So I look back on my last few post and think, who is that jaded and bitter blogger? She must just hate her job.
Nothing could be further from the truth. I love what I do. And I'm sorry if that makes those of you that don't love their jobs a little bit jealous. But like anyone, I do have my days. This semester, in fact, I've had quite a few. But today I realized that despite the few bad ones that stick out in my head, I have many really good students. And now, even some of the bad ones are starting to come around.
Case in point. Today was quiz day. It wasn't a pop quiz...for most students, anyway. I gave them fair notice. Hell, I sent out a mass email to all of my students telling them exactly what to study.
Lo and behold....they did. I've been grading the quizzes, and so far, people have been doing pretty good. Very good, in fact.
Maybe the exam--the exam that most of them failed--was a wake-up call. At least, that's what I hope. We'll see if this is the beginning of a trend, or a fluke.
Call it an epiphany...call it dumb luck. I call it a good day in the books.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Saturday, October 17, 2009
It's just not fair...
Apparently I have a lot to learn about being a professor. At least, that seems to be the opinion of some of my students. Specifically, I guess I haven't quite mastered the protocol surrounding post-exam activities.
As I mentioned previously, it's midterm time here at the U. And while the exams themselves are done and gone (at least in my classes), the trauma for the students has yet to subside. Students continue to wander the halls in a Red-Bull induced state of semi-consciousness, mumbling theorums and dates and equations to themselves as they drag themselves from one exam to the next. I thought I would be kind this year and schedule my midterms a little before the rest. Hell, I thought this might actually resort in exam scores that would be higher than the average.
Silly me.
Don't believe me? See my last post. But I digress.
Wanting to ease back into material after the exams, I decided that I would give a light lecture and then a small, in-class assignment to my Introductory classes. I had a couple of points of logic for this move, too. First and foremost, after a particularly disastrous showing on the midterm, I wanted to give them some points to soften the blow, so to speak. But it was my other motivation that became the issue--checking up on classroom attendance, or the lack thereof, in this case.
My attendance policy is simple. Attendance is mandatory, but I generally will not take attendance. Yes, I know that may sound a little odd. But the point is very simple: if you don't come to class, you won't pass the class. And as simple as that sounds, there are still students--an alarmingly high percentage of them, in fact--that don't seem to get that concept, despite the fact that on the first day of class, I tell them--point blank--that the only way to fail my class is not to show up. As I've said before, this class is not rocket science. In fact, it's anything but. I teach about simple concepts from everyday life, presented in a manner tailored to the layperson. I know that for many of my students, this will be the first and last class they take in this field, and I teach it accordingly. But I also work under the assumption that college students (even first year college students), shouldn't have to have to be cajoled into coming to class. Maybe this makes me optimistic. Or maybe it makes me naive. And while I don't like using in-class assignments, pop-quizzes and the like as punishments for those who don't come, I'm certainly not above it.
Enter the current controversy. In a effort to get students to think critically about a new topic, I planned an in-class assignment for them, in which they would provide practical applications for and analysis of a new topic. The "problem" (at least, the problem for some of them), was that I administered this particular assignment in the class session immediately following the midterm exam. In addition, it was unannounced, and anyone who missed it, missed it, without the chance to make it up except in the case of a documented, excused absence.
For my regular attenders, this assignment provided 20 relatively easy points. For those with documented absences, this was also an opportunity for 20 relatively easy points. For the Visitors, and others who assumed that post-exam attendance was optional, this was an outrage! A travesty! And in the words of one of my students, it was "just not fair."
Not fair. Hmm.
Not ten minutes after the class ended, the first of the emails rolled in. Bad news travels fast, and I think some of the regulars took great delight in telling the Visitors what they had missed. Some of the emails had apologies, some had excuses. And a few were actually rude. But the ultimate reaction came to me in person. At the beginning of the next class session, a student approached the podium and told me--point blank--that he believed it was unfair that I give an assignment on the day after the midterm. At first, I didn't know how to respond. Never mind that he didn't quite get the concept that I ran the class, and not him, but he had the nerve to actually sound pissed off. It took all of my will power not to kick him out in a decidedly unpolite way.
I know I was not the model student as a freshman in college. And part of the reason why poor attendance drives me crazy is because I learned first hand what can happen to one's GPA when classes get skipped. But I never would have even dreamed of questioning a professor's right to teach the class in the manner he or she saw fit.
I suppose I shouldn't let it bother me so much, as I know there's nothing I can do to change it. But it doesn't mean I have to like it.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have a pop quiz to write.
As I mentioned previously, it's midterm time here at the U. And while the exams themselves are done and gone (at least in my classes), the trauma for the students has yet to subside. Students continue to wander the halls in a Red-Bull induced state of semi-consciousness, mumbling theorums and dates and equations to themselves as they drag themselves from one exam to the next. I thought I would be kind this year and schedule my midterms a little before the rest. Hell, I thought this might actually resort in exam scores that would be higher than the average.
Silly me.
Don't believe me? See my last post. But I digress.
Wanting to ease back into material after the exams, I decided that I would give a light lecture and then a small, in-class assignment to my Introductory classes. I had a couple of points of logic for this move, too. First and foremost, after a particularly disastrous showing on the midterm, I wanted to give them some points to soften the blow, so to speak. But it was my other motivation that became the issue--checking up on classroom attendance, or the lack thereof, in this case.
My attendance policy is simple. Attendance is mandatory, but I generally will not take attendance. Yes, I know that may sound a little odd. But the point is very simple: if you don't come to class, you won't pass the class. And as simple as that sounds, there are still students--an alarmingly high percentage of them, in fact--that don't seem to get that concept, despite the fact that on the first day of class, I tell them--point blank--that the only way to fail my class is not to show up. As I've said before, this class is not rocket science. In fact, it's anything but. I teach about simple concepts from everyday life, presented in a manner tailored to the layperson. I know that for many of my students, this will be the first and last class they take in this field, and I teach it accordingly. But I also work under the assumption that college students (even first year college students), shouldn't have to have to be cajoled into coming to class. Maybe this makes me optimistic. Or maybe it makes me naive. And while I don't like using in-class assignments, pop-quizzes and the like as punishments for those who don't come, I'm certainly not above it.
Enter the current controversy. In a effort to get students to think critically about a new topic, I planned an in-class assignment for them, in which they would provide practical applications for and analysis of a new topic. The "problem" (at least, the problem for some of them), was that I administered this particular assignment in the class session immediately following the midterm exam. In addition, it was unannounced, and anyone who missed it, missed it, without the chance to make it up except in the case of a documented, excused absence.
For my regular attenders, this assignment provided 20 relatively easy points. For those with documented absences, this was also an opportunity for 20 relatively easy points. For the Visitors, and others who assumed that post-exam attendance was optional, this was an outrage! A travesty! And in the words of one of my students, it was "just not fair."
Not fair. Hmm.
Not ten minutes after the class ended, the first of the emails rolled in. Bad news travels fast, and I think some of the regulars took great delight in telling the Visitors what they had missed. Some of the emails had apologies, some had excuses. And a few were actually rude. But the ultimate reaction came to me in person. At the beginning of the next class session, a student approached the podium and told me--point blank--that he believed it was unfair that I give an assignment on the day after the midterm. At first, I didn't know how to respond. Never mind that he didn't quite get the concept that I ran the class, and not him, but he had the nerve to actually sound pissed off. It took all of my will power not to kick him out in a decidedly unpolite way.
I know I was not the model student as a freshman in college. And part of the reason why poor attendance drives me crazy is because I learned first hand what can happen to one's GPA when classes get skipped. But I never would have even dreamed of questioning a professor's right to teach the class in the manner he or she saw fit.
I suppose I shouldn't let it bother me so much, as I know there's nothing I can do to change it. But it doesn't mean I have to like it.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have a pop quiz to write.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
63.5
Ahhhh...midterms.
Yes, it's that time of year again. The panic in the air is like a living thing. The hallways smell of Red Bull and desperation. And all I can think is that I'm glad it's them and not me.
As I mentioned, I teach introductory classes. I'd love to tell you that my classes are hard. But honestly, they are what they are--general education, meant for those who will never take another class in the field. It's not rocket science, and if my students read the book, come to class, and stay awake, they pass. Given those odds, you'd think that my midterm scores would be pretty darn good.
Well, here's a piece of friendly advice. Don't bet those odds in Vegas. Ever.
Which brings me to the title of this particular post. 63.5. This would be the average score of my latest round of midterm exams. And that's 63.5 out of 100, kids.
The scores are the same every semester. That doesn't mean I'm used to it. It certainly doesn't mean that I like it. But within one or two points in either direction, it's the same every semester.
At first I used to think it was me. My teaching, or lack thereof. But after tweaking and fine-tuning my lectures, I realize that I'm not the problem in this equation. I give them the material they need. They get a study guide. They get lecture notes. Hell, I tell them during lecture that "you may want to write this down, 'cause it may show up on the exam."
To beat a cliche with the proverbial stick, you can lead a horse to water...but you can't make them come to class.
Someday they'll listen. Then...ONLY then...maybe we'll break that threshold of 70. But honestly, I'm not holding my breath.
Yes, it's that time of year again. The panic in the air is like a living thing. The hallways smell of Red Bull and desperation. And all I can think is that I'm glad it's them and not me.
As I mentioned, I teach introductory classes. I'd love to tell you that my classes are hard. But honestly, they are what they are--general education, meant for those who will never take another class in the field. It's not rocket science, and if my students read the book, come to class, and stay awake, they pass. Given those odds, you'd think that my midterm scores would be pretty darn good.
Well, here's a piece of friendly advice. Don't bet those odds in Vegas. Ever.
Which brings me to the title of this particular post. 63.5. This would be the average score of my latest round of midterm exams. And that's 63.5 out of 100, kids.
The scores are the same every semester. That doesn't mean I'm used to it. It certainly doesn't mean that I like it. But within one or two points in either direction, it's the same every semester.
At first I used to think it was me. My teaching, or lack thereof. But after tweaking and fine-tuning my lectures, I realize that I'm not the problem in this equation. I give them the material they need. They get a study guide. They get lecture notes. Hell, I tell them during lecture that "you may want to write this down, 'cause it may show up on the exam."
To beat a cliche with the proverbial stick, you can lead a horse to water...but you can't make them come to class.
Someday they'll listen. Then...ONLY then...maybe we'll break that threshold of 70. But honestly, I'm not holding my breath.
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