Jennifer Mara DeSilva, Ball State University
Whitney A. M. Leeson, Roanoke College
Barbara Pitkin, Stanford University
Jennifer Mara DeSilva, Ball State University
Whitney A. M. Leeson, Roanoke College
Barbara Pitkin, Stanford University
Early modern history offers a particularly good lens through which to examine the impact of disease on society.
The United States Census Bureau reported that in 2016, 93 percent of people aged fifteen to thirty-four had a smartphone, and that almost 88 percent of them owned a computer with an internet connection.1 Technology is ever evolving and has become a crucial way of communicating and teaching.
The spread of the novel coronavirus forced the closure of university campuses and a shift from classroom to online teaching. This paper1 reflects on my experience taking online my Political Thought and Institutions in the Early Modern Period course, which is for third-year undergraduate history students at the University of Castilla-La Mancha (UCLM), Ciudad Real campus (Spain).
As an instructor, I am an ardent proponent of in-person interaction and the use of printed books, and I have never taught online before the COVID-19 pandemic shifted teaching to fully online platforms in the spring of 2020. Yet in this adjustment, the labor of starting anew, while frustrating at times, granted me the opportunity to experiment and refine pedagogical strategies to foster virtual connection for an upper-level undergraduate seminar on religion and politics in East Asia from the sixteenth to the twentieth centuries.
Covering the Black Death is always a favorite part of teaching a western- or world-history survey course. As a historian of medicine, I spend three or four class periods covering this topic with the goal of students learning how a disease can cause historical change. The first class of the sequence covers the crisis of the fourteenth century, humoral medicine, and ideas of contagion.
Scapegoats have long been accused of being responsible for diseases, epidemics, and famines. Since the emergence and spread of the novel coronavirus, religious leaders and politicians from different religions and countries have blamed LGBTQ people as the cause of the pandemic.
With the coming of the pandemic, my resistance to online teaching came to an end. I had already stepped into the digital world in certain ways, but up to this past March, when my campus administration sent us into lockdown, the core of my teaching had always remained the face-to-face classroom experience. In this article, I aim to discuss my experiences leaving that classroom and entering the online world.
One of the earliest surviving images of a print shop, from Mathias Huss’s 1499 Danse macabre, depicts a compositor, two pressmen, and a bookseller attempting to carry on their trade while Death, embodied as a surprisingly lithe cadaver, dances around, pulling the stationers from their worldly endeavors.1 Ghoulish as it may seem, this image ended up serving as a fitting emblem for how my United States Naval Academy honors English seminar, “Early Modern Media in the Digital Age,” adapted to life (and death) in the era o
As was the case for countless colleagues throughout the world, my pedagogical life was turned upside down by March 2020 directives to cancel in-person classes and conduct classes online for the remainder of the semester. As a self-confessed technological dinosaur, I was particularly horrified, but I found the ensuing experience to contain a number of unexpected bright spots, particularly with regard to teaching Shakespeare’s The Tempest and Milton’s Paradise Lost, both of which I taught in their entirety after my university’s transition to online classes.