I am messing around with cognitive mapping instruments, stolen with Andrew Asher's blessing from the ERIAL toolkit (I know, I know, I don't need anyone's blessing because hey, that's what toolkits are for! Especially those posted on the web). I am doing this in part because photo diaries, while useful and capable of yielding rich information, are really really time consuming and difficult to get students to do. I am still very much hoping to get back to University College, London, to continue the work I started there in 2011, and when I am there I'd like to use cognitive maps as well as structured interviews and immersive observations to get a sense of how and why various learning spaces are being used by UCL students and faculty.
So, I'm doing some here at UNC Charlotte. At the very least, such an exploratory exercise can give us a sense of what our undergraduate and graduate students' spatial networks look like when they are written down. The data I'm collecting can also begin to serve as a comparative set for the data that I hope to be able to collect in the UK.
I just want to put some of the maps here because I think they are really interesting. I am of course far from the only one doing this--Lesley Gourlay at the IOE and her colleagues have done some mapping exercises, and of course there is the aformentioned ERIAL work, among other ethnographic projects in the US. The students were given 6 minutes to complete each map, and were asked to map all of the places that they go to/inhabit in some way for their academic work. I was specific in saying that the spaces could be on- or off-campus. The maps posted here are undergraduate maps--I have maps from graduate students that we are still processing. In general, undergraduate space maps indicate the need for them to be in places that make it easy for them to get to the other places they need to go to. If they have class in a particular building, they are more likely to study in the Student Union than the library, because the former is closer. If they live away from campus, they might be likely to have off-campus cafes, etc. on their maps as work spaces. The choices they make about where to settle in to study are not made in a vacuum. There is a similar diversity to the spaces they find themselves in, however, in part because undergraduate classes occur in a variety of buildings in different parts of campus, and are not necessarily taught in the building that house their major programs. Graduate student maps (in process) have less diversity of spaces, because they are much more tied to the departmental labs and spaces of their degree programs.
The students worked for 2 minutes in each pen color, beginning with blue, moving to red, and then ending with black. Some students finished before the 6 minute mark, resulting in some maps in just 2 colors (such as #7 shown here).
Showing posts with label workspaces. Show all posts
Showing posts with label workspaces. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Friday, March 8, 2013
Field Trip! NC State Hunt Library and Spaces to Think With.
On Wednesday I visited not just NC State for the first time ever, but I got to have a comprehensive tour of the new James B. Hunt Library. They had an open house yesterday, and the place was full of people who work in libraries (visitors came from all over the region, including out of state) being led around the amazing spaces.
There are pictures of the Hunt library all over the internet--I reproduce mine here not because they are fantastic photos, but because I took pictures of things that help me think about library spaces, and about what is possible in our own spaces at Atkins (which I've been uncharacteristically (for my blog) chatty about recently). It is an objectively spectacular space, and the fact that not everyone has the resources to create such a space should not deter people from going into what NCSU has created, learning from it, and dreaming big. I intend here (and everywhere) not just to think about spaces, but to think with spaces, not just fancy ones like there are at Hunt, but in the more mundane everyday spaces in which our students and faculty find themselves.
I am going to blog here mostly about space, although the tech stuff possible
in the Hunt library is just as cool, and just as worthy of anyone's
attention; for example, the fact that students and faculty now have 3-D
printers at their disposal in the Hunt makerspaces.
The Hunt library is, to my mind, the biggest branch library I have ever seen. It is the library for the new Centennial Campus at State, which means its primary users are in Engineering, Textiles, and other science programs. It is also envisioned as a "second main library" for the entire university, and I will be interested to see what other constituencies use the spaces in that building. They are undeniably attractive.
Color has been used in simple but effective ways to mark places that students need to look for.
Yellow is for Stairs.
Blue is for Elevators.
All people going into and out of the library have to pass by the Ask Us station, which is not just an info point, but an all-services point, where students can go to for reference, technical, and circulation help. In addition, workers can be deployed (via walkie talkie) to parts of the library where people need help (this is apparently very popular for IT type help). Reference specialists can be called from other parts of the building if a question is particularly in-depth. Books that are retrieved by the "Book Bot" are put in this space within five minutes of the request.
And hey, let's talk about that Book Bot.
Entering on the 1st floor of the Hunt Library gives you a great view of the "back" of the automated vertical storage unit, which holds 1.5 million volumes. Books, folios, microfilm, and DVDs (among other things) once requested, can be made available for patrons in 5 minutes (and retrieved from the Ask Us station), or delivered to faculty offices. They are sorted by size, and bar-coded for identification (although they are also RFID-ing each thing that is circulated, with the hope that at least the most circulated things will be RFID-tagged eventually, if not the entire Hunt collection).
This is the "front" of the system, showing one of the robots that retrieves the books, with one of the bins, showing how the books are sorted.
So, yeah, the system is cool, and really makes me think about the future of stacks maintenance, but what I was struck by was what NCSU's library IT has built to make it possible to browse closed shelving (it's currently in Beta).
They call it Virtual Browse, and it's a touch screen that is currently mounted on the 1st floor, before you enter the library proper, between the large windows that give you a view onto the back of the Book Bot.
This allows for browsing the Hunt collection in a way that is simply not physically possible anymore, given that the books are all in the automated storage system, and that it was never possible to look at the physical collection and browse the electronic resources at the same time. The Virtual Browse includes electronic resources as well as physical. This exercise in stacks virtualization, I think, is not just useful for libraries with closed/automated/off-site collections, but for all of us. In my experience, many of our patrons experience our stacks as "closed" even if they are technically open, because they don't know how to navigate or read the stacks. This tool allows them to navigate the stacks and find things even if they don't understand the call number system, even if they aren't exactly sure where in the building those books are. I think I'm more excited about the virtual browser than I am about the book-finding robot.
The collaborative work spaces in open parts of the Hunt library (spread across 3 floors) are colorful and configured in a variety of ways (with very attractive and fancy furniture).
Some booths. This one has a view beyond to the Graduate Reading Room.
Some tables with task chairs, rolling whiteboards, stools.
Some bar-type computer banks.
(the computers were Coming Soon).
And so on.
There are also spaces that evoke the design trope of the reading room, also spread across at least 3 floors of the Hunt Library.

I especially appreciated the simple trick of integrating physical books into spaces for effect. The silent study reading room at one end of the main floor is lined on at least two sides with book shelving.
The rain garden reading room just before that integrates some of the reference collection, faculty book collection, and new books into the furniture arrangements.

What books do here is set expectations, they read "library" to people, and they say, without any signs of any kind , volumes (ha) about where people are once they walk into those spaces. When we start downsizing our physical collections, I think we who work in libraries would do well to think about the other properties of books-- to think carefully about all the different ways that books speak to our communities, beyond the delivery of content.
And here's the thing: we don't have to have all the resources in the world to engage in the kind of thinking that NCSU put into its Hunt Library spaces. I think (to be utterly immodest) that we are trying to do that kind of thing in Atkins at UNCC, right now. Every library should aspire to be: clear about what is where, beautiful in its execution of design, deliberate in providing a variety of spaces, and thoughtful about how and where to deploy appropriate technology, and dedicated to the staffing levels that create seamless access to services and resources. We need to think with the spaces we already have, pay attention to what is trying to be done in those spaces, and imagine beyond what is there now to what could be.
There are pictures of the Hunt library all over the internet--I reproduce mine here not because they are fantastic photos, but because I took pictures of things that help me think about library spaces, and about what is possible in our own spaces at Atkins (which I've been uncharacteristically (for my blog) chatty about recently). It is an objectively spectacular space, and the fact that not everyone has the resources to create such a space should not deter people from going into what NCSU has created, learning from it, and dreaming big. I intend here (and everywhere) not just to think about spaces, but to think with spaces, not just fancy ones like there are at Hunt, but in the more mundane everyday spaces in which our students and faculty find themselves.
| The small 3-D printer that NCSU students can use for prototypes for classes, or just having fun. |
The Hunt library is, to my mind, the biggest branch library I have ever seen. It is the library for the new Centennial Campus at State, which means its primary users are in Engineering, Textiles, and other science programs. It is also envisioned as a "second main library" for the entire university, and I will be interested to see what other constituencies use the spaces in that building. They are undeniably attractive.
Color has been used in simple but effective ways to mark places that students need to look for.
Red is for Asking for Help (as well as the Wolfpack).
All people going into and out of the library have to pass by the Ask Us station, which is not just an info point, but an all-services point, where students can go to for reference, technical, and circulation help. In addition, workers can be deployed (via walkie talkie) to parts of the library where people need help (this is apparently very popular for IT type help). Reference specialists can be called from other parts of the building if a question is particularly in-depth. Books that are retrieved by the "Book Bot" are put in this space within five minutes of the request.
And hey, let's talk about that Book Bot.
Entering on the 1st floor of the Hunt Library gives you a great view of the "back" of the automated vertical storage unit, which holds 1.5 million volumes. Books, folios, microfilm, and DVDs (among other things) once requested, can be made available for patrons in 5 minutes (and retrieved from the Ask Us station), or delivered to faculty offices. They are sorted by size, and bar-coded for identification (although they are also RFID-ing each thing that is circulated, with the hope that at least the most circulated things will be RFID-tagged eventually, if not the entire Hunt collection).
This is the "front" of the system, showing one of the robots that retrieves the books, with one of the bins, showing how the books are sorted.
So, yeah, the system is cool, and really makes me think about the future of stacks maintenance, but what I was struck by was what NCSU's library IT has built to make it possible to browse closed shelving (it's currently in Beta).
They call it Virtual Browse, and it's a touch screen that is currently mounted on the 1st floor, before you enter the library proper, between the large windows that give you a view onto the back of the Book Bot.
This allows for browsing the Hunt collection in a way that is simply not physically possible anymore, given that the books are all in the automated storage system, and that it was never possible to look at the physical collection and browse the electronic resources at the same time. The Virtual Browse includes electronic resources as well as physical. This exercise in stacks virtualization, I think, is not just useful for libraries with closed/automated/off-site collections, but for all of us. In my experience, many of our patrons experience our stacks as "closed" even if they are technically open, because they don't know how to navigate or read the stacks. This tool allows them to navigate the stacks and find things even if they don't understand the call number system, even if they aren't exactly sure where in the building those books are. I think I'm more excited about the virtual browser than I am about the book-finding robot.
The collaborative work spaces in open parts of the Hunt library (spread across 3 floors) are colorful and configured in a variety of ways (with very attractive and fancy furniture).
Some booths. This one has a view beyond to the Graduate Reading Room.
Some tables with task chairs, rolling whiteboards, stools.
Some bar-type computer banks.
(the computers were Coming Soon).
And so on.
There are also spaces that evoke the design trope of the reading room, also spread across at least 3 floors of the Hunt Library.
I especially appreciated the simple trick of integrating physical books into spaces for effect. The silent study reading room at one end of the main floor is lined on at least two sides with book shelving.
The rain garden reading room just before that integrates some of the reference collection, faculty book collection, and new books into the furniture arrangements.
What books do here is set expectations, they read "library" to people, and they say, without any signs of any kind , volumes (ha) about where people are once they walk into those spaces. When we start downsizing our physical collections, I think we who work in libraries would do well to think about the other properties of books-- to think carefully about all the different ways that books speak to our communities, beyond the delivery of content.
And here's the thing: we don't have to have all the resources in the world to engage in the kind of thinking that NCSU put into its Hunt Library spaces. I think (to be utterly immodest) that we are trying to do that kind of thing in Atkins at UNCC, right now. Every library should aspire to be: clear about what is where, beautiful in its execution of design, deliberate in providing a variety of spaces, and thoughtful about how and where to deploy appropriate technology, and dedicated to the staffing levels that create seamless access to services and resources. We need to think with the spaces we already have, pay attention to what is trying to be done in those spaces, and imagine beyond what is there now to what could be.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Guest Blog: Mitchell L. McGregor on groupwork, observing spaces, and the Prequel to our new spaces
Last time I blogged on some of the work my current architecture student, Allison Schaefer, is doing in the new ground floor spaces of Atkins Library. This time you are going to hear from Mitch McGregor, whom I advised last year during his MA (architecture) thesis research. Mitch did his work in our ground floor before it was reconstructed, and the work he did helped inform decisions we made about furniture and technology in our new student spaces. All of Mitch's work was covered by the Atkins Library Ethnography IRB Protocol.
**************************
In one week I spent about 56 hours observing this space,
varying my time of observations from early morning to after midnight. I
observed the screen station was used for every thing from a cell phone charging
station , to practicing power point presentations, to solving physics
equations. The first few days proved to
be difficult, because some things that I as the designer took for granted were
not obvious to new users. For example, I thought it would be obvious how to plug into the screen, but ended up having to make the cords far more obvious than "sleek" designs would allow for.
**************************
I wanted
to find a way to design a space based on research of what inhabitants really
expected from the space. I chose the Atkins Library due to the amount of people
that use its spaces, and the variety of activities done there. My intent was to
observe the activities that were taking place, and to try to understand why certain
group spaces that had been tried in the library were not being very successful.
What was causing these spaces that were equipped with new useful technology to
be overlooked?
After observations and a few low technology experiments in
different parts of the library, I decided to find a specific space that would
be more conducive for group dynamics. I chose the
corridor on the Atkins ground floor connecting the main stair and the coffee shop as the area of study.
![]() |
| Part of the ground floor in Atkins Library, Spring 2012. |
This space had areas that allowed both private and group work mainly due to the type of furniture and arrangement of it. I observed that people wanting to be alone would come and sit at the long tables between each "bay" with a whiteboard, couch, coffee table, and soft chairs. This “living room” arrangement of furniture facing white boards promoted group use of the space. The space was adjacent to
a busy travel corridor, and people working there seemed comfortable
communicating aloud to group members. During my observations, I sketched diagrams to analyze the types of
activities that were happening in this space. Here are some examples of the cleaned-up drawings (created in Adobe Illustrator):
![]() |
| Here one student is taking notes on the couch, referring to material on the laptop, while the other sketches out thoughts on the whiteboard. |
![]() |
| The student at the long table is referring to a textbook and laptop while the other uses the whiteboard to think through the reference materials. |
My goal was to understand what people were already coming to this space to do.
Rather than recreate the space with a new type of activity in mind, I wanted to think about redesigning the space to enhance the current use. I observed the space for about 12 hours, and found that I groups were coming to this space for a few main
reasons. One was that groups would come to the space to work on
problems or brainstorm, often using the whiteboard while referring to a book or
laptop. This often became difficult
because there was no place to put books or laptops that was adjacent to the
white board. Other groups used the space to work on group presentations,
by sitting in the couch area and working from one or multiple laptops,
discussing a group project. I then derived scenarios for additional activities that could happen in this space if
certain amenities were added. I thought the space
could benefit from a large screen adjacent to the whiteboard that students could
hook up their laptops to. To allow for multiple uses, I decided the screen should
be able to be connected to while near the whiteboard, as well from sitting in
the sitting area facing the screen. I chose this arrangement:
As I worked through these issues and tried to make the installation more user friendly, I also conducted several interviews. I asked users of different varieties what they
liked and disliked about the space and what could be improved. Most students
said they really liked how they could move things around in the space, such as
the furniture or where they connected to the screen. The space met their basic
needs, yet was manipulable to specific groups’ needs. The more flexible spaces can be the more apt
people are to use them.
This process showed that with research into what a space is
currently used for, and how those current uses can be enhanced proves much more
efficient than just creating a space and intending for specific activities to
take place there. Students wanted a semi-private space that they could
adapt to various types of group work. The possibility of multiple types
of media showing information at the same time, in this case, whiteboard and media screen,
allows the group to function even more efficiently. Students also want this
technology to be easy to use; if the technology in this space takes too much of
a learning curve it is possible that students will avoid it. Overall, a research-based process allows designers and educators to greatly increase the success and efficiency of a space.
Looking at the new spaces now, a year since the original
research started, it is great to see how the new spaces have implemented some of
the discoveries of the research. The new spaces that have both white boards and
media screens where students can connect allow for the group collaboration and
efficiency. The type of furniture and
dividers being used also give the students power over the space they are
working in.
**************************************************
I would add to what Mitch has written here that while his research was just part of the information we compiled and responded to in thinking about and designing the new ground floor, it was a crucial part. Because it was grounded in the actual behavior of our students, we could use this work to think through ahead of time the details that demanded our attention.
_______________
McGregor, Mitchell L. Principles of Space and Interaction (unpublished M.A. thesis) Department of Architecture, University of North Carolina, Charlotte, NC.
_______________
McGregor, Mitchell L. Principles of Space and Interaction (unpublished M.A. thesis) Department of Architecture, University of North Carolina, Charlotte, NC.
Friday, February 22, 2013
New Learning Spaces and the role of Ongoing Research
This is going to be one in a series of posts, because I've got fun maps to share, and if I share them all at once, the post will be entirely tl;dr (if it isn't already...)
Atkins Library recently renovated our "basement," that is, we took space that had been inhabited by staff doing the work of the library, gutted it (having found new places for our staff to work in), and turned it into an array of spaces in which students can do collaborative work. Here is what it looked like before there were people in it (photos by Cheryl Lansford, Interior Designer for UNC Charlotte):
This is a view into one of our new group study rooms, with tables that are wheeled as well as wheeled task chairs. Surfaces near the digital screens allow students to share from their laptops, and there is also a dedicated computer for them to work from if they do not have their own device with them. Whiteboards and the glass walls are meant to be written on (and are).
The space just outside of the library cafe has been set up to be more cafe-type seating, but with larger low tables, to accommodate the need to spread out with laptops, books, notebooks, and even more than one person's "stuff" that they are working with. There are outlets in the wood-paneled pillars, to allow for student to plug in wherever they want to work.
The most configurable part of the open space (that is, the space not contained in the study rooms), has more of the wheeled tables and task chairs, as well as some soft seating (relatively lightweight, so it can be moved around), rolling whiteboards, and movable privacy screens.
I think it's all pretty cool. Our students seem pretty happy with it so far. We had a fancy grand opening for the space, and are grateful to all of the work that went into the design and building of it. Some of the work was done by me, and students under my supervision, in the form of studying the kinds of behaviors that go into collaborative work, and thinking experimentally about how to reveal the best configuration of space and technology to facilitate effective student learning.
In many learning space design scenarios, the opening is the ending. Universities continue to build new spaces, open them, and then walk away without thinking about what comes next. What did they get right about the new spaces? What did we get wrong? How can we improve it? When can we make changes?
I wonder sometimes if there is a fear of looking bad, somehow, if one goes in and makes changes to brand new spaces. As if the planning wasn't good enough, and that's why we need to change things so soon after the opening. I hope that is not the case, because we are already looking at the new spaces and thinking about things we need to change, to better respond to how people are actually using the space, rather than assuming that they are using the space as we imagined they would.
Sometimes, people just do their own thing.
To that end, I am enlisting the help of my graduate assistants this semester, Allison Schaefer (an MA student in Architecture), and Carrie Vass (an MA student in Communications), to systematically observe what is going on in our new spaces, and report back. At this early point in the semester (the spaces have only been officially open since January 23rd), we already have several days' worth of observations, and some nice visualizations of that observation data. We are interested not just in how people are using the spaces and the furniture
Allison created maps of our ground floor using Revit, and then added color for movement or activity using Adobe Photoshop and Illustrator. She mapped the kinds of activities people were doing, and also where people walked when they moved through the space, over the course of her observations. First up: the activity maps.
These maps are beautiful and informative, and of course are only part of the picture. Next post, I will talk about the maps Allison created that show how the density of occupation varies, as well as length of stay, and the maps that show circulation patterns through the space. I will also have pictures of what the spaces look like when they are occupied!
Atkins Library recently renovated our "basement," that is, we took space that had been inhabited by staff doing the work of the library, gutted it (having found new places for our staff to work in), and turned it into an array of spaces in which students can do collaborative work. Here is what it looked like before there were people in it (photos by Cheryl Lansford, Interior Designer for UNC Charlotte):
We have created
configurable furniture arrangements in some areas, and more fixed
arrangements in others. This picture shows the T1 touch screen tables
(which also have screens at the head of the table, so students can plug
in and share from their laptops.
I think it's all pretty cool. Our students seem pretty happy with it so far. We had a fancy grand opening for the space, and are grateful to all of the work that went into the design and building of it. Some of the work was done by me, and students under my supervision, in the form of studying the kinds of behaviors that go into collaborative work, and thinking experimentally about how to reveal the best configuration of space and technology to facilitate effective student learning.
In many learning space design scenarios, the opening is the ending. Universities continue to build new spaces, open them, and then walk away without thinking about what comes next. What did they get right about the new spaces? What did we get wrong? How can we improve it? When can we make changes?
I wonder sometimes if there is a fear of looking bad, somehow, if one goes in and makes changes to brand new spaces. As if the planning wasn't good enough, and that's why we need to change things so soon after the opening. I hope that is not the case, because we are already looking at the new spaces and thinking about things we need to change, to better respond to how people are actually using the space, rather than assuming that they are using the space as we imagined they would.
Sometimes, people just do their own thing.
To that end, I am enlisting the help of my graduate assistants this semester, Allison Schaefer (an MA student in Architecture), and Carrie Vass (an MA student in Communications), to systematically observe what is going on in our new spaces, and report back. At this early point in the semester (the spaces have only been officially open since January 23rd), we already have several days' worth of observations, and some nice visualizations of that observation data. We are interested not just in how people are using the spaces and the furniture
Allison created maps of our ground floor using Revit, and then added color for movement or activity using Adobe Photoshop and Illustrator. She mapped the kinds of activities people were doing, and also where people walked when they moved through the space, over the course of her observations. First up: the activity maps.
![]() |
| This is where studying is happening in the new space. All over. |
![]() |
| This is where talking in happening in the space. Also, all over. |
![]() |
| Can you study and talk at the same time? Our students can and do. While some areas clearly show one thing or the other happening, the overlap is significant. |
![]() |
| Just because students have a laptop open does not mean they are studying. Likewise, just because they don't have a laptop, doesn't mean they are not studying. |
These maps are beautiful and informative, and of course are only part of the picture. Next post, I will talk about the maps Allison created that show how the density of occupation varies, as well as length of stay, and the maps that show circulation patterns through the space. I will also have pictures of what the spaces look like when they are occupied!
Monday, May 21, 2012
Space Hacking and Student Engagement
| Outside learning spaces at UNC Charlotte. |
Calling something like a classroom a "learning space" implies that they are also "teaching spaces"--the direction of that teaching has traditionally been from professor to student, but increasingly we are asking students to teach each other, and occasionally to teach us about the materials we wish them to be engaged with. Classrooms in university environments are frequently locked into particular configurations, especially the auditorium-style rooms with bolted-down chairs, immovable tables, and a very fixed focal point at the front of the room. The room we were in during the panel (in the Center for Teaching and Learning in the E.H. Little Library at Davidson College) was very configurable, with desk-height tables on wheels, comfortable task chairs, and whiteboards along the entire perimeter of the room. It still had a smart podium at one end of the room, requiring whoever was needing to present materials to treat that side of the room as the "front" (there was also a smartboard there). It was also, apparently, not a terribly typical learning space at Davidson (though it was a very in-demand space!).
During the panel and after I was thinking about Atkins library spaces, and the changes we've already made that have resulted in big differences in student engagement in learning spaces. For example, my colleague Heather McCullough, the head of our Digital Scholarship Lab, came across a group of students studying in our ground floor collaborative spaces during finals week. There was one student at a whiteboard, outlining principles of Economics, being listened to by a group of his classmates. The student's classmates asked him,"how do you know this stuff??" He told them, "I did the practice problems in the back of the textbook." And his classmates said, "Can you tell us how to do that?" And so he did. They were not doing this in a classroom, they were doing this in the library, sitting on couches and comfortable chairs, facing a whiteboard, feet up on the glass coffee table they were circled around.
| Students teaching each other during finals week 2012 |
Now, faculty can choose to despair at the image of students at the end of the semester just figuring out the utility of the practice problems in the back of the textbook. Or, they can choose (as I do) to be struck by the tableau of students teaching students not just the course material, but techniques for success in class, techniques that they can then take out of the current class they are enrolled in and apply to future situations. Student engagement is happening in the library--they are engaged with their course materials, they are engaged with each other (and not just in a social way), they are engaged with the stuff of intellectual work, one of the most important reasons for them to come to university.
![]() |
| These students stacked tables to make the furniture work better for them |
I've been trying to think about space in the library here at UNCC in terms of a concepts I've borrowed from my colleagues: in environmental psychology, "behavior settings", from architecture, "affordances," and from my own field, anthropology, the idea of "places" as cultural constructs. "Behavior settings" refer to the cluster of assumptions that particular environments suggest to people upon entering the space (think of those velvet ropes that lead up to service desks--we know we're being set up to wait in line). "Affordance" is a related concept (also used by people in Human-Computer Interaction), describing the range of possible activities/functions suggested by a particular space/piece of furniture/object. For example, a chair suggests a limited range of options (sitting), where a staircase wide enough to accommodate seating as well as walking (as in this example at the Sanford School of Public Policy at Duke) can suggest a larger set of possibilities (sitting, walking, meeting, talking, etc). Anthropologists approach "place" as the set of cultural meanings that are imposed by people onto physical spaces. I think it's useful to keep all three of these concepts in mind when contemplating creating spaces that meet the needs of both students and their instructors, at universities and elsewhere.
With our reconfiguration of our ground floor spaces (and I swear, we're going to start reconfiguring other spaces as soon as we have the resources to do so!), we have been consistently paying attention to what students were trying to do, both on the ground floor as well as in other parts of the library. We saw them trying to work in pairs or threes at traditional library carrels, we saw how overbooked our group study rooms were, we saw the syllabi requiring that students work in groups as a part of their coursework. Those observations helped inform the decisions we made to dedicate most of the ground floor to collaborative work spaces.
In the same vein, paying attention to what faculty are trying to do when they are teaching should inform classroom design. Faculty are already (as evidenced by the roomful of concerned professionals at THATCamp Piedmont) thinking about novel ways to reach their students in the classroom. They should be partners with classroom support and facilities departments on campuses in planning classroom spaces, and experimenting with operationalizing those ideas with the help of different furniture, digital tools, and open minds. I know that some faculty (I'm thinking of @georgeonline here) are already doing this at their respective institutions.
What's happening on your campus to transform learning and teaching spaces? What works and what doesn't?
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose
Thanks to the generosity (via Twitter) of my colleague Andrew Asher (@aasher), I was alerted to the existence of Pierre Bourdieu's 1965 ethnography of French undergraduate university student behavior, Academic Discourses, including an essay entitled, "The Users of Lille University Library" (co-authored with Monique de Saint Martin). In 1964, over 800 questionnaires were distributed to and filled out by students "from the sociology group in the Faculty of Arts at Lilles (p.132)," and the answers were then tallied and analyzed by Bordieu and his co-author.
What is most amazing to me (after the discovery that library ethnography has its roots not just in design ethnography, but also in the work of such a practitioner as Bourdieu!) is that the concerns expressed about undergraduate academic behavior appear to have changed not at all, not after over 40 years have passed, not in the transition from French academia to that of the US. Bourdieu and his colleague asked questions about where the students lived, whether or not they were employed, where they prefer to study, what their favorite part of the library is--all of these questions are familiar to those of us doing library ethnography today. He worries about their lack of attention to librarians: "Students reject working through a librarian, rarely asking for assistance. 'It is very difficult,' a librarian says; 'there is a door to go through, they don't know, they dare not.' (p.132)"
He says that students don't work in the library, because it does not suit their needs: "Students in their great majority do nothing at the Library which they cannot do as well or better at home because, by unanimous consent, the Library is an unfavourable site for scholarly reflection (p.123)" He goes on to say that "...most users of the Library only appear to be working rather than actually getting anything done (p.123)." He does acknowledge that "students ...seem to want something from the Library which they cannot find at home, whether this is the real or imaginary encouragement to study induced by the 'atmosphere' of the Library or the psychological gratifications of contact with their peers, known or unknown, or a vague expectation of making these contacts (p.123)."
Bourdieu points out (with not a little dismay, I think) that "students misrecognize the particular function of the Library and more often treat it as a meeting-place or at best a study area. (p.123)."
He says that like it's a bad thing.
The work of academia that Bourdieu clearly hoped to see in the Library (reading, thinking) was actually, according to students, being done in spaces such as cafes, bedrooms, even on walks, "in circumstances where other, non-studious activities can be fit in (124)."
There are some interesting gendered observations he makes at the end--young women at the university saw the Library as a "beehive," whose activity both fostered and also got in the way of their getting work done, while men saw it as more of a "monastary," quiet and occasionally oppressively quiet. Those differing views of the library are no longer easily assigned to particular gender identities, but do represent different poles of perspective on problematic spaces in the library.
In short, Bourdieu was confronted with students who were uncomfortable working in the library, who preferred to do their academic work where they were comfortable. The students went to the library if their professors insisted (frequently to check out or refer to a book). Their presence in the library had as much social as it did academic purpose. Some students who did go to the library got things done, but also struggled to achieve balance between academic work and leisure time.
We have worked hard at UNC Charlotte to make the library a welcoming space that meets a wide variety of student needs, but there is still much work to be done. Anxieties about whether or not students are getting to all of the resources they need to be successful also persist.
On the face of it, we are still grappling with much the same issues that Bourdieu and his colleagues described in the mid-1960s.
Bourdieu, P. (1994[1964]). Academic discourse: Linguistic misunderstanding and professorial power. Stanford, Calif: Stanford Univ. Press.
What is most amazing to me (after the discovery that library ethnography has its roots not just in design ethnography, but also in the work of such a practitioner as Bourdieu!) is that the concerns expressed about undergraduate academic behavior appear to have changed not at all, not after over 40 years have passed, not in the transition from French academia to that of the US. Bourdieu and his colleague asked questions about where the students lived, whether or not they were employed, where they prefer to study, what their favorite part of the library is--all of these questions are familiar to those of us doing library ethnography today. He worries about their lack of attention to librarians: "Students reject working through a librarian, rarely asking for assistance. 'It is very difficult,' a librarian says; 'there is a door to go through, they don't know, they dare not.' (p.132)"
He says that students don't work in the library, because it does not suit their needs: "Students in their great majority do nothing at the Library which they cannot do as well or better at home because, by unanimous consent, the Library is an unfavourable site for scholarly reflection (p.123)" He goes on to say that "...most users of the Library only appear to be working rather than actually getting anything done (p.123)." He does acknowledge that "students ...seem to want something from the Library which they cannot find at home, whether this is the real or imaginary encouragement to study induced by the 'atmosphere' of the Library or the psychological gratifications of contact with their peers, known or unknown, or a vague expectation of making these contacts (p.123)."
Bourdieu points out (with not a little dismay, I think) that "students misrecognize the particular function of the Library and more often treat it as a meeting-place or at best a study area. (p.123)."
He says that like it's a bad thing.
The work of academia that Bourdieu clearly hoped to see in the Library (reading, thinking) was actually, according to students, being done in spaces such as cafes, bedrooms, even on walks, "in circumstances where other, non-studious activities can be fit in (124)."
There are some interesting gendered observations he makes at the end--young women at the university saw the Library as a "beehive," whose activity both fostered and also got in the way of their getting work done, while men saw it as more of a "monastary," quiet and occasionally oppressively quiet. Those differing views of the library are no longer easily assigned to particular gender identities, but do represent different poles of perspective on problematic spaces in the library.
In short, Bourdieu was confronted with students who were uncomfortable working in the library, who preferred to do their academic work where they were comfortable. The students went to the library if their professors insisted (frequently to check out or refer to a book). Their presence in the library had as much social as it did academic purpose. Some students who did go to the library got things done, but also struggled to achieve balance between academic work and leisure time.
We have worked hard at UNC Charlotte to make the library a welcoming space that meets a wide variety of student needs, but there is still much work to be done. Anxieties about whether or not students are getting to all of the resources they need to be successful also persist.
On the face of it, we are still grappling with much the same issues that Bourdieu and his colleagues described in the mid-1960s.
Bourdieu, P. (1994[1964]). Academic discourse: Linguistic misunderstanding and professorial power. Stanford, Calif: Stanford Univ. Press.
Thursday, May 3, 2012
The ephemera of academic work.
Last week I went to hear Mary Flanagan speak about play, creativity, games, and how to think about social change in the context of game design and production. And this weekend, I'll be attending another THATCamp, this one THATCamp Piedmont, at Davidson College just up the road. The prospect of going to another unconference, the content of Flanagan's talk, plus the recent experience of opening our new north entrance spaces at Atkins library, have been making me think a great deal (even if I haven't been blogging that amount) about the material nature of our thought processes--or, frequently, the lack thereof.
What I mean is, there are times when students walk into the library with nothing in their hands but ideas in their heads, with a need to share those ideas (and get inspired by new ones) with colleagues. The physical environment they need for idea sharing is one that we've provided in the library: furniture near whiteboards.
They can sit on couches, chairs, or at tables, and either use the whiteboards we've provided that can be moved around, or settle in spaces where you can write on the walls. Sometimes (many times) they bring laptops in with them, sometimes they bring books and notes with them. They work in groups, or they work alone.
Sometimes, what they write on the whiteboards needs to go with them when they leave--if they are sketching out a work plan for a group project, if they are outlining a rough draft for a paper, if they are taking a problem set and solutions home. They often take pictures of the whiteboard (and the information they intend to curate) with their smartphones. This (on the right) is a good example of an elaborate study guide, using not just a whiteboard but also post-its. This diagram of the heart stayed on this whiteboard for several days during final exams last semester. We are actually thinking hard about what it would look like to have smart whiteboards, that could allow for the saving and sending of the stuff that students write down.
Sometimes, what they write on the whiteboards is not the important product of the study session. When they need whiteboards to help them think, when the product is greater understanding that they can take with them in immaterial ways, there is no need to save the ephemera of their academic work. What they write down will not be transformed immediately into another thing, does not need to be curated in the same way that a rough draft or a presentation outline would be. We don't need to always assume that they need to take it with them
The hard part is that we in the library don't know which kind of work a student is engaging in at any given time--that's why it is terribly important to build flexible spaces, that allow for patrons to have real choices about the work they need to do.
It is in thinking about the ephemera of academic work that I was confronted by a design flaw in our new T1 Vision tables, in our north entrance study spaces. These tables (shows upper left) have a touch-screen embedded in the table that can be divided into four, as well as a large sharing screen on the adjacent partition. The large screen for sharing is only activated when a device is plugged in (or, in only a few cases in the touch-table applications). So, in this photo, the student has plugged in her laptop, and what is on the laptop is shown large on the screen for her study partners to see. If one of her study partners found something while browsing the web on the touch-table that she wanted to share, that's currently not possible. And that does not fit with the way students work--they need to be able to share and think about things that come up during the session, not just what they have with them when they arrive at the library. The T1 tables dole out sharing capability as if the stuff that is savable/curatable is more worth sharing than the ephemera, and that is not true.
Sometimes, academic work does not produce a material artifact. Sometimes, play does not take place in a score-keeping game, sometimes, play is open-ended, sometimes there are no winners or losers. But thinking is important, creativity is important, and it's crucial for the library to produce and equip spaces that don't just allow our students to write papers and pass exams, but also for them to think, to share ideas, to brainstorm, to bounce ridiculous notions off of each other that may go nowhere.
That's a "knowledge cloud," according to the student who drew that. Thanks, Daniel W.
What I mean is, there are times when students walk into the library with nothing in their hands but ideas in their heads, with a need to share those ideas (and get inspired by new ones) with colleagues. The physical environment they need for idea sharing is one that we've provided in the library: furniture near whiteboards.
They can sit on couches, chairs, or at tables, and either use the whiteboards we've provided that can be moved around, or settle in spaces where you can write on the walls. Sometimes (many times) they bring laptops in with them, sometimes they bring books and notes with them. They work in groups, or they work alone.
Sometimes, what they write on the whiteboards needs to go with them when they leave--if they are sketching out a work plan for a group project, if they are outlining a rough draft for a paper, if they are taking a problem set and solutions home. They often take pictures of the whiteboard (and the information they intend to curate) with their smartphones. This (on the right) is a good example of an elaborate study guide, using not just a whiteboard but also post-its. This diagram of the heart stayed on this whiteboard for several days during final exams last semester. We are actually thinking hard about what it would look like to have smart whiteboards, that could allow for the saving and sending of the stuff that students write down.
The hard part is that we in the library don't know which kind of work a student is engaging in at any given time--that's why it is terribly important to build flexible spaces, that allow for patrons to have real choices about the work they need to do.
It is in thinking about the ephemera of academic work that I was confronted by a design flaw in our new T1 Vision tables, in our north entrance study spaces. These tables (shows upper left) have a touch-screen embedded in the table that can be divided into four, as well as a large sharing screen on the adjacent partition. The large screen for sharing is only activated when a device is plugged in (or, in only a few cases in the touch-table applications). So, in this photo, the student has plugged in her laptop, and what is on the laptop is shown large on the screen for her study partners to see. If one of her study partners found something while browsing the web on the touch-table that she wanted to share, that's currently not possible. And that does not fit with the way students work--they need to be able to share and think about things that come up during the session, not just what they have with them when they arrive at the library. The T1 tables dole out sharing capability as if the stuff that is savable/curatable is more worth sharing than the ephemera, and that is not true.
Sometimes, academic work does not produce a material artifact. Sometimes, play does not take place in a score-keeping game, sometimes, play is open-ended, sometimes there are no winners or losers. But thinking is important, creativity is important, and it's crucial for the library to produce and equip spaces that don't just allow our students to write papers and pass exams, but also for them to think, to share ideas, to brainstorm, to bounce ridiculous notions off of each other that may go nowhere.
Friday, July 1, 2011
New York Public Library and Thinking about Workspaces
I had the great good fortune to spend a few days in New York City this past week, and managed to stop in to the NY Public Library for a little while.
My kids told me it felt like a museum, but to me it feels like a cathedral dedicated to books. All that marble, all of that art, all of that lovely architecture, surrounding a collection and a space for accessing that collection.
And not just the collection, but also the internet (and the informative places therein)--so, it's a cathedral to information, really. A place for you to find what you need, and also to get help if you need it. Heady stuff for academics. And for non-academics who love information. ("Information: it's not just for books anymore.")
Photos are only permitted in the Catalog section of the Reading Room. The other half of the Reading Room looks very similar, except there are not desktop/catalog computers in that space. People in that part of the reading room were working on laptops if they were working on computers.
The Catalog Reading Room looks like this:
It is a beautifully appointed room, with brass lamps at strategic places at the long wooden tables, so that when the natural light that streams through the windows is unavailable, people can still work.
The lamps also delineate the tables as workspaces for multiple people.
There were people working singly, but also in pairs:
The walls are lined not just with marble, but also with books. The further back you go into the room from the information desk, the less desktop computers/internet terminals there are. People seemed fairly evenly distributed throughout the space until I got to this point:
The sign says this:

I was particularly struck by the lack of people at these tables. I wondered if it was because this was the catalog room, and people needed to be closer to the catalog computers. But then I went into the other half of the Reading Room, and found the same situation: a sparsely populated laptop free zone.
Further investigation in the building, not far away, revealed this:
This room is not as big as the Reading Room, but it's pretty nice, for a room that's not the Heart of the NYC Public Library.
But I really can't figure out the logic of separating out people who work on laptops from the rest of the people who are working in the Reading Room. It feels archaic, like "no click zones" are now. I didn't have time to interview anyone who worked at the library about it, so they may well have their reasons, but it felt like an unnecessary segregation to me.
Of course, the NYC Public Library has lots of space, and clearly can provide lovely space that is separate for its laptop users (a luxury we, and many other public university libraries, simply do not now and never will have). But check out the ceiling of the laptop room:
and contrast it with the one in the Reading Room.
In a cathedral to books, I know which space I'd rather be working in, laptop or no.
My kids told me it felt like a museum, but to me it feels like a cathedral dedicated to books. All that marble, all of that art, all of that lovely architecture, surrounding a collection and a space for accessing that collection.
And not just the collection, but also the internet (and the informative places therein)--so, it's a cathedral to information, really. A place for you to find what you need, and also to get help if you need it. Heady stuff for academics. And for non-academics who love information. ("Information: it's not just for books anymore.")
Photos are only permitted in the Catalog section of the Reading Room. The other half of the Reading Room looks very similar, except there are not desktop/catalog computers in that space. People in that part of the reading room were working on laptops if they were working on computers.
The Catalog Reading Room looks like this:
It is a beautifully appointed room, with brass lamps at strategic places at the long wooden tables, so that when the natural light that streams through the windows is unavailable, people can still work.
The lamps also delineate the tables as workspaces for multiple people.
There were people working singly, but also in pairs:
The walls are lined not just with marble, but also with books. The further back you go into the room from the information desk, the less desktop computers/internet terminals there are. People seemed fairly evenly distributed throughout the space until I got to this point:
The sign says this:

I was particularly struck by the lack of people at these tables. I wondered if it was because this was the catalog room, and people needed to be closer to the catalog computers. But then I went into the other half of the Reading Room, and found the same situation: a sparsely populated laptop free zone.
Further investigation in the building, not far away, revealed this:
But I really can't figure out the logic of separating out people who work on laptops from the rest of the people who are working in the Reading Room. It feels archaic, like "no click zones" are now. I didn't have time to interview anyone who worked at the library about it, so they may well have their reasons, but it felt like an unnecessary segregation to me.
Of course, the NYC Public Library has lots of space, and clearly can provide lovely space that is separate for its laptop users (a luxury we, and many other public university libraries, simply do not now and never will have). But check out the ceiling of the laptop room:
and contrast it with the one in the Reading Room.
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