Gas station without pumps

2014 November 17

Santa Cruz Shakespeare’s 2015 season

Filed under: Uncategorized — gasstationwithoutpumps @ 20:22
Tags: ,

Santa Cruz Shakespeare  has just announced their 2015 season:

Get your picnic baskets ready! Our 2015 Season proves to be…

Wickedly Romantic

featuring Mike Ryan’s favorite comedy Much Ado About Nothing

Wickedly Funny

featuring David Ives’ cheeky adaptation of Pierre Corneille’s The Liar

Wickedly Powerful

featuring Macbeth, Shakespeare’s haunting tale of ambition

Join us starting June 30, 2015 for a season of romance, ambition, heartbreak, and seduction. Tickets go on sale in April 2015, or you can become a member and get access to advance tickets and discounts. We look forward to seeing you in the Glen. Play on!

http://www.santacruzshakespeare.org/

Santa Cruz Shakespeare | 500 Chestnut St, Ste 250 | Santa Cruz, CA 95060 | (831) 460-6396

I’ll be getting season tickets soon after they go on sale.

2014 November 16

Good enough for what?

Filed under: Uncategorized — gasstationwithoutpumps @ 11:05
Tags: , ,

A blog post by Nick Falkner, Thoughts on the colonising effect of education, ended with the

I had a discussion once with a remote colleague who said that he was worried the graduates of his own institution weren’t his first choice to supervise for PhDs as they weren’t good enough. I wonder whose fault he thought that was?

Nick’s implied message was that it was the duty of the professors to make the undergrads they taught be good enough to go on for PhDs.  But I’m not sure he’s right here.

We do not need huge numbers of new PhDs—some, but not nearly as many as are being graduated from BS programs. Only about 10% of undergrads (or less) should be going on for PhDs, so the majority of graduates from any institution should not be “first choice to supervise for PhDs”. We should be bringing up as PhDs those most likely to be productive researchers and university faculty, and encouraging other students to find productive lives outside of academia (there is a world outside academia, though many professors prefer to ignore it).

If most of the undergrads graduating are top candidates for PhD programs, then perhaps the criteria for PhD candidates are wrong—or the undergraduate program is too small and selective, so that students who would benefit from it are being excluded.

I’m an engineering professor, and in most engineering fields the working degrees are the BS and the MS—the PhD is reserved for cutting-edge research that is not expected to result in products any time soon and for university teaching. I would consider myself a failure as an engineering professor if none of my students went on to become working engineers, but all went into academia.

I expect many of the best students not to be well-suited for PhD degrees—they want to go out into the real world and solve real problems (sometimes to make money, sometimes to save the world, sometimes just for the joy of solving problems).  The best PhD candidates are often not the best engineering students, because a PhD candidate has to be willing to work on an esoteric problem for a really long time with no promise of success, while good engineering often calls for quick prototyping and rapid development, dropping unproductive projects quickly, before they cost too much—not long-term projects that may never pay off.

So, while I certainly want some of my undergrad students to go into academia and to be top choices for PhD programs, I’m happy if most of them are not suited for PhDs, as long as they have acquired an engineer’s problem-solving mindset, enough skills to get them started in a job, and a lifelong habit of picking up new knowledge and skills.

2014 November 12

Autodidacts (against and for)

Filed under: Uncategorized — gasstationwithoutpumps @ 22:05
Tags: , , , ,

Lately I’ve seen a lot of blog posts talking about autodidacts (people who learn things without teachers) as if they were some strange breed of alien being. For example, there is the post Ed tech promoters need to understand how most of us learn | The Hechinger Report, which includes the following paragraphs:

This is a very particular take on learning: the autodidact’s take. We shouldn’t mistake it for most people’s reality. Productive learning without guidance and support from others is rare. A pair of eminent researchers has gone so far as to call the very notion of self-directed learning “an urban legend in education.”

In a paper published in Educational Psychologist last year, Paul A. Kirschner of the Open University of the Netherlands and Jeroen J.G. van Merriënboer of Maastricht University challenge the popular assumption “that it is the learner who knows best and that she or he should be the controlling force in her or his learning.”

There are three problems with this premise, Kirschner and van Merriënboer write. The first is that novices, by definition, don’t yet know much about the subject they’re learning, and so are ill equipped to make effective choices about what and how to learn next. The second problem is that learners “often choose what they prefer, but what they prefer is not always what is best for them;” that is, they practice tasks that they enjoy or are already proficient at, instead of tackling the more difficult tasks that would actually enhance their expertise. And third, although learners like having some options, unlimited choices quickly become frustrating—as well as mentally taxing, constraining the very learning such freedom was supposed to liberate.

And yet, to paraphrase the economist Larry Summers: There are autodidacts. Look around. We all know at least one successfully self-taught expert, and the tech world is teeming with them. How’d they get that way?

While I do see a benefit to teaching (or I wouldn’t spend so much of my time teaching), I don’t think that the autodidacticism should be dismissed as “an urban legend in education”. In fact, the end goal of all my teaching is to turn out students who can continue to learn on their own, without needing the continuing crutch of having a teacher lead them. I’m not sure how successful I’ve been in a lot of cases—I see students for a 10-week class and then they disappear, giving me no clue whether they have developed new ways of learning that stay with them or they have just managed to fake it through my course and relapsed to expecting to be spoonfed immediately afterwards.

I think that Annie Murphy Paul has it wrong when she claims that few people can be autodidacts—she seems to be assuming that it is some sort of innate gift that one is born with (Carol Dweck’s hated “fixed mindset”). I am convinced that becoming an autodidact is something that most people are capable of. I recently read an account of one student who turned herself into an autodidact, and what prompted her to do it—How to become a programmer, or the art of Googling well | okepi:

He was the very picture of the competent hacker I held in my head, that I nursed a secret crush for. But most extraordinary, he threw something together using tools that he’d never used before. Yes, he did spend more time on Google than he did coding, but through sheer force of googling and a prior, general picture knowledge of how these things worked, he’d roped together a pretty sophisticated and working app. He knew where Twilio belonged in the grand hierarchy of things, knew exactly where to apply it, and so, even without knowledge prior, was able to figure things out.

And I despaired. How do you get so good that you can build something out of nothing?

The rest of the semester passed glumly, and without incident. Come winter, I began to panic again. Driven by the need to become employable, I tried my hand at a couple Code Academy website tutorials. Hm. Not bad. I made an attempt at my first website—pretty terrible, just one, static page full of boxes and awful colors, but it was something. Something I realized. Just like my code-god compatriot, when I didn’t understand something, all I needed to do … was google it.

To a large extent, the difference between the autodidact and the ordinary student is not one of competence, but of confidence. It is Carol Dweck’s “growth mindset”—the conviction that you can learn the material and are not doomed forever to learn only what someone predigests for you.  There are tremendous resources now available to everyone that can turn them into autodidacts: Wikipedia, for example, has thousands of excellent articles in all sorts of sciences (and the science articles suffer much less from point-of-view problems and vandalism than pop culture articles).  And, as “okepi” says, Google can find all sorts of answers for you (she goes on to much larger accomplishments later in her post).

I learn a lot of stuff on my own by reading Wikipedia articles, reading survey articles, reading research papers, googling stuff in StackExchange, going to weekly research seminars, even (sometimes) taking classes.  [The astute reader will have noticed that I did not include MOOCs or videos in that list—despite the claim that MOOCs are a godsend for autodidacts, I have found them profoundly unmotivating, and videos as a learning tool are just too bloody slow for my taste—I fall asleep before anything has been conveyed.]

There are some things for which teachers are essential—it is very hard to learn a foreign language well on your own, without a native (or near-native) speaker to help you hear the differences between what you say and how a native speaker would say it.  Theater is hard to do on your own (though a group of autodidacts could get together to learn to act).  Feedback on writing is very valuable, as is having an audience for public speaking. And there are times when it is useful to have the structure of a scheduled course to help with time management—to keep you on task to meet an external deadline when there are dozens of other things to do. But in a lot of cases, a textbook is all the structure that is needed, or an on-line tutorial document, or even just a particular problem that needs to be solved shaping what needs to be learned.  I learned those skills decades ago, and I think that my son learned them well by the time he was halfway through high school.

So I know how to be an autodidact, but how do I teach it to others?  That is a question I have no easy answers for. I try giving open-ended assignments, I try scaffolding by having students search for answers to specific questions, I try deliberately leaving material out of a lecture or a lab handout and telling students to go read about it in Wikipedia, and I try whatever else I can think of that will get students to learn on their own.  For some students something clicks, and they start doing more learning on their own—sometimes a lot more. For others, I’ve not found a secret sauce.

I particularly despair of those students who take copious notes in class and want to record my lectures (I have two of them this quarter)—they seem to have developed the attitude that I am the sole source of knowledge, and that if they just cram everything I say into their memories, they’re golden. But I’m not interested in hearing my words echo back to me—if I wanted that, I’d lecture to an empty classroom.  I’d much rather the students wrote down two or three keywords from my lecture, so that they could find what others had to say on the topic using Google and Wikipedia—or even looked up the topics I’m covering in the textbook (which does have an index). I’d rather that they thought about how to derive the algorithms we are learning in class, rather than trying to memorize what are really fairly arbitrary recursive definitions (and ones that are more easily derived than memorized).

Does anyone have any good techniques for converting note-takers into autodidacts?  Those are the techniques I need to learn (and I didn’t really see anything in Teach like a Champion that would help).

 

2014 November 3

Advising too many students

Filed under: Uncategorized — gasstationwithoutpumps @ 21:39
Tags: ,

I’m advising between 300 and 400 students this year, plus teaching two classes each quarter, meeting with 3 grad students, and being department vice chair. This makes my week a busy one—I don’t get any convenient large blocks of time for doing research, and  I probably spend about 6 hours a week in one-on-one meetings with undergraduates.

Because I have to meet with students a lot, and I have a lot of scheduled classes and meetings, I need to keep an appointment calendar. But I’m not willing to have students signing up on it directly—no one gets to put things on my calendar except me.

I’ve set up two open office hours a week, for which students can reserve a place in line by e-mail, or just show up and wait until those with reservations have all been served. I stay until all the students have had their time with me (I made the hours 4–5pm), which means I’m usually doing 4 hours a week, not 2, but I can leave as early as 5pm if there is no one waiting (which has happened, but not often).

I also allow students to make appointments at other times—but they have to send me their schedules, and I look for an opening on my calendar. Because some openings are more valuable to me than others, I try to give them a slot that will fit their openings but minimize disruption to my day (an optimization that never happens if others put appointments on my schedule). I never give the students multiple options when they are asking for times outside my allocated office hours. They tell me when they are available, and I ask them to come in the first of those slots that fits my schedule. If they don’t come then, I mark them on my calendar as a no-show, and wait for them to reschedule (but I’m less generous about giving up prime slots to no-shows).

Why do I have so many advisees this year? Simple: the bioengineering major has been growing rather rapidly recently, which has converted a reasonable load into an unmanageable one. Also we completely revamped the curriculum last year, so that it is effectively 4 different majors, with only about 30% overlap in courses. That means that there are 7 different curricula students could be following (the 3 old concentrations or the 4 new ones), and considerable confusion on the part of students about what their options are—they hear something about the new curriculum and assume it applies to the old one, or vice versa.

There is a staff adviser whom students are supposed to see before coming to me (the bioengineering advising is a full-time job for her), but I have to handle all the exceptions and all the “what-elective-should-I-take” questions.  I also have to sign the independent study requests and approve the senior thesis proposals. I like reading the thesis proposals and talking to students about what courses can help them learn what they want or need to learn—that is the rewarding part of the undergraduate director job.

One of the most useful questions I ask students is “what do you plan to do with your degree once you get it?” Somewhat surprisingly, many of them have never been asked that and never thought about it—they are so focused on the B.S. as a goal that they’ve never realized that the B.S. is not a goal: it is a means to an end, a stepping stone. Where they intend to go after that should be determining what electives they take, what concentration they choose, even what major they choose. My job is help guide them on their path, but if they don’t know where they’re going, I can’t help them get there.

Not all my interactions with students are that much fun, though. Just before the add/drop deadline and just before the declaration of major deadline, I get all the students who were too disorganized to do things in a timely fashion, who are also often those who’ve made a hash of scheduling their courses and are looking for exceptions so that they can graduate despite having missed some requirement that they should have fulfilled years ago. Dealing with these students is often a major pain—particularly since they are so late in making their requests that they often expect me to drop everything else so that they can make their deadlines.  Sorry, kids, a failure to plan on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part.  I’ll deal with them fairly and do what I reasonably can to help, but I’m not going to say “there, there, you don’t really have to take that tough course that you’ve been avoiding for so long that your financial aid has run out”.  Luckily, I don’t have the power to waive prerequisites—I can honestly tell the students that they have to convince the instructor to give them an add code, as only the instructor can waive the prereqs.

I avoid some of the problems with handling so many advisees by sending out e-mail to the entire list of majors and premajors occasionally, when something comes up that I think will be a common question or that may students would benefit from hearing. I also handle a lot of routine questions and approvals by e-mail.

Based on the load last year and this quarter, I can tell that I’ll be inundated in the spring quarter, when all the sophomores will have to declare their majors. My teaching load will be a lot heavier then also, as one of my two classes will have 6 or 12 hours of lab time a week (depending how many students will be taking it), with no TA. So I’ll need help. I’m going to try to get some other faculty to start advising in a couple of the concentrations, so that the load can be spread a bit.  I’ll still end up with the thesis proposals and the exceptions, but some of the major declaration and guidance for elective choosing can be done by others.

Update 2014 Nov 7: This week, I have gotten three other faculty to agreed to serve as faculty advisers for the students in Assistive Technology concentrations (the smallest part of the workload).  I will be looking to get some faculty advisers for the biomolecular concentration (the largest part of the workload).

« Previous Page

%d bloggers like this: