Today I experienced my first live on-line Educational Psychology class. And my experience can only be described as mortifying.
Now, I want to preface the story by telling you that I typically enjoy my college classes & I love the professor, Dr. Bruce Jackson. You should also know that I have never used a webcam before & do not have one built into my computer. I don't even like the idea of a webcam. Hello? CREEPY! Plus, sometimes technology chooses to embarrass & mock me. Honestly. I work with computers in most of my jobs, yet they always find a way to . . . well, mortify me.
Once a week, I have to use my webcam to participate in a live class session (Dr. Jackson retired from MBBC two years ago and moved to Colorado. He teaches Ed Psych from the comfort of his home in the Colorado mountains.). The live session scared me because I've never used a webcam before (I know, I know, incredibly archaic of someone my age).
Mandy & I met in the dining common & found a quiet booth away from the laughter & buzz of students eating lunch. 12:15--five minutes until class started. Plenty of time to set up the computer & get logged in. Mandy ran to get coffee while I prepared the computer.
That's when the troubles began.
First, my computer showed no visible signs of life when I pulled it out of my bag. That meant relocation to a table near a plug in. By 12:18, Mandy returned with her coffee and helped me move. We would enter the class late, but we were sure Dr. Jackson would be understanding.
12:22--With the computer connected to power & the webcam set teetering at the top of the computer screen, we logged in. We could hear Dr. Jackson, see his PowerPoint, & laughed at our various classmates who sometimes acted as though they were unaware they were being videoed. As my gaze roamed the computer screen, I realized that we couldn't see our picture. Mandy texted a friend (also in the class). No, they couldn't see us either. Stink. What did we do wrong?
Precious class-time ticked off the clock as Mandy ran to her bag (which we cannot bring in the dining common) to get a cheat sheet we were given in class last week.
12:25--We skimmed the cheat sheet & figured out how to connect the camera to the Adobe program. Hooray we were on! That's when the real horrors (for me, at least--Mandy just laughed & laughed) began.
Apparently, as soon as you turn the camera in the program, it automatically turns the mic on--permanently. The function works like a walkie-talkie, only at the beginning it's like the talk button is taped down. Get my drift? Well, being the first time my computer has used the webcam, it (my computer) froze while it figured out what programs would be necessary to function properly (ie. the webcam, the mic I plugged in, the Internet, and the Adobe program opened).
Now, I consider myself pretty adequate when using computer technologies. However, I did not know that I had a speaker built into my computer (who would assume such a thing when I do not have a webcam built in?).
Are you laughing yet? I hope you are. Mandy hasn't stopped laughing since this afternoon. I'm learning to, though, again, I'm still mostly mortified.
Anyway, my computer froze once we entered the room. I knew the camera was on, however, I didn't think about the mic. When my computer froze, I assumed that the other members of the room were no longer receiving feedback. Wrong. Apparently several class members & Dr. Jackson tried to tell us what was going on--only I wasn't receiving any of their posts or comments. Finally, Deb texted us, "We can hear you." WHAT?! I could have died. So, for seven minutes (I mean that literally. We watched the recording of the class this evening--mortifying.) the class & Dr. Jackson heard Mandy laugh as I verbally shared my frustrations (luckily, Mandy was closer to the mic. The only thing I said that could be distinguished, "the program just froze . . . I hate this . . ."). I kept trying to resolve the problem while the Dr. Jackson tried to go on with class (Mandy & I even called for technical help. Unfortunately, the lady did not answer her office or cell phone). Unfortunately, because our mic was on, those seven minutes of lecture are muddled by the sounds of the dining common.
After what seemed to be eternity, my computer finally caught up with me to shut down the Internet. Finally, we were off-line. I unplugged the camera, hoping my computer would fare better tackling one task at a time. My hands trembled as I reconnected to the Internet. "Lord," I prayed, "please let this connect properly this time." Mandy laughed as I looked at her & said, "Shut up, we're logging back on."
Upon re-entering the room I immediately turned off the automatic talk function. We listened to the lecture for about five minutes before I braved plugging the camera back in. "You want to try?" I asked Mandy. "Sure." With a huge lump in my throat & knot in my stomach I plugged in the camera & turned it on in Adobe. I fully expected the talk button to automatically turn on. It didn't, praise the Lord.
The rest of the class proceeded as normal with a few sound glitches. We laughed as Deb & Trisha knocked their camera off, sending viewers on a 360 ride of Trisha's room. We laughed as we watched Korinne fall asleep. But I think everyone, including Dr. Jackson, got their laugh of the day watching Mandy & I struggle through the first ten minutes of logging in.
After class Mandy & I laughed (okay, Mandy laughed & I blushed to the point of clashing with my hair) with classmates as I tried to explain (with Mandy's interjections of "I thought it was hilarious!") what exactly happened.
All I can say is, I'm glad it's over. And, as I always seek to, I definitely learned something new today.
Oh, & for future reference, I think there should be a day where all the students log in before class starts to ensure all programs are working properly.
You know, so no one is mortified, like me.
No comments:
Post a Comment