The ECPR Teaching and Learning Politics (TLP) standing group together with Comenius University in Bratislava invite applications for the 5th ECPR Teaching and Learning Summer School to be held in Bratislava, Slovakia, from 6 July to 13 July 2020.
The summer school is organized around the effective use of three methods— simulation, games and academic debate. The summer school will draw upon best practice in the scholarship of teaching and learning and will offer a combination of practical and theoretical sessions.
The fee for the 2020 summer school is €270, which includes accommodation, lunches/dinners, coffee breaks, tuition, e-reader and a trip to a UNESCO World heritage site.
The applications should include a CV, a motivation letter and a statement of teaching philosophy. Application deadline is 16 February 2020. Full call for applications is available from the TLP website (here).
Yesterday I had about a third of my students turn up for class. Possibly that was related to the deadline for an essay due for me later that day – certainly the number who turned up was about the same as the number who’d already submitted the work.
Since I’ve known that this was going to be an awkward timing since the start of semester, back in early October, I’d left some of the session open, so I could be flexible about what to do, including not asking for any specific prep beyond the general reading.
In the event, I spent a block of the class talking about assessment. Unsurprisingly, since they’d already submitted, none of the students who turned up wanted to talk about the essay, but they did want to talk about the exam, which’ll be after the Christmas break.
So we discussed how that would work (we’re doing a seen-paper format, so they get it a week beforehand) and what I was looking for.
So what’s the problem?
Well, the people who turned up yesterday are the ones who most likely didn’t need the discussion, either because they’d have worked out the salient points already, or because they’d have asked. Indeed, the student who asked about the exam some weeks ago was there.
The issue is for those who didn’t turn up, the ones still working on their essay a couple of hours ahead of the deadline, the ones will the poor attendance throughout the semester.
This is a classic of the Matthew Principle: those that have, get more. And it’s not really helped by me being a bit petty-minded.
I could have waited until next week’s final class to discuss the exam – and probably someone who wasn’t there yesterday will ask about it – but I have also spent two months trying to reinforce the message that the rational choice for a student who’s finding it hard going is to come to class, because that’s the best place to get the essentials together, and to get questions answered.
Partly, this is about incentives. For my other class, on negotiation, I have great attendance, mainly because the classwork is very active and because the assessment is about what you’ve done in class. In this case, the work is more mixed and it’s not directly linked.
Maybe I need to be thinking about whether I can change that, in a way that works for the subject matter.
But maybe I also need to think more about how much this is a case of taking horses to water: where do me responsibilities lie and where do they end?
If you’re like me, you are finding that more students need help with basic study skills than previously. You might also find it difficult to explain learning strategies that for many academics have been automatic behaviors since elementary school. Loleen Berdahl of the University of Saskatchewan has created a handy screen-capture video about studying effectively for final exams, available here, just in time for the end of the semester in the USA and Canada. Feel free to share it with your students.
I’ve always considered myself an approachable teacher; someone students can come to with questions or worries or just for a talk. And from what I hear, I am considered to be approachable.
Still, I am noticing something that worries me. I have been having open office for about 9 years now, but fewer students have been showing up. Weeks go by when no one comes, even in periods when I am teaching and coordinating courses.
Turnout during open office hours again was low during the first weeks of this year, when I coordinated and taught a first-year course on academic research and writing. At the end, students write a short paper. These are randomly distributed among teaching staff, myself plus 10 other colleagues – together we teach 25 problem-based learning groups of about 12 students. As soon as results are out, all students, whether they have failed or passed, are invited to meet with the person who marked their paper to discuss the assessment during scheduled open office hours.
This year I asked colleagues to inform me about the number of students that had shown up. The table below shows the data for those who failed the course. Interestingly one colleague had to do her open office hours via Skype; no less than 7 out of 9 students showed up. Yet, there is some research that suggests that using technology does not make a huge difference.
Number of failed students
Number of failed students attending open office hours
Why did so few students show up?
I decided to ask some simple questions to the students themselves during a session in our mentor programme. The approximately 100 students who attended (out of nearly 300) might not be representative of the group of students that does not turn up in my office. But I still learned something interesting.
Of the 86 students completing questions via an online survey tool, 36 had failed the course and 29 had attended the open office hours. Those who attended, generally did so to get clarification regarding their paper’s assessment.
Of those who did not attend, some simply stated that they passed the course and saw no need to discuss the feedback. Others referred to having been sick, stressed and/or busy with the new courses – when asked, quite a few of these students did not write to staff to ask for another appointment.
Asked why they thought others had not come, some answered that these must be lazy students or that they missed motivation because they knew what they had done wrong.
But quite a few answers touched upon something that we might all too easily overlook, namely students’ expectations regarding feedback opportunities. These answers did not just concern not knowing what to do with feedback. For instance, one student wrote that students who did not show up might be “insecure and/or uncomfortable with getting feedback”. Another student wrote that “you have limited time with the tutors and tutors often have a lot of work and not much time for you”.
This is something that I want to explore in more detail. I have already briefly discussed this with our academic writing advisor, and we may want to see whether we can specifically address this issue in a forthcoming curriculum review.
But what about solutions for the here and now? There are many ways in which open office are organised, but what works best?
One colleague suggested changing times. Admittedly, my open office hours are Wednesdays from 08:30-09:30, but this never was a problem – and the feedback open office hours during the aforementioned course were scheduled in the afternoon. Elsewhere in cyberspace people have been suggesting other solutions, including a rethink of faculty office space. I’d love to squeeze in a couch, but my office is rather tiny.
On Twitter someone suggested that the wording ‘open office hours’ is unclear to students and that ‘student drop-in hours’ may make more sense. So, the name plate next to my door now mentions my student drop-in hours and so does the syllabus of an upcoming course.
Let’s see what happens. I hope students will come and talk to me again. The door’s open, simply turn up at the stated time!
For non-UK readers, you may or may not be aware that we’re having a general election here pretty soon, in what looks like a season 4 finale for “The Brexit Saga” (many, many more seasons still to come).
I mention it here mainly because it’s made my home life come a lot closer to my work life, as I try to marry Political Science to The State of This with loved ones.
Usually when we talk about learning and teaching, we value proximity. Active learning assumes that more visceral experiences are more likely to generate deep understanding of substance and process than are passive, transmission models.
And it’s certainly the case that the immediacy of the election and the salience of the issues has driven a markedly higher level of inquiry from both voting and non-voting members of the household.
For context, our constituency has become a much more contested one of late, including the current MP having lost the party whip (but still standing) and an electoral pact between a couple of the other parties to try and improve their chances. Let’s just say I’ve got a lot of campaign materials through our door of late.
However, for some of the voters in the house, the situation is profoundly unhappy: levels of trust in anyone are low, the head vote isn’t the same as the heart vote, especially as the heart vote option might not even be possible in any case.
Some voters in the house are distinctly hacked off by this, and my efforts to apply the salve of rational choice action under FPTP aren’t going that well (especially when some voters in the house are behavioural scientists).
But enough of my exciting mealtime conversations: what might we learn from this for our teaching?
Well, it reminds me that we have to be careful not to let our students overly-invest in their learning environment. This does happen with big. multi-day simulation exercises, which is why it’s essential to have a comprehensive debrief straight after to allow they to step back out.
But it’s also an issue with emotional/sensitive topics. We need to be very careful about how we set up those discussions and how all participants frame their contributions. We also need to give space for students to give voice to their concerns and preoccupations, be that in the group or individually.
What we can’t – and shouldn’t – do is try to pretend that emotion doesn’t come into it. Politics is emotional at a pretty basic level, so if we cut that out then we lose both only the recognition of individual engagement with it, but also a part of our understanding.
Stepping back and asking people to reflect on their emotions is part of that, but even this isn’t easy. Which is why we also have to show that we acknowledge and empathise.
Sometimes we don’t have good – in the sense of being satisfactory – answers to issues, and that’s fine to admit too, because it’s in the gaps that our own reflection and understanding grows.
Maybe something to discuss over a family meal sometime?
A reminder that the early bird registration for the 2020 APSA Teaching and Learning Conference is December 14.
As I have said before, this conference is not the standard sequence of tedious, badly-attended panel sessions. Attendees join a working group on a particular topic for the length of the conference. There are also hands-on workshops between sessions. And this TLC will convene in glorious Albuquerque, New Mexico, where in 2011 a conversation led to the creation this blog. Full conference details are at the APSA’s TLC webpage.
This guest post comes from Lt Chad Barrigan, Learning Development Officer in the Army’s Educational and Training Services.
I’m an Education Officer in the Army. Like every teacher, we are faced with the eternal question about what our role is. Are we there to be a font of and dispenser of knowledge or are we there to exploit the knowledge of the students in the room? I find myself firmly in the latter camp and despair at the idea of teaching classes based off PowerPoint and research tasks. The problem we face is how do we get the same base level of knowledge across the class to actually be able to do a good exploitation activity?
I think I may have found a way to do this and it is a combination of using learning technology, scenario-based learning, motion graphic design, Black Mirror’s Bandersnatch and Star Trek in an exercise called Clarke’s Crisis (solely named so as to wind up a colleague.)
relations (IR) textbooks often relegate the topic of international law to a few
pages or subsume it within the general topic of cooperation. Beyond defining
the different sources of international law, little effort is made to compare
those sources or connect international law to domestic laws. Moreover,
international law tends to be discussed mostly in terms of treaties or framed
as primarily an enforcement problem. International
law deserves more nuanced coverage than current introductory textbooks suggest.
address this issue, I have developed a debate to promote critical analysis of
international law’s varied sources. This debate is adaptable, scalable, and links
well to IR issues. Best of all, it sparks student interest because it draws on
a popular MARVEL movie—Captain America:
The storyline of Captain America: Civil War follows the creation of the Sokovia Accords as a response to the killing of civilians by superheroes. States wrote the Sokovia Accords in order to monitor and, through the United Nations, regulate the activities of superpowered individuals. In the movie there are six scenes relevant to the Sokovia Accords. Students can view the entire movie or use publicly available YouTube video clips to watch the relevant scenes: intro fight scene part 1 and part 2, grieving mother scene, initial presentation, first debate, second debate, and prison scene. A version of the Sokovia Accords text is available on the MCU fandom page.
I recommend introducing the debate after exploring topics like the treaty making process (i.e. negotiation, ratification, implementation, and compliance), the two-level game model of IR, the importance of ratification for legal obligation, or variations in the criteria to enter into force. Students should be reminded that, under international law, failure to follow the accords is more likely to generate tort liability (requiring compensation) than a criminal prosecution.
teams of students (~2-4 students per team) debate the following resolution:
Resolved: The Sokovia Accords are the best
legal instrument to regulate the use of force by superheroes.
remainder of the students in the class serve as judges. Before the debate, each
team should submit a short summary of its arguments to the instructor and
debate itself is divided up into five sections:
Opening Statements. Debaters sit in front of the class with their team. Flip a coin to determine which team starts and after Rebuttal Planning reverse the order. If possible, meet with student teams before to discuss rhetorical techniques, dividing up the speaking, and responding to judges.
Questioning by Judges. Judges ask questions of each team. In classes leading up to the debate draw attention to how arguments are questioned.
Rebuttal Planning & Judges’ Conference. Each team is excused to the hallway to plan. Ask the judges: Which arguments are they most interested in? Which are most/least compelling? How they plan to push each team during the next phase?
Rebuttals and Questioning. Each team rebuts arguments and answers questions. Judges may interrupt to ask for clarification or questions.
Closing Statements & In-class Debrief. Each team makes an uninterrupted closing statement. Time permitting, de-brief by focusing on the experience rather than arguments. What did students think was the most challenging aspect of the debate? When are debates most effective? What did they most like about the activity? Then applaud the efforts of the debate teams and remind the judges to send in their rulings before the next class.
the Sokovia Accords will get students to compare the different sources of
international law and re-engage with previously covered topics. To promote further investigation of the
connection to domestic laws, tell students that the United States has yet to
ratify the Accords. This small change generates questions about the interaction
of domestic laws and rights with international treaties seeking to establish treatment
standards (for example, the Sokovia Accords allow for indefinite
If students are able to review additional material, a recent article by Verdier and Voeten (2015) provides an explanation for customary international law not based on reciprocity, which can be used to examine the effects of violating an international law on the community. Pevehouse and Goldstein’s (2017) textbook provides a basic overview of some alternatives to treaty law on pages 216-217. Finally, to create a courtroom feel to the debate, abridged versions of cases can be added on custom (The Paquete Habana, Legality of the Threat or Use of Nuclear Weapons), general principles (Italy (Gentini) v. Venezuela, Prosecutor v. Tradic, and Corfu Channel Case), jus cogens rules (Roper v. Simmons, Prosecutor v. Furundžija), or even cases concerning the state responsibility (US (Chattin) v. Mexico, Mexico (Mallen) v. US).
Over the years, I have tried to incorporate a blog assignment into my Introduction to Comparative Politics class. I think this is the fourth attempt and I might finally be close to a format that works.
The most recent iteration of this assignment, which I did last fall and revised for this semester, centers on the students selecting a country for the entire semester. I have them fill out a preference survey and then assign, to avoid overlap. I call the assignment the Country Expert Project and it involves a couple of components. First, the students write a short reflection paper before they start the blog posts. They are supposed to talk about what they already know about the country (sometimes the answer is “very little”) and why they picked it. This serves as a baseline, because they will also end the project with a reflection on what they learned about their country and what surprised them. Another small assignment at the beginning requires them to read a handful of academic blog posts; we then discuss blogs as a genre and how it is different than a research paper.