I also liked the idea of implementing inclusion with active learning. I know that it is a discussion for later, but I always think its a good idea to have in the back of my mind while being an LA.

Another huge topic in my own teaching philosophy lies within the topic of inclusion. Growing up as a queer person in science fields, I have felt constantly overlooked due to my own identity. I feel that inviting both diversity and inclusion in education foster a sense of togetherness and enable learners to feel like their contributions and thoughts are important. Sometimes, when inclusion is overlooked, learners quickly turn apathetic towards content. 

Education is incredibly new to me in practice. I know I want to go into education after going to graduate school, but with that comes a source of self-doubt in my teaching abilities (due to the fact that I am not an education major). I feel like my philosophy on learning and teaching in itself will evolve drastically within the next few months. 

From the pre-party, I really resonated with the "thinking ugly" mentality. Struggling (in moderation of course) is one of the things in active learning that is difficult to find the sweet spot for. Providing material that is too challenging makes students apprehensive to trying, and material that is a little too straightforward in a sense takes away from the engagement of learning. I think that finding that sweet spot is something that I struggle with as well, but I have been working towards finding my own "sweet spot" (though ever-changing).

In terms of diversity, equity, and inclusion in teaching environments, I feel like I still have a lot to work on. One of the takeaways from Monday's discussion was that you do not have to sacrifice your own boundaries to cater to students and to let those students grow as learners. Trust in an educator is incredibly difficult, and it's not a short term thing that can be planned. I have also loved the topic of inclusion where we as educators are roping people back into a conversation without making them feel like it was their fault. Easier said than done, but I thought those examples that we talked about were paramount to the success of not only being a wonderful educator, but also a great human being. Upwards and onwards, my friends. :)

I resonated with the effects of stress on the brain and how it affects our learning. Sometimes I forget how stress affects other people differently than me, so that is something that I will try to be more cognizant about throughout my teaching career (and apply that to other aspects of my life as well!).

The flight instructor narrative really resonated with me. I think that sometimes it takes just one sliver of a moment of someone snapping at you to really hinder your learning. I've been there. I make a silly mistake and all of the sudden I don't even want to touch that subject for weeks. Moreover, I really like how it talked about how the situation harmed the instructor as well. Snapping at people hurts everyone. Being on both sides of that coin has made me really aware of my own situations similar to that.

In terms of diversity, equity and inclusion in the classroom, I believe that navigating how people respond to stress is paramount to the foundations of active learning. It does take a substantial amount of time getting to a personable level with people, but I think that a reward in that process is understanding how that person works from an individual and unique perspective.

In terms of inclusion, I think that active learning's ability to retain so many more students is a step to inclusion in itself. The meta-analysis used a comparison to a scientific study that would be so extreme that participants in the control group would have had to been stopped. That's insane! Like I'm still thinking about that to this day. By keeping people in courses, and lowering withdrawal/fail rates, that highlights how more people would be in their respective majors.

Another part of the meta-analysis that resonated with me was the retention rates for minorities in stem. The fact that the rate is so low just makes me so angry at institutions because I have been in that spot before. I feel like participating in the initiation of active learning in chemistry makes me feel like I'm making my past self proud.

I also liked how inclusive the double-entry journal was in terms of its medium. The way that it was accessible even to people on zoom—and the fact that we still did a gallery walk with them in consideration—is crazy! It really makes me excited to see that that is being implemented.

In terms of inclusion, I really gained a new perspective on what it means to have active learning in an online setting. I used to be fairly critical of zoom sessions as a whole, as I didn't quite comprehend how active learning could be implemented in the online setting. I am grateful that I am given this opportunity to expand my horizons in active learning.

Accessibility is a huge concern to me, especially in the medium of learning. I love how online courses are more accessible to people, and how "learning about learning" in a digital sense highlights that active learning should be accessible to everyone. I think that this lessons was one that I will think about for quite some time, and I am excited to implement it in my own learning when I can.

To connect this with another class I am taking, which is math major seminar, I am writing a research paper on how the lack of inclusivity in mathematics can cause a ripple effect in the inclusive spaces of other STEM spaces—which I chose to discuss in depth with chemistry. One of the main points I talked about with Cedar Wiseman (from the math department), is how inclusion perpetuates itself from a scientific perspective. I think that a lot of STEM educators believe that a lack of need for inclusion comes from the mindset that STEM is inherently objective (which has been proven to be false in a multitude of ways). In other words, since STEM is seen as an objective thing, they believe that inclusion is a form of unnecessary subjectivity.

I'm still in the researching phase of this one, but I thought it would be a really good thing to bring into this course (and today's reflection).

Blue = strategies

Red = pedagogy

Purple = personal assessment

A bit pessimistic, I know. But it feels like he likes taking the active learning "buzzwords" and implementing those. We focus a lot on IRAT/TRAT learning, but quite frequently, we run out of time for the groups to finish their TRAT, which is quite frustrating. He will often also use the words "affective modality" when trying to connect students to the course. I think he has the right intentions with that one, but sometimes I find that he does not provide certain aspects of resources to further strengthen the connection between the affective domain and learning analytical chemistry. I think that the lack of real-life connections leaves a lot of people even more frustrated then before.

It always feels dissonant in comparison to my approach. The first day, before anyone even knew who I was or what I did, I stood in front of 33 students and just talked about how much I loved analytical chemistry. Not because I enjoyed the content per se, but rather how I enjoyed how applicable analytical chemistry is. I said something along the lines of "I love analytical chemistry because no matter what reason you are taking this, you can (and will) find a way to implement aspects of this course into the everyday aspects of your future lives". I think that it something I hold dear to me.

I still remember how the smell of ponderosa and moss on the wet days in the late spring, hiking by myself. I found a sense of security in the backcountry. I could feel the strain on my body as I packed 30 pounds in and out on my backpack, the sweat feeling cold as the wind hit during hiking breaks. 

As a firm believer in karma, I knew to respect the backcountry. It was so fragile, yet so brutal to those who disrespected it. The bear spray that I have never once had to use sat in my left side pocket of my backpack each and every time I visited, feeling so important yet so useless at the same time. 

I would always have a goal when I went into the backcountry: pack out even more than you packed in. I would collect as much trash and food scraps that other people left behind, stuffing my bear canister to the brim as I left the park boundaries. What always made me confused was how people disrespected what I valued so much. Maybe they were naive—maybe they didn’t believe in karma—but for some reason I always felt uneasy about how people left the park worse than they found it. 

I think that is where my passion for sustainability began. I turned my confusion and anger into something much bigger, much more productive than I could ever initially think of. I wanted to share my beliefs with the world, as I knew that my contributions could only do so much. Every time I would invite one of my friends into the place I cared about so much, I challenge them to pack more out than I can. What was my own individual passion turned into the most fun contest that my friends could look forward to on the way out. We would be rushing to make it back to the trailhead and scramble to find any trash we could—all while keeping on the path, of course. 

I always think of that challenge as a little active-learning piece about sustainability—how an ecosystem so fragile can be upheld by being environmentally conscious. Teaching in that sense was like showing my most coveted, most deeply trusted place with someone else. That vulnerability I think is what allows for such a strong connection. 

It felt very natural (no pun intended) to flow through Kolb's Cycle. I think that the reverse-thinking of experience first, concepts second really helped formulate my own questions. (is this how the person who coined "inductive reasoning" felt?).

In terms of Columbia's principles, I think that accessibility was such a great place to provide input. The boundaries on this party were quite literally limitless, and that I think invited so many more perspectives on discussion.