Lag time

Lag Time

In the morning, I’m the “Fireman.” After ten to twelve hours of not checking my email or my online classes, I’ve learned to carry a bucket of water with me when I first logon and check my mail.

“Mr. Jackson, I can’t seem to post my assignment in the discussion.”

“Mr. Jackson, my hard drive crashed and I’ve lost all my work on the term paper that’s due next week.”

“Mr. Jackson, I had to go to the ER last night ‘cause I fainted. I’m ok now, but I wanted you to know why I didn’t turn in my work last night.”

There are still twenty more messages to go…

I reach for the bucket, dip my hand in and splash a little water on my face. Time to get up, get another cup of coffee (it’s been perked and ready for me when I got up---thank goodness for coffee makers with timers!), a banana, and some peanut butter. These will be my breakfast for the next hour or two.

I start in---Not all of the emails are emergencies. Some are legitimate questions about assignments and due dates. Some really make my day: “Mr. Jackson, please bare with me. I’m having trouble getting started, and I’m hoping you can help me.” Now, I have several stock answers for this typo, but I usually hold off for a while---I want to keep that image in my mind while I deal with the other “fires.”

All of us who teach online and try to keep a regular schedule know about this “lag time.” It doesn’t matter if that’s all you do, or have another job and teach online part-time to supplement, you know there’s got to be time when you have a “normal” life away from the computer. However, that time away from leads to most of the work that we have. Sometimes it’s not a bad thing---most of the teaching that’s goes on in an online class is those moments when you’re one-on-one with a student.

Of course, you hope that the lectures, videos, podcasts, links, and other materials that you’ve posted for you class will do all the work for you.  That might happen in a perfect world, but we know nothing’s perfect, especially on the Internet. In the real world, you spend your time on the computer “talking” to your students in discussion or emails. In some of my classes I have virtually talked to some, using Skype to hold my “Cyber” office hours.

For those of us who teach only online classes, we’re the ones who don’t shower and change until three or four hours after we’ve been up (if you’re smart, you’ll take an hour and go to the YMCA to work out and shower), do chores around the house so you can get away from the computer a little, and start talking to the dog a “little” too much.

The day goes by, and when 3:00 arrives it’s time to take a long break from your classes. It’s time to go pick up the kids from school, run some errands, and start being a father again. When you’ve been doing this for a while, it gets easier. However, since no one actually sees you working on your classes (you’re home alone, right?), everyone really thinks your life is easy, and you “really” don’t work. It used to bother me, but I’ve learned to live with it.  I have an uncle who worked the graveyard shift for almost thirty years.  He’d go to work after his kids were in bed, be home for breakfast when they got up, go to bed and sleep until it was time for them to come home, and then be there when they were home from school.  When my cousins were once asked what their daddy did for a living, they didn’t know, they said, “Play with us.”

I’m hoping that’s what my kids say when people ask them what I do.

Well, the kids are getting ready for bed, so I take one last look at my emails and classes.  This lag time has only been about five hours, so it’s not as bad as the morning one.  However, I’d hate to think what it would look like in the morning if I didn’t check it at least one more time before I quit being a teacher for the day.