Nelson Article
I found myself nodding my head up and down several times when reading the Nelson article. (I wasn't falling asleep, but rather agreeing with the findings. haha...) Students’ views of assignments very often differ from the views of the teacher. I believe this is directly related to the way the American school system is set up. In the end, classes boil down to a letter grade. Therefore, most of the time students write papers to receive a grade, not to grow as learners. I realize that sounds a bit harsh... haha. Teachers view assignments as a way for students to grow; Students view assignments as a way to get a grade. In my own academic past, I have often approached assignments in this way. I thought to myself, "What does the teacher REALLY want." It can almost seem like a game sometimes. You observe your teacher's likes and dislikes and attempt to adapt your writing style to that. I sometimes think that a major part of being "good" at school is knowing how to read your teacher and your classes. This idea is supported in parts of the Nelson article. John, the student from the second class, formulated his paper NOT by how it was outlined in the assignment, but in terms of how his last papers had been graded. The TA stressed recitation, so John responded by giving him/her recitation.
I have mixed feelings about the way in which the "guidelines" given out in the Sociology class affected the students. I think it is important to be clear when outling an assignment, so that students are not wallowing in confusion. Yet, I do not want to be so clear, that they reduce the paper to a list of bullet points that they can check off. That is not writing, it is list making! I guess the problem could be remedied by not giving students a "strict" list of guidelines, and by stressing that things will not be the only aspects of the paper graded. It is a tough line to walk. You don't want to constrict creativity, but you also don't want students to feel so insecure that they cannot produce effectively.
I was not at all surprised when the students did not respond favorably to the comments left on their papers. Revision was not stressed in the classes, so why should students care about continuing on with the texts? Once you give a student a letter grade, they feel as if their job is done. They have already received what they set out to get in the first place. I now know that I will never grade a "draft." If you do, students view it as a final product, not as a work in progress.
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7 comments:
Ashley pointed out that "students' views of assignments very often differ from the views of the teacher," and that this is also the case in public secondary schools. Similarly, when I was reading this article, I found myself thinking, "So basically, we need to learn how to teach completely different than how we have been taught by many, if not most of our past teachers." The entire article was, I thought, extremely accurate in portraying the ways in which students, especially undergraduates who are continuing to practice what they have learned from high school, write to satisfy the requirements for the assignment, and nothing more, avoiding the writing process itself at all costs.
Ashley also brought up the problem of the assignment guidelines for the sociology class being too clear, enough that they hindered the critical thinking of the students. On page 389, Nelson also examined this, and concluded with the idea that "teachers need to examine the costs and benefits of providing students with such explicit written instructions for producing papers." I couldn't agree more. It seems as though there are many teachers who give too specific of guidelines for assignments, so that the students have no room for their own creative thinking, and then there are also teachers who give too little feedback and guidance to the point that the students feel lost. It's in that happy medium where teachers should aim to teach. When I think of my favorite, and most effective college professors, they were the ones who guided me along through the writing process, but gave me plenty of room for my own ideas and style of writing. I really think that's important to find that balance, and it seems like the examples in the article were really trying to stress the dangers of either extreme.
One last thing Ashley mentioned in her blog that I would like to comment on is what she said about grading drafts, that, "if you do, students view it as a final product, not a work in progress." I couldn't agree more. I do like the idea of having students hand in drafts, rather than at the end in a portfolio (or not at all), because I think it encourages students to begin writing a paper earlier, and working on revising it more. I don't remember which article it was earlier in the semester, but we read about students writing their drafts after writing their paper, just to get it done, and I would be willing to bet that it happens with some frequency. But I agree with Ashley--labeling the paper with a grade will only intimidate the student, and separate the piece of writing from the writing process.
While I found the Nelson article to be kind of long and dry, there were definitely some valid points made about the way students see assignments as opposed to how the teacher views them. I think sometimes teachers don't realize there's such a big difference there, which is what we should try to be aware of as we begin teaching.
I am going to play a little devil's advocate here and say that I don't altogether think that figuring out what the teacher wants and writing toward that is a bad thing. It can be a challange as a writer, a challange to adapt to other styles and formats.
Because really lets face it, no matter how hard we try to get students to do their own thing, in the end they are asking themselves what we want, ultimately. I still do this in my classes now and do not think that I am alone. It's not bad to gear an assignment toward the audience of the teacher, what is bad is making the assignment too strict, as the one recitation teacher did with the guidelines. It is largely a double edged sword. We can't deny that in the end the student wants to know what it is that we want, and that is not entirely a bad thing (as long as what we want is for them to be creative).
This devil does agree that grading drafts is not such a wise idea. It gives the student too much ground to stand on without much direction.
In tis article, I found there to be three major problems with each of the examples given. The problem with Art and Barbara was the topic; it was too limiting. They had no desire to write about fieldwork and interviews; so for them, the writing was contrived. I saw this as something to avoid. The second group, John and Judy, had a problem with length. Length can be so limiting, sometimes you have more to say, sometimes not enough. This proved to be very problamatic for the pair because it became the focus, more about the word count than the content. The third example with Helen and Greg seemed to be about confusion, not really knowing what the professor wanted because he waited too long to hand back their eariler papers with comments on it. If a student doesn't have a clue at all as to what the teacher expects, it is just as difficut. I thought this was lack of responsibility on the part of the professor. Ultimately, it helps the students when they have some idea what is expected of them, and it hurts them when they little or too much expectation. I think a middle path approach is good, whatever we may come to define as a middle path for us an our students.
At times, as I read this article, I wasn’t sure what to think. It seems to be an accurate comparison of students’ versus instructors’ views, but at first I struggled to understand the purpose of the study. I think her discussion asks teachers to recognize students’ habits, education histories, and motivations when directing and executing assignments.
It’s funny that procrastination and lack of planning translates into being “spontaneous.” The student Barbra called herself “a ‘spontaneous’ writers whose ‘usual approach’ was to put off assignments and ‘work under pressure’ at the last minute” (377). Basically, this is an excuse to avoid planning—and we’ve all probably used it! Not only did both Barbra and Art fail to plan, but they managed to avoid field work entirely. Nelson does mention that Art has a “predisposition to expend minimal effort on writing assignments” although this “may actually have been fostered by the resources his teacher provided” (377). I understand that certain assignments, criteria, or instructions may promote this kind of behavior, but I have to wonder: can we really make students work? Can we make students pay attention? Some people are going to avoid writing, research, extra effort, and will fail to take advantage of class resources. And, in the end, Art got 75 points out of 100. So, his shortcut around field research—which he had to recognize as a shortcut—was unsuccessful. It didn’t work. Greg, who mistook Jane Austen for a Victorian author, got an F on a paper—which could have been avoided if he had approved his topic with the instructor or realized that his topic was the “paper proposal with no name on it” (386). The students in the engineering class considered the 200 word requirement to be ridiculous. If the instructor had discussed why synthesizing ideas and conciseness were important, and how this might be different from other assignments, would the paper and word limited have seemed less “arbitrary”? (381).
As a student, I like to know what’s expected of me—I like knowing the word requirements, appropriate scope, and themes of papers. I like guidelines. In some way, I think we all do. We can’t, after all, get away from grades in higher education. College may be about learning, but we can’t escape the evaluation of that learning. So, I think it is natural for students—myself included—to want to know what they should do to “succeed” in a course or assignment. On some level, structure is important; however, as Ashley mentioned, I do not what to reduce paper writing to list-making.
As for shortcuts, particularly Art and Barbra’s, Nelson calls them “sensible,” and mentions the “practical and opportunistic nature of cognitive activities in everyday settings” (377).
I do not think Nelson is down-playing the importance of guidelines as directions for students, but rather emphasizing, like Blackmon, that students view assignments differently than teachers.
Now, on Brookfield:
Both Brookfield and Nelson ask teachers to reevaluate their practices—students’ ideas do not always coincide with the teacher’s ideas. I never really considered “hunting” for my own assumptions—it’s hard to acknowledge that I have habits and dislikes and suppositions. As for the Brookfield article, I really appreciate the comparison between student-teacher views. I think it is easy to get caught up in practices that seem subversive. In actuality, sitting in a circle does not work for everyone, and a class discussion will not always be appropriate or productive. I suppose balance, constant evaluation, and flexibility can help teachers decide what works best for their class.
Along with this concept of critical reflection, just being informed and aware is helping me prepare for next semester. Brookfield points out that “informed action is one that has a good chance of achieving the consequences intended.” Critical reflection “embeds not only our actions buy also our sense of who we are as teachers in an examined reality.” Critical reflection can help us establish our own teaching theory, or, as Brookfield mentions, “we know why we believe what we believe” (22-23).
I also agree with the basic idea in Nelson's article about students and teachers being on different wave lengths when it comes to papers...but i also dont know how much of a problem i have with that. i realize that the student should want to learn more, do more, and all that but as teachers (especially for freshman) we should be guiding the students in the beginning about how to become successful. this means that we have stricter guidelines in order to help them succeed, maybe later in the semester or higher number seminar classes, a teacher can give a rise to student creation and back off of guidelines and restrictions. But, to be fair to the students our educational world is still run by tests, scores, and final grades and until that changes i dont think that we should take the paddles off the students their first time down the stream. (so proud of my metaphor). And agreeing with laurin, ashely and most others, i still work for my grade by judging the teacher BUT i really wish that i had the gumption to write how i really wanted without worrying about what my final grade would be ( i guess that is the other edge of the sword).
Oh, and about the negative circle thing in Brookefield, i think he is just shooting at flies, because no matter how you situate the students there will always be someone who refuses to cooperate. I mean, how would he have us rearrange the students now?? what is the new "it" seating arrangement? i still like circles, and i think they work best for a majority of students and teachers.
I am pro circle, for several reasons. First, it creates a more conversational atmosphere, and I know from my own experience that students who would rarely speak up in other classes, would at least talk once or twice per class – usually – due to the comfortable setting. If not for the circle, they would then have been tucked away, as they had with most any other classes previously taken. Reverting back into the shell, avoiding eye contact with other students, and so on.
Brookefield brings up an interesting point, but in this case, it appears that he is just trying to be a skeptic/cynic/devil’s advocate type, who wants to dispute the circle for the sake of argument. School, at all levels, has vast social components. Throwing students into the circle is like throwing them into a swimming pool, that may be cool for just a split second, but comfortable in very little time.
Granted, there are always exceptions, and Brookefield notes these. But, there will be exceptions to any classroom design. The key is to get the most of the group as a whole. From my experience, the circle always works. If it doesn’t, as the long as the teacher uses common sense, then they can change and adapt. The majority of the time, though, the circle will work.
That said, I think I’d also prefer the circle in my first classes. I don’t mind being in front of small crowds, but as this will be the first class I teach, I think I’ll be most at ease in a conversational circle, as opposed to the standard stand at podium or sit at desk routine. I might not use the circle the first day, but I will feel things out and at least use it during discussion periods.
Which brings me to another point: nothing has to be set in stone. Obviously, in some classes, such as math or science departments, the circle seems sort of inappropriate. Rules are hard and fast, and students will rarely sit and discuss philosophical differences. Therefore, the circle would not be as important. Our field is different, though. Discussion is important, almost all the time. It is inherent to writing and writing well. Therefore, the circle is key – at least some of the time.
Dealing with freshman, though, may prove to be challenging some of the time, if the atmosphere becomes too laid back or conversational. In high school, I was not the most well-behaved student, and would take full advantage of what I perceived as teachers’ weaknesses, especially when they would try to befriend the students. When I arrived to college, though, I came with the impression that professors and other college instructors were a completely different breed of teacher. Misbehaving, or at least trying to take advantage of the instructor’s good will, was out of the question, because of my preconceived notion of what this type of instructor was (plus, I was paying significantly more money to sit in this classroom). Had the atmosphere been completely open and free, I might have reverted, at least a little, eventually failed while trying to wallow in my own ridiculousness, traveled the railroad tracks as an old-timey hobo, and never had the opportunity to provide wisdom like this on a blog.
Also, I was thinking about the theories we study, and that they all seem valuable. At the same time, though, I seeing teaching writing as any other task: until we are thrown into the classroom, have to think on our feet, and actually guide a group of students, we won’t really know what to do.
This can be compared to many other facets of life, including very specific tasks. For example, one can read many, many theories on how to play the guitar, but until the instrument is actually held, they will not truly know how. I watch and listen to baseball games constantly, and hear about all kinds of techniques. I can tell someone how to throw a split-finger fastball, but am basically worthless at it, since I never go out and play baseball anymore (of course, I might be worthless at it still). The process of driving railroad spikes is easy to understand. Driving railroad spikes is not, and is learned exclusively on the job.
It also reminds me of writing itself. Students are discouraged from writing, if they think the emphasis will be on grammar, structure, spelling, and so on. So, they don’t write at all. The act of writing, simply writing, can be what sparks their ability. Similarly, while the theories are valuable, we must occasionally take a step back and remind ourselves that much or most of our learning will be “on the job.”
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