Today’s lucky winner is… and The other side of presenting–two posts that look at how to approach student presentations, from requiring all students to show up ready to present on the day’s topic to teaching students how to be the audience for a presentation.
And finally, because every class benefits from a bit of lego, take a page from Susherwood’s playbook and think about using legoinyourclasses.
Reading has been fundamental to learning for the last 5,000 years, but it’s still an activity that a lot of students avoid whenever possible. So we, as teachers, create a variety of carrots and sticks to get students to read and to read in ways that are beneficial. These carrots and sticks include specifications grading systems, plain old rubrics, and even software tools. I personally expend a lot of mental effort on designing writing assignments that I hope help students improve their analytical reading skills.
Wrapping up my annual summer course on the Middle East inspired me to take a step back from assignment design and look at a more basic question: what should students be reading, given who they are and why they have enrolled in the course? My Middle East course is a bit peculiar: it’s online, only seven weeks long, and for graduate students. A large portion of the students have military or government experience; many of them have worked and even fought wars in some of the locations they study in the course. They tend to be working professionals looking for both a deeper understanding of their interests and a credential that will help them advance their careers. They are not future professors or undergraduates fulfilling a general education requirement.
People often choose required readings for a course on the basis of “coverage” — we define Topics 1 through N as essential to the study of Subject Q, and look for readings that we think address 1 to N. For a survey course on the Middle East, these topics — at U.S. universities — are usually:
The brief introductory geographic and pre-modern historical overview.
A basic understanding of Islam and its supposed sociocultural effects.
The decline of the Ottoman and Safavid empires and European imperialism.
The Israeli-Palestinian conflict.
Oil and the USA.
Something about “political Islam” (whatever that is), terrorism, and ongoing instability.
For my course, I have always used Westview Press’s A History of the Modern Middle East, by Cleveland and Bunton. It’s a brilliant, well-written synthesis of politics and history. However, the text of the newest edition — excluding notes and index — has crept upward to 556 pages. I also like to assign Reza Aslan’s 266-page No God ButGod for the topic of Islam.
The length of these two books means that I am not able to assign other readings that might be more pertinent to my students’ interests and futures. For example, while I think it is important for people to know some basic information about the Ottoman era, I don’t think it is necessary for these students to read 200 pages about it. They could very well be better served by reading something that will provide them with a better understanding of the politics behind the Arab Spring and its aftermath, like Rage for Order by Robert F. Worth, from Farrar, Straus and Giroux — which itself clocks in at 272 pages.
All of this means that I’m now thinking about which topics are the most and least important to my students, rather than the topics that I think must be included to “cover” the subject. It also means that Ellen Lust’s 900+ page The Middle East, from CQ Press, is just too big for students in this course. Instead I am looking at shorter histories, such as James Gelvin’s The Modern Middle East (370 pages), or books that focus on the contemporary period, like James Barr’s Line in the Sand: The Anglo-French Struggle for the Middle East (359 pages).
If anyone has any recommendations, please comment.
The first-year seminar I mentioned in my last post will have twenty-two students; each will be (or should be) submitting at least thirty-five reading responses during the semester. While the reading responses make students read and write about what they’ve read, I have to grade them within twenty-four hours of submission if my feedback is going to have any effect. To make grading these writing assignments as easy as possible, I’ve used a form of specifications grading with a 2 X 2 rubric.
I’ve noticed that any long-form comments I make about what a student submits — besides compliments like “Good work” — almost always relate to mechanical errors in the student’s writing. I see spelling mistakes, disagreement between the singular and plural, incorrect verb tenses, and other problems that detract from the ideas students are trying to express. My rubric hasn’t included a criteria for writing mechanics, hence the perceived need for me to type something in the tiny comment box when grading.
I’ve decided to add that criteria to the rubric to further reduce the amount of time spent grading. The rubric now looks like this:
Since each reading response will be worth 30 points rather than 20, I will probably also boost my grading scale for the course from 1,000 to 2,000 points.
Previous posts on specifications grading here, here, and here.
Our latest guest post is from Colin M. Brown, PhD, a Lecturer in Comparative Politics at Harvard University. He shares with us a great tool for teaching students how to critically engage with texts in a meaningful way.
Active learning has shown effectiveness in teaching concepts, but what about in instructing college students how to read effectively? One unavoidable problem in political science remains teaching students how to read actual works of social science. We expose students to original research and “great books” in our field as a way of simultaneously teaching the course content and also teaching how to read a particular style of social science argument.
This is well and good, and like writing, reading is a skill where students will learn mostly by doing. But are there things we can do to assist the process of learning how to read analytically?
I’ve got an odd problem this week: too much information.
My class is on Britain and the EU and my students are drowning in material. As well as all the usual reading lists that exist, there’s also a mountain of stuff for non-specialist audiences, because of the looming referendum here in the UK.
My students are more interested in learning about individuals than in concepts—this is the USA, where ideas are filtered through the “me, me, me” lens of personal experience, whether real or imagined. Teaching abstract concepts tends to be difficult, but moving from specific biographical examples to institutions and principles is usually easier than going in the reverse direction. Here’s an example from the second day of my comparative politics course, when I introduce political identity:
Hello ALPS world! I’ve been letting Chad and Simon do all the talking lately, and we can’t have that! I’m back with the new year and ready to share more ideas on how to make our classes more active. My focus is going to be on techniques, large and small, aimed at engaging students and improving learning, all which you can apply in your classes without a lot of extensive planning. Many of these ideas are published, but that doesn’t mean they are widely known, so my plan is to feature some of them on this blog. Try those that appeal and let us know how they work!
This week’s technique comes from Elizabeth Barkley’s (2010) book, the aptly named ‘Student Engagement Techniques: A Handbook for College Faculty’. What I like about this book is that it talks about general tips and strategies for improving engagement as well as specific techniques. Each of the techniques is explained and categorized, has step by step directions, examples, and ways to vary the technique or apply it in an online environment. It is a great resource for promoting active learning in your classes. Today’s technique is the fourth in her book, called ‘Quotes’.