Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Student and Professor Rights & Responsibilities

Having just finished three straight days of student conferences (and having an hour before my three-hour evening class), I find myself ruminating on rights and responsibilities. Specifically, students' rights and responsibilities and professors' rights and responsibilities. What might those be?

To wit, when faced with a student who has written nothing for the extensive major project due two days from now and whose response, when asked why he would set himself up to do poorly on the assignment, involves some shrugging and a meek, "I don't know," I had what Jon Stewart might call a moment of zen. In this moment, I felt both revulsion and relief, disappointment and acceptance, confusion and clarity.

This paradox presents itself every semester when a few (not many, thank goodness) students sit across from me in my office and unabashedly (and sometimes apologetically) acknowledge their procrastination and the potential negative effect it will likely have on their performance in my class, as though they have no control over this behavior. They sometimes even make frank and unapologetic admissions, as my student this afternoon did when I asked if he procrastinates and ignores work in other classes, that no, in fact, he does all his work in all of his other classes. And when I further asked why he thought not doing the work in my class was a good idea, all I got in return was the look of wide-eyed disbelief at being called out.

Now that I have a moment to look back upon these three days that are designed to help students further their progress on their stories (after all, these conferences don't help ME) and perhaps clarify any points of confusion, I can happily report that only five of 50 students didn't show for a conference and only four of the conference attendees had not done any work on the project. As my officemate would say, that's an incredible percentage. That's over half who were prepared, had specific questions, and who I was able to guide and encourage. I agree, that's wonderful. But as a teacher, I can't help but wonder what is going on with the minority - the select special nine who seem to think that writing a complex, comprehensive humor-laden story with a specific underlying meaning can be done with any degree of satisfaction and passability the night before. Perhaps the answer lies in rights and responsibilities:

Professors have a right to expect college students.

Students have a right to behave as though they are still in high school.


Professors have a right to expect students to make good decisions, prepare for meetings, do the work of the class.

Students have a right to make bad decisions, come unprepared for meetings, and to ignore the work of the class.

Notice the difference in action. All we, as professors, have a right to is to expect responsible behavior...but that doesn't mean we are going to get it. Students, on the other hand, have two clear action paths - take the route of responsibility or the path of Halo/Madden/beer/girls/boys/pizza/lame excuses/sleep.

Understandably, these freshmen are overwhelmed by a new place, new and higher expectations, new people, living away from family and their childhood comfort zones. But so many students are successful in the transition that it always makes me question why those few seem unable or unwilling to take the right route.

Because here's the clincher - students in both groups expect to succeed based on their choices, decisions, and behaviors. This fact is what puts this conundrum into the realm of the unsolvable for me; this I cannot relate to in any way, shape, or manner.

Honestly, when I made bad decisions in my youth, I knew it. But I also knew to expect sometimes dire consequences and never thought to beg for a better grade when I wrote the paper two hours before it was due. Granted, this was my high school behavior and by the time I got to college, I straightened up pretty fast because I was paying for it myself and wanted to succeed. However, my first two years as a non-traditional student found me taking classes that I really hated - math and science. These were not even close to favorites and they were hard for me. But I never ignored the work. I always at least tried. And when I met with a professor, I had questions, perhaps instinctively understanding that arriving unprepared was a massive waste of this person's time...this person who might be able to help me...or take pity on me (etc, etc) and to waste said person's time might be truly devastating to my grade (ie, negative consequences).

Professors have a responsibility to teach the approved curriculum in the fashion they deem productive.

Students have a responsibility to...and here's where it gets fuzzy. 

What IS a student's responsibility in this day and age at a university? My gut reaction to this question is directly informed by MY experiences and MY work ethic, which is decidedly at odds (very often) with the current generation of college-aged students. (Again, not all...but enough to make me continually return to this puzzlement.)

Ultimately, there are lots of ways I could complete that student responsibility statement, from snarky and smart-ass to serious and philosophical. But I'm not going to complete it. How would YOU finish that statement? And before you answer, ask yourself whether you are answering through your lens of experience, or whether you think it truly applies to today's college students. I'm looking forward to the responses!

Monday, September 13, 2010

Death in education

Within a week of each other, the following three articles were published in three different publications:

Chronicle of Higher Education: "10 Tips on How to Write Less Badly"

New York Times: "Forget What You Know About Good Study Habits"

Philadephia Inquirer: "The Lecture is Dead"

What these articles have in common thematically is death: death of diligence, perseverance, and work ethic even at the highest levels of the education community; death of attention-span, common-sense, and structure of any kind for students; and these articles also lay the foundation for what seems to be coming faster than some of us would like: the death of the traditional college classroom where we interact face-to-face two-three times per week with our students, getting to know them and their personalities, quirks, and strengths. At worst, taken together, these articles announce the result of decades of growing laziness, convenience-addictions, and computer-assisted-dependence. At best, these articles are identifying serious and fundamental problems in the education system for the participants.

When it comes to academics writing "less badly," which my students just loved as a title (oh yes, I made my college composition students read that article for information and perhaps some relief that none of us writers are perfect), the biggest problem seems to be an over-abundance of self-importance and a lack of gritty work-ethic. Especially in grad school when it comes to finishing projects like dissertations on time. And everyone in the academy knows someone who fits Munger's "poseur writer" description, right down to the hipster skinny jeans and too-cool-for-school scarf or jaunty hat on a head so filled with ego that no real (and useful) ideas may penetrate.

For most of us, Munger's assessment is not shocking or even remotely surprising, but for those outside the ivory tower, his pronouncements may be unsettling. After all, aren't we supposed be advanced and hard-working idea people and wordsmiths cranking out publications for our own and our home universities' glory? Well, yes, but have you seen the average teaching/service workload for a tenure-track professor recently? This is something I'm recently discovering, although only three weeks into it and I did manage to find time to complete a book review. But maybe I'm just the weird, old-school one who works too hard and believes in deadlines? (And I also don't spend 4.5 hours per day on Facebook.)

As for the death of study habits, well, no shit. Hell, in 1987 when I was in high school, you could count my study habits with one fist. Namely, I had none. And certainly, secluding myself away in a little corner with a desk, a lamp, a hard chair, and no noise would have driven my teenage mind bonkers. Only later, after a career in advertising and one in journalism, when I returned for my advanced degrees did I discover the need and joy for silence when I studied. And usually in a soft, comfy chair with a cup of tea or Diet Coke or water and with my cat, Lucy, climbing all over me.

But the problem isn't when and where and how students study, it's that they don't study. And they don't care enough to retain new information. Well, many of them. Admittedly, I've only taught 400 students (not including my current 90) over the short four years I've been teaching in the university setting, but many of my students were so tightly and narrowly focused on one particular career goal (engineer, accountant, "business"...whatever the hell that means anymore) that they resisted giving thought-space to subjects that the university deemed valuable such as world literature and writing. Mostly, my students were swell but were more interested in just getting through those classes than in actually LEARNING and RETAINING anything. So in today's university setting, which is becoming more and more consumer-oriented with outcomes and goals that read like a fact sheet for the Widget Factory, with every piece in its narrow place, the value of studying subjects outside one's specialty/major may be in danger of being de-valued.

Thinking about devaluation, that last article is both true and a little scary. On one hand, I agree that lectures don't really work - students fall asleep, have the attention-span of a gnat (when it's not something they are already interested in), and are easily distracted by other more exciting tasks like texting, doodling, making paper footballs, and staring slack-jawed into space. I've seen it happen, which is why I chose to conduct my world lit survey classes without one lecture from me. I made the students present and lead class discussion (with me chiming in to add details, ask questions, and provide background when appropriate). Every day. And despite some hearty fear and resistance at first, they delivered tremendously and did (imho) get more out of those discussions than they ever would have by me just talking at them for an hour a day. So yes, I agree the lecture is dead, but my concern is what university administrations are doing with this type of information.

If the classroom is no longer a place where students are lectured at by brilliant PhDs, why have a classroom at all? Why not go online? In fact, why hire PhDs to teach those online courses? Why not hire Tony Robbins-esque type public speaking dynamos and give them a pre-crafted syllabus and readings and let them loose to dazzle the students via video-pod?

I'll be honest. This unnerves me because I did not become a professor to teach solely online, but I do see that's the direction of most universities because online education is a solid money-maker. And considering the speed at which things change nowadays, I'm wondering how long I have to create interesting, discussion-based, classroom-grounded environments in which my students can get to know me, each other, and some new useful material. Five years? Ten? More? Less?

I'm not averse to hybrid courses where students come to class once a week and then are responsible for a vast amount of work on their own time. That seems a smart compromise. But going online 100%? I'm not convinced that is the right direction to educate vast numbers of young people (undergraduates) who already spend too much time in front of their computer and TV screens.

Although, that would create the perfect workers who are content to sit for 10-12 hours a day at a computer screen in their pajamas...who would fit cog-like into the Widget Factory's concept of uncomplaining and controllable worker productivity at low cost, would it not?

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Goals and expectations of new college writers

When you were in college, did you ever ignore assignments that were either being graded directly or were being included in your overall grade? My four composition classes had a blog post due this Monday by midnight. Both sections of College Comp have 25 students - in one section, 22 students posted, in the other, 17 posted. In my Advanced Comp class, only three students haven't posted and two were because I had to re-submit their invitations, so they will likely post before Wed. In my Intro to College Comp course, I have 19 students...only four posted a blog entry. Even after my emailed reminder last night at 8pm. In fact, about four students didn't even respond to the blog invitation email.

I admit, I'm confused by this. The class blog is part of the participation grade, which is 20% of the overall course grade (and this is not only listed in the syllabus, we also went over this in class). And I see the students' names - they accepted the invite and started a profile. My goals and expectations for this semester include helping students improve and expand their writing skills and abilities by blogging (a great idea that my friend, AHab, successfully used in her World Lit class this past summer - and she inspired me to give blogging a try with my students). So far, I count the blogs a success in three of the classes...and I can't wait to find out why so many students in the Intro class set up their accounts and then promptly didn't do the assigned post listed on the class schedule. I can honestly say that once I got to college, I never just blew off an assignment that my professors gave me, especially those that were included in my grade. To me, this indicates high school thinking where homework is quickly becoming extinct (according to my friend, Mo, whose stepson's school has stopped providing any homework).

The upside to the blogs and the students who ARE participating is the opportunity to express themselves in a different type of environment that is so prevalent in contemporary society. Many of them have never blogged and are excited to get some practice. The first prompt was simply a reflection on where they are as writers and what goals and expectations they have for the class. Not surprisingly, many of them share similar concerns such as wanting to increase their creativity with writing, improve their overall confidence as writers, and put more of their individual voices or personalities into their writing (especially in more formal and "academic" writing assignments).

One student wrote that he has trouble starting and wants to know how good writers get started. This prompted a lengthy in-class discussion today about what students mean when they say "good" writers. This transitioned to a related issue - what they define as "the wrong way" (don't use "that," "like," any contractions, "I" or anything creative) and "the right way" to write academic papers. As it turns out, they define "good" writers as successful, memorable, experienced, published writers. When I asked them if they thought that was a realistic goal for a 15 week composition course, many of them nodded yes. I shook my head no, prompting some nervous giggles. I explained that writers who fit that description have been writing for years and that's the only way to get "good." So we discussed more realistic goals - striving to improve in specific areas, but leaving the idea of perfection out of it.

Vocabulary was another big issue that many students raised. They want to know more words so that when they write they aren't repeating the same ones over and over; they want to get away from simple words and become more adept with complex and advanced words so they can "sound smart." Although I hated to burst their bubbles of expectation, I had to inform them that the only way to expand and improve their vocabularies is to read more frequently and more varied materials. In my 10am class, when I asked for a show of hands of how many read a newspaper once a week, only two hands went up. When I asked how many read blogs or online news sites, no hands went up. When I asked how many read a novel or some short fiction each week, about four hands went up. When I asked how many read magazines of some kind weekly, about 2/3 of the class raised their hands. This prompted my explanation that in order to improve vocabulary and acuity with language, they need to pick another type of writing and read it regularly. Relying on a thesaurus is an adequate quick-fix, but doesn't solve the problem. The danger is that they won't understand the nuanced meaning of the word and end up sounding confused and unclear in their meaning. The more diverse their reading, the more skills they will pick up for their writing. No magic bullet there. Some seemed genuinely disappointed.

My favorite is the five paragraph essay complaint, or what one student lamented as wanting to "break out of the high school writing shell." Almost every student raised this issue as a style they would like to get away from and fortunately, I agree. Nothing they will read is in this restricted and confined format and hopefully, they will become more comfortable breaking themselves of this high school habit. This format certainly helps as a foundation for organization and structure, but is really limited as far as helping anyone develop more advanced writing skills.

Finally, the most interesting goal that many students shared was a desire to stop procrastinating. They were very honest about being heavy procrastinators and how much that has hurt their grades and performance in the past. They realize that writing takes time and doesn't just happen, but admit how much they struggle to start projects early and not wait until the last minute. I hope they achieve this goal most of all because if they start early, they will have the opportunity to get substantive feedback from me and their peers on drafts and pieces of projects well before the due dates.

Having goals and expectations at the start of the semester is one thing, but working to achieve those goals requires commitment, sustained diligence, and a strong work ethic. Hopefully my students, particularly the Intro class, will embrace these characteristics or at least try them on and take them for a test drive in order to bring their goals to fruition.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Answer: Stamina, endurance, energy, and enthusiasm

Question: What do university professors need to teach a 4/4 load, be active scholars, and involved community members?

This is no surprise to me, really, but living it is so very different from anticipating it. My first day of teaching occurred today, although I have been having orientation activities and meetings for a week. Only Wednesdays will be this long, but here is a breakdown of my very first day as a university professor:

7:30-8:30am Awake, shower, prep, primp, chai, check bag for handouts, flashdrive, notebook, lunch, and water bottle.

9:00-9:50am Arrive at office, print assignment sheets and make copies, collect syllabus copies, chat with officemate and various other friendly faculty in copy room. Chug some water.

10-10:50am Introduce self and syllabus to energetic (and slightly scared) freshman in College Composition, give students time to partner up and interview each other and then introduce partner to class. Distribute first short assignment, dismiss class, field several initial questions and students personally introducing themselves.

11-11:45a Office hour during which one student from 10a class came in, sat down in the chair next to my desk and told me she's scared of writing and is very unsure about this first assignment. Also, that she doesn't have a user name, so can't access her KU email. In response to the latter, I picked up the phone and dialed the IT Helpdesk and sat on hold while talking her down and helping her to see how she could successfully write this brief assignment in a way that fit the parameters, but also used her language and expressions, and was possibly fun to write. Eventually had her leave a message for IT and encouraged her to email them as well since they are likely bombarded today. Told her not to give up on IT, be persistent, and also confirmed that she felt better about writing this assignment. Ate some petite sweet pickles, roasted red pepper hummus and wheat fiber crackers. Chugged some water.

11:45-55a Realized I didn't have enough assignment sheet copies for 1pm class, so made more.

11:55a-12:54p Comp Conversation weekly meeting with faculty teaching comp. Very funny and informative meeting - basically, I have amazing, smart, creative colleagues who are willing to share their expertise and ideas. What a fortunate place to have landed!

12:55-1p Walked to DeFran building and immediately got lost, circling various loops through hallways before accidentally stumbling upon my classroom.

1-1:50p See 10-10:50a - repeat.

1:50-1:55p Walk back to Lytle Hall and find classroom.

2-2:50p See 1-1:50p, except instead of introducing their partners to the class, the students spent 25 minutes talking to their partners, which must be continued outside of class in order to complete the first short assignment - Who is your partner? It's an exercise in identity creation/definition. This first part has someone describe and present who you are - the second part will be the student's chance to write his or her own story. Who you are according to someone else vs. who you are according to you.

2:55-3:15p Head to car, drive to other side of campus, get lost in a maze of parking lots trying to locate the Multicultural Center. Finally see it (very obvious place that I totally missed on the way in). Park, head to director's office.

3:15-4:30p Have delightful and supportive meeting with Director and Assistant Director and Graduate Assistant of the Center about 1) the feasibility of bringing two Native American stand-up comedians in my acquaintance to campus next fall (apparently, there is money and space for this sort of thing, so feasibility is high), and 2) developing a Multiethnic Film Series for next fall. Completely successful, early-in-the-process meeting. Lots of great ideas exchanged and a plan of attack. Sweetness!

4:30-4:50 Sit in sweltering car responding to a few emails, then drive to Betty's for a portabello pesto wrap, small three-cheese & mushroom soup, diet birch beer, and a peanut butter brownie...to go. Gaze out window while waiting for food, wondering how I'm going to make it through a three-hour class....

4:50-5:55p Head back to office with delicious dinner items, check emails while eating, load up bag so I can head home when class is over.

5:55-6p Walk into a sweltering classroom with melting students. Walk out mumbling "oh hell no" partially under my breath. Quickly scout two open classrooms, return to sauna and look at prof who taught in that room before my class. I say, "Room 212 is open." He responds, dripping with sweat, "GO." We do.

6-8:30p New classroom also has an oscillating fan, which I turn on high and position to cool the students down. This is my advanced comp class and already I can tell how on the ball all of these students are. Solid, smart conversations and debates, some teasing and joking back and forth. Good rapport right away. Several thank me for moving classrooms (I wouldn't want to teach in a sauna, as I explained). A handful even offered that they were excited about this class and the possibility of picking a social or cultural issue that they thought was important and to write about it in different ways all semester. No one looked at a watch, no one looked bored, conversations were lively. They gave me energy and I left class wide awake and just as excited at the end of the day as I was at the beginning.

8:35-9p Called mom to give her the day's overview (knew she was wondering) while driving home.

.....

10:58pm Bedtime and the sweet, calm dreams that are only possible when life is working in your favor. Realizing once and for all that yes, all that hard work, time, energy, sacrifice, heartache, frustration, obstacles, and annoyance was worth it. Yes it was. I'm there. It happened faster than I expected. :)