Category Archives: Reflections

Knowledge is Power?

As the end of Olympic/Spring Break draws near, I’m staring down at my “break to-do list” is realizing there isn’t as much crossed off as I hoped there would be by this time. I do have some key tasks crossed off, but I doubt I am alone in this feeling that I could have accomplished more b now. Last week I took a few days off and it felt so good to relax that I don’t regret that decision. But pulling myself back into work mode has proved challenging. Part of the problem, I think, is distraction. The Olympics are on! In my city, no less! I have surprised myself with how much I have enjoyed tracking how our national athletes are performing — and identifying examples of psychological phenomena (e.g., hindsight bias, social comparison). Another part of the problem is that I have, yet again, fallen prey to the Planning Fallacy: the tendency for people to underestimate the amount of time tasks will take to complete. I have known about the planning fallacy for years, yet I still manage to think I can read and take notes on a chapter, for example, in a couple of hours. That I can sit down and write a 2-3 page lit review in a day or two. Knowledge of biases, it seems, may not always provide the power to combat them.

A quick glance at the literature on the planning fallacy reminds me of the nuances of accurate planning that I forgot to employ when building my to-do list. From their original article on the topic, Buehler, Griffin, and Ross (1994) identified that when estimating completion times people tend to focus on the future, rather than their past experiences with similar activities. More recent work has identified two strategies to employ while planning to combat this fallacy. First, try “unpacking” the activity — breaking it down into component parts (something past experience can help with), and using those components to guage the time it will take to complete it (Kruger & Evans, 2004). Then, form implementation intentions (e.g., “From 8-10am I will conduct a literature search and build an outline for the paper.”) to help with following through and minimizing distractions along the way (Koole & Spijker, 2000). To make the most of my remaining Olympic break moments, I will use these strategies to whittle my to-do list down to a more realistic size and keep me focused as I accomplish those tasks.

Fun with Research Methods!

What's in the bag?

What's in the bag?

I’m having a blast with my research methods students as we explore the basics of the scientific inquiry process. Here, in small groups, they’re grappling with the “hypothesis generation — collect data — revise hypothesis — collect more data” process by exploring what’s in the bag without looking inside. Today, we were mucking around in the messy world of experimental design. All teams did a great job taking a first stab at desiging a study. Well done and thanks for your participation!

Happy New Year!

2009 is rapidly approaching completion… and I must say I’m quite ok with that! A year ago I didn’t have a dissertation written, was headed to an ill-timed teaching conference (NITOP, in Florida), and was anxiously preparing to interview for the Instructor-1 position I now hold. This has been a whirlwind year: I got the job (yay!), defended my dissertation, bought a condo with my husband, and spent four frantic yet satisfying months teaching in my first semester as tenure-track faculty at UBC. Amid all the craziness and exhaustion, I was thrilled (and relieved) to feel a sense of contentment with what I was doing. Teaching six times a week was a harried schedule, and many times I didn’t know how I could make it. But at the end of the day I was happy I was teaching. If I can go through all that in one semester and still love teaching, then this must be the perfect career for me!

As I head in to the new year, I’m feeling a typical mix of emotions. I’m eager and nervous to meet my new students next week; I’m nervous my syllabi won’t be copied on time (I couldn’t submit them until yesterday — yikes!); I’m hopeful that my schedule will be at least a little less hectic than last term. More than anything, I’m looking forward to being back in the classroom, starting fresh on another adventure, ready to learn as much to teach, and to strive each day to create opportunities for students to learn (if they so choose).

Gratitude

I am touched by the responses I’ve received (from both present and former students) to my last post, which described my challenges with teaching about an unfamiliar topic. Your kind words have touched my heart. My intent in posting that reflection was to ensure my blog reflects reality. There are many highs that come from teaching — indeed I love teaching people about psychology. But it certainly has its challenges. Again, thanks for for your compassion, and I look forward to our next class!

Humility

Teaching is a roller coaster. Things can be going well, then all of a sudden the world is spinning past and it feels like death is imminent. Well, today I kind of wished for that. I’m teaching intro psychology for the first time this semester. Most of the topics refresh easily — like memory, learning — but today we started biology. I am not a biologist. When I was in undergrad I took the minimal requirements for biological psychology and not a single concept more. I learned the material long enough to spit it out on the exams, and that was it. And here I am teaching it to people who have never encountered these ideas before — and to people who know some of the concepts much more deeply than this course requires.

Over the weekend I studied the material from the text, prepared my lessons for the week and felt relatively confident I could get through. As soon as my lesson started today, I felt like a fraud and it showed. I crumbled under the weight of this belief about myself that I don’t know biology. I stumbled and stuttered and read my notes quickly (my sympathetic nervous system in full force), I was tethered to my computer, the source of my slides (&, it seemed to me, my knowledge). I panicked and apologized and tried to save it with a (planned) demo and writing activities and still ended 10 minutes early. I left feeling horrified and embarrassed beyond belief.

Thankfully, a colleague was around to help me get through the initial horror and to brainstorm ideas about what to do now. She reminded me that just as one isn’t likely to learn this material the same way one learns other material in psychology, I’m can’t expect to teach it using the same methods I usually use. I can raise the level of abstraction a step or two (e.g, instead of “this is an fMRI” – here is a question we could examine using it) I could get some traction. I could own “this is the level we need to learn this at” and leave it there. I can bring in guest speakers to help answer difficult concepts. I can use comprehension checks for portions of the class so have time to address their questions before the next class. I can use TBL-style methods. And recognize that I just need time to really learn this well.

Then I got an email from a student who happens to know a lot about these processes and, very kindly, affirmed that I didn’t steer anyone in the wrong direction. This email reminded me why I teach — for the students who are there to learn and from whom I learn. So what do I take away from this experience today? Hope (and concrete ideas) for improvement in the future, gratitude for supportive people around me, and a hefty dose of humility.