Creating A Meaningful Classroom Experience

I reserve a lot of my class time for students to brainstorm ideas, reflect on assignments and share their work.  Last semester, a little past the halfway mark, we were shifting our focus to the final research paper – the classic 15 page college research paper, the kind that students put off until finals week and then, like an Octopus swimming in a sea of coffee, type 100 pages overnight in a caffeine induced frenzy.  I asked students to take out a piece of paper and fill in the blank: I am writing about x because I want to find out about y.  And then, I asked them to pose a question about their topic. 

I sat and watched the students write for a few minutes and then started the classic show and tell discussion…who wants to share?

But the first student who shared threw a curve ball.  We talked for a few minutes about her topic and then I asked, “what’s your question?”

“Will it be meaningful?” She replied.

That’s not really what I meant, but she struck at the heart of a major and often over looked question that students struggle with: what’s the point?

I remember when I was writing my Master’s thesis, I called up a friend who I trusted and admired and asked him to help read a section and help me think through a problem.  We had a long, creative and reflective email exchange.  But in his last note he wrote: I don’t know why you spend so much time on school, but I hope you find it meaningful. In other words, what’s the point?

At the time, I didn’t have a good answer. I had lots of ideas about how my work was “meaningful” that didn’t necessarily comport with reality…I’m changing the world #Obvi.  In retrospect, it had more to do with answering a question that pricked me.     

But back to the classroom.  So, what makes a paper meaningful? And what makes it meaningless? 

I threw the question back to the students and we launched into a forty-five minute discussion about college. I can’t say the conversation was on topic, but I learned a lot about the way students think about their role in the classroom.

Here’s some of the feedback:

1. A paper is meaningful if it contributes to a larger, local or national conversation.   
2. A paper is meaningful if the student feels like they have the opportunity to gain some mastery over topic or subject. 
3. A paper is meaningful when students have a personal connection to the question or the topic.
4. A paper is meaningful when students receive a good grade.

The irony, of course, is that if the students fulfill the first three items on the list, the last will almost inevitably follow.  While every student could point to a handful of classes or papers that met these criteria, the majority of classes fell short.  So what makes a paper meaningless? According to the students:

1. When the Professors are looking for a preset answer.
2. When they are trying to meet the professors expectations.
3. When they are assigned a topic (When every student writes on the same topic).
4. When they receive a bad grade.

As an instructor or a professor, it’s likely that you have an intrinsic (and possibly delusional) love of your work – how else could you have survived graduate school?  Regardless of your fantasies, it’s unlikely that your students feel the same way.  But that doesn’t mean they can’t learn.  Helping students find meaning in their work and in the classroom makes teaching and learning easy.  It means that students are more likely to meet deadlines, read assignments, write drafts and deliver quality “A” work. 

Using Prezi to Create Dynamic Content for Online Courses

The first time I taught an online class, I wrote and posted 26 lectures.  Originally, I had thought about filming virtual lectures (complete with laugh track).  But I lacked the time, technology and talent to create engaging stylized videos.  Instead, I came up with talking head videos that were more painful to watch than the Nyan Cat on repeat.  So I posted the lecture notes instead. 

This semester, in an ongoing attempt to break out of blackboard, I started to experiment with Prezi – the flash-based presentation software that allows the users to move in three dimensions.  While nothing can replace the face to face experience of the classroom, Prezi adds a dynamic, interactive and playful quality to the information…even more so than video. 

Traditional slide show software like Power Point, are poorly suited to online classes.  Slide shows that artfully incorporate images and key concepts can be great for large presentations.   But they are only ever a compliment to the presentation, not the presentation itself.  Flipping through slide shows without the presenter – even really good slide shows – feels too much like story time at the public library.

But Prezi actual stands in the place of the presenter and encourages the user to have a unique interaction with the content.  It allows you  to move back and forth between the details and the big picture.  It puts the user in charge and allows them to move through at their own time.  They can follow links, watch videos, listen to audio-casts, look at images or simply read the text.   

Four Key Qualities of Good Teaching

Last year, I had the honor of receiving the Distinguished Teaching Award at UMass, Amherst…really it was “a” DTA…I think there were five recipients in all.  But still, it felt good to be recognized, especially in a field where recognition rarely extends beyond the immediate classroom experience.

 

After I won, more and more people started to ask me about good teaching.  Of course, sometimes the questions come out sideways: So, what makes YOU such a good teacher?  

Despite the questionable sincerity, these interactions forced me reflect further on teaching and student feedback and distill the key elements of my experience.  So here’s how I answer:

1) Create a meaningful classroom experience -- Most students don't know why they are in college, nevertheless why they are in my class.  Being able to craft a compelling narrative that connect with the students and that helps explain why the work matters will go a long way.  After all, if the students are bought in, than everything else falls into place. 

2) Value the knowledge that students bring to the classroom -- everybody has something to offer, you just need give your students a chance to share and contribute. The key is to be able to take their knowledge and experience and connect it back to the course content and the larger narrative of the class. 

3) Balance preparation and spontaneity -- it's easy to prepare and it's important to prepare, but if you focus only on preparation you tend to get bogged down talking about the trees while missing the forest.  Spontaneity creates the opportunity for dynamic and lively discussion.  It opens up the opportunity to value the knowledge and experience that your students bring to the classroom – the very thing that you can’t know or prepare for ahead of time.

4) Put students first –in grad school, we’re taught strict reverence for our discipline, but that doesn't always translates to good teaching; we’re taught to put content first and students second…or third.  What does it mean to put students first?  Part of that is valuing the knowledge that they bring to the classroom.  The other part is investing time in students: that means flexible office hours, reviewing drafts, and answering emails 24/7.  It entails a challenging commitment to students.  But it's a commitment that pays off tenfold in classroom outcomes.  

Between Preparation and Spontaneity

Spring semester begins tomorrow.  Early.  I am teaching the same class I taught last semester: PoliSci 399 Interpretation and Methods. At the same time: 8am.   Teaching the same class twice in a row saves a lot of trouble.  There’s no need to prepare new materials from scratch.  I have a baseline of what worked and what didn’t.  I know what to expect. 

But that’s exactly where the problem lies.

I've come to really appreciate the energy that spontaneity creates in the classroom.  The uncertainty, the unexpected, the unaware – they come so easily when you’re teaching a class for the first time.  For all the prepping and planning, I often rely on ideas that strike me late at night or driving to class.  I rely on the classroom dynamic, student participation, questions and reaction. 

The recipe for a successful semester is preparation, clear learning objectives, consistent communication and execution of a plan.  But that’s like mixing up crepe batter without any milk and butter.

I've heard that no one should teach the same class more than three times: once to learn the course, once to perfect it, and once to bore of it.  

While I refined the course based on my experience last semester, I’m not thinking about how I can perfect the class.  I’m approaching it with a different attitude: I’m trying to hold open a space for the mysterious and the unknown. 

Is "C" the new "F"?

Does anyone remember when a “C” was average?  And that was okay?  When I first learned about grades in Elementary and Middle School that was the common narrative.  A’s were exceptional.  B’s were good.  C’s were okay.  D’s were passing.  But then something changed.   When I started high school in 1997, my parents, teachers and peers placed a lot more emphasis on grades.  There was a broad consensus: If you want to go to college, grades count. 

At the same time, high marks became the norm.  Starting in the 1990’s, teachers began to give more A’s and less C’s.  In fact, from 1990 to 2008, the number of A’s increased from 30% to 43% of the grades given while C’s decreased from 20% to 15%.  During this time the number of students between the ages of 16 and 24 enrolled in a four-year college increased from 60% to 70%.

The result has been a generation of college students – primarily white, middle class students -- who view A’s as the norm, B’s as unsatisfactory, and C’s as failure.   Myself included. 

More and more, I find that students expect A’s…regardless of the quality of their work.  Why? Because they receive A’s regardless of the quality of their work…Or, at least B’s.  I know faculty who use grading rubrics that begin at 70%.  That means as long as a student hands in an assignment, they will receive a “C”. 

I’m at fault too.  I rarely fail students who hand in assignments on time.  If a student delivers a legible, original, on topic paper, they usually receive a B.  For better or worse, emphasis falls on effort as much as execution.  

As a teacher, I spend a lot of time thinking about grades.  Every semester, I ask the same questions: What is the best way to evaluate my students?  How do we define success in the classroom? How can I help students strive for success? And every semester I find myself confronting the same dilemma: how do I balance evaluation with student expectations?  And with my own expectations. 

After all, my own success is measured by how well the students do.  In an ideal world, every student will meet the course objectives and receive an A…right? 

I’ve adjusted my grading criteria to de-emphasize grades and highlight learning objectives.  I’ve increased the number of low-stakes assignments where students receive credit for completion rather than content.  I’ve replaced letter grades with a point system – 6/10, 7/10, 8/10, etc.  I’ve increased the number of graded assignments to reduce the pressure of any single assignment.  And I give my students every possible opportunity to make-up work or pursue extra-credit to increase their grades.

As a result, I give more A’s.  I also contribute to grade inflation.  I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.  But given the skewed bell-curve, it seems like a good time for colleges and universities to reevaluate the value of letter grades. 

Do you remember when you first started worrying about grades?  Comment below and share your experience. 

Rethinking Online Education

No doubt, the internet offers a unique educational opportunity.  From Google to Wikipedia, from the New York Times to Twitter, people have unprecedented access to knowledge and information.   But the internet can also be a barrier to education -- especially when it comes to online classes at the university.  Students struggle with technology, they can feel isolated in absence of face to face communication and content-heavy courses tend to drown students in text.

The online option often feels like a poor compromise: we exchange a collaborative classroom experience for the low-cost and convenience of the web.   I have taught a handful on online courses now through the UMass Continuing and Professional Education program.  Despite my best attempt to deliver a high-quality educational experience comparable to the classroom, I always seem to fall short. 

Possibly because I still use the classroom as the model to judge the quality of the class.  Why wouldn’t I?  That’s all I've ever really known. 

I am getting ready to teach American Political Thought online over the winter term (Click the link to check out my syllabus).  And I am determined to think about it differently.  Over the next few weeks I plan on investigating Khan Academy and Massive Open Online Course (MOOC) in order to gain some new perspective on online education. And perhaps, discover a new model – other than the classroom – to follow next semester.

Have you ever taken online classes in the past?  Comment and share your experience.  Do you have any thoughts on what could improve online education?  I’d love to hear ‘em . 

Lessons on Writing from Ben Franklin

Political Science majors dread the Junior Year Writing requirement at UMass. Even before I ever taught the class, I knew that students dreaded it.  Faculty complained about low attendance and poor year end evaluations.   Students put off the class until the last moment; others did the least amount of work possible; others grin and bear it.   But no one seems to enjoy it. 

The semester began this year, my first semester teaching the class, with a perfect reminder of the dilemma I faced.  I have a handful of returning students who have attended my classes in past.  I thought this might be a good sign.  You know, like a sign that students were excited to take a class with me.  Not quite.  In one student’s words “well, if I have to take the class, I might as well take it with you.”  So, the semester began with a reluctant concession to turn rotten wormy apples into apple sauce.  

But why?  Despite its subpar reputation, the principle behind the class is noble:  help students develop advanced writing skills tailored to a particular academic or professional community.   U.S. News & World Report even named it as one of the twenty-five “Programs that Work.” 

Still, students expect the worse and unless you can counter those expectations…well, that’s what they’ll get. In order for the class to be successful, the students need to buy into the value.  After all, the only way for them to develop “advanced writing skills” is to commit the time and energy to the craft of writing.  And that’s on them…not the teacher.

So, here’s a reminder of why writing matters for Political Science students:  

In 1729 the people of Philadelphia debated whether or not to increase the amount of paper money in the colony.   BenFranklin recounts the story in his autobiography:

“Our debates possessed me so fully of the subject that I wrote and printed an anonymous pamphlet on it, entitled “The Nature and Necessity of a Paper Currency.” It was well received by the common people in general, but the rich men disliked it, for it increased and strengthened the clamor for more money; and they happening to have no writers among them that were able to answer it, their opposition slackened and the point was carried by a majority in the House.  My friends there, who considered I had been of some service, thought fit to reward me by employing me in printing the money; a very profitable job and a great help to me.  This was another advantage gained by my being able to write.”

Over the last three centuries, there have been monumental changes in communication technology (obviously).  But there is one thing that hasn’t changed: The ability to write, to connect and to communicate effects change.  It matters for politics, it matters for business and it matters for life. 

I appreciate the value of the UMass writing requirements, but they might consider investing in some good PR.