Over the years I have taken part in, and hosted, a number of online talks, webinars and discussions. Until Covid-19 changed everything, I hadn’t given much thought to what I’ve actually learnt in terms of the process involved. Now that a couple of courses I signed up for have moved online, I find it interesting to observe the issues people have (and to discover new ones). Time permitting, I hope to write a few blog posts sharing my own (unfortunate) experiences when it comes to online discussions.

Be careful with comments

Someone I know has a sort of Pavlovian response to the words ‘A’ Level Computing. Just say ‘A’ Level Computing, and he will launch into a rant of epic proportions. Once the rant has started, you can go to the kitchen, make yourself a cup of tea and a sandwich, feed the cat and make the bed, and return just in time for him to pause for breath. The reason for the rant is justified. It centres on the fact that the examination board he uses asks for proof of student achievement in the form of screenshots. That was outdated when I had to submit such evidence 30 years ago, and that was for a basic skills course.

The rant was always good for a laugh, or when one needed a comfort break, but could be frustrating at other times. One such time was when he and I and another colleague were hosting a webinar (online seminar), and someone mentioned ‘A’ Level Computing. That was it. After 30 seconds of his ranting, my trying in vain to grab control of his microphone, or to grab his attention in the chat proved all too much. In exasperation, I messaged the other host to say “How can we shut him up? Can we take away his admin status and boot him out? There must be something we can do to get him to put a sock in it.”

Except that I didn’t say that in a private message at all: I inadvertently wrote it in the public chat area, for all to see. Fortunately, as my friend was in mid-rant, he didn’t notice, and after that it didn’t matter because the other host and I were convulsed with laughter, so we couldn’t have done anything with the discussion anyway.

Be mindful of what you screenshot

On another occasion, I and my female colleague (the same one) were hosting a webinar about computing in schools, and one of us said, after some discussion, “We ought to talk about girls.”

A friend of mine responded, in the chat area, “Ooh, I like talking about girls.” As a joke, I hasten to add. Unfortunately, neither of us noticed at the time. It came to light the next day when we were training some teachers in the art of participating in a webinar. To illustrate my exposition, I’d taken a screenshot of the chat window, at a point selected at random. Unfortunately, my screenshot just happened to include that comment.

Once again, she and I were convulsed with laughter, only much more painfully this time because we had to hide it from the participants, who hadn’t seemed to notice that comment at all. Thank goodness.

Come on: do you REALLY need emojis?

Finally, a few weeks ago I was taking part in an online course, using Skype. I thought I’d experiment with the emojis in the chat area, rather than using words to voice my opinions. Unfortunately, these emojis turned out to be animated gifs, with ridiculous sound effects. I and someone else in the discussion could barely contain ourselves. The tutor, having taught, I believe, in secondary schools in the rough part of town seemed to be unphased by this puerile behaviour. But he sent me an email afterwards: “Might I ask you not to comment in the chat area please”… on the grounds that the comments were so funny they were distracting. All I can say is that he was much more patient and polite than I would have been — once I’d stopped laughing, that is.

The moral: don’t use chat or messaging unless there is really no other option. And if you are the host, turn off those facilities if the technology lets you.