Pandemic Teaching: A Survival Guide for College Faculty

I'm happy to announce the availability of a new professional development book, which is the first in a series called—you guessed it—Lion Tamers Guide to Teaching. This new book is called Pandemic Teaching: A Survival Guide for College Faculty and is available in most channels for download at no cost.

As teaching faculty across the globe scramble to move their on-campus courses to a remote-learning format, as a veteran teaching mentor, I'm using the new book to provide a quick and dirty survival guide to get things started—and keep things going. Having had the experience of moving from on-campus to online teaching, I leverage my failures and triumphs into a quick guide to what's important and what's not as you make your transition in this crazy time of pandemic teaching. 

The first section of the book provides a list of quick tips, strategies, and helpful mindsets—all based on my real-life practical experience based on evidence-based strategies. The second part of the book expands on some of those quick tips to give further advice for implementing them.

Written in an informal, conversational style, this book gives useful advice and empathetic support as you survive your own experience of pandemic teaching.

Pandemic Teaching: A Survival Guide for College Faculty is an eBook and downloadable from several channels, with more being added as the book roll-out continues. It's a short, approximately 2-hour read—so not a burden to get through during this hectic time for all of us. It's not discipline-specific, either, so please share it with your colleagues and with your institutions' teaching support center. Although written for "college faculty" it is just as useful for K-12 teachers, I think.

In the book, I describe Lion Tamers Guide to Teaching as a collection of resources for teachers to improve teaching effectiveness as well as rapport with students. As I've said for years, “all I really need to know about teaching I learned as a lion tamer,” because my early experience as a wild animal trainer and apprentice lion tamer taught me not only the core principles of learning science—it taught me how to gain the trust of students and form the kind of empathetic and compassionate bond that promotes learning.

The more of us who can share it using the link https://books2read.com/u/3RN7Yn the more faculty will have access to the help it provides. I'm asking you each to please share the link with FIVE colleagues! 

Seat!

Lions on their seats

Today was the first day of classes for my youngest son, who is very excited to start fourth grade.  He's already met his teacher and a couple of days ago, we all went to his classroom where he found his assigned seat and got himself all set up with his school supplies.  His teacher went over a couple of things regarding what to expect when you start fourth grade in her classroom.

This is important.  Whether you're starting a new fourth grade class or a new semester in college, making your students comfortable on the first day is important.  They need to know how to find their seat and know that they'll be okay there.  And they need to know what fun they'll have in the classroom.

Most lions and tigers in a circus act go through the same process.

First, a lion is coaxed into the arena. They feel safe in their dens and don't really want to go out and explore. I know we think they just can't wait to escape, but they're usually terrified of getting out of their safe haven.

If the lion doesn't have a good time during their first time in the arena, it will be hard to get them to go back. Luckily, they've already met the teacher.  He or she is the one who has been feeding them, caring for them, spending time with them, and talking to them.  The next thing is show the lion his seat.  That's the pedestal assigned to him (and only him).  Just like in fourth grade.  It's a "home away from home" in this new place.

For lions, we coax them up onto the seat.  A gentle nudge, some soothing verbal coaxing, a tidbit of meat . . . and the lion is on his seat.  We say "Seat!" or "Platz! [place!]" or something like that.  So that the lion gets conditioned to the signal to go to his assigned seat.

Then we coax the lion down from his seat.  Partly so we can then say, "Seat!" and get him back onto his pedestal. Such repetition is needed for learning, right?  But it's partly to get him out exploring his new "classroom."  Just like on fourth-grade back-to-school night when my son and all his classmates were excitedly exploring their new classroom.

Thus, a lion gets comfortable with the arena--both the parts that belong to him and the parts that are shared.

It's also a good opportunity to see what the lion likes to do when he plays.  Is he scared of that big barrel or does he try to get it to roll?  Does he like climbing on props or does he prefer slinking under them?  Does he instead seem to like jumping over them?  This knowledge will be used by the lion tamer to figure out what kind of things each lion will excel at, or at least how to get him interested in learning new behaviors.

Also, we learn what things the lion is kinda scared of.  So we can be more careful with those things that might cause some initial fear.

Likewise, a teacher can get to know a lot about the strengths and weaknesses of new students by chatting with them as they explore their new classroom.

When called back to "Seat!" the lion also learns which behaviors are acceptable while seated and which are not.  Turning around is not good.  The lion tamer needs the attention of each animal pretty much all the time.  Also, turning around to face the audience could be frightening to the circus patrons!  Laying down and snoozing (a favorite pastime of lions): also not good.  Jumping down from the pedestal without being called down by the tamer: really bad.  Distracting the other cats: not acceptable.

Another crucial element during a lion's first experience in the arena is how to get out quickly, safely, and comfortably.  Usually, the command is something like, "Go home!" or "House!" or something along those lines.  Usually, it's accompanied by the additional cue of the exit door rattling.  This is important.  Not only to get everyone out in an orderly way.  But if something bad happens, like a fight or attack or a fire, then all the remaining cats can be evacuated before they get hurt.

So what are some practical applications of these ideas?  Consider these practices to help your students get comfortable right away?

• Be conscious of the fact that nearly all of your students will first enter your course with some hesitation.  
• So making an effort to be particularly soothing and welcoming can be very effective.
  
• At the first opportunity, encourage students to roam around and explore.
• For example, in my biology courses I want students to play with the models and specimens.
• Chat informally with students before the first class and get to what they're excited about and what they're afraid of.  
• The first thing I do, is break my students into small groups and ask them to generate a list of questions they have about my course.
• Then I give them the syllabus and let them explore that and try to find their answers.
• While this is going on, I'm strolling around and informally chatting with them.
  
• Consider meeting your students ahead of time.  
• That way, they're already comfortable before the first day.
• Try getting word out that you want students to drop and introduce themselves before the first class.
• Try hosting an "open house" in your classroom before classes start.
• Post some information about yourself online (your faculty webpage, for example).
  
• Teach them to "Seat!" properly
• You might consider assigned seats, at least to start out.
• If seating is open, then be sure to let them know which behaviors are acceptable and which behaviors are not
• What's your policy on asking/discussing during class?
• Are mobile devices allowed?
• What about bathroom breaks?
• Snacking OK?
• Interrupting or distracting other learners?
  
• Teach them about exiting safely.
• Be courteous and don't loiter in the doorway as classes change.
• Where to go in a fire, tornado, or other emergency?

Getting off to a good start is critical to success throughout the course!

The learning environment

Pedestals placed "just so" or this pyramid will fall apart.

Next time you are at a circus, watch what's going on during intermission.  Or on the ground during an aerial act high above your head.  What you'll see is a flurry of activity as the artists coming up next are checking and testing their equipment. 

Before the lion or tiger act, you'll not only see the big net or cage go up . . . you'll see the lion tamer walking through the whole set up.  He or she will be adjusting the position of a stool here and there.  Looking around for stray items.  Making sure the door locks securely.

If you know cats, you know that anything out of place can be a major distraction.  Which can spell major disaster for both the animals and the trainers.  Besides that, who wants to watch an act that isn't working?  No fun for anybody, then.

Likewise, teachers need to check out the learning environment every day.

Like lions and tigers, students entering their classroom have an expectation that everything will be in its place and working properly.  When it's not, that can be distracting.  That probably won't trigger a deadly fight, as it might in a lion act, but it will definitely disrupt the learning process.  Possibly in a dramatic way.

Here's an example.  I was teaching a class in a large medical school lecture hall.  Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning I went to the room a half hour early to check out "the arena."  Mine was the first class of the day, so it was easy.  But I also try to do that even when my class comes later in the day.  I'd check the sound system, walk around making sure everything was reasonably clean and in good order.  One day, I walked in to the room to find that the entire ceiling had fallen down!  It was a "drop ceiling" and remodeling of the room above had loosened the ceiling anchors.

I was able to quickly find another lecture to which I could move my class.  I put up signs telling students where to go.  I got my department administrator to make arrangement for a long-term room reassignment.  We didn't miss a beat.  The learning process was not interrupted in the dramatic way it would had I not happened to check out the room that morning.

How many times have we had classroom technology not work correctly just at that "light bulb moment" when we needed it work and bring home a complex concept for our students?  How many times have we found that our students were distracted all day by a flickering light tube? 

Had we checked out these things ahead of time, we wouldn't have those problems.  Or at least we'd avoid spending "learning time" trying to secure help to get things fixed.  Things would have gone a lot more smoothly in terms of teaching and learning.

So just as I did when I was a lion tamer, I take an extra few moments every day to check out my spaces to do what I can to make sure that avoidable problems are taken care of before they harm my students' ability to benefit from the learning environment.

Sometimes, it's the little things

Distractions

I'll never forget the time that a tiger's claw caught the tendons in my wrist and pulled me to the ground.

I was training a tiger to find his seat and stay there . . . one of the first behaviors any circus cat learns.  I asked him to get on his seat (which he was doing well) and then walking him around the outer edge of the practice arena before asking him to again go to his seat.  Each time he did as he was asked, he got a bit of fresh meat.

The meat was held in a bucket outside the arena by my assistant.  When I needed more treats, she would pass a handful of meat tidbits through the mesh of the arena.  Then she'd wipe the juice from the meat on a towel and stand ready to assist me in other ways. However, that afternoon she carelessly put the towel on the side of the arena, hanging through the mesh, rather than safely outside the arena.

As the I walked the tiger around the arena's edge once more, he sniffed the meat on the towel and lunged for it.  Before we knew it, the towel was now in the tiger's mouth.  It seems that the animal knew he shouldn't swallow the towel. But he wasn't about to give it back to me, either.  I know; I asked him several times to give it back to me.

I couldn't just leave him there until he got tired of it.  First, he'd probably outlast me on that score.  Second, the arena was not secure enough to leave him unattended.  He needed to be leashed and walked back to his den--impossible without him giving up the towel.

So I tried to throw him a treat, then grab the towel as he jumped at the treat.  Not surprisingly, he was a lot faster than me and batted my arm away as I grabbed for the towel.  Ooops.  His claws were out (a reflex when defending his "kill") and one of claws sank into my wrist and hooked around a tendon.  Oops.  If it were a case of him batting me away for any other reason, his claws would not have been out.  But this time, he accidentally got me.

I knew that if I pulled away, I'd have some serious damage.  So I went with his paw as he pulled it back toward him and tried to retract his claws.  Thankfully, the claw retracted and I was left with just a puncture . . . and a perfectly intact tendon.  Whew.  I got up and away safely.  Sure, there was a bit of bleeding and some days of serious infection prevention as the wound healed.  All I have to show for it now is a small scar  . . . and a story.

One of the lessons of that story is that sometimes, it's just a small, seemingly inconsequential, thing that gets in the way of the day's lesson.

For me and my assistant, that towel was a small thing that was not distracting in the least . . . to us.  For my tiger, that towel was the most distracting thing in the universe.  He could not help but go for that unprotected prize.  For all he knew, we were trying to get him to jump for it!

From that day forward, I always inspected every inch of the practice arena before, during, and after every session.  Looking for the little things that could distract a cat and cause a potentially life-threatening problem.

There are so many distractions that can exist in a classroom.  They may not be distracting to us.  At all.  But for a variety of reasons that we cannot possibly fathom, there may be something small in the classroom that one or more students simply cannot ignore.  Telling them to may not work.

For example, I have a college class with three students who sit near the back of the room and chat quietly during class.  I usually cannot hear them.  When I do, I automatically tune them out and focus on the day's lesson.  However, some (not all) of my students simply cannot focus while the quiet chatter is going on.  And if they cannot focus, they cannot learn.

So, like a lion tamer, we teachers need to carefully manage the distractions in our learning environments.  For example, I need to pay more attention to the back-of-the-room chatter and do what I can to stop it.  We need to consider that even though many students should be able to redirect their focus, sometimes they struggle . . . or they simply follow their instincts before they realize they've drifted away.

What if there are little (or big) distractions you cannot manage?  I'll tackle that one in an upcoming post!