I’ve been particularly interested in the rise of VR tech over the past few years because for a long time, I’ve been a fan and collector of perhaps the first widely popular VR device used for educational purposes: the stereoscope.
The stereoscope is a device from the 19th century which operates on the simple concept that our eyes create depth by comparing our left-eye image and our right-eye image. If you view two images that have been taken about 5-10 cm apart (the distance between your eyes), one in your left eye and one in your right eye, then your brain will fuse them into a single, 3D image. The stereoscope enhances this effect by adding in lenses which make the image seem larger in your field of vision.
Educational designers always love to take new technology intended for entertainment and use it in an educational capacity. Apparently, that was even true before educational technology existed. As well as saucy pin-ups, stereoscopes were sold to factories to educate people about work practice and schools for geography and economics lessons. Before the aeroplane, the stereoscope made the world available to the middle classes by placing absorbing 3D images of exotic locals in homes.
Devices like the Oculus Rift and the Gear VR use the same basic concept as the stereoscope, but with screens taking the place of photographs. Perhaps one day they’ll be just as ubiquitous as the stereoscope once was.
QR Codes have always excited me, a handy way to create a link between digital and analogue (“dead tree”) information sources that doesn’t require any specialist software to create. All you need is a tablet or phone with a QR code reader installed, a website you want to link to and access to one of the many free websites that will whip up a QR code for you.
The big problem is knowing where to go from there. Technically your imagination is the limit, but I think it can be tricky to come up with uses for QR codes which doesn’t feel like a superficial gimick.
Here’s an attempt. A very nerdy attempt. Here’s a copy of Beowulf, an Old English poem, featuring the ability to scan a code and hear the poem in its original language. I feel like this is a genuine addition to the experience, as reading Old English doesn’t give you the same, authentic experience that listening to it does.
(Note, the jump in the video isn’t me “cheating”, I promise! I just live in a rural area with very slow internet. I thought I’d spare you having to wait for 20 seconds while things load.)
When I was 12, my school made me fill out a form purporting to be able to tell me my learning styles. Apparently, I was either an auditory, visual or kinaesthetic learner. My teacher said that how you learn and revise should be different, depending on the form’s conclusions. An auditory learner might create a revision song while a kinaesthetic learner might count on their fingers.
My sensible classmates ploughed through the test and got on with their lives, but I was feeling cantankerous. I didn’t want some stupid label. It seemed silly. I could see myself learning in all three ways. In protest, I spent most of the lesson creating an information sheet on a new style of learning which I called oditory learning. An oditory learner, I decided, learned by smelling things.
I know, I know. I was a bit of a smartypants.
As an instructional designer, I still run into the concept of learning styles. But here’s a secret which shouldn’t be a secret: 12 year old me was right. The evidence behind learning styles is shaky at best, and could be a barrier to the creation of great learning.
Not when I’m about to share the great pieces that have been made based on Time to Draw prompts!
I’ve tried to put links to artist’s websites where I could find them. Click on the image to see more of the artist’s work.
Fun, fun, fun! If anyone has any more to add, let me know!