Category: Published articles

  • Learning-based complex work: how to reframe learning and development

    Learning-based complex work: how to reframe learning and development

    The following is excerpted from Watkins, K.E. and Marsick, V.J., 2023. Chapter 4. Learning informally at work: Reframing learning and development. In Rethinking Workplace Learning and Development. Edward Elgar Publishing.

    This chapter’s final example illustrates the way in which organically arising IIL (informal and incidental learning) is paired with opportunities to build knowledge through a combination of structured education and informal learning by peers working in frequently complex circumstances.

    Reda Sadki, president of The Geneva Learning Foundation (TGLF), rethought learning and development (L&D) for immunization workers in many roles in low- and middle-income countries (LMICs).

    Adapting to technology available to participants from the countries that joined this effort, Sadki designed a mix of experiences that broke out of the limits of “training” as it was often designed by conventional learning and development practitioners.

    He addressed, the inability to scale up to reach large audiences; difficulty to transfer what is learned; inability to accommodate different learners’ starting places; the need to teach learners to solve complex problems; and the inability to develop sufficient expertise in a timely way. (Marsick et al., 2021, p. 15)

    This led his organization, to invite front-line staff from all levels of immunization systems in low- and middle-income countries (LMICs) to create and share new learning in response to the social and behavioral challenges they faced.

    Sadki designed learning and development for “in-depth engagement on priority topics,” insights into “the raw, unfiltered perspectives of frontline staff,” and peer dialogue that “gives a voice to front-line workers” (The Geneva Learning Foundation, 2022).

    Reda started with an e-learning course, which he supplemented by interactive, community building, and knowledge creation features offered by Scholar, a learning platform developed by Bill Cope and Mary Kalantzis (Marsick et al., 2021, pp. 185-186).

    Scholar’s learning analytics enabled him to tailor learning to learner preferences and to continually check outcomes and adjust next steps.

    See Figure 4.3, which lays out the full learning cycle, a combination of interventions that Reda assembled over time to support peer learning-based work—“work that privileges learning in order to build individual and organizational capacity to better address emergent challenges or opportunities” (Marsick et al., 2021, p.177).

    Figure 4.3 The TGLF full learning cycle

    In his initiative, over a period of 12-18 months, participants develop and implement projects related to local immunization initiatives.

    To date, participants have come from 120 countries.

    In this vignette, Reda Sadki reflects on how this new model for learning and development evolved over time, and how L&D is transformed in a connected, networked learning environment.

    My reframe of learning and development started when I wrote to Bill Cope and Mary Kalantzis, respectively professor and dean of the University of Illinois College of Education, after I was appointed Senior Officer for Learning Systems at the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies (IFRC). I shared my strategy for the organization of facilitation, learning, and sharing of knowledge. I thought my strategy was brilliant. (At the time, I was already thinking that this was about more than learning and development…)

    They replied that these were interesting ideas, but I was missing the point because this is not learning. What I shared focused on publishing knowledge in different ways, but not on creation of knowledge as key to the learning process.

    That was a shock to me.

    So, the first realization about the limits of current thinking about learning and development came from Bill and Mary challenging me by saying: “What are people actually getting to do? You know, that’s where the learning is likely to happen.”

    I could see they had a point, but I didn’t know what it meant.

    I reflected on recent work I had done for the IFRC, where I was responsible for a pipeline of 80 or so e-learning modules.

    These information transmission modules were extremely limited, had very little impact.

    But there is a paradox, which is that people across the Red Cross who we were trying to reach were really excited and enthusiastic about them.

    I had not designed these modules.

    It was 500 screens of information with quizzes at the end.

    It violated every principle of learning design.

    And yet people loved it and were really proud to have completed it.

    The second realization was that what made people excited using the most boring format and medium was that this was the first time in their life that they were connecting in a digital space with something that spoke to their IFRC experience.

    So, the driver was learning.

    People come to the Red Cross and Red Crescent because they want to learn first aid skills, to prepare for a disaster, or to recover from one.

    Previously, that was an entirely brick-and-mortar experience.

    You have Red Cross branches pretty much everywhere in the world.

    It’s a very powerful social peer learning experience.

    The trainer teaching you is likely to be someone like you from your community.

    You meet people with like-minded values.

    And so, however inadequate, the digital parallel to that existed, and it helped people connect with their Red Cross culture, but in a digital space.

    With that insight, the learning platform became the fastest-growing digital system in the entire Red Cross Red Crescent Movement.

    The third insight was reading what George Siemens was writing in 2006.

    That was the connection of learning and development to complexity and networks.

    I read Marsick and Watkins in the ’80s and ’90s. Informal and incidental learning mattered then. Its significance would explode with the digital transformation.

    In my mind , that is what Siemens tapped into in the 2000s, through the lenses of digital network, complexity, and systems theory.

    The Internet leads to a different kind of thinking and doing.

    His theory of learning, connectivism, grew out of that difference.

    January of 2011, Ivy League universities began to publish massive open online courses (MOOCs), three years after George Siemens and his Canadian colleagues had coined the term while implementing connectivism.

    Stanford professors had 150,000 people in their artificial intelligence MOOC, alongside 400 people who took the same course on the Stanford campus.

    I began experimenting with MOOCs at that time, turning a lecture series into a networked learning experience led by peers.

    Learning at scale is an important part of problem-solving complex challenges.

    It is also important for peer learning and innovation: the greater the scale, the greater the diversity of inputs that we can use to support each other’s learning.

    Nine years later, at the Geneva Learning Foundation, we had digital scaffolding or learning infrastructure already in place.

    That helped us to rapidly support learning and action by health workers facing the consequences of the COVID-19 pandemic.

    I had been working, since 2016, with the World Health Organization, to help country-based immunization staff translate global guidelines, norms, and standards into practice.

    The COVID-19 Scholar Peer Hub became a digital network hosted by The Geneva Learning Foundation (TGLF) and developed with over 600 health worker alumni from all over the world.

    We began to understand not only learning at scale, but also design at scale.

    The Peer Hub launched in July 2020 and connected over 6,000 health professionals from 86 countries to contribute to strengthening skills and supporting implementation of country COVID-19 plans of action for vaccination, and to recover from the damage wrought by the pandemic.

    Our network, platform, and community tripled in size, in less than six months.

    Using social network analysis (SNA), Sasha Poquet explored the value of such a learning environment, one that builds a community of learning professionals, and that has ongoing activities to maintain the community both short- and long term, where you educate through various initiatives rather than create individual communities for each independent offering.

    It’s a holistic system of systems, in which everything is connected to everything, and every component is like a fractal embedded in the other components.

    This is not an abstract concept. We have found ways to actually implement this, in practical ways, with startling outcomes.

    That’s where we have moved in rethinking learning and development.

    You help people learn by connecting to each other, and by understanding the informal, incidental nature of learning.

    Figure 4.1 Marsick and Watkins' informal and incidental learning model

    A colleague commented that in today’s world, you’re better of talking about digital networks than you are about communities of practice.

    Yet these are two competing frameworks that collide, contradict, and are superimposed on top of each other.

    Both are helpful at specific times.

    In general, you can recognize the tensions and say: “Well, let’s put each one in front of the problem. Let’s see what we gain by applying each. Let’s reconcile in situ what the contradictory things are that we learn through these different lenses and then make decisions and figure out what the design elements look like.”

    What does it give to hold these notions of community and network in creative tension with one another?

    It depends on the context.

    It’s kind of like a fruit salad where you mix all these fruits together and the juice you get at the bottom of the bowl tends to be really delicious. That’s the best case.

    The flip side can be confusion.

    Some categories of learners just feel completely overwhelmed by being presented with multiple ways of doing something, having to make their own decisions in ways they’re simply not used to, being given too many choices or being put in contexts that are too ambiguous for there to be an easy resolution.

    But if you think about the skills we need in a digital age—for navigating the unknown, accepting uncertainty, making decisions, that ability to look around the corner—we try to convey the message to people who are uncomfortable that if they don’t figure out how to overcome their discomfort, they’re probably going to struggle and not be ready to function in the age in which we live.

    Evolution of a new model for learning and development

    Looking back to early 2020, Reda described important insights from an early pre-course symposium offering lived experiences shared by course applicants combined with video archives drawn from prior conferences sponsored by the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation.

    Reda packaged selected recorded talks in a daily sequence, and interspersed it with networking discussions and sharing of experiences of immunization training by field-based practitioners.

    For many, it was the first time they could go online and discover the experience of a peer, who could be from anywhere in the world.

    It was a process of discovery – realizing you can literally and figuratively connect across distance with people who are like yourself.

    We were able to create a conference-like experience, a metaphor that’s familiar to many—the combination of presentation and conversation and shared experience – by basically Scotch-taping together some older videos and editing a few stories from the real world.

    Now, it was part of an overall process over several years that got us to that point—where we had formed a community, a digital community that was mature enough, that was sophisticated enough, to overcome the barriers they were facing and participate.

    But still, it showed it could be done.

    We began to try out our new ideas and practices.

    In the first Teach to Reach Conference in January 2021, we designed with an organizing committee composed of over 500 alumni, we set up opportunities for people to pair of and talk to one another about their field experiences with vaccination.

    Peer learning mattered more than ever, because participants were immunization staff getting ready to introduce new COVID-19 vaccines in developing countries.

    There were no established norms and standards for how to do this.

    The conference offered some 56 workshops and other formal sessions, plenaries, and interviews.

    However, we discovered that the most meaningful learning was through some 14,000 networking meetings, where you pressed a button and you were randomly matched with someone else at the conference.

    That gave birth to a quarterly event dedicated entirely to such networking, which has continued to grow and thrive since.

    People now join group sessions where you listen to peers sharing their insights and experiences of vaccine hesitancy or other topics, and then you go off and network in one-to-one, private meetings and share your own experience, nourished by what happened in that group session; and also continue your learning in that very intimate way that you get through individual conversation that you don’t get in the anonymization of the Zoom rectangles.

    Dialogue is great, but we are most interested in action that leads to results.

    In every formal course, learners design a project around a real problem that they face, and use multiple learning resources to support learning in the context of that project.

    An evaluation showed that people were already implementing projects and doing things with what they had learned.

    How could we scaffold not just learning but actual project implementation?

    In order to catalyze action, we added a number of components in a sequence, a deliberate pedagogical pattern designed on the basis of evidence from learning science combined with empirical evidence from our practice.

    First, the Ideas Engine, where people share ideas and practices, and give and receive feedback on them.

    That’s followed by situation analysis really getting to the root cause of the problem they’re facing. We just ask learners to ask “why” fives times. Half of learners found a root cause different from the one they had initially diagnosed.

    And third, then, is action planning to clarify: What’s your goal? What are three corrective actions you’re going to take? How will you know that you have achieved your goal?

    These are classic, conventional action planning questions.

    The difference is the networked, peer learning model. It’s described by some learners as a “superpower”. Defying distance and many other boundaries, each person can tap into collective intelligence to accelerate their progress.

    It has taken years to bring together the right components, in the right sequence, to encourage reflective practice, develop analytical competencies, higher-order learning… but in ways that link every step of thinking to doing, and where the end game is about improved health outcomes, not just learning outcomes.

    That led us ultimately to the Impact Accelerator—that doesn’t have an end point.

    It starts with four weeks of goal setting, focused on continuous quality improvement.

    People initially declare very ambitious goals like, “By the end of the month I will have improved immunization coverage.” This is too broad to be useful, and seldom can be achieved within a month.

    We help them set specific goals. For example: “By the end of the month, I will have presented the project to my boss and secured some funding”— and even that may be quite ambitious.

    We help people figure out for themselves what they can actually do within the constraints they have.

    Unlike “Grand Challenges” or other innovation tournaments, you don’t have a competitive element, you don’t have a financial incentive, and it still works.

    The heart and soul of it is intrinsic motivation.

    After these steps there’s ongoing longitudinal reporting.

    Peer learning provides a new kind of accountability, as colleagues challenge each other to do better – and also to present credible results.

    Basically, we’ll call you back and ask, what happened to that project you were doing? Did you finish it? Did you get stuck? if so, why? What evidence do you have that it’s made a difference? You share that with us and if you have good news to share, we’ll probably invite you to an inspirational event for the next cycle.

    Challenges in inventing a new learning model

    If you look at this from the point of view of the learner, the first point of contact is social.

    It’s somebody they know who’s going to share with them on WhatsApp the invitation to join the program.

    Second are steps that test motivation and commitment because they could be seen as barriers to entry, for example, a long questionnaire for the current full learning cycle.

    To join the cycle, 6,185 people in the first two weeks took the time to answer 95 questions, generating over half a million data points and insights.

    About 40% of people who start the questionnaire finish it, and then start receiving instructions in a flow of emails, to prepare for the next steps.

    We could have reduced the number of questions, lowering the barrier to entry.

    But then entry would be far less meaningful.

    Learning needs to mean something.

    Universities substitute meaning through assessment, credentialing, and accreditation.

    We start with didactic steps, combined with some inspirational messages, e.g., asking them to reflect on why they are committed to the program, or how they are going to organize their time.

    We don’t know what the program design will look like until we’ve collected the applications and analyzed what people share about their biggest challenges because it’s all challenge-based.

    For example, we may think there is a problem due to vaccine hesitancy. We may be right: vaccine hesitancy is frequently given as a significant challenge. But there may be some things that surprise us.

    And so, we adapt every part of the design, and we keep doing that every day throughout the program, so there’s no disconnect between the design and the implementation.

    The design is the content.

    The first thing may be an inspirational event to connect with their intrinsic motivation, which we then tap into throughout the cycle.

    In June 2022, for example, we had an event for the network that completed the first part of the full learning cycle.

    We challenged people to share photos, showing them in the field, doing their daily work during World Immunization Week.

    We received over 1,000 photos in about two weeks.

    We organized a community event. It was a slide show: showing photos with music, reading the names of those who had contributed, inviting them to comment each other’s photos.

    A big chunk of what we do addresses the affective domain of learning that is critical to complex problem-solving and usually incredibly hard to get to.

    And what we saw were people in the room having those moments of coming to consciousness, realizing their problems are shared, and feeling stronger because of it.

    It was online, but you could feel the emotion. Something very powerful that we do not quite know how to describe, measure, or evaluate.

    People love peer learning in principle but still are wary.

    They might wonder how they can trust what their peer says: What’s the proof I can rely on them? What happens if they let me down? How do I feel if I don’t own up to the expectations? What if I’m peer-reviewing the work of somebody who’s far more experienced than I am, or conversely, if I read somebody’s work and judge they didn’t have the time or make the effort to do something good?

    We use didactic constraints to scaffold spaces of possibility: If your project is due by Friday, we announce that there will be no extension. By contrast, the choice of project is yours.

    We’re not going to tell you what your challenge is in your remote village, so you define it. We will challenge you to put yourself to the test, to demonstrate that this is actually your toughest challenge.

    Or to demonstrate that what you think is the cause is the actual root cause.

    And then we’ll have a support system that has about 20 different ways in which people can not only receive support, but also give it to others.

    For the technical support sessions, for example, we’ll say there are two reasons for joining. Either you have a technical issue you want to solve; or you’re doing so well, you have a little bit of time to give to help your colleagues. 

    This is just one example of how we encourage connections between peers.

    It took us years to find the right way to formulate the dialectic between those who are doing well, and those who are not. Are they really peers?

    Over time, we gained confidence in peer learning after we adopted it.

    We had a particularly challenging course that led to a breakthrough.

    We had prior experiences with learners who wanted an expert to tell them if their assignment was good or not.

    Getting people to trust peer learning forced us to think through how we articulate the value of peer learning.

    How do we help people understand that the limitations are there, but that they do not limit the learning?

    An assumption in global health is that, in order to teach, you need technical expertise.

    So if you are a technical expert, it is assumed that you can teach what you know.

    We consider subject matter expertise, but if you are an expert and come to our event, you’re actually asked to listen, as a guide on the side rather than a sage on the stage.

    You do not get to make a presentation, at least not until learners have experienced the power of peer leraning.

    You listen to what people are sharing about their experiences.

    Then, you have a really important role, that is to respond to what you’ve heard and demonstrate that your expertise is relevant and helpful to people who are facing these challenges.

    That has sometimes led to opposition when experts realize to what extent we flipped the prevailing model around.

    Some people really embrace it.

    Others get really scared.

    One of the most recent shifts we have made is that we stopped talking about courses.

    Courses are a very useful metaphor, but we are now talking about a movement for immunization.

    In the past, we observed that people who dropped out felt shame and stopped participating.

    Even if you are not actively participating, you’re still a member of the immunization movement.

    People have participated as health professionals, as government workers, as members of civil society, in various kinds of movements since decolonization.

    So the “movement” metaphor has a different resonance than that of “courses”.

    We used to call the Monday weekly meeting a discussion group.

    We’re now calling it a weekly assembly.

    It is a term that speaks to the religiosity of many learners, as well as to those with social commitments in their local communities.

    About ten years ago, I began to think of my goal for these discussion groups like the musician, the artist that you most appreciate, who really moves your soul, moves you, your every fiber and your body and your soul and your mind.

    I remember in 1989 I went to a Pink Floyd concert.

    When we left the concert, we were drenched in sweat.

    I was exhausted and just had an exhilarating experience.

    That’s what I would like people who participate in our events to feel.

    I believe that’s key to fostering the dynamics that will lead to effective teaching and learning and change as an outcome.

    We’re still light years away from that.

    A global health researcher told me that when she joins our events, she feels like she is in church in her home country of Nigeria.

    So, light years away, but making some progress.

    Reference

    Watkins, K.E. and Marsick, V.J., 2023. Chapter 4. Learning informally at work: Reframing learning and development. In Rethinking Workplace Learning and Development. Edward Elgar Publishing. https://www.e-elgar.com/shop/gbp/rethinking-workplace-learning-and-development-9781802203769.html

  • Vanishing point

    Vanishing point

    Two parallel lines look like they eventually converge at the horizon. Technology’s chase for digital convergence, say between television and the Internet, raises interesting questions of its own, starting with what happens at the ‘vanishing point’ – and how to get there. How about publishing and learning? Semantico has a blog post based on John Helmer’s lively chat with Toby Green, OECD’s head of publishing, and myself.

    Yes, publishing has already been transformed by the amazing economy of effort of technology. Now it is struggling to find meaning in the throes of the changing nature of knowledge (as it’s locked in, so to speak, by its container view of knowledge). In the past, an ‘educational’ publisher was a specific breed and brand. In the hyper-connected present, where knowledge is a process (not a product), publishers who have already transformed themselves at least once (that is, they are still around) now have to consider how to maximize both dissemination and impact. This is where education (the science of how we come to know) is most needed.

    For international mission-driven organizations, learning, education, training, and publishing are often split functions. (I haven’t included knowledge management, having declared its timely demise elsewhere). They may or may not be centralized, organized, or measured. Some – but not all– may still be operating on old models (face-to-face training to drive performance or manual layout to prepare publications) or in the midst of their respective digital migrations.

    Talking convergence is really about starting at the vanishing point, and working back to the present. I am now convinced that, although each function holds its own values (and value), the lens of education is the most powerful and significant one – and the one most likely to drive strategy in a knowledge-based organization.

    Convergence and cross-fertilisation: Semantico talks to Toby Green and Reda Sadki about publishers and learning

    Photo: Pietro Perugino’s usage of perspective in the Delivery of the Keys fresco at the Sistine Chapel (1481–82) helped bring the Renaissance to Rome.

  • Quality in humanitarian education

    Quality in humanitarian education

    Humanitarian education is a huge undertaking. Each year, for example, 17 million trainees learn first-aid skills through face-to-face (FTF) training programmes run by the 189 National Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies worldwide. People of varied educational backgrounds join their local Red Cross or Red Crescent branch because they want to learn how to do first aid, how to prepare for or recover from disaster, or how to make their community more resilient. They also join to meet other like-minded people, building social ties and using the power of peer education to learn by doing.

    FTF training has been efficient in terms of preparing volunteers to perform the tasks assigned to them, and social, peer-education training has also been an important component of the identity of volunteers and their sense of belonging to the organization. However, this formal way of teaching reproduces a one-way, didactic transmission of information, in which volunteers are given the knowledge they need to perform pecific tasks. Recent progress in massive open online courses challenge this model, although ques- tions remain about how effective and sustainable such learning approaches are (Daniel, 2012). This trend generates important questions for the IFRC concerning the use of educational technology while maintaining the purpose and quality of humanitarian education (Stracke, 2012).

    In 2009, the IFRC published its first online course – World of the Red Cross and Red Crescent – to support the training of its international personnel. Experts developed courses on global health, security and other thematic areas. These courses were delivered through a single ‘Learning Platform’ which became part of the Red Cross and Red Crescent Learning and Knowledge Sharing Network in 2010. The network initially emphasized accredited learning, thus acknowledging that such learning remains the only valid currency in the professional world, even though Red Cross Red Crescent workers have acquired skills and knowledge in the field that deserve recognition.

    By May 2013, less than 1 per cent of the world’s 13 million Red Cross Red Crescent volunteers had accessed the Learning Platform. The cost of internet access and the digital divide remain major obstacles. But the number of learners on the Learning Platform doubled in 2012 and its growth rate is accelerating. Users have completed nearly 60,000 online courses since the platform’s launch in October 2009, with more than 5,000 course registrations every month. At almost 50 per cent, the completion rate is a major success compared to the 20 per cent that is considered an acceptable rate in e-learning. Eleven National Societies already have more than 1,000 learners on the platform, with the Canadian, French and Swedish Red Cross among the early adopters. In November 2012, the Australian Red Cross, which had never used online learning in training, became the first National Society to adopt the Learning Platform for training all of its 3,300 staff members. It organized a nationwide roll-out and integrated online education into its workforce development strategy, with research already scheduled to document impact on performance.

    For the first time, the Learning Platform enables volunteers to tap into a global knowledge community with no intermediaries prescribing or circumscribing what they should learn. By connecting to the platform, volunteers discover learning opportunities that relate to an essential aspect of their engage- ment: their thirst for learning as the means to changing their reality.

    In 2012, following the Learning Platform’s success, the IFRC offered a ‘new learning’ programme using dialogue between learners and peer review to promote open, active learning. In its pilot phase at the Global Youth Conference, 775 people from more than 70 National Societies – four times more than the number of conference attendees – participated in learning ‘missions’ and ‘live learning moments’. Fifty-eight per cent of participants worked consistently on the learning activities, producing more than 140 pages of content. The same percentage said the programme improved their ability to think critically, analyse, evaluate and apply what they had learned about youth issues.

    Questions arose about the learning effectiveness and impact of the IFRC’s online courses. Perhaps prompted by the legitimate demand that a new medium demonstrate its value, these questions also reveal an attachment to and assumptions about the comparative advantage of traditional learning modalities. However, researchers completed two comprehensive comparative meta-analyses in 2010. Their conclusions were definitive: since 1991, distance learning has delivered equal or better learning outcomes than traditional FTF programmes (Shachar and Neumann, 2010), while ‘blended learning’ (supplementing FTF instruction with online instruction) has not enhanced learning results (US Department of Education, 2010).

    These studies demonstrated that quality is not determined by the means of delivery; however, they did not determine or assess the quality of the pedagogies used, whatever medium or technology. Many online learning technologies of the recent past, including the IFRC’s first online courses, were modelled on top- down, legacy training systems – somewhat like early film-making, which started by recording live theatre. As Bill Cope at the University of Illinois explains: “In their basic approach and use in practice, these are heavily weighted to the transmission of centralized knowledge from the center to the periphery.” They are “frequently not effective” as the transmitted knowledge is “often abstract and de-contextualized”, while “the value of existing local knowledge, practices and understanding” is “not recognized or incorporated into the learning experience” (Cope and Keitges, 2013).

    The IFRC is exploring how innovation in learning connects back to National Societies’ rich history and culture, how technology might support learning from the local knowledge of National Society volunteers to strengthen cross-cutting knowledge, skill and competency development, and how collaborative learning communities might be developed across language and other barriers for National Society volunteers. More than 50 online courses destined for the Learning Platform are now in the pipeline, with clearly established, open standards for technology, content and pedagogy, aligned to the ISO 19796-1 quality standard for learning, education and training. Every course is now required to have an evaluation framework in place, to collect data that will be used in an annual review process.

    But for humanitarian education to truly be transformed, further pedagogical innovation is needed. For example, online educational resources should also be accessible from mobile devices, notes IFRC’s new guidelines. This opens up new pedagogical possibilities: non-traditional contexts for learning, reaching remote constituencies and allowing interaction both between teacher and learner, and between learners. New courses, like the public health in emergencies modules, use mobile-first responsive technology to deliver an immersive learning experience to any device (mobile, tablet or desktop) with a modern browser. These courses are grounded in the field experience of IFRC experts and the evidence base. The peda- gogical patterns emphasize application of knowledge, analytical skills and the ability to discover, analyse and interpret from a multiplicity of data sources through teamwork.

    The ability to recollect information still matters, but developing the skills and competencies that will enable the learner to perform in the face of the unknown takes precedence.

    Written by Reda Sadki. First published in the World Disasters Report 2013: Focus on technology and the future of humanitarian action.

  • The significance of technology for humanitarian education

    The significance of technology for humanitarian education

    First published in the World Disasters Report 2013: Focus on technology and the future of humanitarian action. 

    Since the rise of the internet in the early 1990s, the most obvious benefit offered by educational technology has been its potential ubiquity or the ability to learn anywhere, anytime. In development contexts, sceptics have asserted that the ‘digital divide’ restricts this benefit to the privileged few, as only 40 per cent of the world’s population is online. But such analysis neglects the rapid pace of change in extending mobile (and mobile, 3G-based broadband networks) access in low- and middle-income countries.

    In many nations, the majority of web users use only mobile phones; the countries with the highest rates include Egypt (70 per cent) and India (59 per cent). In Africa, 85 per cent of the mobile-only web users access the internet with a ‘feature phone’, a device offering some but not all of the features of a smartphone. In high-income nations, a large minority of mobile web users are mobile-only, including the United States (25 per cent). Where, in many low- and middle-income nations, the mobile-only tend to be aged under 25, in high-income countries, particularly the United States, many mobile-only users are older people and many come from lower-income households (ITU, 2013). These statistics imply that for educational technology to be deployed effectively in the contexts of low-, middle- and high-income countries, a mobile-first strategy building on open, low-cost standards and tools is needed.

    Education researchers Bill Cope and Mary Kalantzis (2012) have described the ways in which technology transforms the economy of effort in education, enabling us to afford (both literally and figuratively) not only to make learning available anywhere, anytime, but also to provide learners with formative assessment and recursive feedback as they work. In this economy of ‘new learning’ (see figure), learners use technology actively to construct knowledge, designing meanings using multiple media at their disposal. By working together collaboratively, every learner is also a peer and teacher contributing to collective knowledge and intelligence that can be used to further thinking and action as well as encouraging ‘metacognition’ (thinking about thinking). Unlike education in the industrial age, which levelled ‘one-size-fits-all’ assumptions, new learning can afford to differentiate based on pre-existing knowledge, competencies and skills.

    Figure 1 principles of online learning

    In a new learning system, learners create together, giving each other feedback (and even feedback on feedback), sharing their inspirations and discoveries. Within their knowledge communities, they are connected and can work at their own pace, according to their own interests and capabilities. They are inspired to create through embedding sound, image and video within their texts for digital storytelling, situation reports, operational plans and more. This collaborative, flexible, motivating, participatory and supportive approach is not simply a nicer, kinder and gentler form of learning. Its pedagogical patterns closely emulate the core competencies of 21st century humanitarian workers, who are expected to be able to manage complex, overlapping knowledge flows, to work in networked configurations (rather than command-and-control structures) and to use participatory methodologies to partner with affected populations. If the ways humanitarians teach and learn do not explicitly develop these competencies, then formal education efforts will become increasingly ineffective. The amazing economy of effort afforded by educational technology is the only sustainable way to transform learning systems to meet the challenges of today’s volatile, uncertain, complex and ambiguous world.

    Written by Reda Sadki. First published in the World Disasters Report 2013: Focus on technology and the future of humanitarian action. Photo: Buddhist monks on a slow boat at the Mekong River near the border of Laos-Cambodia, during a workshop to increase awareness regarding dolphin and fish conservation. There are only 12 dolphins left in this area and a few more further down stream. The temples of Laos were once seen as “universities” for monks. Lao monks are highly respected and revered in Lao communities. Photography © Ben Thé Man/Flickr.com.

  • Chronology of a new transit camp on the Tunisian border (Part 2 of 2): Going live

    Part 1: Like clockwork | Part 2: Going Live

    10:45 – The distribution of relief items starts

    At the far end of the camp, four volunteers led by Arturo, a logistics specialist from the French Red Cross, get basic relief items ready for distribution. The items are NFIs, as we call them, or non-food items.

    11:00 – A clean bill of health for the camp’s youngest baby
    Omar is just 20 days old. If the International Organization for Migration (IOM) can find the funds, he should be out of the transit camp and back in his home country before he turns one month old. His sister, four-year-old Khadija, cries as Boutheïna talks to their parents, Aïcha and Mohammed. “She’s scared,” they explain. It turns out her lip is cut and hurting.

    Aïcha will also sit down with Marwa Ben Saïd, 22, a fourth-year psychology student from Bizerte, who meets them in the psychosocial support tent. The camp’s children will also be called back to be checked for vaccinations and overall health. The camp’s emergency tents are now up and running 24/7, with an impeccably clean and well-organized pharmacy and space to receive up to four people at a time.

    11:25 – Families under the tents
    Khaltouma and Admadaoud are part of an extended family of 24 people. They have settled into six tents and next to each other so that they’re not separated. They lived in Libya for nearly two decades, raising children and building their lives. Khaltouma’s husband had a steady job as a driver. “We left because of war,” she explains. Last night they managed to
    make it to the border. “When will we be able to go home?” is her first question.

    13:30 – A news agency visits the camp
    The national press agency Tunis Afrique Presse (TAP) arrives at the transit camp. Journalist Boutar Raouda stops at several tents to listen to people’s stories. She also meets the
    volunteers.

    14:55 – A new era for the Tunisian Red Crescent
    The transit camp waits for more arrivals. Moaz, the tent builder, has been a volunteer for almost half his life. He is here to help, but also because he hopes that the dramatic events of 2011 will lead to a new era for his National Society.

    15:00 Another bus arrives
    The next bus arrives with 19 young men. There are no hiccups.

    15:30 – Water, please
    Inside the kitchens, Selhouah, 50, and Imane, 25, women from the local community, have joined Livia, Mulass and Layna. Outside, Marco, a water and sanitation engineer, gets the water purification system ready.

    15h40 The first house call (or tent call)
    An anxious young man walks into the health tent. His cousin is sick and has trouble walking. So Dr Chem Chem Abdelnour visits their tent, and finds an older man, who is obviously exhausted. “His head hurts,” they say. The doctor invites him over to be examined. There are already two more people waiting for care back at the tent. Boutheïna welcomes them and keeps track of patient intake.

    15:52 – “Camp is now live”
    “Camp is now live. Tx to all for all the hard preparation.” The text message arrives via SMS. It’s from Roger Bracke, the IFRC’s head of operations. If everyone had not been so focused on their work, a loud cheer might have been heard rising above the hubbub of life in the transit camp.

    18:30 – Last bus of the night
    One more bus arrives before nightfall, bringing 27 new arrivals to the transit camp.

    19:30 – Dinner is served
    The kitchens serve their first meal, as the camp starts to wind down for the night. There are now 123 people at the camp with 13 families and a total of 28 children under the age of 13, and 4 elderly people over the age of 60. Almost everyone is from Chad (106), with 16 people from Mali and 1 Ghanean.

     

  • Chronology of a new transit camp on the Tunisian border (Part 1 of 2)

    Part 1: Like clockwork | Part 2: Going Live

    06:00 – Base camp wakes up
    Base camp wakes up. A cool breeze has risen along with the bright sun, whipping up sand and dust. The first crews of volunteers move out to the transit camp at Ras Jedir. Some of the volunteers, like 32-year-old Moaz, have spent the last four weeks installing tents that are now ready to provide shelter.

    “We learnt on the job,” he explains. Together with a group from the Finnish Red Cross, he carried out his work by referring to guidance manuals. But all the hard work has paid off and today, Moaz is proud that the tents are ready and safe. In total, 20 National Societies – from Algeria, Belgium, Denmark, Finland, France, Iraq, Iran, Italy, Jordan, Lebanon, Luxemburg, Morocco, the Netherlands, Norway, Palestine, Qatar, Syria, the UK and US, and, last but certainly not least, Tunisia – have contributed to building the transit camp.

    Six and a half kilometres away, people have gathered at the Tunisian border crossing. The International Organization for Migration (IOM) will be shuttling them to the transit camps at Shousha and, for the first time, here. How many will arrive? Will there be many families? And, most importantly, how long they will have to wait before they can go home? Money is drying up both for the transit camp and for the repatriation efforts. Just as the camp is opening its doors, funding is desperately needed to meet the needs of those arriving.

    08:00 – The volunteers are ready to go
    Small groups of Tunisian Red Crescent volunteers leave base camp for the transit camp. Boutheïna is a 25-year-old prosthetist, the eldest of three sisters who all volunteer for the Tunisian Red Crescent. In fact, Boutheïna declares that her family, her job and the Red Crescent are the three most important things in her life. She is looking forward to working with the medical team today to welcome families and anyone needing health care. Her only regret? That she won’t be able to stay longer.

    08:20 The Red Cross Red Crescent kitchen crew gets cooking
    The Italian Red Cross kitchen crew arrive. Livia is a 23-year-old Italian psychology student who joined the Red Cross after the earthquake in Italy last year. She joins Mulass and Layna, both nurses, to start preparing the first meal to be served tonight at 19:30. They will work alongside fellow volunteers from the Algerian Red Crescent and with women from the local community.

    09:10 – The registration crew is ready and waiting
    The convoy of new arrivals is now leaving the border. At the registration centre, the volunteers wearing fluorescent yellow and orange jackets get ready. They have undergone intense training to be ready for today.
    Atef mans one of the desks that will welcome newcomers. He is a 26-year-old first aider from Ben Ghardane, the town closest to the border on the Tunisian side that lives from trade with Libya. Until 22 February, he had been working across the border, but his company immediately brought him home. Six weeks later, he decided to come to the transit camp. “I’ve been there,” he says. He wants to help.

    09:28 – The first bus arrives
    The first bus arrives safely. The IOM delegates introduce themselves to the Red Crescent volunteers. People trickle out of the bus. They retrieve their luggage from a separate pick-up truck. There are huge suitcases, bags and boxes in all sizes, shapes and colours. Marhababikou”m” (welcome) is heard over and over, and quickly the new arrivals understand that they may soon be able to, at last, get some rest.

    The first children clamber off the bus. They are on their guard, like their parents, but there are no tears. Mohamed and Imane queue with their daughter Zina, age 3, and Tahar, a strong-built 17-year-old boy. Then come Hassen and Hossein, six-year-old twins dressed in matching red outfits.

    “They are real twins,” their father, Ousmane, explains proudly. A young man just turned 30, he has come with his wife, the twins, and Radhia, their two-year-old daughter. There is no more time to talk, as everyone lines up for registration.

    09:33 – Registration starts
    Working in two separate tents, over a dozen volunteers sit down with each family one at a time. Questions are asked and answered, mostly in Arabic, but also in French and English. Tickets are handed out to each person or head of household.

    A family from Mali explains that they lived in Libya for ten years. Their eight children – ranging from the eldest Awa, age 10, to Fatma, who is just 2 months old – were all born in Libya. But now this family wants and needs to go home. They want to know when they’ll be able to leave. And that is a question that keeps being asked.

    10:15 Registration ends
    All 80 people are now registered, and many have already made it to their tents. The children settle in, playing in the family quarters. Today marks a new chapter, not only for the new arrivals, but also for this new camp and all those who have worked hard to make it happen.

    NextPart 2: Going Live