Tag: education

Three Times and Still Surprised

A few weeks ago, I received a phone call from Clark College Vice President of Instruction Dr. Terry Brown. At the beginning of the call, he first informed me that I had not been selected for a sabbatical I had applied for, but then told me he had some good news. During that conversation, I learned that I had been selected to receive the Clark College Exceptional Faculty Award. The recognition will also be shared during the graduation ceremonies in June and publicly announced on the Clark College website during Opening Week events this fall.

I was also honored to be one of seven faculty members receiving the award this year, and I want to congratulate the other six recipients. There are so many talented and dedicated people doing incredible work across this college, and I’m proud to be included alongside them.

What makes this especially meaningful to me is that this is now the third time I’ve received the award during my years at Clark College.

When I first came to Clark College in 2013 after many years working in industry, I never imagined something like this would happen once, let alone three times. Teaching has been one of the most meaningful chapters of my life. Exhausting at times? Absolutely. Frustrating sometimes? Of course. But also rewarding in ways that are difficult to explain unless you’ve worked closely with students and watched them slowly build their confidence.

I’ve always tried to bring a real-world perspective into the classroom. Technology changes fast. Sometimes faster than education can keep up with. I want students to see the reality of the field they are entering, not a cleaned-up version. That means learning technical skills, but also learning how to adapt, communicate, collaborate, solve problems, and keep learning when the tools inevitably change again next year.

Accessibility has also been a huge part of my teaching. As someone who is legally blind, I have never found this theoretical for me. It’s part of my daily life, and I’ve worked hard to make it a foundation of our Web Development program at Clark College.

And then there’s AI, which is obviously the elephant in the room right now.

I honestly don’t know exactly what the future holds for two-year Web Development programs. I think anybody claiming they fully know is probably fooling themselves a bit. The technology world is shifting incredibly fast right now, and higher education is trying to figure out where it fits in. Maybe in the future, it will become less a traditional web development degree and more an AI-first program centered on design, development, accessibility, problem-solving, and human-centered technology. I think we’re already starting to see that shift happen.

What I do know is that students still need guidance, mentorship, honesty, and people willing to help them navigate uncertainty.

What means the most to me about this award is knowing that students are part of the nomination process. That matters to me more than I can probably put into words.

To my students, past and present, thank you. Thank you for trusting me, pushing me, challenging me, making me laugh, and occasionally putting up with my long stories and stubbornness.

And to my colleagues across Clark College, thank you as well. None of us does this work alone. I’ve been fortunate to work with incredibly thoughtful and supportive people over the years, and I’ve learned a great deal from all of you.

I also want to acknowledge many of my friends who may be reading this. A lot of you have helped shape who I am in ways you probably don’t even realize. Some of you are friendships I’ve kept since childhood, while others came from previous jobs, industry work, organizations, and different chapters of my life over the years. Some of you have been there through career changes, personal struggles, difficult moments, successes, losses, long conversations, random technology debates, music discussions, and all the twists and turns life throws at people over the years. All of that matters more than people sometimes say out loud.

And finally, to my family, including my wife Gayle and my parents, thank you for helping shape the person I am today. Your support, patience, honesty, and encouragement carried me through more than you probably realize.

I’m deeply grateful for all of it.

Winter Quarter, Full Classrooms, and Finding the Rhythm Again

The Winter 2026 quarter is in the books.

For the first time since COVID, I was back teaching full-time in person. This quarter, I taught Intro to Programming and Problem Solving (CS50P), PHP with SQL 1, and Web Interface Design. Walking back into full classrooms again felt good. There is something about hearing students talk before class starts, seeing whiteboards filled, watching students help each other, and feeling the energy in the room that you simply cannot recreate online.

I’ll be honest, though. Teaching full-time in person really drains you. There’s something about it that feels like being part of an interactive educational show. You’re on your feet, constantly moving, reading the room, trying to keep students interested, answering questions, shifting gears, and making sure no one gets left behind. That gets harder with age, and by the end of some days, I definitely feel it.

Attendance was close to 100% throughout the quarter. Participation counts for 30% of the grade, which certainly helps, but students still had to choose to show up, be engaged, ask questions, contribute, and work with each other. They did, and that meant a lot. College works better when people are actually in the room together.

There were some struggles, too. One of the software development tools we needed was not accessible in our classrooms, so students had to spend the first 15 to 20 minutes of class installing it on their own devices before we could even begin. That became an unexpected routine for a while. It was frustrating, and it took away valuable class time. That is probably a story for another day.

Students today are different from those they were six years ago. Their confidence has changed. Their communication styles have evolved. Their attention spans are shorter. The world has shaped them differently. However, one thing remains the same: students still seek connection, support, structure, encouragement, and someone who believes in them.

This quarter reminded me why I still love teaching. There is something special about a full classroom, pizza days, rubber ducks on tables, group work, inside jokes, and the quiet student who finally raises their hand for the first time.

I am grateful for all of it.

And thank you to Juniper, Katie, Theo, Tiffany, Chef Earl, Niira, Fellene, Robert, Tom, Zach, Karl, Adam, Lucy, David, Rongxin, and, of course, Gayle for helping make the quarter a success.

Bringing it Back to the Classroom

Today, my classes, which usually meet on Zoom, gathered in person. And wow, what a difference. You can read the room in ways you simply can’t through a screen. You see confusion, curiosity, lightbulbs flicking on, and you can adjust right there in real time. When students are right in front of you, you can sense when something isn’t clicking and pivot immediately. That kind of feedback loop makes teaching feel alive again.

After today, I’m convinced. Starting this winter, I’ll be bringing my courses back to being fully in person. I’ll still have a few online sections, but not many. My goal is to get them all back to the classroom eventually. There’s an energy and rhythm that come from being together that technology can’t replicate.

Because it was our first in-person class in a while, I handed out rubber ducks to each student. They’re part of how I teach coding, a symbol of debugging, reflection, and patience. Watching students line them up on their laptops made me grin. It reminded me that learning works best when it’s hands-on, a little playful, and shared with others.

To top it off, my morning class enjoyed cookies, pumpkin loaf, and scones from the Clark College bakery. For a moment, the room felt like a true community again, warm, curious, and connected.

There’s also an honesty to being in a physical classroom. You can’t hide behind AI or a screen. You have to show up, think on your feet, and engage. That’s where the real learning happens. And yes, I’m still an AI proponent. My students use it, and I teach them how to use it responsibly. However, AI doesn’t replace the value of showing up, questioning ideas, or learning face-to-face.

Technology has its place, but the best learning still happens when we share the same energy, the same attention, and the same spark that only real presence can create.

After five hours of what can only be described as interactive educational theater, I’m wiped. But in the best possible way.

Fellow educators, have you experienced this difference as well?

When the World Is Changing Fast, College Moves Slow

More from Bruce’s Higher Education files:

In many industries today, change is constant. New tools emerge, new skills are needed, and job roles are redefined.

But in colleges? We form a committee. We write a proposal. We revise it. Then we wait.

And wait.

It can take years to create a new degree program. Not just a course, but an entire program.

Part of the delay is internal, but a big part comes from state-level approvals and accreditation bodies that move slowly. Their standards matter, but their processes were built for a different era.

Meanwhile, the world keeps moving. Cybersecurity threats evolve daily, and new surgical technologies are introduced regularly. Digital media, health care, skilled trades, AI, sustainability—none of these fields stand still.

The industry may have changed direction when a new program is approved, staffed, and launched.

This is not just an education issue. It is a workforce issue. Students end up with outdated skills. Employers struggle to find job-ready applicants. And the public wonders why college still feels out of sync with real life.

The job market is tough right now. Even highly motivated graduates are struggling to land junior roles. Companies want experience, so colleges must provide relevant, current, and adaptable training.

Career-connected learning is more important than ever. Real-world experiences, industry-informed curriculum, and partnerships that help students apply what they learn are no longer optional but essential.

We have done good work. Guided Pathways was created to help students stay on track, complete their programs, and move into meaningful careers. It was a step in the right direction. However, even that model is under pressure when we cannot build and adapt programs quickly enough to meet changing demands.

We need a new model: flexible, modular programs that can evolve with the world. These programs let us pivot based on what is happening in the workforce, our communities, and the global economy.

I will be honest. I do not have a solution. This is going to be hard. Most of us at community colleges run small programs. When you try to offer more options, enrollment gets spread too thin. Some classes fill up, and others may get canceled.

But the bigger issue is this. We are trying to prepare students for a fast-changing world using systems not built for speed (cue the Stray Cats).

If we do not start talking about this seriously, we will continue to send students into a world we did not equip them for.

#HigherEd #CommunityCollege #CareerConnectedLearning #WorkforceDevelopment #EducationReform #GuidedPathways #FutureOfWork

Tenure Made Me a Worse Professor (But I’m Taking It Back)

Today, May 24, marks my second anniversary of tenure. And I’ve got a confession. Tenure made me a worse professor.

Not worse in the “I don’t care anymore” sense. I still show up. I still teach my heart out. I still hand out pizza and rubber ducks, as if they were course materials. But something shifted during that long, grueling tenure process and hasn’t entirely returned.

The tenure process trains you to be careful. You learn to document everything, justify everything, and reflect on everything until your teaching feels more like a performance than a practice. You stop experimenting because experiments might not look great on paper. You stop taking risks because risks don’t always make for clean committee reports.

And if you’re not careful, you start teaching like someone is always watching. Because for a while, someone is.

That’s what happened to me. I slowly backed away from the version of myself who took bold swings and tried weird ideas. I started playing it safe, saying no to chaos and yes to control. I polished everything, trimmed the messy parts, and stopped leaning into the stuff that made my teaching mine.

But here’s the thing. I’m two years in now. I’ve got the stability. The security. The keys to the castle.

And I’m done playing small.

I want the pre-tenure Bruce back, who did things that made students laugh, think, and engage. The one who brought music into lessons. The one who asked, “What if?” instead of “Will this fit in my tenure binder?” The one who knew learning is supposed to be messy, unpredictable, and sometimes a little loud.

If tenure turned down your volume, I hear you. If it made you cautious, you’re not alone. But now that we’re here, we can choose how we show up again.

I’m choosing to take it back, one student, one duck, one slightly chaotic lesson at a time.

Let’s go.

Bruce Elgort believes…

  • We are our best selves when challenged.
  • Students gain far more from correcting their own answers than from being corrected by the instructor.
  • Learning to learn will help all students pass all their class, and develop their critical thinking skills.
  • All students should pass this class, and the next, and the next.
  • He is not an answer key.
  • If he were to answer “Is this correct?” questions from students, then students will quickly get the message that they cannot trust their own self-assessment skills. This is poor training for success on quizzes, exams, and especially the real world, where there are no answer keys.
  • Learning is slow, takes time and effort.
  • Asking questions is the best way to help yourself, and your group.
  • Knowing why your answer is right is just as important as the answer itself.
  • Answers are best said by students.
  • Instruction should be kept simple.
  • Reflection is the only way to see our larger truths.
  • Activities should be completed by the instructor multiple times.

Yeah, this…

This conversation took place late last night on Slack:

Student: Bruce I see you the Sublime Text editor.

Bruce: I have tried many of them out and prefer Sublime.

Student: I want to be a professional web developer one day. I also have some questions about the assignment that’s due tomorrow.

Bruce: A professional web developer wouldn’t start a project the day before it was due.

Student: Only the good pros do.

Bruce: It better be perfect then.