"Greenwashing" comes up explicitly in both Assignment #2's purpose ("it will debunk green washing organizations") and Assignment #3's purpose ("inform others of greenwashing"). That's a consistent throughline across two of the three parts — the assignment isn't just teaching students to research a company's sustainability claims, it's specifically teaching them to be skeptical of sustainability claims that don't hold up.

This is a very detailed rubric with five weighted categories, five performance levels each, and explicit point values throughout. For an assignment this open-ended and creative, that level of specificity is what makes consistent grading possible across very different student videos.

Indigenous groups are named as their own distinct category here, not folded into "the public." That's a specific, deliberate inclusion in a list that easily could have stopped at four.

Six accepted file formats, plus the option to submit through YouTube, Moodle, or "another type of online submission." That's a wide net for a video assignment, where students' access to editing software and export options can vary a lot.

"Pick or pitch" borrows the format of a review or rating show — a genre students might already be familiar with — and uses it to make an academic evaluation task into something with a built-in hook, rather than a straight research presentation.

Completion-based grading which keeps the research report objective and checklist-driven at this early stage, before students are asked to form and defend an opinion in Assignment #2.

This is a choice within boundaries: students can pick any company they want, but it has to be a certified B Corporation. That boundary isn't arbitrary — B Corp certification is an existing, external, independently verified standard, so the choice is bounded by something the company's practices can actually be checked.

This grounds the assignment in an actual, current regulatory requirement rather than a hypothetical scenario — and specifically flags that many North American companies don't realize this EU law applies to them, which is real, useful information beyond the assignment itself.

Unlike the previous Showcase assignments, none of the three parts here specify a fixed SDG target — all three say the target is variable, chosen by the student or instructor based on their own interests. That's a different kind of openness than the format or content choices elsewhere in this assignment: it means the assignment itself doesn't fully determine what students will end up researching, analyzing, or creating.

The licensing decision is a specific question inside the task itself. Here it's paired with extra credit, which is a different incentive structure.

A built-in ethical checkpoint for creative work that touches on communities a student may not belong to — placed as a guideline before students start creating, not as an afterthought.

This is specific rhetorical guidance, not just a content restriction. Activist art often reaches for shock value; this assignment steers students toward a different strategy — invitation over confrontation — and repeats the point later in the guidelines.

This is a direct, current AI use policy written into the assignment instructions themselves — not a general syllabus statement, but a rule specific to this task, with a reason attached (Gen AI images don't qualify for copyright protection and are ethically problematic here).

Feldman's Method moves from objective to subjective in a fixed order: description and analysis (facts, elements, principles) come before interpretation and judgement (opinion, context, personal response). Students have to establish what's actually in the artwork before they're allowed to say what they think about it.

Requiring one piece older than 50 years and one from the last 50 forces a comparison across time, not just a survey of current activist art. Students have to think about how the same underlying issue gets represented differently across eras.

This is a specific theoretical stance — intersectionality — stated directly to students as part of the task instructions, not left implicit. Most assignments that touch on social issues don't name the framework they're operating from this plainly.

This is the link back to Assignment #1 — students aren't starting their artwork analysis from scratch, they're extending research they already did.

This is a different kind of flexibility than the choice-based design in the other Showcase assignments — those give students options; this gives the instructor options. An instructor with one week can run just the background research step; an instructor with a full month can run all four.

This objective shows up in the research assignment, not the creative one. The two disciplines aren't strictly sequential — research first, art later — visual design thinking is already required in Assignment #1's infographic, well before students get to Assignment #3's original artwork.

The purpose statement points past the classroom entirely — toward actual policy influence, not just academic understanding. That's a higher bar than most research assignments set for themselves, and it's stated in the very first of three parts, before students have done any of the work yet.

There's a tonal shift built into the sequence. Assignment #2 explicitly asks for "an unbiased paragraph of the facts" — neutral, factual writing. Assignment #3 asks students to advocate for a specific solution — persuasive writing, with a point of view. Students practice reporting before they're asked to argue.

All three parts are done in groups of 3–4 students, not individually. That's a different collaboration model than an assignment where each student works alone and then builds on a specific classmate's work — here, the same group carries their own research forward across all three parts.

This flips the usual model. Instead of the instructor specifying the format and students meeting it, the group proposes their own format requirements and the instructor approves them. For an advocacy artifact meant for a real audience, that ownership over the deliverable's own specs is part of the point.

Format is tightly specified in Assignments #1 and #2 — infographic on Padlet, then a timed slide presentation. Here, for the first time, the format opens up. As the task becomes more open-ended and persuasive, the constraints on how to express it loosen too.

Before students brainstorm their own solution, they're asked to research what's already happening locally. That grounds the advocacy work in real, existing civic infrastructure instead of treating the problem as if no one has worked on it yet.

Inside a group assignment, this is a specific mechanism for individual accountability — every group member has to produce their own paragraph, not just contribute to a shared document. It's a way of keeping group work from collapsing into one or two students doing all the writing.

This is where the link back to Assignment #1 lives in the instructions and is written directly into the task. The same explicit link happens again at the start of Assignment #3, tying all three parts to one continuous body of research rather than three unrelated exercises.

This builds in an alternative to live presentation for online sections — leaving written comments instead of presenting synchronously. Same requirement, two different ways to meet it, depending on how the course actually runs.

The task moves from broad to specific: students first research what the term itself means, then narrow down to one particular geographic area. The Tips section reinforces the same strategy for sources — start broad, then get specific — so the research approach being taught matches the structure of the task itself.

Social media shows up here as a legitimate research source, alongside — not instead of — the more traditional sources required later. It's asking students to read public discourse as data, not just academic or government sources.

This assignment offers two entry points, not one.

• Part A asks students to reflect on their own food culture;
• Part B asks them to interview a classmate about theirs instead.

Same underlying goal, two different ways in — a student who isn't ready to share their own culture yet, or who doesn't strongly identify with one, still has a way to complete the assignment.

This is the first of four separate life domains this Purpose section addresses in turn — civic, academic, career, and personal. Most assignment purpose statements justify themselves through academic or career relevance alone. Naming civic and personal impact explicitly models the kind of real-world framing the fellowship asks Fellows to build into their own assignments — connecting classroom work to community and identity, not just to grades or job skills.

Notice the contrast with Prof. Satrom's rubric just above — a detailed, percentage-weighted breakdown. Same shared assignment, but each instructor grades it according to what matters in their own course: detailed skill assessment for English, pass/fail completion for Nursing.

This only works once the assignment has run at least once — it depends on a growing archive of past student work as a teaching resource for future students. That's the renewable design showing up in the instructions themselves, not just in the assignment's structure.

Consent practice is built into the task itself, for a low-stakes peer interview, before students are asked to do the same thing in any higher-stakes context. It's a small moment, but it's teaching research ethics in passing rather than as a separate lesson.

This is where the two disciplines actually meet inside the task, not just in the byline — a cultural food tradition and a nursing-relevant health concept, asked about in the same question.

This is where the SDG 10 (Reduced Inequalities) connection shows up concretely in the task itself, not just as a label in the background information. Access and cost aren't asked as abstract questions — they're built into the reflection a student has to do about their own dish.

The assignment opens with a social scenario, not an academic prompt. Framing the task as something you'd bring to a potluck — rather than "write a reflection on cultural food practices" — makes sharing personal and cultural material feel like an ordinary act of hospitality instead of an academic disclosure.

Most assignment purpose statements name a skill or a piece of content knowledge. This one names a behavioral goal instead — the assignment is meant to change something about how students act, not just what they know. That's a different, more direct kind of purpose statement than most academic assignments make.

This assignment comes from a two-person team spanning two institutions and two disciplines — Biology (David Kabelik, Thompson Rivers University) and English (Barry Mauer, University of Central Florida).

At first glance, the pairing looks unlikely. But the task reveals what the two disciplines actually share: close reading and precise communication to a specific audience.

This assignment is split into three parts, and they don't carry equal weight: * Assignment #1 (Finding a Scientific Paper) is worth 20%, * Assignment #2 (Translating Scientific Writing) is worth 60%, and * Assignment #3 (Adding to Another Student's Assignment) is worth 20%.

That weighting signals where the deepest work happens — the translation itself, the core critical-reading task, carries three times the weight of either the search step or the peer-building step.

This is where the renewable design compounds rather than just repeats: each student is asked to close a specific gap a predecessor left open, not just add a new translation alongside it.

This builds in quality control through iteration rather than through instructor correction — a later student can improve on an earlier one's work without it being framed as calling out a mistake.

This part depends on a link a previous student posted. The instructions plan for that link not working, giving students a clear next step — choose a different article — instead of leaving them stuck. Anticipating a likely barrier and building in the workaround means students hit a known, already-solved problem instead of an unexpected one.

Notice the split: the copyrighted source article stays private in the LMS, while the student's own original translation is what gets shared publicly. This directly answers a common question from instructors: "my students need to work with copyrighted material, doesn't that block the whole approach?" It doesn't because the copyrighted input stays private, only the student's own output goes public.

This is where the opt-in, anonymous-or-named choice lives in the assignment text — a specific decision point built into the instructions themselves.

This is the hinge connecting Assignment #2 to Assignment #3 — the moment one student's individual work becomes raw material for someone else's. It's the mechanism that makes the three-part structure renewable rather than just sequential: without this handoff, Assignment #3 would just be "translate another paper," not "build on what someone else already started."

This section runs two full sets of step-by-step search instructions — far more scaffolding than most assignments would include for a single step. It doesn't assume students already know how to search an academic database; it assumes they might not, and builds the instruction in rather than pointing to an outside resource.

These four questions map directly onto a paper's standard structure — methods, introduction, results, discussion. Students leave with a transferable framework for reading any research paper, not just this one.

This distinction — primary research versus review paper — is information literacy most students haven't been taught explicitly. Teaching it inside the task itself, right when students need it to complete a real search, tends to stick better than a standalone lesson delivered before they have a reason to use it.

Grading on completion rather than quality removes a real barrier to public sharing — a student isn't risking a public, graded judgment of their translation, just a record that they attempted it.

This is choice within boundaries — an open invitation to pick your own topic, immediately followed by guidelines that narrow it down to something searchable. Students aren't choosing from a list, but they're not starting from a blank page either.