Historian and professor Vaughn Scribner explains Achieve in his own words and why it's changed his classroom for the better. ... View more

We’ve had the good fortune this calendar year of welcoming two new faculty to our department, both of whom are newly-minted PhDs. Having fresh f aces to interact with has added energy to our department while also making us all a bit more aware of how important it is to “check in” on one another.    As we met in our opening-day department meeting I reflected on my first faculty meeting as an assistant professor on the tenure track in 2007. Diversity in hiring has been a priority of my community college for some time now. On that day in 2007, however, I was one of only two female faculty in a department of 15. Sixteen years later our department of 18 full-time faculty includes seven women and six people of color. We are the most diverse department on campus and our students notice. Increasingly they see themselves reflected in their teachers and that is meaningful. So many of our students are first-generation college students and seeing a diverse faculty provides them with examples of who they could become. They look to us as examples for their professional careers and to share with us the challenges they are facing as students and human beings.    I sent texts to our new faculty members a few days into the school year just to “check in”: how is it so far? What challenges are you facing? One commented that they were having trouble asking for assistance from our wonderfully helpful administrative assistant because in their head they were “still a graduate student.” We chatted about this transition from student to faculty, which gave me an opportunity to think about my own experiences so many years ago.   As we start this new semester, check in on your colleagues – young and old, new and seasoned. Yesterday one of our younger faculty members stopped by my office to ask how my semester is going. The “ask” gave me an opportunity to vent about a frustrating interaction with a student and I felt noticeably lighter when the conversation ended.    So this year, as always, whether it’s online in the Macmillan Community or in our brick and mortar offices, we as faculty can be amazing allies and support for each other. Keep your doors open and remember to keep checking in. ... View more

This week I had the opportunity to participate in New Student Welcome Day at my college. Beyond helping them to learn the ins and outs of the campus, the students were introduced to the college’s Pathways program and had the opportunity to eat lunch with a faculty member who teaches within their chosen academic path.    Participation in such a program by faculty is always voluntary at my community college. For me, New Student Days are an important way to help forge a personal connection to the physical space of the college while also being introduced to the intellectual shift that needs to take place as they become college students. While the idea behind the lunch was to provide students an opportunity to talk about possible career paths available to them with specific majors, the best part of the experience for me was listening to the general concerns that the student expressed.    I participated in this week’s event as a “history professor” but in reality what the students needed was a safe space in which to ask what they deemed “stupid questions.” This realization occurred about five minutes into my lunch group’s discussion when a student interrupted my talk about academic majors to ask what the difference is between calling an instructor “Professor” versus “Mr. or Mrs.” What followed was a series of “This is a dumb question but ….”    I was reminded during that one-hour discussion that many of my students are first-generation college attendees. Unlike myself, they did not grow up hearing their parents tell stories about college experiences. They likely do not keep one of their father’s college textbooks on their bookshelves like I do – a relic of my father’s life as a young man but also evidence of my family’s history of higher education. I don’t remember ever wondering why college-level teachers are called “professors” … but I do have memories of my father describing a particularly difficult professor at the institution we both attended.    As much as I tried to talk about career paths, what the students wanted was to discuss the basics: schedule, calendar, textbooks, bookstore, and general interaction with faculty. In other words, they could not yet envision career paths because they need to get over this first hurdle of experiencing the environment of college.   As we prepare for the first days of the new semester, let's try to hold some extra space and empathy in our hearts for those young people who are very likely to soar academically, but only after they stumble the first few weeks in an environment that is entirely foreign to them. Recognize that what feels so natural to those of us who teach, may feel cumbersome and riddled with anxiety to a person who has no previous connection to higher education. In other words, while our expertise may lie in an academic area, many young people need us more simply to be their bridge to that space that is unknown and uncomfortable. Best wishes for the new academic year!  ... View more

Even after teaching college students for twenty-plus years, I'm still searching every summer for tips and tricks to make the upcoming year's courses more meaningful for both myself and my students. This summer I was fortunate to participate in an assessment workshop at my college to evaluate our student learning outcomes (SLOs). Faculty from nearly every academic department worked in small mixed-discipline groups to consider necessary changes to our SLOs and discuss implementation of changes during the upcoming academic year. At the conclusion of the workshop each group shared observations for their assigned SLO in a seminar-wide discussion.    The strongest take-away for me from this workshop was the importance of helping students to understand the “why” in my assignments. From the simple (“why are we reading these textbook chapters?”) to the more complex (“why can’t we use unvetted web sites in our history research projects?”) it was demonstrated to me time and again as I listened to the challenges colleagues face in their classrooms that we as faculty need our students to buy-in to our assignments. They must see the value in completing the work as a component of their personal success rather than simply checking a box.    I’ve blogged before about the challenge of convincing students to engage with  assigned readings. Reality is that if students believe they can complete a course without reading the text, they will do so. My students are assigned various types of quizzes (Summative Chapter or Learning Curve) available with Achieve to prepare for class. While I can’t be certain that they have read every word of the chapter, I can generally see from their quiz grade whether the student has engaged even minimally with the material before coming to class. Having those quizzes combine to equal one exam grade gives some weight to the reading as well and undoubtedly increased the quality of class participation and discussion.   While many Macmillan Community members may already be familiar with the so-called TILT framework for creating course assignments, I am sharing the link this week because until this summer’s faculty seminar, TILT was a foreign concept to me. A research project originally begun at the University of Illinois-Urbana/Champaign, TILT provides a framework for transparency in student assignments. The web site linked in this blog provides an explanation of the framework as well as opportunities for faculty to participate in on-going research studies of student assignments. In our faculty seminar we shared assignments from previous semesters and made suggestions to each other, using the TILT concepts, for how our goals for SLOs could be better conveyed to students through our instructions. The experience was incredibly valuable! As you prepare for the semester ahead, TILT is just one more resource to consider adding to your academic tool box.   Tips for the new school year? Please share!   ... View more

If you’re anything like me and love summer movies, you might be excited for the upcoming release of “Barbie” (Warner Bros). And while I’m not going to claim there is any historical value in seeing the film, I do think that the mere existence of the film is a great opportunity for conversations with students about a variety of topics: the history of children’s toys, the history of childhood, as well as personal reflection and even nostalgia.   The character “Barbie” is no doubt iconic in American life. Since the 1950s millions of children worldwide have dressed their dolls, imagined life in their “Dream Houses,” and zoomed their Barbies in pink cars on playroom floors. The public debate about the image projected by Barbie has also been ever-present: a blonde haired, blue-eyed woman sculpted with an unrealistically “ideal” body. Over the years, Mattel has sought to mitigate Barbie’s image problem by creating new Barbies that are more diverse and seek to inspire girls, in particular, to believe that any dream is a possibility.    I’ve been reflecting on Barbie, and toys in general, as a potential topic for US history classes this week as marketing ramps up for the film’s release. As crazy as this claim may sound, I do not remember ever owning a Barbie. My mother assures me that this was not the case and that for a time as a child I was just as immersed in Barbie’s imaginary world as the rest of my cohort of 1970s-born American girls.   While I certainly don’t expect to remember everything from my personal history, I do have strong memories of my favorite childhood possession: a two-sided chalkboard. For a time as a child I remember my father writing very short stories (two or three sentences) on the board after I went to sleep at night so I could read them in the morning. My father was a history teacher then and I remember visiting his classroom and him letting me write on the board at the front of the room. I also vividly recall that later I lined up my stuffed animals in a classroom formation on my bedroom floor to teach them “lessons.”    My own children are grown (enough) that I can make connections between their professional goals and their childhood passions. My oldest, who was never without a colored pencil and a drawing pad, is now an illustrator. My youngest, who wrote stories for us that he “bound” with multiple rows of staples, is studying film and writing. When I reflect on these memories with my children and share the historical evidence of their youthful work, I’m reminded of how often our college students forget subjects/areas of interest that they were passionate about once they arrive in college. The focus on career/income goals often completely takes over any discussion of their actual interests.   So, back to “Barbie” … what if we ask our students to think about the toys that brought them joy as children and imagine a way in which they could find that same joy as they pursue career choices? An in-class assignment might include students conducting research on their favorite childhood toys – they might, like me, have to ask the adults who raised them for some insight. A student who loved Barbies or GI Joes, or Matchbox Cars, for example, could engage in the history of their chosen product, its controversies and evolution over time. Ultimately, however, we as teachers could ask them to think about how that toy provoked joy and what they are/could be doing in their lives today to find that same spark. Questions will be raised about their personal childhood histories while also considering some of the popular culture of the eras in which they were raised.   As a graduate student I took a seminar called “History of Childhood.” This experience was the first time I had ever considered the extent to which young people’s lives have changed dramatically over the course of history. The topic made me more conscious about including children’s experiences in my general US History classes – and recognizing those experiences as historically valid and meaningful.   So let's toy (sorry) with this question: has anyone out there in the Macmillan Community included a study of toys/childhood in their survey history courses? Please share. ... View more

My summer term students were taking their final exam for US History I today when the Supreme Court announced the ruling that effectively ends affirmative action in college admissions. I can’t help but wonder about the long-term impact of the decision for community college students like mine, many of whom come from disadvantaged school districts where most residents are non-white. The two years of free community college provided to new high school graduates by the state in which I teach is only a small step towards closing the enormous economic gaps that exist in our socio-economic hierarchy. The reality is that nearly all well-paying jobs require a four-year degree nowadays. Every May as I watch students walk across the stage in jubilation as they receive their hard-earned associates degrees, I can’t help but think about all the academic and economic challenges that still lie ahead.   How, then, do we talk about the SCOTUS decision to our students of color? I long ago embraced the ideology of “teaching the truth.” Students in my classes reckon with the horrible realities of our history and the ways in which racial discrimination and notions of white supremacy have shaped all of our national institutions. I emphasize to my students that we study subjects like chattel slavery, the destruction of indigenous communities, and the internment of Japanese-Americans so that we can remind ourselves that the so-called “playing field” of American life has never been even. People of color in the United States have historically struggled against discrimination and oppression, and many have achieved incredible successes in spite of historically-present roadblocks. Rather than feeling defeated by those struggles, my students are often buoyed by the resilience of individuals and groups. These stories provide the students with a foundation from which to better understand the nation in which they live and, I hope, to recognize our nation is still a work in progress.   Now, however, my students face a new obstacle as they seek to transfer to four-year colleges. Race can no longer be considered in admissions, in spite of the fact that it is truly a factor in every aspect of American life and has been since the beginning of settlement in Jamestown, New Amsterdam, and Plymouth. I’m struggling with how to talk to students about this monumental decision. Many wonder how it will impact them individually. Will colleges that today are vowing to continue to strive for diverse student bodies be able to legally achieve their goals? Or will the hands of admissions committees be tied by the ruling? Anyone who has worked in a community college understands that it is simply impossible to ignore the harsh realities of growing up in non-white communities in America today, where educational opportunities for even our youngest children are not equal to those available in predominantly white neighborhoods. How do we keep students from being deterred by this ruling from pursuing their academic dreams? I feel fortunate to have two months to mull over the implications of this monumental decision before my students return to the classroom.   Conversation welcome. ... View more

In previous blogs I’ve mentioned that I use inclusive access in all of my on-campus and online classes. Some faculty are not familiar with this practice and have asked me to share some observations of this (relatively) new academic tool. Contained in this blog are my personal views with the caveat that some colleges/faculty have not adopted inclusive access for a number of reasons. My intent is not to debate the practice but to share the overwhelmingly positive experience I’ve had using inclusive access during the last three academic years.     Prior to the Pandemic our college had a traditional bookstore with both physical books and access codes available for students to purchase. As someone who has long used a publisher-based learning management system in conjunction with the one that my college provides to all students, I found the first couple weeks of class challenging. Students would need to purchase an access code and then connect to the publisher’s materials to get started with our course assignments. Although theoretically this task should be rather simple, it was unnecessarily difficult for a number  of reasons. The main stumbling point for my students was the use of financial aid at the bookstore. Many students did not adequately understand the financial aid process as it relates to book purchases and as a result missed key deadlines for getting course materials. These same students then missed assignments at the start of the semester.    In addition, some students struggled with the use of access codes. Again, we might see this as a non-issue in the 21st-century student’s life but the reality was something different. I had students lose codes, mis-type codes, choose the wrong text to which to match their code … all simple errors that resulted in a delay in the start of their participation in the course.   For me, the single greatest asset of inclusive access is having the course materials already loaded into our college’s learning management system on day one. My students, in fact, do not need to visit the bookstore for any of our course materials. Example: for US History I and II I use The American Promise with Achieve. I work with my Macmillan sales representative about two weeks before the start of classes to make the relevant connections (I’ll discuss these in a future blog) and when my students log in to our LMS they are already connected to needed materials. For those classes that meet in person I am able to show the students at our first meeting exactly where everything is. For online classes I provide an instructional video to show them where/how to find what they need.   This summer I am teaching a six week intensive US History I. Our IT department provided my students with laptops for our first meeting and they were able to immediately get working with course materials. No trip to the bookstore. No financial aid questions. The cost of the course materials is billed directly to the students with their tuition, which means no additional financial aid concerns/deadlines. Having no delay between the start of class and access to course materials meant that the very first week of class my students were able to read two chapters in the eBook and complete course assignments for both. This instant access has been extremely valuable this summer as we strive to complete an entire semester in six weeks.   I’d love to hear from those of you who have not yet tried inclusive access: what are your concerns? And those who have used it, what are your experiences? Please share. ... View more

Thanks to everyone who weighed in on a previous blog to share their use of Discussion Boards in online and on-campus classes. I particularly loved the suggestions for using the tool as an ungraded community center for online classes. The suggestions I received made me rethink how I will use the board in my summer and fall classes. Please continue to share your perspectives: Talk to Me About Discussion Board    This week I’m struggling with the challenge of the disappearing student. It’s the last week of classes and attendance is dwindling. While this is not atypical in my experience, this semester the problem seems particularly distressing. The students who are no longer coming to class are some of the stronger ones academically. These are students who did well on the midterm exam and consistently turned in assignments … until two weeks ago when everything seemed to stop.   Our college uses a retention tool called Starfish, which has been fabulous for keeping track of attendance and “flagging” students who are having academic or personal difficulties. I’ve been able to successfully connect several students to academic support this semester by referring them to our college Success Center through Starfish and the students seem to appreciate the ease at which they can schedule appointments with me through the same tool.   As a last ditch effort, this week I sent emails to students in which I pleaded with them to finish the course in which they have been doing so well. While I know full well that the students need to take ownership of their education, I truly hate to see any student give up so close to the end. I found myself offering extensions, extra help … anything to get the students across the proverbial finish line.   As the COVID-19 Pandemic is coming to an end I’m wondering if this student fatigue is fallout from the months and months of online learning many of my current first year college students experienced in high school. Some, for example, have complained that returning to in-person classes has reintroduced social pressures that were eased during the Pandemic.  Or, perhaps the argument for a quarter system (versus our current two-semester academic year) has some validity with the mindset of today’s students.    Thoughts? Suggestions?    ... View more

There is a photograph I keep on my desk of my oldest son when he was in kindergarten. We were attending an event at his school called “Bingo for Books” and he was excited about his winnings. The picture documents his five-year old self in a state of pure bliss: a juice box and Clifford the Big Red Dog spread in front of him on a cafeteria table. As a young mom of two boys, I had no idea at the moment that picture was taken how significant reading would be as a cornerstone of my children’s education.    Years later when I joined the faculty of a community college I realized very quickly what I should have already known: not everyone’s experience with books and reading mirrored that of my family. Teaching at a college where the threshold for taking a class is minimal (the equivalent of a high school diploma) I am reminded constantly how important reading is to our academic pursuits, no matter the field of study. The use of technology in classes, for example, has not reduced the amount of reading our students must do – while they might not hold many paper books in their hands nowadays, they are still regularly engaged in reading materials. And, for many of my students, this task is difficult.   Recently I’ve been integrating more primary source discussions into my US History II class meetings. In previous semesters I would assign the documents as part of their homework assignments. I was finding, however, that very few students were coming to class prepared to discuss. Even those who read the textbook chapter, for example, would express to me that they had struggled with the primary sources. This semester I have been regularly bringing to class paper copies of the sources and then breaking the students up into small groups. I provide them with two or three questions that focus on identifying the audience, argument, and significance of each document. Witnessing with my own eyes the students’ process as they grapple with material has been very informative. I’ve been able to watch them reading silently and listen to their conversations about the sources before I lead them in a full-class discussion based on what their groups have identified as the significance of each document.    In some ways the casual conversations I have overhead have been most informative: many of my students do not read anything beyond what is assigned to them for classes and they express to each other how difficult reading academic materials is for them. This knowledge has inspired me to increase the amount of in-class reading time for future classes. And, to encourage students to take advantage of the reading support initiatives available at our college. While I will continue to employ the group work, I am brainstorming other ways that silent reading time can be incorporated into my class meetings. Suggestions welcome!  ... View more

It feels as though every few weeks we educators in the United States are forced to reckon with an atrociously violent incident that is not only upsetting on a human level, but also has historical precedent with which we have to grapple as we seek some kind of meaningful discourse with our students.    This week I’m struggling with how best to address questions about the Tyre Nichols’s case. It’s fair to say that most of us have officially tired of the “thoughts and prayers” response to the seemingly never-ending horrors of gun violence, police brutality, and inadequate care for the mentally ill. We feel increasingly helpless as we have no concrete solutions to offer as we discuss these topics with our students. Do we focus the discussion on race? On police brutality? On the reality of how indistinguishable the two topics have become in the 21st century?   This most recent tragedy comes as educators in some parts of the country are being forced to mold their curriculums to the whims of politicians with no background in education, history, or any other content-area in which they seek to impose their political viewpoints. This week the College Board announced changes to its Advanced Placement African American Studies curriculum (see New York Times, 1 February 2023) seemingly in response to politicians in states where so-called “conservative” voices are working to erode the progress that has been made educating young people on race, gender, economics and history over the last thirty or so years. I write "so-called conservatives" because I personally do not believe that the delivery of historical content in a classroom needs to be either liberal or conservative. Historians share with all human beings the dilemma of personal bias. The best historians seek to find the truth in the evidence and help their students to uncover meaning and context.   It’s easy for me to deliver an inclusive curriculum in “blue” New England while colleagues in other parts of the country are increasingly being censored. I can’t help but feel, however, that we as a profession need to collectively do more.    What, then, is that “more”? What do our colleagues need from us in these curriculum content-battleground states?    I would love to hear from educators facing politically motivated content restrictions to their teaching. How are you addressing such issues with your students? What resources can we in other states offer to support you through these enormous challenges? Please share. ... View more

As the semester and calendar year draw to an end it’s a good time to reflect on the obstacles faced this academic year thus far and our hopes for the spring semester.    I’ll start with some not-so-fun observations: students are still struggling to reacclimate to in-person learning. In online educational forums there has been a lot of discussion about “learning loss.” For my community college students, the biggest disconnect has been deadlines, as in they don’t want them! During the pandemic pivot to all online learning our college faculty loosened deadlines and increased flexibility to account for student access to WiFi and other technology-related issues. Now that we are back on campus, I find myself having to explain to students why I need deadlines to help both them and me and stay on track throughout the semester. Recently I had to explain that it would be impossible for me – and a disservice to my students – to grade every assignment in the last week before final grades are due. I can’t remember ever having such a conversation in the pre-pandemic days. “Learning loss” in my experience has been less about content and more about the obligations of the student-teacher relationship: deadlines, expectations of regular attendance, and the encouragement of student note taking have required more of my attention than ever before.    On a positive note, however, the students that showed up this fall were especially engaged. In my US History I sections, for example, I had many eager learners who forged connections between what we were discussing in class and what is happening in the nation as a whole. The topic of post-Civil War Reconstruction, for example, was never better received than this semester as students recognized that there is a direct connection between the forms of racism and segregation that grew in the wake of abolition and the systemic problems we face as a nation today. Driven by student interest this semester I spent twice as much time examining Reconstruction as I did the Civil War, which is usually the topic of greatest interest in this course. Students engaged in discussion about the shortcomings of the Freedmen’s Bureau and the reactionary politics of white southerners as black men assumed leadership positions in the early stages of Reconstruction. They imagined how our society might have been different without the terror campaigns of the KKK and the exponential growth of white citizens councils in the former Confederate States. And, they offered ideas about what federal authorities might have done differently to prevent the restoration of white supremacist state governments. As the semester was ending, I found myself researching additional Reconstruction-related materials to share with future classes … more to come in a future blog.   In the coming year I would love to hear more from the Macmillan Community about both the successes and challenges faced in our history classrooms. Are there topics that you would like to discuss with fellow faculty? Books that you’ve found particularly meaningful either to read with students or to use for course preparation? If so, please share! ... View more

This week I had the privilege of being peer evaluated. Although I’m a tenured professor my college requires faculty to continue to follow an evaluation schedule after promotion. Every three years I complete a formal self-evaluation in addition to having a written evaluation by my department chair, and a classroom visit by a colleague. Students evaluate my courses nearly every semester.   While some faculty bristle at the idea of peer evaluation, our department has embraced it as a practice over the last ten years. We voted to include peer evaluation as part of our process because we initially saw it as valuable to new faculty as they adjusted to our institution. It’s not uncommon for faculty to join our department fresh from graduate school. Having a colleague review a new teacher’s syllabi and observe their classroom practices can be illuminating to both parties. The same has proven to be true for our long-serving faculty.    In my case the colleague evaluating me has been at the college for only three years and teaches in a different discipline (political science). Prior to her visit I shared with her the syllabus and discussed the experiences I’ve had with the students in this course. In this course I’ve struggled with enrollment being low – a widespread challenge at our college as we have returned from the all-remote delivery of the pandemic. This particular course was not offered on campus prior to COVID and likely will return to being an online-only offering in the future. As a result, this semester’s delivery has often been experimental.   I spent a few minutes in the class meeting prior to my colleague’s visit preparing the students for us to have an observer. I decided to include them in the planning process for the observation and asked the students for feedback about what form of content delivery had been most successful so far in the course. Together we settled on a plan for how the class would proceed that day and decided that we should ask my evaluator to come prepared to be part of class discussion. While I did not want to burden my colleague with extra work, I provided her with copies of the assigned readings.   After more than twenty years of college-level teaching I nonetheless found myself nervous when my colleague arrived to observe. Rather than have her sit in the back like a stranger, I introduced her to my students and asked them to introduce themselves and their research topics – the class being small allowed for this to happen quickly. Since peer evaluation in our department is viewed as collegial and intentionally not intimidating, the nervous tension quickly evaporated. My colleague blended easily into our class discussion as a participant-observer.   Peer evaluation offers even seasoned faculty the opportunity to evaluate what happens in their classroom day to day. Engaging the students in planning for the visit provided me with the chance to learn what they think is working (or not) long before formal student evaluations are available at semester’s end.    What are your experiences with peer evaluation? Tips for making it less stressful and more rewarding? Please share.  ... View more

As a historian I know almost nothing about the British monarchy except what I need to get me through teaching the first weeks of colonial America. I haven’t taught Western Civ in many, many years and somehow I completely avoided British history throughout my own undergraduate education. My increased interest in the monarchy in recent years, admittedly, is founded entirely on the hours I have invested in the Netflix series “The Crown.” When the Queen passed away in September, it took me a moment to remind myself that the deceased was not Olivia Coleman, the brilliant actor upon whom my sympathetic view of Queen Elizabeth II’s life has been built, but instead a woman I knew very little about – a figurehead whose life has been serialized.   Historically based (largely fictitious) dramas have an enormous influence over the television-watching and movie-going population and how they view historical events. When “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood” came out in 2019 I remember my students being stunned during our casual conversation that Quentin Tarantino had ended the movie with a fictionalized version of a real-life murder. Some felt betrayed by the way history was “changed” for the movie. I reminded them that movies are meant for entertainment and that history as narrative – when it tells the truth – often offers no comfort or enjoyment.      Somber images of the Queen’s funeral broadcast world-wide depicted family members in mourning and residents of the far-reaching British Empire offering public condolences. World leaders expressed gratitude for her lifetime of service. In those moments – seemingly made for television – we forget that the Queen as a symbol represents years of British colonial and imperial policies that have been damaging to the societies and economies of Asia, Africa and Latin America. And for that, I feel a bit guilty over the hours I’ve invested in the entertainment value of the fictional version of Queen Elizabeth II versus time spent studying the true history of her reign. If I knew more about British policies in India, for example, would the serialization of the Queen’s life – with all the dramatic flair of a soap opera – truly be so entertaining?  Probably not.   As much as I love both movies and television, I wonder if the creative minds behind such entertainment need for us as society to remain somewhat ignorant of history so that we will “enjoy” the stories. Don’t get me wrong: I do not believe that there is a giant conspiracy to keep us in the dark about history to sell movie tickets. I do, however, think there is a balance that must be struck between entertainment and the sharing of factual knowledge. Maybe the responsibility for that balance rests solely on me as historian and consumer. Thoughts?  ... View more

Recently my Macmillan Community colleague Symphonie asked members to share insights into how they deal with the “noise” present in our students’ lives. How do we, as educators, get through to our students in spite of all the distractions they are juggling?   I’ve been thinking a lot about Symphonie’s question as I’ve struggled to get my students off to a strong start in the new school year. For the first time since March 2020 I am teaching the majority of my students in person, and they do seem generally distracted. Just this week I wondered to a colleague whether we as a society have lost the ability to function as members of a group as a result of the long period of near isolation many of us experienced during the recent pandemic. During a recent class meeting, for example, a student put in earbuds and started watching a video on their cell phone as a classmate explained the central points of the homework reading. As class ended, I reminded the distracted student about my “no phones in class” policy. The response was shocking: the student felt it was fine to turn their attention elsewhere because a classmate was speaking and not me, the professor.    Later that same day I broke a class up into small groups for discussion. I was bewildered to watch as students sat with their backs towards one another for group work. It was not until I made a general announcement that members should sit facing each other that some of the students repositioned themselves so they could see and hear their classmates. I jokingly asked how they intended to do group work with their backs to one another. No response.   Now that we are back on campus en masse, therefore, we as faculty need to make a concerted effort to get students to engage with each other. A colleague in Student Affairs lamented recently that getting students to attend informational meetings for clubs and activities has never been more difficult.    To answer Symphonie’s question, I don’t think there is one simple way to cut through the noise but I do believe we have to be direct with our students and tell them what we are trying to accomplish. Yesterday, for example, as my students struggled to get started with their group work I took a moment to tell them how meaningful I believe it is that we are back in a shared learning space. Rather than me lecturing for the entire class I want them to make eye contact, to listen to each other’s voices, and to experience the value of learning collectively. I asked them to introduce their group mates to the rest of the class and to make an effort to know something about each other before they began to dissect our primary sources.    I’m happy to report that the students responded in an overwhelmingly positive manner to my plea for interaction. Taking that moment to remind them of the value of a learning community truly seemed to make a difference.    Please share your ideas here or with your fellow Macmillan Community members under Symphonie's blog linked in my first paragraph. ... View more

For the past several years – long before the COVID-19 pandemic began – I have taught Black History as an asynchronous, online course. Our department found that demand for the course was strongest among undergraduates from other colleges who were seeking to take the course at a time when it was not available at their own institutions. As a result, we typically filled two to three online sections every semester as well as during summer sessions. As we work to rebuild our on-campus community post-COVID we are offering one section of this traditionally online course on campus this fall. As of now, a week before we begin, this course has 11 enrolled students.    As I evaluate what I have prepared from previous semesters I realize that the short (20 minute) recorded lectures that worked so well in an online course now must be modified for in-person delivery. I need to think about when/how students will participate within the course. And I need to consider additional preparation in advance of student questions. Let’s face it: the recorded lecture provides us with the luxury of insulation from on-the-spot queries. I am reminded in this process that teaching online is not easier or more difficult than teaching in person, it is simply different.   Perhaps most daunting to me is the enrollment of the course. Is it just me or do other professors feel awkward lecturing to small groups of students? I’m used to lecturing to 25 to 30 students at a time. I feel compelled with this class to emphasize the importance of class discussion – human interaction and debate, including recognizing one’s own role in fostering positive discussion. After a spring semester of “quiet” classes, I’m concerned that students have grown so accustomed to asynchronous learning that they are increasingly reluctant to engage. I’m combing the internet for suggestions about student engagement, especially small groups, and seeking ways that other faculty have worked with their students to overcome their isolated COVID-period educational experiences.   Help wanted!  ... View more