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.

23 Caring About (the performance of) Caring About Students

In last night's post I talked about how I don't worry about students.  Does that mean I don't care about them?  Well, yes and no.

"Yes," I don't carry concern about their personal lives into my own.

 But "no," I do care about their success in the work they do in my classes because I actually "believe" in the core communication courses.  And by belief I mean that I think (sometimes without any hard scientific data to back me up) that the skills I've taught in public speaking, interpersonal, and small group communication can actually make lives better, richer, more fulfilling and just happier.  I want my students to succeed in my classes because I believe the skills they learn will help them achieve greater success in their personal and work lives. 

Thus I also care about the experience they have in my classrooms.  I want my classrooms to feel safe to students.  This can be challenging because I'm teaching scary stuff -- I am asking them to change their lives and behaviors.  I'm asking them to try on new ways of being a person.  And, darn it all, I'm asking them to give speeches -- an activity Americans fear more than nuclear war!

One aspect of classroom safety is my student's belief that I care about them and that my concern will help them through the scary stuff.  That's why I show that I recognize the scariness of what I am teaching and even share with them my own severe communication apprehension in both the public speaking and interpersonal conflict situations. 

But caring isn't just about creating safety for the students.  It's also about creating safety for me.  A teacher who is perceived as uncaring will get critiqued on both student evaluations and in complaints filed with individuals higher up the academic food chain.  Believe me, I speak from experience on this.  Early on in my career at COCC I was perceived as not caring about student success. I occasionally received low scores on a teacher evaluation question that wondered whether or not the instructor cared. 

At first, I didn't think my caring about my students was actually important.  They were adults, I reasoned.  They could make decisions on their own.  They were free.  Why should I have to show a caring I didn't necessarily feel?

But it turns out that student perception of teacher caring IS important to teaching.  A variety of studies have shown a strong links among college student perceptions of teacher caring and student success.  In "The Effect ofTeacher Confirmation on Student Communication and Learning Outcomes," published in Communication Education in 2007, Alan K. Goodboy & Scott A. Myers manipulated the amount of "confirming communication" displayed by teachers during test lectures.  Confirming communication is messages, either verbal or nonverbal, that show the other person in the interaction, in this case the students who were the subjects of the study, that they are valued.  Goodboy and Myers used surveys to assess student ideas perceptions of three aspects of teacher credibility --  competence, character and caring -- based on the staged lectures..  They then asked the students how they would respond to such teachers and also tested the students on traditional learning outcomes.  The researchers found that students actually learned more from people they perceived as having better characters and being more caring.

"Collectively, results indicated that teacher confirmation resulted in . . . (b)more student participation, (c) less challenge behavior, and (d) greater cognitive learning, affective learning, state motivation, and satisfaction."

A later study by Jason J. Teven & James C. McCroskey, published five years ago this month in Communication Education (2009) , found that, "'perceived caring' in the instructional context . . . were found to be substantially associated with the students' evaluation of their teachers, their affective learning, and their perceptions of their cognitive learning."

 Of course all this should raise a big "Duh" in anyone who teaches what I do.  And yet sometimes we are unable to assess our own behavior adequately.  And that's what peer teams are for!

So after I figured out that the perception of my caring was very important for my student's success (as well as for my own success at the institution), I started managing it in a variety of ways, including the following.

1. By saying out loud in class, "I care about your success."
2. By using confirming communication behaviors, especially with students who complained to me.
3.  By encouraging students to argue about their grades if they ever thought that I had made an error in my assessments of their performances.
4.  By setting clear boundaries in the syllabus about the kinds of arguments about grading that "count."  I only allow arguments based on the criteria for the assignment in question.  I don't want to hear that people worked hard or that they have hard lives and I explain how neither of those issues is related to whether or not a performance is successful.
5. For many many years I had a "midterm review" in my courses.   I wrote two labels on the board.  On one side I wrote, "What I like about this class" and on the other side I wrote, "This class would be better if..."  Then I asked for a student volunteer to run a feedback session.  The volunteer was to write student responses on the board underneath each phrase.  The volunteer was also to mark with a star any comment offered by more than one person.  I would leave the room.  When the class was finished with its discussion, I went in and dealt with any problems or criticisms that came up.  
6. Through the performance of "immediacy behaviors:"  According the trainer Kelly Rocca,   "Non-verbal immediacy includes behaviors such as smiling, gesturing, eye contact and having relaxed body language. Verbal immediacy refers to calling the students by name, using humor and encouraging student input and discussion."
7. By doing lots of mind and heart work around the idea that the classroom is not all about me.  This includes detaching from my ego investment in both the material and my presenting self.  (For more information about how to commit completely to a set of behaviors without being ego involved, see The Bhagavad-Gita.)
8. By having very clear instructions for anything receiving a grade and being open to alternative interpretations of the language of the instructions.
9. I admit to errors when I make them and am very clear about how human I am.
10. I apologize when I make a mistake or if I say anything that injures anyone's feelings.

As you can see, I've put time into building a more user-friendly "revenue-producing-unit," or, in other words, being a more caring professional.  And it has turned out well.  The scores on my evaluations went up as students felt safer and more cared for in my classes.  As they became happier, I became happier.  Like a room without a roof.

LY #135 Following Directions and Dissertating

A. Ray Olpin Student Union, U of Utah

Today is the first day of my last spring break.  I just posted my grades into Banner, now operating under the friendly appellation of "Bobcat Web."  (Banner is the super software that runs the school.)

Although I had many friendly, likable students, this wasn't my favorite quarter ever, as previous posts will attest.  Besides the poor choices I made in delivering my classes, I also had students who were making poor choices.  For example, the failing students who asked me to clear them to drop the class.  I did so and then sent them emails telling them that they had to finish the process by contacting the admissions office.  They never did so I was giving out Fs this morning, something I don't like to do.  Or the student who wanted an incomplete but who was not willing to fill out the incomplete contract form in order to get the "I" on the transcript.  And finally there were the students who seemed to choose not to read the directions for assignments. 

Why do people choose not to read the directions or not to follow the directions?  I  usually put everything a student needs to know about what is required for an assignment in the assignment directions.  When I don't, I'm always ready to hear student arguments about their grades.  I used to work with another teacher at COCC who would say, "I can't say what an 'A' speech is but I know it when I see it."  I thought this was and is a deeply immoral way of managing classroom economics.  Students should be able to figure out just what they need to do to get an A.  What I can't figure out is why students with grade concerns don't read the directions.  So, this wasn't a great quarter.

But it doesn't compare with the horrible winter of 1993.  I was reminded of that quarter last night when I went out to dinner at the Tumalo Feed Company with my friend Carolyn.  She said when we first met, "You didn't like me."

I begged to differ.  I said, "I may have been brusque and rude, but I didn't not like you.  I can just be an asshole sometimes."

She said that at the time I was really focused on my dissertation.  And then I remembered that period and realized, though I didn't want to say, that I probably wasn't thinking about anyone but myself at the time.  That was the winter when I got my worst ever student evaluations.  I believe that one reasons for the low evaluations was that  I was focused on defending my doctoral dissertation and also editing my only journal article based on one of its chapters.  

The defense marked the end of a long struggle with my doctoral committee and chair.  I wasn't sure I was going to make it.  The academic hazing that would not be complete until I survived two hours of questions.  I knew that the 350 pages of writing weren't going to stand up for themselves and that I  needed to prove that I was worthy of entering the gang.  Even as I was flying down to Utah (not as fun as Flying Down to Rio) my Chair was calling my spouse trying to get him to stop me because one member of the committee was having a family emergency.  Once I got to Utah and checked in I found that the defense had to be moved up a day.  So I unscheduled and rescheduled a room in the Olpin Union and ordered coffee and a fruit and pastry plate.  Then, on a Friday or Saturday morning (I forget which) I got to the union early and placed 4 talismans (good luck charms) in the four corners of the room.  Oh, yes, I was calling on all possible forces to aid me in my endeavor.  I remember that Dr. Fox met me at the Olpin coffee shop both before and after the defense, each time giving me a hug - the first for good luck and the second as "Congratulations!"

So the academic pressures I was under that winter sadly slid into my classrooms.  I was quite cranky and sarcastic at times.  Oh my, did I get some low low scores.  Deservedly so.

This morning after I input grades I looked for those two-decades-past evaluations so that I could share them with you.  A cursory examination of the appropriate file drawer did not reveal the 1993 forms.  I did see some from earlier and later in my career.   That led me to think about what I'll be doing with those files.  Perhaps I'll share some on my return from break and then burn them.

On Monday, March 31, I'll start the final countdown of my last 55 working days.