Aastha B

This week, I had a moment. I scrapped a beautifully structured social media activity I had planned—one that took hours to design—because it simply didn’t land with my students.   They were confused. I was frustrated. But instead of forcing it, I paused and asked myself: What’s really going on here?   I realized I had created something too rigid. I had designed the activity around the tool instead of around my students. I gave them no “ledge,” no soft entry point to start engaging. And in trying to make the perfect learning experience, I forgot that learning is messy, unpredictable, and deeply human .   So I regrouped. I asked my students for input. We co-created new directions, trimmed the toolset, and returned to what mattered most: the learning objective . And something amazing happened—they started owning it.   This experience reminded me that social media isn’t the star of the lesson— it’s a supporting actor. My job is to set the stage, hand over the mic, and...

Last year, if you told me a retweet could help me become a better teacher, I would have laughed. Today, I’d nod and say, “Absolutely.” In one of the professional learning communities I’m part of, we began using Twitter and Facebook—not just for sharing ideas, but for actually building a support system. At first, I felt awkward putting my lesson ideas or classroom photos online. But then something shifted. A colleague commented, “Loved this approach!” Another shared a similar idea they had tried. Slowly, my confidence grew. What surprised me most wasn’t the feedback itself—it was how I felt. Teaching can be lonely. We often work in silos, questioning if what we’re doing even matters. But suddenly, social media made my invisible labor visible. And that mattered. We created a shared account where our small community could post, cheer each other on, and grow. No one made us do it. It just... happened. It became a space for reflective practice, collaborative problem-solving, and the occa...

  I used to think of social media as a distraction—something that belonged outside the classroom. But over the past few months, I've come to see it as something else entirely: a powerful learning tool, when used with intention. Planning my lessons with social media isn't about picking the “trendiest” app or cramming every platform into my syllabus. It’s about asking the right questions: Does this tool support my students’ learning goals? Can they access it easily? Do they know how to use it? And perhaps most importantly, how can it empower them to contribute meaningfully? I’ve started approaching lesson design like preparing for a potluck. I bring the foundation—the structure, the instructions, the objectives. But the flavor? That comes from the students. Their posts, their reflections, their voices. Sometimes that means giving them a simple starting point—a ledge—to jump off from. Not too rigid, not too loose. Just enough structure to guide, but with room to explore. I’ve l...

During a recent visit to Denver, I had the chance to explore some incredible habitats at the local zoo and aquarium—and I was genuinely amazed at how much I learned about ecosystems, animal behavior, and environmental design, all in one afternoon. From the sleek river otters gracefully spinning through the water to the powerful presence of the tigers resting on sun-warmed rocks, each enclosure was thoughtfully designed to mimic the animals’ natural surroundings. Watching the otters dive and play reminded me of how important clean, flowing water and natural features like logs are for their physical and mental stimulation. Inside the aquarium, I wandered through vibrant marine displays full of colorful fish, glowing jellyfish, and even a curious-looking starfish clinging to the glass. Each tank represented a different aquatic ecosystem, from tropical reefs to deeper, darker ocean layers. It was fascinating to see how lighting, plant life, and even water currents were carefully used to re...

This week has given me a lot to reflect on, especially when it comes to how we learn and teach in digital spaces. Using tools like Flickr and Pinterest for the first time in an academic context made me realize how much the lines between personal and professional can blur online. What stood out most was the idea that privacy, comfort, and control matter just as much as access and creativity. We often jump into new platforms because they’re convenient or popular, but we don’t always think about what we’re giving up—whether it’s our data, our boundaries, or our sense of ownership. I’ve become more mindful about the digital traces I leave behind and more aware of how others might feel differently about sharing online. This week reminded me that Web 2.0 is full of exciting possibilities—but it’s our job as learners and future educators to use it thoughtfully.

It is exciting to teach in the Web 2.0 era. There are seemingly unlimited tools available that allow us to connect, create, collaborate, and share in digital spaces. However, the more I think about it, the more I understand that this freedom comes with a host of ethical issues that cannot be disregarded, particularly when social media comes into the classroom.   One of the biggest concerns is privacy. When we invite students to use sites like Instagram, YouTube, or Twitter to do assignments, we're crossing the line between academic and personal life. Not everyone is comfortable with blurring those lines, and not all students feel safe posting in a public forum. We must ask: Are we really giving students a legitimate option ? Or are we assuming that "digital natives" automatically don't mind posting everything online?   Then there's the issue of data ownership and consent. Who owns the work that students create for school? Can it be reused by teachers? What hap...

I never really concerned myself with having an online presence. I'm positive, like most students, I agreed to terms and conditions without even reading them, signed up for sites because they were required for class, and posted assignments in learning management systems, assuming only my professor would see them.     This week's reading caused me to see that every document I upload, every comment I make, every app I use in a course—these are all adding to a growing digital identity. I've held back at times from contributing fully to discussions in class online because I didn't know who could see my comments or where they would go.   Now I pay attention. I check my privacy settings. I think about the amount of personal information that I do share. And I appreciate the teachers who matter-of-factly explain how we're gathering and storing our information. Monitoring an online presence isn't just about safety — it's about being thoughtful and intentional in ...

I made a pin about this challenge: https://pin.it/oNMWlhjyZ It links back to this post. And here it is as an embed:  

I tried Flickr for the first time this week, and I have to say—I wasn't really sure what to expect. My experience with sharing photos has been more through vehicles like Instagram or Facebook, where it feels like the goal is always performance over presence. But Flickr was different. It felt more sluggish, more measured, and surprisingly revitalizing.   As I wandered around the site, I could see how much care was taken to curate one's galleries. It wasn't about following or being liked—it was about posting something worth posting. In a way, this resonated with our readings this week regarding how we engage with and critique online content. Flickr made me consider the types of spaces where we feel safe to post, create, and be ourselves.   Unlike other places where a post can fall behind an ad or a viral diversion, Flickr reminded me of the wonder of a more focused digital space—one built around creativity and respect for each other. It caused me to reflect more deeply a...

In a more recent study by Hussain, Rafique, and Naveed (2023), the credibility of Facebook content among university students was evaluated. The results indicated that the information on Facebook was deemed credible and of good quality by the students, especially if it came from sources they believed in.   The most significant factors influencing this trust were source credibility, reliability of the platform, and information quality. Surprisingly, the age , education level, and social status of a student also influenced how they assessed credibility.   It reminds me that as we are prone to scrolling rapidly, we're always assessing what's real and what's not, even when we don't even realize we're doing so. It's a helpful reminder to pay attention to why we trust what we do.   Reference:   Hussain, K. M., Rafique, G. M., & Naveed, M. A. (2023). Determinants of social media information credibility among university students.  The Journal of Academ...

This week, I learned something that never crossed my mind before—how a hashtag can be such an effective educational tool.   I previously viewed hashtags in the context of social media culture: as a way of joining trends, a way of getting attention, or a way of tagging content. But in the case of online education, hashtags are doing something deeper— they're enabling students to connect, to tag ideas, to be part of a community.   Learning about how students used hashtags to track topics, share opinions, and talk with each other made me reflect on my own learning experiences. In big online courses, it's easy to get lost. Conferences can be long threads where it's hard to keep up with what was said. But hashtags give structure. They give a way of boarding onto specific subjects, scanning headlines, and even denoting emotion or identity in a discussion.     I'm beginning to see hashtags as more than digital labels— they're small machines that have the power to pro...