One big problem to communication via email is that neither the sender nor the recipient can see the facial expression of the other. From an email message alone, I cannot accurately gauge whether or not a student has fabricated Grandma's death. I don't have the person's eyes to study, posture or body language to translate. And online students sometimes have a hard time reading me as well. Sometimes they cannot determine, say, my level of enthusiasm [or lack thereof] for an assignment they have submitted. In a physical classroom, I might say, "This is not too bad." My friendly face communicates the math: "not," a negative, plus "bad," a second negative, equals a positive, or my general happiness with the work.
If, however, I write "This is not too bad" as part of an end comment on an assignment I am returning via email, insecure students will read the sentence this way: "This is not TOO bad"—or, "It's bad but I have seen worse"—when I did not intend to communicate that message. So in email, I now avoid phrases that I still use in the classroom where my physical presence helps students interpret my meaning. In email, I am straightforward and cold: "I liked the way you handled X, but you must revise Y before you submit the final draft" or "The content is just what I was looking for, but you will need to work on Z if you want to pass the department-graded exam at the end of the semester."
Straightforwardness, though, can get me in trouble in an email as well. When I meet classes in person, I can easily determine who has done the work and who hasn't. Physical evidence abounds: Does Student X have a textbook? Is it marked in a way that indicates that he read it? Did Student Y attend class the day we discussed the PowerPoint presentation? Did I see her ask her seatmate for notes to copy because she wasn't here? Did Student Z take notes the day we discussed the very important directions for the final draft, or was he surreptitiously trying to complete homework for another class?
Online students are equally transparent—the quality of their assignments indicates how much of the preparatory work they did before attempting the piece I will evaluate—but I do not call them on it as I would a classroom student. To Student Z above, I can say, "You could have earned a higher grade on this if you had put aside the math homework the day I went over the directions." But I cannot say to an online student, "You obviously did not view the PowerPoint I posted before attempting this essay," because the student will retort, "I did too!" While she feigns indignation and hurt that I would accuse her of such a thing, I can offer no physical evidence that she is lying.
So I have learned to phrase my suspicions like this: "I wish that you had paid better attention to the reading assignment [or PowerPoint presentation, or student samples, etc.] and tried harder to meet the expectations communicated there, for then you would have earned a higher grade." I know the student didn't do the reading assignment, but I don't accuse her of that lapse because I can't prove it. The student will often reply, "Gosh, I guess I didn't read X very carefully. Next time I will pay better attention." The student and I both know the translation: "Gosh, I didn't do the reading. Next time I will actually view the student samples you so thoughtfully provided." But we avoid unsubstantiated accusations and retorts zinging through cyberspace.
The I-know-you-didn't-do-the-required-preparation-but-I-will-only-accuse-you-of-not-doing-it-carefully rebuke works well with A and B students who are testing how little they can get away with in an online course. Next time, they will likely get their act together and do acceptable work. C, D, and F students, however, want to make appointments to see me. "I don't understand X," their email will begin, "so I was hoping you could better explain it to me in person." They had X explained at the minimum in assigned pages in the textbook, a PowerPoint presentation spelling out what I wanted, samples of A+ student work or a practice quiz with answers.
At the appointment, these students will have no interest in learning anything about X; they will instead whine that a work, health, family, financial, or relationship responsibility keeps them from doing a good job in my class—as though they alone in the world have to juggle so many challenges. They will hope that I will be sympathetic and reduce my expectations of them. C, D, and F students aren't that bright to begin with; they don't realize that their physical presence in my office—their eyes, their facial expressions, their posture—will give me way more information than the static words in an email, and that I will have less sympathy, be less inclined to give them a break, than I would if they had just admitted their laziness and promised to do the work for the next assignment.
I have finally figured out how to handle these folks as well. I always begin the return email with my office hours and location. Then I add something like this: "To better help you understand X, I will need to see how you prepared for the evaluative assignment. When you come to the meeting, bring both of your textbooks, all of the posted handouts I advised you to print and read with a highlighter, and all of the exercises I assigned. Put stars or question marks by anything that you don't understand."
Since employing this strategy, I have found that not one of them comes to the meeting. I, of course, know why. If they bought the textbooks [and that's a BIG if], they don't want to bother marking them up as though they did in fact prepare beforehand for the assignment or quiz they bombed. And if they were to read them in preparation for our in-person meeting, they would realize that the information wasn't difficult to understand. I don't teach rocket science! Once they start printing the handouts, just a glance would indicate that all of the problems I marked in their essays were addressed in readily available materials. And if they start the assigned exercises, they realize that only a moron could still mess up a quiz on the material after doing so much preparatory work.
To establish good communication in an online course, I now follow these simple rules:
- Avoid expressions that can be interpreted differently depending on what word is stressed
- Accuse the students of not preparing carefully enough, even when their work indicates that they didn't prepare at all
- Insist that the students bring all materials and preparatory assignments, marked in a way that shows what/where they didn't understand, to any in-person meeting
