May 9, 2012
Student Follies

It’s exam time around these parts, and indeed around much of America. Consequently, lots and lots of students are stressed, worn out and worried. It’s predictable and perfectly understandable.

As a consequence, while most students manage to handle the stress with dignity and decency, a few, umm, don’t. And as is the case in all human management situations, faculty inevitably spend 90% of their time dealing with 10% of the people. With that as prologue, to the 10%!

1. No, dear student: you cannot come in after the final exam to discuss your concerns with the course. There are at least two reasons: 1) you’ve had 16 weeks to ask for help, and didn’t; and 2) I’m not sure your concerns should be with “the course” so much as with “your performance in the class.” As context, as you are an athlete, I do wonder just how such an exchange might go if the addressee was “Coach” instead of “Dr.”

2. No, dear student: you do not need to take the final —which is optional — if you have not taken a required test earlier in the semester. (Did I mention the student also missed the optional final and was asking for a makeup?) Really: it says the final doesn’t substitute for a missed test on the syllabus and multiple times on Blackboard. I repeated this point numerous times in class. It’s 20 strikes and you’re out with me.

3. No, dear student: you cannot miss every exam in the regular semester and just take the optional final. Even if you passed it, it would be insufficient. See post #2. 

4. Finally, dear student(s): no email that begins with “I know you asked us not to email you with grade questions, but … ” ever works. Ever.

Good luck during exams everyone, no matter which side of the desk you are on!

November 7, 2011
From the “Spinning in Despair” Files

My despair is only euphemistic, but in my large American government class today, basically no one had ever heard of THE TEA PARTY. You know, the central political group of the LAST TWO YEARS. 

If they’re not paying attention to what’s going on NOW, what chance do I have to put any of this in context?

Remarkable. The things one learns … 

October 26, 2011

Remaking education.

This is brilliant, and well worth a watch. Unfortunately, this is easier to say than it is to do…

October 13, 2011
On grading …

For my academic friends out there: is there anything more humbling than grading? You start with the hope that the logical, ordered and integrated ideas you have been presenting (or think you have been presenting) will have filtered through. And then you start grading.

It wasn’t terrible. It just wasn’t what I hoped. 

Oh well. To paraphrase, “tomorrow, is another class.” Hang in there, friends!

October 7, 2011
"… . What is striking about this in Perry’s case—and indeed in the case of many tea party candidates—is that they no longer seem to feel any need to even offer lip service to the notion that education is important to building success and opportunities for peoples’ lives. Where once the notion was that getting a good education was key to creating and maintaining a large middle class in America, now the emphasis is on boot strapping one’s way to the top. Indeed, many tea party types seem resentful that their tax dollars are used to educate “others” at all—whether illegal immigrants, or the poor who “belong” here. Education is a “cost” to be limited or eliminated, not a “good” that pays itself back in untold and often immeasurable ways… ."

I’m with you (and Perry) on the illegal immigrant issue, as I’ve posted here before. First draft = incomplete. But Texas, like many states, is slashing support for higher ed, increasingly pricing it out of the reach of more and more people. (My own university has almost tripled tuition and fees in the last 10 years in the face of staggering budget cuts—and no, we haven’t seen big pay increases, fancy offices or big time sports here. It’s about a dollar for dollar swap, with tuition paying for cuts in state support.)

Also, the business groups Perry relying on for his reform proposals seem dedicated to the proposition that college is little more than jobs training … and given that Google did not exist the year I joined my current university (1994), I question the notion that a university can train someone to a job. We’re trying to help people develop an array of skills that can help them with a globalized world and to do jobs that don’t exist yet. And I’m not sure Perry believes that.

Politicalprof: Why Rick Perry’s Grades May Matter …

 Wait … isn’t Perry taking flak for supporting in-state tuition for non-legal residents?  And hasn’t Perry been pushing hard for a $10,000 college degree, precisely because he feels eduction is extremely important, and that it out to be affordable for everyone?  You can blast certain elements of the Tea Party all you want about this, but lumping Perry into the mix seems unfair to me.  He’s arguably been more focused on the importance of a college education than our President.

I’m no Perry supporter, and there are plenty of legitimate grounds that ought to disqualify Perry from office.  This isn’t one of them.

(via jeffmiller)

(via jeffmiller)

October 7, 2011
Why Rick Perry’s Grades May Matter …

In general, I am of the opinion that there is little to no correlation between one’s college grades and one’s chances of success in one’s chosen career. As a practical matter, if you can get past the first gatekeeper of your chosen field—and this, as all of us who have struggled to make it know, is HARD—the rest of your career is largely shaped by how well you do the job you have, the opportunities and options you have available to you, and a little bit of serendipity—the stuff that happens by accident but leads you down some paths and not others.

So at one level I am not particularly bothered by the fact that Rick Perry was a not very interested student/big time party boy at Texas A&M. Nor was I particularly bothered that his gubernatorial predecessor, George Bush, was likewise disinterested in school. After all, FDR was a playboy in his younger days, and Lincoln never went to college. Being an A student does not mean you will be an A president. (See, for reference, Jimmy Carter.)

But I’m beginning to wonder if I’ve missed an important point about grades, at least in the case of people like Rick Perry. I’m beginning to think that, for Perry, the fact that he has been highly successful despite his poor school performance means that school basically doesn’t matter for anyone.

I’m still teasing through these ideas, so consider this a first draft of an evolving idea, but I think I’m on to something here. For example, an attitude that “school doesn’t really matter” seems to me to be  a helpful explanation for Texas’ education “reforms” under Perry. Whether at the elementary and secondary levels, or at higher education, Texas’ schools have been riven by ideological and budget challenges that seem likely to weaken the system substantially. 

What is striking about this in Perry’s case—and indeed in the case of many tea party candidates—is that they no longer seem to feel any need to even offer lip service to the notion that education is important to building success and opportunities for peoples’ lives. Where once the notion was that getting a good education was key to creating and maintaining a large middle class in America, now the emphasis is on boot strapping one’s way to the top. Indeed, many tea party types seem resentful that their tax dollars are used to educate “others” at all—whether illegal immigrants, or the poor who “belong” here. Education is a “cost” to be limited or eliminated, not a “good” that pays itself back in untold and often immeasurable ways.

We seem to have grown a generation of persons who believe that they are successful despite their educations rather than because of them. Which may be the biggest educational failing of them all.

September 28, 2011
Trying to decide which annoys me more …

1) The guy on the quad getting students to “like” his company’s product on Facebook in exchange for “free” T-shirts, jeans and bags, thus furthering the long-term marketizing of both young people and college life, as well as furthering the destruction of anything even sort of like privacy in the modern world;

2) the fact that that he is using a bullhorn to hawk his stuff, in clear violation of the university’s amplification policy; or

3) the fact that he keeps mispronouncing the name of the building in which I work.

Another lovely day, perfect for working with the window open, ruined by commercial noise. I think I see the future, and it looks a lot closer to Blade Runner than Star Trek.

September 26, 2011
To the student who asked …

The answer is: no. Today’s test, which accounts for five weeks of material, does not only cover Chapter 1 of the intro text.

Have a nice day.

August 16, 2011
The Loathsome Life of a College Professor

pol102:

kohenari:

From my good friend Michael Tofias:

John Hudson says, being a college professor isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. And that I am probably a depressed, childless, narcissistic jerk? Sounds about right (via Michael Zimmer).

Madness, I say.

But let me expand on this just a bit, especially since the new semester begins next week and I’ll be teaching my graduate seminar in political theory. I usually tell grad students that it’s the best class they can take … but that shouldn’t surprise anyone, as I always tell undergrads that my political theory courses are the best and most important classes available to them at the university.

Is my mouth writing checks that my syllabi can’t cash? Maybe a little. But only a little.

My classes are designed to appeal to people who like the sorts of things that I like. They’re the classes I loved taking when I was in college. We read a lot of books, we talk about timeless questions, we think about ways in which the answers to those questions impact the way we live today, we try out different ideas and see if they work, we debate and discuss … and, throughout, I pepper students with pop culture references and lessons in grammar.

What could be better? Honestly, what?

When students take my classes and then go off to law school, I wonder what went wrong. Law school — and lawyering, thereafter — isn’t anything like what we do in my classes. Grad school and teaching, that’s the model here.

Of course, grad school isn’t for everyone; it’s not even for some grad students. It’s not enough to enjoy reading and thinking, though that is a big part of my job. You also have to be able to write and to come up with ideas about which you must then write. So, really, a good portion of my day is given over to thinking and talking and writing about ideas that interest me.

I’m not sure if there’s any other job that I’m capable of doing. But I know there’s no other job that would make me as happy.

Thus, I’m always amazed by the Hollywood portrayal of college professors, some of which is directly referenced in the piece to which Tofias direct people above and with which Tofias seems to identify; if I’m remembering all the movies correctly, there isn’t a single professor character with whom I actually identify. They’re all completely self-involved; they have almost no common sense; they seem entirely disconnected from the world around them; they generally have some sort of substance abuse issue; they have terrible home lives and relationships; and — perhaps most strangely — they all seem to be failures at teaching or writing or both.

Last year, I watched “Tenure,” a film in which Luke Wilson’s hapless professor character attempts to get tenure and then realizes — after failing to get tenure, in part due to his inability to publish anything and in part because of his behavior and the behavior of his odd colleagues — that being a tenured professor really isn’t something that he’d want out of his life. Having just successfully navigated the tenure process myself, I thought I’d get a few laughs out of the film … but there was literally no part of the film that had anything at all to do with my experience. Not a single moment.

Since they can’t find a way to succeed in either their personal or their professional lives, these movie professors make for at least marginally interesting characters in the way, I suppose, that I do not; the general lack of anything to do during the day or night means that the screenwriter can imagine all sorts of wacky situations into which they can be tossed. And no one ever says, “I don’t believe that could ever happen. It’s 11am on a Wednesday. Doesn’t he [It’s almost always a “he” in these movies] have something to do?” These are professors, after all. 11am on a Wednesday is a meaningless distinction. And yet, with so little going on in their lives, it’s hard to believe that these schlubs so consistently fail to get anything accomplished, even as it’s not at all hard to imagine that they keep filling their days with bizarre shenanigans.

Happily, I suppose, my life is nothing like these fictional professors. You probably don’t want to watch a movie in which I read books, spend hours typing at my laptop, play with my kid, make dinner for my family, watch movies, go to meetings, await publication decisions, and talk with students in and out of the classroom. There are no shenanigans.

But I’m also not depressed, addicted, lonely, or excessively narcissistic. My colleagues at the University of Nebraska don’t seem to be either. I like working with them; I even enjoy spending time with them outside of the office. This might be the exception and so I might be selling people an unreal or unreasonable bill of goods. But I don’t really know how else to describe it. My experience as a college professor isn’t at all like the one described in the Atlantic Wire piece to which Tofias links.

In fact, I love my life, I love my job, and I love my shenanigan-free days of reading, writing, discussing, and thinking. Of course, I’m also incredibly lucky to be in this job; it’s a bad bet right now to go to grad school with the hope that you’ll wind up behind the desk in my office in 5-10 years and I attempt to explain this to students who express an interest. Most, though, don’t ever even express an interest and I’ll admit that it puzzles me.

In the end, I don’t need you to want my job; I’m just surprised that you don’t.

What he said! (Except I liked and identified with the film “Tenure”.)

Whereas I have not seen “Tenure” at all. But congratulations on earning tenure! And let me tell you: full professor feels even better!

May 16, 2011
The Tyranny of Data

Are you tired of taking surveys yet? Of having your opinion taken about restaurants, or car salesmen, or your internet shopping experience, of your reading habits, or of anything else?

For that matter, are you tired of having opinions taken about your work—as a sales person, or a teacher, or a deliverer of some or other product or service?

Well, prepare to get exhausted. We are living in the age of data. As increases in processor speeds and storage have made computer analysis cheap, easy and pervasive, companies, governments, medical providers and others have begin to ask a vast array of questions about what they do and how they do it—questions for which answers can be crunched quickly and easily.

The current craze is to call all this opinion gathering “assessment,” but it’s really opinion solicitation in order to figure out whether you liked the way you were treated in some interaction, or if you were satisfied with the good or service you received. The surveys are then used to assess the success (or failure) the service or good provider had in interacting with a client/receiver. They are also used to determine how best to get potential clients/users to keep using a given product, or to expand the item’s market reach.

At its best, this constant opinion soliciting leads to meaningful improvements in both goods and services over time. To the degree that better (and worse) ways of identifying, serving and satisfying users can be determined through opinion data, changes can be instituted that reflect “best practices.” Hypothetically, knowing what works and what doesn’t makes it possible to constantly get better—the path to progress.

There are, however, at least two significantly negative consequences of this assessment frenzy.

The first is the obsessive focus on that which is being measured. That is, since thing X is being measured, thing X draws most of the attention of policy-makers, reformers, journalists and others. Think No Child Left Behind: the US tests for competency in various areas; schools (and increasingly teachers) are held directly responsible for student performance on the NCLB tests; teachers teach to the test, and schools and engage in various schemes to bump their test numbers up quite regardless of whether the students have actually learned anything. The obsessive focus on THE DATA can warp behavior in profound ways.

The second problem is the flip side of the first: in focusing on the things you can—or want to—measure, it may well be that you miss the things that really matter.

To continue with schools as an example, it turns out that one of the best predictors of a student’s likelihood of doing things like graduating high school or graduating college is—surprise surprise!—whether or not the student’s parents (or caregivers) graduated from high school or college, etc. The children of better off, better educated parents (the two variables interact to a substantial degree in the United States) are, in general, more successful in school than are those whose parents are less educated and less well off. In turn, given the class stratification of America’s schools, the children of better off, better educated parents go to “better” schools, on average, than do those from poorer, less formally educated backgrounds.

In other words, it’s economic class, rather than school or teacher performance, that seems to best account for student success in the classroom.

But we can’t assess that—or don’t want to—in a way that reinforces the American mythology of the self-made aristocracy of talent.

So instead we have collected mountains of data—and soon will have mountains more—that tell us the best ways to do things that have, at best, marginal influence on the outcomes we claim to seek—e.g., holding schools and teachers directly responsible for student performance. Moreover, current US policy of slashing support for higher ed, which leads both to higher tuition and reduced financial aid and grant opportunities for the neediest students, will only reinforce the advantages held by the best off of our citizens even as “objective” test data will prove that schools that serve poor people are failing.

It’s the tyranny of data. And it’s only going to get worse.

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