Hi everyone. This is a short one, but I'm riled up and need to share. I recognize that I am late to the conversation and that there are probably MANY facets of this that I am not considering. For all of you who are engaged with this issue already, keep fighting the good fight. And sign me up.
Here in academics a large portion of our productivity is measured in publications. Conference presentations, conference papers, peer-reviewed journals, books. The publications that I have produced will cost a person $35-85 per copy (no, I don't get any of that). In order to be published I sign away my copyrights to the publisher, and they charge what "the market" allows them for copies.
Here's the crazy part: ALL of my research was/is funded ultimately by US tax dollars. You read that right. You (presuming you're a US taxpayer) supported my, and many other, research programs. But in order to access the results YOU HAVE TO PAY MORE! Or become a "member" of a university community (i.e. enroll and pay tuition). Even if my research were privately funded we have some serious questions to answer regarding the function of University Research.
The easy way to say this is that many people have zero chance of accessing the bulk of human thought, research, and development. Ever. Would you pay $85 for an article you might be interested in? What if you lived in a country where you were lucky to make that amount of money in a month?
Someday I hope to hold a position as a professor. I have a long and storied set of reasons for this career choice that you can find hidden in my other posts, or in a unified post someday (if I ever manage to put words to all of this at once). In order to earn that position I'll need to produce a number of peer-reviewed research publications.
To become a professor at a educational institution I'll need to produce new thought, new technology, and/or advance the human condition in some way. I'll then need to take this contribution and write about it. Then I'll hand it off to a series of (much appreciated) peer-reviewers. After we've got it worked out and perfect,
I'll hide it forever, unless you pay my publisher lots of money.
Aaron, I'm sorry. And I promise I'll do what I can. More will come of this.
Dedicated to Maurice F Durfee and Paul Montalbano, January, 2014
So I started writing this post in August (2013). Then the busyness of the Fall Semester hit, and this went on hold. So before I get rolling, I'd like to take this chance to invite you to reflect with me a bit. Picture yourself in August. Where were you? What were you doing? Did you have a good summer? In August, where did you picture you'd be at this point? Are you there?
I'd just come off a summer filled with long work hours at the lab. Anyone who's tried to earn a PhD through an experimental study can probably sympathize. Lots of building, wiring, running hoses, debugging acquisition code, and making plans. At the time, I didn't feel like I had much to show for it all. The project was behind, the experiments weren't run, and when asked the question, "When are you graduating?", I pushed my guess back yet again (come on May 2014!).
Now, I'm happy to say that things are on track. The experiment is working well (knocking on everything made of wood around me), data is flowing, analysis is happening, and I'm actually where I'd hoped to be! In addition, I'm working half time with a group on campus hoping to lead the Learning Revolution, rethinking what we're doing in higher education, and how we might do better than ever before.
May, 2014
So I resumed writing this post in January (2014). Then the busyness of the Spring Semester hit, and this went on hold. So before I get rolling, I'd like to take this chance to invite you to reflect with me a bit. Picture yourself in January. Where were you? What were you doing? Did you have a good Fall? In January, where did you picture you'd be at this point? Are you there?
I'd just come off a Fall filled with long work hours at the lab. Anyone who's tried to earn a PhD through an experimental study can probably sympathize. Lots of building, wiring, running hoses, debugging acquisition code, and making plans. At the time, I didn't feel like I had much to show for it all. The project was behind, the experiments weren't run, and when asked the question, "When are you graduating?", I pushed my guess back yet again (come on December 2014!).
Now, I'm happy to say that things are on track. The experiment is working well (knocking on everything made of wood around me), data is flowing, analysis is happening, and I'm actually where I'd hoped to be! Unfortunately, I'm no longer working half time with a group on campus hoping to lead the Learning Revolution, rethinking what we're doing in higher education, and how we might do better than ever before. I hope I can get back there some day.
September, 2014
So I (re)resumed writing this post in May (2014). Then the busyness of the Summer hit, and this went on hold. So before I get rolling, I'd like to take this chance to invite you to reflect with me a bit. Picture yourself in May. Where were you? What were you doing? Did you have a good Spring? In May, where did you picture you'd be at this point? Are you there?
I'd just come off a Spring filled with long work hours at the lab. Anyone who's tried to earn a PhD through an experimental study can probably sympathize. Lots of building, wiring, running hoses, debugging acquisition code, and making plans. At the time, I didn't feel like I had much to show for it all. The project was behind, the experiments weren't run, and when asked the question, "When are you graduating?", I simply responded by asking "How much do you weigh?" (both questions evoke the same self-conscious feelings). (come on December 2014!)
Now, I'm happy to say that things are. The experiment worked, data flowed, analysis is happening, and I'm actually writing. Did I measure everything I hoped for? No. Did I get enough? I think so. Will my dissertation change the world? Probably not. But I will. Fortunately, I'm back spending some time with a group on campus leading the Learning Revolution, rethinking what we're doing in higher education, and how we might do better than ever before. Best 3 hours of my week.
RECURSION
Believe it or not, there is a day coming in which I will have earned my PhD. I must be getting close, because I've finally realized that my degree has ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH JET ENGINES. As with all meaningful endeavors, plans change and iterations happen. The thing we are left with at the end is usually far different from what we pictured at the beginning. ITS OK.
Believe it or not, there is a day coming in which I will have finished this post. I must be getting close, because I've finally realized that this post has ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH ME. As with all meaningful endeavors, plans change and iterations happen. The thing we are left with at the end is usually far different from what we pictured at the beginning. ITS OK.
So what have been trying to say to you for the last year, but never quite getting to it? Here goes nothing...
The Best Instructions Ever
The introduction to The New Media Reader gives two instructions to anyone reading the text:
This is the business of being human. This is our legacy. This is our dream. This is why we talk to each other. This is why we go to work. This is why we go to school. Its scary. Its messy. We won't get it right the first time. But we will get it right.
Along with my friends and colleagues in the Connected Courses (a connected course about connected courses), we are engaging in one of my favorite recursive, meta activities. We're trying to:
Make new ways to make things. Rethink the way we rethink things.
"The End of Higher Education?"
End. [end]. noun. an intention or aim
This is where we started. What is the End of higher Education? I believe its actually very simple, recursive, meta.
The End of Education is to Make Something, Rethink Something. The End of Education is to Make new ways to make new things, Rethink the way we rethink things.
If someone ever asks me, "How do you get a PhD?" I'll answer, "By figuring out how to get a PhD." Finally I know I'm ready for my final degree. Now I know The End.
Gardner, this one is for you. This post is centered around a few scenes from my favorite episode of the West Wing. [Opening scene. The President of the United States and his Press Secretary having a conversation] President: Galileo five! Press Secretary: Yes, sir. President: Just the name... Press Secretary: Galileo five! President: You can feel the adventure. Press Secretary: Yes, indeed. President: NASA's great at naming things. Press Secretary: They are. President: Mercury, Apollo, Atlantis, the Sea of Tranquility, the Ocean of Storms... Press Secretary: Good names! President: First time I heard 'Galileo V,' the way the imagination immediately... Say the name. Press Secretary: I said the name. President: Say it again. Your imagination, like a child, will explode with unrestrained possibilities for adventure. Press Secretary: [with gusto] Galileo V!
Professional vs. Personal
"A good idea will keep you awake during the morning, but a great idea will keep you awake during the night."
Until the last year or so I've never had much of a problem keeping my work life and my personal life separate. Sure, I was friends with people from work, and as a graduate student much of my personal life has been on hold waiting for the day I finish my degree and "life can start." I've enjoyed my job researching jet engines and made a lot of professional contacts along the way. Every once in a while I've had the chance to work on an idea that was extra exciting for me (a big challenge, something new and creative, etc..) but for the most part its been a job that I work, enjoy, and look forward to leaving behind to go home for the night or weekend.
Then I started teaching.
Something snapped. Seeing someone who truly wanted to learn and being able to help them along is something I'd never really trained for (or wanted to do). But the feeling I get when they're struggling and finally "get it?" The magic of watching someone conceive an entirely new idea? Experiencing raw creativity and curiosity? The opportunity to show someone what they are really capable of? There is no greater high in the world! My "imagination, like a child, [explodes] with unrestrained possibilities for adventure!"
"... the Element - the place where the things you love to do and the things that you are good at come together. [People who have found their Element] are special [because] they have found what they love to do and they are actually doing it."
-Ken Robinson
"The Element" (emphasis added)
I lose sleep over teaching. Not because I'm stressed about it, but because it drives so deep that I can't put it down. I can't wait to explore a new idea or a better way to inspire/encourage learners.
I quickly found that I'm not the only one.
And what a great community of "In-Element Educators" I've had the privilege to be a part of! They are questioning how we do things in education, challenging the short comings of our methods, and striving to improve, inspire, ignite. My discussions with them are the high-points of my "work" day. And when you make professional contact with someone who speaks into your deep passions, it can't help but get personal. We're not just talking about my 9-5 job anymore. And it can be risky. Many are strongly opposed to change and like "business as usual". At one point early on, so was I.
Ok. Back to the West Wing. A little plot synopsis (spoiler alert)
So the President is excited about a new Mars lander called Galileo V that is supposed to land on the Red Planet today. He's scheduled a special live "classroom" event in which he will be speaking with a NASA panel to K12 students, answering their questions sent in by email (which, in the time the episode aired, was an amazing concept. Children being able send a message instantly to the President, and have him respond instantly on TV!). One problem: during the landing process NASA loses communication with Galileo V and it looks like the highly disappointed President will have to cancel the event to avoid media embarrassment.
At the same time, the President must attend a concert performed by the Reykjavik Orchestra for some political reasons, and he's dreading it.
Aid: After intermission, they'll be performing the world premier of a piece...
President: Played on teapots and gefilte fish.
Aid: ... by a new Icelandic composer. They told me he got so nervous when he heard you were coming that he was rewriting the piece until 6 o'clock.
President: If he wants more time, I'd be happy to take a rain check.
Aid: I thought you liked classical music.
President: This is not classical music. It's not classical music if the guy finished writing it this afternoon.
[Later, after the concert. The Press Secretary approaches the President]
President: Did you hear the end of the concert?
Press Secretary: I didn't hear much of the concert at all. How was it?
President: Well, first of all, let's not kid ourselves. The Reykjavik Symphony can play. These guys have some serious game. In this particular case, their talents were tragically misapplied to an atonal nightmare of pretention, but after the intermission... [looks up at the night sky]
Press Secretary: After intermission?
President: They played a piece by a new composer. First, I wasn't hearing it. I had 19 different things on my mind, but then I did, and, it was magnificent. It was genius. He built these themes, and at the beginning, it was just an intellectual exercise, which is fun enough, I guess, but then in the fourth movement, he just let it go. I really didn't think I could be surprised by music anymore. I thought about all the times this guy must've heard that his music was no good... I've got to write this guy a letter.
Resistance.
Look at the progression of the President's thinking. First, because he is busy with his own concerns and has his own idea of what is best, he mocks the new composer's music. Next, whether he wants to or not, he attends the concert. He's distracted and doesn't really listen, but the skill of the players captures his attention. He comes to appreciate the "intellectual exercise" presented by the composer. Then he marvels at the final execution of the idea, inspired by a new idea in an area that he thought was out of fresh ideas. He stops to consider the adversity the composer must have faced, the discouragement from his critics.
Change is hard. Change threatens those who are established and comfortable. More often than not in education, I see changes happening from the bottom up. Lone teachers trying something new that works. Taking it to their superiors and making a case. Sometimes it sticks, other times they're told that "their music is no good." The result: changes happen far too slowly for any current students to benefit.
Unfortunately, our system cannot be improved through incremental changes. What we need is a radical rethinking. A peaceful revolution. An educational renaissance.
Universities are funny places.
They're constantly evolving. Few places in the world have such a huge turnaround rate. To borrow some words of wisdom from my advisor:
"The job of the university is to get rid of its best talent."
We try to recruit promising talent (in the form of incoming freshmen). Then we try to develop that talent over 4-ish years through classes, research experience, clubs, and senior capstone projects. Finally, when they've started to gain some serious muscle and honed their talents, we send them off to take on the world. Until recently I thought that this idea applied only to students, that institutions like tenure insulated the faculty from so much motion. Not quite true. The university is a crucible. As we are refined our positions shift, sometimes internally, sometimes we move on. As our "best talent" moves on, it makes way for rising stars to take their shot. And I think that's how it should be. We are all in this place to grow and pursue the best version of ourselves. Students. Faculty. Staff. Administration. The growth process requires motion.
The time is now!
We have a limited amount of time with the people we come in contact with here. Lectures are 50 minutes, office hours are finite, semesters end, and we probably won't see most of our students ever again. We may only get this one moment to make a difference. This instant is precious, cherish it, maximize it. We cannot afford to take it slow, make small changes, incrementally improve at a rate that maybe our grandchildren will benefit. We can't afford to resolve to be better tomorrow. That wastes today. Be better right now, it could be one of a very few moments in time that you get to spend with that student. Let us take our (fun) intellectual exercises and really let them go, so that we may marvel at the execution of a game-changing idea. Let's surprise ourselves. A friend of mine recently said:
"If you can measure the size of your impact, you haven't made much of a difference."
The closing scene:
Press Secretary: Mr. President, about that televised classroom tomorrow... President: I'm gonna wait up for a while. See if we hear anything. It's out there somewhere... it's so close. Press Secretary: I think you should do the classroom either way. President: Yeah?
Press Secretary: We have, at our disposal, a captive audience of schoolchildren. Some of them don't go to the blackboard and raise their hand 'cause they think they're gonna be wrong. I think you should say to these kids, "you think you get it wrong sometimes? You should come down here and see how the big boys do it." I think you should tell them you haven't given up hope, and that it may turn up, but in the meantime, you want NASA to put its best people in the room, and you want them to start building Galileo VI. Some of them will laugh, and most of them won't care, but for some, they might honestly see that it's about going to the blackboard and raising your hand. And that's the broader theme.
My friend, I'll miss you. Raise your hand. Your music is surprising and beautiful. Meanwhile, here, we will put our best people in the room and start working on Galileo VI.
OK, I recognize that this is a touchy subject, so I'll tread lightly (for now). The heck with that, let's get dirty!
"You, my friend, are going towards turbulent flows."
An Anonymous Friend
Today, after telling him about what I'm writing
We follow rigid grading rubrics hoping to be "fair" to everyone. The problem is that these grading structures put us "fairly" off base.
"Grades tend to diminish students' interest in whatever they're learning. A "grading orientation" and a "learning orientation" have been shown to be inversely proportional...
Grades create a preference for the easiest possible task. Impress upon students that what they're doing will count towards their grade, and their response will likely be to avoid taking any unnecessary intellectual risks...
Grades tend to reduce the quality of students' thinking. They may skim books for what they'll "need to know." They're less likely to wonder, say, "How can we be sure that's true?" than to ask "Is this going to be on the test?"
Rate of Learning?
Imagine the situation in which a student learns the material at a slower pace than others in the class. The student earns a poor score on the first exam. This feedback inspires the student to try a different approach to learning and (s)he grasps the material in time for the final exam. Following the rigid rubric, this student's grade will be lower than another who learned the material faster, even though both may be leaving the course with the same understanding.
What is the message here? What do we really value? The rate at which a student learns? Rate of production is a crucial concept to efficient manufacturing.
Get it "Right" the first time?
Students are penalized for making mistakes. The result is that students are afraid to try anything unorthodox, or explore.
"I just want to know what formula to use to solve the problem the right way."
There is a high level of pressure on students to get things "right" the first time. Our RED PEN feedback system helps drive this home. If a student misses a question, points are lost and final course grades are affected. GPA drops and that homework problem or test problem just influenced the rest of my life. (OK, that's a bit extreme, but its the logical end to the thought).
The Root of the Problem
We have a need in education to determine how a student is doing. Students need feedback so that they may improve upon problem areas. Educators need to see how their students are doing so that they may assess the effectiveness of their teaching.
There is a long list of other reasons typically thrown up in the case for grades, but I think they are rubbish. One of the big ones is that "if we don't grade it, students won't do it." Yes, let's hold our students hostage with threats against their future success rather than providing true motivation.
Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths, Enwrought with golden and silver light, The blue and the dim and the dark cloths Of night and light and the half-light, I would spread the cloths under your feet: But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet, Tread softly because you tread on my dreams
W. B. Yeats
I think we may have started, long ago, with these two goals in mind. However, our "factory model" education system has polluted those goals, mainly due to the fact that we are trying to educate so many people. Call the EPA (Educational Protection Agency)! Scaling Issues
With a large class, the task of providing feedback is not trivial. Graders must streamline the process by providing the least amount of feedback possible. They look over the work, think about what the student did, and try to scribble something down to let them know where mistakes were made. If only the student could hear the grader's thoughts! (In light of what I'm about to say, I think they call this foreshadowing) Very rarely is any positive feedback given. For the most part, graders write down just enough to justify the score on the assignment. I don't fault them for this, they simply don't have the time to give meaningful, content-rich responses to each student's work.
The problem is that, from the students' perspective, this type of feedback is more a slap in the face than constructive criticism. Rather than a teachable moment, we offer up judgement and discouragement.
I have not failed. I've just found 1000 ways that won't work.
Thomas Edison
Let's change the message.
Learner-Centered Feedback (Stop Grading and Start Reviewing)
With tablets and pen inputs for computers we have the ability to record ourselves as we mark up a document. Imagine marking up a student's electronic homework submission. The grader no longer needs to write a detailed response to help the student learn from issues. The grader can record his/her thoughts in audio format while marking up the work.
Rather than grade the work we can review the work and provide meaningful feedback (audio) to the learner. I think if we did this right, it would actually save time for grader. Most people can speak much faster than they can write or type.
We could add "content area" tags to individual homework problems. Over time, the student's aggregated results would point out sticking points in a particular course and focus the student's study/improvement efforts. If a visual representation of this were available to the grader small bits of encouragement could emerge: "I see that the First Law is starting to click for you, good job!"
I can see clearly now....
Synced with the interactive Degree Path Sheet, a student would have a much better view of where they are. With our current approach most students can't see what's going on. All they see are a few "red x's" that leave them feeling less intelligent, or that "I just don't understand Thermodynamics." Truth is that's usually not the case. Maybe the real issue is a small part of it that creeps up in most problems.
OK, enough words...
Let me show you an example of what I am picturing, from an engineers perspective (sorry, I haven't graded anything else!):
If you kept track, I spent about 2 minutes providing feedback on this problem. In a class of 60 students, with an average of 10 homework problems per assignment, this translates to 20 hours of grading work. Interestingly enough, that's the exact amount of time that my grader logs while providing RED PEN feedback right now.
A few things to work out:
First, I'm laughing at myself for using a RED PEN while making this video. I imagine a better system in which I can use "cursor points" or a "focus bubble" to show what I'm looking at.
Second, the "tags" idea isn't a worksheet, but I'm not Java programmer. The check-mark image was supposed to represent clicking on tags.
Third, I DO use a red pen while grading currently. This idea is new for me this week, and I hope to implement a refined version of this system next time I teach a course.
Fourth, I DO collect the homework for a grade. I'll explain...
Some other things you might have seen:
Did you notice that the numerical answers were provided with the problem statement? This is a trick I use to maximize the self-learning for my students. With the answers to homework problems available, students know whether they've got it or not long before they turn it in. Assuming they start the work early enough, they can find the help they need before turning in the assignment.
Did you notice that I showed two submissions from the same student? I actually do this as well. In my course I try very hard to encourage my students to make mistakes and learn from them. This learning business is messy and most of what sticks in our minds comes from getting things wrong at first.
I allow my students to re-submit the work as many times as it takes, and they can earn full credit on every problem even if they don't get it until the last day of the semester. Effort and engagement is encouraged and rewarded. Based on their feedback, this is working as I hoped it would!
Closing: The Message
Once again, the "Medium is the Message." I hope that by taking advantage of the digital media tools available to us, we can shift the message that we send learners. Let's send the message that experimenting is a good thing. Let's send the message that mistakes are a good thing. Let's send the message that our students deserve more than some messy red pen graffiti all over their work. At the risk of starting a riot:
STUDENTS: Like what you see? Are you tired of getting RED PEN all over your work? Demand more from your teachers!
Try turning your homework in written completely in RED PEN.
The degree path sheet is a very helpful tool for students. This single page summarizes all of the courses that they need to take to complete the degree, including links (connecting lines) to pre- and co-requisites. As I pursued my undergraduate degree I referred to this page very often. (Side note: In my day the form was in black and white! I've always wanted to say that...)
I think we can take advantage of the digital medium and do better.
Add more information (information that's already available elsewhere)
Couldn't this be an interactive web app? Imagine being able to click each course and find useful information. Linked to the scheduling system, times that the course is offered could be displayed, along with the number of open seats. Click the one you want to instantly add it to your schedule. The entire app could sync with the student's transcript, showing completed courses and grades. Courses could be "clickable" only if the pre/co-requisites are satisfied. Selecting a course could automatically select co-requisite courses.
Professor bios could be linked displayed, allowing students to pick their teacher based on research interests and examples used in class. We could add lecture previews, student reviews, links to course materials, and publications by the professor. Previous class projects could be linked, letting prospective students see what those who have come before learned.
As a student progresses, the system could "learn" her/his preferences and recommend certain elective courses or professors that align with the student's interests and learning styles.
The learning management system (even though I don't like the current one much) could be linked in, allowing the student to use this page as a launch to current classes. Information such as current grade and how much of a course grade remains could be available. GPA (which I also don't like) scenarios could also be computed.
If we got to a point where students could truly customize their education, a % Complete bar could indicate how much of the course they have completed based on the learning modules they have selected. The division between subjects and the need for completing a course in a certain semester could be eliminated. Imagine this entire sheet broken into smaller chunks of concepts that add up to form a uniquely-designed curriculum.
How ready am I for this course?
A preparedness index could be fashioned based on a student's past performance in prerequisite courses. Suggestions for important background material that the student found challenging in the past could be offered as study aids over breaks, before the course begins. If we changed the way we grade (see next post) the system could point out specific areas that the student should work on. Example: the introductory course I teach uses first-order ordinary differential equations, but that's about it from the "Differential Equations" course that is listed as a prerequisite. If a student struggled with that part of Differential Equations we could flag it for them.
Perhaps over time this is an answer to a challenge facing almost ALL courses: we spend the first 1/3 of the semester reviewing concepts from previous courses.
A Liberal Education
If you take a close look at the degree path sheet, you'll see classes marked "Area 1" and "Area 2" etc. As part of a liberal education, we have 7 Core Areas that students must engage with to complete a degree. As a student, I never took the time to read the description of these Areas (take a look at the link). The truth is that the idea behind each is beautiful and very exciting. Why can't these show up on the interactive degree path sheet as well? I wish I had seen the inspiring ideas behind these requirements, rather than just "toughing it out" through some required "useless" courses. They get at the heart of the difference between education and job training. The available courses that satisfy an "Area" during any given semester could also be suggested/shown.
My Story is Different!
One of the big drawbacks to the rigid degree path sheet is that very few people follow it. We all have extenuating circumstances (drop a class, change majors, take a co-op) that put us "off schedule". In a year of teaching, I've met very few students who are actually "on track."
This sheet serves as a constant reminder that students are off track, or that they are somehow "doing it wrong".
Why not make each class "draggable"? Students could slide the courses around, and maybe even add a "solve my schedule" function that charts a path to degree completion based on current standing and course availability.
The New Message
The point here is that with some application of fairly standard web design, the message we send is completely changed:
"We recognize that you are a unique individual with a unique story, and we want to meet you where you are at and help guide you along. You don't have to fit our mold, because there is no mold to fit. Your education is important to us, and you are in the driver's seat."
