Teaching on camera is emotionally exhausting. While there's some
You worry about your students who don't turn their cameras on. There are moments where you feel like you're speaking into the void. And other very human moments, where you just missing seeing another human face.
Recently, a colleague shared this article called "Cameras Be Damned" with me. While I completely agree with the sentiments of protecting our students privacy and creating flexible modes of engagement for learning, I think there is something that falls short for me. I will continue to iterate that the current educational response to COVID-19 is not (and will not ever be) the pedagogical practice of "online education." Our current reliance on virtual classrooms is a response to a global pandemic, and while there is a great deal to be learned from our colleagues in instructional design and experts in online education, there is something different about a class intended to be online from the beginning and class that has been transitioned to an online environment due to a crisis.
Yes, our students needs are important, but they are not the only priority. They can't be. In a moment, where the stakes are actually life and death, there is something to be said about the cliche of putting on your own oxygen mask before you own.
Acknowledge that turning on a camera is vulnerable. For you as the teacher and for them as the students.
Create a space where students feel lie
Invite students to make that space with you.
Be honest about your needs as an instructor.
Develop a model of shared responsibility.
It is an act of care to
Consent is required. Never force a student to turn their cameras on.
Do not manipulate students into turning their cameras through pressure on participation grades.
Respect their privacy.
Why is that you want to see your students faces? What do you need from that interaction to teach?
Trust me, if there was