My office is located in the suite of offices that comprises Academic Affairs. Recently, visitors from our partner institution in England met with the Vice President, the Deans and Associate Deans, the Director of International Programs, and the Director of our London program. No one poked their head in to say hello, no one introduced me to anyone, and as they all went into the Vice-President's office, they closed the door behind them. It is obvious to me that the Director of Distance Learning should be introduced to our foreign partners, but apparently it is not obvious to anyone else.

I know, from talking to colleagues at other institutions, that my situation is not unique. Much like continuing education at some institutions, distance learning is seen as a discrete program that we can develop separately and incrementally, and it is therefore not integrated into existing structures of shared governance or planning. For this reason, I too am seen as separate from the institution as a whole. I don't think this is intentional--it is simply the result of distance learning's organic growth. But now that our online programs are more mature, it is time to provide our students with real institutional support. It is also time to use distance learning--and instructional technology more generally--as a tactical tool that can be used to address institution-wide issues (such as graduation rates and space).

Perhaps most important, we need to come to terms with the fact that we are at a tipping-point in higher education, one that will lead us to "education 3.0," defined in part as "social networking outside traditional boundaries of discipline, institution, nation," "loose institutional affiliations and relations; [and the] entry of new institutions that provide higher education services."[1] The administrators responsible for distance learning and instructional technology can help the college to evolve and to compete in this radically new and competitive environment.

My position--"Director of Distance Learning"--is in the midst of the painful process of finding a home and a voice within the hierarchies of higher education. I and many of my colleagues are expected to increase the size of our distance learning programs, work with faculty on instructional design, support students who still have to deal with clumsy paper-based registration processes, and provide technical support for the learning management system and faculty laptops--all this, often single-handedly, without the support of our offices of information technology. Like the position of the CIO ten years ago, no one is quite sure where the individual responsible for distance learning should reside within the college, where they should be located in the reporting structure, or even where their expertise is needed. It is my impression however, that we are rarely positioned where we can most effectively do our job.

There is enormous demand for online courses and programs; proprietary colleges are increasingly serving under-served populations--students who work full-time, students who have dependants, or those who are willing to pay more for on-line offerings and better student services. Many proprietary colleges are more active in trying to come to terms with these changes. For instance, the University of Phoenix's on-line degree program advertises with these slogans: "One university understands how you live today;" "University of...Boundaries are Nothing;" "University of...Class is in session when I so Choose." My own public university is a different story. The distance learning program I administer is a sizable one, with 2500 enrollments per year (approximately 25% of our FTEs). Yet my institution fails to pay more than lip service to the idea that this is not a passing trend. In fact, some administrators take every opportunity to cite reports that distance learning is about to fade from the landscape (often misreading these reports to match their assumptions).

A recent article on the University of West Georgia website recognizes how battle-weary we are, but insists that it is our self-image that is the problem. "[D]istance educators should no longer see themselves as protectors and survivors of isolated programs for which they have labored mightily, but rather as valued strategic partners who can enable the larger institution...to catch up with them and emulate their practices and successes. In short, distance education managers must see themselves, and be seen, as educational leaders who, through less directing and more motivating, facilitate the articulation, development, implementation, and stewardship of a new vision of learning that is shared and supported by a wider academic community."[2]

Another recent article on the role of the instructional technologist in Educause Quarterly (volume 29, no. 4) declared that we "are at a crossroads with respect to [our] advocacy goals and roles," but the author placed the responsibility for the dilemma squarely on the shoulders of instructional technologists themselves: "faculties and chief academic officers must undoubtedly own and lead any sustainable instructional improvement efforts, but instructional technology advocates have an obligation to help educate campus leaders about the strategic promise and limitations of IT. They must also be willing to point out existing barriers to the effective use of instructional technology on their respective campuses."[3]

Distance learning and "instructional technology" (which is seen primarily as licensing, hosting and using a learning management system) are each currently isolated from the college as a whole, hampering the institution's success and progress. These should be one office, administered by an individual (perhaps a Dean for Academic Technology?) with in-depth knowledge of academic technology. It should be a cabinet-level position, with goals, clearly articulated in the strategic plan, to leverage distance learning to make the curriculum more accessible.

The recently-completed strategic plan at my own institution makes no mention of distance learning specifically, and says only in the most generalized way that we should increasingly integrate technology into teaching. During one of the strategic planning roundtables, when we were reviewing that part of plan, one of the vice-presidents declared, "let's just leave that part out, we don't need to say that." When I objected and pointed out that instead of deleting that phrase, we should elaborate, and write initiatives specifically regarding online learning, several people countered that technology didn't need to be mentioned specifically because it was integral to every part of the strategic plan, just the same way we didn't mention pencils and notebooks. When I pointed out the benefits of flexibility and access in online learning, and the competition we would soon be facing, there was consternation all around. We finally decided to leave that general phrase alone. I'm sure, though, that many of the faculty and administrators at the table had little or no idea just how effective online learning can be, or even what it is. Most of them had never seen the inside of a learning management system, and think distance learning is little more than emails between the instructor and the student. Just a week or two later, an assistant vice-president stopped me in the hallway to ask how many online courses the college offered, and if I had a few minutes to show him what an online course is like. A rare opportunity and request! I opened up my own course and pointed to the multi-media and active discussions. He was astounded at how rich a learning experience it was. Considering how popular our online courses are with students, this starts to seem like willful ignorance.

The fact is that the highest levels of our administrations lack vision and leadership regarding online learning and the potential of academic technology. We distance learning and instructional technology specialists are alone on our campuses, trying--unsuccessfully--to have conversations about what we know and see all around us: that higher education is undergoing a radical metamorphosis. We don't know how it will look in the end, but no one among us doubts that a profound transformation is happening and that embracing these changes is critical to creating successful learners for the twenty-first century: 

• By early 2008, one out of ten college students will be enrolled in an online degree program.[4]

• 50% of prospective US college students prefer a mode of delivery either dominated by online or at least balanced between online and on-campus instruction.[5]

• "Online learning through virtual schools is one of the most important advancements in attempting to rethink the effectiveness of education in the United States. The virtual school provides access to online, collaborative and self-paced learning environments--settings that can facilitate 21st-century skills. Today's students must be able to combine these skills with the effective use of technology to succeed in current and future jobs."[6]

We believe that our institutions will not continue to thrive unless we think carefully about the best way to confront these changes within our own institutional culture. A lack of familiarity with technology among college presidents and vice-presidents is not truly the problem. After all, we are the experts. The problem is rather that we are talking, but no one is listening. They are talking, but we are not invited to participate in the discussion. For our campuses to succeed in the twenty-first century, instructional technologists need to be integrated into the life of the college, into its long-term planning, and into its reporting structures at a level high enough to be involved in the right conversations. We need to be given the authority to lead academic technology initiatives generally, not just those for distance learning courses. Campus leaders need to invent new titles, open up committees that have remained closed to new members, and begin to see those of us who are experts in this area as more than just someone around the office who knows how to add narration to a PowerPoint presentation.

Works cited:

[1] Derek W. Keats and J. Philipp Schmidt, "The genesis and emergence of Education 3.0 in higher education: the potential for Africa," First Monday 12:3 (2007). Accessed 5/1/07 at  http://www.firstmonday.org/issues/issue12_3/keats/index.html.

[2] Lisa Marie Portugal, "Emerging Leadership Roles in Distance Education: Current State of Affairs and Forecasting Future Trends," Online Journal of Distance Learning Administration IX:III (Fall 2006). Accessed 5/1/07 at http://www.westga.edu/~distance/ojdla/fall93/portugal93.htm.

[3] Robert G. Henshaw, "Making a Difference," Educause Quarterly 29:4 (2006). Accessed 5/1/07 at http://www.educause.edu/apps/eq/eqm06/eqm0642.asp.

[4] Karen J. Bannan, "Going the Distance," Edtech: Focus on Higher Education (Fall 2005). Accessed 5/1/07 at http://www.edtechmag.com/higher/fall-2005/going-the-distance.html.

[5] ibid.

[6] North American Council for Online Learning and the Partnership for 21st Century Skills, "Virtual Schools and 21st Century Skills" (November 2006). Accessed 5/1/07 at http://www.nacol.org/docs/VSand21stCenturySkillsFINALPaper.pdf

Additional Reading

Richardson, Will. 2006. "Watch Business, Politics and Media and Think Education," Weblogg-ed, June 26, http://weblogg-ed.com/2006/watch-business-politics-and-media-and-think-education/. Accessed 5/1/07.