Monday, March 29, 2010

Teaching Journal (7): Going outside the curriculum

It’s easier to identify and address the needs of students who are struggling in the class than to be attentive to those of students who excel. Whether it’s giving feedback on assignments or expanding critical thinking through class discussions, guiding and challenging students at levels A- and below seem to be more obvious. But what about the A to A+ students? How to challenge them?


I have about five students in my class who operate at the level of MA students in terms of sophistication in thought and in writing. I felt that I can do more for them than just give them good grades and write encouraging comments on their papers.


Luckily for me, my graduate department is currently organizing a conference that is open to undergraduate students. I announced the call for papers in class and then approached the five students individually by email to encourage them to apply, suggesting that they modify their final essay proposal (which they submitted earlier in the week) into a 150-word abstract. When their abstracts are accepted, they can present their final paper (12-15 pages, a good length for a 15 minute presentation with some revision) at the actual conference.


One student declined because he is unable to attend the conference in June but appreciated my encouragement, that it is “an award in itself.” (Same student spoke a lot in class today, though he is normally shy. I wonder if it’s because he felt encouraged by my invitation to apply for the conference?) Four responded that they will apply and I helped three of them over the weekend to modify their proposals into abstracts.


I also explained to the four what to expect at a graduate conference, providing a detailed outline of who speaks when and how the discussion and Q&A period works. I had to remember what it was like being an undergraduate, not knowing what to expect and feeling insecure and intimidated at the prospect of presenting in front of a group of graduate students. I can’t attend the conference, which is unfortunate since I won’t be able to provide them with moral support and “protect” them if they face hostility in the Q&A period. But I plan to ask some of my peers to “look after them” in my place.


The abstract submission was indeed a challenge for these students. Even the student who has excelled in every aspect of the course so far expressed feelings of uncertainty and insecurity. So this whole process is not part of the curriculum at all. It’s definitely “extra” curricular work that’s not part of my job description. But it’s immensely satisfying for me to know that I’ve provided these students with meaningful and (hopefully) exciting challenges that they otherwise would not find in their regular undergraduate program. And it really was minimal work. I just had to email them and to read and edit three 150-word abstracts. With such little initiative and creativity I get such a sweet reward.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Teaching Journal (6): Plagiarism

I had my first plagiarism case of my career. I had assigned concept papers for my class, which are basically key-term papers in which students are to paraphrase an author(s)’s major concept in their own words without writing a reflection or using direct quotations from the author. I knew it would be a difficult assignment and some students struggled more than others. A few were extremely successful.


I was grading the second batch of these papers when I came across one paper with a flawless introduction. I was very impressed then moved onto the next paragraph, only to discover that the style and tone were significantly different from those of the introduction. It was as though two different people wrote the two paragraphs. Out of curiosity, I Googled the introduction and found, to my dismay, that the words were taken directly from the author’s abstract in the journal publication that preceded its appearance in the edited volume that I assigned for the class. He had changed a few words here and there but the structure was exactly the sam. Now that I discovered the plagiarism, I had to do something about it...


Luckily, I had attended an academic honesty workshop last year, conducted by a faculty member in our department. I knew from this workshop that there is a process in place that doesn’t jump to punishment and discipline. First, there is a warning; second, there is penalty for the assignment. Each step increases in severity until it reaches expulsion, I believe. I contact the student about the incident, careful to avoid using the word plagiarism, and requested a meeting at my office to which the student responded quickly. I found the form, after doing some searching on the web, at an office I can’t recall right now (in Maggie Benston Centre) and prepared my documents before meeting with the student. I didn’t know what to expect. For all I knew, he may be defensive or angry...


When the student walked in, I knew from his expression that he was terrified. I calmed him down by asking how he was, how his midterm went earlier in the day. I brought out the paper and explained how I discovered that he used the words of the author without citation. I then asked him to tell me his story. He explained that he found the assignment difficult and he researched the paper and came across the author’s abstract. Since he wasn’t allowed to use quotations, he took parts of the abstract and changed some words, thinking that it is allowed. He simply didn’t know the “rules”.


I suspect that at moments like these, an instructor is left to either believe the story or disregard it as a lie with differing consequences in the disciplining process. It’s a strange moral dilemma that places the instructor and the student in a dance of suspicion: “is he lying?”... “is she buying it?” When it comes down to it, the assignment was difficult and the student very well may not have known what to do. I could picture him huddled over his computer trying to figure out this difficult reading, particularly as a student whose first language didn’t seem to be English, and trying to meet an assignment deadline. And he had no support. This was before I had conducted my writing exercise using Peter Elbow’s video. Despite my attempts at explaining the assignment several times and providing an example with one of my own key-term papers in class, the students were left to their own devices. It just doesn’t seem realistic to me for the situation to be pared down to either lie or truth.


Then an amazing thing happened in the meeting that caught me by surprise. The student confessed that he didn’t actually understand what he was writing, pointed to various parts of his own paper and asked: “What does this mean?” We talked about his writing process for assignments and I discovered that over the years he has developed a formula on how to summarize readings without fully understanding them. I suppose the formula had worked for him so far but this assignment exposed the cracks in his process. We discussed the meaning of the concepts in the article and I suggested trying a different writing process: to write in his own words first, much like free-writing, then revise what he has wrote.


At the end, we returned to the plagiarism question at hand. I asked him what he thinks should happen. He answered that he should fail the assignment at the very least; he knew that academic dishonesty was serious, even though he didn’t know he was partaking in it. I responded that I disagree with his assessment. I gave him a warning, asked him to redo the assignment without penalty, completed the form and kept the matter between the student and I (there was no indication on the form or anywhere that the instructor is obliged to report all incidents to the department). He was surprised and we talked more about the assignment and how he can approach it. We also chatted about graduate school as he was mildly interested in pursuing a Master’s degree.


So my first plagiarism case became a teaching opportunity, rather than discipline or punishment. The same student now approaches me in class (until then he was shy and hung at the far back of the classroom) to ask questions about the final paper, runs by his ideas with me through email and has expressed interest in taking my summer course. I guess a cynic would claim that he wants to take my course because he’s pegged me for an “easy” teacher, but I’d like to think that I gained his trust as an educator. In a way it is reciprocal: I showed him that I trusted the sincerity of his mistakes and gave him guidance instead of punishment, and now he is trusting me to be his teacher again. That to me has been one of the greatest awards so far in teaching. To win that trust---because it’s not a given, nor should it be---is more affirming than hollow positive comments on student evaluations.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Teaching Journal (5): Demystify Writing

Week 8: Ever since I watched Peter Elbow On Writing (Patricia H. Mangan, 1995, MEF) with my writing group last year, I’ve been wanting to screen the video in a class. I got my chance this week. It’s a fantastic video that demystifies the writing process and begins with Elbow’s “confession” about how he flunked out of grad school the first time around because he couldn’t write... only to return and complete his PhD in English.


After screening the video, I listed Elbow’s four types of audience responses on a Powerpoint slide: 1) free-writing (no audience, private writing, lowest risk); 2) no response (someone reads your writing but provides absolutely no response); 3) response but no evaluation (someone reads your writing then echoes back what s/he thinks the piece is about: “I think you’re saying that...”); and 4) response with evaluation (someone, usually a teacher or an authority figure, reads your writing then evaluates it, highest risk).


The students were to submit their final essay proposal in two weeks so I asked them to bring their paper ideas to class this week to workshop it with peers, using Elbow’s audience response framework. I divided them into groups of similar topic areas (e.g. reproductive technologies, biomedicine, media & representation, surveillance technologies, video games) then asked them to do each activity in sequence. It wasn’t entirely successful. Students found it difficult to not respond and to respond without providing critiques or suggestions. Regardless, they seemed to enjoy the exercise for the most part and very much enjoyed the video. At least one student found the exercise uncomfortable, calling it “group therapy-like”, but I also explains that #3 and #4 audience responses is actually integrated into the peer review process in academic publishing... and so it is part of the “professional” process of writing.


A student came to see me during my office hour after class to discuss her paper and we chatted about writing in general. She really appreciated the exercise and the video, as English is her second language, and she felt that the undergraduate curriculum provides very little support and guidance for students when it comes to writing. I echo her concerns, particularly in the humanities and social sciences. Students are expected to have learned how to formulate arguments and to write an argumentative essay in high school but this skill is never fully developed in secondary education so that when students arrive at post-secondary institutions, they are expected to perform at a level that is unrealistic for them. They simply haven’t been taught... properly.


Beyond the academic, writing is a significant aspect of civic engagement: petitions, letters to government representatives, to newspapers and to corporations, and publishing on online forums, such as Facebook and other social networking sites are growing areas in which individuals contribute to thought development, governance and politics. Writing is also an important aspect of critical thinking, not only to express thought but also to develop and engage critical thought... which we all know is in dire need right now in public discourse. A simple exercise as this can help immensely to demystify the writing process and to make it more accessible and manageable for students.