by Ethan Edwards, chief instructional strategist

A colleague alerted me to an interesting phenomenon unfolding in Wrenshall, MN—a small town a bit south of Duluth.  Like so many other towns throughout Minnesota and Wisconsin (probably other northern states, too; I’ve just seen them in Minnesota and Wisconsin), some burst of civic pride decades ago resulted in the installation of a large fiberglass deer in the city park.  Over the years, the deer had grown shabby and neglected--and ordinary.  It was, by-and-large, simply overlooked.  And although odd, the deer is by no means unique; some company actually manufactured them, so there are plenty around.

Last year a small group of local citizens endeavored to create variety and rekindle appreciation of the deer sculpture by proposing to paint it white.  Loosely inspired by the mythic white hart and white deer in both European and Native American folklore, but primarily interested in creating interest in an otherwise ordinary context (and also to promote a local film festival), the group made their proposal but met resistance from authorities.  The resistance was strong even though very little justification for it was offered other than a dogged determination that “Deer are supposed to be brown.”

The group prevailed by a narrow margin and painted the deer white.  And while reactions are mixed, there is at least an elevated interest and conversation about the deer (including a counter effort to paint it brown again).  The most satisfying apparent result, though, is the effort this week by other members of the community which outfitted the statue in festive holiday cheer.  The change in perspective has created an interest and awareness that had not been apparent for many years.

The essential idea I take from this is a renewed conviction of how important the unexpected is in creating memorable and meaningful experiences.  You may love the deer or hate the deer, but either way, it is impossible to ignore the deer…which is a great thing.

The same holds true for the experiences we create online.  The experience must engage emotion, elicit interest, command participation, and encourage imagination. So many standards imposed on e-learning design, either by arbitrary corporate standards or by well-meaning subject-matter experts, work directly against achieving any of these goals.  We know that success in teaching requires constant reinvention, customization, and bending of convention; these are the hallmarks of the best teachers.  Yet those elements are precisely what so many design standards for e-learning set out to eliminate.  Even though e-learning removes the teacher directly from the student, it doesn’t mean we have to also remove all characteristics of good teaching.

When we encounter the unexpected, we can’t help but focus attention, activate prior preconceptions, and form a personal judgment.  These make personal what could otherwise be left at a comfortable distance, resulting in making any topic one of specific meaning and relevance. So keep looking in every design a way to use the unexpected to command interest in your users.