Last week, I had an explosive class. Literally. We fled from our on-camera session, escaping the billows of burnt hotdog smelling smoke. Myself and the participants waited outside in the cold contemplating the challenge of seeing ourselves on camera. I overhear a comment from one participant to the other, "It's like hearing your voice played back on a tape recorder. It doesn't even sound like me!" Although slightly intimidating for some, the idea of being able to communicate with students live is an inticing one.
As I browse my favourie home decorating site (yes, that's right, I admit to having a favourite home decorating site) her blogs have now become little videos. Finally, I get a chance to see who this woman is, hear the timbre of her voice, see the items she is discussing. A part of me misses the mystery of only having her words, but the other part of me feels more included and connected. The quality of the "voice" changes somewhat.
Waiting outside on this damp February day, we discovered that the cause of the smoke had been a lit firecracker under a seat in the auditorium next to ours. The professor was giving an exam and it appeared that an unprepared student was getting very creative.
As the smoke cleared I returned to my computer and took another look at the site including the video:
It's worth it, I thought, getting more comfortable with the camera.