The Way We Sit: Physical and Social Structures of Classrooms

                I hate our classrooms.  More specifically, I hate the furniture in our classrooms.

                Rarely do I use the word “hate,” and I don’t use it lightly.  Why, at an “enlightened” institution of higher education, do we insist on herding our students into each room like cattle to the slaughter, lining them up in rows (where all but those in the front row get a fantastic vista of the back of someone else’s head), then shoot them down with our intellectual bullets (otherwise known as lecture)?

                And to compound the situation, for those who would like to rearrange the aforementioned  classroom accoutrements, a month’s worth of weight training is required to be able to move the bulky, awkward tables, and in many rooms a sign is posted, “If you move the furniture, please return it to its original position.”  (I really have no problem returning those awkward slabs to their previous locations; however, the presence of that sign is a concrete indication of how engrained this practice is!)   Now the instructor doesn’t have to go to the gym, because a complete workout has been accomplished before and after class—sweat not withstanding.

                So why, after decades and decades of educational research telling us that, in most cases, straight lecture is NOT the most effective teaching method (just ask any student), and that such militaristic seating arrangements do not encourage student interaction (which studies show is directly related to success and retention), do we continue to allocate our precious dollars to equipment that works against learning?  More to the point, why do we, as instructors, continue to acquiesce to (and thereby support) these strategies?

                Several reasons come to mind.  The first is found in the axiom, “We teach the way we’ve been taught.”  While this is not totally true for everyone, most all of us were schooled in this manner—from First Grade on up.  (In my opinion, preschools and Kindergartens have it right—circle time, sitting on pillows or working at interest stations. Adults actually enjoy learning that way, too!)  Sitting—passively—in rows, taking notes has been our modus operandi for our entire academic experience.  Probably each of us has experienced an “exception” to that rule, and we thought it was really cool!  But we fail to reproduce that experience for our own students, settling for more conventional (and honestly, less physically strenuous) approaches.  In short, walking into a classroom and standing up front—the sage on the stage, with our charges perched in neat lines –is HABIT.  And expected (yes, even by our students).  But don’t we almost always, at least in real life, learn MORE from the unexpected?

                Another reason is, well… to be honest, it’s just too much dang work (not to mention it may consume precious class time) to do all that manual labor.  I fall prey to this excuse—you won’t often (at least not as often as I feel optimal) find me reconfiguring the classroom gear.  It means getting to the room early and staying late, with little help (since many students need to get to their next class and students are coming in for the one right after mine).  In my case, the furniture itself acts as a deterrent to doing what I know is really BEST for my students.  I am somewhat ashamed to admit this, but it’s true.

                So WHAT IF our classrooms were equipped so that our students could look at each other eye to eye, so that they could move around gracefully to form groups and pods to tackle important questions together, so they could more easily engage in the kind of Socratic dialogue and cooperative learning that begets a truly valuable educational experience?  WHAT IF my students came to expect the unexpected when they walked into the classroom; stimulating their anticipation of experiencing something new from the very first second of the class period?

                WHAT IF I could move the tables without herniating a disc in my lumbar, and instructors would applaud—rather than criticize—efforts to at least try something new?

                WHAT IF we didn't wait ten years for a campus master plan to…

Escaping the Medieval Castle: Toward a Meaningful Grading System

                After almost 30 years of teaching, I am still haunted every semester by the specter of grading.  I feel trapped in this medieval castle, where all the secret doors, tunnels and escape routes are labeled with huge As, Bs, Cs, Ds or Fs.  

               I anguish over an 89 percent versus a 91 percent.  I wonder aloud at the purpose of grades.  Are they really for students?  Employers? University Admissions committees? Scholarship boards? In the big picture and long run, does our grading system really serve our students’ learning?  Or by it are we inculcating behaviors that move them to be automatons, slaves to what they think instructors want rather than focusing on conquering ideas and skills that would be really helpful?  Does our current system really motivate students to learn, or is it a system of punishments and rewards that  ultimately teaches our students how to “play the system,” and even cheat to succeed?

                What if we could make grading less punitive, and more about mastering the concepts we so much want them to learn?  In this vein, I have been experimenting the last couple of semesters.  Here’s the gist of my modified grading system:

1.  There are four possible grades:  A, B, C and U.  (The “U” carries all the negative consequences of a failing grade, without the disastrous GPA consequences.)

2.  Students need to complete 90%  of the coursework at an acceptable level to pass the class, else they receive a “U.”

3.  If an assignment is submitted that is NOT up to standards, it is returned (with comments and suggestions), and can be resubmitted within three weeks of the original due date.  Students can resubmit assignments as many times as they want or need to in order to “get” the concept.

4.  Student whose first submission of  90% of their work is on time (that is, 80% of all assignments) receive the highest grade.

                The big pro to this method is that it encourages mastery learning, not just going through motions to meet some arbitrary point value.  Also, as an instructor, I don’t have to struggle over microscopic differences in points—students either master the concept or they get another shot.

                The big con is that I do more grading. But this really has two hidden pros:  My grading goes faster because I’m not slavishly agonizing over minutiae, and I am more confident that my students are actually LEARNING!

                No grading system is perfect, and this one certainly is not.  But neither is it as capricious, arbitrary or punitive.   And most of all, it focuses on learning, not grades.  So far, students seem to be rising to the challenge, and appreciating the opportunity to really learn!