Education Barriers: Access Limitations - Part III
POORLY PLANNED PROGRAMS OF INSTRUCTION
Since the emphasis of our institutions is not on what occurs in the classroom, the quality of programs of instruction—the curriculum—is sub-standard at best in most institutions. The focus is on the survival of the administration of these institutions, rather than the end-product: students that graduate with expertise, skills, knowledge and abilities within a professional discipline. The best illustration of this as fact is in the constant debates on teacher preparation.
For a couple of decades the curriculum that prepares students to be teachers has been at the center of great debates. We have seen ideology and unfounded experimentation at the base of our educational curriculum. We have taught whole language approaches while ignoring classroom management. We have focused on cultural diversity while disregarding foundational skills, creativity and authentic learning. We have emphasized the myths of false self-esteem while overlooking that which creates a genuine sense of self-esteem: achievement despite adversity. We have focused on the profession rather than being professional. We have ignored research regarding what works and allowed fads to drive the profession. We have emphasized the institution over the student. In short, we have lost what the Japanese martial artists call “Do” (the path; the way; the truth).
But it is not only in the field of education that we see these dynamics of the lost. We see the same patterns in science, engineering, medicine, nursing, management, social work, psychology… and the list continues. Decisions about what courses are required in a program of study are no longer made according to what establishes the highest standards in the profession and of the professional, but according to what generates the most revenue for the institution. Our institutions do not allow for intellectual exploration or academic freedom. Our colleges, universities, and vocational institutions are politically correct and driven by the culturally relativistic ideologies of the day. Institutional reviews, accreditation and evaluation of the quality of our students are no longer seeking the highest quality possible, but instead are striving for the minimum standards possible. We do not expect our students to strive for the fullness of learning, merely the attainment of the sheepskin that leads to employment and an upwardly mobile career path… or so we hope.
Then, too, we have become rigid in our curriculum. We do not effectively incorporate well-established research into the curriculum. The rigidity of our curriculum does not allow students to take existing knowledge and build upon it. The master degree—which at one time meant a person was contributing fully to a profession and to all professionals—has become a meaningless exercise in the tedious task of “paying our dues” so that we can claim “membership.” The curriculum has become a gatekeeper for the elite rather than an opportunity for the gifted, talented or visionary person. We no longer seek the Einsteins of the world—those who do what they do for the love of doing it—but settle for those that seek power, control and influence. We are not using the curriculum as a tool for leadership, collaboration and innovation, but more as a whip to keep others in check.
A colleague of mine was seeking a doctoral degree at a prestigious university in Boston. In the process, as a friend and colleague, I assisted with this person’s research and thinking processes regarding the use of technology in education. After working several years as a part-time student, my colleague achieved the degree. Some time later the only comment my colleague could offer was that the end achievement felt empty and hollow because, despite the hard work, the process did not contribute to greater good. Despite having achieved the coveted doctoral degree in a field that was once of great interest, there was now a drive to retire from the profession because of a profound lack of fulfillment and disillusionment. It was a shock to my colleague that once “membership” was achieved there was a complete lack of collegiality, leadership and principle among the professionals that were now peers.
It is our curriculum—and the manner in which we implement it—that dictates whether or not we bring forth innovation, breakthroughs and good. Our failure in the curriculum is a failure in first principles.
Further, our colleges and other institutions of higher learning have all the research and methods of adult learning mapped out, but fail to implement them. Teaching adults is just as much a developmental process as teaching children, pre-adolescents and adolescents. There are different modalities of learning, behavior and reaction to the teacher-student relationships. The research on neurology that could serve to guide us in our methods of teaching seem to have little application for the vast majority of higher education instructors. The number of instructors employing multimedia and technology is on the rise, but most higher level instructors and administrators still suffer from a profound sense of technophobia. There are some very fine instructors, and the really great ones do not need multimedia. But there are also some very horrible teachers, and some that could be great teachers with some coaching, exposure to some effective teaching research, and some incentive to focus on the classroom. Unfortunately, the administration of a school is more focused on meeting the political agendas than on making sure the curriculum genuinely imparts knowledge, provides an effective and professional learning experience, and prepares all students enrolled for the field in which they hope to become members.
A couple of examples to illustrate the point. In my own college experience that academic chair for the Psychology Department, and practically the only instructor for most psychology classes, held a Ph.D. in Clinical Psychology, was the clinical director for a group home where I worked as a counselor, and was also an ordained Pentecostal minister with his own church. He also taught some of the theology courses on Protestant Denominations. His politics and emphasis were conservative, evangelical Christian, and quite out of touch with more recent issues in Psychology. In the clinical staff meetings he would oppose any approach that did not meet with his theological ideology, despite clinical and research evidence in support of it. He opposed the use of a sports group treatment modality because it was not in keeping with the exact methods he himself used. Other than the work at the group home, his teaching and ministry were the only other areas of professional practice.
He decided to offer a course on Stress Management as a crossover course for the Management, Psychology and Social Work departments. His favorite area of focus for this course was the deep breathing relaxation techniques. His emphasis was so great that he insisted on doing some of these exercises every class. By the end of the first hour of a three-hour class session, he would be asleep and snoring loud enough to be heard from the halls, even with the door closed. Since he was difficult to awaken, students would leave, disgruntled about yet another class where this instructor was sleeping rather than teaching. When the word of this behavior was reported in student newspaper reports and commentaries on the value of the curriculum and the high cost of tuition, the administration actually threatened to stop funding the newspaper activities. While the threat was veiled to disguise itself from the legal ramifications, it was a real threat and it was perceived. Rather than address the genuine concerns about what was occurring in the classroom, the administration attempted to redirect (with whatever means available) the attention to the problem. Eventually, the dean had to deal with this instructor, but it took months before that was in motion.
A colleague in a Philosophy Department at a state college in Massachusetts had to deal with a department chair that was a vice-president with the faculty union, had risen to prominence state-wide as a member of the union, was a staunch much-to-the-left liberal, that was more focused on building a following a following among his students than actually teaching content. He was a full professor with tenure, with the power of the union backing his moves, and his teaching sucked. His students walked out of his classroom knowing that if they agreed with his views and laughed at his jokes, a good grade was to be had without a lot of work. His quizzes were often limited to 10 multiple-choice items under open-book/open-resource conditions. His exams were nothing more than a combination of his quiz questions. His syllabi and class notes had not changed in the last 10-15 years. He taught until his retirement, which was preceded by his promotion to an administrator 6-months before submitting his papers.
In a similar situation at another state college, in the Philosophy Department, a professor was having obvious mental health issues and dealing with the cancer treatment (and eventual death) being experienced by his wife. He would have episodes where he would be demonstrating mild psychotic symptoms like echolalia, word salad, disheveled appearance, self-reports of hallucinations to students, and manic behaviors in class. While teaching on the topic of existentialism he invited a 50-plus year old woman who billed herself as “the dancing doctor” and went around dancing during her guest lectures and appearances in the media. Her topic of lecture had no particular value to the field of philosophy, never mind even aesthetics or existentialism, but she was an oddity that got the students giggling. Later it was discovered that the “dancing doctor” and the “on-the-verge” professor were passionately involved and she was getting the guest lecture opportunities so that she could earn some income from his ability to abuse the system.
Another professor I experienced taught World Literature. He was a rigid ultra-conservative that saw no room for anything with which he did not agree. He, too, was the academic chair. There were numerous problems with his teaching approach. Not the least of the issues he presented involved a 300 item multiple-choice final exam he used at the end of his course. It was not the number of questions that was problematic. It had more to do with the requirement that every student be able to remember every passage from the reading assignments. We are not talking about rote memorization of the more meaningful and often quoted passages, but we are talking about “on page 234, the second sentence of the third paragraph reads _______.” He would list several passages from the text and you would have to pick a sentence and hope that it was correct. Then, too, he had fifty items that were written in foreign languages. He might have a question quoting a passage from a reading assignment in Italian, Latin, French, Spanish or Greek (using Greek alphabet).
In one of my working experiences I had an administrator actually insist that I decrease the complexity of my lectures and the difficulty of my exams. When I questioned the logic of doing so, she told me that students were complaining that they were learning “too much” in my classes in comparison to the other instructors. She could not take issue with the performance of my students because they were producing twice as many projects compared to other classes; the average exam grades were in the high 80s even though my students were complaining that my exams were the most difficult in the program; students that had been happy with a “C” for the course were achieving higher grades; and the failure rates for my classes were the lowest on campus. Given the strict rules on attendance, makeup requirements, missed quizzes and exams, and a no-nonsense drive for excellence, the students’ complaints were focused on “learning more than other teachers teach.” After another few months of seeing the work I was able to get students to do, that very same administrator used me as a mentor for other instructors. The result of the collaborative, mentor and collegial approach was an overall improvement of the classroom experience. But that very same process brought corporate administrators to the campus. Their presence on campus brought their input from on-high without any real understanding of what was occurring. Several times the faculty had to fight to keep this collegial approach in the works. Again, it was the statistics of improvement that forced the hands of these administrators.
Improvements to the classroom experience, presentation of the curriculum, and methods of teaching meet with overwhelming resistance that stems from political and ideological entrenchment over a pursuit of excellence in learning. There are numerous professionals examining what works in the classroom and what works for curriculum planning. We are not, however, employing that knowledge and expertise in the teacher-student relationship or experience.
November 13, 2005
Since the emphasis of our institutions is not on what occurs in the classroom, the quality of programs of instruction—the curriculum—is sub-standard at best in most institutions. The focus is on the survival of the administration of these institutions, rather than the end-product: students that graduate with expertise, skills, knowledge and abilities within a professional discipline. The best illustration of this as fact is in the constant debates on teacher preparation.
For a couple of decades the curriculum that prepares students to be teachers has been at the center of great debates. We have seen ideology and unfounded experimentation at the base of our educational curriculum. We have taught whole language approaches while ignoring classroom management. We have focused on cultural diversity while disregarding foundational skills, creativity and authentic learning. We have emphasized the myths of false self-esteem while overlooking that which creates a genuine sense of self-esteem: achievement despite adversity. We have focused on the profession rather than being professional. We have ignored research regarding what works and allowed fads to drive the profession. We have emphasized the institution over the student. In short, we have lost what the Japanese martial artists call “Do” (the path; the way; the truth).
But it is not only in the field of education that we see these dynamics of the lost. We see the same patterns in science, engineering, medicine, nursing, management, social work, psychology… and the list continues. Decisions about what courses are required in a program of study are no longer made according to what establishes the highest standards in the profession and of the professional, but according to what generates the most revenue for the institution. Our institutions do not allow for intellectual exploration or academic freedom. Our colleges, universities, and vocational institutions are politically correct and driven by the culturally relativistic ideologies of the day. Institutional reviews, accreditation and evaluation of the quality of our students are no longer seeking the highest quality possible, but instead are striving for the minimum standards possible. We do not expect our students to strive for the fullness of learning, merely the attainment of the sheepskin that leads to employment and an upwardly mobile career path… or so we hope.
Then, too, we have become rigid in our curriculum. We do not effectively incorporate well-established research into the curriculum. The rigidity of our curriculum does not allow students to take existing knowledge and build upon it. The master degree—which at one time meant a person was contributing fully to a profession and to all professionals—has become a meaningless exercise in the tedious task of “paying our dues” so that we can claim “membership.” The curriculum has become a gatekeeper for the elite rather than an opportunity for the gifted, talented or visionary person. We no longer seek the Einsteins of the world—those who do what they do for the love of doing it—but settle for those that seek power, control and influence. We are not using the curriculum as a tool for leadership, collaboration and innovation, but more as a whip to keep others in check.
A colleague of mine was seeking a doctoral degree at a prestigious university in Boston. In the process, as a friend and colleague, I assisted with this person’s research and thinking processes regarding the use of technology in education. After working several years as a part-time student, my colleague achieved the degree. Some time later the only comment my colleague could offer was that the end achievement felt empty and hollow because, despite the hard work, the process did not contribute to greater good. Despite having achieved the coveted doctoral degree in a field that was once of great interest, there was now a drive to retire from the profession because of a profound lack of fulfillment and disillusionment. It was a shock to my colleague that once “membership” was achieved there was a complete lack of collegiality, leadership and principle among the professionals that were now peers.
It is our curriculum—and the manner in which we implement it—that dictates whether or not we bring forth innovation, breakthroughs and good. Our failure in the curriculum is a failure in first principles.
Further, our colleges and other institutions of higher learning have all the research and methods of adult learning mapped out, but fail to implement them. Teaching adults is just as much a developmental process as teaching children, pre-adolescents and adolescents. There are different modalities of learning, behavior and reaction to the teacher-student relationships. The research on neurology that could serve to guide us in our methods of teaching seem to have little application for the vast majority of higher education instructors. The number of instructors employing multimedia and technology is on the rise, but most higher level instructors and administrators still suffer from a profound sense of technophobia. There are some very fine instructors, and the really great ones do not need multimedia. But there are also some very horrible teachers, and some that could be great teachers with some coaching, exposure to some effective teaching research, and some incentive to focus on the classroom. Unfortunately, the administration of a school is more focused on meeting the political agendas than on making sure the curriculum genuinely imparts knowledge, provides an effective and professional learning experience, and prepares all students enrolled for the field in which they hope to become members.
A couple of examples to illustrate the point. In my own college experience that academic chair for the Psychology Department, and practically the only instructor for most psychology classes, held a Ph.D. in Clinical Psychology, was the clinical director for a group home where I worked as a counselor, and was also an ordained Pentecostal minister with his own church. He also taught some of the theology courses on Protestant Denominations. His politics and emphasis were conservative, evangelical Christian, and quite out of touch with more recent issues in Psychology. In the clinical staff meetings he would oppose any approach that did not meet with his theological ideology, despite clinical and research evidence in support of it. He opposed the use of a sports group treatment modality because it was not in keeping with the exact methods he himself used. Other than the work at the group home, his teaching and ministry were the only other areas of professional practice.
He decided to offer a course on Stress Management as a crossover course for the Management, Psychology and Social Work departments. His favorite area of focus for this course was the deep breathing relaxation techniques. His emphasis was so great that he insisted on doing some of these exercises every class. By the end of the first hour of a three-hour class session, he would be asleep and snoring loud enough to be heard from the halls, even with the door closed. Since he was difficult to awaken, students would leave, disgruntled about yet another class where this instructor was sleeping rather than teaching. When the word of this behavior was reported in student newspaper reports and commentaries on the value of the curriculum and the high cost of tuition, the administration actually threatened to stop funding the newspaper activities. While the threat was veiled to disguise itself from the legal ramifications, it was a real threat and it was perceived. Rather than address the genuine concerns about what was occurring in the classroom, the administration attempted to redirect (with whatever means available) the attention to the problem. Eventually, the dean had to deal with this instructor, but it took months before that was in motion.
A colleague in a Philosophy Department at a state college in Massachusetts had to deal with a department chair that was a vice-president with the faculty union, had risen to prominence state-wide as a member of the union, was a staunch much-to-the-left liberal, that was more focused on building a following a following among his students than actually teaching content. He was a full professor with tenure, with the power of the union backing his moves, and his teaching sucked. His students walked out of his classroom knowing that if they agreed with his views and laughed at his jokes, a good grade was to be had without a lot of work. His quizzes were often limited to 10 multiple-choice items under open-book/open-resource conditions. His exams were nothing more than a combination of his quiz questions. His syllabi and class notes had not changed in the last 10-15 years. He taught until his retirement, which was preceded by his promotion to an administrator 6-months before submitting his papers.
In a similar situation at another state college, in the Philosophy Department, a professor was having obvious mental health issues and dealing with the cancer treatment (and eventual death) being experienced by his wife. He would have episodes where he would be demonstrating mild psychotic symptoms like echolalia, word salad, disheveled appearance, self-reports of hallucinations to students, and manic behaviors in class. While teaching on the topic of existentialism he invited a 50-plus year old woman who billed herself as “the dancing doctor” and went around dancing during her guest lectures and appearances in the media. Her topic of lecture had no particular value to the field of philosophy, never mind even aesthetics or existentialism, but she was an oddity that got the students giggling. Later it was discovered that the “dancing doctor” and the “on-the-verge” professor were passionately involved and she was getting the guest lecture opportunities so that she could earn some income from his ability to abuse the system.
Another professor I experienced taught World Literature. He was a rigid ultra-conservative that saw no room for anything with which he did not agree. He, too, was the academic chair. There were numerous problems with his teaching approach. Not the least of the issues he presented involved a 300 item multiple-choice final exam he used at the end of his course. It was not the number of questions that was problematic. It had more to do with the requirement that every student be able to remember every passage from the reading assignments. We are not talking about rote memorization of the more meaningful and often quoted passages, but we are talking about “on page 234, the second sentence of the third paragraph reads _______.” He would list several passages from the text and you would have to pick a sentence and hope that it was correct. Then, too, he had fifty items that were written in foreign languages. He might have a question quoting a passage from a reading assignment in Italian, Latin, French, Spanish or Greek (using Greek alphabet).
In one of my working experiences I had an administrator actually insist that I decrease the complexity of my lectures and the difficulty of my exams. When I questioned the logic of doing so, she told me that students were complaining that they were learning “too much” in my classes in comparison to the other instructors. She could not take issue with the performance of my students because they were producing twice as many projects compared to other classes; the average exam grades were in the high 80s even though my students were complaining that my exams were the most difficult in the program; students that had been happy with a “C” for the course were achieving higher grades; and the failure rates for my classes were the lowest on campus. Given the strict rules on attendance, makeup requirements, missed quizzes and exams, and a no-nonsense drive for excellence, the students’ complaints were focused on “learning more than other teachers teach.” After another few months of seeing the work I was able to get students to do, that very same administrator used me as a mentor for other instructors. The result of the collaborative, mentor and collegial approach was an overall improvement of the classroom experience. But that very same process brought corporate administrators to the campus. Their presence on campus brought their input from on-high without any real understanding of what was occurring. Several times the faculty had to fight to keep this collegial approach in the works. Again, it was the statistics of improvement that forced the hands of these administrators.
Improvements to the classroom experience, presentation of the curriculum, and methods of teaching meet with overwhelming resistance that stems from political and ideological entrenchment over a pursuit of excellence in learning. There are numerous professionals examining what works in the classroom and what works for curriculum planning. We are not, however, employing that knowledge and expertise in the teacher-student relationship or experience.
November 13, 2005
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