Monthly Archive for September, 2006

Has the bubble burst?

Okay, I admit to being an optimist, perhaps even an incorrigible one. Today I ran across one of my first year seminar students and I asked her: How is our class really going? She said, “fine.” But then when I pressed her, she indicated that some students are finding it hard to do everything they would like to do for the course, given the work load in their other courses.

This seminar has been predicated so far on students taking responsibility for their own learning for the course. Should I begin to worry about their willingness to do this? If other courses have “required” assignments with deadlines, will those grab my students’ attention and effort instead of working on the seminar? If so, what would be an effective response on my part that wouldn’t violate the culture of the course?

Second Stab at Collective Learning

Before Class: A couple of weeks ago I wrote about how my students found it difficult to collaborate to develop a single consensus definition of globalization. This week we’ve been trying a second time to develop a class consensus, this time on what Thomas Friedman means by The World is Flat. After discussing the idea in class, I asked each student to summarize their understanding in a single sentence, which they did. Then I asked students to develop a class definition on our wiki. This was Tuesday. Three students posted their own definitions, but there was apparently no attempt to edit them to a single statement. As one student commented on the class blog last night, “Umm..this isn’t happening, methinks..

So we’re going to work on this in class today. More later…

After Class: We began class today with a “quiz” in which I asked:

1. Did you understand what I wanted last class?
2. Are you reluctant to edit each others’ words? If, so, why?

When we discussed these questions, the class said they understand what I wanted, but almost universally admitted they were uncomfortable editing each others’ postings. We explored why they felt that way. Several students mentioned that editing someone else’s work was disrespectful to their ideas. Another student mentioned that he wasn’t sure enough about his own answer to replace someone else’s with it. After all, what if he was wrong and the other was right? One student said he thought it best to just list everyone’s opinions and leave it at that.

I asked how anything was ever decided in life if one always took that view. I reminded the group that nothing is really gone in a wiki, and in the event of a “mistake,” we could always recover what was deleted. I also pointed out that while we had been using the wiki to support our process, it should also be thought of as a product of our work. As such, it would be ungainly for future users to have to read fourteen opinions rather than one consensus view. What good are Cliff Notes if they’re as long as the book?

Martha joined the discussion to make several useful points. She pointed out that, in contrast with blogs which are supposed to be individual, it is part of the wiki philosophy to edit the contributions of others. She referred the class to the Wikiversity:Be Bold statement, and urged students to take its license seriously.

I then switched gears (went back to the course content?) and prepared to walk the class through several exercises that I hoped would enable them to develop the desired consensus. I had earlier posted all of their responses to a wiki page I labelled “Digital Scrap Paper.” and I proposed thinking of this as a work space that we would play with and throw away when done. The idea was to help them feel more comfortable editing the responses. Midway through the first exercise, a student asked if we could refresh the wiki page. Upon doing so, we discovered that a couple of students had consolidated the fourteen responses into one. I asked the class what they thought, if anyone had any suggested changes or if everyone could accept the result. They agreed to do so. I guess that some students had gotten the point.

Rethinking Grades and Learning

Is learning fundamentally a flow or a stock? Is learning about improving your skills and knowledge or about being skilled and knowledgeable? I ask these questions because often it appears to me that we’re grading what students know more than what they’ve learned. Bright students get good grades. Students who write well, complete A papers. Grading is an exercise in sorting based on what students know, which may have little correspondence with what students have learned on an assignment or in a course. I’ve encountered many students who, at least in lower level courses, didn’t have to learn anything to get good grades. What a shame, or is it a sham from the perspective of education?

This creates a contradiction for me or at least a discomfort: Our objective as teachers is to help students learn, to help them improve their thinking and understanding. But we grade not on their learning in the sense of improvement, but rather on what they know.

Okay, so be it. Let grades be an indication, an estimate, of what a student knows or is able to do at a point in time. But let’s not pretend that grades measure learning.

So where does that take us? Actually, quite a distance. It reminds me that teaching should focus on learning and not grades, that teaching is a craft while grading is a mere administrative function, and that grading provides only a poor incentive for learning. What does this mean in terms of one’s teaching? I will explain.

I asserted that grading is a poor incentive for learning. What do I mean by that? After all, economists argue that people respond in predictable ways to incentives. Rewarding students with a good grade for learning, or punishing them with a poor grade for not learning should encourage students to do what is necessary to learn more. But what is necessary? Grading is a blunt object for teaching. The signal to noise ratio is quite low. Grades less than A tell students that what they did wasn’t right, or wasn’t completely right. But grading, the way it is often done, provides little direct information about how to perform better. (A grade of A is almost as bad: telling students they are “completely right”, as if that is possible in the real world.) By contrast, I suspect that carefully thought-out, formative assessment can be a strong tool for enhancing learning. At least that’s my hypothesis. As Christopher Miller, President of St. Johns College, said today in a panel presentation, “Assessment should be an integral part of learning itself.”

Over the last ten days, I’ve reviewed two sets of student papers. Both were non-traditional assignments: one was the first meta assignment in my intro course, which I blogged about the other day, where students reflect on what was important in the previous topic, but more importantly, why it was important. The second assignment was the first major essay in my first year seminar on globalization. For this assignment, I asked students to identify, explain and justify what they see as the most important questions that need to be answered about globalization. I asked why the questions identified were important, and who they were important to.

For both of these assignments, I read and responded to their papers, but I didn’t grade them. I didn’t sort the papers (students?) and label them A, B or C. Rather, my responses were guided by the Inquiry Method, which says not to provide answers to students, but only to respond with additional questions, that is questions that lead students to think more deeply.

I must say I found this approach difficult. I have been training for more 25 years to sort, categorize,and label assignments (students?). It’s harder and it takes a bit longer, but it is opening my eyes to a new way of viewing teaching. Instead of reading a student’s paper and looking for what it lacks and what I can deduct points for, I start from “zero” and look for what I can suggest to improve the paper. What is the limit in the deductive approach? You can knock a student’s grade down to zero. What is the limit to this new approach? There is none. Students can improve without limit. In the first year seminar, I’m allowing encouraging students to revise their work as many times as they wish until the end of the semester. With each revision, I’ll give them additional feedback. When is an assignment done? When the student is convinced they have nothing more to add or when I have nothing more to suggest. I haven’t gotten rid of grading (which comes at the end); I’ve just put it into the back seat in favor of regular formative assessment.

This approach implies a very different view of teaching and learning, one where an instructor treats each student as engaged in a personal and in some ways unique journey towards education. Putting it another way, one must accept students’ abilities where they are and strive to help them improve. Each of them. Contrast this with the one size fits all method of the industrial model of education.

Can this approach be scaled? At one level that’s a question from the industrial model, though I admit it can be legitimate from the perspective of an institution or a school system. It may be possible to do something approximating this approach with the tools of Web2.0, but that remains to be seen. The question for me is whether I do it with a class size of 35, since that is the general limit in my courses.

I think I can, said the Little Engine that Could.

Status Report on the Metas

Last week I reported on the first meta discussion in my intro course this term.  Over the weekend I read over their responses and drew some conclusions.  First, the majority of students completed the assignment, 70% as compared to 35% for the same assignment last year.  What was the difference?  I’m not sure.  This time, I didn’t emphasize that this assignment was optional, but I did indicate that it was essentially extra credit.

Last year as I read over the metas I asked myself, what are they choosing for their answers?  This year I found myself asking, what are they thinking?  What is their reasoning for selecting what they did?  For students who explained this well, I had a strong sense that they understood the material.  By encouraging the students to spell out the metacognition, I think I’ll be able to make these assignments more effective learning tools.

Lest You Think We’re There

Last year I blogged about the potential for Web2.0 tools to improve administrative processes in addition to teaching and learning. Two experiences at a recent committee meeting reminded me that we’re not there yet.

The committee was meeting to evaluate a collection of faculty proposals. As we sat down, one committee member said, “Before we get started, I wanted to raise an issue—Did we decide not to ask for six copies of all proposals [i.e. one for each member of our committee]? After all, every other committee which evaluates proposals asks applicants to submit multiple copies.” Another committee member responded, “You can always print the proposals from the emailed versions if you want a hard copy—that’s what I do.” The first member said, “Yes but then my department has to pay for the copies. Shouldn’t the faculty member submitting the proposal pay?” The group agreed that that was appropriate. (I didn’t say anything.)

I had brought my laptop to the meeting, the only person to do so. As we began discussing the proposals, the administrator on the committee looked at the laptop, looked at me and said, “Oh, you’ve got a laptop. I guess that means that you can take notes for the group today.”

Is that what a laptop is for? I thought I brought it so I would have digital copies of all the proposals as well as access to all committee documents, and indeed, anything else we might need for completing our business.

Are my students genuinely thinking about globalization?

I couldn’t resist posting this clever quotation from Anya:

The fact that you can buy shoes from Italy and listen to Buddhist songs while troubled about whether the imported beef you had for lunch contained mad cow disease is a result of globalization.

(Real) Teaching is Hard

One of the underlying assumptions of my previous post was that teaching, real teaching (at least at the university level) is far more than just transmitting content. Laura’s recent post at Geeky Mom makes this clear:

The thing that’s hard is that my philosophy about teaching is that the students should take responsibility for their learning. Creating the environment for that is much harder than lecturing, just giving paper assignments and then grading them. I come to class with more questions than answers and I think some students find that unnerving. And if the students don’t wrestle with my questions, there’s a lot of dead air and I find that unnerving.

The kind of teacher I want to be is one who inspires in her students the desire to learn more. I’ve always had a few students like that. Whether I’ve had anything to do with it or not, I don’t know. But I recognize that I’m not always that inspiring. But I want to be, and so I keep working at it.

Exactly!

Coming to Class Unprepared

It’s no secret that faculty sometimes come to class unprepared and have to “wing it.” By unprepared I don’t mean having nothing prepared to say, though I did that a few times, unfortunately, as a new teacher. What I mean by unprepared is not having taken the time to review one’s lecture notes or whatever preparation you would do, prior to walking to class.

As I was reading Angela and Federico’s latest posting this weekend, I was struck by something that was reinforced in a meeting I had today with my co-teachers, Martha and Jerry: when you’re collaborating with someone else to teach, you are a lot less likely to class come to class unprepared. If you are truly collaborating, you will need to communicate about what each of you is planning to accomplish in a class session. In addition, you may feel responsible to your co-teacher. (Here’s a more jaded view: while you may think that you’ll be able to fool your students when you’re not propared (or fool yourself that your students won’t know the difference), you know it’s more likely that you won’t be able to fool your colleague.) Perhaps this is one more benefit to teaching in a non-traditional way.

One of the topics I’ve blogged about in the past is the purpose of class sessions in a course. In the last year I’ve found that what I do in my class sessions more and more is dynamically determined, rather than following a strict script. While I have a general outline of what I plan to cover (including possibly the old lecture notes), exactly which points I talk about depends on how students react to what I say, what questions they raise, etc. In other words, instead of a linear outline of “the material” think of a branching structure, where I can take the class in different directions.  It’s a lot harder to prepare for such a class session than for a straight lecture. Perhaps harder isn’t the right adverb, but it certainly takes more forethought and intent. You can’t do it successfully without being prepared.

Maybe there are more benefits to U2.0 than we imagined; certainly it takes a different skill set.

First Try at Teaching Argument to First Years

Thursday’s seminar started plainly. I gave a mini lecture on argument: how to identify and dissect them, how to construct them. (I need to post my notes as promised.) The students went into semi-sleep mode, that is, they seemed to slump back in their seats, perhaps because this was the first lecture, per se, I’ve given. Then I asked them to deconstruct two articles from the Washington Post. The first article I chose because it was a straightforward argument; the second I chose because it was a good example of a poor argument – the thesis made sense, but the reasoning didn’t lead one there. For the first article I asked them to work in pairs, while the second we did as a whole.

I found that the students weren’t very disciplined at this. They didn’t want to identify the key elements in the argument. Rather, after gleaning the key assertion, they wanted to jump straight to criticize or accept it. I wonder if this is typical of first year students learning argumentation. My research methodology students, typically juniors, seem to find it easier to do this. Something to think about and work on.

P.S. Martha came to class today, not because she was presenting anything, but just because she could. Thanks!

First Meta Discussion of the Term

It’s been a while since I’ve talked about my experimental intro course. I admit I’ve been preoccupied with the first year seminar, but now I have something to talk about in the former.

Friday we discussed the first abstract metacognitive assignment, in which students were asked to catalog the material from Topic 2, using the framework described here. I’ve slightly modified the framework for this year, putting theories before institutional findings, since I wanted to list theories more prominently to correspond with their place in the “economic way of thinking,” and also because findings tend to be derived from theories: study of the theory of demand led to the law of demand.

For this discussion, the students seemed engaged, though also a bit anxious to find out if they had done the assignment correctly. I don’t remember them being quite so positive when I did this last year. Of course, I’ve learned a few things in the interim.

I told them there was more than one way to complete this assignment well, since its purpose was to outline the material in a way that would enhance their individual learning. Since we have a variety of learning styles and strengths, different students might do the assignment differently, but still “correctly” in the sense that it would achieve the goal of the assignment.

I made a specific point of not organizing the session as a presentation of how I would have completed the assignment; rather, recalling the inquiry approach, I worked to construct a consensus response, with the long term goal of helping students develop confidence in their abilities to do this well. When there were differences of opinion among the students–Should scarcity be categorized as a concept or a finding?–we discussed under what context they could each be considered a good answer: the notion of scarcity is a concept, but the conclusion that scarcity is a general condition is a finding. I think the discussion was helpful in generating a deeper understanding of the material.

I emphasized that this isn’t really an exercise in finding right or wrong answers, but rather a way to understand the material. I observed that putting a major item in the “wrong” category was less problematic than failing to include the item at all.

I ended the session by stating that in the future I would only allow those who completed the assignment to sit in on the discussion, pointing out the perverse incentives that allowing free riders would create. No one seemed to object (though they didn’t need to today.)




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