In late January, when most people around the world viewed the coronavirus as a remote medical crisis afflicting residents of China, I knew better. As a veteran journalist now teaching at China’s top university, I could see that the epidemic was likely, slowly but surely, to become a global pandemic. With no cure, rapid spread in new “hot zones,” and limited information available to the public, I realized that my professional and personal life was going to be changed significantly.
As co-director of Global Business Journalism, a master’s degree program created by the International Center for Journalists and Tsinghua University in Beijing, I knew that we would need to plan to conduct our spring semester “virtually” through an online platform rather than in the classroom in China. Like almost all of our international students, I was outside of China and unable to return to the locked-down campus.
For my program, this crisis became an opportunity, and Global Business Journalism began its spring semester on schedule and with all students in attendance via the Zoom online platform. Now that the coronavirus is understood to be a global threat, more than 100 American universities and hundreds of others around the world switched from in-person to online classes in the first two weeks of March alone.
This unanticipated disruption need not be a burden, if you are adaptable and innovative. “Online education is an opportunity to make coursework more customized and flexible,” writes journalist and educator Lisa Waananen Jones.
Here are 10 tips to make an online learning experience more rewarding:
- Pick the right learning platform
Your online learning site must be able to handle the number of people in your classes or meetings. You need to consider whether your budget can afford a “premium” plan or whether you are willing to accept the limitations of free sites (usually capping the number or participants or limiting the time of your sessions). Different sites offer various features, including images of each participant, chat capabilities (for the full group or individual members), and group meetings taking place at the same time inside of the class session. In addition to Zoom, other platforms recommended by techradar.com include Docebo, Udemy, Skillshare, WizIQ, Adobe Captivate Prime and SAP Litmos. Other choices with free options include Moodle, ezTalks Webinar, Fastmeeting and Articulate Storyline. Some platforms are offering discounts to schools and nonprofit organizations.
- Beta test your platform
As I was working with my Tsinghua School of Journalism and Communication colleagues to set up our virtual classrooms, the Iowa Democratic caucuses demonstrated to the world the risks of adopting new technologies without sufficient beta testing. The failure of the Iowa vote-counting app, which was not rigorously tested, was a massive embarrassment. I realized that failure was not an option for me. We moved quickly with small-scale beta testing of several platforms and chose Zoom. We followed up with a beta test of five staff members and then our first-year graduate students. Each was successful. We were ready for our official launch – all within a week.
- Focus on your community
If you don’t already have a social media chat group for your class, create one. (My Tsinghua class uses WeChat, but WhatsApp, Facebook and other platforms can work for you.) I interact with my students far more often than when we were on campus together, answering quick questions and offering tips and suggestions. As you focus on your community, it also is important to tailor your lecture content the new communication medium you are using. Don’t just transfer your lecture notes or PowerPoint presentations to an online format. You need to communicate differently than in class. There is no natural interaction of professors and students. Students online don’t raise their hands or give you a non-verbal clue that they’d like to participate in a discussion. You will need to invite people into the classroom give-and-take and make them feel welcome. You can build student feedback into your lectures through simultaneous social media chats or online surveys.
- Think visually
Yes, I advise journalists to “think visually” in my new Multimedia Reporting textbook (Springer, 2019). But it is important to think visually as an online professor, too. The most boring way to teach is to be a talking head. I started with my virtual classroom set. As the son of a scenic designer for Broadway and opera, I created a backdrop for my lectures. A pair of life-sized terra-cotta warriors that I shipped home from Xi’an frames the shot of me in my makeshift home studio. On a more substantive note, I try to vary the images on the screen at any one time, whether still shots or videos. I have scrolled through best-practices examples on my screen and even conducted live searches of online databases to illustrate points I am trying to make. Of course, there’s always a risk that one of your visual exercises could go awry, but that’s part of the excitement of live TV.
- Lower expectations
Inevitably, something will go wrong in real time: The streaming video, someone’s audio, someone’s internet connection, the live chats, the advanced functions on your platform. Patience is important. As long as your students understand that this virtual classroom might not be perfect, everyone will be a bit less anxious if they experience an “oops” moment.
- Get plenty of rest
Teaching online takes more energy than teaching in the classroom. It’s like being on live television. Try to get a good night’s sleep before each performance. (And always have a cup of water, tea or coffee nearby.)
- Be forgiving of your students’ complications
My remote-teaching experience is unusual. My students span 22 time zones. My class begins at 9 a.m. on the east coast of the United States. For my students, that means 10 p.m. in Japan and Korea, 9 p.m. in China, 5 p.m. in Oman, 3 p.m. in South Africa, 2 p.m. in Europe, and 6 a.m. in Vancouver and Los Angeles. Some students, cloistered in their parents’ homes, have to whisper so they don’t awaken slumbering relatives. I have allowed some students to present “oral” reports through the group chat function. Remember: It’s not the students’ fault that our spring semester has become so complicated.
- Give your students individual attention
It’s important to build or maintain relationships with everyone in your class. That becomes particularly important when you cannot engage in the basic social interactions of a classroom setting. Instead of having my regular weekly office hours, I feature “virtual office hours” at times arranged with each student. Because some students are shy, I have reached out to schedule meetings in advance of major assignments. I leave a few minutes after every lecture for students who want to hang around in the virtual classroom and ask me any questions on their minds. I also respond to social media messages or email from my students within the day (or sooner, if practical). I believe it’s important to show students that you care about their learning experience and their progress.
- Remain physically active
Over the first few weeks of my online teaching experience, I found that I sometimes felt lonely or irritable. I was accustomed to the give-and-take with students, and the social camaraderie of my office. To overcome a sense of isolation, I make sure to exercise regularly. My colleagues and students in China have developed much more creative coping mechanisms during their weeks in quarantine. Those of us free to move around in our hometowns must act responsibly, but we don’t want to cloister ourselves and live in a world of irrational fear.
- Rely on your teaching assistant or office staff
Teaching remotely requires more work than teaching in the classroom. It requires more coordination, communication and logistical planning than normal courses. It is vital that you empower your teaching assistant or office staff to remind students of upcoming assignments, guest lectures and schedule changes. And remember to say “thank you” to the staff that helps you.
“It will be hard to give up, even temporarily, the close colloquy and individual attention that defines Amherst College,” she wrote, “but our faculty and staff will make this change rewarding in its own way, and we will have acted in one another’s best interests.”
This article was written for cross-posting on the International Journalists’ Network (IJNet).
The coronavirus can’t stop the Global Business Journalism program from its mission to train reporters worldwidePosted: February 26, 2020
I was at home during Tsinghua University’s winter break when news of the coronavirus outbreak made its way into Chinese and international media in January.
As soon as I read about the deadly epidemic, I knew that my life, and my students’ lives, would be significantly disrupted. Little did I know that it also would turn into an opportunity for me and my Tsinghua School of Journalism and Communication colleagues to experiment with innovative distance-learning tools, offering our students the chance to continue their education in new and exciting ways.
Despite some initial optimism in Chinese media, it was clear that the epidemic that started in Wuhan was out of control. With 35 years of experience as a journalist in the United States, I had experience in separating facts from rumors, and calmly carrying on in times of upheaval and panic. As international co-director of the Global Business Journalism program, a prestigious English language masters program at Tsinghua University, I immediately focused on my students.
Half of our Global Business Journalism students are Chinese, and they were home with their families. Our international students live in more than 20 countries around the world. Our office found out where they were and how they were doing. (They were all healthy and surprisingly calm.) Most were home with their families overseas, though a few students remained in China during the winter break, either on campus or with relatives in China.
My next priority was to prevent panic while honestly sharing the facts available to GBJ’s leaders. I realized it was important for our program’s global website, GlobalBusinessJournalism.com, to provide reliable, timely, accurate information about the coronavirus and its impact on Tsinghua students.
Early optimism, fueled by upbeat coverage in some Chinese media, led some people in our GBJ community to believe that spring semester classes would resume on campus with minor delays. As someone who has coped with emergencies as a reporter and manager, I strongly believed that there was more than a 90 percent likelihood that we would not be able to return to Beijing any time soon.
Well, unfortunately, I was right. Chinese government officials instituted quarantines around the country, and intercity travel was severely restricted. Almost every other country canceled all flights to and from China. Our students, even if they wanted to, could not return to Beijing.
Out of necessity came opportunity. Through conversations on Skype and WeChat, my colleagues and I discussed ways to create virtual classes so we could resume classes as scheduled on Feb. 17 and give students a valuable educational experience. The university’s visionary leadership had the same idea, and aggressively pursued solutions.
Tsinghua tried to create a proprietary online learning platform, but the beta tests showed that it wasn’t ready for widespread use. We needed to find a stable, reliable platform for online classes.
We also had a logistical problem. Global Business Journalism students are spread out over 22 time zones. It was almost impossible to find a time that would work for everyone. For my advanced news writing class, we settled on 8 a.m. in Washington, which is 2 p.m. for my students in France and Spain, 3 p.m. in South Africa, 5 p.m. in Oman, 9 p.m. in China, and 10 p.m. in Japan and Korea. Thank goodness Global Business Journalism students are flexible and adventurous.
Then came the Iowa caucuses in the United States on Feb. 3. As odd as it sounds, the massive technology failure in Iowa played a key role in our Chinese academic experience. The Iowa Democratic Party didn’t properly beta test its new app, and the result was disaster. It was a PR disaster, but, more importantly, it was a failure that did not serve their customers: Iowa voters, the media and the American public.
I realized it was vitally important to carefully test platforms in advance so we could provide a positive experience for the students. Our international journalism staffer, Li Chengzhang, and my teaching assistant, Wan Zhixin, tried a few and concluded that a conference app called “Zoom” was our best prospect. The university and Zoom’s Chinese subsidiary reached an agreement to let students use the platform for free until June. We beta tested the app repeatedly: once with just four of us, then a “dry run” with the entire first-year Global Business Journalism class. Then we were ready for classes, or so we thought.
Of course, there were a few glitches caused mostly by the varying qualities of internet connections around the world. But our class was an educational triumph. Students could see me, hear me, see my PowerPoint presentations, and see articles that I had called up on my computer screen for analysis. All of the other Global Business Journalism program’s classes proceeded without incident, and the student reaction was overwhelmingly favorable.
“Even though the virus has resulted in the [journalism] school having to use a virtual classroom, it’s still brought so many good stories to the front page,” said Hai Lin (Helen) Wang, a GBJ master’s student from Canada who has been staying with her grandparents in Tianjin. “I hope we can all take advantage of this time.”
I conducted the first class from my dining room table in Arlington, Virginia. For the second class, I created a China-themed classroom in my basement, with two life-sized terracotta warriors from Xi’an in the background.
I feel heartened by the outpouring of support from around the world. A typical message came from said Ralph Martin, an emeritus professor of computer science at Cardiff University in Wales and a former guest professor at Tsinghua. “I hope your online courses go well and things will soon be back to normal,” he wrote in a note shared on university social media accounts.
I’m taking this one week at a time. We could have a technological meltdown any week. But I am cautiously optimistic. And I am looking for the silver linings in this dark cloud. For one thing, I can now ask prominent journalists, academics or policymakers in Washington, Europe or Africa to join our class in real time.
I have great sympathy for everyone who has gotten sick, and mourn those who have died in the coronavirus epidemic. I feel a sense of empathy for the billion-plus people whose lives have been upended. While my academic routine has changed significantly, I can’t say that I have suffered, like so many of my friends and students in China. I think of them (and talk to them) every day.
In good times and in these challenging times, Tsinghua University has inspired me to become a better person and a better teacher. As a professor who loves teaching the brightest aspiring journalists from around the world, I owe it to my students to give them an educational experience that they will always remember … in a good way.
The world gave us lemons, and we are trying to make something sweet out of it. As one of my Texas friends said to me: “Lemonade, Rick. Lemonade.”
>>> Are you interested in applying to join Global Business Journalism or do you know a college senior or young journalist who would be interested in pursuing a master’s degree in the program? Here’s a link for admissions information.
It’s time for Christmas holidays with the family in America. After working and living in China for six and a half years, I now experience culture shock each time I return to Washington.
Empty sidewalks. Empty subways. Clean air. Polite people. Polite drivers. (Yes, by Beijing standards.)
I also appreciate those American characteristics that are so deeply ingrained that I can’t change, no matter how hard I try to adapt to my surroundings in Beijing. Here is a list of some of those American traits that give me reverse culture shock – and some I can’t shake.
- American food portion sizes are obscene. The steaks are enormous. And so are the plates. No wonder people eat so much. No wonder we’ve become a super-sized society.
- Americans eat way too quickly. Maybe it’s the chopsticks that have slowed me down. But I seem to be the last person finished with my meal each time I return to the U.S. Eating slowly improves digestion and helps you lose weight. Another reason there are so many obese Americans with heartburn.
- Most of the world doesn’t share America’s obsession with junk food, fried food and gloppy, sweet sauces. I have to admit it: I love good French fries (especially in Belgium). But do we have to eat everything fried, or cooked in/with bacon.
- Americans are impatient. We want what we want when we want it. We don’t like to wait in lines. We like our customer service to be friendly. (But not too “have-a-nice-day” saccharine.) Basically, we want service. Most of the world isn’t like that. They wait in lines. In England, the queue up. They don’t complain. I’m American. I complain. I can’t help it.
- Guns. Rifles. Machine guns. The rest of the world will never understand the fascination of so many Americans with weapons of death and destruction. Try explaining to Chinese (or Europeans, or Africans) why the U.S. Supreme Court says Americans have the right to own and use assault weapons. You can talk about the Founding Fathers and the anger at British soldiers for billeting themselves in private homes. You can talk about militias and suspicion of too much government power. Almost nobody agrees.
- American football does not translate. While NBA basketball enjoys a rabid following in China, and the NHL has a modest cadre of ice hockey fans, the National Football League does not compute. Modern-day gladiators and physical freaks ripping each other’s heads off for the pleasure of the masses and the profits of the few. OK, every society has its peculiar attractions. We don’t eat duck paws or pig’s brains in America, after all.
- The Electoral College just cannot be explained. America is a democracy, right? We tell that to people around the world. But the presidential candidate with the most votes wins? No, she doesn’t. The only things harder to explain than the logic of the Electoral College are gerrymandering and the fact that California and Alaska have the same number of senators. Democracy. In theory: great. In practice, it’s complicated. But better than the alternative.
- What is a Kardashian? The peculiarly American trait of people being famous for being famous is a hard one to explain.
- Binge-watching is unheard of. Most people from most countries don’t sit in front of a screen for days on end and watch a TV series. They find the modern American habit a bit amusing, if baffling.
- More food differences: Americans expect ice in their drinks. Americans expect cold beer. Americans expect free refills on (most) drinks. After six-plus years, I’ve given up ice. But I prefer my beer chilled, not room temperature.
- Americans are caffeine addicts. The morning cup of coffee is American (and European). It’s definitely not Chinese, at least yet. Every visiting professor in my program asks where they can get a morning coffee fix. I now find this American addiction to be amusing. I prefer some nice Chinese tea.
- Americans tip. A lot. And they tip a lot of people. Chinese people don’t tip. Some students of mine, visiting Washington, asked if they had to tip the waiter at a bar-and-grill. After all, the bill already was $30 per person, including tax. Yes, I sternly replied. It’s not optional.
- Americans drive on small errands. In the U.S., people drive to the grocery store, drive to the pharmacy, drive to the library, drive to restaurants. It’s the default means of transportation. I still have to readjust each time I return. I’m so used to jumping on the subway or my bike.
- Americans are very old-fashioned when it comes to paying for products. Cash is almost obsolete in China. Electronic payments via AliPay or WeChat Pay are the norm. Americans use credit cards, many with big annual fees and high interest rates. A lot of Americans still carry cash. How 20th century.
- Americans stubbornly cling to their weights and measures. Almost every country in the world has gone metric. Not the US of A. Every American expat has to translate their heights, weights, volumes and temperatures. Since I’m mathematically inclined, it’s easy. Other Americans just give up. But when they say it’s 32 degrees, they mean it’s freezing. People in China are baffled because they seem to be saying that it’s 90 degrees (Fahrenheit) – 32 degrees Celsius. By the way, I am 168 cm tall.
- You can’t always get what you want. Some food favorites from the U.S. are not popular in China: Bagels, donuts, rye bread, corned beef, cheese, queso, hummus, cream of mushroom soup. We have to be patient and wait for the next trip home.
- Chinese have a different version of Christmas. Yes, there are Santa Clauses, Christmas trees and Christmas songs across China. ‘Tis the season for conspicuous consumption. What’s missing? In a sentence: The Chinese Christmas does not have Christ and does not have a mass. Merry Christmas, everyone!
Do you have any more cultural differences to add to the lift? Post a comment.
All of us have vivid memories of where we were when we found out about the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001. I was three blocks from the White House having breakfast with a group of reporters and three of Bill Clinton’s top political advisers. The following memory comes from my niece Delia’s boyfriend Jake. It is wiser than anything I could write:
Sixteen years ago, I watched from my elementary school window as smoke shot out of the twin towers and a second plane collided with the buildings. At that age, 7, almost 8, I couldn’t comprehend what was happening. I honestly believed it to be a super high budget movie. The wind blew debris over my school, as my classmates and I ran around the yard collecting scraps in childlike glee.
They took us inside and turned on the news as parents arived to bring their children home, and my friends and I played and laughed, ignorant in the happenings of our city.
My dad arrived and brought me home. A look of pure stress on his face, but I still sat smiling at a day of school ending earlier than usual.
As I’ve aged, my understanding grew quickly, and now every year I remember what it was like to be carefree and ignorant, before a great tragedy took countless lives from this earth.
This world is in turmoil. Take today to remember what what the world looked like before you knew its truth, and know the truth can become the peaceful world of a child’s thoughts if we stop the hate and remember to love.
Here is the text of my address to the 2017 graduating class of the Global Business Journalism Program at Tsinghua University on June 28, 2017.
大家好。Добрый день. Benvenuti. Welcome.
I am honored, on behalf of the International Center for Journalists and the international faculty of the Global Business Journalism Program, to congratulate all of you on your successful completion of your graduate studies.
You are a special group – the best young business journalism minds in China, along with a unique mixture of nations: Iran, Israel, Italy, Vietnam, Thailand, Uganda, Zimbabwe, Slovakia, Turkey, Russia, Canada, and the United States. Some of you already have made a mark on the world of business journalism during your Tsinghua years. I have great confidence that many more of you will have an impact in the years to come, in journalism systems as disparate as Iran, the United States and China.
All of us in this room have our differences – cultural, geographical, even political – but one thing that unites us is the search for truth. As Jim Asher, a 2017 Pulitzer Prize winner for his role in the Panama Papers investigation, said recently: “A world without facts can’t function.”
We live in an unsettling era when the concept of “truth” can be a matter of dispute. Kellyanne Conway, a counselor to Donald Trump, has declared that the White House is entitled to its own “alternative facts.” Whatever that means.
To the graduating class of 2017 and your proud professors, that’s just plain nonsense. We owe it to the public, whether we operate in the United States, China, or anywhere around the world, to share the truth, as best as we can tell it, and to explain what the truth means to our audience. As the 2017 National Press Club president, Jeffrey Ballou, said to fellow American journalists in Akron, Ohio: “Truth is not a game at all.”
The esteemed Russian author Fyodor Dostoevsky, in Братья Карамазовы, The Brothers Karamazov, summed up the predicament of the perpetual prevaricator. “The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie,” he wrote, “comes to a point that he cannot distinguish the truth within him, or around him, and so loses all respect for himself and for others.”
We must respect knowledge, respect truth, and respect ourselves. We owe it to the global public to use the knowledge we have gained about China and about global economics to provide our audiences with intelligent, insightful and factual reports. With your newfound expertise on the Chinese economy, globalization, corporate strategies and much more, you can communicate clearly and comprehensively, on any multimedia platform, about issues ranging from the Paris climate change accords to the Belt and Road Initiative.
One of my favorite philosophers, Nelson Mandela, said that “a good head and good heart are always a formidable combination. But when you add to that a literate tongue or pen, then you have something very special.”
You have something very special – tools that you can use to make the world a more informed and a more just place. Because, as our dean, Liu Binjie, said in his speech welcoming many of you to the Tsinghua School of Journalism and Communication in September 2016, “Justice is the soul of the news.”
Barbara Cochran, my successor as president of the National Press Club Journalism Institute in Washington, reminds us that truth is an imperfect pursuit, and journalists are imperfect people. “All news organizations make mistakes from time to time,” she said recently, “but they are trying to tell the truth and generally do it well.”
Truth and justice. The Global Business Journalism program has been trying to live up to the highest international standards for the past 10 years. Since 2007, the GBJ program has combined rigorous academics with practical journalism training in a cross-cultural setting at one of the world’s great universities.
Thanks to the vision of brilliant minds such as Professor Li Xiguang, ICFJ president Joyce Barnathan, and ICFJ vice president Vjollca Shtylla, the GBJ program was created. Thanks to the financial and journalistic support of Bloomberg News, ICFJ, the Knight Foundation and Bank of America, it has grown and prospered. Thanks to the commitment of Tsinghua leaders like Dr. Hang Min, Dean Shi, Dean Chen, Dean Hu, Professor Lee Miller, Professor Dai Jia, and many more, it has a bright future. Thanks to dedicated and high-achieving alumni from some 60 countries, GBJ is improving the quality of journalism – and public understanding of economic issues — in China and around the world.
I close by quoting my favorite philosopher, my grandfather, Barrows Dunham. In his 1947 book Man Against Myth, he concluded that understanding the truth was necessary to overcome society’s myths. “With words, as with knowledge generally,” my grandfather wrote, “there can be no substitute for constant analysis of fact.”
Truth. Justice. Words. Knowledge. Tsinghua. That pretty much sums it up. Congratulations on your achievements in the Global Business Journalism Program. I look forward to your truth-telling in the years to come.