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hidden externalities: when failed states prioritize business over education

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Much has been discussed in the media about the impact of the COVID-19 pandemic; for example, to compensate for the absence of coordinated support, working mothers are carrying more caregiving responsibilities. However, the full range of externalities resulting from governmental and organizational decisions (or in the case of some governments, “non”-decisions which are decisions in practice) often are less visible during the pandemic.  Some of these externalities – impacts on health and well-being, careers and earnings, educational attainment, etc. – won’t be apparent until much later.  The most disadvantaged populations will likely bear the brunt of these; organizations charged with addressing equity issues, such as schools and universities, will grapple over how to respond to these in the years ahead.

In this blog post, I’ll discuss one under-discussed implication of what’s happening in NYC as an example, and how other organizations have had to adjust as a result.  Mayor DeBlasio has discussed how NYC public schools will close if NYC’s positivity rate averages 3% over 7 days.   At the same time, indoor dining, bars, and gyms have remained open, albeit in reduced capacity.  People, especially parents and experts, including medical professionals, are questioning this prioritization of business establishments over schools across the US.

Since the start of the 2020 school year, NYC public schools has offered limited in-person instruction.  A few informal conversations I’ve had with parents at NYC public schools revealed that they found the blended option an unviable one.  Due to capacity and staffing issues, a public school’s blended learning schedules could vary over the weeks.  For example, with a 1:2:2 schedule, a student has 1 day of in person school the first week, followed by 2 days in person the following week, then another 2 days in person the third week.  Moreover, which days a student can attend in-person school may not be the same across the weeks. This might partially explain why only a quarter of families have elected these.  Overall, both “options” of blended learning and online learning assume that families have flexibility and/or financial resources to pay for help.

What’s the cost of such arrangements?  People have already acknowledged that parents, and in particular, mothers, bear the brunt of managing at-home schooling while working from home.  But there is another hidden externality that several of my CUNY freshmen students who live with their families have shared with me.  While their parents work to pay rent and other expenses, some undergraduates must support their younger siblings’ online learning.  Other students are caregiving for relatives, such as a disabled parent, sometimes while recovering from illnesses themselves.  Undergraduates must coordinate other household responsibilities in between managing their own online college classes and additional paid work.  Without a physical university campus that they can go to for in-person classes (excluding labs and studio classes that are socially distanced) or as study spaces, students don’t have physical buffers that can insulate them against these unanticipated responsibilities and allow them to focus on their learning, interests, and connections. 

Drawing on the financial resources available to them and shaping plans around “stabilizing gambits,” several elite universities and small liberal arts colleges have sustained quality education for their students with their in-person classes, frequent testing, and sharing of information among dorm-dwellers.  But in the absence of any effective, coordinated federal response to the pandemic in the US, what can public university instructors do to ensure that their undergraduate students have a shot at quality learning experiences?  So far, I’ve assigned newly published texts that guide readers through how to more critically analyze systems. I’ve turned to having students documenting their experiences, in the hopes of applying what they have learned to re-design systems that work for more diverse populations.  I’ve tried to use synchronous classes as community-building sessions, coupled with feedback opportunities on how to channel our courses to meet their needs and interests.  I’ve devoted parts of class sessions to explaining how to navigate the university, including how to select majors and classes and connect with instructors.  I’ve connected research skills to interpreting the firehose of statistics and studies about pandemic, to help people ascertain risks so that they can make more informed decisions that protect themselves and their communities and educate others.  I’ve attempted to shift expectations for what learning can look like in the absence of face-to-face contact.  Since many of the relational dimensions that we took for granted in conventional face-to-face classes are now missing (i.e., visual cues, physical co-presence), I’ve encouraged people to be mutually supportive in other ways, like using the chat / comments function. In between grading and class prep, I’ve written letters of recommendation, usually on very short notice, so that CUNY students can tap needed emergency scholarships or pursue tenure-track jobs.  In the meantime, our CUNY programs have tried to enhance outreach as households experience illness and job loss, with emergency funds and campus food pantries mapping where students reside and sending mobile vans to deliver groceries, in an effort to mitigate food insecurity.  

Like other scholars, I’ve also revealed, in the virtual classroom, meetings, and conferences, how the gulf between work/family policies is an everyday, shared reality – something that should be acknowledged, rather than hidden away for performative reasons.  Eagle-eyed viewers are likely to periodically spot my child sitting by my side in a zoom meeting, assisting me by taking class attendance, or even typing on documents in the background.  My capacities to support undergraduate and graduate learning, as well as contribute to the academic commons by reviewing manuscripts and co-organizing academic conferences, have depended on my daughter attending her school in-person.  Faculty and staff at her school have implemented herculean practices to make face-to-face learning happen, and families have followed agreements about reducing risks outside of school to maintain in-person learning. That said, given current policy decisions, it’s just a matter of time when I will join other working parents and my CUNY undergraduates making a daily, hour-by-hour complex calculus of what can be done when all-age learners are at home.

All of these adjustments and experimental practices are just baby steps circumnavigating collective issues.  These liminal times can offer opportunities to rethink how we enact our supposed values in systems and institutions.  For instance, do we allow certain organizations and unresponsive elected leaders to continue to transfer externalities to those who are least prepared to bear them?  Do we charge individual organizations and dedicated members, with their disparate access to resources, to struggle with how to serve their populations’ needs?  Or, do we more closely examine how can we redesign systems to recognize and support more persons?

Written by katherinechen

November 18, 2020 at 5:42 pm

teaching resources on employee ownership – guest post by adria scharf

For those of you who are constructing courses or gathering materials for students or practitioners, please have a look at Adria Scharf’s guest post about a new online resource.  Adria Scharf  is the director of the Curriculum Library for Employee Ownership at Rutgers School of Management and Labor Relations.

“Teaching Resources on Employee Ownership

The Rutgers School of Management and Labor Relations houses a free online library of teaching resources about employee ownership with more than 600 teaching materials and links, including case studies, videos, policy reports, syllabi, and articles. Find the Curriculum Library for Employee Ownership (CLEO) site here: http://cleo.rutgers.edu.

 

RutgersCLEOScreen Shot 2020-08-07 at 5.33.04 PM

The library includes about 75 resources–such as journal articles, films, case studies, and policy reports–about worker cooperatives. It provides 90 links to company case studies–most of which were written for business school classrooms;  50 resources on “capitalism,” and more.

The site is designed to give instructors in business schools, sociology, labor studies, and other fields resources to teach about, and research, employee ownership. It conceives of employee ownership to include a wide range of organizational forms ranging from truly democratic worker cooperatives to more traditional public and private companies that share stock broadly with their employees.

From the CLEO home page, you can search by key word, title, or author name. Click on “Advanced Search” to filter your searches by multiple criteria. At the bottom of the home page, you can browse the database by search categories including Format, Discipline, Subject, Industry, World Region or Country, Company Name, and/or Publication Date.

RutgersCLEOsamplesearchScreen Shot 2020-08-07 at 5.34.53 PM

Also on the home page, click on “CLEO Collections” to find free downloadable case studies, recent videos and new policy reports.”

RutgersCLEOcollectionsScreen Shot 2020-08-07 at 5.36.17 PM

Written by katherinechen

August 10, 2020 at 3:19 pm

yes, even mediocre students deserve letters of recommendation

Yes, I believe that letters of recommendation are garbage. But if we continue to require letters, faculty have a moral obligation to write them. Why? Part of being an educator is to evaluate students for the public and as long as they subsidize us professors, we need to satisfy the external demand for assessment.

Sadly, many professors take an opposite view. Students often report that professors turn them down. That happened to me all the time in graduate school. Letters were a precious commodity reserved for the best students. That is simply wrong.  In a great post at Scatter, Older Woman explains why you should write letters for most students:

The combination of a high workload per student who needs references and claims that all letters should be excellent or not written at all leads many instructors to refuse to write letters for any but A students or students they know well.  But is this fair?

Her answer?

There are a lot of graduate and professional programs out there with widely varying degrees of selectivity. Virtually all of them require three letters of reference for an application to be complete. Getting those three letters is a nightmare for some students because they have trouble tracking down their past instructors and some they do track down refuse to write for them for reasons ranging from the student’s mediocrity to the instructor’s sabbatical or general busyness. I have had conversations in which I tell a student that the letter I could write for them would not be a very good letter and the student would say: I don’t care what it says, I just need three letters. I’ve also talked to honors students who have done independent projects and have one or two excellent letters nailed down who are still desperately shopping for somebody, anybody, to write their third letter, because no matter how good the first two letters are, the application will not be complete without the third.

My view is that all of us who are regular faculty (either tenure track or non-contingent adjuncts) should treat writing letters of reference as an often-annoying but important part of our job. These letters should be honest, and we certainly owe it to the student to tell them honestly if the letter we would be able to write would be tepid or contain negative information that would not help them. We also owe it to the student to ask them about their plans, about their perceptions of the selectivity of the program they are applying to, and whether they have done their homework in selecting a program that fits their qualifications. But if the student feels they want or need the letter anyway after this disclosure and discussion, we should write the letter.

Correct! Basically, letters are not the special property of A students. Many graduate programs simply want to know that the person did decently. Instructors are not required to write special letters for everyone. Most students just want a few sentences explaining that they showed up and did relatively decently. In fact, I think it is totally ok to write one form letter for decent, but not great, students that you can customize as you see fit. It is a requirement for large, public institutions.

Heck, you can even write short and honest letters for crummy students. A real example: In my first year teaching, a dude name Jiffy* asked me for a letter. He was a really weak student. C in intro sociology and seemed spaced out. I said, “sure, but the letter will reflect your current grade – C.” He said that was totally ok. All he wanted was a study abroad letter and all it needed to say was that he attended class and was passing. And so I wrote that letter. All I wrote was a paragraph saying that he showed up to class and would answer questions if called upon. That’s it.

I never did hear back from Jiffy but I Googled him a year ago. He’s now a successful dentist. And you know what, if I helped some dentist enjoy a semester abroad, that’s not a bad thing.

Bottom line: Quit your whining and write that letter. If you don’t think it is part of the job, get another job.

50+ chapters of grad skool advice goodness: Grad Skool Rulz ($4.44 – cheap!!!!)/Theory for the Working Sociologist (discount code: ROJAS – 30% off!!)/From Black Power/Party in the Street / Read Contexts Magazine– It’s Awesome!

*Not a real name.

Written by fabiorojas

November 16, 2017 at 5:08 am

Posted in academia, fabio, teaching

Teaching/research/learning opportunity available in Lebanon

Paul Galatowitsch has an announcement for organizational researchers who are looking to integrate their summer/winter break with teaching, research, and/or learning in Lebanon.

This might be of particular interest those with experience or seeking experience with NGOs, health systems, and refugees:

www.socioanalytics.org and the Short Course in Lebanon is up and ready.  I would really like to get some Organizational Sociologists on board…. It’s a great research and service opportunity.

 

Written by katherinechen

October 10, 2017 at 7:38 pm

global resistance in the neoliberal university

intlconf
Those of you who are interested in fending off growing neoliberalism in the university might be interested in the following international  line-up at CUNY’s union, PSC.
You can watch a livestream of the conference via fb starting tonight, Fri., March 3, 6-9pm and Sat., March 4, 9:30am-6pm EST:
…an international conference on Global Resistance in the Neoliberal University organized by the union will be held today and tomorrow, 3/3rd-4th at the PSC, 61 Broadway.  
 
Scholars, activists and students from Mexico, South Africa, Turkey, Greece, India and the US will lead discussions on perspectives, strategies and tactics of resisting the neoliberal offensive in general, and in the context of the university in particular.
 
You can visit this site for a link to the conference program:
 
Due to space constraints, conference registration is now closed. But we’re thrilled by the tremendous interest in the event! You can watch a livestream of the conference here: https://www.facebook.com/PSC.CUNY.  If you follow us on our Facebook page, you will receive a notification reminding you to watch.  
 
We look forward to seeing some of you tonight and to discussing the conference with many of you in the near future. 
 

 

 

Written by katherinechen

March 3, 2017 at 11:29 pm

surviving academic affluenza/midlife-crisis

Academia is an iron person sport – the marathon to the dissertation,  the quest for a tenure-track position, and the trek to tenure.  What happens after tenure and promotion?

In this podcast, Elizabeth Matsui (a professor and practicing doctor), Roger Peng (professor of biostats), and Brian Caffo, a recently promoted full professor in biostats, discuss the timeline of an academic career, including those on soft money.  Using a disease analogy (i.e., do you suffer from full professoritis?), they discuss various outlets where the tenured can channel efforts following the post-tenure malaise.  They outline possible routes: “staying the course,” mastering a new field, or taking on additional, different roles as an administrator, empire-builder, public scholar, editor, teacher/mentor, and consultant.  Around the 40: minute mark, Matsui raises the issue of familial responsibilities.

Elsewhere, in an article titled “Midcareer Melancholy,” sociologists Joya Misra and Jennifer Lundquist point out the structural conditions that make associate professorship feel especially soul-crushing to those who had imagined a euphoric, happily ever after post-tenure and promotion.  As they describe the academic profession, assistant professors are protected from service work while some full professors shirk it.  These generate overwork among associate professors, whose ranks have been decimated by the adjunctification of the academy and the depletion of tenure-track lines.  Associate professors are acutely aware of how much of their daily work is neither valued nor counted towards their bid to advance to the next step of full:

Associate professors may be frustrated by the immediate demands of service work that materialize upon earning tenure when it is almost exclusively their scholarship that earns them promotion in the long run.

On our campus, we heard these sentiments repeatedly: “There’s a contradiction between the pressure for service at the associate level and the devaluing of service for promotion to full”; “In reality, only research matters when it comes to… promotion, but service and teaching require lots of time”; “The criteria for promotion is research. Associate professors have time for everything but research.” Another referred to associate professorship as “the midcareer service gully that we find ourselves taking an extended stay in.”

Misra and Lundquist offer the following adjustments to address the midcareer malaise:

  1. Clear guidelines for promotion that align with the institution’s mission. Tenure criteria are often less ambiguous than those for promotion to full professor. A few research institutions have identified alternative pathways to promotion in the form of exceptional service leadership or scholarly teaching.
  2. Mutual mentoring programs and supports such as those developed by the National Center for Faculty Development and Diversity that help faculty members focus their work time on the factors that will be evaluated, such as research productivity.
  3. Strategies aimed at lessening service burdens on faculty, such as: more tenure-line faculty hiring, recognizing that relying on adjuncts damages the university broadly, as well as adjunct faculty; course releases for intensive service positions to ensure that they do not derail research agendas; more staff hiring that supports faculty leadership.
  4. Greater departmental transparency in service assignments and teaching loads to reduce inequalities in how less-valued activities are distributed.
  5. Professional development for midcareer faculty on how to run meetings and complete committee work without reinventing the wheel.
  6. Standardized policies that regularly assess promotion timing rather than forcing candidates to self-nominate or wait to be nominated by a superior.

 

 

Written by katherinechen

January 18, 2017 at 5:13 pm

class and life chances

To help my students understand the impact of race and class upon life chances, I show excerpts from the People Like Us documentary.  Of the clips that I usually show, the one that has grabbed my students’ attention the most is the story of Tammy Crabtree and her two sons living in Ohio.  Viewers of the documentary may remember that Tammy walked several miles to reach her workplace, a minimum wage job at Burger King, and that her teenage son Matt voiced both shame about his family’s trailer-home poverty and his high hopes about his future.

Today, when answering an email inquiry by a school teacher about how to teach difficult issues to his students, I stumbled upon a recent update to Tammy and her family’s story.  Tammy is still working at Burger King, although she has a shorter commute than before – a 20 minute walk from her house.  Matt did not finish high school or attend college, contrary to what he had envisioned for himself, so that he could work to support his own child.  Now, he exhibits greater compassion about his mother’s circumstances, showing a degree of introspection that most may not realize until very late in life.  Both he and his brother emphasize family as a priority, as does Tammy.

Have a look at the family back in the late 1990s and now:

 

 

Written by katherinechen

February 12, 2016 at 8:29 pm

teaching without a safety net

A public speaking coach once told me to dispense with visual aids. They are a crutch. They are distracting. They disrupt the flow of your talk. For a while, I was able to follow his advice. Then, with the era of power points, I stopped. My students resented lectures without power points. I brought power points into class. I got worse as a speaker.

Recently, I have tried to implement the advice and reduce distracting visual aids. What I learned is that students wanted notes and summaries. The power point presentation fulfilled that function. They printed power point slides out and wrote on them. But they didn’t seem to want or need visuals during class. They were still perfectly capable of following lectures.

My current mode of operation is that I provide outlines/notes/power point slides but the class itself is just me talking and directing class discussion without notes. Occasionally, I’ll pick up the paper to make sure I hit major points. Otherwise, it is a wild free-soc improv jam session. And it works. I can monitor class, have off the cuff discussions, and drum up the audience. Since the class has a loose structure, people are more relaxed and we can speed up or slow down as needed.

But there is a deeper lesson, aside from just being more relaxed. By forcing myself to essentially memorize all these readings and then explain, from scratch, how they are connected, I can actually see the connections more clearly. For example, I teach social theory for upper division students from Lemert’s text. The book is one of those anthologies that mixes actual sociology with a bunch of “hip” readings from the humanities that touch on social behavior. So for a lot of the readings on race and gender, I always thought they were disconnected. But by re-explicating, I realized that there are lots of common themes. One is that a lot of the “humanities” style readings are actually about claiming intellectual space for women and minority intellectuals and using that position to generate social change. Though it is not mentioned in the critical essays in the readings, it comes out when you have do in-class close readings. Franz Fanon raises the issue, Patricia Collins nails it, and then Gayatri Spivak mucks it up again. I don’t think I’d be able to see that chain of thought had I just relied on the power points I wrote three years ago. It only comes out when you read, in class, passages and directly compare them.

This is the lesson I have for you. If possible, “go free” but not wild. Loosen up, read closely, have fun. And see the connections.

50+ chapters of grad skool advice goodness: Grad Skool Rulz ($2!!!!)/From Black Power/Party in the Street

Written by fabiorojas

November 11, 2015 at 12:01 am

the gap between students, professors, and policy wonks

This was going to be a post about How College Works, a recent book by Dan Chambliss and Chris Takacs. Every couple of years I teach a senior seminar on higher education, and this time around we started with Chambliss & Takacs.

I’d still like to write that post. I liked the book quite a lot, and it was a big hit with the students. But right now I want to emphasize something teaching this class often reminds me of, and which was even more apparent as we made our way through How College Works. The gap between why students attend college and what they think they get out of it, and how academics and policy wonks think about the purpose of college and how to improve the institution, is huge.

The higher ed policy world has been buzzing lately. First there was a big new paper that used tax data to provide some of the best evidence to date on who is defaulting on student loans. (Short answer: students who attend for-profits, and, secondarily, community college students, who traditionally did not borrow but have started to in the last decade.)

Right after that came the new federal College Scorecard, which similarly uses tax data to provide, for the first time, some information about student incomes after college relative to net price and money borrowed at specific schools.

All this generated lots of chatter among the media, policy types, and academics obsessed with such things. I would have contributed myself, had the start of the semester not whacked me upside the head (and, briefly, off the internet).

But as all this was coming out, I was just coming off an intense conversation with my class of seniors about what they had gotten out of their four years of college. For context, these are sociology majors, almost all from NY state, a large majority residential and of traditional college age, about 40% first generation, half Black and Latino, at a school of middling selectivity. So perhaps not the most career-obsessed (they *are* sociology majors), but also not collectively so privileged as to be able to ignore the financial realities of life after graduation.

What they talked about was personal development. They learned who they are. To manage themselves. To prioritize and juggle competing obligations. To evaluate the character of others. To be confident in themselves and their ability to handle new situations. To get along with others who are different from them. They made what they expect to be lifelong friends. Academics barely came up. Neither did future income. They are very aware that “life out there” is drawing near as they head toward graduation, and they do wish college had done a better job of helping them think about how to transition to the world of work. But the reason they go to college, and what they think they got out of it, is primarily personal and social.

This conversation, which took place before we read How College Works, anticipated many of the themes in the book. Chambliss and Takacs’s book is, first and foremost, student-centered, and it emphasizes how college works for students. That means that even though academics are a significant piece of the puzzle, much of the benefit as students see it comes elsewhere—in their typology, not just in skills they gain, but in confidence developed and in relationships made. I think this is part of why the book resonated so much with students, who wished they had read it in high school, or at least as freshmen.

How distant this seems from the policy conversation about higher ed, which is increasingly focused on post-college income—the thing that can be measured, and thus the only thing that matters. Surely no one wants to argue that it is fine for students to graduate with a mound of debt and a job that pays less than a living wage. And the “college experience” that most of my students have had to some degree—at least partly residential, surrounded by others of one’s age cohort—and which is central to what they feel they’ve gained, is not in fact the typical college experience. And, of course, they’re young. They’ll probably pay more attention to the economic value of their degree as they finish school and start looking for full-time jobs, and maybe they’ll think differently about the cost of college when they’re paying more taxes.

But I can’t help but think that a national conversation that focuses so heavily on college as a gateway to a high-paying job, and ignores what traditional college students think they get out of college, is really wrong-headed. Maybe it’s ridiculously expensive to give everyone a four-year residential college experience. Maybe it’s dumb that students are willing to go into debt so they can have that experience. Perhaps it’s a consumption good that they should be paying for themselves, and we shouldn’t be collectively subsidizing it. But for my students, and the Hamilton College students of How College Works—different in so many ways from my own—none of this matters. They are getting something valuable out of college. It’s just not what policy makers think.

Written by epopp

September 25, 2015 at 3:06 pm

teaching, tenure, and academic freedom

As events continue to unfold in Wisconsin, defenses of tenure are popping up in various places. For the most part, these are focused on how weakening tenure would 1) limit academic freedom, 2) drive faculty to other universities, and 3) subject them to political reprisals.

These are all true. One only has to think about climate research, or UNC’s Poverty Center, to realize that the threat to academic freedom is very real.

What is less clear is why the public should care. Sure, some will. But lots of people believe climate science is corrupt, and that centers like UNC’s are inappropriately political. Any good defense of the public university—of tenure within it or support for it more generally—has to appeal to a broad swath of people.

I suggested the other day that the business community cares about science, and that that is one potential source of support for higher ed, at least, if not necessarily for tenure. But what the average American cares about most with regard to universities is not science, but teaching.

And here…crickets.

Clay Shirky argued at Crooked Timber that in fact professors don’t do very much teaching, and when the public learns this they will revolt. I think he sees the world too much through the lens of NYU, and that if you look at the higher ed field as a whole, there is lots of teaching going on, including by tenure-track faculty.

But where he is right is that what most people outside higher ed care about is not research, but teaching. Fortunately, there are strong arguments to be made that link tenure and teaching quality. For example, Mikaila pointed out in the comments that

performance funding initiatives which emphasize on-time graduation rates would tend to encourage a decrease in academic rigor so that students make adequate academic progress and do not fail or withdraw from courses–something we could easily achieve by giving our students open-book fill-in-the-blank tests with As for all. It is tenure which protects us from such a demand and thus tenure that gives us the best chance of ensuring that students have the opportunity to receive a high-quality, rigorous education that challenges them and helps them learn and develop the skills which will benefit them economically, socially, culturally, and personally for the rest of their lives.

These are the kinds of arguments that are likely to have traction. Not that tenure is good for professors, or things like academic freedom that a minority of people care about. But tenure is good for students.

The flip side of that is that we can’t profess that tenure helps students and then denigrate or simply neglect teaching. Nor can we go along with “I won’t grade you too hard as long as you don’t demand too much.” Nor is this position compatible with allowing the system to continue to survive on contingent labor.

I’m still working out what the ethical thing to do is as someone who is (as we all are, in one way or another) caught up in this system. One thing I’m pretty sure about, though: appealing to faculty self-interest is not a winning strategy for gaining public support.

Written by epopp

June 11, 2015 at 8:15 am

learning how to teach – are you a North Korea, Japan, Madagascar, or the US?

Do you teach like I govern Madagascar?

Is this your teaching style?

One of the most time-consuming (but big-impact*) responsibilities of an academic is teaching.  However, graduate school training for teaching can vary.  At some institutions, an academic-in-training may teach his/her own course right away.  This trial by fire approach can be all-consuming for the first course preps.

At other institutions, an academic-in-training can closely observe experienced instructors and learn tricks of the trade as a teaching assistant.  Serving as a (in Ivy Tower-speak) teaching fellow for a large, popular intro to sociology class, I learned how colleague David J. Frank introduced groupwork, cold-called names, and demonstrated how to apply various theoretical perspectives using a game he called “Stump the Professor.”  Under the mentorship of Peter V. Marsden, I learned how to grade.  Both of us scored papers independently and then compared our scores for inter-rater reliability; we then reconciled the few disparate scores after a discussion.  From Richard J. Hackman, I learned how to use stories (and humor) to illustrate phenomena, as well as how to refine lesson plans and exercises.

As a professor, I still observe colleagues’ teaching, which has introduced me to techniques for teaching student teams.  Meetings and conversations with colleagues are also opportunities to trade tips and troubleshoot scenarios.

Over the years, I’ve also read various books on teaching and followed discussion threads on teaching at the CHE forum.  A few weeks ago, I read Dan Spalding‘s recently published second edition How to Teach Adults (creative commons licensed e-book version here, yay!).  His book is an excellent guidebook to teaching, covering the gamut of how to construct lesson plans, how to deal with difficult behaviors in the classroom, and how to set up a professional identity as an educator.  Drawing on his experiences teaching English as another language to immigrants, Spalding offers handy checklists and tips that can improve the teaching experience for novice and master instructors alike.  For instance, the book discusses the concept of student comfort zones, and the author provides a handy metaphor for how students must “exercise” outside of class for the fullest benefit of education.

Spalding’s approach is thoughtfully provocative.  To wit, he compares teaching styles with governance:

Below is a list of countries and the different types of teaching they correspond
with. Which is yours?*

North Korea: A tyrannical regime led by a distant autocrat.
Classroom: A teacher who ruthlessly enforces arbitrary rules.
Japan: A corrupt democracy where most citizens still enjoy a good standard
of living.
Classroom: A bad teacher who gives everyone an ‘A.’

Madagascar: A weak state where the people live mostly independent from
the government.
Classroom: A teacher who gives suggestions to students who are free to
take or leave them.

United States: A nominal democracy where corporate interests hold almost
all power.
Classroom: A teacher who insists they listen to students but ends up doing
whatever the administration says.

*Hopefully, your class is like none of these countries!

In his final chapter, Spalding raises the larger context of the corporatization of education.  He also discusses alienation amongst students and instructors and how institutions train for certain dispositions,** followed by the call to consider the transformative possibilities of teaching.

In short, Spalding’s book systematically shares the nuts and bolts of teaching while including a critical perspective of the vocation and its associated institutions.  An insightful, must-read for educators!

*  See Fligstein’s comment about educating the public.

** Marx/Weber/your favorite theorists are sometimes not credited by the author but are recognizable.

 

Written by katherinechen

May 18, 2015 at 1:22 pm

Posted in academia, education, teaching

Tagged with

sexy orgtheory

Next week, we’ll discuss sex and sociology. Here are the topics:

  • Why sex is important for sociologists to study
  • My experience teaching social science research on sex
  • Lessons from Laumann et al. (1994)
  • Professional lessons from my first article on networks and STD’s
  • The unexpected literature that sprung up from that article

If you want to discuss other topics, mention them in the comments and we’ll work it in.

50+ chapters of grad skool advice goodness: Grad Skool Rulz ($2!!!!)/From Black Power/Party in the Street!!

Written by fabiorojas

April 17, 2015 at 12:05 am