Stephen De Lisle's ONL reflections

Reflecting on My Open Networked Learning Journey

Looking back on my time in ONL, I can see a clear progression in my thinking about online and blended learning. At the beginning, the focus was largely on participation: what it means to enter digital learning spaces, how confident we feel using different tools, and what barriers might shape our engagement. However, as the course developed, the question became less about technology itself and more about the kinds of relationships, communities, and learning processes that technology can support. This reflects the broader purpose of Open Networked Learning, which is not simply to teach digital tools, but to help educators experience collaborative, open, and networked learning in practice.

One of the most important insights for me has been that openness is not just about making resources available. It is also about mindset, trust, and participation. Sharing work openly can feel exposing, especially when ideas are still developing, but it can also create opportunities for dialogue, feedback, and connection. In this sense, openness becomes a pedagogical choice: it invites learners to see knowledge as something constructed with others rather than privately produced and submitted. This connects strongly with ONL’s emphasis on peer feedback, reflection, and international collaboration as part of the learning process.

The experience of working in a problem-based learning group also highlighted the value — and complexity — of collaborative learning. Collaboration does not happen automatically simply because people are placed in a group. It needs structure, shared purpose, communication, and a willingness to negotiate different perspectives. At times, this can be challenging, particularly in online settings where time zones, workloads, and communication styles vary. Yet these challenges are also part of the learning. They remind us that meaningful online learning depends on social presence as much as cognitive engagement.

This has influenced how I think about course design. Effective online and blended learning should not be reduced to content delivery or a sequence of digital tasks. Instead, it should create opportunities for learners to interact, question, reflect, and apply ideas. The design of synchronous and asynchronous activities matters here. Live sessions can support immediacy, dialogue, and shared energy, while asynchronous activities can give learners time to think more deeply and participate more flexibly. The challenge is to connect these modes so that they feel like parts of one coherent learning experience.

A recurring issue across these reflections is the role of technology. My view is that technology should enable learning, not drive it. Tools such as discussion boards, shared documents, annotation platforms, polling software, and video meetings can be valuable, but only when they serve a clear pedagogical purpose. The central design question should be: what kind of thinking, interaction, or collaboration do I want to encourage? Once that is clear, the choice of technology becomes more intentional.

The rise of generative AI adds further complexity to these questions. It challenges traditional assumptions about assessment, authorship, and academic integrity. However, it also pushes educators to design more authentic, reflective, and process-oriented learning activities. If students are asked only to produce polished final answers, AI can easily disrupt assessment. But if they are asked to explain their reasoning, document their process, engage in dialogue, and apply ideas to meaningful contexts, then learning becomes more visible.

Overall, these four reflections show a shift in my thinking from online learning as a technical challenge to online learning as a relational and pedagogical practice. The most powerful learning experiences are not necessarily those with the most advanced tools, but those that create space for participation, trust, collaboration, and critical thought. For me, this is one of the key lessons of Open Networked Learning: effective digital education begins not with the platform, but with the learning relationships we design and sustain.  As I go forward in my career, I will strive to keep up to date on technological advances and challenges, while keeping in mind these fundamentals of online group learning that are likely to be more long lasting.

Designing Online Learning for Critical Thought, Not Just Content Delivery

A recurring theme in our group’s discussion is that effective online and blended learning is not simply about moving materials into a digital space. It is about designing learning experiences that help students think, interact, question, and apply ideas. This feels especially important in the context of generative AI, where students can now produce polished outputs quickly, but where the deeper challenge remains: can they analyse, debate, solve problems, and reflect?

There is a valuable distinction between reproducing information and developing critical thought. Critical thinking grows when students are asked to engage in higher-order activities such as problem-based learning, case studies, and inquiry-based tasks, rather than simply consume or repeat content. This connects strongly with the Community of Inquiry framework, particularly the idea of cognitive presence, where meaningful online learning depends on learners constructing understanding through exploration, integration, and reflection.

This also means that course design needs to make space for uncertainty, questioning, and productive struggle. If students are only asked to provide correct answers, they may miss opportunities to develop the habits of mind that support deeper learning. Activities that require students to compare viewpoints, justify decisions, evaluate evidence, or respond to authentic scenarios can help shift the focus from completion to understanding. In this sense, critical thinking is not something added at the end of a course; it needs to be designed into the learning process from the beginning.

What stands out is the emphasis on interaction. Online learning can easily become teacher-led and content-heavy, but we need to remember that effective design requires student–student and student–content interaction. Live polls, breakout discussions, Q&A sessions, and short asynchronous reflections are not just engagement tools; they are ways of making learning visible. They give students opportunities to test ideas, hear other perspectives, and develop confidence in their own reasoning.

Technology, therefore, should be seen as an enabler rather than a replacement for learning. Discussion boards, shared documents, annotation tools such as Perusall, and polling software can support collaboration, feedback, and reflection when they are aligned with clear pedagogical goals. The most effective use of technology is not necessarily the most sophisticated one, but the one that helps students participate more thoughtfully and inclusively. Asynchronous tools are particularly valuable here because they allow time for deeper thinking and can support learners who may need more flexibility.

At the same time, the use of technology needs to be intentional and balanced. More tools do not automatically lead to better learning, and too many platforms can create confusion or cognitive overload for students. A well-designed online course should help learners understand where to go, what to do, how to participate, and why each activity matters. This is especially important in blended learning, where the relationship between synchronous and asynchronous activities needs to feel coherent rather than fragmented.

The notes also highlight the importance of collaboration in blended design. Learning through dialogue and shared problem-solving exposes students to diverse perspectives and encourages accountability. However, collaboration needs structure: clear roles, purposeful tasks, and opportunities for both synchronous discussion and asynchronous reflection. This balance can help create a learning environment that is active, flexible, and intellectually demanding.

Generative AI adds another layer to this discussion. Rather than seeing AI only as a threat to assessment integrity, it may be more useful to ask how assessment can be redesigned so that students must show their thinking. This could include reflective commentaries, process logs, oral explanations, peer feedback, iterative drafts, or tasks connected to real-world problems. These approaches make it harder for learning to be reduced to a final submitted product and easier for teachers to see how students are developing their ideas over time.

Overall, this focus reminds us that the central question in online course design should not be focused only on what technology to use, but rather what kind of thinking do we want students to practise. If we begin with critical thought, interaction, and collaboration, then technology becomes a means of strengthening learning rather than distracting from it. In an AI-rich educational landscape, this shift is essential: assessments and activities must increasingly value the process of thinking, not only the final product.

Beyond Dividing the Work: Using Technology to Foster Social Learning

When students are asked to collaborate, they often default to a familiar pattern: divide the task, work individually, and stitch the pieces together at the end. While efficient, this approach misses the deeper value of collaboration as a social learning process, one that builds shared understanding, trust, and long term collaborative capacity.

Technology can play a powerful role in shifting this dynamic, but only if it is used deliberately. Platforms such as Microsoft Teams, Canvas, Moodle, shared documents, or visual collaboration tools like Miro provide the infrastructure for collaboration, not the collaboration itself. Social learning emerges when these tools are embedded in learning designs that prioritise interaction, dialogue, and co construction of knowledge rather than parallel individual work.

One practical starting point is to use technology to establish social presence early. Low stakes icebreaker activities, including through discussion boards, shared whiteboards, short video introductions, or collaborative polls, help participants move from anonymity to belonging. These early interactions reduce anxiety, encourage equitable participation, and lay the groundwork for peer feedback and mutual support later in the course. Technology here acts as a social bridge, not just a delivery mechanism.

Collaborative tools also make learning visible. Shared documents, version histories, comment threads, and peer review features allow participants to see how ideas evolve over time. When learners are encouraged to comment on, question, and build on each other’s contributions, the focus shifts from asking ho did which part,  to how did our thinking change. This supports a mindset where collaboration is about meaning making, not just output production.

Importantly, technology can support accountability without undermining trust. Peer assessment tools, reflective prompts, and individual contribution logs can help address common concerns about free riding, while still reinforcing the idea that learning is collective. When aligned with clear learning outcomes that explicitly value collaboration skills, such as feedback literacy, perspective taking, and ethical digital participation, technology reinforces, rather than replaces, good pedagogy.

Ultimately, fostering social learning is not about finding the perfect platform. It is about using technologies to create spaces where relationships, dialogue, and shared responsibility can grow. When thoughtfully designed, technology enhanced collaboration helps learners experience the real value of being part of a learning community, an experience that extends well beyond the course itself.

When I first began reflecting on the theme of sharing and openness, I realised that I already felt quite comfortable with openness in one part of academic life: research. Publishing openly, sharing findings, and supporting wider access to knowledge all seem relatively easy to justify. But when the conversation shifts from research to teaching, I notice that my confidence becomes less certain. The idea of making teaching materials openly available sounds admirable in principle, yet in practice it raises questions about ownership, quality, misuse, professional identity, and control. That tension sits at the heart of this topic, and it is what made it so thought-provoking for me.

What struck me most is that openness in teaching is not simply a technical issue of uploading files or applying a licence. It is also an emotional and professional issue. The notes in our group discussion captured this very well: the fear that others might find mistakes, adapt materials in ways that distort their purpose, or judge what was originally designed for a very specific context. Teaching materials are not neutral products; they are often shaped by a particular cohort, institutional setting, learning outcome, and personal teaching style. That makes the act of sharing feel much more personal than sharing a published article. I can relate to that. A slide deck or assessment task often contains traces of how I think, what I prioritise, and the way I try to support learners. Making that open can feel less like offering a resource and more like exposing part of one’s professional self.

At the same time, this topic challenged me to move beyond a defensive view of openness. One of the strongest ideas in the notes is that open should become the default way of creating, sharing, and improving knowledge in education, not only because it reduces cost, but because it supports access, adaptation, transparency, and collaboration. In that sense, openness is not just about being generous; it is about seeing education as a collective and social good rather than a private possession. Instead of asking, “Why should I share my materials?”, perhaps I should be asking, “Why should useful educational resources remain closed if they could benefit others?”

One idea I found especially powerful was the description of open pedagogy as creating information instead of only consuming it. That phrase helped me see how openness can transform not only access to materials, but also the role of the learner. If students are invited to adapt, remix, co-create, and share knowledge, then learning becomes more participatory and more meaningful. In my own practice, I can imagine this leading to richer forms of engagement: students contributing annotated resources, building shared knowledge banks, or creating materials that future learners can use. This would not only support active learning, but also help students see themselves as contributors to a wider learning community. That feels both empowering and more authentic than a model where knowledge flows only one way.

However, I also appreciate that openness is not automatically good just because it is free. One of the most useful distinctions in the notes is that “open” is not the same as “available.” Sharing something informally with a colleague is different from releasing it under an open licence that clearly allows others to retain, reuse, revise, remix, and redistribute it. David Wiley’s 5R framework gives language to this difference, and I think that language matters. Without it, open practice can become vague or even careless. I was also struck by the discussion of “dark reuse”, where materials circulate informally without proper licensing, recognition, or clarity. That is a reminder that openness is not the same as a “pirate culture” of sharing everything without consent or attribution. For openness to work ethically, it needs structure, etiquette, and trust.

This brought me to one of the questions that feels most relevant for my own development: what does good sharing etiquette in teaching look like? In research, we are more familiar with expectations around citation, authorship, reproducibility, and the scholarly record. In teaching, those norms are much less clear. The document notes that barriers to openness are often institutional as much as personal: unclear ownership policies, lack of incentives, limited legal guidance, workload pressures, and insufficient recognition. I found that reassuring in a way, because it suggests that reluctance to share is not simply a matter of individual resistance or selfishness. Sometimes people hold back because the system has not provided clarity or support. That means the solution cannot simply be “be more open.” Instead, institutions need to provide policy, licensing guidance, infrastructure, and professional recognition if openness is going to become sustainable.

This is where I think my own practice can grow. Rather than seeing openness as an all-or-nothing choice, I am beginning to think in terms of “open where appropriate.” That phrase from the notes feels realistic and balanced. Not every teaching artefact should necessarily be shared in the same way. Lecture slides, course design ideas, assessment tasks, and student-generated work all raise different ethical and legal questions. A thoughtful open practice might begin with selected materials that I am comfortable sharing, using clear Creative Commons licensing, checking third-party content carefully, and inviting feedback as part of an ongoing process of improvement. This feels more manageable than imagining that everything must be openly released at once.

Another important reflection for me concerns academic identity. The notes point out that, in many contexts, academics are rewarded for research outputs far more than for the time and labour involved in creating and curating high-quality OER. That observation explains a great deal. If open teaching is valued rhetorically but not recognised professionally, then it is not surprising that many educators hesitate. Sharing takes time. Curation takes time. Adapting materials for open reuse takes time. If institutions genuinely want open practice to become mainstream, then they must treat it as meaningful academic work rather than an optional extra. This made me think more critically about the link between professional development and openness. Perhaps becoming open is not just a personal moral choice; it also depends on whether the culture around us makes that choice viable.

Overall, this topic has pushed me to think of openness less as a simple virtue and more as a practice of careful generosity. It asks educators to share, but also to think ethically about ownership, attribution, context, quality, inclusion, and student benefit. It asks us to move from an individual mindset toward a collective one, without pretending that this shift is easy. For me, the main learning is that openness in teaching is not about losing control entirely. It is about choosing to contribute to a wider educational commons in a way that is thoughtful, supported, and purposeful. If I can begin to approach open practice with that mindset, then I think it has real potential to enrich both my own teaching and my students’ experience of learning

References

1. UNESCO (2019), Recommendation on Open Educational Resources (OER) — Best starting point for definitions, policy framing, and the public-good rationale for open teaching materials.
2. David Wiley, “Defining the “Open” in Open Content and Open Educational Resources” — Clear explanation of the 5Rs and what makes a resource truly open rather than merely free to access.

3.     Otto (2022), “How to Promote the Use of Open Educational Resources (OER) in Higher Education” — Useful on staff attitudes, especially the finding that educators prefer incentive

When I began thinking about online participation and digital literacies, I was struck by how often online learning is framed as a technical issue. At first glance, it can seem as if success in online education is mostly about knowing how to use platforms, navigate tools, and submit work in the right place. But the more I reflected on the topic, the more I realised that online participation is deeply emotional and relational as well. For many learners, the real challenge is not simply learning the tools, but learning how to be present in a digital learning environment without feeling exposed, inadequate, or invisible. That insight resonated strongly with me because it reflects not only the scenario in our course materials, but also experiences I have seen in educational practice.

One of the most important ideas I am taking away from this topic is that students’ hesitation in online spaces is often linked to confidence, identity, and belonging rather than ability. The notes from our group work emphasised that new online learners may feel anxious about public visibility, unfamiliar platforms, and the assumption that everyone else is more competent. That felt particularly significant to me. It is easy to interpret silence online as disengagement, but in reality it may reflect uncertainty or fear of “getting it wrong.” I think this is especially important for educators to remember. If students are reluctant to ask questions, that does not necessarily mean they are not interested; it may mean that they do not yet feel safe enough to participate. Research on online learning and social presence supports this, showing that a strong sense of belonging and instructor immediacy can positively influence participation and satisfaction.

This connects closely to my own practice. I find myself reflecting on how often we design online learning environments with efficiency in mind, but not always with emotional safety in mind. In my own teaching or facilitation, I can use this new understanding to be more intentional about welcoming learners into the space. That might mean normalising uncertainty, explicitly saying that confusion is part of learning, and making room for “small” questions. It might also mean reducing the complexity of the digital environment itself. The notes highlighted that cognitive load in online learning is often intensified by multiple platforms, notifications, and constant task-switching. Rather than seeing attention problems only as a student weakness, I now think more critically about how digital design can either support or drain attention. That feels like an important shift in perspective.

Another idea that really stayed with me was the distinction between being a visitor and a resident online. I find this concept useful because it moves beyond the simplistic idea that someone is either “good” or “bad” with technology. A visitor uses digital spaces in a task-focused and instrumental way, while a resident is more visible, socially present, and identity-expressive in those spaces. In practice, many learners move between these modes depending on context. Reflecting on this made me realise that some students may be highly active online socially, yet still feel hesitant in an academic setting where the stakes feel different. Sharing on Facebook with friends is not the same as posting a reflective blog in an open professional learning network. This reminds me that digital literacy is not only functional competence; it is also about judgement, audience awareness, and confidence in managing one’s online identity.

This issue of identity feels especially relevant today. The notes distinguish between personal identity, professional identity, institutional identity, and data identity, and I found that framework very helpful. It captures something that many learners feel but may not have the language to explain: the discomfort of trying to participate professionally in online spaces without wanting to expose one’s private life. I can relate to that tension. As educators, we often encourage openness and connection, but learners need permission to create boundaries. One practical implication for my own practice is that I would like to support students in building what the notes describe as a “small, purposeful” professional presence — enough to participate meaningfully, but not so much that they feel overexposed. A short biography, a suitable profile image, and reflective posts focused on learning rather than personal disclosure may be enough to begin with. That feels both more ethical and more realistic.

The ethical dimension of digital participation also stood out to me. The course material suggests that digital citizenship is not just about following rules, but about learning to act responsibly, respectfully, and with care in online spaces. I think this is a valuable way of framing digital literacy, because it shifts attention from compliance to moral judgement. In my own context, this has made me reflect on the responsibilities we hold as teachers when asking students to participate online. Are we clear about what is public and what is private? Do students understand the possible permanence of what they post? Are we modelling respectful, thoughtful interaction ourselves? The Council of Europe’s digital citizenship framework is useful here because it links online participation to values, rights, wellbeing, and responsible action rather than technical skill alone.

Overall, this topic has challenged me to think more holistically about what it means to support students online. I no longer see digital literacy simply as a checklist of competencies. Instead, I see it as a combination of identity work, belonging, ethical judgement, confidence, and navigation across complex spaces. In my own practice, this means I want to design online learning environments that are simpler, warmer, and more humane. I want to create spaces where learners can participate gradually, where uncertainty is normal, and where digital presence is something that can be developed with care rather than demanded all at once. If students are to flourish online, they need more than access to tools; they need support in learning how to belong.

References

https://www.coe.int/en/web/education/-/digital-citizenship-education-handbook  

https://learning.northeastern.edu/building-a-sense-of-belonging-and-community-into-an-online-course/  

https://www.apa.org/news/podcasts/speaking-of-psychology/attention-spans  

https://link.springer.com/chapter/10.1007/978-3-031-69362-5_5  

https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s11423-025-10550-6  

https://library.leeds.ac.uk/info/99041/digital-capabilities/235/identity-and-wellbeing/3  

https://er.educause.edu/articles/2021/2/data-privacy-in-higher-education-yes-students-care  

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