13 WDL Student Evaluations

I have not read my student evaluations since they went completely online after my sabbatical.  I haven't felt the need.  I figured my department chair would let me know if I was seriously screwing up in any way.  Also, I have erroneously believed that online evaluation skewed lower.  It seems I was wrong.  The University of Oregon has dedicated an entire web page to data driven justification of the move to online.  And according to the paper, by David Fike, et al,  "Online vs. Paper Evaluations of Faculty:  When Less is Just as Good" (Journal of Effective Teaching), online evals get fewer responses but they offer pretty much the same results as in-class evaluations.

Last Friday I threw out 22 years of paper evaluations.  Dropped them into the little blue recycling bin that now blesses my office.  (I think this is a super development -- personal recycling bins.  I used to bring in my own paper bag.)  I saved a few evaluation packets from the fire just to share with you.

In Winter, 1989, the evaluations had ratings from 5 - 1 (5 being high and 1 being low).  There were twelve areas for evaluation plus a section for comments.

1. Organization of subject matter.
2. Knowledge of subject matter.
3. Attitude toward subject
4. Ability to explain clearly
5. Ability to stimulate thinking
6. Speaking ability, voice
7. Attitude toward students, etc.
8. Fairness of grading
9. Tolerance of disagreement
10. Out of class assistance
11. 10b. How would you rate this instructor?
12. 10c.  DIFFICULTY OF CLASS

Except for Sp112 (which from the comments seems to have been very poorly organized), I got good reviews.  (This isn't odd.  As a department chair at COCC I read many, many teacher evaluations and it seems as though most faculty at COCC get good reviews.)  The best were from the public speaking class.  My favorite evaluations are always the ones that show a "turnaround."  Usually that turnaround is from fear of communication to self-assurance.  But sometimes the turnaround is about me:  "I didn't think I would like her when I first walked in but she is an excellent teacher."

The last set of evaluations I actually looked at were those from Fall, 2011, before I went on my last sabbatical.  Ratings had expanded to seven levels and evaluated areas had declined to eight:

1. Objectives have been made clear.
2. Activities are related to the objectives
3. Instructor is well-prepared
4. Instructor is available
5. Feedback is timely, constructive & clear
6. Grades accurately measure learning
7. Diverse points of view are respected.
8. I would recommend this course.

In 2011 I was still getting feedback that I was fun and dynamic.  Sadly, I was also still getting feedback that certain course aspects of my work needed better organization (my coursepack for public speaking -- I've never gotten it quite right).   And in spite of my flagging late 50s energy, the public speaking bootcamp was still getting high marks.  After the question "most valuable aspects of the course" one student wrote, "Everything. . . speech bootcamp is the way to go to take SP 111!" 

Over the years I've been teaching I've paid far more attention to the negative comments than the positive ones.  This is partially because, as a human, I'm programmed to do so.  [It's the old evolutionary deal with not seeing the tiger being more costly than not seeing the berries.]  But also because the negative comments give me something to work on.  I've consistently adjusted my teaching over the years based on those student comments which are specific enough to give provide ways to better deliver my product.  Of course, I've only made changes when more than one student complained about a particular aspect of my teaching or of the class, and only when that complaint seemed pertinent.  When adjustments, to classes or myself, seemed appropriate, I sometimes used them as a source of ideas for my Professional Improvement Plans.

Of course, sometimes student comments are just wack.   Like the comment from a speech class in fall 2011 about me showing a picture of a naked man on the first day of class.  This did not happen.  I did have a slide of a man holding a large appropriately placed leaf over his hips and naughty bits in my lecture on visual aids (with the comment that people should pay attention to audience standards for taste and decorum) but that picture didn't appear until halfway through the quarter.  Perhaps that was that particular student's first day.  And then there are all those classes in which one student will write that I show respect to everyone in class and another, in the same class, will say that I'm narrow-minded.

One student, writing in Winter, 1989 SP 112 wrote:  "These evaluations are rather ridiculous.  All they actually do is evaluate how the students are doing in a class.  I.e., IF the student is getting an "A" the instructor will, more than likely, do well in evaluation.  If a student is doing poorly -- the instructor, in his/her eyes, must be unorganized -- unfair -- uninterested, etc.  I think these should be abolished!"

While I wrote very similar comments on teacher evaluations when I was a student at Idaho State, I came to disagree with that perspective.  Student evals are often actually helpful.  And, when I was feeling down about a class, they often cheered me up with their positive comments about how I cared about the topics, was knowledgeable, and was fair and caring.  (And the occasional notes about my hairstyle or shoes du jour.)

Now, as I review the positive identity messages in these old evaluations, I understand what my therapist means about the part of the job I'll be sad about leaving.  I really haven't been allowing that to sink in.  I will miss having a positive impact on others.  I will miss the empowerment inherent in public speaking and interpersonal communication.  I will miss the fun of the classroom performance and meeting the challenge of the bootcamp.  And of course I will miss having people say nice things about me in writing.

But not for long.