Friday, June 28, 2013

Yo Ghana! Applies for 501(c)3 Status

Thanks to our good friends at Thompson and Bogran, Yo Ghana! will be formally applying for 501(c)3 status in a few days.  This status would allow donors to deduct their donations on their taxes, as would of course give us more legitimacy.

Most everyone who has gone through the process has told me not to try.  The application is long and complicated, the application fee is high, and the wait period can be very long.  I was very fortunate to have two experienced corporate attorneys guiding me at every step.  Even so, it has been, as they say, "a hassle."  And it may remain a hassle--for many months or even years to come.

In fact the entire process of bringing schools in Ghana and the Pacific Northwest together has been a hassle, a long series of e-mails unanswered, wire transfers that haven't gone through, partnerships that haven't panned out, hours of standing by a table trying to sell the program to teachers who are already too busy.

Of course there are also many success stories.  But all of them have entailed difficulties and frustrations.  In this respect running a little non-profit resembles being a parent, spouse, or friend--or writing a book, learning a new language, or mastering a new skill.


Like another Americans, I don't like hassles.  I would like nothing but peak experiences: students excited about their cross-cultural friendships, projects buzzing along on schedule, letters flowing back and forth without a hitch, students from struggling families getting access to better educations.  All of this happens.  But only after a lot of hassles.

Friday, June 21, 2013

San Fernando Mission and the Invisible Indians

I have a relationship with historic sites and museums that resembles how my friend, Diane, approaches blind dates: I ought to know better.

But after several days of driving to and around L.A., catering to the desires of sixteen-year-old males (which, to be fair, sometimes intersect with my own), I dropped them at Six Flags and headed off for the San Fernando Mission.

I liked the church.  It was old and ornate and full of character.  I stood there and imagined all the hopes and sorrows it had soaked up over the past two centuries.

Having taught western and Native American history several times, I knew that the California missions were the site of great piety and exploitation and suffering.  I didn't expect the site to resolve those paradoxes, but I hoped to explore and experience them more deeply.

But I learned very little about the broader context of the mission or the thousands of Indians who had lived there, the texture of their lives and faith.  I got a pretty good idea of how the elite of the mission lived.  The gift shop had several picture books on the missions but no scholarly ones.  There were lots of memorials to European saints and the usual flotsam of generic tourist items.  On the grounds itself, tucked away in the corner of a large garden. there was a small memorial for the thousands of Indians who had been buried at the mission.  This was an incidental theme, however, as the garden was dedicated to the memory and the grave of Bob Hope.

Unlike most academics--and liberals--I have a lot of respect for the Roman Catholic Church.  But what a waste and what a shame: "Jesus wept."

Friday, June 14, 2013

Surviving my First Fully Online Course

After teaching some fully online courses since 2000, I took my first one recently, an intensive, two-week course on how to evaluate online courses.  And it wasn't pretty.

The course had recently been revised, and I found the site confusing.  I was really busy when the course started, so I put off the first quiz for a couple of days, then didn't read the instructions carefully so flunked it.  That got my attention, and I buckled down and did very well in the rest of the course, but it took much more time than it was supposed to.  The instructor didn't send feedback as promptly as I would have liked, but it was very detailed and precise.  She reassured me that I could do the work, and she didn't make the work easier.

I learned a great deal in the course about how to evaluate and improve online courses--my own and those of others.  Just as important, I was impressed by how frustrating it is to feel confused in an online course.  I was reminded that fear can be a great motivator; it has been many, many years since I have felt fear as a student--though I still have nightmares about being in college and forgetting that I have a final.

So I plan on subjecting myself to more experiences like this.  Professors are seldom challenged.  Once we get our Ph.D. and our job, we typically "settle in" and get comfortable with being in control and treated with a great deal of deference.  It felt good to be pushed to master a new set of materials, to overcome some adversity.  And I am now much more motivated to make sure that my courses are clear and logical.

Friday, June 7, 2013

Taking My First Online Course--and Suffering

My empathy level for my students--especially those taking fully online courses--has gone up and up and up over the past nine days.

I've learned how awful it feels when: 1) You flunk a quiz because the instructions were not very clear--or maybe I didn't read them closely?  2)  You are promised feedback within a certain time--and it doesn't come.  3) The amount of time you must spend on the class is about twice as long as you were told it would be.  4) The class is listed as asynchronous--meaning that you can complete it at your convenience within a certain time frame--but if you don't haul ass on the first day, you'll be struggling to keep up the rest of the term.  5)  You put hours and hours into an assignment, read the directions over several times, take great pains to get your submission just right, then find out that you didn't meet the requirements, and you're still not sure what you did wrong.  6)  You flunk an assignment because you did not use the exact terminology or particular words that the instructor demands.

I only hope that some of the many students who have felt the same way about my fully online courses somehow sense my pain and suffering and get some small measure of satisfaction from it.  Seems only right.