Remember To Press Record
This past Tuesday, I started teaching a course on Web Devolopment to people who consider themselves non-technical and "not computer people". My course is called Hello Interweb.
The first class went really well! We had six people there in person, and I fired up a Google+ Hangout for the friend who couldn't make the drive.
And I had a grand plan for this G+ Hangout: I would record it! You can do a "Hangout on Air", and the Hangout is recorded to YouTube. This would be great, I thought! Then people who didn't make it to the class in person would at least be able to catch up on it afterward.
But managing in-person participants is hard enough; trying to juggle a G+ Hangout along with it was crazy. The friend agreed. He couldn't hear much.
So I had a second class, entirely within a G+ Hangout, today. And it was great! Three people joined, and were surprised to learn they were being recorded but agreed to it and made the material super fun to go through. We created a wonderful learning material together!
A quick aside:
I remember holding video cameras when I was young, watching the world through a black & white peep hole (and later through a tiny color screen). "Are you filming me?" people would ask. And if they didn't know about the little red light, then you could tell them you weren't, even if you were. Because all that separated hard documentation from faulty memories was a small red button.
Just because you're holding a camera doesn't mean it's recording.
You might have to teach that to a child in a less-developed country, as you teach them to operate this incredible new technology, this incredible new opportunity in their hands.
And in the more-developed world, we all need to be taught simple lessons like that all the time. Because we're holding so many new opportunities for the first time ourselves.
It turns out that a Hangout On Air is not on air by default. You must press the small red "Start Broadcast" button (in the top right).
So alas! The wonderful class! The participants wore pirate hats and scuba gear and tiaras to act out the play, but you cannot see it! We were so proud of our performances, but our performances are forever only lowly ours; they will grow wavy like old glass and turn to dust with our neurons.
(Remember wavy glass? We're a dying breed.)
Don't worry, though, gentle reader. Though Week 1 would have been the best class to watch later, we'll capture Week 2 for sure. I know about the button now.
And next time I teach the course, I'll be sure to capture Week 1 down in a medium that moth & rust do not destroy. It'll be safe & sound on YouTube's immortal servers, preserved better than any yearbook for my grandchildren.