Category Archives: Reflections

STLHE

I have spent the last three days at the annual conference of the Society for Teaching and Learning in Higher Education in Toronto. Wow, I have hit exhaustion. So many ideas. So many engaging conversations. Inspired. Overwhelmed. I can’t do it all. But I can do. The challenge over the next few days for me will be to hold on to the most important nuggets. A list of some key ideas to help:

  • Embrace the Smackdown in Teaching Smackdowns. Try to find out what real issues are facing faculty in our department, and invite conversation. Consider a panel including undergrad and grad students, faculty, and administrators. Ground the discussion in the literature. — from Pedagogical Provocations workshop (e.g., Connie @ U of A)
  • A cat doesn’t come until the can opener sounds. Creative insight doesn’t occur with out work. — a metaphor Amanda Burk heard
  • What in my courses is taught/assessed, taught/not assessed (and so on to fill out the quadrants)? Decision points. — from someone Amanda Burk heard
  • Students learn what they do. What are students in my classes doing?
  • To download a Youtube video, add pwn before youtube in the url.
  • To teach “knowledge-ability” (1) enage in real problems, (2) with students, (3) while harnessing the relevant tools. — Michael Wesch @ Kansas; implications for my 208 assignment; see ideas document
  • To examine  test questions: What is the test question asking? What learning is the question evaluating? How can it be re-written so these align? Consider cognitive load theory. — Joanne Nakonechny
  • “On an exam, I ask you to be competent, not clever. On an assignment you have 2 weeks to think about, I ask you to be clever.” — another participant’s comment re: evaluation
  • Break down a tough exam question. Think out loud as I respond. What assumptions do I make? Can I structure the question so that students demonstrate understanding of the theory, then ability to use it, then ability to apply it, then ability to turn it on its head. — insight from Joanne’s session.
  • Email my former student Gillian about her work on the NSSE.
  • Think about how I can help demystify academia for my students.
  • At the first year level, you are joining the professional academic community. What impact does that have for my first weeks of class? Tie professional communication to job preparation. Email and general etiquette. Give examples of high quality work, compare to poor quality, and differentiate them. — from Professionalism session (Waterloo connection)
  • Celebrate failure: “How fascinating!”  — from Nicola Simmons’ session (Waterloo office of learning and teaching)
  • (How) can I contribute to the Scholarship of Teaching and Learning? What will that look like in my career? How can I balance this in the context of my other responsibilities, especially in terms of time? — from Nicola Simmons’ session (Waterloo office of learning and teaching)
  • What excites me about SoTL is the potential for collaborating with students and colleagues, making a meaningful contribution, expanding the impact of my work, staying accountable for my teaching and learning actions. — from Nicola Simmons’ session (Waterloo office of learning and teaching)
  • Grad student teaching portfolio resources: http://www.mcgill.ca/tls/teachingportfolio/
  • Interdisciplinarity: There are more commonalities that one would think. The creative process as described by artists is not unlike the process of developing research and writing it up. We don’t talk about it in the same way, but the processes of attempts, failure, revision, inspiration, feedback/peer review — and the accompanying emotional roller coaster — have many parallels. There are also common issues in teaching people to do really difficult things: e.g., learn technical proficiency and content, critically evaluate their own and others’ work.

This list became much longer than I had anticipated it would, given my fatigue. Yet one of the most important things I’ve learned this year is that whenever I’m close to exhaustion, I can easily be energized by thinking about teaching and learning.

“summer” happenings

What does an instructor do when there is no one around to instruct? What does a garden do when there is no sun?

I’m learning the answers to both of those questions. The latter question is visually apparent to me right now: It does not grow many flowers, but it does grow lots of foliage. Lots and lots of foliage. I have dill that’s two feet tall! Leaves of all the flowering plants are overlapping. But few flowers.

The former question is also becoming quite apparent. I’m building. Developing. Planning. Reading. Meeting. (So many meetings!) Thinking. Writing. I’m starting to become concerned with all I’m doing! Some examples, if you’re interested: I’m planning TA and TF Development programming for the fall/winter. I met with public affairs to discuss a potential media piece on learning strategies, based off my 208 course. I’m writing a review of a textbook in preparation for an upcoming Canadian edition (more on that later!) — it’s the one I use for 217, and there’s a possibility I might be involved in the “Canadianizing” of it. I’m helping Sunaina to plan for our Psychology Tri-Mentoring program. I’m working with colleagues to start a casual network of instructors within the Faculty of Arts. I’m attending an orientation to become a peer reviewer of teaching (so exciting!). Oh, and I’m planning syllabi and assignments and lesson ideas and gathering new content for my courses! Wow. Write it all out like this is a little overwhelming. But that’s one of the things I really like about my job. I get to challenge myself to do more, think more, and be more. It can be an addiction though, and I need to watch out I don’t plan too much for the fall!

pearls of wisdom

Today Sunaina and I had the pleasure of lunching with Russ Day, Senior Lecturer and head of the Intro Psych program at SFU. Of the many insightful ideas he shared with us, a few stand out for me in particular. Most potently, he built on the idea of of 20-60-20: 20% of students will learn in spite of you, 20% may not be sufficiently motivated to learn from you at all, but that middle 60% is where our biggest impact can be as instructors. So if I pitch my course at the 80th percentile of students, the top 20% won’t be too bored, the bottom 20% will be disengaged, but I have the potential to truly engage and challenge 60% of my students. This is interesting on its own, but he pushed it further into what this would mean for student evaluations. The students in the, say, 21st-25th percentiles will be pushed too far if I’m pitching for the 80th percentile. A psychologically healthy response to failure is an external attribution: i.e., to blame me. So if I’m not getting about 2-3% of students feeling frustrated by my course, I may be pitching my course at too easy of a level. Wow!!! That is powerful! (I’m reminded here about something else we discussed: Chickering & Gamson’s 7 Principles, one of which is “communicate high expectations.”) So often I (and others) ruminate about those few extremely critical comments in the student evaluations, and have to find ways to cope with them… but Russ offered such a thoughtful and realistic perspective on those comments! Instead, I should be ruminating on the positive comments, trying to figure out exactly what I did to connect with that student so I can do more of it.

The second idea that really stands out for me was our discussion about being a scholar. As a scholar, there is no choice but to keep up with the literature. For me, that means content, but also as a teaching-focused scholar, the education literature. This is a challenge to me, one that’s been in the back of my mind for a while now. One thing I do to help with this is that I attend the Carl Wieman Science Education Initiative (CWSEI) reading group weekly during the summer months. This is one step in the right direction. Where can I build more literature into my life?

Course Evaluation Season Arrives!

My plans for working on revisions to a manuscript were derailed this morning by the news that our Student Evaluations of Teaching from last term were released. Reading these evaluations is an emotional event for me, and this is particularly true on the first look (of many!). As always, I’m filled with anxiety and hesitation: Did my students like me? Did they appreciate the risks I took in class? In testing? Did I push them to learn — just enough or too much or not enough? Did they take the time to complete the evaluations? (fyi: 583 did — which represents 54% of all my students.)

For the first look today I examined the numbers, particularly the six UBC University Module Items (UMIs), just to get a feel for what they’re saying. Here are my impressions of these numbers for 2009/2010: Overall, I’m satisfied, with some exceptions (both high and low). Psyc 217, Research Methods, is a course I love and have now taught 4 times — and I’m pleased to report that my students rate it highly. Students in my Intro Psychology courses, both terms, rated me well but not exceptional, and I think that’s totally fair. It was my first time teaching those courses, and the numbers are in the range of those I received the first time I taught Psyc 217. Onward and upward!

Across all 6 courses I taught this year, my highest scores come from the “Concern for Students” UMI. This tells me that my deep value of caring for students and their learning is being witnessed in the eyes of my students, through my efforts to this put this value into action (e.g., see my teaching philosophy). Wonderful news!

My lowest ratings come from the “Fair Evaluations” item, and this concerns me. These numbers, particularly for this of all items, are difficult to interpret: Are my students perceiving the learning assessments to be very challenging (which I don’t mind), or are assessments perceived to be so demanding that success is unattainable (which I do mind)? I definitely need to ponder this one further as I dive more deeply into the data. I already know that my evaluation strategy for 208 will change considerably next year (e.g., the midterm was much too difficult and/or lengthy; peer evaluations of papers didn’t work as smoothly as I’d hoped). Of all my courses this year, 208 was the course rated most poorly by my students. I think a large part of that had to do with the complications with evaluations. It was a brand new, custom course that I designed, and although lots went well (I have loads of data on what great things students learned!), there is a lot of room for improvement.

Overall, I’m feeling pretty good about my student evaluations. They help me to see from students’ perspectives what I do well and where I need to focus my improvement efforts. Thanks to everyone who completed them! I will share further insights as I consider them further. Note that I’ll be working on revising my courses over the summer months. If you were a student in any of my courses this year, and are interested in giving some specific, constructive  feedback on any aspect of the course, please feel free to contact me to set up an appointment.

learning something new

Yesterday I began my journey into learning how to garden! With the guidance of our friend, Lesley Duncan, my husband and I transformed our condo’s dull, concrete balcony into something beautiful, complete with outdoor acacia wood flooring and a variety of filled planters.

I know next to nothing about growing plants. So when we set out in the garden centre I felt a bit anxious and confused. There are so many variables to consider: annual/perennial, sun needs, water needs, space needs, height needs… it was tempting to just give up. But I want to learn. Basic gardening can’t be that difficult, and the results can be beautiful.  So I sought Lesley’s help. She is a thoughtful, patient (award-winning!) teacher generally, and is also quite knowledgeable about horticulture. She helped us make decisions by listening to our needs and ideas, taught us how to plant, when to water, and so on.

Throughout the process, I felt keenly aware of my novice status. I felt emotions including excitement, anxiety, and a strong desire to avoid messing up. The experience reinforced something I have come to learn about myself: I often prefer to learn in communion with others. When I needed to learn about gardening, I didn’t turn first to a book or a website. I turned to a friend, a tutor, a guide, who could help me identify what I needed to know now in a sea of possible knowledge. (I’m now reminded again: “We teach who we are” (Palmer).) It was fun learning something new, but I’m not sure how much fun (rather than stress) I would have had if I didn’t have such a knowledgable, kind guide.

At the end of the day, when we were remarking about the future possibilities of bright flowers and voluptuous herbs, Lesley wisely noted that if something went wrong — a plant didn’t like it there, got over/under-watered or whatever — we would just learn not to do that again next year, but that it wouldn’t be a catastrophe. This simple nugget of wisdom offered me a productive way to frame whatever happens to our plants over the summer. Thanks for being such a great teacher/guide/friend, Lesley!