5/4: What I Accomplished Today

1. I didn't sleep well last night. There's a reason I chose this teaching schedule; I'm an insomniac, and regardless of what I do or don't do during the day, my body's not usually interested in going to sleep until 4 or 5. I tried to make it go at 2 last night, and it was most unhappy with me.

So bear in mind as I go through this day, particularly the morning, that I wasn't in a very good mood. I am fully aware of that. I also tried not to talk, because I knew I wasn't in a very good mood and didn't want to snap at anybody, but I talked, probably more than I should have.

I think for the first item, I'll just give you the chronology of the morning, and then I'll discuss. (It's hard to figure out audience awareness, so I'm basically just typing to myself.) I should also say that everyone who was in these meetings this morning is someone I like and respect.

The Literature Committee met at 9. I haven't been able to make the two previous meetings, and I was late today. They were essentially asking for final approval on new course descriptions, outcomes, and assessment plans. The primary reason the Dean (and maybe the Chair) mandated this committee is that our institution was dinged on assessment in our last accreditation, and right now, all degree-seeking students are supposed to take either 231 or 232; as required courses, and as terminal English courses, they should have been assessing for years, so this committee was put together to come up with a plan.

I should also mention that the chair of this committee worked her keester off and, for the 2008 catalog, anything higher than 223 (our Topic course) will count as a Lit credit; it won't have to be only one of the World Lits. To be honest, I really didn't think it was going to be possible to do this, and this was announced as I walk in the door, so I was sort of winded (in a happy way). This was phenomenal news.

Having said this, I'm concerned about the assessment plan that was generated. I've been part of the assessment effort for--I believe three of the last four years (and I can't figure out how I missed a year; I kind of think we just skipped a year). Before last year, we all submitted our student essays with all identifiers removed in our terminal Composition course. The first two years I did this were exercises in futility; the assignments were obviously radically different, and it was really hard to come up with meaningful comparisons (some assignments were clearly research, others non-research thesis-support, others literary analysis [some involving research, some not], others reports or biographies or fact pukes--impossible to find a set of apples to compare to another set of apples). Then a few years ago, that course's curriculum was revised by mandate of our local university from an Intro to Lit to a research-intensive course. Now while I loved my intro to lit and was (and am) sorry to see it lose its required-course status, I think this is a better comp course that better prepares students for what they'll actually be doing in college. Since it moved from a lit course to a comp course, this helped; now we knew at least that everything should be a research assignment, although that's still defined differently.

Between two years ago and last year, our assessment of that Comp II course was revised to reflect the new curriculum; the new curriculum required new outcomes, and as we were devising the outcomes, we specifically formulated them to be concretely measurable and therefore assessable. We had had vague, blobby, non-measurable outcomes, and we refined them so we could measure them. ("Has a clear thesis sentence" is a yes/no question; "demonstrates knowledge and use of the writing process"--well, since all you've got is the final draft in your hand, that's not measurable. That's a guess.)

Also last year, we made a move that our first comp course needed to be assessed in addition to our terminal comp course. Now to be honest and fair, most of this happened last spring term, and my last spring was so zoo-like that I was not involved in the process the committee developed. It involves a pre-test and a post-test, and I like that. I gave the pre-test as my diagnostic. It seems to call for more drafting than that, and to be honest, major assignments, of course, should be drafted (I think)--but you know what? Students are going to have to do in-class writing sometimes which will not necessarily be drafted, so I've always given a diagnostic the first day that isn't drafted. I don't think that's a contradiction; I think that gives students practice with skills they'll need. I also give them an essay final, because they need to practice taking those, and I certainly think English Composition is a logical, sensible place to do that.

The problem for some people is the procedure the committee came up with. We knew there was to be a pre-test and a post-test. That's a good idea; part of what was missing from the other assessment was growth, and our sense was that, by evaluating student essays from the beginning of the term and from the end of the term, we'd have some sense of whether there was growth, which certainly needs to be first and foremost on an assessment of a writing course, I think.

The prompts for the pre-test came in the week before the semester started. That wasn't optimal; some people already had syllabi done and didn't have a convenient slot to work this into. (Like I said, I just slotted out my old diagnostic and used the new assessment for that. Since I have access to a computer lab, I could have them work in there after I'd done my Intro to the Course stuff, and these were all done the first day of class, no big deal.)

The prompts for the post-test came three weeks ago. Most of us had already started the research paper. To be honest, I didn't look at it until this week; I figured it was the same format as the pre-test, and I don't like to look at prompts too much beforehand because I don't want to teach specifically to the prompt, even subconsciously. I was a little surprised when I looked at the prompt choices because they all involve some research. Now my in-person classes meet once a week, so I have a nice, long three-hour class period which becomes a three-hour final exam block, and I'm still not sure that's enough time for a little mini-research paper. I haven't exactly decided what I'm going to do about that. Probably punt. I'll decide Monday (which is also the day I give this final to my in-person course).

People are going ballistic, though, because they see this as something they were supposed to do as an alternative to the research paper, but they didn't get it in time to do that. Now I didn't see it as an alternative to the research paper, and I wouldn't have used it as that; the prompts aren't the sort of practice I think students need for a full-on research paper (although I think they're good response prompts).

(I said I was going to go chronological and then discuss, didn't I, and I'm not doing that. Oh, well.)

Anyway, some people in the department are upset about the 101 assessment, and as a result, the lit committee drafted vague, fuzzy outcomes. Some of them made comments about the
outcomes being assessable, but I'm not convinced they're quantifiable.

Things to note in this transaction: a. With the exception of the chair of the committee, who was at last year's assessment (she wasn't with the department before that), I don't recall ever having seen anyone else in the room at an assessment. Since the committee chair was only at last year's assessment, she isn't familiar with the sturm und drang we went through to come up with measurable outcomes, so they haven't done that. Now I either could have pointed that out or sat quietly. I normally would have pointed it out, but I knew I was in such an unpleasant mood that I was afraid if I started that I'd just be mean and bitchy, so I decided to ruminate. I've ruminated all day. I'm still not convinced these outcomes are assessable.

b. With the exception of three or four people in the room, the members of this committee were a curious bunch: I don't think I've ever seen most of them on another department committee. Just to be blunt (and remember, I like these people and respect their work and opinions), several of these people are the sort who don't ever help make decisions and then whine and moan about the decisions that are made. The way I look at it, committee work is like voting: you have to have some sort of nerve to think you're entitled to an opinion about the results when you didn't participate in the process. (Translation: Shame on you. Shut up.)

c. There was another colleague who was obsesed with the fact that people were going to be unhappy and we should try to cut this off at the pass. If anyone does anything, people will be unhappy. If anyone does nothing, people will be unhappy. In academia, it is my observation that people are just going to be unhappy, and this should not affect your course of action in anyway. You can't make them stop breathing, either.

But anyway, that was the first hour.

2. Then we went to the Department Meeting. First on the bill was a half hour presentation by the Library. Now I love our campus library; all of the assistants at the campus branch I use know me by face and name because I use the dang thing to death, and when I request things from Interlibrary Loan, I don't have to give all my information anymore because the ILL person knows it. I use (and abuse) the library.

We're also the English Department. The two primary comp courses, which nearly everyone is required to teach at least occasionally, both involve research. And after that presentation, I was just seething: anybody who heard anything new in that presentation is not qualified to do the job for which we were hired.

I take that back: there was one new thing I heard. We have a program in which students and faculty can check out e-books. That I knew and have played with a little. However, it came out in this presentation that, if someone has an e-book checked out, nobody else can use it; it's treated as though it were a book on the shelf, and we have to act as though we only have one copy. Now I understand copyright and publisher concerns, but for pity's sake, what's the point in an electronic program if you can't have multiple virtual copies? Dumb, dumb, dumb.

Then someone talked for a few minutes about a new technology program we'll have available for fall. This was interesting, and I'll probably go to their website to learn more about it.

Someone else gave a very interesting and even moving presentation on Service Learning. That was worthwhile.

Our Reading Lead Faculty said we're starting a Reading Committee in the fall. Now I think Reading is so crucial, and has been so lacking, that my immediate response was, "Oh, I'll have to do that!" And then I thought, "You are already on the committees for Comp I, Comp II, and Literature, as well as the College Readiness Task Force. Just realistically speaking, you can't do a good job on anything else." So I guess I won't get to be on that even though I think I probably should be. I'm right; nobody else is going to protect my time but me. (But as Placement Lead, don't I need to do this? Probably. You're still not going to unless you're specifically told to, and then I, as your brain, will make you give up something else.)

I think there were a few other miscellaneous doo-dad reports here.

And then the extravaganza began.

Our Comp I lead faculty started talking about the logistics of the assessment, and someone made the comment that the prompts were intrusive and of questionable value. Now the institution as a whole is thrilled with Comp I's decision to assess, so this was an odd thing to say and told us more about the faculty member than about any actual facts. (I like this man; I think he's smart, has a fun sense of humor, and is very rigorous and student-centered. However, I also think he intentionally plays Devil's Advocate whether or not he actually believes what he's saying. Now Athens needs a gadfly, don't get me wrong. However, he is also one who usually complains about results without having been involved in the harrowing experience of thrashing them out.)

However, this whole assessment process has been so hellacious, and the committee has taken such heat about it from the department, that the lead became upset and left the room. That was a first. People didn't quite know what to do.

One person pointed out the essays had just materialized three weeks ago, which was true. Someone else (who was trying to represent the departed lead and generally did a very good, credible job worthy of a true and loyal friend; I should have done that) said the essays hadn't just materialized, since we'd had them all semester. I pointed out that they were different essays; the three prompts in the first batch were simple respond-and-support, while the second three prompts had a research component--which meant that, in fact, these prompts had arrived after most of us had started our last paper. We had a little dispute about that, but most people who had actually looked at the prompts realized they were different essays.

Then someone from the Lit committee pointed out that, when some faculty members had balked at the procedure at the beginning of the semester, they had "felt ignored." Now again, this is someone I like very much; I have seen her in a social setting several times, and I think she is very smart and funny. But you know what? Boo hoo. The Chair and Dean had charged the 101 committee with coming up with a assessment plan, and this was clearly announced at last spring's introductory meetings; people knew it was coming and should have participated. Those concerns needed to come up during the formulation of that plan, not at its presentation, and since the people had opted out of participation, they had forfeited the right to whine as far as I was concerned. (This is essentially the only act of the Comp I committee in which I haven't been involved because of my schedule last spring, and although I essentially agree with what they formulated, if I didn't, I'd keep it to my own damn self. I didn't participate, so I don't get to bitch.) Boo-hoo that you "felt ignored." The committee didn't receive the benefit of your input at a useful point. Again I say: Shame on you. Shut up.

And then there was some discussion about whether or not the committee had been charged to do that and what the proper bounds of committee work was. Beats me. Sure did sound to me like the committee had done what it was charged with and then got reamed new ones for it.

I will now take this opportunity to give my opinion on assessment, which nobody gives a rat's ass about but me, but you know what? This blog is cheaper than therapy, so I'm just going to type it. Usually, once I've typed something out, my brain will permit me to move on.

In my personal opinion, assessment is among both the most useful and the most useless things we do. During the assessment itself, we discuss the criteria for the papers, and then we all read a number of papers written by a variety of students in the course. These discussions and the readings of the essays are invaluable; I have learned such a lot from my colleagues, and from reading other people's students, during these sessions. Just learning how other teachers prioritize things is fascinating. "Hmmm. Several people seem to think that X is more important than I treat it." So the next semester, maybe I'll push X a little more. We should constantly be learning and growing (which means tweaking our syllabi), and I've gotten some wonderful ideas for doing that from the discussion and reading.

I'm considerably more conflicted about the results themselves. The results are meaningless, as far as I'm concerned: what the hell does it mean if 62% of outgoing students can do a task? Always? How would we know? Will they be able to do it in three months? Could they already do it when they came? I have never seen an assessment result that gave me any usable information. (Is any number less than 100% acceptable? Even if that number were 95%, and it never is, that still means 5% of students are falling through the cracks for that objective. This frustrates me.)

The more ominous problem I have with the results is what tends to happen to them. Once results go to Administrators (there should be a shudder and perhaps some hissing here; think Rocky Horror or British Panto), they become sticks with which to beat us. Even if the stats are good (and again, they can't, almost by definition, be 100%, so they can never really be good enough), then if we don't do at least as well the next year, we're Bad.

Now assessment, at least at the post-secondary level, has never been about individual teachers that I have seen. It's a pain in the butt, but I think the intellectual freedom issues are generally not terribly heinous (although I suspect this will be an ongoing concern, as it should be). Once students have become statistics, education is over. (We must bear in mind that this is from the Lead Faculty for Placement. Much of my job is about turning students into statistics. The difference is, I hope, that I at least attempt to turn them back into human beings when I'm done with their statistics.) I think the huge trend right now is to have a top-heavy organizational scheme to keep track of all these assessments and statistics--and you know, I think a better use of those resources might be either to put those people in a classroom and let them teach (most of them were originally faculty) or to use their salaries and pay for more teachers, or raise the salaries of the teachers we've got.

Administration is The Peter Principle. It is a dark side that swallows everyone. (That's obviously not entirely fair; I can think of several people who haven't been entirely gobbled and some, I fear, in the process of being gobbled. However, these exceptions prove the rule. Note to new teachers: don't think you're going to change the system from within. It's going to change you. By definition. No exception. Stop whining. Move on.) Once people leave classrooms, the priority of necessity moves away from students. Even when the focus is on students, it isn't, quite, really. (That's the sort of broad, sweeping generalization that requires support, and I don't have any right now.) I have already made several friends promise me that, if I ever make rumblings about moving to Administration, they are to beat me with a rock until I am senseless. (I really don't see my doing that; I didn't go into education to work a 40-hour week.)

All right, let's see if I can move on now.

3. Co-Vivant and I had dum-dum food. I was tense, and this is a treat for both of us. (It's actually dim sum, but she tends to make up little nicknames, and they often stick.) We always have a good time with dum-dum food; we both eschew forks, and I'm really terrible with chopsticks, so we have a good time, and our tablecloth is always messy. (Actually, I'm getting better with the chopsticks, but I suspect we'll find something else to have a good time with once I am competent with them.)

4. One of the things that came out of the meeting was that there was a nice handout for how to put together a new course for the catalog, like I'm trying to do with Arthur. It surely would have been helpful to have had that handout before; it would have saved me considerable time and embarrassment.

It also looks like, based on what people said today, when you have a course go before the Curriculum Committee, you're supposed to attend that meeting. I've never heard that before.

Now what was originally arranged was that the course would come before the last meeting today. However, I never received any information about when or where this meeting would be, so I don't think I was expected. I also don't know when it would have been held because our department's representative was at the department meeting.

So I don't know if I've totally wasted all this dumb paperwork or not. (I put this here because I checked to see if I had any e-mail about this after lunch.) Frustrating, frustrating experience, and unless the Dean makes me, I have no intention of doing anything like it again.

4.5. At lunch while I was telling my Co-Vivant all the above crap, I made a comment about how eye-opening it would be for the lit committee when they assess next year. And then I had a little giggle fit, and she asked me what about. "Wouldn't it be cool if I weren't there and this wasn't a problem that involved me at all?" We'll have to see if I can pull that website together in time. I feel sort of like The Iceman Cometh: if I don't take steps to improve what I don't like in my life, I deserve the life I end up with. If I take steps and fail, that's one thing--but if I don't even try, then I deserve the bitter, frustrated, angry personality I'm going to end up with.

5. Took a nap. (I'd had fewer than three hours of restless sleep. This was a good thing.)

6. Reading. Didn't read much today.

7. Pogo. Got my badges to 60%.

8. Got my WOW Human Mage to Level 24.

9. BigFishGames. Today's game involved Dora the Explorer. I'm excused.

10. Made dinner. (I actually made a recipe from a few days ago, the Chinese Chicken Salad.) However, it was neither enough protein nor enough carbs, apparently, for my diabetic Co-Vivant, so she had low blood sugar twice (not once, but twice) during the evening. This is frustrating.