Abstract
This article examines the pedagogical adaptation of Textual
Communities, a digital tool originally developed for
collaborative research in textual scholarship, to teach
paleography at the undergraduate level within a liberal arts
context. Prompted by the exigencies of remote learning
during the COVID-19 pandemic and the broader framework of
critical digital pedagogy, the course-design reimagined the
tool’s primary research-focused function — edition-making —
as a dynamic teaching and learning environment emphasizing
transcription, engagement, and student autonomy. The article
presents a specific example of the use of a digital tool in
teaching paleography, detailing its purpose and impact on
student learning and engagement. The article offers a
concrete case study of hybrid- and flexible-by-design
pedagogy, showing the value of using scholarly digital tools
in undergraduate settings.
Introduction
The changes experienced by the higher education community
following the outbreak of COVID-19 remain unprecedented in
light of its impact on different spheres of collective life.
Paraphrasing Marcel Mauss, the pandemic can be viewed as a
“total social fact”
[
Mauss 1966, 76–77], playing a pivotal
role in social change due to its significant “implications throughout
society”
[
Edgar and Sedgwick 1999, 64]. Against
this backdrop, this paper addresses the spheres of teaching
digital humanities, specifically in the aftermath of the
pandemic.
In 2023, the departments of English and History at the University
of Lethbridge approved an undergraduate advanced course,
under the leadership of Barbara Bordalejo, for English and
History students on paleography of the British Isles
covering texts in Latin, Old French, Old and Middle English
produced between 800 and 1500. When designing the course,
the authors of this paper implemented Textual Communities
[
Bordalejo and Robinson 2024], a
collaborative online research system that allows
participants to work asynchronously, which we adapted for
pedagogical purposes. Because of Bordalejo’s experience
during the Fall of 2021, when a surge of the COVID Delta
variant forced all academic staff to pivot to online
teaching, Textual Communities was as much about its
pedagogical promise as its potential use as a distance
learning tool. In this paper, we draw from our practical
experience with the platform and extrapolate a systematic
discussion of the implications of the adaptation and use of
a research tool for pedagogical purposes. One of these
implications is undoubtedly how the lockdown forced
academics and teachers to repurpose existing tools developed
for different ends, such as Textual Communities, with the
aim of easily switching from in-person to remote if and when
required. The students would have the opportunity to work
from home or anywhere else while continuing to receive
constant feedback on their work from the instructors. But
implication of allowing students access to research tools —
and allowing them some of the flexibility we enjoy as
researchers ourselves — is a form of critical pedagogy.
In the wake of COVID, a considerable amount of literature emerged
on implementing digital technology in higher educational
contexts [
Akbar 2016]
[
Lai 2011]. These studies centred around the
consequences of the pandemic on teaching and learning at
different levels, highlighting the drawbacks and
opportunities of remote teaching and learning in this
context (e.g. [
Murphy 2020]; [
Hofer et al. 2021]); they also theorized
ways in which to normalize e-Learning Pedagogies for the
near (post-pandemic) future [
Barrett-Fox et al. 2020]
[
Careaga-Butter et al. 2020]. In this paper,
we propose a third topic: looking at the implications these
techniques and tools have for our understanding of what we
ask our students to do. This study presents our experiences
adapting Textual Communities to become a pedagogical aid in
the paleography classroom. Our work serves as a practical
example of addressing the aftermath of the pandemic. It
provides us with both a sound teaching environment and an
effective way to transition to online teaching quickly,
should the circumstances require it. By using tools in this
flexible manner, we ensure that our students are safeguarded
should extreme circumstances arise, whether personal or
affecting the entire community. We share this experience as
a generalizable example and a reproducible strategy for
teaching paleography and the history of handwriting.
Moreover, the current work presents different perspectives
(those of the instructors, the teaching assistants, and the
students) and experiences to assess the importance of this
course, considering its significance in the post-COVID-19
era. The paper presents an overview of the existing
scholarship on emergency e-learning, provided along with the
most recent developments of the discourse surrounding
digital pedagogy and specifically its particular inflection,
i.e., critical digital pedagogy [
Kim 2018]
[
Stommel et al. 2020a], whose principles have
served as a methodology for this work.
Methods of teaching paleography
Paleography is the study of historical handwriting, traditionally
focused on the medieval period. At institutions with strong
material resources, such as a rare books library with
manuscript collections, this class can be taught in
conjunction with other aspects of manuscript culture.
Students might be asked to identify scripts or read directly
from manuscript materials under the direction of a professor
or teaching assistant. Tests might include reading or
copying from original manuscript materials. The breadth of
the course is, to a degree in such cases, determined by
available materials. Institutions with extensive collections
of manuscripts or that are located near repositories with
large holdings can introduce students to a wide range of
scripts, languages, texts, and codicological forms.
Newer institutions and institutions with more limited funding or
holdings can offer a simulacrum of such a course using the
increasingly large number of high-quality facsimiles
available from manuscript libraries and other cultural
institutions. Access to freely available digital images
enables a pedagogical model in which students read from
these images during class, while the instructor clarifies
particularly challenging sections. This approach reflects a
practice that has served many generations of paleographers
well. Whether a university has access to the original
artifacts or facsimiles, however, smaller classes have
traditionally been a sine qua non of successful instruction.
While lectures are common in such courses, a very important
part remains hands-on work with the artifacts or facsimiles
themselves, including plenty of one-on-one feedback from the
instructor.
Our approach switches the focus from reading aloud to reading and
recording. We asked the students to transcribe the
manuscript pages in class and on their own time and to
include a very light encoding so the transcription could, in
theory, be processed by computers. This encoding component
is an innovation in reference to more traditional approaches
to paleography. This approach enables students to engage
with texts as dynamic semiotic systems, recognizing
transcription not as a mere substitution but as an act of
translation — from the semiotic system of the manuscript to
that of the digital transcription [
Robinson and Solopova 1993]. As Robinson
and Solopova (1993) emphasize, transcriptions are inherently
interpretative and incomplete, akin to all translational
acts, as they navigate between distinct semiotic frameworks
(e.g., the primary source and the digital medium). Moreover,
in the context of the semiotic shift, students often
initiate their own reflexive process regarding
why and
how texts should
be interpreted and transcribed.
Institutional context
In 2023, Barbara Bordalejo had a class on paleography of the
British Isles approved in the departments of English and
History at the University of Lethbridge with manuscript
selections covering texts in Latin, Old French, Old and
Middle English produced between 700 and 1500. Although her
paleographic training in the late 1990s included some access
to digital photography (which was of very low quality at the
time), she primarily worked with analog materials, including
printed photographs, photocopies, and a few manuscripts.
However, after joining the Canterbury Tales Project,
Bordalejo shifted her paleography work to computer
environments, where she worked with digital images taken
from old microfilm and transcribed texts encoded in SGML
using a custom font called “Canterbury.” The new
course's design builds on and integrates these text encoding
skills, which are useful for text processing using
computers, and commonly implemented in digital humanities.
The University of Lethbridge is a comprehensive academic research
university (CARU) with a liberal arts focus that serves a
primarily undergraduate student body. As such, unlike larger
institutions, the University of Lethbridge has a limited
collection of original materials that might be used for
teaching a general paleography class. Historically, the
English Department was well-staffed, but budgeting
constraints weakened the breadth of the program, reducing
its faculty complement by as much as 50%. Bordalejo arrived
in the Fall of 2021 to teach medieval literature, digital
humanities, and humanities data courses. She proposed three
courses that were approved as new offerings: Digital
Textuality (English), Humanities Data (Interdisciplinary),
and Paleography (English and History). Paleography is
offered as a third-year course in both English and History.
There were no prerequisites, but knowledge of Old or Middle
English or History of the Book was recommended for those
taking the class. The official course syllabus (see [
Bordalejo 2024]) listed the following
objectives:
- Identify different scripts
- Use correct terminology while referring to different
scripts
- Understand the historical context of the studied
works
- Read and transcribe scripts of the British
Isles
- Formulate research questions regarding paleographic
studies
Most students had already taken a course focused on medieval
history or medieval literature. About half of the class had
training in either Old English, Middle English, or the
history of the English language. However, there were also
students without any knowledge of these or similar subjects,
including a few from the natural sciences who had very
little background in the humanities at all. A common
characteristic the vast majority of the students shared was
their lack of familiarity with aspects of technology such as
encoding. Although we are unable to document this, the sense
among the more experienced members of our team is that, at
the turn of the century, it was more common for individuals
to have at least some knowledge of HTML acquired through
practices such as blogging and developing websites in the
days before WYSIWYG (What You See Is What You Get) web
applications and the rise of social media. While there has
been an increase in the access of technology in students’
day-to-day lives this does not necessarily mean there has
been a corresponding increase in their understanding of what
goes on on the back-end:
While many young people use technology daily,
this does not necessarily mean that they possess high-order
technical skills that will allow them to excel beyond their
superficial use of tech gadgets. [Thomas and Blackwood 2010, 8]
In fact, while programming languages, such as HTML, remain
popular among users — as illustrated in a recent survey by
[
Stack Overflow 2024] — this does not
represent a general literacy, as we discovered when we asked
students to practice making a small webpage to help them
understand on a base level how information must be
structured in order to allow the machine to process it.
Amongst both offerings of the course, we found that students
struggled to grasp the fundamental logic of computer
languages even before attempting to encode the
manuscripts.
Literature review
The emergence of academic literature on the pandemic’s impact on
pedagogy has led to two contradictory attitudes. One
approach focuses more on the short-term implications and
views classroom adjustments as a temporary response to the
pandemic. The other is geared towards predicting the
potential long-term impact on pedagogy by continuing to
implement the new strategies developed during the pandemic.
On the one hand, the first attitude highlights the
“risks” associated with an increased dependency
and deployment of digital tools and online learning in an
educational setting; on the other hand, the second attitude
suggests that teaching practices should be informed by the
COVID experience to enhance them in the future rather than
discarding them once the pandemic is “over”.
Murphy’s work is situated within the first approach. Murphy
focuses on the consequences of what is defined as “emergency eLearning”
[
Murphy 2020, 1] criticizing the fact
that the pandemic has led to a general “securitization” of higher education’s rising
reliance on surveillance technologies and the adoption of
one-size-fits-all solutions. They also emphasize the “danger of normalizing emergency
eLearning” without falling into the rhetoric
of “condemning all forms of online
learning,” but still argue for an “emancipation” from the
securitization associated with eLearning [
Murphy 2020, 10]. In this sense,
Murphy is one of the most critical voices in the scholarly
discussion on the pandemic turn. Still, they focus mainly on
the risks — neglecting to address other issues, such as the
degree to which technology is helpful in post-pandemic
pedagogies and the circumstances from which these changes
have come to be.
Hofer, Nistor, and Scheibenzuber have discussed the need to
re-examine the pandemic experience in terms of its benefits
to teaching practices. Consistent with the second stance
discussed previously — looking at the lessons learned from
the pandemic as a positive — they engage with the emergency
aspects taken for granted by Murphy [
Hofer et al. 2021]. In their contribution,
the authors begin with the idea that normally transformative
processes may not develop in a gradual, cumulative manner,
such as the implementation of digital tools in teaching [
Hofer et al. 2021, 2]. They argue
that changes “can be suddenly triggered
by unexpected and compelling incidents or accidents
that make up crisis situations,” such as in
the case of the pandemic [
Hofer et al. 2021, 2]. According to their
view, this happens mainly because “[c]risis situations emphasize the strengths,
uncover the weaknesses, and lead to progress”
[
Hofer et al. 2021, 2].
In the same vein, Barrett-Fox et al. positively assess this
“shift for teaching” in
terms of the acceleration of “the use of
digital technology,” whose potential may be
regarded as important “for online
learning to bring about new pedagogical
approaches”
[
Barrett-Fox et al. 2020, 154] in the
post-pandemic. Barrett-Fox et al. emphasize the importance
of transitioning from a “restoration” to an all-encompassing “transformation” of teaching
practices. This awareness of new approaches and methods to
engaging students comes from the realization that during the
lockdown, “it became painfully obvious
that we could not just do the same thing. Some
assignments were no longer possible. Some
expectations were no longer reasonable. Some
objectives were no longer valuable ”[
Barrett-Fox et al. 2020, 161–162].
Thus, they not only discuss the potential benefits of online
learning to foster new pedagogical approaches [
Barrett-Fox et al. 2020, 183–184] but
also how such a shift allows increased access to educational
resources and opportunities for students to engage in deeper
learning. At the same time, they highlight potential
drawbacks, such as the risk that digital technology may
exacerbate existing inequalities and the need for teachers
to acquire new digital skills [
Barrett-Fox et al. 2020, 185–186].
Their contribution joins those who call for further research
into the implications of the pandemic and foresee a positive
outcome from the wider adoption of online learning and new
pedagogies connected to it.
For their part, Lohr et al. carried out qualitative research to
“address the lack of systematic
research on digitally supported learning activities
and the institutional and personal factors
associated with their occurrence in higher
education”
[
Lohr et al. 2021, 2]. Their broader aim
was to assess the degree of familiarity of teachers with
technology in higher educational environments, and this
allowed the identification of three distinct teacher roles:
“powerpointers”, “clickers”, and “digital pros” — each of which
was shown to be more or less comfortable in the use of
digital technologies for teaching purposes. This
differentiation also suggests that implementation is not a
one-to-one relation and does not necessarily lead to digital
pedagogy, even when there is space for digital pedagogical
innovation. [
Careaga-Butter et al. 2020] considered the
degree to which digital tools and resources that contributed
to online education during the pandemic can continue in the
post-pandemic future. This is possible only if teachers are
willing to adopt and integrate them into their teaching
practices and are prepared to offer students the guidance
and support necessary to ensure their success in their
studies. Together with the need “to
collaborate in the construction of [...] a new mixed
educational paradigm that can face the post-pandemic
context and meet the new demands and requirements of
the 21st century,” a good-faith effort to
integrate digital technologies into the classroom is the
only way to achieve a “true online
education” in the terms they define [
Careaga-Butter et al. 2020, 29].
COVID-19 was not the sole prompt for using digital tools to teach
and learn. For instance, Torsello, Ackerley, and Castello
[
Torsello et al. 2008] and Forti [
Forti 2023] have already proved the
usefulness of integrating corpus management programs
designed for linguistic analysis into teaching linguistics
and translation. Social media platforms such as X (formerly
known as Twitter) have also proven to be beneficial both for
teaching and learning purposes [
Gleason and Manca 2020]
[
Rinaldo et al. 2011]. Notably, the cases
mentioned above are the only examples we found where
advanced tools not primarily intended for pedagogical
purposes have been repurposed for educational use.
Addressing this gap presents an opportunity to expand the
array of available resources for educators, potentially
enhancing the quality of the teaching and learning process;
in our case, it involved the unconventional implementation
of Textual Communities in the university classroom
environment.
What is Textual Communities?
Textual Communities is an online application designed for the
needs of textual scholars working with texts, mainly found
in manuscripts, in multiple versions. It was first
established as a project at the University of Saskatchewan
with funding from the Canadian Foundation for Innovation
(CFI) and support from the U of S’s Digital Research Centre.
Its purpose, as described by Robinson, Nelson, and Klaassen
is to “provide the infrastructure and
tools to allow anyone, anywhere interested in a text
to contribute to its study, and thus to become part
of a community working together”
[
Robinson et al. 2012]. As such, it integrates
tools for the transcription, collation, regularization, and
publication of scholarly editions using a
social-network-like model. Since Textual Communities is
available online, the system has been ideal for large
collaborative projects where participants work
asynchronously and (potentially) at a physical distance. It
has a component that provides version control by recording
the source, time, and responsibility for changes — although,
unlike Google Docs, Textual Communities is not optimized to
allow real-time simultaneous editing of a single document
(making it more similar to GitHub). Instead, the system
keeps track of different versions of transcriptions and
records times, duration, and responsibility. In addition,
the data created within the communities is made available
for “unrestricted commercial as well as
non-commercial use”
[
Robinson et al. 2012].
What sets Textual Communities apart are two features: its
integrated participant- and document-management systems, and
its mapping of the fundamental structure connecting
documents and texts. These reflect two core principles: that
assembling large corpora is best achieved through
well-managed communities of contributors, both academic and
non-academic; and that the usefulness of the corpus depends
on clearly articulating the relationships between materials.
Textual Communities is designed to organize multiple
participants around shared editorial projects. It supports
relational structures ranging from tightly controlled
editorial teams to loosely organized crowdsourced
communities — making it ideal for both classroom use and
long-term research. The name “Textual
Communities” therefore highlights the
importance of community aspects in textual editing and
scholarship, which is one reason why the system is easily
adaptable for classroom environments. Since the system’s
inception in the 2010s, various projects have welcomed
collaborators from around the globe. For long-term
enterprises like the Canterbury Tales Project, more than one
hundred and twenty participants have joined Textual
Communities since the implementation of its latest version
in 2014. These collaborators are mostly transcribers who
have been trained in TEI-XML as well as in paleography and
Middle English. The system has been tested, and up to forty
participants have been logged into a single project
simultaneously, but there is no reason to believe that
higher numbers would not work either.
How did we adapt Textual Communities to the classroom?
Although the goal of a paleography course, traditionally and
primarily, has been to train students in the interpretation
of hand-written documents, there has always been an element
of research apprenticeship involved. Medieval and literary
manuscripts are not objects most individuals encounter
outside of a research context (i.e., by requesting access
for research purposes from academic libraries, museums, and
private collectors), and the conventions used to track
student observations — such as the Leiden transcription
conventions — are those used by researchers (e.g. [
Wilcken 1932].
Today, digital transcription is the standard for projects
interested in text comparison and analysis, whether their
outputs are released in print or digitally. Although the
study of paleography requires reading handwritten materials
and identifying scripts and scribes, paleographers
increasingly find themselves working within digital
environments that need their own subset of specialized
knowledge. In adapting Textual Communities to the
paleography classroom, we continue this tradition. At the
same time, the more complex needs of a digital environment —
which require coding consistency and controlled markup —
necessitated that we also teach our students some basic
information about computer markup and encoding systems, with
particular emphasis on TEI-XML as the standard used for
digital projects. These classes were led by Daniel Paul
O’Donnell, a former Chair of the TEI consortium. Beyond this
basic computational instruction, a series of additional
decisions were required in order to implement Textual
Communities — which was not designed as a pedagogical tool —
into the classroom.
For this particular class, for example, the transcriptions did
not need to be further processed or published, and their
long-term preservation was not required (indeed privacy
regulations at the University require records of student
work to be destroyed at set deadlines after the end of a
class unless additional permissions have been granted). We
thought, therefore, that Textual Communities Sandbox offered
an appropriate environment for the students’ work (indeed,
this is the version we recommend for anyone testing the
software or working on short-term mini-projects). This has
most of the same functionalities as the production version:
There are no limitations on creating communities by any
interested parties, but it does not provide archiving and
publication facilities. Although it would have been possible
to use the production version with the same effect, we chose
to create the course within the experimental space. After
all, the primary purpose of its use was beyond the regular
implementations of Textual Communities but still required a
centralized system that would keep track of work being done
and completed by students, as well as of the hours worked
and every change implemented in the texts. Because of its
versioning capabilities, Textual Communities allowed us to
track in real-time the work being done by the students,
either in the classroom or outside of it. As of March 2025,
the sandbox environment referenced in this study has been
retired. All functionality described in this article is now
available through the platform formerly known as the
Textual Communities Production
version. The primary site is is
https://textualcommunities.com; the address
https://textualcommunities.org now redirects
to this site
Class structure
Lessons were structured in three-hour blocks with a short break.
The first part of each lesson was dedicated to the history
of a particular script, its characteristic features, and the
changes in writing technologies during that period. The
course began with Old English manuscripts but also included
Latin, Old French, Old and Middle English texts. To
accommodate each script, we discussed the evolution and use
of specific characters in each period, as well as
contemporary abbreviations and their meanings. Generally,
each lecture concluded by showing particularities present in
sample pages which students would then transcribe, including
ambiguous signs and extra-textual features (e.g. damage to
the manuscript, scribal corrections, etc.) that might cause
difficulty.
The rest of the class was dedicated to practical transcription,
during which time each student worked on their individual
transcriptions. The setup of Textual Communities focuses on
understanding the text as an instance of a work preserved in
individual folia within a manuscript (Work/Manuscript/Folio;
see Figure 1), but this is not practical when one expects
students to work mostly independently of each other.
In production environments, the point of collaboration within
Textual Communities is that different participants work on
different manuscript passages or, if they work on the same,
that they work on different parts of the workflow (e.g.,
transcribing, checking, etc.; see Figure 2). It is also
assumed, in most cases, that contributors will use their
technology (i.e., computers, operating systems, etc.),
albeit with minimal technological requirements. In a
classroom environment, however, neither of these assumptions
is true. First, the students are all learning the same
skills from the same manuscripts, meaning that the community
works in parallel rather than serial in a production
environment. Second, accommodation and equity concerns
necessitate that the system be adapted to allow students to
use their own technology or utilize university-provided
equipment.
Our classes were scheduled in a lab equipped with Apple computers
to ensure that students had access to sufficient computer
power, regardless of their personal means. But in many cases
(indeed most) students preferred to work on their laptops or
tablets — in some cases, using special adaptations required
for various accommodations. Before the beginning of the
semester, we registered individual students with Textual
Communities and added them to a community called
“Paleography2023.” This allowed us to upload
manuscript images from various sources and place them in
separate folders, each corresponding to a particular
student. The images were selected to correspond with the
topics and chronology being followed in class (a list of the
texts used for our lessons can be found in [
Bordalejo 2024]). Instead of separating
the pages according to manuscripts as would have been done
in a production environment, we created individual folders
for each student and populated them with images of the
different manuscript pages assigned to the class (see
Figures 3 and 4, and cf. Figures 1 and 2).
During the practical portion of the class, we walked around the
classroom, ensuring that students could make sense of the
text and answer questions. Frequently, questions led to
conversations about interpretation and misinterpretation,
opinions, and more advanced discussions about the
implications of different transcription choices. Students
often shared their perspectives on the text and its
interpretation collaboratively. Each student was working on
the assigned pages for the day but was encouraged to work at
their own pace. Although, as an instructor, one might prefer
to keep students working at a similar pace, one of the
significant advantages of working within Textual Communities
is that students can take ownership of their time and choose
when and how to work. This is particularly noticeable
towards the end of the semester, as students have gained
confidence and are less hesitant to make their own
decisions.
If particular manuscripts turned out to be challenging, the class
swapped completed transcriptions for peer correction as the
class as a whole read the text together. A few students
wanted to pair up outside of class for peer correction. If
this was requested, the professor or teaching assistants
could assign their peers’ transcriptions to them for review
within Textual Communities. A record of the changes made to
the student’s original transcription would be visible, as
Textual Communities has a version control system that allows
users to revert to previous versions so that changes made
are visible.
Checking student work
Although it might appear that a system allowing the transcription
of primary sources would be intrinsically geared to
paleography class, there are no mechanisms within Textual
Communities to evaluate the accuracy of the transcription of
individual characters. This required that checking and
evaluation be done independently of the system by the
instructor(s) and teaching assistant(s).
From an instructor’s perspective, the biggest drawback of Textual
Communities is that it does not have a feature to correct
the submitted transcriptions automatically. Although we do
not dismiss the desirability for pedagogical purposes of
implementing a correction module within the system, this is
not a requirement for classroom use, as correcting
individual transcriptions is not a particularly onerous
task. Ultimately, we employed three methods of correction:
instructor correction, peer correction, and self-correction.
After all students had submitted their transcriptions, the
instructor read the manuscripts aloud. This enabled students
to self-assess, correct their work, and explore various
transcription options. We also tried transcription exchange,
during which students gave each other access to
transcriptions to evaluate each other’s accuracy.
During the semester, as students became more proficient, they
were encouraged to revise their transcriptions to ensure
they were as accurate as possible. At the same time, they
were given different choices: to retain all abbreviations,
to expand them, or to use encoding to reflect both states.
We discussed the advantages and disadvantages of each
approach and why they might choose one over the other. These
techniques not only maintain students’ engagement but also
offer an opportunity to test acquired skills in self-guided
work. We acknowledge that we follow in the footsteps of
proponents of critical digital pedagogy, as discussed below.
So, we aim to emphasize students' roles in their educational
journey. In this light, we strive to foster students’
independent thinking and self-determined work. Although the
initial aim of implementing Textual Communities was to
ensure that the class could easily continue online if
required, we soon realized its enormous potential to
exercise student self-regulation, independence, and
confidence-building. The practical format of the class,
combined with supervised independent work, was well received
because it differed from most classes in our department,
which typically focus on analysis and close reading.
Teaching assistant’s perspective
To support the instructor in the process of providing
constructive feedback and help students improve their
skills, the role of the teaching assistant (TA) in this
set-up is of great importance. First of all, TAs have to be
aware of the course design and ideally contribute to it by
working alongside the instructor. This collaboration can
yield many benefits not only to their overall professional
development as prospective educators but also to enhance
course delivery. Being liminal figures between students and
instructors, they can leverage a privileged observation
point, which enables TAs to provide insights from both
perspectives — the instructor’s and the students'. TAs must
actively participate in class activities, almost as if they
were enrolled students, to assess progress and identify
issues effectively. This involves transcribing texts before
the start of each class, which allows the TAs to understand
the challenges posed by each transcription. Since each
scribe’s work is unique, being familiar with potential
problems in a text enhances their ability to respond quickly
and effectively. This proactive approach ensures that TAs
are well-prepared to support students and address any
difficulties during the course. While the TAs’ presence
enriches the learning experience for both students and the
TAs themselves, it is essential to avoid the drawback of
students becoming overly dependent on them.
Another of the domains where TAs can prove very beneficial to the
course is the evaluation of the difficulty of each task as
well as the weekly workload. As the course progresses, the
TA importance does not diminish but instead changes
according to different factors. When the students begin the
course, their unfamiliarity with both the tools (XML-TEI
encoding and the peculiarities of the Textual Communities
Sandbox, above all) and the scripts (insular minuscule,
caroline, gothic, etc.) makes the TAs fundamental in
providing the early personalized and timely feedback that is
essential for the development of these skills. The students
may also struggle with the discontinuities that characterize
each period. For instance, once the students are well
acquainted with the variations of
gothica
textualis they will then have to readjust
themselves to the knowledge of a fairly distinct hand such
as
anglicana. This struggle, together
with the fatigue of the semester, usually referred to as
“exhaustion” or “burnout” in the literature [
Galbraith and Merrill 2012] [
Law 2007], often requires diversified types
of additional support to students, especially considering
their different learning styles and eventual needs.
This means that generally TAs serve as mentors for students.
Having been involved in transcription projects and having
first-hand experience of the issues the students may
encounter, they provide hands-on guidance, troubleshoot
technical problems, and encourage students to explore the
tools autonomously. This last part is fundamental since the
pedagogical role should always be that of offering ongoing
support while avoiding the risk of creating a situation for
which the students solely depend on the TA. In line with the
self-centred learning strategy adopted by the course, TAs
focused on empowering students to develop their
problem-solving skills and independence rather than
providing solutions too readily. This balance ensured that
students benefited from the support of TAs without
compromising their learning and growth, considering that
students’ learning autonomy should always be at the core of
their activities, helping students develop self-confidence
and the necessary skills to navigate the challenges of
digital transcriptions autonomously. This relates to
fundamental metacognitive skills — the awareness of one’s
own learning processes — and TAs must let students develop
these skills in their own ways. For example, bridging the
gap between theoretical knowledge of a handwriting’s
characteristics and the practical application of that
knowledge to understand the idiosyncrasies of a given
manuscript via the student’s own transcription
decisions.
Student’s Perspective
In both instances of the course offered (Spring 2023 and 2024),
the introductory class was centred around explaining what
transcription is and its different types (diplomatic, etc.).
Textual Communities was not introduced to students
immediately. Instead, they were presented with an image of a
page of “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland” in Lewis
Carroll’s handwriting, with the text meandering and curving
across the page. They were asked to transcribe the page onto
paper by hand. This was an initial challenge to see what
students perceived as essential aspects of transcribing.
Would they keep the shape of the words on the page? Would
they copy the page numbers on the original image's corners?
Would they include the virgules and dashes used? This
practice enabled students to understand how transcribing is
an act of interpretation carried out with regard to a larger
purpose and how multiple transcriptions can exist for a
single text. Indeed we use this method in teaching other
computational skills to students at the University of
Lethbridge: by beginning with an illustration of the problem
a system (such as TEI markup) is intended to address (such
as recording an interpretation of a document) and then
asking students to come with their own approach before
teaching them about existing methods. We believe that this
allows students to understand the canonical systems better
by illustrating the problem they were developed to address.
With the problem in mind, students were then introduced to the
Textual Communities platform. While the instructor and TAs
initially guided the students on how to use the website's
basic features — how to access their assigned pages, save
their work, etc. — the students were left to decide how
their transcriptions would look. They had to decide what
they wanted to include in their work. For example, if a line
was crossed out and new text was written above the deleted
text, they had to decide whether to include both parts, one
or the other, or indicate the deleted text. Student
transcriptions often differed significantly from one another
due to the decisions that had to be made throughout their
work. The instructor and TAs emphasized that making
different choices about what to include or not include was
not necessarily right or wrong; it was just a matter of
interpretation. Perhaps the best statement about the student
perspective in our course comes from one of our students
herself, Victoria Simmons, quoted here with permission:
As the Rural Diary Archive [a project the student was looking at]
suggests, crowdsourcing of transcription can be accomplished
not only on a global or national scale but also on a
smaller, local scale by using a classroom setting. A similar
type of collaborative experience was created in our
classroom when we focused on discussing certain parts of
manuscripts that were comparatively complex to transcribe.
When there was a particular section of our assigned
manuscript that was more difficult — due to multiple
adjacent characters written in minimum for example — the
class would be encouraged to individually express to the
class how they had interpreted the characters when they were
transcribing. In most circumstances, this resulted in many
unique interpretations expressed by classmates as to how
they visually followed the connection of ligatures into what
they believed may have been the scribe’s intended
characters. By listening to multiple people voice their
reasoning behind transcribing the writing in the way that
they had chosen, the entire class was invited to look at a
variety of possible interpretations for each transcription.
The most important result of this experience is that each
individual is challenged to question their own method of
transcription. This technique is beneficial to the field of
paleography because it prevents transcribers from settling
on a single, definitive – and potentially incorrect or
incomplete — perspective of the transcription. The benefit
of this experience is amplified when it comes to global
crowdsourcing projects, such as those mentioned above, which
allow both beginners and experts to provide a greater
variety of original viewpoint. (Simmons, student paper,
2023)
As Simmons notes, “many unique interpretations [were] expressed
by classmates … By listening to multiple people voice their
reasoning behind transcribing the writing in the way that
they had chosen, the entire class was invited to look at
various possible interpretations for each transcription. The
most important result of this experience is that each
individual is challenged to question their own method of
transcription” (Simmons, student paper, 2023). Viewing other
students’ pages and their work on Textual Communities also
allowed those who were not present in class to still be a
part of this experience of seeing other people’s
interpretations of the text.
Students were also encouraged to work together on transcriptions
and to frequently ask questions as the instructor and TAs
were in the room for the working period. As described by
Simmons, a “collaborative experience was created in our
classroom” (2023). This, combined with the previously
established attitude of transcription as interpretation,
established that the classwork was not focused on being
“right” or “wrong.” Instead, the priority was to learn
important characteristics and traits of the various hands
taught and try their best to complete the assigned pages.
Some students initially seemed apprehensive about the lack
of a “grade” they would receive for their transcriptions. As
a result, many of the early transcriptions took students a
long time to complete. To alleviate this concern, the
beginning of later classes was devoted to identifying common
errors among multiple students. In both course iterations
(Spring 2023 and Spring 2024), the instructor and TAs
adjusted the amount of correcting done to transcriptions
depending on how much the students requested feedback for
their work. Textual Communities enables instructors
categorized on the platform to access student pages and edit
or add comments to their transcriptions, allowing students
to view comments about their work outside of class time.
Accessing Textual Communities outside of class time from any
computer is one of the significant benefits of the platform,
allowing students to work outside of the set class-time
working periods. They could sign in to their account from
any computer. This, combined with the rule in the course
that the pages only had to be done by the end of the
semester, allowed students the flexibility and freedom to
complete coursework at their own pace. This student-centred
approach was enabled by the flexibility offered by the
Textual Communities platform. The collaborative and
accessible platform allowed students to work together with
classmates and consider the many possible interpretations
that transcription might involve. It also allowed students
to access their work and view corrections or comments made
about it on their own time, which might contribute to easing
students’ worries about periods in the semester that
required more of their attention — they could work on their
pages at any point, as long as all of them were completed by
the end of the semester. In short, using Textual Communities
as a platform encouraged students to collaborate, consider
the interpretative process of transcriptions, not focus too
hard on mistakes they might have considered themselves to
have made, and gave them the freedom to work on assigned
pages at times that worked best for their personalized
schedules.
Discussion
The core innovation in using Textual Communities for teaching is
that students make their own research decisions about what
to transcribe and why, with instructors supporting them in
implementing these decisions. As [
O'Donnell et al. 2016b]
argue, the traditional division between “research ”— i.e.,
what the professor engages in and is protected by academic
freedom — and “teaching” — i.e., when students are told what
to do and how to do it — misrepresents the nature of
Humanities scholarship and limits student learning by
preventing meaningful engagement in research in a meaningful
way. This practice also reflects what we call the “First Law
of Humanities Computing,” which refers to the fact that any
application of computation to a humanities problem seems to
require a fundamental examination of the purposes behind the
original activity [
O'Donnell et al. 2016a]. Asking students to
consider why they want to transcribe these manuscripts, what
they hope to achieve by doing so, and how they can match
their methods to their goals, is a way of asking them to
engage in critical reflection on their own learning — both
within the course itself and, of course, more broadly within
their programs. Unlike non-digital work, where intuition and
analogy often can serve as guides, digital work demands
conscious design and algorithmic thinking. By allowing
students to exercise judgment and pursue their own
questions, Textual Communities collapses this gap. It
invites students to engage in the same intellectual freedoms
that define research itself.
As we described earlier, this meant that there were numerous
active discussions on the implications of specific choices
during the transcription process. While the lecturing and
grading resembled more traditional class structure and
dynamics, which relates to the intrinsic nature of any
paleography class, the use of Textual Communities provided
students with tools and methods — high-resolution, digital
facsimiles, peer dialogue, collaboration, and meaningful
input into the methods they used to transcribe (scribal
corrections, unclear textual segments, a change in scribal
“hands,” and letter forms) — that allowed them to set their
own research questions, exercise their viewpoints and
interpretations, and pursue them according to their own
critical judgments.
The version control system helps students to track their own
variants of the text and can reconstruct their train of
thought regarding their transcription work (for instance,
where the student might interpret a mark modification from a
scribe or ignore it). In contrast to traditional approaches
to paleography, Textual Communities prompts students to
reflect on their actions as they are taking place in an even
more profound manner. The reason for this is that it compels
the students to face the logic of the machine and its
one-sidedness, which forces fixed choices where human
interpretation would allow ambiguity, requiring students to
decide definitively between possibilities that a manuscript
might leave open. For instance, the XML-TEI markup language
allows for hundreds of ways to encode features within a
single page, with variations such as different forms of
damage to the page (such as water damage, erasure, fire,
animal, scraping, etc.). This level of critical engagement
with the problem — the problem-solving itself — creates a
beneficial dialogue, which involves all the members, from
the experts (teachers and TAs) to the students' peers. Some
of the students within the classroom already have an
intuitive understanding of what is going on, and they have
an opportunity to share this with the class. This peer
collaboration throughout the course allows students to see
how others are interpreting and solving the problems they
see on the pages. For instance, students were asked to
attempt to recognize the material of the page on which the
text appeared (whether parchment or paper). As a result,
interpretative uncertainty in the document can be rendered
into different solutions. One student might interpret a
letter form completely differently from another — for
example, reading pride instead of þrid (a variant spelling of “third”) based on
the common confusion between thorn and p — or assume a sense
of intentionality from the scribe regarding what another
might view as an error.
In the foreword of the collection
Critical Digital Pedagogy edited by Stommel, Friend, and Morris during the
pandemic [
Stommel et al. 2020a], Benjamin argues that
such experience functions as a “portal, a gateway between
one world and the next” [
Benjamin 2020] leading to a greater integration of
digital tools not initially developed for teaching purposes
in education — as in the case of Textual Communities. In the
introduction to the same collection, the authors also state
that “[n]othing in edtech was built for humans. Thus far,
our edtech machines were taught only to speak to other
machines” [
Stommel et al. 2020b]. An example of this is
represented by video conferencing tools like Zoom that “were
not built to meet the moral challenge of a present moment
like this one” [
Stommel et al. 2020b]. They have allowed, however, for
synchronous collaborative learning experiences and virtual
classroom discussions without replacing the classroom, which
is and remains “unique” and distinct from “the architecture
of the Web” [
Stommel et al. 2020b]
This concept of the uniqueness of the classroom, “with all its
limitations” [
hooks 1994, 207], makes it a “location
of possibility,” that allows for both the empowerment of
social actors and the disruption of traditional forms of
teaching. In hooks’ view, education should be a space for
freedom and ultimately a transformative process. She
advocates for engaged pedagogy, which understands classrooms
as a site for self-guided exploration and mutual
participation. While she extends this approach beyond a
traditional academic setting, our practice of using Textual
Communities has been an attempt to integrate these
suggestions meaningfully. We have kept hooks’ perspective in
mind in constructing this environment for our paleography
class. One of our main objectives was to try and
“responsibilize” students in the way defined by [
Spencer 2018, 291]. For Spencer,
renegotiating the “social contract” between professor and
student within the classroom is one of them. Spencer
introduces this concept at the outset of the article,
highlighting the limited roles each party can ethically
operate [
Spencer 2018, 287]. According to this
contract, the relationship between the professor,
responsible for the course content and grading criteria, and
the student, seeking to acquire skills to advance their
future career prospects, resembles in its fundamental
features a customer-provider neoliberal transaction. For
Spencer, precisely this transactional dynamic is utterly
problematic since it creates a power imbalance, where the
professor supervises, and the student works at the pace
dictated by the employer, potentially for the professor’s
benefit [
Spencer 2018, 287–288]. Moreover, this power
imbalance makes it difficult for students to raise
objections, and thus a need to acknowledge and
constructively engage with this issue for the benefit of
both students and professors [
Spencer 2018, 288–289].
[
Fellmayer 2020] stresses the significance of
reflexivity in coping with this asymmetry by acknowledging
one's privilege and agency in benefiting from an inequitable
society, which impedes meaningful disruption. Therefore, our
focal point was to create a transformative educational
experience for their students through digital tools in the
framework established in the field of critical digital
pedagogy during the pandemic.
Critical digital pedagogy is characterized by a deep engagement
with the use of tools and technologies, while encouraging
students to question and reflect on those same tools and
methods [
Stommel et al. 2020b]. This approach
represents an expansion of the work of Paulo Freire, a
Brazilian educator who criticized educational institutions
for their tendency to silence or marginalize dissenting
voices in his seminal work
Pedagogy of the
Oppressed [
Freire 2000] and was exiled for his views,
being deeply committed to rethinking education and
advocating for more inclusive and equitable learning
environments. Critical digital pedagogy seeks to dismantle
impediments to learning. It argues that it is especially
fruitful to probe the ground and identify the gap between
theory and practice, but of course, it does not suggest that
there are easy answers to the challenges of remote learning.
While it can be helpful, it must be employed thoughtfully to
be effective. Stommel, Friend, and Morris state that:
The word “pedagogy,” as we use it, defines the work of education
at the intersection of theory and practice — the act of
teaching that derives from reflection and which inspires
reflection again. Pedagogy is both where “critical” and
“digital” terminate, and also the whole terrain of teaching. [Stommel et al. 2020b]
The triad “critical,” “digital,” and “pedagogical” must be kept
without privileging “digital” at the expense of “critical”
or of “pedagogy.” Suppose one only emphasizes the critical
aspect of teaching. In that case, there is a risk of
reducing it to a mere instrument, relegating the task of
reflecting on teaching to the humanities and separating
critical thinking from STEM fields, for instance. This
narrow approach not only limits the potential impact of
critical work, but also underestimates the vast array of
teaching and learning activities that require criticality
and a commitment to dismantling institutional or societal
obstacles to learning [
Stommel et al. 2020b]. However, the ideal
process of dismantling barriers to learning has been further
complicated by the challenges that have arisen during the
pandemic period, which have added new layers of complexity
to a pre-existing multifaceted landscape to let students
take ownership of their learning and promote freedom in the
classroom.
Effecting this is not necessarily easy, as Maha Bali argues in
the same collection [
Bali 2020], suggesting it is too easy to focus on
theory and not enough on praxis. As she claims of her
teaching context at the American University of Cairo:
“[C]ritical pedagogy [...] is not about knowing how to do
everything right or getting it right the first time, or
every time. It is about putting faith in our learners to
take control of their learning and teach us, each other, and
themselves in the process” [
Bali 2020]. Essentially, this learning
approach is based on the fact that she does not “make
everything
expliciton the first
day,” stating the importance of “learning from each other”
and having “flexible and negotiable” syllabi, as well as
“the importance of dialogue and talk about respectful
disagreement and the importance of class participation” to
continuing to “explore the dungeon” in an autonomous manner
([
Bali 2020] emphasis in the original)
Moving by these premises, we think that digital technologies
are an ideal means to promote student autonomy, as they
provide a toolkit for students to navigate the learning
process independently. This idea is further echoed by Cathy
N. Davidson’s suggestion to structure a “student-centered
class” that utilizes technology to the extent desired by the
instructor, which allows the instructor to maintain control
while also empowering students to take an active role in
service of their pedagogical needs at the same time
fostering a dynamic and rewarding learning environment that
is flexible and effective [
Davidson 2020].
Pete Rorabaugh (2020) draws from the idea that teaching is a
moral act with significant implications for educators,
including the ethical dimension, to argue that a critical
approach to pedagogy is consistent with the goals of a
digitally-infused curriculum because digital culture offers
that digital tools have the potential to empower students in
the digital sphere by providing them with new opportunities
for human connectivity and enabling them to refocus on how
power works in the classroom:
Digital tools offer the opportunity to refocus how power works in
the classroom. In its evolution from passive consumption to
critical production — from the cult of the expert to a
culture of collaboration — the critical and digital
classroom emerges as a site of intellectual and moral
agency. [Rorabaugh 2020]
In Rorabaugh’s view, critical digital pedagogies aim to disrupt
the conventional hierarchical structure of the classroom,
allowing students to take charge of their learning and play
an active role in their education. There is a moral
obligation to engage learners in a democratic discovery of
their own empowerment. By utilizing digital tools, students
are given the opportunity to interact and collaborate with
co-learners across various platforms on the internet.
However, this kind of learning environment requires a
critical pedagogue who is knowledgeable and skilled in
selecting appropriate tools and activities and can blend
them with an interactive learning community.
For us, the pandemic served as a catalyst for exploring new
approaches to teaching and learning that prioritize critical
thinking, student-centredness, and the thoughtful use of
digital tools. Through the practical application of these
principles, we have been able to create a new kind of
classroom environment that is responsive to the
post-pandemic needs and realities of our students, and that
fosters engagement, collaboration, and meaningful learning
experiences. As we continue to navigate the ongoing
challenges presented by the pandemic and beyond, these
principles will continue to guide our work as educators and
serve as a foundation for innovative and effective
pedagogical practices.
Conclusion
The implementation of Textual Communities as an environment to
teach paleography proved to be advantageous from various
perspectives. It is true that if we were ever to face a
situation similar to that of March 2020 again, we would be
able to move into online teaching almost effortlessly.
However, using an online environment as a teaching resource
has other advantages. Mainly, this environment enables
students to find their own work rhythm.
Because paleography is a skill that improves with practice, it is
not uncommon for beginners to experience significant
difficulty and advance at what might seem a slow pace. As
students practice, they are likely to work more efficiently
and accurately. By using Textual Communities, our students
can manage their time in a way that suits their personal
circumstances. For example, someone might start a
transcription during the allocated class period but not be
able to finish it. At home, they can access the system and
work at convenient times with each change recorded in the
versioning component. As the students became familiar with
Textual Communities, they were able to make arrangements for
collaboration with others and create a system of peer
evaluation and support to help each other become more
accurate and achieve better results. Fostering this
cooperative spirit led to the growth of the parties
involved, not only in the study of paleography but also in
their development as researchers and individuals.
It is certainly the case that the pandemic induced an
acceleration in the usage of digital technologies in
teaching and learning. While their initial adoption during
the pandemic may have been driven by necessity, the tools’
effectiveness in enhancing the learning experience can still
be effective in the post-pandemic period, as we have
demonstrated in our paper. The potential for innovation and
renovation implicit in many arguments regarding the digital
turn during the pandemic permeates initiatives such as ours.
In seeing the pandemic as an opportunity to encourage
educators to creatively utilize available resources, we
transformed the challenge into an occasion for reorganizing
the classroom space into a hybrid environment. The
uncertainties of a post-pandemic world have compelled us to
be more imaginative and resourceful, prompting us in ways we
might not have considered before. We have been reminded that
we can adapt successfully and find new ways to engage our
students with our subject while giving them a sense of
independence and freedom.
Acknowledgments
The authors thank Victoria Simmons for contributing a reflection
on classroom-based transcription practices, which has been
included in this article, which helped shape our
understanding of the students’ perspective. We also thank
the referees and editors at DHQ for their thoughtful
comments and recommendations on an earlier draft of this
article.
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