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Participating in the ONL course has been an enriching and transformative experience for me—far beyond what I initially expected. As someone with extensive experience in teaching, I approached the course with curiosity, but also with the question: What more can I learn about online learning that I haven’t already encountered in practice? The answer turned out to be: quite a lot.

The ONL journey opened up new ways of thinking about collaboration, openness, and digital pedagogies. One of the most powerful takeaways for me was the shift from teaching in isolation to teaching as part of a networked learning community. The PBL group work was particularly meaningful. It wasn’t just about completing tasks—it was about building trust, navigating cultural and professional diversity, and experiencing the very principles we were discussing. We were not just talking about collaboration; we were living it.

The mix of theoretical input and hands-on, reflective group work created a powerful learning dynamic. I appreciated how the course made space for questioning—not just how we teach online, but why. Why openness matters. Why sharing resources and co-creating knowledge with both peers and students is no longer a luxury, but a necessity in today’s educational landscape. These weren’t abstract ideas—they were discussed in relation to our real teaching contexts, and this grounded the learning in authenticity.

A special aspect of this experience was how it reframed student participation. I now see more clearly the importance of designing learning environments that are participatory, inclusive, and flexible—spaces where students are not passive receivers but active contributors. This mindset will shape the way I design both asynchronous and synchronous components in my future courses. I’m already thinking of ways to open up my materials, introduce collaborative tools more strategically, and embed moments of reflection and co-creation into my teaching practice.

Looking ahead, I carry with me both inspiration and responsibility. Inspiration to keep experimenting, but also responsibility to model the openness and collaboration that I wish to see in others—colleagues, students, institutions. I believe that when educators lead by example in this way, change starts to feel not only possible but inevitable.

If there is one thing I would love to explore further, it would be how learners themselves experience this shift toward openness. How do they perceive collaborative digital spaces? What kind of support do they need to truly flourish within them? I hope future iterations of the course might include more voices from students—after all, their perspective is central to shaping inclusive and effective online education.

In closing, I feel both grateful and energized. ONL has offered me not just new knowledge, but a renewed sense of purpose. I leave with ideas, tools, and a mindset that I know will continue to evolve—and that, for me, is the true mark of a meaningful learning experience.

One of the key insights from this topic was the realization that AI, while raising valid concerns around academic integrity, is not inherently a threat to education. On the contrary, it offers new opportunities for deeper engagement, especially if integrated thoughtfully into the learning process. The discussions reminded me that banning AI may be less productive than teaching students to use it critically and ethically—a shift aligned with the principles of adult education, which emphasize autonomy, reflection, and real-world relevance.

A recurring tension was how to assess learning meaningfully in an era where AI tools can easily generate text that appears original and coherent. I found the idea of using oral presentations, reflective assignments, and process-focused evaluation particularly compelling. These approaches align with constructivist and learner-centered methodologies, which value the process of learning as much as the outcome. They also allow educators to verify understanding beyond what is submitted in written form.

I resonated deeply with the shift in the educator’s role—from being the primary source of knowledge to acting as a facilitator and guide. With AI now capable of generating information, our responsibility is increasingly to support students in questioning, analyzing, and applying that information in meaningful ways. This also means building relationships of trust and openness, which are essential in fostering academic integrity and motivation.

This topic highlighted the urgency of developing critical digital literacy—both for students and educators. Students need to be taught not just how to use AI tools, but how to verify sources, understand biases, and evaluate the credibility of information. Most of all, how to COLLABORATE with AI tools. Educators, on the other hand, must remain up-to-date and trained to navigate these technologies themselves and guide learners accordingly.

Finally, what became increasingly clear is that the educational system as a whole must adapt. From course design to assessment policies, institutions need to rethink structures in light of AI. This may include co-creating guidelines with students, reimagining what constitutes “original work,” and designing learning environments that prioritize engagement, creativity, and ethical awareness.

This topic encouraged me not to fear AI but to explore how it can be part of a more dynamic, inclusive, and thoughtful educational experience. It challenged me to reflect on my own biases, to recognize the importance of transparent communication with students, and to design learning that nurtures not just knowledge, but judgment, curiosity, and responsibility.

The scenario presented highlights a common challenge in higher education: encouraging students to move beyond superficial group work and engage in meaningful collaboration. It resonates deeply with my own experiences, where students often divide tasks to reduce workload rather than to build collective knowledge. The distinction between “working in a group” and “working as a group” is particularly striking and central to designing effective collaborative learning environments.

What stands out is the emphasis on learning as a social process. This insight challenges the traditional teacher-centered model and aligns with the idea that the educator’s role is not to provide all the answers, but to facilitate dialogue, interaction, and co-construction of knowledge. The brainstorming notes also acknowledge the diversity of learners — introverts and extroverts, fast and slower learners — and the importance of creating inclusive, flexible, and psychologically safe spaces that allow all students to contribute meaningfully.

The document wisely raises the importance of mentorship and facilitation in collaborative settings. Students often lack the meta-skills required for effective teamwork, especially in asynchronous or online formats. Facilitators play a key role in shaping group dynamics and ensuring that each student not only participates but grows through the collaborative process.

In my own teaching, I’ve noticed that when students feel part of a learning community — rather than just being grouped together — they begin to experience deeper engagement and take ownership of their learning. To achieve this, I find it helpful to integrate reflection moments, peer feedback loops, and shared goals that extend beyond the task at hand.

The notion of “communities of practice” also feels particularly relevant. Whether in student groups or among educators themselves, these communities can cultivate a culture of shared responsibility, mutual learning, and professional growth. As the post-Covid world continues to shape our educational landscapes, rethinking collaboration not as a necessity but as a powerful pedagogical tool is more vital than ever.

The topic of open learning has challenged me to rethink many assumptions I held around knowledge, ownership, and the role of the educator in a digitally connected world. While I’ve always been comfortable with the idea of sharing research — through open-access publications or public talks — extending that openness to my teaching practice feels more vulnerable and complex.

I recognize that sharing teaching materials, such as slides or assignments, is not just about giving access. It’s about letting others into my process, into my intentions as a teacher, and into my professional self. It can feel risky — what if there are mistakes? What if someone misunderstands or misuses the content? What if what I offer isn’t “good enough”? These are real and human concerns that many educators, including myself, wrestle with.

And yet, the deeper we went into this topic, the more I realized that openness is not about perfection — it’s about connection. Sharing is a gesture of trust, and of belief in collective growth. When I offer something openly, I’m not claiming it’s final or flawless — I’m inviting dialogue, improvement, and co-creation. I’m choosing to see education as a social and collaborative process rather than a one-way transfer of knowledge.

The discussions in our group highlighted the many tensions around open education: institutional limitations, copyright laws, ethical questions, and the ever-present anxiety of losing control over our intellectual work. But at the same time, we kept returning to a central point — the benefits outweigh the risks. Open Educational Resources (OERs), Creative Commons licenses, collaborative platforms — these are tools that allow us to not only share knowledge, but also democratize it. They allow a student in a remote corner of the world to access insights, tools, and practices that they might never encounter otherwise. They allow teachers like me to benefit from the wisdom and creativity of others, especially when time and resources are limited.

What has helped me shift perspective is the idea that sharing doesn’t have to be all or nothing. We can decide what, when, and with whom we share. We can choose a level of openness that feels safe and manageable, and we can always adjust over time. Creative Commons licensing gives us this flexibility — to protect our work while also inviting meaningful reuse.

Perhaps what resonated most with me is the recognition that openness is also a mindset. It’s not only about uploading materials online — it’s about being transparent with our students, about being willing to say “I don’t have all the answers,” and about modeling collaborative and generous academic behavior. If we want our students to learn from one another, to think critically, and to engage deeply, we have to embody those values ourselves.

Moving forward, I want to be more intentional about sharing. I will start with small steps: revising my course materials to ensure clarity and usefulness, adding appropriate licenses, and perhaps sharing selected teaching resources with colleagues and networks. I also want to create space for my students to share — their insights, questions, and even co-create content where possible. Learning should not be a solitary or closed process; it should be open, evolving, and rooted in trust.

Openness, at its core, is an act of generosity. And I believe that as educators, our greatest strength lies not in how much we know, but in how much we’re willing to give.

Engaging with Topic 1 has brought to the surface many thoughts and emotions about my relationship with the digital world — both as an educator and as a private individual. One of the things that struck me the most is how easy it is to feel “behind” or less competent when entering new online environments, especially when surrounded (virtually) by others who seem to navigate them effortlessly. The scenario described in the FISh document resonated deeply with me: the initial hesitation, the fear of judgment, and the discomfort of being “visible” in unfamiliar online spaces are feelings I’ve experienced myself.

Reflecting on my own digital presence, I realize I am both a visitor and a resident, depending on the space and context. I tend to keep my personal digital life relatively private, avoiding frequent posts or oversharing. I value privacy and boundaries. However, professionally, I feel a growing pressure — and also a responsibility — to engage more actively, whether that’s through sharing teaching resources, contributing to academic discussions, or collaborating in online communities.

The distinction between personal and professional online identities is one that I constantly negotiate. Platforms like LinkedIn, ResearchGate, or even institutional LMSs (like Moodle, Canvas, or Teams) feel like “safe” professional spaces where I can contribute and interact with peers. On the other hand, social media such as Facebook or Instagram remain primarily personal — and I am cautious about crossing those lines.

This topic also made me reflect on digital literacies — not just as a technical skillset, but as a broader awareness of how we engage, communicate, and present ourselves in digital environments. For us as educators, the challenge is twofold: we must navigate these literacies ourselves while also supporting our students to do the same. This includes understanding diverse platforms, ensuring inclusive communication, respecting privacy, and building meaningful learning communities online.

I found it particularly interesting how the group reflected on generational assumptions — the idea that younger people are more “digitally fluent” or more eager to share. This is not always the case. In fact, some younger students are very aware of their digital footprint and intentionally limit their exposure. Therefore, as teachers, we cannot assume comfort or competence based on age alone. We must meet learners where they are, offering support and flexibility.

What I take with me from this topic is the importance of authentic digital engagement. Online participation does not have to mean constant activity or visibility — it can also mean mindful presence, thoughtful contributions, and a willingness to listen and learn from others. At the same time, developing digital literacies means not only learning how to use new tools, but also critically understanding the implications of using them — in terms of privacy, power dynamics, and learning potential.

Lastly, I appreciate the encouragement within this course to start small — to reflect “carefully” at first, and gradually build confidence and openness. This gentle approach aligns with how I support my own students: I would never expect full transparency or vulnerability from them immediately. Why should I expect it from myself?

I’m grateful for the opportunity to reflect on these issues within a supportive, international, and interdisciplinary learning community. I look forward to deepening both my technical understanding and my pedagogical strategies as the course progresses.

This is where I will be sharing thoughts, insights, questions, and experiences as I journey through the Open Networked Learning course. I see this space as an opportunity to pause, reflect, and grow — both personally and professionally. I look forward to exploring key concepts such as openness, collaboration, and networked learning, while also learning from others in the ONL community. Let’s see where this shared learning experience takes us!

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