One of the biggest trepidations of new professors is how to conduct a classroom of students and actually get them to meet the required goals in the course. The goal for many professors is walking the fine line between advocate and disciplinarian, much like Ted Mosby's predicament in the sitcom How I Met Your Mother. In his collection of journals, What the Best College Teachers Do, history professor Ken Bains lists a number of successful practices used by college professors to help newbies from pulling a Ted Mosby.
The section I found most useful focused on how successful professors conducted class lectures and discussions. Because the most interaction shared between professors and their students occurs within the classroom, it is essential that these lectures grab the students' attention and focus them on the subject material. Bains lays out a plan for success in seven steps:
1) Create natural critical learning environment
This is an essential first step because you have one chance to make a first impression with students which will determine whether you have their attention for the remainder of the semester. The method Bains recommends using is posing questions to the students during discussion rather than giving an opinionated fifty-minute lecture. This practice is an excellent way to conduct the FSEM as it is a discussion-based class. Posing questions to the students not only challenges them to think critically on the subject, but also gives them the confidence that their opinions are valued in class discussions.
2) Get their attention and keep it
Obviously professors want to engage their students' attention through the subject material, but even in a class on the Beatles the professor needs to have a plan to keep the students focused on lecture material and participating in discussion. Many professors will begin with an anecdote or moment of interest in the required reading material.
3) Start with the students rather than discipline
One major error that professors can commit is placing the focus in the classroom on the subject and ignoring the needs of the students. Although the course subject is obviously essential in the classroom, it can be very easy to overlook the concerns and needs of the students in order to stay on schedule. Having a flexible syllabus which allows time for changes in scheduling allows for the professor to accommodate extra time for students who may not understand the material or need the extra time to prepare for an assignment.
4) Seek commitments
Commitments? What commitments? This is what students will be asking midway through the semester unless they realize their goals early in the class. The professor can help students in this area by setting goals on the syllabus; however, this is just a beginning step. Engaging with students one on one (to the best of the professor's ability) is the best way to come up with individual commitments. Some students may have different goals than others, and it's good for the professor to know what they are striving towards to better help them through the course.
5) Help students outside of the classroom
Going off of one on one connections...being accessible to students in office hours is an absolute essential for professors. Conferences with students should be encouraged and for many students, it's better to meet in office hours to go over assignments and concerns about the class than through email.
6) Engage students in disciplinary thinking
Thinking outside the box is the primary goal of the FSEM. This allows students to develop their own ideas from alternative sources for better understanding and meta cognition. Encouraging first-year students to think outside the box will strengthen cognitive skills through college and afterwards in the corporate world. Not only will students who engage in disciplinary thinking develop stronger arguments and insights in college-level courses, but it will also give them a deeper interest in their classes and the subject material.
7) Create diverse learning experiences
This may be the final step, but it's just as vital as the earlier six steps in the teaching process. This method ties in with meta cognition, but rather than focusing on written studies and traditional learning situations, the students are put into alternative learning situations to further enhance the learning experience. One example of this which was used in The Beatles in the 21st Century FSEM was giving the students a chance to play the Beatles Rock Band as a culmination of their class. Not only was it a fun and relaxing way to end the FSEM, but it also allowed the students to take on the roles of the Beatles and learn more about the band by being in their shoes for a class.
Monday, April 27, 2015
Saturday, April 11, 2015
Does Teaching Provide Insight into the Writing Process?
What do Zadie Smith, Brian Oliu and Colin Rafferty have in common (other than being successful, published writers)?
All three are professors of creative writing: Smith teaches fiction writing, and literary and cultural criticism at NYU; Oliu is a professor of poetry and the lyric essay (among other subjects) at the University of Alabama; and Rafferty teaches creative writing, specializing in nonfiction, at the University of Mary Washington.
With the number of writers emerging in the 2010's, a significant number are also teachers of some form of writing, whether it be journalism, creative writing or literary studies. Granted, writing is a difficult field to get into and even more difficult to make a living from. But the correlation between teaching and writing is definitely a close one. Which begs the question: does teaching make one a better writer, or vice versa?
Downs and Wardle address this connection in their journal "Re-imagining the Nature of FYC: Trends in Writing About Writing Pedagogies." Among the many trends mentioned in the article, the one I found to contain most interest is the "auto-ethnography" required of all first-year composition students.
Downs and Wardle describe this process as, "they talk-aloud and record themselves in a natural setting while writing a paper for a class. They then transcribe their own protocol and code it, using as a starting point a code the class invents together after reading studies by scholars...Coding categories might include “lexical revision,” “conceptual revision,” “writing without planning,” “re-reading,” and so on. The students might discuss the form their papers should take, debating whether the task is entirely writing-to-learn and thus can take the form of an informal reflection, or whether it is also a learning-to-write activity preparing them to write about research in a more formal way. The students draft their papers in the genres agreed appropriate by the class, read and respond to one another’s drafts in a structured workshop, and then revise for teacher feedback, which leads to grading in the end-of-semester portfolio."
This style of group-revision in writing not only provides students with the methods to workshop in a group, but also to teach other students methods of writing that they may be gifted in. I know from experience that I could bring an essay to workshop that wasn't working and another student will often give a suggestion that I had never considered. Or have what I think is the perfect underlying theme to a memoir piece and it takes a room of fellow students to convince me that the piece isn't working. And because they're my readers, they're probably right. These are both examples of students teaching other students how to compose a successful story, essay, poem, whatever the piece may be. These methods not only help students to improve their classmates' writing, but gives them the opportunity to learn from other methods used by their fellow students.
But back to the question posed above: this is kind of asking which came first, the chicken or the egg. You can't force something that isn't already present (i.e. a talent in writing); and very often this talent doesn't need to be taught in a classroom. However, one of the best ways to learn a skill is through teaching it to another person. Which, as teachers of first-year composition and creative writing, these fore-mentioned authors know well.
Although teaching may not be an essential for being a writer, it certainly provides insight to other forms of writing and helps one improve based on styles seen in the classroom. And if one wishes to be a successful published writer, why not follow the example of those same authors (and teachers of writing) we all admire?
All three are professors of creative writing: Smith teaches fiction writing, and literary and cultural criticism at NYU; Oliu is a professor of poetry and the lyric essay (among other subjects) at the University of Alabama; and Rafferty teaches creative writing, specializing in nonfiction, at the University of Mary Washington.
With the number of writers emerging in the 2010's, a significant number are also teachers of some form of writing, whether it be journalism, creative writing or literary studies. Granted, writing is a difficult field to get into and even more difficult to make a living from. But the correlation between teaching and writing is definitely a close one. Which begs the question: does teaching make one a better writer, or vice versa?
Downs and Wardle address this connection in their journal "Re-imagining the Nature of FYC: Trends in Writing About Writing Pedagogies." Among the many trends mentioned in the article, the one I found to contain most interest is the "auto-ethnography" required of all first-year composition students.
Downs and Wardle describe this process as, "they talk-aloud and record themselves in a natural setting while writing a paper for a class. They then transcribe their own protocol and code it, using as a starting point a code the class invents together after reading studies by scholars...Coding categories might include “lexical revision,” “conceptual revision,” “writing without planning,” “re-reading,” and so on. The students might discuss the form their papers should take, debating whether the task is entirely writing-to-learn and thus can take the form of an informal reflection, or whether it is also a learning-to-write activity preparing them to write about research in a more formal way. The students draft their papers in the genres agreed appropriate by the class, read and respond to one another’s drafts in a structured workshop, and then revise for teacher feedback, which leads to grading in the end-of-semester portfolio."
This style of group-revision in writing not only provides students with the methods to workshop in a group, but also to teach other students methods of writing that they may be gifted in. I know from experience that I could bring an essay to workshop that wasn't working and another student will often give a suggestion that I had never considered. Or have what I think is the perfect underlying theme to a memoir piece and it takes a room of fellow students to convince me that the piece isn't working. And because they're my readers, they're probably right. These are both examples of students teaching other students how to compose a successful story, essay, poem, whatever the piece may be. These methods not only help students to improve their classmates' writing, but gives them the opportunity to learn from other methods used by their fellow students.
But back to the question posed above: this is kind of asking which came first, the chicken or the egg. You can't force something that isn't already present (i.e. a talent in writing); and very often this talent doesn't need to be taught in a classroom. However, one of the best ways to learn a skill is through teaching it to another person. Which, as teachers of first-year composition and creative writing, these fore-mentioned authors know well.
Although teaching may not be an essential for being a writer, it certainly provides insight to other forms of writing and helps one improve based on styles seen in the classroom. And if one wishes to be a successful published writer, why not follow the example of those same authors (and teachers of writing) we all admire?
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