Monthly Archive for March, 2007

Survey Results from the Macro Course

Several weeks into the semester, I was explaining the function of the wiki to my colleagues in the TIP Seminar after which they raised some sceptical questions: How could I be sure that the macro students were not merely going through the motions using the wiki? How could I know if only a few students were actually contributing while the rest were free riding? Fair questions.

Shortly thereafter, I gave a brief survey to the class on their use of the wiki. Here are the questions and responses:

1. I read the wiki outside of class on a regular basis.
Answers: 1 = No, 3 = Sometimes, 5 = All the time. Mean Response: 3.3

2. I contribute to the wiki on a regular basis (e.g. add something new, edit something there already). Mean Response: 2.3

3. When you write your chapter analyses, do you generally get the material, or are you just going thru the motions (e.g. writing down what the book says)?

Answers: 1 = just go thru the motions, 5 = really get it. Mean Response: 3.3

The survey questions aren’t perfect, but I wanted something quick. The surveys were semi-anonymous–I gave credit for submitting the responses, but didn’t match any names with responses. I don’t know that the students answered honestly, but they didn’t have a great incentive to be dishonest. The responses to question 2 approximately matched the actual frequency of posts to the wiki so I took that as a sign in favor of validity.

More interesting, though, was the survey I gave last week after the midterm exam. On this one, I asked four questions:

1. I used the wiki to study for the midterm exam.
Answers: 1 = Not at all, 5 = A Great Deal. Mean Response = 4.3

2. Prior to the exam I used the wiki to study the course material.
Mean Response = 3.3

3. Prior to the exam I used the wiki to present my ideas about the course material.
Mean Response = 2.4

4. What other reasons do you have for using the wiki.

Twenty-two of thirty-one students who submitted the survey answered number four. Not surprisingly, the most popular response was “to get the points for wiki participation.” Still, only eight students gave that response.

Three students said “to help understand the chapters in the text.”

Three others responded “To see what other students think about the chapters.”

Three respondents listed “To identify possible exam questions.”

Two students indicated that the wiki was their primary source of information about the course material.

Three students left unique responses:

* To procrastinate,
* To browse through classmates’ personal pages,
* To clean up and organize the wiki.

One student commented “I don’t always trust the wiki, b/c [it's] not always consistent.

What conclusions have I drawn from these responses? Primarily, that the class seems to have bought into the wiki as an important source of information about course content, a source that needs to be studied prior to exams.

Postscript on the FSEM

Shannon posts some insightful reflections on the first year seminar last semester. This is exactly what I was trying to accomplish. (I wonder how many other students ‘got it.’)

This is not your teacher’s university course

Continue reading ‘This is not your teacher’s university course’

Post Script on Real School

This is a follow-up to my previous post. Have students ever made you think that at least sometimes, formal course requirements get in the way of real learning? I’ve had two recent experiences that make me wonder.

1. Several students in my first year seminar last semester indicated independently that they wished they had been able to do more work for our course, but they had had to spend time on assignments for other courses.

2. A very good student told me she was bored in one economics course and that she felt she was wasting her time doing the assignments which struck her as busy work.

I’m not suggesting that my assignments are useful and those of other faculty are not. I’m just wondering if there are times when adherence to course procedures gets in the way of learning.

What’s Cool about Real School?

When I attend professional conferences I almost always learn a few things useful for my teaching and research. In fact, that’s my definition of a successful conference–”one in which I learn something useful. Maybe it’s the way my mind works, but more often than not, the insight is somewhat unpredictable” –a speaker in a session or someone outside a session (yes, it may be in a bar), says something which somehow jogs my mind into figuring something out or giving me an idea which is not necessarily directly related to what the speaker said.

It happened yesterday. A couple of years ago, I was interacting with a colleague in the Dean of Students’ staff. He argued that much of what undergraduates learn is learned outside the context of courses and coursework. He revealed something I was unaware of, that the Student Services staff had developed a great deal of programming to promote such learning. He also argued that such learning was possibly more important than what students got out of their academic programs.

Shortly after, I was talking with another colleague from our school of graduate and professional education, which tends to enroll working adults. The culture of their school is quite different from our liberal arts campus, which is understandable given the dramatic difference in life experiences of 18 to 22 year olds compared with older students involved with families and careers. In any case, this colleague argued that what our traditional-aged undergraduates learn outside of coursework is really not relevant to his students. He observed that his students neither need nor want the type of ‘learning to be an independent adult’ stuff that the Student Services staff promotes. The implication was that the school of graduate and professional education is a more cost effective way to provide public higher education, though to be fair, he did not say this. It was clear to me that what we offer in the school of arts and sciences is different from what they provide, but I was unwilling to conclude that our program is a luxury we can no longer afford.

This conversation grew to involve some other participants, and as you can imagine it became quite heated at times, even challenging the rationale for the continued existence of residential, liberal arts colleges. (Why, as one self-described taxpayer said, should the state finance the maturation to adulthood of a cohort of citizens, who otherwise would accomplish this on their own?) I left the conversation thinking that both sides had some valid points, but still feeling that there was a deeper level of meaning involved than we had been able to discover in our discussion. That meaning is what came to me yesterday at the conference. At least, I think so.

Suppose we accept that there at two types of learning occurring in the university. The first, which we can call classroom learning, involves what students do to meet the requirements of specific courses and which ends with a degree. This can be students who put in enough effort to minimally satisfy the requirements with passing grades, or it can be students who work harder to achieve high grades, but for whom the grade is the end in itself. In both of these cases, the degree is a necessary credential for future employment or career advancement. Education here is primarily seen as a means to a vocational end.

The second type of learning goes beyond the classroom. It may be course related or not, but either way it tends to occur outside of the classroom. This learning is where students accept the invitation to participate in the life of the mind, and has the potential to transform one’s view of the world. (Contrast this with the first type of learning, where students need not be engaged, since the objective is merely the grade or the credits.) Being brilliant and achieving the best grades are neither necessary nor sufficient to pursue this path. Rather, what is necessary is a desire to learn for learning’s sake. This involves the type of intellectual inquiry that scholars do as professionals. Students who join this path become engaged in their learning far beyond what is required for a given course or degree. And perhaps the same thing can be said about faculty. (Do we treat our students and their work differently, more casually and less seriously than we do our professional colleagues and their work?) On this path, faculty treat students as serious learners, even colleagues, though with less experience and knowledge.

This second type of learning is what liberal education continues to offer, and it can be equally attractive to adult students as to traditional-aged ones. Adults may no longer need an introduction to adulthood, but it’s never too late to participate in the life of the mind. One colleague describes this distinction as education versus training: education for life not merely training for a job. I think I finally get it.

Even More Fishing

More thoughts on the proper role of technology staff in supporting the teaching of faculty and the appropriate sharing of their respective responsibilities. In particular, this post is a response to Gardner’s comment and Laura’s more recent post.

Gardner observes that a tech support center should not be:

a drop-off shop for faculty who wanted someone else to do all the techie stuff and hand them a turn-key finished product. For me, all faculty need to be empowered to do simple stuff with images and sound, no less than with text, and for a lot of faculty that’s going to mean some learning.

I agree that faculty need to be empowered. But the way you do that is to work with them to develop their facility and expertise with the tools.

Gardner then argues,

As Chris Dede noted in his keynote at ELI, faculty who have not had compelling creative experiences themselves with the technology will not be able simply to bolt technology or tech products into their “business as usual.

That’s an overstatement, I think. On at least several occasions, I’ve seen a particular technology demonstrated by someone else and thought I might be able to apply it in one of my courses. I wouldn’t characterize that as having been a compelling creative experience for me, more like just an inkling of a possibility. At the same time, I wouldn’t have been able to successfully set up and use the technology without the help of our IT staff who kindly “bolted” the new technology onto my course to let me explore it.

Laura raises a really important issue:

All I ask is for some mutual respect. I will respect the faculty member’s knowledge of their content area and I hope they will respect my expertise in technology and its application to teaching. I sometimes think this equation gets messed up. I am expected to have respect for the faculty member because they have a Ph.D. and tenure while I do not receive the same respect in return.

I’m not sure how important Ph.D. and tenure are to the issue. I think a far bigger issue is content vs. pedagogy. I think many faculty see pedagogy as secondary in teaching. After all, we were trained in the content, but few of us in our graduate work were trained in pedagogy or instructional design. I think it’s fair to say that university faculty tend to associate pedagogy with something done by primary and secondary school teachers. It’s simply not something that academics do. If I am correct in this assessment, then technology staff labor under a handicap by definition, since their expertise is something my culture dismisses. Regretfully.

In my view, the solution is for IT folk to find ways to convince teaching faculty that they have something substantive to contribute to the teaching enterprise, not just in principle but in specific courses. What is it that faculty need to improve their courses? Want your students to hear diverse points of view on a topic? Ask them to read blogs. Want your students to get more practice writing (and thinking) in a non-formal environment? Ask them to write a blog. I can come into your class and show your students how to do both. Okay, that’s not too profound, but it’s a start. Once a faculty member begins to trust his IT support people, the possibilities begin to open.

One ambitious way to approach this might be for IT staff to offer themselves as part of an instructional team. Right now, I think our Department of Teaching and Learning Technologies does an excellent job as consultants to faculty. But the next step is for them to be accepted as equal partners in an instructional team, which is not the same thing. (Note also, that I’m not arguing that this is for every course or every teacher, just one option.) In a real sense, a consultant is a hired gun, who does his or her work and then leaves. A team member may not. Rather, he or she bears some continuing responsibility for whether the initiative succeeds or fails. But they also get an “owner’s share” of the credit. Getting to this point would require a huge cultural change.

What would an IT specialist bring to a course on a continuing basis? I could posit an answer but I’ll leave that to others. In the current culture, it’s difficult enough to team-teach a class, that is, to share a course with a departmental or other teaching colleague who comes from the same culture. See, for example, Tim Burke’s comment. What I’m suggesting here goes far beyond that in terms of a paradigm shift. I agree with Laura. The way to achieve this may be to go about it one sympathetic teacher at a time, striving for a critical mass large enough for the faculty at large to take notice. That’s my approach.

Somehow we need to hook faculty on technology (or more precisely, one or more specific tech tools), but then very clearly spell out the expectations for working with them to master it.
Faculty have every right, I think, to expect the IT folks to teach them how to use the technology. But the IT folks similarly should expect faculty to learn how to use it. Perhaps what is necessary is some public discussion or explicit statement of mutual expectations. One concern is that this could be perceived by faculty as another hurdle towards IT usage. But if the value-added of IT support can be successfully sold, I think this can be a net positive.

Response to Fishing vs. Teaching to Fish

Laura at Geeky Mom raises some important issues as we move away from a traditional model of teaching to one involving more technology: To what extent should IT support staff do tasks for instructors as opposed to teaching them how to do those tasks for themselves?

At the risk of taking some things out of context, here are a few points Laura makes that prompt a response:

Faculty are more problematic. How much technology is it reasonable for them to know how to use without much help?

Comment: It’s a moving target and it depends on whether you’re trying to recruit a faculty member new to technology or whether the faculty member has experience using a given technology. On our campus, it’s no longer appropriate for IT staff to teach email or MS-Word, two of the applications Laura mentions. But if you want me to start using video, you’re going to have to carry me a while.

It’s the more complex tasks that become an issue. Using course management systems is something I think most people, if they’re going to use such systems, should know how to do quite well. Most of the features in CMS’s are pretty straightforward.

A couple comments: I agree with what Laura says up to a point. On the other hand, I’m not an IT professional and it doesn’t make sense for me to try to become one. As an economist, it’s not my comparative advantage. So where do you draw the line? I find that tasks that I do only once a semester are not worth learning the first time I do them. An example of this is doing a course copy in Blackboard. It’s not hard to do, but it is hard to remember from one term to the next. I know it’s frustrating to my IT support (Sorry, Jerry!) but it would take too much time to master something which I only use twice a year.

I often send instructions or explain the process over the phone rather than do whatever the task is for the faculty member.

This is a very reasonable approach. Here’s one that worked effectively in our department: For tasks that many faculty are likely to want to learn, why not create little video clips (for example, using Camtasia) to show them how to complete the task. For visual learners, like me, this is as good as you doing it for me.

Plus, I have this sense (maybe I’m wrong) that because we’re talking about course content, that the process of putting the content together is part of the faculty member’s responsibility.

I think I’m going to disagree with this, at least in part. It’s clear that most IT support staffs are overworked and understaffed for what we expect from them. I agree that the instructor has primary responsibility for a course’s content, and that if that content includes technology the instructor should be able to apply that, assuming this is something they’re doing on a regular basis. But you can’t expect them to try something new without IT support. It won’t happen, or at least the odds are it won’t happen well.

Still this misses a larger point, which Judith Boettcher recently raised:

[A]ll teaching functions no longer need to be embodied in one person but can be assumed by various members of instructional teams.

As we move in the direction of U2.0, shouldn’t we be thinking of inverting the industrial model of teaching? Instead of imagining one instructor teaching many students shouldn’t we revision our enterprise as each student’s learning being supported by a team of instructors, including content experts, IT professionals, librarians, etc? Henry Jenkins (via Will Richardson) goes a step further and asks why we must limit instructional teams to local faculty? Perhaps one role of the faculty advisor could be to help students develop (and vet) links with external experts.

Teaching 2.0

Judith Boettcher has an article in the latest issue of Innovate which provides the best guidance I’ve seen to date on how to design a course for University 2.0.

The article draws from research on how people learn to develop a list of ten principles for effective course design. Most of these are not earthshaking unless you think about them. Here is one that caught my attention:

Every learning experience includes an environment or context in which the learning occurs.

Of course. But in the past, when the environments were all the same–classrooms and texts–it was easy for instructors to not notice this. What is water to a fish?

Boettcher observes:

The learning environment is considerably more complex today, including a network in which all students and faculty have access to powerful digital tools for communication and research.

… These tools are dramatically changing the communication patterns and relationships between learners and the faculty.

… Another significant design impact of these tools is the ease by which students can customize their own learning experiences as the content boundaries of a course dissolve.

Here’s a point I hadn’t thought of before:

When the faculty member is acting as the “sage [on the stage],” it is the faculty member who is reaping the benefits of working with the content, structuring the content, and communicating the content. One goal in designing effective and efficient learning environments is to get the students to work this intensively with the content.

And something that resonnates with my experience last fall in the First Year Seminar:

[T]he role of technology in the learning environment allows for the teaching functions of the faculty member to be redistributed in other ways as well. In particular, all teaching functions no longer need to be embodied in one person but can be assumed by various members of instructional teams.

… The point is not that faculty will be less involved in classes, but that these new instructional options will provide faculty with more effective ways to leverage their expertise. … the faculty member has more time to mentor the learning processes of students. [e.g. formative assessment of learning?] Less time is spent on administrative and technical issues, and more time is spent on the formation of thought.

Or related to my experiment in teaching introductory students metacognition last year:

When faced with a new field or discipline, students typically focus on learning the vocabulary of a discipline, but this activity is often done in isolation from an understanding of the concepts that give the words meaning. Without the underlying concepts, words are akin to isolated weeds and seeds likely to be blown away by the winds of time, usually mere hours after an exam.

It may be that I like Boettcher’s article because it agrees with much of my thinking. Or maybe it’s more than that, like the reliance on Vygotsky. Even Bruner gets a cite.




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