Crib Notes are Your Friends — Shannon Dea, Department of Philosophy

student writing testCan’t get your students to do the readings before class? If your course has exams, here’s a sure-fire method that will have them hitting the books and not only reading but reading strategically.

On the first meeting of the term, give each student a pack of 3X5 cards, one for each class meeting of the term. (Or have them buy their own, depending on your budget and the class size.) Explain to them that each class they will be permitted to turn in one card inscribed with their name, the date, and notes about the day’s reading. Further, they must hand the card in before class so that their notes are drawn entirely from their reading of the text, and not from the lecture or class activities. Further explain that you will return to each student their bundle of cards at the beginning of their midterm/final and that they may use their cards to help answer exam questions.

With this method, you are essentially letting the students write their own customized books for an open-book exam, but stipulating that the material for the book must be drawn from the course readings. It will take very little persuading for students to see the benefits of having a pack of customized notes at their elbow come exam time. What might take a little more effort is training students to make good choices about which parts of the readings they ought to record on their cards.

The great thing is, though, that you’ll be in a better position to support the development of their active reading skills because you’ll be able to go over their cards and see what they’re gleaning from each reading. Indeed, you may wish to start each class by quickly skimming a random selection of the cards for that class and discussing with students the highs and lows of their reportage.

I’ve used this method with a first-year class with about 80 students. The overwhelming majority of students submitted cards in each class, and most of them contained useful content about the readings. The fact that the students had all done the readings meant that lots of students participated in class discussions, and the quality of those discussions improved. Additionally, students become practiced at reading before class and at making reading notes. You as an instructor are better informed about how your students are doing with the readings, and can adapt your teaching in light of this.

And the downsides? Well, you’ll need to make time after each class to skim through the cards to make sure that students have actually written about that day’s reading (rather than sneakily revising their notes about the previous reading). The biggest challenge, though, is sorting all of the cards. I once foolishly left the sorting until the end of term and was forced to spend a back-aching day hunched over piles of cards arrayed on my office floor. Don’t do that.

Overall though, even if sorting the cards is a pain, it’s a small price to pay for starting each class with a room full of students who have done the readings and jotted down some initial notes about them. Now if only you could get them to bring you coffee…

Note: I’ll bet this method was somebody else’s idea. I talk teaching with lots of colleagues and we often trade ideas. Sometimes it’s hard to remember which ideas are mine and which are borrowed. I cannot for the life of me remember who came up with this brilliant method. If it was you, let me know and I’ll adapt this post so that you get credit for the idea. (And if it actually was me, yay me!)

Shannon Dea teaches in the Department of Philosophy, and is a Teaching Fellow for the Faculty of Arts.

Image courtesy of ccarlstead.

Reading the (Class)room: There’s No App for That — Josh Neufeld, Department of Biology

josh neufeld blog photo
I teach a 2nd year “Fundamentals of Microbiology” course, with hundreds of students distributed across multiple lecture sections. After years of prodding by student evaluations, I consented to posting videocasts of each lecture last term. Previously, my concern had been that attendance would drop. This same concern accompanies the development of online courses, which will be happening to my course, serving students who are off campus. With online course material circulating widely, in addition to the availability of videocasts from past and current years, why should students come to class? Given these concerns, I was very surprised that, although videocasts were posted within an hour of each lecture last term, attendance was higher than ever. This unexpected outcome reminded me of a videocast-requesting student evaluation comment from the previous year: “I believe being in class has its own benefits, students will still come”. But why?

At the 2014 Waterloo Science Grad Ball, I stopped by the mixing board of DJ Whitegold (pictured above), who is described as “one of Canada’s most versatile and talented DJs”. DJ Whitegold explained how the turntables he uses on his mixer no longer hold vinyl LPs, but instead are linked to music tracks on his system’s laptop. Nonetheless, he still uses the traditional one-handed turntable-rocking motion to help transition between two songs seamlessly, synchronizing the beats (“beatmatching”) and 16-bar phrases (“phrasematching”) of each song. After a moment of reflection, I asked whether software could automate the process of beatmatching and phrasematching, which would eliminate potential human error and possibly even make the DJ unnecessary. “Yes, there are apps that can automate the mixes,” DJ Whitegold was quick to reply, “But, there is something important that no app can do.” Gesturing toward the sea of science students, he continued, “Read an audience.” DJ Whitegold explained that the ability to connect with a crowd, sense their minds and moods, manipulate a group’s connection to the music, and engineer a dance experience are all important and irreplaceable skills of expert DJs, skills that can never be automated.

It later occurred to me that this conversation captured the teaching experience perfectly and helped address my concerns about recorded course content. Analogous to DJ Whitegold’s role of synchronizing musical tracks, the classroom experience is fundamentally one of beatmatching and phrasematching ideas into a coherent lecture. This process enables students to follow new information and understand concepts, not on a dance floor, but in a lecture hall. And of course we can digitize this process by offering online versions of our courses and by posting lecture videocasts. But there is something else important that can never be captured in an online course offering, or even in a videocast. Professors work very hard to read a room in every lecture, gauge student comprehension and mindset, sense and manipulate energy and attention, react to body language, engage students in group conversation, pause, watch, smile, and surprise. Much like a DJ manipulating a dance floor, the ability to shape a classroom experience is reactive and dynamic; it is art and it is science, it takes experience, and it can take a lifetime of practice to perfect.

Although videocasts have undeniable value for students reviewing course material, and online courses are essential for off-campus education, DJ Whitgold’s comments helped convince me that in-class education is alive and well. DJs are central to nightclub stages despite digitization, and professors in lecture halls remain an essential element of university education.

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Josh Neufeld (Twitter: @JoshDNeufeld) is an Associate Professor in the Department of Biology, studying the microbial ecology of terrestrial, aquatic, and host-associated communities. For several years, Josh has taught a large second year course (600-900 students) as well as a small upper year course (18 students), and is a recipient of the 2013 Jack Carlson Teaching Excellence Award by the Department of Biology.

Photo credit: DJ Whitegold

Universal Design, Accessible Lectures, and Other Fun Buzz-Words — Michelle Ashburner, AccessAbility Services

blogI love the chalk-and-talk lecture in math. I have had the pleasure of teaching thousands of first-years, and with lots of questions, discussions, pauses, and well-formatted notes, the chalkboard lecture can go a long way. It forces students to attend lectures if they want notes directly from the instructor, allows for the presentation of dynamic visual and symbolic material, and most importantly allows for quick correction of mistakes.

Ever since I have been working with the AccessAbility Services office, I have met many students who have disabilities that interfere with their learning in the classroom environment. These students, most of whom have an above-average to superior IQ, have found wonderful ways of compensating. They have inspired me to work on making my lectures more user-friendly to persons with disabilities (Accessible Lectures), as well make my course more readily absorbed by students in general (Universal Design).

The most challenging thing to do here was with regards to testing. The main idea of creating an accessible assessment is to provide choice. In the humanities, for example, students might choose between a 40% exam, a 40% essay, or 20% split between the two. Perhaps in a history class a student could perform an exam orally while another could write a paper exam. Everyone has a preferred learning style and strength of expression, and for students with learning disabilities, being able to use this strength is of even more importance.

Well, what choice can one give with math exams? Traditionally the math midterm is a collection of questions on paper, and the possibility of an oral exam, or an essay in lieu of a problem-style written exam is out of the question. There aren’t enough resources to issue oral exams to 400 students, nor can we ensure that students understand mathematical reasoning and calculations if they are to write an essay composed entirely of text.

The exam that I gave this term was made with large font in LaTeX (which looks like 14-16pt when printed), lots of white space, and clear instructions for each question. After two common questions, the exam splits into a Part 1 and a Part 2, and students are instructed to complete one part or the other. Part 1 is mostly composed of word problems, while Part 2 is mostly composed of algorithmic problems. Part 1 does contain algorithmic, calculation-based material, and Part 2 does require students to create problem spaces and to translate wording into math; they are just presented differently.

Of 400 exams, about 230 students chose to do mostly word problems, while the rest chose the algorithmic thinker option. Keep in mind that deconstructing a word problem and going through the steps of solving takes time, so that there were more questions in Part 2 (yet the points per part were the same).

Students with a case of math anxiety (there are SO many in my classes!) can consider the algorithmic part as opposed to freezing when coming in contact with only word problems under a time constraint. They will continue to hone their word problem solving skills within the tutorial environment, where they may choose to work on a group assignment or on their own. Come the final exam, they will be more prepared for the word problems that await them.

In my experience, those who are verbally strong and are more comfortable learning the “soft” sciences tend to be more linear and algorithmic mathematics students, while those that are more comfortable going through an unpredictable journey with a math puzzle and have a more developed mathematical intuition tend to be less restricted to linear thinking. They could be characterized as “global,” or “intuitive” learners. Honestly, learning styles change and studies continue to bring light to the learning styles and strengths that tend to go together. All I have to go on is what I’ve learned from my students thus far.

It has helped me immensely to see the perspectives of my students at AccessAbility Services. When I present a word problem, I always read the text after having them read it on their own; I give breaks to process information; I try to have the learning as active as possible by prompting discussion, asking questions, and holding votes (we have very poor voter turnout in my classes. I am worried about the future of democracy).  I have digitized note outlines posted on LEARN in 14 point font, which are optional to use, but require attendance to have a complete set. My tutorial assignment instruction sheets encourage any student with difficulty producing written solutions to contact me by email, phone, or in person to discuss alternatives. I allow technology in the classroom (a whole other discussion on its own!), and I try not to assume ability to see in colour.

I have enjoyed the challenge of making an accessible math course so far, and I am looking forward to updating you all when term is over. Your thoughts will make this venture more of a success. Contact me any time.

Slow Learning: Mitten Ball Debates — Shannon Dea, Department of Philosophy

Mittens!

Sometimes, great teaching and learning solutions are right at our fingertips.

A couple of years ago, I was teaching a winter term night course. It was mid-way through the term and the students were clearly exhausted. My usually participatory class clammed up, and I had to do something.

I stopped “delivering lectures” per se years ago. As I’ve grown into my teaching, I’ve become less and less concerned about transmitting content, and much more interested in helping my students to engage with the material sufficiently that they’ll be motivated to seek out the content on their own. So, nowadays, I’m more of a facilitator or master of ceremonies than a lecturer. I don’t tell my students what the readings say; they tell me. And, as they do so, they tell me what’s plausible about the positions we’re considering and what requires a more critical response.

I’ve developed a bunch of different methods to encourage students to participate in class discussions, but that night nothing was working. My mind raced as I struggled to think of a way to kickstart the conversation. And, then it clicked.

I grabbed my wool mittens from my coat pockets, turned them inside-out into a soft ball and told my students, “Ok. Time for a mitten ball debate.”

I wrote a controversial statement related to that week’s material on the board. Then, I drew an imaginary line down the middle of the lecture hall and told the students that everyone left of the line was on the “Pro” side and everyone right of the line was on the “Con” side.  I gave them a few minutes to gather their thoughts and jot them down before elaborating the rules of the game:

  • The only person permitted to speak is the person holding the mitten ball.
  • Speakers must make new points, not repeat those points other speakers have already made.
  • No one may hold the mitten ball more than once.
  • After one has finished speaking, s/he must toss the mitten ball to someone on the other side of the lecture hall (and, hence, on the other side of the debate).
  • If you catch the mitten ball and have nothing to say, you may toss it to someone else on your side who has not yet participated.
  • Whichever team runs out of novel comments first loses. (Or, more constructively, whichever team doesn’t run out of points wins.)

I closed my eyes and tossed the ball toward the students.

And it worked. The discussion that followed was energetic and engaging. And, in the remaining weeks of the term, the students themselves several times requested mitten ball debates. There were several mentions of the mitten ball on student evaluations of the course, including such pseudo-koans as “Trust the mitten ball.”

So, what is it about mitten ball debates that students like? I’m still working it through, but here are a few of my ideas about this:

  • It’s fun to throw things. Moreover, having to follow a projectile with one’s eyes, to throw and to catch, pulls students out of the “alpha state” they so often slip into in three-hour classes. Just that little bit of physicality can make a huge cognitive difference.
  • Mitten ball debates involve everyone, not just the smartypants who sit in the front row with their hands up all the time. Students too easily fall into patterns about who the speakers are in the class and who the non-speakers are. Mitten ball debating is premised on breaking those patterns. And, students are often grateful when the usual suspects don’t get to weigh in three times on the same point. (The corresponding advantage for instructors is that, in a mitten ball debate, one need never say, “That’s another really great point, Smartypants, but let’s hear what someone else has to say…”)
  • Mitten ball debating takes the pressure off to make the best point. Since the game just requires teams to come up with as many points as possible, students are helping their team just as much with comparatively weak points as with strong ones. This means there’s less stigma associated with “saying something stupid.”

There are a few different ways you can run a mitten ball debate. You can, as I did, arbitrarily assign a position to each side of the class. Or, you can allow students to move to whichever side of the class corresponds to their own view. Alternatively, you might ask students to move to whichever side corresponds to the opposite of their own view. Adducing evidence for the opposite side is always a great exercise!

And, of course, there’s nothing saying you have to limit the teams to two. In a Classics class, for example, one could divide the class in three and have a mitten ball debate about the comparative merits of Julius Caesar, Pompey and Marcus Crassus.

When I’ve held mitten ball debates, inevitably, some students colour outside of the lines – either “crossing the floor” once they become persuaded of their opponents’ position, or remaining where they are but shouting suggestions to the opposite side when they notice an argument the other team has neglected.

Fine by me. After all, the point of a mitten ball debate isn’t to follow a bunch of arbitrary rules, but to warm students up to a topic that at first leaves them cold. I suppose it should come as no surprise that, even in the depths of the winter term, mittens help to provide a little warmth.

Have your own ideas about why mitten balls work? Or, tips to share about cool teaching and learning solutions you figured out on the fly? Log in below to comment, or email me at sjdea at uwaterloo dot ca.

Shannon Dea is currently the Teaching Fellow for the Faculty of Arts. This blog post originally appeared on the Arts Teaching Fellow Blog

“Why we’re making you take these courses” – Mary Robinson, Associate Director of First Year Engineering

“Why are you making me take this course?”  As a teacher, I hate this question.  But, I must confess that I posed it several times during my undergraduate years.  The answer that I got from my parents, friends, and teachers back in the day was the equally as frustrating “because you’ll need it later.” Continue reading “Why we’re making you take these courses” – Mary Robinson, Associate Director of First Year Engineering

Enhancing Integrity at uWaterloo — Bruce Mitchell & Faye Schultz

The Academic Integrity Office is coordinating a collaborative approach to enhance integrity as a core value at the University of Waterloo for students, staff, and faculty.  Various academic support units in cooperation with faculty and student representatives created an “Academic Integrity Fact Sheet for Students” that was distributed at the start of the academic term in September 2011.  In October, a set of four posters and associated videos were created Continue reading Enhancing Integrity at uWaterloo — Bruce Mitchell & Faye Schultz

Good Teaching: The Top 10 Requirements — Michael Pyne

I’m a firm believer that a calendar year cannot be concluded without a slew of top 10 lists. Even Faculty Focus, an online website and e-newsletter dedicated to teaching in higher education, recently succumbed to the temptation of a top 10 of 2010. The two-part article entitled “Top 10 Faculty Focus Articles for 2010” Continue reading Good Teaching: The Top 10 Requirements — Michael Pyne