- The writing task was authentic. Even though the vast majority of the class will probably never actually seek to be a post-graduation Fulbright award recipient, almost all of them write application essays for scholarships. Scholarship application essays have a nearly identical audience and purpose.
- The exercise reinforced for students the idea that they can actively experience other parts of the world — instead of just reading about it — and will almost certainly benefit from doing so. In this I was assisted by the assistant director of our office of international programs. She visited the class to give a 15-minute overview of the Fulbright program and to provide an example of a recent alumna who just received a Fulbright award to do work in Colombia.
- Students were incredibly engaged. For thirty minutes I heard nothing but the clicking of keys as students wrote furiously on their laptops. The resulting drafts demonstrated that students took the work seriously, perhaps because they were writing about their own interests and potential futures.
- Grading was easy because I explicitly defined the essay as a first draft and employed my own version of specifications grading with the two-criteria rubric shown below.
Regarding Amanda’s last post about specifications grading, I’ve been using variations on this method for over a decade. It’s reassuring to know that it now has a name. A few thoughts:
I find grading on spec to be the most useful for my reading responses. For these assignments, I use a simple 2 X 2 rubric.
As a professor of politics I’m frequently reminded of my obligation to be a contributor to my discipline’s development. Ergo, I publish works about political science and security studies. This is the proposed purpose of my being…(particularly pre-tenure) and certainly NOT to publish in gasp pedagogy, or god forbid….other fields.
As such…I want to talk, briefly, today about the most extraordinary book I’ve read this year…
Operations Analysis in the U.S. Army Eight Air Force in World War II
– By Charles W. McArthur
It’s not a teaching book, it isn’t a political science book, it isn’t even a methods book. This book is weird.
Before Charles W. McArthur passed away, he was a Mathematics faculty member at Florida State University. I know right? Math prof? McArthur’s book is about a bunch of academics who worked in the European Theater of Operations in the 1940s helping U.S. pilots learn how to fly and fight more effectively. The book details all the ways in which research and science were a fundamental part of winning the war. McArthur himself flew 35 missions as a bombardier for the Eighth Air Force in WWII. He wrote this book as a historical recovery of the work done by Operations Analysts during that time.
McArthur’s book was published by the American Mathematical Society in 1990. It is part of a series of books published by the AMS called “History of Mathematics”
What does this have to do with pedagogy?
McArthur’s book is phenomenal all on its own merits, but what truly makes this book unique and relevant to pedagogy (and political scientists who research it) is that his work is a meta analysis of the honing of his craft (understanding how to conduct military operations analysis), through his craft as a professor, published by the academic community that he claimed as his discipline–Mathematics. Even though there are ZERO mathematics in the book itself.
McArthur’s book is complex, beautifully written, and fascinating to read. But most importantly…this book now sits on my desk as a reminder, that my lasting contribution to this world…should be about writing about those things about which I am passionate, no matter how far outside my field, or tenure requirement…erm okay maybe after tenure….
Either way, Charles W. McArthur’s book is an inspiration.
Transitioning from passive to active learning in our courses can be a daunting task. At ALPS we focus quite a bit on games and simulations, and one of the chief concerns raised by newcomers to these pedagogies is the loss of control an instructor must face as they move away from a lecture model. This week’s technique is aimed at instructors who want to dip their toes into the active learning pool, rather than cannonballing off the diving board.
Let’s talk about the lecture summary.
This is a guest post from Sarah Fisher, Assistant Professor of Political Science at Emory & Henry College.
Big Bang Theory’s Sheldon Cooper has his quirks, but his deeply rooted concern for relative power and hegemony, whether winning a Nobel Prize or crushing trivia, is pure realism. LeBron James’ contract details reflect the fluidity of alliances, another realist.
Sheldon Cooper and LeBron James are just two of the individuals my Introduction to International Relations students analyzed for their final paper this past semester. After assigning this paper assignment to three different classes, I’ve enjoyed reading papers that outline Leslie Knope’s liberal tendencies and even the realist principles in a sorority’s official pledge.
Given the value I place on authentic writing assignments, I’ve been a bit frustrated at recurring problems in the briefing memos submitted by students who are taking my first-year seminar. For example, each memo is supposed to begin with a specific one-sentence recommendation, but I often see vague run-on sentences that would not be acceptable in the workplace. One potential mechanical solution is to adopt the fifty-word sentence method, but set the limit at perhaps only thirty words.
Memos have a twofold purpose: they bring attention to problems and they solve problems. They accomplish their goals by informing the reader about new information like policy changes, price increases, or by persuading the reader to take an action, such as attend a meeting, or change a current production procedure. Regardless of the specific goal, memos are most effective when they connect the purpose of the writer with the interests and needs of the reader.
Academic journal editors regularly ask me to anonymously review manuscripts that have been submitted for publication. Given that this work is unpaid and has a negligible effect on my prospects for promotion, it usually ends up far from the top of my priority list.
I recently realized that this task could be outsourced to undergraduate students as a writing assignment. Students in many of my courses already analyze journal articles, so why not make the process experiential? They can use the same guidelines and rubrics they use now, but with a more authentic role, audience, and format.
I can see a series of scaffolded components to this exercise:
- Evaluate the manuscript from a stylistic perspective. Is the writing free of mechanical errors? Is it concise and easy to follow?
- Locate a piece of literature in the manuscript’s bibliography. Analyze it using the criteria that I link to above. Explain whether the author of the manuscript under review is referencing this literature appropriately.
- Analyze the argument in the manuscript itself using the same criteria.
- Make a recommendation about the manuscript–for example, accept, revise, or reject–and justify one’s recommendation. This could be performed in teams as a collaborative activity, with the members of each team deciding upon a joint recommendation and then presenting this recommendation to the class.
- I compile the students’ work into a single assessment of the manuscript and submit it to the journal’s editorial staff.
The downside to this idea is that I never know when I will be asked to review a manuscript, so I can’t schedule it as an assignment before the course starts. But I’ve found that both I and my students often enjoy a change in routine.