback with a quiz. At some point in instruction, though, the feedback gets in the way of learning. Even today, developers are inclined to show a slide that says, “You clicked the right button. Click ‘Next’ to continue.” or “That was incorrect. Click ‘Back’ to try again.” Why can’t the learner just be moved along in the process? Isn’t that positive enough? Why can’t the tutorial indicate a misstep and then just wait until the learner chooses the correct item? Isn’t that negative enough? What are we trying to teach here anyway? A new system or process? Surely it’s not how to navigate the tutorial… yet, that’s the net result of most of our feedback, how to move along in the lesson.
So I had unusual interest when I caught a rebroadcast of NPR’s Hidden Brain program, called, When Everything Clicks: The Power Of Judgment-Free Learning. The concept is to reduce all feedback. Borrowing a page from the dog-training profession, there’s no negative feedback… none at all. The only positive feedback is a “click” sound, provided by the trainer, when the learner (canine or human) maneuvers to the correct position to perform the desired task. No “Great job” or “You finally got it!” Just a non-emotional, non-judgmental indication that the sub-task is correct.
No one wants to be treated like a dog. But whether the instruction was for throwing a Frisbee, or performing close-in orthopedic surgery, the reduced feedback method was surprisingly effective with human learners. “Rotate your wrist until you hear the click.” “There.” “Click.” No distraction. No emotion. No frustration. (Give a listen to the podcast. It might just surprise you,)
Now, when I review an eLearning module, I’ve added a couple more questions to my review list, “Is this feedback really needed? Is it carrying its own instructional weight?” Though I haven’t sent anything back to a developer to be re-worked, I have started the conversation. I have modified the feedback in my own modules with an eye toward reducing the the starts and stops of excessive feedback and unneeded detours. This is the third flavor, “cut to the chase.”
I’ve reached an age where learning something new is its own pleasure. I don’t need artificial praise to keep me motivated. I’m able to stay for the long haul.
Besides, I would look pretty silly with my silver-gray hair and a star on my forehead.
In the early days of interactive videodisc, we developers were enamored with the new technology. We pushed the positive and negative aspects of our feedback to the extreme. We’d show fireworks displays for every correct answer. Wrong answers garnered an actor coming onscreen making sad faces and saying, “I’m so sorry you got that wrong.” That negative feedback backfired on us, though. Our adult learners found the actors so entertaining, they’d intentionally choose wrong answers to see them! We learned to dial back the feedback intensity, saving the fireworks and faces for the completion of the entire quiz.
I’m distinguishing between assessments and straight instructions, here. We expect appropriate feedback with a quiz. At some point in instruction, though, the feedback gets in the way of learning. Even today, developers are inclined to show a slide that says, “You clicked the right button. Click ‘Next’ to continue.” or “That was incorrect. Click ‘Back’ to try again.” Why can’t the learner just be moved along in the process? Isn’t that positive enough? Why can’t the tutorial indicate a misstep and then just wait until the learner chooses the correct item? Isn’t that negative enough? What are we trying to teach here anyway? A new system or process? Surely it’s not how to navigate the tutorial… yet, that’s the net result of most of our feedback, how to move along in the lesson.
So I had unusual interest when I caught a rebroadcast of NPR’s Hidden Brain program, called, When Everything Clicks: The Power Of Judgment-Free Learning. The concept is to reduce all feedback. Borrowing a page from the dog-training profession, there’s no negative feedback… none at all. The only positive feedback is a “click” sound, provided by the trainer, when the learner (canine or human) maneuvers to the correct position to perform the desired task. No “Great job” or “You finally got it!” Just a non-emotional, non-judgmental indication that the sub-task is correct.
No one wants to be treated like a dog. But whether the instruction was for throwing a Frisbee, or performing close-in orthopedic surgery, the reduced feedback method was surprisingly effective with human learners. “Rotate your wrist until you hear the click.” “There.” “Click.” No distraction. No emotion. No frustration. (Give a listen to the podcast. It might just surprise you,)
Now, when I review an eLearning module, I’ve added a couple more questions to my review list, “Is this feedback really needed? Is it carrying its own instructional weight?” Though I haven’t sent anything back to a developer to be re-worked, I have started the conversation. I have modified the feedback in my own modules with an eye toward reducing the the starts and stops of excessive feedback and unneeded detours. This is the third flavor, “cut to the chase.”
I’ve reached an age where learning something new is its own pleasure. I don’t need artificial praise to keep me motivated. I’m able to stay for the long haul.
Besides, I would look pretty silly with my silver-gray hair and a star on my forehead.
Monday, November 19, 2018
Expressionless Expressions
There are a couple of expressions in English that have left question marks in my brain. Just what thought are they trying to communicate? The first is, "burning the candle at both ends." Of course, that's the expression for being immensely busy. Whenever I hear it, I imagine a burning candle with flames simultaneously burning both ends of the wick. You get twice the light at twice the expense. And, you burn out twice as fast. Besides, where are you going to get a candlestick to hold such a candle? So, I suspected that it had lost its meaning as an expression.
I didn't do any special research or anything. I just turned that expression over and over in my head, trying to make it make sense. Then it came to me: So busy that they're "burning the candle at both ends of the day." Aah! Now it makes sense. That's working pre-dawn to post-dusk... pretty busy.
The other mysterious expression is, "happy as a clam." I couldn't figure out how clams were known to be happy. "Happy as a lark," maybe. Meadowlarks are birds that act joyfully and sing energetically. "Happy as a clam?" ...not so much.
This one took a little research. It turns out that the meaningful part of this expression has been lost over the years. The original expression was, "as happy as a clam at high tide," or "...at high water." (Thanks, Phrase Finder.) Having grown up on the Monterey Peninsula, I've witnessed tide mechanics. I get how high tide will bring clams their nutrients and make them happy. Now, the whole expression makes sense.
I don't think there's any need to change these expressions in your writing. I do think it's better to use them mindfully to express exactly what you want.
Wednesday, November 14, 2018
The Secret of the Gold Nugget
Everything we create needs to be focused on one item. It's true whether we're producing a video, writing a page, developing an eLearning module, or creating any business asset. That one item is the "gold nugget" of what you're trying to convey. You ought to be able to state the asset's gold nugget in one statement. Doing that helps define the point. Every graphic, every scenario, every supporting detail has to point at the gold nugget. If not, then it gets lost in the flood. If the supporting details point in a dozen directions, they become distractions and obstacles. When they do their job, we put that gold nugget within the grasp of our intended audience.
I used to teach computer programming and scripting in career colleges. I was amazed at how willing students were to deep dive into the minutiae of a topic before getting down the fundamental principles . What did they find? "What a complicated topic!" "Why can't I grasp this part?" "What a maze!" What I found was what I cut out of a lesson is just as important as what I put in. Does this piece point to my gold nugget or does it distract from it?
I have an actual rock that I painted gold and set on my desk. It reminds me to focus on the gold nugget.
Thursday, July 12, 2018
English Spelling: We Haven't Got a Chance!
I Love Lucy was THE pioneering situation comedy of the television industry, taking advantage of Lucille Ball's comic genius and Desi Arnaz's production and business acumen. Even as a child of the television era, I was inundated with I Love Lucy reruns. So my life's running joke is: I Don't Care For Lucy.
There's one classic scene, though, where Lucy tries to explain to Ricky, her Cuban husband, how to pronounce words which end in "-ough." He responds with, "Well, I've had enough! Or should I say, 'enoo'? ...Why do you have to have such a crazy language anyway?" It's hilarious because it's true. Is there any wonder that spelling is such an issue for all of us?
So, what's the rule? No rule. We just have to memorize the words. So here I am, almost 70 years later, designing a cheat-sheet to help Ricky get it.
If spelling well helps us with our professionalism, then here's a boost. Oh, and let's use whatever tools MS Office and Grammarly can offer us.
There's one classic scene, though, where Lucy tries to explain to Ricky, her Cuban husband, how to pronounce words which end in "-ough." He responds with, "Well, I've had enough! Or should I say, 'enoo'? ...Why do you have to have such a crazy language anyway?" It's hilarious because it's true. Is there any wonder that spelling is such an issue for all of us?
So, what's the rule? No rule. We just have to memorize the words. So here I am, almost 70 years later, designing a cheat-sheet to help Ricky get it.
If spelling well helps us with our professionalism, then here's a boost. Oh, and let's use whatever tools MS Office and Grammarly can offer us.
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