October 27, 2010 by Justin.

This is a question to everyone out there who teaches a demographic that uses computers to write.

Julie and I have been talking a lot lately about the idea of trying the paperless grading model again. I’ve talked to my students, I’ve talked to a lot of people in the department, and now I’m asking you: do you think that we’ve progressed to a point where a college 101 class can give up on paper entirely, or at least as far as assignment submission is concerned?

See, as much as I prefer to grade on paper (for a number of reasons, not least of which is the fact that I can FEEL the marks I’m making), I have a reality check coming my way this December that may well change my mind. UNM uses a portfolio to evaluate students at the end of each semester, and if I don’t find a way to return their papers to them in class, I’m going to end up with a colossal stack of folders that I have to keep for at least a year. This sort of thing can be mitigated entirely by the use of electronic submission, grading, and return, not to mention the fact that I can seem to keep my electronic world organized, although my real world papers, etc. seem to get scattered to the four winds almost immediately.

What do you think? Is this something I should continue looking into, or should I just put my head back down and keep carrying all this paper around?

Posted in Teaching | 4991 Comments »

October 18, 2010 by Justin.

I have a problem with my students.

To be fair, I have several problems with them, but this one I think I might have finally figured out. You see, for the past several years I’ve been careful to note in my syllabi that staplers are a requirement for the course. I don’t want torn corners, folds, plastic paper clips, or other such ridiculous nonsense holding papers together because such strategies just don’t work, and then for some reason the blame falls on me when papers return to their owners with a significant chunk missing. I also don’t think that it’s the responsibility of the student who follows the rules to cover for the one who’s too lazy or cheap to do so. No, I make very clear to my students that they are now in college, that they are now adults, and that they can go out and make stapling arrangements of their very own. Then, each semester, as the easy stuff gets put behind us and we start dealing with the real meat of the course, they invariably ignore or forget this simple requirement.

Well, about a week ago, Julie and I were rummaging through a clearance bin and found some stapler sets for $1.25–a price well within the means of students who spend $5 on a cup of bad coffee. Granted, the stapler is hideously ugly (think half-purple, half-pink, all evil), but it dawned on me that I could use this thing to make a point to my students. I bought two, opened one, and wrote “The Stapler of Shame” on it in large, bold letters. I then let my students know that there would be a slight change in the rules for the course:

1. There will be no sharing of staplers during class. Your fellow classmates should not be responsible for your failure to adhere to the rules.
2. Instead, a publicly available stapler will be provided.
3. In order to use this stapler, you must first stand in front of the entire class and sing the following lines to the tune of “I’m a Little Teapot”:

“I forgot my stapler.
Silly me!
Now my papers scatter
messily.
I’m asking for your stapler
on bendéd knee
So this assignment can
count for me!”

Yes, they must accompany each set of lines with an appropriate gesture.

Once the song is complete, the student may use the Stapler of Shame, but he or she must also carry the Stapler to each class period until another student needs the stapler. Then the new student keeps the stapler until someone else needs it. Wash, rinse, repeat.

This is obviously a variation on something you might see at summer camp, which is where the title of this post comes in. If avoiding this kind of public embarrassment means going out and getting a stapler, or at least never coming to class without having stapled the paper already, then I think the consequences will seem more real to the students. What’s more, I don’t have to look like a monster or even a hardass teacher; I can look like a camp counsellor, instead, and we can all laugh a little bit–even the one singing. So what if we’ve had to step back into childhood for a few minutes? We’ll be making progress.

It won’t be long before I know if the situation works and I can say we’ve made progress. I’ll try to post about the effect of these policies a little later, after some actual singing has occurred.

Posted in Daily Activities, Reflections | 2890 Comments »

October 7, 2010 by Justin.

For those of you out there who’re wondering why I would give up teaching full time to take on the responsibilities of teaching and taking classes when it just didn’t seem like I had that much fun with it last time (and I’ve spoken to one or two of you), I thought I should explain myself.I love being a student.  I love the fact that I can walk into a room and be 99% sure that I’ll come out of it having grown as a person in some way.  There are some notable exceptions, but for the most part my status as Grad Student allows me to do just that.  If I get to speak to other, younger students on a regular basis about how writing is important and how they really should pay attention to a few of these concerns called “guidelines” while writing in college, so much the better–especially since they’re paying me to do it.

Therein lies the crux, however, and I wanted to spend a couple of minutes writing about what I’m doing here and why I think this is a smart career move; I especially want to spend that time explaining why I didn’t go to law school and start raking in the big bucks like a smart kid would have done.

Julie forwarded on an article to me yesterday that detailed the difference between previous generations and the current college crowd, also referred to as the “millennial generation.”  The e-mail asserts that these students are highly sophisticated in their learning and their living techniques, doing well with structured activities and group work and approaching most tasks with a technological savvy that makes handling data and information second nature to them.  On the flipside of that coin is the fact that these students have never known a world without structured activities (”helicopter parents”) and have a materialistic set of values that translates into the ability to buy and sell just about anything, including a college education.

Much of what the article asserts can be found in my students, including the values part, but I don’t necessarily think that a change of values is inherently bad.  It just makes far more difficult the creation and maintenance of a healthy academic relationship between me and my students because my own set of values–tied to this or any other generation–do not fit that mold.  How could they?  I’ve chosen to enter a professional field where the stress levels are extremely high, the hours are long, and the pay is far less than what other individuals with comparable degrees receive.  I obviously do not have a similar set of wants and desires for my life, and there are several students who don’t understand that, seeing teachers as service providers and nothing more.

Yes, according to this article, most undergraduates believe that the difference between a college instructor and a barista is that the instructor doesn’t have to try to talk you into the next larger size beverage.

I’m going to try to not let all that bother me, though, because true or not, I can’t do a darn thing about it without calling students on their base assumptions about the meaning of life in class (and I’m pretty sure that would end poorly, probably with torches and pitchforks).  Instead, I’m going to allow them their assumptions and, along the way, perhaps try to show a select few how rewarding a life that isn’t bound solely by a paycheck can be.  I’m going to talk to my students about the kinds of things I like doing, for one thing.  I ran into a student yesterday evening at the library, and when she asked me what I was doing, I just told her that I had checked out a German book about an Old English manuscript about plants, and I showed her the material.  She immediately recoiled from the idea of what I was studying, of course (we’re not all fools, I suppose), but the fact that I was excited about the material I’m studying may have made a more important connection.  This student, after all, had met with me earlier in the day to talk about why her paper was not of the same quality she had thought it to be when she turned it in.  We talked about the act of evaluation of work and the criteria used, and how working hard is only one small part of the whole when gauging “goodness.”  She had paid her money for the class and was upset that she didn’t get the return on investment she expected, so she was disappointed.  Seeing me in the library is the exact opposite of that transactionary model of education: I was there, studying what I like to study regardless of what anyone else thinks, overworked and underpaid and enjoying myself.  Her reaction was something to the effect of, “I’m glad we have someone to do that stuff,” implying that she was even more glad that she didn’t have to.  What I’m hoping she asked herself as she walked away is “What kinds of things could I study that would make me feel that attached to my own work?”  I love what I do because everything in my world can be bent towards my own interests.  Corporate executives are often wealthy, yes, but academics are rarely truly bored.

It’s important for our students to understand that life is not entirely made up of materialistic concerns and economic transactions of various types of capital.  It’s important that they get the idea of pursuing something besides the newest car, biggest house, and shiniest iPod.  They needn’t adopt the values of others any more than I need to adopt theirs, but if they hope to succeed in the realm of the University, these students are going to have to understand the people who are teaching them.  When that happens, a far more viable approach to learning becomes possible.

Posted in Daily Activities, Rants | 1240 Comments »