Quality...Not Quantity

The Boston Globe is reporting that Massachusetts is awarding money to public institutions based on academic performance rather than performance. At its simplest level, the goal is to encourage state colleges and universities to focus on building fundamental skills at the undergraduate level (or so the article would have you believe). The amount of grant money to be awarded is a fairly modest $2.5 million, roughly 1% of UMASS Amherst’s 2011 state financial package. Although it seems like this financial contribution is a drop in the bucket, so to speak, money is money.

It’s not entirely clear how “academic performance” would be measured. Some readers have suggested that improvement in graduation rates might serve as a necessary measurement. Others speculate that measurement may need to monitoring/reporting composite GPA’s. However, skeptics see this form of measurement as an opportunity for untenured faculty to engage in academic payola—I give you good grades, you give me good evaluations, while the institution gets more “academic performance” money. Of course, this particular scenario assumes that untenured faculty members have no morals whatsoever. I’m getting sidetracked.

I’m a strong proponent of classroom/departmental/institutional assessment, whether or not it’s rewarded. In my experience, assessment gives professors/administrators a target, whether it’s an institution-wide essay, a standardized exam, or some other tool that indicates evidence (not proof) of learning outcomes. In my mind, assessment is self-policing and, in most cases, aims to improve the institution as a whole.

I’m curious to see how this pans out in the Bay State.

Running a Tight Ship (during lecture)...

A friend of mine called the other day to pick my brain about fostering classroom decorum. I was sad to hear that his students were attempting to derail lecture time by challenging authority in class. Comments like, “I pay a lot of money to go here,” and, “This class is too hard,” were beginning to rear their ugly heads rather early in the semester. Some of us, particularly those who teach science classes, have been in these situations before. They’re often one of the hardest parts of the job and are especially dangerous as they can promote a course-wide mutiny.

Of course, in a lecture, the best defense from an uncivil classroom is a strong offense. What does this mean? Prepare, practice, plan, prevent:

• Prepare captivating lectures that keep students from wandering or becoming destructive.
• Practice the lecture several times. Actually listen to what you’re saying and see if it is clear, concise, and to the point (I’m told this may come with time).
• Plan for any pitfalls in your lectures. Keep your students busy, and you’ll curb unnecessary chatter. On the other hand, dead, unproductive lecture time can annihilate any chance of class-wide order.
• Prevent problems by dealing with complaints immediately and swiftly. Letting them fester only compounds the problem. A quick resolution sends a clear message--you're there to teach not host a round of Deal or No Deal.

I was faced with a similar situation a few months back, and after an extensive Google search, I stumbled across Ed Friedlander’s webpage about classroom conduct. Although originating from experiences as a professor in medical school, Dr. Friedlander’s advice ranges from classroom decorum, to designing captivating lectures, and even includes dealing with the occasional heckler. I found that his advice is generally applicable to most lectures.

Personally, my approach was formed from advice solicited from an experienced colleague. One particular semester, I had a rather large percentage of students whining about the amount of material I was presenting. My colleague prescribed immediate action with a dash of humor. The next time a student complained about the difficulty of the course, I took action. “This is so hard. Can we move the exam to later next week,” the student asked. I laid my chalk down, faced the student while giving my undivided attention, and said, “Miss Smith, thank you for sharing your suggestion with the class. I really appreciate working in an environment that values classroom interaction. As for your suggestion, my answer is ‘No.’” I smiled then immediately returned to my lecture as if the incident never occurred.

About two weeks later, in the middle of lecture, a different student motioned to move the due date of a homework assignment. Once again, I laid my chalk down, faced the student while giving my undivided attention, and said, “Miss Cope, thank you for sharing your suggestion…” The class immediate began laughing at my response, and I quickly returned to lecture.