Dr. Crazy has a post in response to Tenured Radical’s post about class size and its effect on one’s ability to teach, and, more importantly, students’ ability to learn.  I have a couple of responses to both posts, and some to the comments.  I’ll try to make them coherent.  One benefit of being an adjunct is that I’ve seen lots of different kinds of institutions: large state schools, mid-sized private religious schools, small liberal arts colleges, small discipline-focused schools.  And in my work as a consultant and technologist, I’ve seen and met faculty from many other kinds of schools.  So I’ve seen lots of variations on class size.  When I started teaching, 20 years ago now, my freshmen comp classes were capped at 18.  I taught an 8 a.m. class, and I think I ended up with 14 or 15.  It was a dream class.  I still cite some of my successes in that class.  After that first year, the cap was raised to 22, and that’s been my experience at almost everywhere I’ve taught, 22 is the cap.  The reality often depends on the time of day or other factors.  22 students is manageable, but getting hard to manage.  It’s easy to lose track of a student or two when you have 22 or more.  With 18, or fewer, those students don’t get lost.  You can prod them, draw them back into the fold, so to speak, with a comment after class or an email.

It’s also true, as Dr. Crazy points out, that when you have more students and therefore more papers to grade, you tend to cut corners.  Your feedback is much shorter.  You drop a paper.  You substitute a multiple choice test for an essay test.  I’ve actually never done that, either because there were strict requirements or because I only had 2 classes and no other work outside of that, so it didn’t seem necessary.  But I’ve seen plenty of people do it, and when I’ve considered positions with 4-4 loads and thought about the amount I normally assign, I shudder.  88 5-8 page papers to grade every couple of weeks is not something one whips through.  One could stagger and have 44 papers every week, but it’s all the same.  It’s hard to figure out how to teach well under these conditions.  I’m amazed at the many faculty who do.   But these conditions, and the continued ratcheting up of class caps so that the college can enroll more students and take their tuition money, raise the issue of how much these institutions really value teaching.  Dr. Crazy hits the nail on the head:

As much as we are a “teaching institution,” our institution doesn’t appear to value teaching all that much. The institution definitely values student enrollments and retention, but that is not at all the same thing as valuing teaching or valuing learning. It is entirely the case that one can do a piss-poor job in the classroom and as long as the enrollments remain stable that one will be just fine at this institution. It is entirely the case that one can be a crap adviser of student research projects and that one’s crappy work counts (or doesn’t) exactly the same as somebody who does a great job with such duties. And my administration has absolutely no interest in changing this from being the case. It would wreak havoc on the budgetary bottom line if they did.

My graduate institution, or at least my department, valued teaching.  They were constantly fighting the administration to keep class caps low.  They provided instruction and mentoring to graduate students on how to teach well.  There was an attitude in the department that teaching was important work and that doing it well was as important as research.  At almost every place I’ve been since, that doesn’t seem to be the case.  Every place I’ve been has given lip-service to being invested in teaching, but the reality has been quite different.  Sometimes, it shows up in class size.  Other times, it’s apparent in the percentage of classes taught by adjuncts (over 50% at one place I worked).  At others, it’s in what gets someone tenure, almost always not teaching.  That’s left me with the distinct impression that if you care about teaching, don’t teach college.

And that’s not to say that I haven’t seen individual faculty who care about teaching at these institutions.  I have.  I’ve seen lots.  Some of them are off the tenure track.  Some of them are tenured.  Most work hard without much recognition except for accolades from their students.  Few, if any, of these institutions had rewards for teaching.

Now, I want to address the relationship of technology to all of this.  Historann commented, “What you need to do at Zenith is demonstrate conclusively that clickers, or iPhone apps, or some other gadget-of-the-moment will make it possible to give 100 students the same educational benefit that a seminar for 6, or 8, or 10, would give them.”  I bristled at this, both because it’s somewhat true, but also because it’s not true for many ed tech people.  Yes, there’ve been many articles in the Chronicle and Inside Higher Ed touting the benefits of using technology X in a large lecture class.  They claim the students are more engaged, blah, blah, blah.  The research on these things is very new, but I haven’t seen any research claiming that technology can make 100 person class as effective as a small seminar.  Technology cannot change a class dynamic.  As a technologist, I’m constantly lumped in with the people who tout the wonders of lecture capture and Blackboard and clickers and applications that send grades instantly to iPhones.  I’m not that kind of technology person.  My classes are relatively low-tech, though I do use blogs and wikis (for more writing practice, among other reasons) and I often use a multimedia assignment, video, images, etc. to teach multimedia writing and critical thinking.  When I work with faculty, I don’t want them to use technology to make their teaching efficient.  I want them to use it to in ways that help their students learn better.  I believe that sometimes the use of technology can kill two birds with one stone.  It can teach students the content or the skills of the course (i.e. history or writing), but it can also teach them something about the technology itself.  Sometimes they learn how to use a new tool, and sometimes they learn that a tool is put together in a way to generate a specific effect.  That is, technology isn’t neutral.  To me, learning more than one thing at once is a win-win.

In my recent work with K-12 teachers, technology isn’t discussed (at least not by teachers; I don’t know about administrators) as a way to cram 300 students into a class and still get similar results to a 30 student class.  It’s discussed as a way to engage students, to provide hands-on problem-solving work, to give them more writing practice (sometimes for a real audience), and to teach them technology skills by working with specific tools.  The standards for K-12 use of technology emphasize using technology to develop critical thinking and problem-solving skills, to learn information literacy skills, to learn to work with data and present results, to foster creativity and innovation, to learn collaboration skills, and to learn complex thinking skills.  Often, when I see technology discussed among administrators and faculty at the college level, these skills are not mentioned.*  It’s almost always either feared as a potential replacement for the faculty–teach via Blackboard and video lecture! Or touted as a way to bring enhancements to a large lecture class, enhancements that may make parents feel better about having their kids in large classes, but aren’t likely to produce the results of a seminar class.  So, I just want to say, quit blaming the technology.  If administrators are touting it incorrectly or poorly, don’t just resist using it, move them away from clickers and lecture capture toward allowing faculty to use blogs and wikis or YouTube or whatever might work for them.  Resist the cookie-cutter model, both for technology and for teaching.

*Not all faculty, of course.  Some get that technology can do all these things.  Unfortunately, many CIOs and other administrators seem to tout the “efficiency” of technology, rather than its benefits to learning.

Regular readers of my blog might have noticed the way I compare myself to others and/or compare my life to some imagined life I might have had if only . . .  I talk about those things mostly as a way of purging them from myself, of recognizing that it’s somewhat silly to make comparisons.  This post from Gretchen Rubin, an interview with Lori Gottlieb, author of Marry Him: The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough, reminded me of something I don’t find myself making comparisons about: my marriage and my spouse.  I don’t tend to look out in the world at other men and think, if only Mr. Geeky dressed or looked or acted or worked like him.  Mr. Geeky is who he is, and I love him. He’s far from perfect.  I’ll spare you the details, but most importantly I’m not perfect either.  There’ve been many times I’ve said, “How the hell do you put up with me?”  As Gottlieb says in her interview with Gretchen, “happy people are grateful that they’ve found a person who has decided to spend his life with them, despite all the compromises he’s going to have to make, too!”  While we sometimes mention the quirks in each other that we put up with, mostly they’re unsaid.  Why bring up flaws that we mostly can’t do anything about?

Similarly, though our marriage has not been without some drama, mostly I compare our relationship favorably to everyone else’s.  When I see a couple that seems happy, I don’t think, oh, I wish we were like them.  Instead, I think, we’d probably be good friends because we’re both happy in our marriages.  The discontent, the arguments, the flaws that occasionally stand out pass away quickly.  And when issues arise, I know they’re going to pass and am better able to deal with them because I’m thinking of them as temporary problems in need of a solution rather than permanent damage to our relationship.  It’s a nice feeling, really, when a lot of other things in life are filled with uncertainty.

Laura at 11D has a post up about the challenges of having a healthy lifestyle, especially cooking a meal at home every night, when you’re in a family with 2 jobs, 2 or more kids in activities, etc.  My own semi-challenge of cooking randomly through Cooking Light’s Dinner Tonight cookbook, a cookbook full of healthy, but easy meals, has been interesting, and I’ve thought about whether I’d do this if I worked full time.  Here are some thoughts, both on my own cooking, and on Laura’s post.

First, because of the challenge, I plan a whole week’s worth of meals.  Generally I plan on 4-5, knowing that one night we’ll eat out or slap together sandwiches at home.  I include in my grocery list snacks and fruit for lunches and often deli meat for weekend lunches or quick dinners.

Second, because I don’t work, I can shop during the week.  Going to the grocery store on a Monday at 1 is miles better than going any weeknight just before dinner time (which was a common occurrence back when I was working).  If I returned to full-time work, I’d do the shopping on the weekend, likely earlier in the day, and probably make it a family event, taking one kid or the husband to help.  The kids are actually great in the grocery store.  They’re 10 & 14, so I let them loose with half the list and they go hunting and gathering while I’m in the deli line or picking over produce.  I can also go to the farmer’s market when it opens at 3 instead of rushing around to find parking or picking over leftovers at 6, just before it closes.  I could easily send one or both kids with some money and a list.  And they’ve done that before.

Third, I’m not starting my cooking at 5:30 or 6, the minute I step in the door.  When I worked, I would literally throw my stuff down somewhere, grab a glass of wine or beer and start pulling out ingredients and preheating the oven (if I had something planned, which I sometimes didn’t).  If a meal takes a little longer, I can start at 4:30 so that it’s done by 6.  Or whenever I need to.  Today, for example, I need to get some meat into a marinade around 3.  I could never do that if I worked.

So those are good things.  We can eat healthier in part because I have time to plan, shop and cook.  But fourth, my grocery bill is through the roof.  Before, I bought whatever was on sale.  Some months, I could keep my grocery bill for the month around $400-$500.  According to a book I’m reading right now, the USDA recommends $650/month for a family of four.  Currently, with my focus on grass-fed met, organic everything, and buying whatever ingredients I need, I’m spending double what I used to.  Go ahead, gasp.  I did.  Part of the difference is made up from not eating out.  We order pizza once a week or every two weeks, around $30 for all of us.  Mr. Geeky eats lunch out, but I eat at home, so all the money we used to spend on that is going into to groceries.  Can we afford this?  So far, yes, and Mr. Geeky and I agree that buying the food we’re buying is not only good for us, but hopefully good for local farmers, the earth, etc.  But, there are a lot of people, even people with similar incomes to ours, who would never spend what we do on groceries.  They may have higher mortgages or car payments or private school to pay for.

Laura, and many of her readers, raised the issue of picky eaters.  When I was growing up, we pretty much ate whatever was on the table.  And my mom had a rule that even at guest’s houses, we had to take three bites of something we had never tried or thought we didn’t like before declaring we weren’t going to eat it.  My sister was a very picky eater.  She wouldn’t even eat pizza.  She survived most of her childhood on vienna sausages and ketchup.  No extra meal prep for Mom and she was pretty happy.  Mom still tried to get her to eat something, but there was always vienna sausage to fall back on.

When Geeky Girl got to be about 6ish or 7 and Geeky Boy was 10/11, we instituted a rule that if you weren’t eating the prepared meal, you had to make your own, parent-approved dinner, usually a peanut butter sandwich.  You were required to try the meal first before barging off to make a sandwich.  While we’ve had a few situations where one or both kids have ended up making a sandwich, generally the work involved is enough to get them to try whatever’s on the table and most of the time, they like it enough to eat it.  What’s also helped with Geeky Girl, who is by far more picky than Geeky Boy, is that she helps me cook every night.  Geeky Boy has helped on occasion as well.  Once you know what’s in something, you tend to be more inclined to eat it.  We made a soup the other night that had broccoli, spinach and edamame.  It was the greenest thing you’ve ever seen.  If I’d just put that on the table, no way would Geeky Girl have eaten it.  But since she helped make it, she ate a whole bowl.

It’s taken a long while for me to develop any kind of routine about cooking and really getting my head around what it takes to make more than just a piece of meat with heated frozen veggies or pasta and jarred sauce.  I think I could shift the work if I were employed, but it is certainly nice to have the time to make these meals.  I agree with Laura, though, that someone needs to write the book about how to eat the way Pollan, et. al. suggest when both parents get home at 6.  Most cooking shows and books aimed at that audience doctor jarred and canned items, which may be better than fast food, but just barely.

Last night, I got into my pjs early, snuggled into bed and watched Frontline’s Digital Nation.  It’s a follow-up of sorts to their Growing Up Online, which I wrote about when it came out and got some response from at least one teacher featured in the show.

Growing Up Online came out 2 years ago.  I was in a different place then.  We all were.  There are many aspects of the Internet I’m hugely enthusiastic about, but I’m starting to have reservations about things like multi-tasking and the amount of time we spend online.  I could sympathize with Rachel Dretzin, who says at the beginning, that she felt uneasy when she realized that while her whole family was in the same room together, each person was on a screen, separately doing their own thing.  That describes our house on most days, and some days, it feels like coziness and togetherness, and others it feels like we’re all living separate lives.  In my former job (and sometimes in my current work), I felt the need to be overly enthusiastic, just to get past the naysayers, whom I still think are ignoring some of the great things about the online world.  Now, I’m feeling more skeptical.  I’m more careful and thoughtful about the amount of time I spend online and what I’m doing there, and I use that same critical eye when I’m working with people to use technology effectively.

I could not have taught my class without the Internet.  And not just because the Internet is a tool teachers can use effectively in their teaching, but because I used it extensively to actually build the class.  I was able to find similar classes online, tap into my Twitter network to ask for suggestions for things, search Google, Diigo, and Delicious for appropriate tools and material.  If I’d been teaching it pre-Internet, I’d have a boring textbook and the class would be much less information packed and much less vibrant than it currently is.  That would be a loss.  But the Internet also enables my students to be on Facebook and email while I’m teaching, only loosely paying attention sometimes.  I’m torn about “disallowing” that.  It’s kind of impossible in a computer lab.  Mostly I try to engage them, ask them questions.

There was some discussion of that in the show, of needing to reach students where they are, but also of students believing that they’re successful, not just in spite of their multi-tasking, but because of it.  Some early research suggests that they’re completely wrong.  Part of my exhaustion this week, has been because I’ve actually mostly been focused on one thing at a time, spending an hour or two doing one thing, then shifting to something else.  I think I’m out of practice.

There was also a fair amount done with video games.  And the show displayed both the good and bad things about video games.  They showed a kid that was “addicted” to gaming, and also groups of friends who were getting together in real life, but who’d known each other for years via World of Warcraft (more on that in the WoW Wednesday post).  I’m on the fence about this one.  As I said in an earlier post about this topic, my son and I especially are online playing games quite a bit.  I would say that he can play up to 3 or 4 hours a day.  We’re not very consistent about our limits, though when grades drop, we get pretty strict.  Part of me feels anxious about this.  On the one hand, I know that the complexity of the game makes it hard just to spend an hour playing.  On the other hand, I think Geeky Boy should expand his horizons.  Unlike some of the kids in the show, though, he’s still an avid reader and plays sports, but doesn’t do that many other things.  Sometimes, I think it’s easier for us to just sit in front of the computer rather than find something else to do.  And that worries me.

Because of the Internet, though, I think I read more than I did before.  I’m probably reading fewer books, but I’m reading more articles from a wider variety of sources than I did before.  I used to work my way through the Chronicle, and over the years, have subscribed to a few mainstream news magazines, but I’ve never subscribed to a newspaper, mostly because I found most of it didn’t interest me.  Now, I read the Inquirer, the New York Times, and many others, as articles of interest find their way to me through various means.  I listen to podcasts from NPR, the Economist, and other sources while I work out, expanding what I listen to.  I watch much less tv, focusing on what I want to watch, sometimes downloading those things from the Internet.  That seems to me a good thing.

In the end, I think the show raised some really interesting points.  And I’ve been thinking about those points for a while.  Are we too disconnected from each other despite our constant connection?  Are we losing interest in a variety of things because we would prefer to be online?  Or can we create connection and create new interests through online worlds?  How much time online is too much time?  Does it depend on what you’re doing?  I honestly don’t know the answers to any of these questions.  I’m grateful for the Internet.  I can honestly say it has mostly changed my life in positive ways.  But I can also say that it has made me feel less than positive, about what I’m doing online, about the time I spend there, or because of interactions I’ve had there.  Maybe, it’s just like real life, which isn’t always positive either.

It’s here.  I can feel it in every bone of my body.  I’ve been in super go mode since early last week all the way through the weekend.  I’m holding on until Thursday, when I will take the afternoon largely off–same for Friday.  And then, by God, I am sleeping in on Saturday.

Here it is, my interview with Chef Anne.  Worst Cooks in America‘s season finale is tonight at 10 on The Food Network, and they’re taking nominations of worst cooks for the next season.

I had to laugh at this article in the New York Times, suggesting part-time college teaching as an option for un- or underemployed people.  Really?  Honestly, for the amount of time one puts in, you’d be better off waiting tables.  But I understand, you’ve got your Ph.D., why waste it as a waitress.  I do like my part-time gig, but if I were looking to make an actual income, I don’t think part-time teaching is what I’d be pursuing.  I agree with the article that there are a lot of intangible benefits to teaching part time.  But it also glosses over the generally poor treatment of adjuncts and all the complex reasons for the fact that there’s such a demand for adjuncts in the first place.

This past weekend, I attended Educon 2.2 in Philly, hosted by Chris Lehmann and the Science Leadership Academy.  I don’t have time for a huge post, so let me just make a couple of observations.  As far as I could tell, both by the sessions I attended and the overall list, there were very few presentations where people talked at you or went through a step-by-step how to.  The conversations that occurred, and they were conversations, were about big issues: what is professional development, what is the role of play in learning and how do we incorporate more into our teaching, what will schools of the future look like.  And it wasn’t presenters telling us what they thought about all of those things.  Instead, they had us talk to each other about them, recognizing that we all have ideas and expertise to share.  The more the session was about us talking to each other, the more I liked it.  I liked hearing from other people and meeting other people.  I made some very nice and quite unexpected connections.

I had this weird sensation for much of the time as I shifted roles from teacher of teachers to teacher to parent.  I had some interesting conversations around getting parents involved beyond bake sales.  My frustration over the lack of transparency in my kids’ classrooms found a voice and a sympathetic ear.  I spent a lot of time with some colleagues from University of Mary Washington and we were marveling at how similar the conversations that were occurring were to those that occur around teaching in higher ed.  We also noted that more faculty should be knowledgeable about K-12 education beyond their own children’s.

If you’re involved in education at all, this is a conference I urge you to attend next year.  It is lively, informative and inspirational.  I couldn’t have picked a better way to spend my time this weekend.