How to Manage Risks Associated with a Microlearning Initiative
Microlearning has become an increasingly popular method of training and development in organizations. It involves delivering content in small, easily digestible chunks, which can be consumed quickly and conveniently. This approach aligns well with the modern workforce's preference for flexible, on-the-go learning. However, like any initiative, microlearning comes with its own set of risks. Effectively managing these risks is crucial to ensuring the success of a microlearning initiative. This article explores the potential risks associated with microlearning and offers strategies for mitigating them.
Understanding Microlearning
Before diving into risk management, it's essential to understand what microlearning entails. Microlearning delivers training content in short, focused segments, typically lasting between three to ten minutes. These segments can take various forms, including videos, quizzes, infographics, podcasts, and interactive modules. The primary benefits of microlearning are its flexibility, accessibility, and the ability to cater to the learning needs of a diverse workforce.
Identifying Risks in a Microlearning Initiative
1. Content Overload
One of the main risks associated with microlearning is content overload. While microlearning aims to break down information into manageable pieces, there is a danger of overwhelming learners with too many segments. If not carefully managed, the sheer volume of content can lead to cognitive overload, reducing the effectiveness of the training.
2. Lack of Depth
Microlearning focuses on brevity and conciseness, which can sometimes result in a lack of depth in the training material. Complex topics may require more comprehensive coverage than what microlearning segments can provide. This risk can lead to insufficient understanding of critical concepts, affecting the overall learning outcomes.
3. Inconsistent Quality
With microlearning, there is often a reliance on multiple content creators, which can lead to inconsistencies in the quality of the training materials. Variations in presentation style, accuracy, and instructional design can confuse learners and undermine the initiative's effectiveness.
4. Technical Issues
Microlearning is heavily reliant on technology. Issues such as platform compatibility, software glitches, and internet connectivity problems can disrupt the learning experience. These technical issues can cause frustration among learners and hinder the adoption of the microlearning program.
5. Engagement Challenges
Keeping learners engaged with microlearning content can be challenging. The short duration of microlearning segments requires them to be highly engaging and interactive to maintain learner interest. If the content fails to captivate the audience, learners may disengage, resulting in low completion rates and poor knowledge retention.
6. Measuring Effectiveness
Evaluating the effectiveness of a microlearning initiative can be complex. Traditional metrics such as test scores and completion rates may not fully capture the impact of microlearning on performance and skill development. Without robust evaluation methods, it becomes difficult to demonstrate the return on investment (ROI) of the microlearning initiative.
Strategies for Managing Risks
1. Curate and Prioritize Content
To avoid content overload, organizations should curate and prioritize the microlearning content carefully. Focus on delivering the most critical and relevant information first. Implement a structured learning path that guides learners through the material in a logical sequence. This approach helps prevent cognitive overload and ensures that learners can absorb and retain the essential concepts.
2. Balance Breadth and Depth
While microlearning segments should be concise, it's essential to balance breadth and depth. For complex topics, consider using a combination of microlearning and other training methods, such as in-depth workshops or comprehensive e-learning courses. This hybrid approach allows learners to gain a thorough understanding of intricate subjects while benefiting from the flexibility of microlearning.
3. Maintain Consistent Quality
To address the risk of inconsistent quality, establish clear guidelines and standards for content creation. Provide training and support for content creators to ensure they adhere to these standards. Regularly review and update the training materials to maintain accuracy and relevance. Consistency in quality helps build trust and credibility in the microlearning initiative.
4. Ensure Technical Reliability
Invest in reliable technology platforms that support microlearning delivery. Conduct thorough testing to identify and resolve potential technical issues before launching the initiative. Provide technical support to learners to assist with any problems they may encounter. Ensuring a smooth and seamless technical experience is vital for the success of a microlearning program.
5. Enhance Engagement
To keep learners engaged, incorporate interactive and multimedia elements into the microlearning content. Use gamification techniques, such as quizzes, badges, and leaderboards, to motivate learners. Personalize the learning experience by tailoring content to individual preferences and needs. Engaging content fosters better retention and application of knowledge.
6. Implement Robust Evaluation Methods
Develop robust evaluation methods to measure the effectiveness of the microlearning initiative. Use a combination of quantitative and qualitative metrics to assess learning outcomes. Track learner progress, completion rates, and performance improvements. Collect feedback from learners to identify areas for improvement. Demonstrating the impact of microlearning on performance and business goals helps justify the investment.
7. Foster a Learning Culture
Creating a supportive learning culture within the organization is crucial for the success of any training initiative. Encourage continuous learning by promoting the benefits of microlearning. Provide opportunities for learners to apply their knowledge in real-world scenarios. Recognize and reward employees who actively engage in the microlearning program. A positive learning culture enhances motivation and engagement.
Conclusion
Microlearning offers numerous benefits for modern organizations, but it also comes with its own set of risks. By understanding and proactively managing these risks, organizations can maximize the effectiveness of their microlearning initiatives. Curating and prioritizing content, balancing breadth and depth, maintaining consistent quality, ensuring technical reliability, enhancing engagement, implementing robust evaluation methods, and fostering a learning culture are essential strategies for mitigating risks. With careful planning and execution, microlearning can be a powerful tool for driving continuous learning and development in the workplace.
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Health and Hybrids (XXIV)👽👻💚
[I can't remember the original prompt posters for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]
🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.
💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)
Where we last left off... PHYSICAL!! THERAPY!! LET'S GET TO IT!! *80s aerobics music is piped in from nowhere* Also Flash numbero two was there.
Trigger warnings for this story: body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) | my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.
💚👻👽👻💚
“Green one,” the quickfast one says. The masked teenager groans.
Danny looks down at his cards. He’s got a green eight. He drops the card onto the pile, and waits, perfectly aware that the girl is only down to her last two cards. The card flutters vaguely toward the pile on Danny’s bed cot.
He’s sitting with his legs crossed now, he admires. Holy crap. This is what dreams are made of.
“Bruce two,” the teen in the leather jacket demands, slapping down a—Oh, it’s a green 2+ card. It’s take two. Right.
The blonde girl scoffs, but her two cards bloat back up to four. Quickly though, with a little shuffling, the four become three with a green three slapped down on top of the deck.
Everyone is down to only a three or four cards. Danny is sweating through his medical issue tee and shorts.
Danny has not won a single game yet.
Danny really wants to win.
The masked teen (why is he wearing a face mask?? Like…over his eyes?? Not even his mouth??) opens with a new complication: a red three.
The red-haired quick-kid flicks a wild card plus four down with a smirk, pleased to make this Danny’s problem. “Blue, cnytte four!”
Okay, so what is cnytte?? Danny just got used to ‘take’. What is this new synonym. Why is everyone determined to hurt him like this. Why couldn’t these people just use Esperanto.
Whatever. Danny bites his lip and pulls the trigger: wild card plus four. He quickly points to the leather-jacket teen. “R-red. Br-take eight.”
The kid splutters. “Hey! That’s not the riht!!”
That is for sure how he and Jazz used to play it in after-school. The other kids never complained. “Is.”
“No, it’s not??”
Danny sticks his tongue out. The leather-jacket wearer squawks theatrically; it takes the mask-wearing kid thirty seconds to find the official pdf of the rules of UNO, and a new argument is off to the races.
“Atredde!!” the teen demands, snatching the phone out of the masked teen’s hands to show Danny the screen. “Þær, there!!”
“I can’t read,” Danny points out cheerfully. He can read some things, sure, but not when he refuses to look at the phone.
The phone gets closer and closer to Danny’s face, and Danny looks anywhere else—at the ceiling, the floor, and his bed, all without letting the guy point it out to him.
“Atredde,” the guy demands, the glass of his screen mashed against Danny’s cheek. Danny struggles not to laugh. “Atredde, atreddeatreddelooklooklook, you wearg—“
“No aðs, no aðs!!” the only girl of the group yelps, grabbing the spare pillow from underneath herself to start beating him with. Danny’s assailant shrieks. “Do you want to get in trouble with Wonder Woman?!”
“Wonder Woman wolde take my sid!” the teen hollers. Danny ponders if biting him would solve anything for all of two seconds before the doors smack open.
Everyone looks at Diana. Diana looks at everyone.
“I win!” Danny cheerfully announces, and sets off more yelling.
Danny does not, in fact, win anything other than a late lunch. Still, it is enough that he won, even if he has to sit through a gentle, brow-raised scolding as the nurse cleans his port and replaces his stomach-hole bag.
Lunch is a smoothie with powered vitamins and some pain medication mixed in. Life goes on.
For the first time, though, Danny doesn’t eat lunch alone; since he can, like, keep his bed relatively clean now that he isn’t constantly leaking ectoplasm everywhere, there are four teenagers crammed onto his bed with sandwiches, wraps, and sodas of their own. Danny can phonetically pronounce the brands on the side of the can, he notices. He has no idea what they mean, but sometimes the girl in the blonde bob and the too-fast teen will ask him to pronounce them, and they only snicker sometimes.
The teen in the mask makes a noise. “I want a lið. Wha want anything?”
“Nah,” No,” “Na þancs,” all echo.
Danny sucks on his smoothie straw. It tastes like bananas today. Ew; potassium. “What is… lið?”
The teen holds up a can of soda in his ungloved hand. Danny makes a face. He’d love a Mountainous Dunk right now, but gas in his bag…eugh. More trouble than it’s worth.
“No.”
The teen shoots him a pair of finger guns and darts out the door, leaving the rest of them behind to argue over UNO rules in at least two languages and without any expectation of resolving the issue.
Danny peaceably polishes off his smoothie. He’ll have to get the back done again, but eh. As long as no one’s directly looking at the process while it’s going on, he doesn’t super care whether or not anyone’s in the room, per se? Is that weird? Is this weird??
It’s probably weird. But also. Danny has fuzzy memories of roaming the building and leaking goo the entire time he was out and about, so… Suck it, he can do what he wants! He’s sick!! And maybe even dying??
“What is þæt andwlita??” the blonde girl asks, only for the quick-fast teen to poke Danny in what can be assumed to be a grumpy expression. Danny feigns a bite just to be mean. The other teens don’t even pretend to think it’s a threat—the blonde even laughs.
The teenager comes back and sits on Danny’s bed again, mattress barely bouncing as he makes himself comfy. It takes Danny a second to realize that he didn’t come back empty-handed, though—but instead of sodas, the guy brought back a tablet and a weird expression under his mask.
“…Look,” the teen finally says, and flips the tablet onto his lap so that the screen is visible. The teen clicks on a browser, and types in a word Danny isn’t familiar with, and pulls up a stock photo straight out of a photo frame Danny could buy at the craft store. He points to the smiling woman, the man, and the kid in the picture. “Moder. Fæder. Dohtor.”
Danny glances at the photo, and then at the teen. …Okay…?
The teenager bites his lip, and picks a new photo. This one has two men and a child, but it was basically the same. He points to each person as he named them: “Fæder and fæder, and sunu.”
Danny looks at the photo. He looks at the teenager. He looks at the photo again, and the masked teen backs out of the photo he onscreen to pick another one—with a woman and a man crouched around three kids and a dog.
“Moder. Father. Daughter. Daughter. Son.”
Realization breaks over Danny—oh. These are supposed to be families. These are family titles. Huh.
Danny scrutinizes the image. They…you know. They look happy. Danny used to…
…Mom, and…
It hurts too much to look at the photo for long. He knows that it’s fake, and he knows that models just get hired for show, but even the imaginary families hurt. Happy, loving people exist out there in the world.
Danny was in a box. Danny was in a box.
Danny—
The teen makes another noise, and Danny drags his focus out of his melancholy doom spiral with every tooth and claw. He manages. Barely. The masked teenager switches over to a drawing app and pops a tablet pen out of—nowhere, actually? Where did that come from??
The teen hems and he haws and he fills out a stick figure with some red and black clothing details—and a mask, and a bowl cut, which is how Danny figures out it’s a scrappy little self-portrait. It doesn’t look at all like the oversized tee tucked into the teen’s short shorts, but you know, whatever.
Next to him, the dude draws a giant, brick-wall-broad, no-eyed, man-shaped blob with upright pointed ears.
It’s. Uh. It’s sure…something.
“Son,” the teen labels himself, and then draws an arrow to the giant, colorless blob. “Father.”
…Danny squints. Is that normal? To have a huge hulking entity-dad, and then have a short, shrimpy-looking teen waif?
Like you, imaginary Jazz interrupts, since he was thinking about her.
He carefully bats the thought away before it can make him cry.
“My father,” the teenager adds, since Danny probably looks like he’s mostly paying attention. “Stincende.” And then the guy draws a bunch of stink lines coming off of him, just to prove a point.
Danny chokes more than he laughs. The teen’s friends laugh outright, teasing with words that are a little too quick for Danny to parse and snickering under their breath. The masked teen smiles quietly.
“So mean,” the teen in the leather jacket declares, cackling mercilessly. The orange-haired teenager wheezes breathlessly.
“Stincende hlaford of the trask,” the teenager adds mildly, cheerfully without mercy. “Very boring. Very stif. Very grimm.”
Okay, so some of those words were definitely straight-up cognates. Mr. Lancer gave Danny a C in English last semester, but Danny’s going to guess that, based on how their language is pretty much entirely similar, that the stink lines are more of a metaphor than anything.
“Gross,” Danny decides. He’s not sure if the word actually means gross or if it’s more of a medical-trash-and-waste-disposal sort of word, but his audience of four snicker and bump his shoulder and that’s good enough.
“Mmhmm,” the masked teen agrees. He clicks on an eraser tool, enlarges it, and wipes himself clean off the image. In his place, he puts a little white-haired figure in a white medical gown.
…Oh.
Between them, the artist puts speech bubbles, giving both the drawn Danny equal part in the imaginary conversation.
“Talking,” the teenager says without looking at Danny. Eventually, when the speech bubbles are done, he lifts his head. “Yes? No?”
…Is this a request? Is this a demand? Danny fists the sheets between shaking fingers. Nowadays, they always shake at least a little. There are no perfectly still days.
“Have to?” Danny asks, hesitant. It’s a common enough clarifier to use when he doesn’t want to do something. They try to explain what they can to him here, but the language barrier is thick and impenetrable in many places.
“No. He just wants to.”
“…Why?”
The masked teen frowns. He takes the tablet back from his lap and begins to draw something way more complex.
Everyone else slowly works on their food, but the masked teen doesn’t return until he has, from what Danny can tell, a thickly complicated organizational tree chart.
He recognizes a few headshot photos in the middle. The green guy. The human-looking guy in red that Danny does PT with sometimes.
Towards the bottom are the teenagers—both ones Danny does and doesn’t recognize, and some of the teens around him are photographed in different hats and outfits and masks. The quick-fast-red-haired teenager Danny’s come to recognize used to have shorter hair, apparently? Now it’s down to the teen’s neck. Meanwhile, the blonde girl’s got a haircut; her new look has a shaved undercut and a body too short to prop back up into her photographed pigtails.
The guy in the leather jacket looks the same.
…Danny holds up the tablet to compare to the teenager himself, who kindly poses the same way as he does in the picture in the same way: suns out, guns out. Yep. That’s him alright.
At the top of the organizational tree are three people—a dark-haired guy who Danny’s seen in passing, Diana, who is both a superhero and a super-minder, and some scary lookin’ dude who looks exactly like the doodle Danny just saw absolutely smothered in stink lines.
The tablet falls out of Danny’s hands. He’s not mad or anything, but he tends to drop stuff when holding it becomes too much of a burden.
So.
The masked teen’s dad, is, like…one of several bosses. One boss is the person watching Danny at all times, which is…weird. Danny isn’t sure he warrants, like, constant security from a high-ranking super-someone. He mostly just sits around all day. Sometimes he gets his stretches in. Sometimes he gets wheeled out to look at the stars, and then he just…sits some more.
Danny shifts in his seat. So maybe he. Maybe…
…Okay, so even if talking isn’t good, per se, at least maybe he’ll figure something out? Maybe?
Like. Maybe he’ll be able to figure out, like…why he’s here. Why he’s in space. Why they’re taking care of him.
Danny doesn’t look forward to talking. But it’s. Fine.
Probably.
He nods.
“…Yes?” the teen asks again, double confirming that this is what Danny wants. Danny doesn’t want this, but he wants answers, so he nods again, more firmly. But still. Staring. At the sheets underneath him.
“Okay.” The teen opens up a messaging app, and types something into the address bar. “Now? Or later?”
“Later.” Danny’s got to rest and digest lunch first.
“Okay.” The teen types into the tablet with the little pencil. Danny sees verbatim what the masked teen wrote when he turns it around: very literally, “Yes,” and “Later.”
There’s a little spot for Danny to sign his name. The teenager gives Danny his pen.
…Danny just hits the send button and is done with it.
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He Listens
Read on AO3!
A/N: The hopeless romantic in me wanted to write a thing based on a sequence in season 3 of Bridgerton that I absolutely loved. I just think it's beautiful when someone listens to your opinion to the point of gifting you something that's perfect from that opinion.
--
Mad strolled down the street, picking at the hem of his shirt while looking through the store windows. His thoughts were interrupted by the collision of himself into someone, and he muttered apologies as he glanced up to see who he’d walked into.
“Mare,” His cheeks flushed as he looked into the amused face of the lecturer, smiling kindly as he held Mad’s shoulders to steady him. “H-Hello.”
“Hey, Mad,” Mare replied, brushing off Mad’s shoulders before stepping back, pointing a thumb behind him with a crooked smile. “How do you like the music?” Tucked under one arm was a satchel, treated leather with a gold clasp, the same one Mad had bought him as a joke gift years ago.
Mad tilted his head in confusion before he registered the busker playing an accordion down the street, out of tune and too fast for Mad to properly process. Biting his lip, Mad turned his attention back to Mare, taking a deep breath before answering.
“The tempo isn’t right. They’re playing too fast for anyone to appreciate the music, and the tune isn’t right. For that instrument, the song should be played in a B Major scale, but the musician is playing it in C. There isn’t enough time for the tune to surround you before they’re on to the next bar.” His flush darkened when he realised he’d been rambling, turning away from Mare as he scratched the back of his neck.
“Interesting. I have to go,” Mare stated, touching Mad’s shoulder lightly before walking away, leaving Mad to marinate in embarrassment before deciding to walk home.
----
“Wait, tell me again. Mare just… left?” Jackie asked around a mouthful of his sandwich, popping up behind the couch Mad had flopped onto. “Like, no proper goodbye or anything?”
“He touched my shoulder,” Mad mumbled, looking at Jackie with an expression that could only be described as ‘pitiful’. “Said he had to go, and I just… let him.” Grabbing a cushion, he pressed it over his face before screaming into it, sounding utterly broken.
“Maybe he was running late,” Jackie suggested, leaping over the back of the couch to sit at Mad’s feet, laying a reassuring hand on his ankle. “He’s a teacher, right? He probably had a class or something. I’m sure he’ll call you soon.”
“Doubt it,” Mad shot down, lowering the cushion. “I went on a tangent. Not the short types that you tell me aren’t bad, but one of those where I point out all the issues with something. He’s not going to talk to me ever again. Idiot,” he finished with a smack to his forehead, groaning at the pain that registered.
“Alright,” Jackie patted Mad’s ankle before effortlessly turning him so they were sitting face-to-face. “Give it until the end of the week. If Mare doesn’t speak to you by then, I’ll watch those space documentaries you’ve been asking to watch. If he talks to you, you don’t get to feel bad about yourself for a month.”
----
As Mad’s luck would have it, Jackie won the deal. Mare knocked on the door of his and Jackie’s shared apartment at the end of the week, bright yet apologetic smiles and holding a violin case. Mad let him in with a furrowed brow, offering him a coffee before sitting in the seat opposite him.
“I’m sorry I rushed off the other day,” Mare began, carefully taking the violin out of its case. “After what you’d said, I wanted to make sure I did this right, and I couldn’t risk forgetting a single thing you’d pointed out.” Standing, Mare set the violin on his shoulder, giving Mad a gentle smile before beginning to play.
At first, Mad was confused, but then he began to recognise the tune, and his cheeks flushed. Every detail Mad had pointed out, every flaw in the busker’s performance, Mare had rectified and was now performing for him. Mad closed his eyes, letting the music wash over him as Mare continued to play.
It took a few moments after Mare had finished for Mad to open his eyes, looking at Mare with a dazed expression. Blinking slowly, he watched Mare pack the instrument away, startling when he sat beside Mad.
“You… played the song… exactly how I’d described it.” At a loss for words, Mad just stared at Mare, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. “Why?”
“Because you wanted to hear it played right,” Mare answered softly, “Because I wanted to see your face as you listen to the song played properly. I like watching you truly enjoy something.” He moved slowly, setting a hand on Mad’s knee before shifting closer, looking into Mad’s whiskey-gold eyes with a smile.
“I-I thought you were annoyed,” Mad mumbled, brushing his fingers over Mare’s hand on his knee, breath catching when Mare turned his hand to hold his. “People always get annoyed when I tell them things like that.”
“Mad,” Mare began, holding Mad’s hand tightly. “I’ll never be annoyed with you. I think you’re amazing. The greatest person I’ve ever known. I’m in love with you, I thought you knew that.” His teasing smile faded when he saw Mad’s eyes widen, moving to release his hand before Mad held tighter.
“Say that again.”
“I-I love you, Mad. I think I’ve always been in love with you,” Mare whispered, leaning forward as Mad’s lips parted slightly. “I use that satchel you bought me because it makes me feel like I’ve got you with me all the time. You’re perfect to me.”
The second Mad’s eyes darted down to Mare’s lips, he was being kissed, heart pounding in his chest as Mare’s lips pressed against his. Closing his eyes, he let Mare control the kiss, melting against him as his chest filled with warmth.
“Oh, good, you’re finally together. I was waiting for you to finally kiss. Mare, is there any way you can get Phantom to come over?” Jackie asked as he passed the living room, laughing when Mare threw a cushion at him before walking away.
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@iamvegorott @brokentimewatch @rattyboyisemo @dungeon-dragons-dragons
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