This quote speaks to my deepest yearnings as a teacher—to take students on a journey to “new landscapes” in concepts and ideas, to help them develop “eyes” to see deeply into the material, discover its meanings and some enduring understandings. I am convinced that students find many “new landscapes” here at KU; I am less sure that many leave us with “new eyes.”
I teach Theories of Personality and Intimate Relationships to junior and senior undergraduates. About a year ago, I became aware of a new discontent with my teaching. Having just reviewed my evaluations, which remained excellent, I should have been delighted—yet unmistakably, I found myself nagged by the feeling that something critical was missing. What? Clearly I am having an impact—students learn in my courses, what more do I want or expect? Pondering this question, I recognized a core aspect of my experience in the classroom that falls short of what I think it could and really should be. What follows is how I see the problem, what I think the primary contributors are, and my vision of what some approaches to solutions might be.
The problem
What do I see as missing? Students engaged in critical thinking in the classroom. Before coming to KU (11 years ago), for 14 years I taught first-year medical students who routinely questioned nearly everything I said. Although this was frustrating at times, their questions indicated they were thinking about the ideas presented, and their skeptical attitude led to a meaningful dialogue with me and each other—precisely what I have not been able to achieve with students here despite my best efforts. Over the years these efforts have included organizing small group discussions as part of the class (with rare exceptions I observe little originality or depth in these discussions), assigning reaction papers (a few students put some real thought into these, but many produce a summary rather than their own thoughtful responses), making sure students know that my office hours are a good time to talk one-on-one about ideas presented in the class/text, and offering a weekly “chat hour” as a time to get together with me and other students for further discussion (one or two students join me in a semester).
I believe an important part of my job is to keep current in the topic area, present material in an informative and interesting manner, and be accessible to students. I believe that one of the student’s major responsibilities is to actively reflect on the material—and not just read the text, listen and take notes in class, and study for tests. I tell students that they should have a reaction to every idea encountered. After all, they have relevant experience—they each have a personality and close relationships. I emphasize that the unique opportunity afforded in the classroom is not learning the content, which they could do by themselves if sufficiently motivated—but the opportunity through inquiry and dialogue to discover what they think and understand. All of these attempts at engagement have essentially failed to draw students into deeper thinking/involvement in the classroom.
Data from the KU goals assessment surveys support my concern.1 Of the 35 institutional goals, students consistently rate these as most important: stimulating intellectual curiosity and innovative thinking in students, and teaching students to think critically and to integrate knowledge. They rate KU as most successful in maintaining a varied program of extracurricular activities, providing students an in-depth understanding of at least one specialized area of knowledge, and providing opportunities for adults over 25 to earn degrees. Further, the discrepancy between ratings of importance and ratings of success in achieving the goal of stimulating critical thinking were some of the largest.2
Contributors to the problem
The consumer model of higher education. From this perspective, it makes sense to think of a university education as something the student (or more often the student’s parents) purchases with tuition and fees and that I (the professor) am expected to provide as the “product.” This model fosters an entitlement mentality that results in an excessive focus on one’s rights as opposed to one’s responsibilities. I am reminded of the Zen expression “Adding legs to a snake,” which means adding a concept that doesn’t belong. Snare (1997) takes my concern further, arguing that the student as consumer analogy is not only out of place but harmful:
“The increasingly common model of higher education that treats students as consumers is harmful to both students and society. The consumer model undermines educational quality because it overemphasizes student satisfaction and encourages grade inflation. It also wastes teaching time by concentrating too heavily on making classes enjoyable and inflating students’ self esteem. Additionally, the consumer model encourages passive learning and deceives students about the operation of the real world. Ultimately, it threatens social and democratic values by allowing students to buy degrees instead of earning them.”
A consumer model assumes that professors must satisfy students, and such an emphasis is clearly problematic if mastery of content and demonstration of critical thinking take a backseat to keeping students happy, which all too often means lowering standards. Snare believes the consumer model wastes teaching time by concentrating too heavily on making classes enjoyable. I certainly have this as a concern. I spend time not only on how to present material in a logical, clear, and interesting manner but in as entertaining a way as possible. To be honest, I think a hefty portion of the high evaluations I get these days is because I have learned to do a better “dog and pony show”—I use more humor, self-disclose in relevant ways, and do other things that keep my students entertained. Is this bad? No, but it is not necessarily conducive to deeper thinking. Snare argues that having a “fun” class often results in doing more entertaining than educating. There is, after all, only so much time in the classroom. Being a good performer as well as a good teacher takes energy, effort, and time. In the consumer model if the “product” results in a satisfied customer, we are doing a good job—but by emphasizing the fun and entertainment factor are we shying away from approaches that are more challenging?
Another huge problem with the consumer model is the way it has led us to evaluate teaching effectiveness; i.e., with student evaluations. Having one’s entire teaching effectiveness (not to mention one’s merit evaluation for teaching and one’s standing among colleagues for teaching) determined by how much students like the job you are doing in the classroom is ludicrous for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that it serves to dampen professors’ motivation to challenge students to engage more deeply. What professor is going to hold students accountable in this way when it is likely to result in lower ratings? Students can and should provide feedback on their experience in the classroom along relevant dimensions, but these should be limited to facets they can accurately evaluate. Further, student evaluations should not be the only or even the major way in which one’s teaching effectiveness is evaluated. It’s quick and inexpensive, but in the long run it short-changes faculty and students. Why would a professor labor to help students find their authentic voice, a process that invariably involves some struggle and frustration on the student’s part, especially for those who are comfortable letting their intellectual vitality languish in the service of getting by?
The economic factor. With the highest tuition increases in 30 years, it is not surprising that students feel pressured to “get done with” college as soon as possible. The ever-rising costs result in a burden on students’ families and the students themselves, who often need to work more than in the past to stay in school. The downside of this for student engagement in the classroom is several fold, including that many students are just plain chronically fatigued—not a conducive state to deep thinking. Further, some students feel obligated to take as heavy a course load as they possibly can, even if it greatly reduces the amount of time they can give to courses outside of class in order to finish in a timely manner.
A corollary is that too often students come to class poorly prepared. I find repeatedly that many don’t read the assigned material before class. If they did, they would likely come across an idea, issue, or research finding that puzzled or intrigued them or stimulated them in some way, and they would gain some familiarity with the topic and would not be hearing everything I say about it for the first time. With no prior preparation, it is hardly a wonder that students may think (perhaps accurately) that they have nothing significant to ask, or say—they haven’t given themselves the chance to digest the material enough to become aware of their questions or reactions.
The Internet factor. This generation of students is the first to have grown up with the Internet, an easy, almost effort-free vehicle for obtaining information. No critical thinking required; just type a relevant word or two and voila—volumes of information appear at one’s fingertips. I wonder if this encourages a “to be told” learning style. A colleague confided that on her recent course evaluations a student wrote, “Don’t ask us questions; we don’t know the [emphasis added] answers, we are here to learn [emphasis added].” One can interpret this comment in different ways, but to me it reflects too great a need for and comfort with passivity on the part of the student and a lack of appreciation of the dialectical process that is at the core of learning to think critically, creatively, and deeply.
The “PC” factor in the college classroom. Dialoguing with students involves more spontaneity than delivering a prepared lecture. Thus, a subtle but potentially powerful barrier to deep engagement with students in the classroom may arise from a professor’s fear of saying something off the cuff that, although on target to the inquiry process, has not been thought through in the politically correct sense. This kind of mistake involves no intention to offend, but if one has followed recent cases of this type, a professor’s intentions seem to have little to do with the viability of student complaints. Thinking on one’s feet leaves one open to gaffes of this sort—it just too bad that in the atmosphere of today’s college classroom mistakes such as these can be dangerous to one’s career.
Some approaches to solving the problem
Like the Hydra that could not be eradicated by a single stroke, to challenge the prevailing winds in higher education and shift students from passive information receivers to active constructors of meaning, we will need to make changes on several levels.
On the institutional level. We need to reduce the economic burden of a college degree on students and their families to lessen stress and increase the time and energy students have to devote to learning. Perhaps a consortium of like-minded institutions could effectively lobby Washington to expand the AmeriCorps Program. I see this as having many potential benefits in addition to reducing the economic problems of a university education (which is not going to get cheaper). For students who are not ready for college—emotionally, intellectually, or financially—it would provide the opportunity to gain maturity and an understanding of important social and civic values.
There is also a pressing need to lobby for a fairer allocation of the more than one billion in yearly federal financial aid, the lion’s share of which currently goes to wealthier colleges and universities (often private) who have fewer students from low-income families. Logical—no, of long-standing tradition—yes. The magnitude of the disparities is scandalous, and reform is essential.
In the classroom. We need to change the way we evaluate teaching effectiveness. There is a wealth of published literature on the scholarship of teaching that can inform us of better and more appropriate evaluation models, including peer review models and the use of course portfolios. These approaches, if combined with student evaluations, would provide a fairer, more representative picture of the quality of one’s teaching.
For some undergraduate courses, we should adopt a model where the course content is delivered in virtual mode and the real-time class meetings are for dialogue and discussion. I came to this idea when I realized that all my words to students about the importance of engagement and critical thinking in the classroom assumed they have the necessary inquiry skills. A few undoubtedly do, but most I now believe need the equivalent of inquiry skills training and experience—which this course format would provide. The way I envision this working is that students would purchase required texts but be given a set of DVDs containing lectures and note versions of PowerPoint™ slides (to be returned at the end of the course for future use). With this format, students can “go to class” when they have the energy, motivation, and interest. Also, any part of the lecture can be re-viewed any number of times; e.g., when a concept is presented that a student finds particularly interesting, perplexing, difficult to understand, etc. This gives more opportunity for thinking about the material and formulating questions and reactions to bring to the discussion sessions. Students would be expected to read the assigned text material, go to class on DVD, and participate in one of two 90-minute weekly discussion sessions. Having two sessions in a class of 30-35 students would mean approximately 15 students in each, which in my experience is about the maximum if the goal is active, full participation. The dialogue sessions would be structured to help students gain experience and confidence in making critical reflection, an essential rather than a chance happening. I think this approach will foster in students a deeper understanding of the material and of themselves—as well as a greater appreciation of other’s perspectives.
To initiate this approach and—just as important—to evaluate its impact compared to the more typical classroom lecture format will require considerable investment by the professor plus the willingness of
students to try this form of learning. I believe many students and faculty would find this a challenge
worth pursuing.
My hopes for this model of teaching bring to mind another favorite quote from Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.: “I find the great thing in this world is not so much where we stand, as in what direction we are moving: To reach the port of heaven, we must sail sometimes with the wind and sometimes against it, but we must sail, and not drift, nor lie at anchor.”
Endnotes
1 OIRP Institutional Report, Sept. 2000, covering 1991-1999.
2 OIRP Assessment of General Education, Institutional Report, Sept. 2002.
Snare, C.E. (1997). Implications of considering students as consumers. College Teaching, 45, (4), 221-222.
