All Posts Tagged With: "professors"
A psychology professor’s protest
No snacks? No professor.
A professor at Sacramento State University in California walked out of his first-year psychology class Thursday because his students didn’t bring any snacks, reports the Sacramento Bee.
Some students were upset about missing their last lab before their midterm exam and complained.
But Prof. George Parrott said students were warned in the course handout that “Not having a snack = no Dr. Parrott or TAs. Now you are responsible for your own lab assignment.”
Parott told The Bee that the snack obligation is his way of encouraging students to work collectively, because they must collaborate on what to bring.
“Having these goodies in the class breaks down some of the formality and some of the rigidity in the class,” he added. Parrot, who is semi-retired, said he has required snacks in class for 39 years.
Why profs don’t need more teacher training
We’re good enough already, says Prof. Pettigrew
Over in the UK, there’s more talk about university professors needing formal teacher training. One hears similar proposals more and more lately in this country, too. But in the end, it is, like so many ideas about higher education, a meretricious scheme masquerading as commonsense reform.
On the surface, the notion that university professors should have some kind of formal Education credential has a certain appeal. Professors, after all, spend a lot of their time teaching, why wouldn’t it make sense to require them to have the same level of training as other teachers? Just because you know about your discipline, the thinking goes, doesn’t mean you know how to teach it.
Stop attacking university research
If professors don’t produce research, who will?
University research is under attack these days. This editorial in the Globe and Mail is just the latest call for “reform” of a system where university professors are, they say, too devoted to research, contemptuous of teaching, and wasting the public’s money. If professors spent more time teaching and less time researching, taxpayers and students would get more bang for their buck, they argue. As a student and a young scholar, I always took the value of university research for granted.
Apparently I can’t any longer.
One reason such editorializing is wrong-headed is that the anti-teaching prof is a myth. While those outside the academy like to represent today’s professor as a hyper-nerd who can churn out papers but not explain anything, the stereotype simply doesn’t hold up. In nine years as a student and eleven as a professor, I have met only a few professors who hated teaching, and not a single one who didn’t work hard at it.
That’s ‘professor’ uptight to you
Website offers profs group therapy
June Madeley is annoyed with the increasingly rude demands she gets from students at the University of New Brunswick in Saint John. Ten years ago, it was common for them to see her during office hours when they had a question. “Now there’s an expectation that we’ll answer their emails immediately and meet them whenever there’s a good time for them.” And as surely as the leaves pile up on campus each October, the communications professor knows her inbox will soon fill with complaints about mid-terms scheduled for the week after the Thanksgiving holiday. “There are a lot of people who feel they can’t make the exam because of travel arrangements,” she says. “And others who think it’s unfair that they have to study that weekend.”
But when Madeley gets frustrated, she doesn’t fire off a snotty email to the student. She logs on to “That’s ‘Professor’ Uptight to You, Johnny,” a Facebook group with 297 members, all of them teaching at universities and colleges. The members-only site is a place where university educators can vent in the form of steaming emails they wish they could write to their students but can’t because that would be, well, rude. Madeley, who says she hasn’t posted yet, enjoys reading the rants from her colleagues. The site is run by Khrystyne Keane, a Connecticut-based editor for a non-profit group, who took over its administration as a favour to a professor friend. The logo—a unicorn standing under a rainbow—is a jab at students, some of whom feel they are every bit as special as the fabled one-horned horse and the multicoloured arc.
The posts are all written to anonymous Janeys and Johnnies, but they share one trait: carefully crafted sarcasm. “Dear Johnny, I suspect that if you had spent as much time and effort on your last assignment as you did on the long flaming email you just sent me, this whole ‘conversation’ would never have happened,” reads one. “Dear Janey, I want to assure you that we didn’t do anything important in class. We just stared out the window for three hours in silence,” reads another.
Nothing riles a professor more than asking about material covered in a skipped lecture. But Joey O’Kane, a vice-president of the University of New Brunswick Student Union, thinks it’s no big deal. He also thinks it’s reasonable to expect email responses from profs within 24 hours, preferably 12. “Professors have a pretty good gig,” he says. “You put in some office hours, you teach for a few hours and then you end up with a decent paycheque, so taking 10 minutes out of your day to respond to a few emails . . . I don’t think that’s asking too much.”
Kevin Maness, another Facebook member from Eastern University in Pennsylvania, recalls a student who emailed him a couple of weeks after the last semester ended and asked if there was anything he could do to increase his grade because he had been “too busy” playing basketball. Incredulous, Maness wanted to shoot off a caustic retort. Long before he had even heard about That’s “Professor” Uptight, someone else had addressed the same complaint with a post that read: “Dear Johnny, Just tell me the grade you want and I’ll change it in the book, because it doesn’t really matter anyway.” After joining the group last month, Maness has found it to be “great group therapy.”
When Maness attended the University of Pennsylvania in the early ’90s, he accepted that professors would challenge him. In return for doing the coursework, he was rewarded with the grade he had earned. Now, if he hands out a C-minus “it’s almost like a complete shock to them.”
So why the attitude? In their book Lowering Higher Education: The Rise of Corporate Universities and the Fall of Liberal Education, University of Western Ontario sociologists James Côté and Anton Allahar say it started when higher education became purely a financial exchange. Funding pressures forced universities to accept as many students as possible, even those who weren’t suited to academics, says Côté. That crowds lecture halls with students who shouldn’t be there.
At the very least, one educator feels students should learn to mind their manners. At the University of Minnesota, law professor Michele Goodwin added “civility” to her course requirements this September. “Failure to follow this guideline will affect your final grade,” she wrote in the class syllabus, explaining that emails should include the basic salutation “Dear Professor Goodwin” and not “Hey Prof.”
She even assigned practice email as homework. “It’s a bit awkward for professors to think, wow, this is actually my job now?” says Goodwin, who blogs for industry publication The Chronicle of Higher Education, “but it’s necessary.” If the new rules don’t work out, at least she has a place to commiserate. The professor can always join That’s “Professor” Uptight to You, Johnny.
Editor’s Note: I wrote this story for the print edition of Maclean’s. As both Profs. Maness and Magatha have pointed out in the comments section, it should have included more nuance. For one, I should have made it more clear that every single professor I spoke to for this piece exuded passion for teaching. Indeed, research shows that North American professors work on average around 55 hours per week and many of those hours are dedicated to helping students learn beyond the classroom—something they get little credit for. The profs. also made it clear that there are many students who don’t fit the stereotype of entitled. I agree. While it’s a challenge to decide what to include in the space allotted, I should have done a better job. I also want to note that there was a factual error in this story that was introduced in the editing process. Maness did not read a complaint “months earlier” from another professor who sarcastically offered to change a student’s grade. That was merely what he said he might have written had he know about the page at the time.
Job market improves for languages professors
But annual hiring is still one-third lower than in 2007-08
The Modern Languages Association’s job board is North America’s dominant website for posting full-time professor jobs in English and foreign languages departments. That makes it a decent barometer for the two fields’ PhD job markets.
An analysis of this year’s listings shows that full-time job availability improved compared to the previous two devastating years—a period in which listings dropped 40 per cent. There were 8.2 per cent more English professor jobs posted in 2010-11 than in 2009-10. The number of foreign languages jobs was up too—7.1 per cent year-on-year. It’s a welcome improvement, but annual hiring is still one-third below its peak in 2007-08.
Continue reading Job market improves for languages professors
10 things to ban (instead of bottled water)
These things annoy Prof. Pettigrew far more
Last week I wrote that banning bottled water from universities was environmentally sensitivity gone too far. I hinted that there were other things much worse, and if we are going to start banning things, water should be way down on our list. Just to show that I am not entirely a spoil-sport when it comes to forbidding things, I offer 10 other things that I would rather see disappear.
1. Cheap cologne. While cheap perfume for women seems to be on the decline, cheap cologne for men seems to be making a comeback. Bottom line: I don’t want to smell you. Period.
2. Asking a professor where another professor is or when another professor will be back. It’s always the same: student arrives at Professor Hallcross’s door and knocks. No answer. Knocks again. No answer. Comes to my door: “do you know where Professor Hallcross is?” No. How would I know? Do you think we professors have some kind of universal academic GPS? Do you think I have a magic map showing his footprints moving through the Hufflepuff common room?
3. Non-specific email help requests. EG: “I don’t understand the assignment you gave us. Can you explain it?” No, because I don’t know what course you are in, which assignment you mean, or what part of it you don’t understand.
4. Pretending you didn’t know plagiarism was wrong. You cheated. You got caught. At least own up to it.
5. Walking in large groups slowly down the hall. Some of us have places to be. And for that matter, don’t you have somewhere to be? The library? Class?
6. Doing homework from one class in another class. You’re missing my thoughtful comments on Oscar Wilde, and I’m distracting you from memorizing brain anatomy. Why bother?
7. Asking what you need to do to pass the course after the course is more than half over. Think back to the beginning of class and you’ll recall that I told you what to do to pass the course…
8. Asking for a higher grade so that you can keep your scholarship or get into a program you want to get into. Those scholarship and admissions committees rely on me to let them know how you’ve done. If I raise your grade to the line they have set, it defeats the purpose of the line.
9. Bird courses. If there’s no way a student can try hard and still fail, then it’s not a serious course. This is mostly the fault of professors, but hey students, don’t feed the birds! Challenge yourselves.
10. Asking your course adviser which profs are the “good” ones. I don’t know what you think a good prof is. Do you mean funny? Conscientious? Easy grader? And even if I did know what you were looking for, I don’t see other professors in the classroom. Most times I don’t know if they’re what you’re looking for. Even if I did, I’m not going to bad mouth my colleagues. Well, except one.
Once we’ve gotten rid of all these things, then you can talk to me about water.
Is this what 17-year-old students are really like?
List about mindset of incoming class has a few mistakes
Beloit College has released its annual Mindset List. It’s supposed to provide professors with a window into the minds of their incoming class, so that they can avoid dated references.
But this year’s list, about those born in 1993, seems to show us more about what professors think the new generation is like, than what they’re actually like. I know — my younger brother is a 17-year-old first-year student. The list doesn’t reflect him or his friends very well at all.
Here are five items that show the Mindset List may be out of touch:
1. Ferris Bueller and Sloane Peterson could be their parents.
This seems to imply that kids these days don’t know John Hughes. In fact, the 2009 Canadian documentary Don’t You Forget About Me showed that Hughes classics — particularly Ferris Bueller’s Day Off — resonate with today’s teenagers as much as they did with the teens of 1986.
2. The only significant labor disputes in their lifetimes have been in major league sports.
It may be true that few teens were bothered by the recent Canada Post strike. But British Columbian teens will likely remember the two weeks they got off when their teachers struck in 2005. Others will recall when the cast of Jersey Shore picketed to increase their salaries from $10,000 per episode.
3. Dial-up is soooooooooo last century!
This seems to imply that young people in Canada have used dial-up. Most of them have not. Even for those a decade older (like me), the otherworldly buzz-and-whir of modems is a distant memory.
4. Their older siblings have told them about the days when Britney Spears, Justin Timberlake and Christina Aguilera were Mouseketeers.
As a 26-year-old older sibling, I myself was too young to enjoy The Mickey Mouse Club. However, I am old enough to remember when the dance moves in the video “Baby One More Time” were considered too risque for a 16-year-old Britney.
5. They pressured their parents to take them to Taco Bell or Burger King to get free pogs.
How could they have? It was 1994 when Canadian newspapers reported on the milk-cap flipping craze and the subsequent banning of them in schools. The Class of 2015 would have been in diapers and without the needed motor skills in 1994. Never mind the vocabulary to bug their parents.
The grading system needs a rewrite
Professor Pettigrew proposes an entirely new system
A few years ago, a colleague told me that when he was a TA, he was told never to give a grade below 45. The reason was that students earning a very low grade would dig themselves into a hole and wouldn’t be able to pass the course. At the time, I scoffed at such a practice. After all, it’s unfair to give a student who did next to nothing a 45 when another student who just fell short the same 45. And what if the student doesn’t turn in the paper at all? A 45 for nothing?
Another way to view this problem, as Douglas Reeves has argued, is to note that the standard A, B,C, D, F grading system over-punishes missed assignments which get graded at zero. Actually, it’s worse: any serious failure is systemically unfair because the F range is, compared to other grades, huge.
Still further, the traditional scale forces professors to grade with a very narrow range. Most papers are somewhere between D- and B+, a range that uses only thirty points (50-79) out of one hundred.
The solution is to revise the percentage system to equally distribute grades over the whole range from zero to one hundred. We change to old system:
A=80-100
B=70-79
C=60-69
D=50-59
F=0-49
to a new system:
A=80-100
B=60-79
C=40-59
D=20-39
F=0-19
Now, I’m not suggesting that a failing paper that used to deserve a 40 under the old system would now pass. What I mean is that the paper that deserved a 40 under the old system would now be given a 16 in the new system. The numbers are different but represent the same thing, just as 0 Celsius is no colder than 32 Fahrenheit.
The new system means that one disastrous failure or one missed assignment in an otherwise decent performance doesn’t cause a student to fail the whole course. For instance, imagine a student, Mishrump Middleton, who has four equally-weighted assignments in his course and earns a C- on the first three but fails to turn in the last one.
Mishrump is no Rhodes Scholar, obviously, but he probably doesn’t deserve to fail the course. But, under the old system, Mishrump gets a 45 as his final grade — an F — and fails because that single zero drags him down. But under my system, Mishrump gets a 30 which, remember, is now a D and so still gets credit for the course, which, intuitively, he probably deserves. Put another way, Mishrump gets the equivalent of the old 55 instead of the old 45 because the grades are more logically distributed.
But how can I use my new system? I can’t simply give a C- student a grade of 40 and expect everyone else at my university to know that what I mean by 40 is not the same as what they mean by 40. And even if I could get my whole university to switch over to my system, it might be confusing to others if Cape Breton University’s transcripts showed a middling student with a 45 average instead of a 62. The whole country will have to make the switch.
In the meantime, I have a solution for my own classes. I will give students letter grades but calculate their grades using my new scale. Then, at the end of the course, I will translate those grades back into the standard percentages. It will be more work, but it beats giving every failing paper a 45.
Assistant? Associate? What the words before “professor” mean
Titles may not mean what you think they do
In a year or two, I will be applying for Full Professor. To those outside academia or, indeed, to most students, the various ranks that professors hold may seem mysterious if not outright confounding. For those of us in the game, the promotion to “Full” is a daunting, yet tantalizing prospect.
Like most in the university world, I began my teaching career as a Teaching Assistant and then advanced to an occasional term or two as a lecturer while I worked on my PhD. These are the least prestigious titles (and jobs) for academic instructors. TAs and lecturers are the underclass of scholarly teaching: overwhelmed and underpaid, overworked and under-appreciated.
What every young academic really wants is a tenure-track position, a position that is more or less permanent and carries the hope of future promotions — and I was no different. In fact, I almost gave up on university work altogether when a tenure-track job seemed out of reach. When the tenure-track position did come along, I, like most young scholars, began at the rank of Assistant. This rank’s name is misleading, because “Assistant Professor” sounds like an assistant to a real professor, which, of course, it isn’t. In fact, in terms of the actual work professors do, the exact rank means little.
But it matters to us because those at higher ranks have more prestige and earn more money. Thus, it was my mission in the early years of my career to get promoted to the next rank: Associate. At some universities, the promotion to Associate goes hand in hand with tenure, so that everyone who is granted tenure is automatically promoted to Associate and everyone at the rank of Associate necessarily has tenure. At my august institution that is not the case. Indeed, being denied tenure is extremely rare in Canadian universities so the real prize is the promotion. There are few positions more secure than the Canadian tenured Associate Professor.
The final step at most universities is Full Professor or, simply, Professor. And while, again, it may sound like this is the rank most long-time profs would hold, it’s not. In fact, most professors never make it past Associate. As of September, for example, my department will not have a single Full Professor among its members. It’s something of a honour, and it’s an honour I covet.
And it’s not just the money. For one thing, Full Professor opens the way to some other perks like the possibility of receiving the honorific title “Professor Emeritus” upon retirement. But mostly there’s something deeply reassuring about not having to put any qualifier before Professor. I will have truly arrived, and it’s going to be sweet.
Now, where did I put that application package?
What do professors make in Canada?
It may be more than you guessed. Click to see where your school stands.
What does your professor make? Assuming he or she is a full (tenured) professor, it’s probably more than you guessed. The median pay among full professors at 31 Canadian schools is $128,480, according to a recent study.
That said, if your professor is at the University of Northern British Columbia, she likely makes a far less than if she’s with the University of British Columbia. A report by Culture, Tourism and the Centre for Education Studies shows that salaries in the 2009-10 school year followed no apparent pattern. Some highly-ranked schools pay less than not-so-prestigious schools. A few smaller schools — Trent for example — pay profs much better than bigger neighbours. The report presented data from 31 schools. That’s fewer than half of the 81 schools profiled in the Maclean’s Guide to Canadian Universities, meaning this list is far from comprehensive.
It’s worth reiterating that these figures are for full professors only. Assistant professors, associate professors and contract faculty make much less and many academics work for more than a decade before getting full status, if they ever do. Still, these numbers show that professorship is a lucrative career from coast to coast.
Trent – 158,876
Calgary – 154,008
British Columbia – 151,145
Alberta – 145,585
Athabasca – 144,689
McMaster – 144,366
Lethbridge – 144,255
York – 143,091
Wilfrid Laurier – 142,905
Windsor – 141,831
Ottawa – 141,417
Guelph – 139,934
Lakehead – 137,827
Manitoba – 137,765
Brock – 137,666
UOIT – 135,000
St. Mary’s – 129,603
Victoria – 128,122
UPEI – 126,903
Memorial – 126,623
Nipissing – 123,754
New Brunswick – 123,546
St. Thomas – 123,307
Brandon – 117,494
Acadia – 110,000
UNBC – 103,796
Cape Breton – 102,622
Mount Royal – 101,974
OCAD – 101,086
Kwantlen – 84,896
Trinity Western – 78,778
Nice to meet you, uh, professor is it?
How to navigate the professor name game
Though there are probably a dozen more important things to worry about in the stress-filled world that is university life, how to address your instructor can still be a source of anxiety. As trivial as it may be, it can sometimes be difficult to walk the line between being polite and pretentious, respectful and presumptuous.
For those looking to make a good impression on their instructors, Inside Higher Education’s Nate Kreuter had a few tips for traversing the professor name game:
- When erring on the side of caution, like with a faculty member you’re meeting for the first time, it’s always best to address him or her as “professor.” Though some prefer “doctor”, or that you simply call them by their first name, ” ‘professor’ is a safe, happy medium that you can generally rely upon, until or unless individuals indicate that they would prefer to be addressed in a different way,” says Kreuter.
- This rule also applies when writing to a professor you’re not acquainted with. Once they reply, you may be able to gauge their preferred title from their signature.
- Never address a faculty member as ‘assistant professor’ or ‘associate professor’, as it could be seen as denoting someone’s status in an inappropriate way, as well as sounding extremely awkward.
- Be careful with hyphenated last names. “Professor Smith-Baker probably prefers to be addressed as “Professor Smith-Baker,” and not “Professor Baker.” The hyphen is in there for a reason, so take note of it,” Kreuter writes.
- If you’re not sure how to pronounce a difficult last name, politely ask them, rather than try to guess. You never know if someone could be sensitive about having their name mispronounced.
It’s time to drop a course when…
Having trouble? Talk to your profs
Don’t assume your teachers don’t care because they don’t chase you down
I’ve never liked asking teachers for help. There’s something I’ve always found uncomfortable about asking anything more than whether I’ve picked a suitable topic for an essay. But learning to ask for help can be extremely important for new university students.
Related: To impress a prof
In high school if you missed an assignment your teachers probably noticed, they probably even spoke to you. Don’t expect this in university. Many classes don’t have regular assignments and even in those that do, your professors probably aren’t going to say anything. It might be easy to make the assumption that they don’t care, but that isn’t usually the case. The fact is you’re an adult now and they expect you to take responsibility for your work, it’s not their job to track down missing assignments.
A couple years ago I fell behind in an assignment-heavy class. My program has a policy that late assignments would not be accepted and I didn’t think to ask whether exceptions could be made. Looking at the remaining assignments and their mark values I realized that passing the class would be almost impossible and, in view of impending failure, I discontinued the class.
Last year, I got into a similar situation. I had fallen behind in a workshop class. Passing would be extremely difficult and there was no chance of getting a good mark. But this time I decided to talk to the professor, who agreed to accept the assignments I’d missed with the caveat that some marks would be deducted for lateness. While my final mark wasn’t perfect, it was higher than it would have been if I hadn’t talked to the professor.
Sure, talking to your professors won’t solve every academic problem but it doesn’t hurt to ask. Just because something is the policy of your program doesn’t mean it’s written in stone.
To impress a prof
You have to think like a prof.
There has never been a shortage of advice for university students, some of it good, most of it obvious. Keep up with your readings, get plenty of sleep, and so on.
One bit of advice that you hear less often, however, might be the most valuable of all.
Understand how professors think.
For the most part, after all, professors don’t think like you, because you are a normal person and they are intellectuals, driven by the need to argue, and discover, and innovate, finding joy in exploring the tiniest reaches of the most obscure subject. And as such they want to be valued for their intellect, because there aren’t that many places where intellect is valued.
Now, I am not advocating outright sucking up, but seeing the prof’s side of things might change your academic approach. For instance:
1. If you have to skip class, never skip the last class of the week. Professors tend to plan their courses by week and so as the week draws to a close, they will try to fit everything they can into that class.
2. Unless you are scheduled to do some kind of presentation, never tell your prof that you won’t be in class for whatever reason. Similarly, don’t explain your absences. To you, it seems respectful and open, but most professors take pride in not being high school teachers and not having to deal with attendance and other similar vulgarities. By providing an explanation, you are implying the professor would want one, and this will offend his sense of laissez-faire academics. He wants to be able to say, “My students are adults, and it is not up to me to keep track of their comings and goings,” and you up in his face about your son’s soccer game is cramping his style.
3. See your prof in person. Email is convenient and sending an email message might seem like it would make the professor’s life easier. And you probably are. But what you don’t realize is that professors are generally contractually required to be in their offices for so many hours a week, and it is discouraging when no one ever shows up. Getting there in person shows you really care about the subject matter and makes the professor feel like she’s changing your life. We love to feel like we are changing your life.
4. Never tell your prof that you are willing to settle for a middling grade. To you this might sound like you are being reasonable and that you are putting your prof at ease by showing you are not going to be too demanding. But remember that nearly all your professors were straight A students when they were students, and not wanting an A will seem like laziness, apathy, or a sad lack of ambition to them. Better to stroll your way to a C and let them think you were doing your best.
5. Never ask more than two questions per hour in class. Professors like a certain number of questions because it shows enthusiasm and interest, but too many questions from one person makes other students tune out and your prof will become annoyed by the growing restlessness in the room.
Of course, you will have to adjust the particular approach depending on the kind of program you are in and the kinds of instructors you have. But the basic idea is the same. Try to see it from their side. Doing so may not convince your instructor to give you an A you didn’t deserve, but it will build good will and good will can give you a benefit of the doubt here, and extra helpful tip there. And it all adds up.
Related: Having trouble? Talk to your profs
Tiny raise for UManitoba profs
And no labour unrest
Faculty at the University of Manitoba recently ratified their collective agreement with the university that provides a 4.4 per cent raise over the next three years.
This is quite a tiny increase, compared to the 2007 agreement that saw salaries for academic staff rise 2.5 per cent in the first and second year and a 2.9 per cent in the third year, a deal reached only after narrowly avoiding a strike. Considering the professors held a strike that lasted four days in 2001, and another that lasted 23 days in 1995, it’s surprising this round of negotiations resolved itself without any major problems. At least, not that we know about yet.
Members of the University of Manitoba Faculty Association (UMFA), which represents approximately 1 ,700 professors, lecturers, librarians, and instructors, will receive a $500 lump sum pay increase in the first year, a one per cent increase in the second year, and a 2.9 percent increase in the third.
The seemingly problem-free negotiations by far contrasts the contract negotiations this year between the university and security services officers, which came to a complete breakdown over the summer.
The university had been in talks with Security Services for a year. When these negotiations stalled in early August, the university presented the small membership of 27 employees with what they called their final offer, along with the threat of a lock out if they voted not to take it. When officers voted not to accept, the threat proved not to be an empty one, and the officers were barred from campus .
While the lock out only lasted a few days and happened during a time when the campus was relatively quiet, it was still a scary time for students and staff who didn’t know who was patrolling the campus or when (if ever) these officers were coming back.
As UMFA president Cameron Morrill put it in the Winnipeg Free Press, this is unfortunately just a sign of the times at the university which has been facing $36.4 million budget shortfall for 2010. When U of M president David Barnard first annouced the shortfall last fall, the campus was filled with rumours and uncertainty over what would befall the university. Aside from announcing some “resource optimization” measures and tuition fee increases, administrators have mostly left staff and students in the dark.
The results of these budget constraints are starting to come to light with each labour relations issue that arises. Considering the majority of university’s budget is comprised of salaries and benefits for faculty and staff, there’s no doubt that the relatively small increase for faculty members is a reflection of the U of M’s current money woes, and judging by preliminary data from Statistics Canada, still leaves the U of M far behind many universities across the country in terms of professor pay.
The worst type of exam
‘Long answer’ and ‘thought’ questions? I’m doomed.
When I woke up this morning, I realized to my horror that three weeks have somehow gone missing. Overnight.
Three of my midterms are scheduled for October 26, 27, and 28. At the end of September, before October had completely disappeared without any warning, they were all safely in the category of “meh, I’ll worry about these later.” I had almost a month to study and catch up with the readings. No problem.
Now it’s suddenly October 25 and my Molecular Biology midterm is tomorrow, and the next day I have a Developmental Biology midterm, and the day after that, a French midterm. And a Biochemistry lab report. And a quiz. And a French assignment.
This sense of impending doom kind of gives me a feeling of deja-vu. Except last semester it was an organic chemistry exam.
The semester before that, it was a microbiology exam.
And the semester before that, it was a physics exam.
In the end, all three of them weren’t nearly as bad as I expected. The problem is, there are two crucial differences between those exams and my upcoming midterms:
1) I’ve already used up all my brownie points with the Exam Gods.
Last semester, three days before my Organic Chemistry final, I prayed to the Exam Gods to forgive my procrastinating ways and let me pass. I swore that for the rest of my life I would diligently study every single night. I even offered my younger brother as a sacrifice, if they would just show me some mercy and let me pass.
2) All of those other exams were multiple choice.
Whenever I was confronted with a question that was beyond the scope of my last-minute cramming, I could use the process of elimination or the process of closing my eyes and choosing whichever option my pencil lands on.
Both of the upcoming biology midterms, on the other hand, are made up of “long answer” and “thought” questions.
Personally, I think the professors are being unfair with this whole “thought question” business. In order to do well on that kind of test, you actually have to understand the material. You can’t just ingest the textbook and then regurgitate it on the exam.
What the heck are these professors trying to do? Teach us something?
-photo courtesy of purplepick
End notes
Sometimes no notes are the best kind for lecturing.
You can tell a lot about a university instructor from the notes that he uses in class. When I was an undergraduate my friends scoffed at profs who dragged out yellowed sheaves with text that had been pounded out on a manual typewriter decades before. By contrast, they revered those teachers who lectured brilliantly with no notes whatsoever. I never wanted to be the former, and now I am working at being the latter.
When I gave lectures as a graduate student, I prepared detailed notes for every class with full sentences and key words in bold. Just starting out, I was deathly afraid of seeming unprepared, or, worse, forgetting where I was and not knowing what to say, or worst of all, of running out of material before the class ended. Like all grad students, I feared deep down that I was a fraud and would be found out at any minute. I would psych myself up on the way to class by assuring myself that I was well prepared, and if I was going to be exposed as a fraud, it would not be today. So my notes offered a kind of security. I didn’t just read from my script, but I had the script there, just in case. In fact, if I got too nervous and forgot what I was going to say, I would read a few lines from what I had prepared and that would get me back on track.
That practice continued when I became a professor because, again, you want to make a good impression, and nothing makes a worse impression than seeming inexpert on the topic you’re supposed to be an expert in. Or so I thought. But a few years in, I had an experience that changed my attitude. I was preparing to teach a play I had not taught before and was pressed for time. I simply did not have the hours to prepare the kind of notes I always prepared before. And so, in desperation, I made only a brief outline for each of the scenes I wanted to talk about and the main ideas I wanted to address. As I went to class, much of my old grad-school anxiety came back, and I feared the worst. But to my astonishment, the class went better than any class that year. Without detailed notes, I spoke more freely about the play and students picked up on it. Since I was not so bound to my notes, the students felt more free to raise questions and make contributions, because they sensed they were not interrupting me.
That class marked a gradual turn in my teaching style and over the years I have come to rely on notes less and less. Even when I had notes prepared from years past — not yellowed but well-used — I relied on them less frequently, and in many classes, I had an old lecture prepared which differed significantly from the lecture I had come to give. Now, when I teach a new text, I often make only annotations in the margins of the book itself to remind myself of key points and talk without notes at all. It turns out that I actually know quite a bit about this subject I have spent my life studying, and finding enough to say simply isn’t a problem anymore. Moreover, not reading from notes leads to not standing in one place and sometimes not standing at all. And with their prof more relaxed and informal, students feel all the more willing to engage with with the text at hand. It’s less a lecture and more a guided conversation which is what I always wanted anyway. The new format actually takes more time because there is much more questioning and discussion.
Teaching in this less formal way has meant a change to the way I give exams. Since the factual material presented in class comes less systematically and more organically, I can’t rely on having covered a specific set of facts in any given week or even any given term. So my new exams will have fewer questions about specific knowledge and more questions that invite the application of a range of knowledge and skills. Such tests may be a little harder for students, but I’m hopeful that the more lively classes will better prepare them for these kinds of evaluations.
All this has worked in my case, and has come as a part of a process of constant reflection on how I want to teach, but I hasten to point out that a no-notes approach may not work for everyone. I’ve had profs who stuck close to their notes and were riveting. I’ve had others who should have had notes to stick to.
But as for me, it has been 15 years since I gave my first lecture, and I have never felt less like a fraud.
Your high school teachers are wrong
Five reasons why university is a happy place
For some unexplained reason, lots of high school teachers describe university as a scary place. Sometimes, after assigning a ridiculous amount of homework, they’ll say something like “I’m just getting you ready for university.”
Yeah, sure.
Why not have a bulldozer smash half your house off before a tornado strikes, just so you’ll be “more adjusted to it.” You know, in case it ever happens.
There is a lot of work in university, but here’s the part your high school teachers aren’t telling you: for a million different reasons, university is way better than high school.
Here’s the top five:
5) You set the pace
How much homework do you have in university? To a certain extent, it’s up to you.
On the first day of classes, most professors give out a detailed course syllabus. There’s a list of readings and study questions, which help prepare you for the midterm and the final. In some courses there aren’t any assignments, essays, or research papers- for the whole semester, you’re preparing for two major tests.
Yeah, I know that doesn’t sound like a good thing. It might seem a bit scary to have your entire mark resting on two tests, but it gives you a lot of study flexibility. In university, you’re given lots of tools to succeed: in addition to a detailed schedule of readings, you’re often given study questions and practice quizzes. When you’re preparing for a midterm or exam, you’ll know exactly what you need to do, and you’ll know when you’re ready.
This might sound extremely lame, but in university you’re given a formula for success. There are a certain number of steps you need to take- reading the textbook, doing the study questions, looking over the practice quizzes- and then you’re ready.
4) Bully teachers are a thing of the past
In high school, everything depends on your teacher. It doesn’t matter if you normally love a certain subject: if your grade 12 biology teacher is a bully who decided on the first day of class that she simply doesn’t like your face, or the way you exhale, you’re not going to enjoy biology very much that year.
In university, things are different.
Sure, there are lots of professors who are worth seeking out because of their enthusiasm and engaging teaching style, and there are some professors who should be avoided at all costs because they’re boring, or make it clear they’d rather be anywhere else but standing there in front of 500 first-years.
But unlike in high school, your professor doesn’t determine whether you love or hate school. You’re an anonymous student in a sea of hundreds and hundreds of first-years. It’s never personal.
3) University is a safe-haven for nerds
In university, there’s room for everybody. If you want to party, there are definitely plenty of opportunities available. But if you’d rather study and get good marks, nobody will hold it against you.
2) Four months of summer vacation
May, June, July, August. Seriously, I’m not kidding.
Sure, most of us have part-time jobs year round, and full-time jobs during the summer. But four months away from school is still four months away from school.
1) Three day week? Totally possible.
In high school, you don’t have much control over your schedule. Once you’ve filled in all the mandatory courses, you get to choose between visual arts and music.
University is completely different. Depending on your program, you still have a certain number of mandatory courses. But there’s even wiggle room when it comes to these core courses: you can often choose between a one-hour lecture three times a week, or a three-hour lecture once a week.
And the rest is completely up to you.
University gives you a chance to pursue your interests and passions, with a range of courses spanning dozens of subject areas.
Or, if you’re anything like me, you can score a three day week.
In my first year, I managed to cram all three of my labs and my physics, chemistry and biology courses into a Monday, Wednesday, Friday schedule.
Of course, university is an opportunity to expand your horizons and challenge your ways of thinking. But why not expand your horizons while maintaining a three day week? Just something to think about.
And in later years, there’s always the possibility of a two day week…
-photo courtesy of dave_mcmt
We’re not laughing at you. Well, sometimes we are…
A little knowledge is a hilarious thing.
One of the guilty pleasures of being a professor is laughing at students’ writing. We probably shouldn’t, but when so many papers induce wincing, and so many more induce snoring, it’s hard not to chuckle when the opportunity presents itself.
The best bloopers (including many of these reported at Inside Higher Ed) are those where a simple but crucial spelling mistake, malapropism, or badly structured sentence results in students asserting things that are still meaningful, but entirely different than what they must have intended. That is, if the student is just completely wrong, it’s not funny; it’s only funny if they are almost right and yet still completely wrong.
For example, Milton lost his vision and could not see when he composed Paradise Lost. This, then, is not funny:
Surprisingly, when Milton composed his greatest poem he was completely deaf.
But this is funny:
Surprisingly, when Milton composed his greatest poem he was completely blonde.
I just made that up, but the IHE piece gives a real-life example of Pettigrew’s Principle on bloopers:
In a drama examination, one student explained Adolphe Appia’s revolutionary contribution to scenography thus: “He moved projectors on to surfaces and shuddered at moments of climax.”
Ask anyone who has been teaching at university for a while, and they will give you more examples. I, for instance, often have students of Doctor Faustus tell me that Faustus sold his soul to satin, and Shakespeare students earnestly explain that Othello was tricked into believing in Desdemona’s quilt. Once, in a paper on Arthur C. Clarke’s story “The Star” (in which a scientist’s religious faith is challenged when he proves The Star of Bethlehem was a supernova that destroyed a thriving civilization), a student suggested that the main character could not fathom why God “could not have chosen an uninhibited planet.”
Student bloopers not only provide much-needed moments of catharsis during long marking sessions, they also allow for professors to bond. You see, not only do your professors laugh at silly student errors, they share them with their colleagues. A psychologist down the hall once came to my office door and told me about a student defining “avoidance behaviour.” In class, the professor had explained that one argument against corporal punishment in schools is that the kids so punished simply stop coming to school altogether — avoiding the situation, not changing their behaviours. The student dutifully reproduced the example on the exam: “Schools should not use capital punishment on students, or the students might stop coming.” Yeah, no kidding.
Profs share these unintentional howlers not to belittle the particular students — the code of the blooper says you must never give the student’s name — but rather to remind themselves that they are not alone. We all deal with the half-hearted and the half-witted. You think you have it bad? Just listen to this.
If it seems cruel that I, safely nestled behind my Ph.D. and my tenured position, am making light of those young strivers who are just trying to get through their classes, remember that I too was once an undergraduate struggling to show I knew what I was supposed to know and not always getting it right. Thus, as a first-year history student I wrote,
Napoleon’s soldiers returned from Russia a fraction of their former size.
If you are a student, feel free to have a good laugh at that. I have no doubt my prof did back then. And she probably showed it to the guy in the next office.
What I did right
A “take” is the opposite of a mistake. Did you get that OED people?
In my last post, I urged new undergraduates to avoid some of the mistakes I made in my own undergraduate career. This post relates some of the strategies that served me well — takes, if you will –and should serve you well, too.
1. Study what you love. It sounds a bit trite, I know, but I really was one of those people who followed a dream. I had trouble settling on a major until I happened upon the English and Drama program at the University of Western Ontario where I was studying. By happy circumstance, I got to know some of the senior drama students and that year’s director-in-residence and knew I wanted to be one of them. Many people, no doubt, worried about what was going to become of me with such an artsy major, and my grandfather was recruited to gently urge me on the path towards high school teaching, but I knew that I was learning a lot and when the time came I would somehow end up in a career that let me do what I loved. And here I am. And no, being a professor is not like being a high school teacher, thankfully.
2. Find new, smart friends. In a comment on my previous post, a reader urged me to not to neglect the social aspect of university life, and I certainly agree that social interactions are a key part of the experience. But by “social interactions” I do not mean getting drunk and falling down a flight of stairs every weekend. A university undergraduate is one of the few people for whom it is not unforgivably obnoxious to question everyone about everything. Find people who want to talk about big ideas. Talk about religion, talk about politics. Talk about all the things that you won’t feel comfortable talking about when you are at an office cocktail party ten years later. Many of my ideas about ethics, government, law, and art took shape during raucous, impromptu debates with classmates, roommates, friends — even strangers. For those of you attending your small, local universities, try to find some friends that you weren’t friends with in high school — you’ll be amazed at what other people think.
3. Never underestimate the value of thirty minutes. My roommate and I had a regular TV schedule that had us watching one show from 7:00 to 8:00 and something else at 8:30 (kids, “TV” was a kind of internet that you couldn’t control). In the interval, I would go upstairs and do homework for half an hour. My roommate marveled at this, partly in admiration at my discipline, and partly in incredulity that I thought I could get anything worthwhile done in half an hour. In fact, you can get a lot done in half an hour. You can read a chapter of a textbook, proofread the draft of a short paper, organize your schedule for the coming week. And, in practice, an undergraduate often has a half an hour here and there between classes, before the bus comes, and so on. But I think a lot of people assume that if you only have half an hour, there’s no point in getting to work. Wrong. Find something you can do, and do it. An extra half an hour a day is an extra 84 hours in an academic year, not counting exam periods. That’s more time than all the classes in a full-year course.












