It Was Never Just About the Essay
I’m going to try not to make this political, but I make no promises. I teach freshman composition, African American literature and journalism. In the comp classes we don’t have interesting content to read and write about that is mandated by our curriculum. It’s just teach them to write, organize, use appropriate conventions. Actually it says more overgeneralized statements like “Write for specific rhetorical contexts, including circumstance, purpose, topic, audience, and writer, as well as the writing’s ethical, political, and cultural implications.” There’s so much to unpack here. You’d be surprised by how different professors are in the interpretation of what this means in our classrooms.
I mean just the first part alone is meaningful. “Write for specific rhetorical contexts” means adjusting your writing based on the purpose, audience, and situation in which the writing will be used. It recognizes that writing is not one-size-fits-all. Effective writers make intentional choices depending on who they are writing to, why they are writing, and where the writing will appear. In our students’ minds, I alone am the audience. They don’t often see the significance of writing for a specific rhetorical context, so we have to teach them what that means. So I give them the theme of “Truth in the US Elections and the Current Administrations Policies.” Now we have content to read and write about. I tell them if you’re mad or happy about immigration policies in this country, then who needs to hear your arguments? What is your purpose in writing? What is the context or situation? We discuss where and how the writing can be used.
The last part of that one course objective, “as well as the writing’s ethical, political, and cultural implications,” means students must think about the impact and responsibility of their writing, not just the technical aspects like audience or purpose. It asks them to consider how their words affect others and how their writing fits into larger social systems. I tell them their writing can be a form of protest or support for ideas, which makes writing more meaningful. I want them to know how writing connects to power, policies, public issues, or viewpoints. So yeah, it’s political, but it’s the real world. Writing can influence how people think about social issues, government actions, or public debates. I tell students, yes, your writing can do that, and I’m going to teach you how. That’s what this class is all about.
But what about the “cultural implications” in this course objective? Why is that in there? I want students to know that writing relates to people’s identities, backgrounds, values, and lived experiences. We’re all different. We come from different places metaphorically. As a writer, they should be aware of cultural differences and respect diverse perspectives. We don’t get to see that very often in society today, so it can be a challenge teaching this. Students often just want to repeat what they are constantly hearing in the media (news and social) instead of researching and finding the truth.
So Freshman Composition is so much more than teaching students to write. It is about helping them understand how writing actually works in the real world. It is about teaching them to think critically, to recognize audience and purpose, and to make intentional choices instead of just filling space on a page. It is where they begin to see that their words carry weight, that writing can inform, challenge, question, and create change. It is also where many of them, often for the first time, realize that their own experiences, perspectives, and voices belong in academic spaces. Freshman Composition is not just a writing class. It is a class about awareness, confidence, and learning how to participate in conversations that matter.
Charlee Requested a Drop
Charlee emailed this morning to say she needed to withdraw. She explained that she’s dealing with personal circumstances that are weighing heavily on her, disrupting her mental well-being, and making it impossible to keep up with school the way she wants to. This wasn’t a student who was struggling academically. Charlee was earning an A, the highest grade in the class. She wasn’t giving up; she was overwhelmed.
I read her message and felt that familiar mix of sadness, concern, and resignation. Not because she failed, but because I know how hard she worked. And I know how hard we try, every single week, to keep our students afloat.
In this era of OPX checklists and intervention logs, faculty are expected to document every nudge, every email, every gentle “Hey, are you still with us?” As if the real problem is that we’re not paying close enough attention. As if we wouldn’t notice when a student goes quiet. As if we haven’t been doing this work long before the spreadsheets and required uploads arrived telling us to “prove” it.
The process has created a quiet, persistent message: We’re watching you. A big-brother-style accountability system that treats experienced, caring educators like we might forget to do the job we’ve been doing for decades. And the irony, of course, is that all those interventions we dutifully type up each week, reminders, encouragement, offers of help, phone calls, Canvas messages, they don’t magically change the realities our students are living through.
Students are balancing jobs, caretaking, financial stress, health crises, unstable housing, grief, trauma, and the everyday weight of being human in a world that keeps getting harder. And even when we show up fully, giving extensions, recording video feedback at midnight, revising modules, offering alternative assignments, cheering them on, sometimes the compassionate and responsible choice for them is still to drop the class.
That isn’t a failure. Not theirs, not ours.
But the documentation culture can make it feel like one. When a student withdraws, the unspoken question becomes, Did you intervene enough? As if retention happens because we clicked the right boxes, not because our students are human beings doing their best in difficult circumstances.
Charlee’s withdrawal reminded me of something important: our job is to teach, to support, to care, and to offer students every reasonable opportunity to succeed. It is not to save them from their lives, or from choices they need to make for their own well-being.
We can keep doing the interventions, because that’s part of the job now. But we don’t have to absorb the assumption behind them. We know the truth already. We do the work. We see our students. We show up, week after week, with patience and compassion. And sometimes, even then, students still step away, not because we failed, but because life is bigger than our classes.
Charlee withdrew today, even as the top student in the course. I hope she finds steadiness, rest, and a way forward. And I hope we, as faculty and administrators, keep reminding ourselves that the measure of our care is not in the OPX log, but in the way we treat the people who cross our paths, even when the outcome isn’t what we hoped for.
Riding the AI Wave: Teaching with NotebookLM and Grammarly Authorship
You’ve heard the saying, “If you can’t beat them, join them.” That’s pretty much where I’ve landed with AI. Students are already using it, sometimes clumsily, sometimes brilliantly, so rather than pretending we can outsmart the bots, I’ve started figuring out how to make them work for learning instead of against it. Two tools I’m using this semester are NotebookLM and Grammarly Authorship.
NotebookLM has become a surprisingly effective tool for essay revision. Students upload their drafts and my feedback, then use the AI to ask targeted questions about how to improve their writing. Because NotebookLM only works with the sources they upload, it doesn’t pull anything from the internet, it stays focused on their words, their structure, and their feedback.
I give students simple prompts to get started:
- What changes could strengthen my thesis or organization?
- How can I make my evidence clearer or more convincing?
- What patterns do I notice in my instructor’s feedback?
What happens next is the part I love most: instead of relying on vague advice like “add more detail” or “work on transitions,” students begin to engage in their own revision process. NotebookLM gives them an accessible way to talk through the “why” behind my comments and to see their writing from a more analytical perspective.
Grammarly Authorship, on the other hand, helps me confirm that students’ writing actually sounds like them. It builds an authorship profile that tracks writing style and habits across drafts, which can be useful when a submission suddenly feels suspiciously polished. I use it less as a gotcha tool and more as a way to encourage students to develop and maintain their unique voice.
If you want to experiment with NotebookLM, you’ll need to use a personal Gmail account for now. It’s not yet available through Maricopa’s system. Go to notebooklm.google.com, create a notebook, upload a few documents, and start asking questions. You’ll get a good sense of how students can use it to think more critically about revision once it becomes available in our district. And I created a video for my students explaining how it works and how to get started with their revision assignment.
AI isn’t going away anytime soon, but tools like these can help us use it with students rather than against them. In other words, if you can’t beat the AI wave, you might as well ride it. Get it? Ride the wave. ?
Resources:
I Failed ENG102 – Why DEI Matters
I tell my students all the time: You can accomplish your educational goals, even if you fail ENG102 the first time. If I can do it, so can you. And when things get tough, I’m always there to remind them: You can do it, but you have to want it.
When I took ENG102 at Phoenix College, my instructor was an old white dude. Yep, I said it. He was so out of touch with me, a young Black athlete, and many of the other students. Not once did he encourage me. He just stood at the front of the class, lecturing about literature written by, well, more old white dudes. I just couldn’t relate.
Being the precocious (read: smart-mouthed) student I was, I jokingly asked him one day if any Black people had written anything in the 1800s. His response? A dismissive suggestion that I check if the college offered an African American literature class—because apparently, the idea of including William Wells Brown, Frederick Douglass, or Frances E.W. Harper in his curriculum was out of the question.
Needless to say, that class didn’t end well for me. I ended up retaking ENG102 at Yavapai College, where the course focused on writing rather than literature. I was relieved. I swore I’d never take another literature class again. Ironically, I later majored in English Literature at Cal State Bakersfield. Ha! But that’s a story for another day.
The real takeaway here is this: Most students don’t expect to pursue the subject they struggled with the most. But my experience gives me a unique perspective on the frustration students feel when they’re forced to take a class that doesn’t seem relevant to them. I get it. I can relate.
That’s why I work hard to make the topics, readings, and visuals in my classes relevant to the students sitting in front of me (or behind a screen online). I want every student to feel welcome, to know they belong, and to see themselves reflected in the material we cover. I take my commitment to diversity, equity, and inclusion seriously, not because it’s trendy, not because it’s a buzzword, but because I know what it feels like when a class leaves you out.
This is why DEI matters in education. It’s not about politics. It’s not about checking a box. It’s about making sure every student, regardless of their background, sees a pathway to success. Faculty have a responsibility to create learning environments where students feel valued, supported, and represented. If we fail to do that, we fail our students. And that is something none of us can afford.
Winding Down After 35 Years
Thirty-five years ago, I stepped into my first classroom at Deer Valley HS with a mix of excitement and maybe a little bit of terror. It was a high school classroom after all. Teenagers are scary. I had my lesson plans meticulously typed (on actual paper, mind you), and I was raring to go. Today, as I begin the process of winding down my career, I find myself reflecting on the moments, big and small, that have made this journey unforgettable.
When I started teaching, the idea of an online class seemed about as futuristic as video calls, making calls with your watch, and flying cars. Remember the Jetsons!? Over the years, I’ve adapted to hybrid learning, digital platforms, and yes, even Instagram and Twitter posts for assignments. From overhead projectors and chalkboards to Smartboards and AI-powered tutoring, the landscape of education has transformed in ways I never could have predicted. I remember sitting on a desk with a bunch of other faculty at Westwood HS in 1993 discussing the World Wide Web and how it could possibly change education. Wow! We had no idea!
There have been moments of brilliance, moments of comedy, and moments of sheer chaos in those 35 years. And somewhere along the way, I became part-instructional designer, part-IT support, and part-time coach. Who knew that I’d one day be troubleshooting WiFi issues while also trying to explain the nuances of APA documentation. Even in a digital world, nothing replaces a well-timed pep talk, an encouraging email, or a spontaneous laugh shared over a technical glitch. “Just turn it off and restart that computer.” That used to fix it every time.
I’ve learned that students are more engaged when they feel heard, whether that’s through a discussion board post at 2 a.m. or an impromptu debate over whether a particular sentence is a run-on or not. Who argues with their English teacher about that? Navigating the world of Zoom, breakout rooms, and “Can everyone hear me?” moments has been a learning curve, but one that ultimately expanded the reach of education way before Covid.
I will miss the energy of a classroom deep in discussion, the playful groans when I announce a group project, and the pride in a student’s eyes when they realize they’ve written something truly great. I’ll miss the camaraderie of my colleagues and the sense of being part of something bigger than myself. Teaching has never been just a job; it’s been a calling, a community, and sometimes, let’s be honest, a bit of a circus. But I’m not done yet. I think I’ll stick around for at least one more year and give “just teaching” a try. No leading a committee, no painfully maneuvering through a software purchase, no trainings, no leading ecourses. Just teaching.
Video Discussions are a Superior Option for Asynchronous Online Learning
In online education, asynchronous discussions are a key component of engaging students and encouraging participation in a flexible learning environment. Traditionally, these discussions have been text-based, with students posting written responses to prompts and replying to their peers. However, the rise of video platforms and tools like Canvas Studio, the late Flip (rest in peace), Kaltura, Screencast-O-Matic, Padlet, and others has opened the door to a more dynamic and interactive approach: video discussions. Integrating video discussions into online courses offers several key advantages, enhancing both the educational experience and community-building efforts.
The biggest reason I made the switch to video discussion is because of AI. As AI tools become more accessible, some students often turn to AI to generate text responses for asynchronous discussions. While this can save time, it undermines the authenticity and value of the learning process. AI-generated responses can come across as disingenuous, lacking the personal touch and deeper understanding that real human input provides. The result is a discussion that feels robotic and unengaging. This can make the overall conversation dull and uninspiring, as students simply churn out polished but formulaic responses without truly engaging with the material or their peers. Video discussions, on the other hand, make it much harder for students to rely on AI tools, ensuring that the content is genuinely their own and that they are actively participating in the learning process.
One of the main criticisms of online learning is the lack of personal connection compared to face-to-face classes. Video discussions bridge this gap by allowing students to see and hear each other, creating a more humanized and engaging interaction. Facial expressions, tone of voice, and body language add layers of communication that are absent in text discussions, fostering deeper connections between students and instructors. Video discussions enable learners to feel like they’re part of a real community, rather than just a series of names on a screen. This can be especially important for students who may feel isolated in an online environment. Seeing their classmates speak directly to the camera creates a sense of immediacy and involvement, helping to build camaraderie and rapport in the virtual classroom.
This semester I made the switch from Flip to Padlet for my video discussions in my journalism courses. After 3 weeks I can see a real connection between the students in the class. I can see the authenticity of their videos and feel it encourages students to speak more naturally and conversationally compared to the often formal, stilted language used in written posts. This leads to more dynamic exchanges and often deeper, more thoughtful reflections. Video discussions also tend to capture attention more effectively. Students are likely to watch a brief video response from a peer rather than reading through lengthy text posts, thus encouraging more active participation in ongoing discussions. I know that I’ve moved from spot-reading posts to watching all of their videos. I wish I could show you some of the cool interactions that have already transpired so far in these video discussions. You’ll just have to take my word for it.
Editing YouTube Captions for Readability in Canvas Studio Using AI
This post is a follow up post to my last post: Canvas Studio’s Auto-Captioning Feature Does Not Work for Videos Added by a YouTube Link. This might make a bit more sense if you read and watch that video first. As I was saying in the previous video, many faculty use videos from YouTube in Canvas Studio, which doesn’t bring over the captions for those videos. And if you manage to get those captions into Studio, YouTube doesn’t always do a great job of presenting those captions. Just click CC on my YouTube video below to see how bad they are. It’s basically just words on the screen with no punctuation or formatting, which is really not acceptable.
This video demonstrates how to add accurate captions to videos using YouTube’s auto-generated captions and a chatbot to insert punctuation and improve readability in Canvas Studio videos.
Canvas Studio’s Auto-Captioning Feature Does Not Work for Videos Added by a YouTube Link
Canvas Studio is an interactive video platform integrated within the Canvas learning management system (LMS). It allows educators and students to create, upload, and share videos directly within Canvas courses. Canvas Studio offers auto-captioning for videos. When you upload a video to Canvas Studio, you can generate captions automatically. The auto-captioning feature uses speech recognition technology to create captions, which are then editable to ensure accuracy. This feature helps make video content more accessible to all students, including those who are deaf or hard of hearing.
However, Canvas Studio’s auto-captioning feature does not work for videos added by a YouTube link. The auto-captioning functionality is only available for videos that are directly uploaded to Canvas Studio. When you link to a YouTube video within Canvas Studio, you can still use YouTube’s own captioning tools if the video owner has enabled them. However, the direct auto-captioning and editing features of Canvas Studio won’t apply to these externally hosted videos. To utilize Canvas Studio’s auto-captioning, you would need to download the video from YouTube (if allowed), upload it directly to Canvas Studio, and then use the auto-captioning feature. Alternatively, you can rely on YouTube’s captioning options or manually add captions within Canvas Studio after uploading.
All of those options for getting captions on YouTube videos added to Studio are not great. You can’t download videos from YouTube legally, and if it’s not your video, you can’t download or access the captioning file. Finally, who has time to manually add captions to a video? Not me.
There are several ways to get the transcript from a YouTube video. Most will just give a text file with no formatting and no timestamp, so you end up manually editing and wasting just as much time as if you created the file yourself. Here’s a process I use:
Monitor Online Attendance in Canvas
You’ve created a great online class. Your students have started the semester eagerly digging in to your course content and submitting assignments. Everything is going great, but is it really? Are you students really engage? Are they all even logging in to Canvas? With online instruction it can be challenging to gauge how engaged students are in your online course on a daily basis, especially if you only require assignments every few weeks. What are students doing in between those big assignments? Are they reading? Are they watching your videos? Are they discussion a course topic? Do they have smaller assessments to help keep them engaged weekly in your course? All of these additions would make a good online course and make it easy for you see how your students are doing on a weekly basis.
If you design an online course that requires some of these elements, you will be able to check online attendance in Canvas using the New Analytics tool. What exactly does online attendance track? It tracks posts to an announcement or discussion, assignment submissions, conferences using Big Blue Button, page creation, and quiz submissions. Previously the feature only tracked student log ins, but that didn’t really tell us anything. Students log in all the time, look at their failing grade, get discourage and leave again. That would previous count as attendance. But now they’ve turn on the criteria listed above, so it gives us a better picture of who’s doing what in the course.
Here’s a quick video showing you how to set up New Analytics in your Canvas courses and view online attendance.
An added note about assignments: Does the criteria Assignments: Student submits an assignment include assignments that use ‘external tool submission type’?
It depends. If the external tool is using the Canvas API endpoint for submission, it will count toward that criteria. For many tools that use assignment-level integration, this will be the case.
However, if you are using a third-party tool that only passes average grades back to Canvas, those assignment submissions will likely not be included in the Online Attendance Criteria.
RSI in the Classroom Video Series
The ecourses committee this year is focused on getting GCC online faculty on board with Regular and Substantive Interaction (RSI). The U.S. Department of Education requires that all online courses for which students receive federal financial aid involve “regular and substantive interaction between students and instructors.”
What that means is online courses must demonstrate that:
Instructors engage in at least two forms of substantive interaction during each course. That interaction should be regular, scheduled, predictable, and focused on the course subject. In other words, students should know when they can expect to engage with their instructor, and those opportunities for engagement should happen throughout the entire academic term.
We created a video series to show faculty what that might look like in an online course. These are just examples and not necessarily what every faculty should or can do. It’s up to each faculty member to decide which two forms of substantive interaction work best for their course. What works for me, may not be feasible for you.
Below are the first 3 episodes of the video series. Each week we will be adding to the series and you can check for new episodes here: https://app.screencast.com/collections/g000300JyGwQr0SvdKwgAOmRHaG3s
RSI in the Classroom, Ep. 1 Office Hours
Office hours can be considered a form of regular and substantive interaction in online courses, but it depends on how they are conducted and how they contribute to the overall learning experience. Learn more here: https://app.screencast.com/LybDFzcfI5xyK
RSI in the Classroom, Ep. 2 Facilitating Discussion
To facilitate a group discussion regarding the content of a course or competency as regular and substantive interaction, you can start by setting clear expectations for participation and encouraging all members to contribute. You can also use open-ended questions to spark conversation and encourage critical thinking. Additionally, it may be helpful to establish ground rules for respectful communication and active listening. Here are a few examples to show you what that might look like: https://app.screencast.com/1Ztpkj5HUlizJ
RSI in the Classroom, Ep. 3 Assessment & Providing Feedback
Regular and substantive interaction refers to the requirement for online instructors to have ongoing and meaningful engagement with their students. Assessing or providing feedback on a student’s coursework is one way to meet this requirement, as it demonstrates a level of involvement in the student’s learning process. This interaction is a fundamental part of the teaching and learning process and plays a crucial role in the student’s academic development. See some examples here: https://app.screencast.com/gk3W0U9ERi5R8
