Happy Bolivian Teacher Appreciation Day

The Wiphala of Qollasuyu: the banner of the native people of the Andes and official co-flag of Bolivia. Happy Teachers’ Day for all of those of you show would rather use this flag!

Ok, I’ll be honest. I saw a link to the US Teacher Appreciation Day and, because I read it too quickly, I thought it was going to be on the 8th of June rather than the 8th of May. Today I was going to talk about how important it is to recognise the value and contribution of teachers every day – especially for me as someone who gets students after 12 years of successful learning! (World Teachers’ Day is on October the 5th, if you’re curious.)

However, instead, I went to look up if anyone actually had today as their national teaching day and, fortunately for me, it turns out that Bolivia celebrates their Teachers’ Day today (Wikipedia link). (Where today is in Australian time zones, sorry, confused people reading this on the 5th and saying “Martha! That boy’s gone mad again!”)

Happy Teachers’ Day, Bolivian Teachers! (Bolivian Flag)

But reading through that Wikipedia page made me appreciate how differently, including sincerely, we value teachers. Sometimes it’s part of a “Teachers’ Week”, sometimes it stands alone. Sometimes gifts are given, except where this might amount to bribery so the schools get closed (citation seriously needed here, because that’s a very big claim to base on a Wikipedia article!) Sometimes teachers get the day off, or half day off.

Some countries have students visiting their past and present teachers to bring gifts or show their appreciation. Apparently, in some countries, teachers get together and celebrate their profession by going out.

It doesn’t really matter what is done, after all, as long as the activity is sincere and recognises the teacher for teaching you well, listening, helping or contributing to your progress. But I really like the idea of teachers themselves getting together to say “Yeah! We’re teachers! We do an important job and we are doing it well. Hooray for us!”

There’s no worse way to celebrate a day by making a token gesture – it’s really better not to. (Any secretaries out there who have received a joke t-shirt that says “I’m with stupid” on Secretary’s Day know what I’m talking about.) But it’s not about being recognised by other people, it’s about taking the time to look back at your year and think about everything that’s happened. It’s about recognising what you have done, despite resourcing issues, increasing pressure, decreasing salaries and a changing world.

It’s about thinking about what it means to be a teacher – whether you are a student or a teacher.

So, teachers, wherever you are, have a happy Bolivian Teachers’ Appreciation Day and a good year to come.


Learning from other people – Academic Summer Camp (except in winter???)

I’ve just signed up for the Digital Humanities Winter Institute course on “Large-scale text analysis with R”. K read about it on ProfHacker and passed it on to me thinking I’d be interested. Of course, I was, but it goes well beyond learning R itself. R is a statistically focused programming package that is available for free for most platforms. It’s the statistical (and free, did I mention that?) cousin to the mathematically inclined Matlab.

I’ve spoken about R before and I’ve done a bit of work in it but, and here’s why I’m going, I’ve done all of it from within a heavily quantitative Computer Science framework. What excites me about this course is that I will be working with people from a completely different spectrum and with a set of text analyses with which I’m not very familiar at all. Let me post the text of the course here (from this website) [my bold]:

Large-Scale Text Analysis with R
Instructor: Matt Jockers, Assistant Professor of Digital Humanities, Department of English, University of Nebraska, Lincoln

Text collections such as the HathiTrust Digital Library and Google Books have provided scholars in many fields with convenient access to their materials in digital form, but text analysis at the scale of millions or billions of words still requires the use of tools and methods that may initially seem complex or esoteric to researchers in the humanities. Large-Scale Text Analysis with R will provide a practical introduction to a range of text analysis tools and methods. The course will include units on data extraction, stylistic analysis, authorship attribution, genre detection, gender detection, unsupervised clustering, supervised classification, topic modeling, and sentiment analysis. The main computing environment for the course will be R, “the open source programming language and software environment for statistical computing and graphics.” While no programming experience is required, students should have basic computer skills and be familiar with their computer’s file system and comfortable with the command line. The course will cover best practices in data gathering and preparation, as well as addressing some of the theoretical questions that arise when employing a quantitative methodology for the study of literature. Participants will be given a “sample corpus” to use in class exercises, but some class time will be available for independent work and participants are encouraged to bring their own text corpora and research questions so they may apply their newly learned skills to projects of their own.

There are two things I like about this: firstly that I will be exposed to such a different type and approach to analysis that is going to be immediately useful in the corpus analyses that we’re planning to carry out on our own corpora, but, secondly, because I will have an intensive dedicated block of time in which to pursue it. January is often a time to take leave (as it’s Summer in Australia) – instead, I’ll be rugged up in the Maryland chill, sitting with like-minded people and indulging myself in data analysis and learning, learning, learning, to bring knowledge home for my own students and my research group.

So, this is my Summer Camp. My time to really indulge myself in my coding and just hack away at analyses and see what happens.

I’ve also signed up to a group who are going to work on the “Million Syllabi Project Hack-a-thon“, where “we explore new ways of using the million syllabi dataset gathered by Dan Cohen’s Syllabus Finder Tool” (from the web site). 10 years worth of syllabi to explore, at a time when my school is looking for ways to be able to teach into more areas, to meet more needs, to create a clear and attractive identity for our discipline? A community of hackers looking at ways of recomposing, reinterpreting and understanding what is in this corpus?

How can I not go? I hope to see some of you there! I’ll be the one who sounds Australian and shivers a lot.


Great News, Another Group Paper Accepted!

Our Computer Science Education Research group has been doing the usual things you do when forming a group: stating a vision, setting goals, defining objectives and then working like mad. We’ve been doing a lot of research and we’ve been publishing our work to get peer review, general feedback and a lot of discussion going. This year, we presented a paper in SIGCSE, we’ve already had a paper accepted for DEXA in Vienna (go, Thushari!) and, I’m very pleased to say that we’ve been just been notified that our paper “A Fast Measure for Identifying At-Risk Students in Computer Science” has been accepted as one of the research papers for ICER 2012, in Auckland, New Zealand.

This is great news for our group and I’m really looking forward to some great discussion on our work.

I’ll see some of you at ICER!

Click here to go to the ICER 2012 Information Page!


Rush, Rush: Baby, Please Plan To Submit Your Work Earlier Than The Last Minute

Sorry, Paula Abdul, but I had to steal a song lyric from you.

AND MANGLE IT!

This is the one of the first pictures that comes up when you search for ‘angry Paula Abdul”. Sorry, Lamar.

I’ve been marking the first “process awareness” written report from my first-year students. A one-page PDF that shows their reflections on their timeliness and assignment performance to date and how they think that they can improve it or maintain it. There have been lots of interesting results from this. From about 100 students, I’ve seen many reports along the lines of “I planned, I assigned time, SO WHY DIDN’T I FOLLOW THE PLAN?” or “Wow, I never realised how much I needed a design until I was stuck in the middle of a four-deep connection of dynamic arrays.”

This is great – understanding why you are succeeding or failing allows you to keep doing the things that work, and change the things that don’t. Before this first-year curriculum restructure, and this course, software development process awareness could avoid our students until late second- or third-year. Not any more. You got run over by the infamous Library prac? You know, you should have written a design first. And now my students have all come to this realisation as well. Two of my favourite quotes so far are:

“[Programming in C++] isn’t hard but it’s tricky.”

and

“It’s not until you have a full design [that you can] see the real scope of the project.”

But you know I’m all about measurement so, after I’d marked everything, I went back and looked at the scores, and the running averages. Now here’s the thing. The assignment was marked out of 10. Up until 2 hours before the due date, the overall average was about 8.3. For the last two hours, the average dropped to 7.2. The people commenting in the last two hours were making loose statements about handing up late, and not prioritising properly, but giving me enough that I could give them some marks. (It’s not worth a lot of marks but I do give marks for style and reflection, to encourage the activity.) The average mark is about 8/10 usually. So, having analysed this, I gave the students some general feedback, in addition to the personalised feedback I put on every assignment, and then told them about that divide.

The fact that the people before the last minute had the marks above the average, and that the people at the last minute had the marks below.

One of the great things about a reflection assignment like this is that I know that people are thinking about the specific problem because I’ve asked them to think about it and rewarded them with marks to do so. So when I give them feedback in this context and say “Look – planned hand-in gets better marks on average than last-minute panic” there is a chance that this will get incorporated into the analysis and development of a better process, especially if I give firm guidelines on how to do this in general and personalised feedback. Contextualisation, scaffolding… all that good stuff.

There are, as always, no guarantees, but moving this awareness and learning point forward is something I’ve been working on for some time. In the next 10 days, the students have to write a follow-up report, detailing how they used the lessons they learnt, and the strategies that they discussed, to achieve better or more consistent results for the next three practicals. Having given them guidance and framing, I now get to see what they managed to apply. There’s a bit of a marking burden with this one, especially as the follow-up report is 4-5 pages long, but it’s worth it in terms of the exposure I get to the raw student thinking process.

Apart from anything else, let me point out that by assigning 2/10 for style, I appear to get reports at a level of quality where I rarely have to take marks away and they are almost all clear and easy to read, as well as spell-checked and grammatically correct. This is all good preparation and, I hope, a good foundation for their studies ahead.


Proscription and Prescription: Bitter Medicine for Teachers

Australia is a big country. A very big country. Despite being the size of the continental USA, it has only 22,000,000 people, scattered across the country and concentrated in large cities. This allows for a great deal of regional variation in terms of local culture, accents (yes, there is more than one Australian accent) and local industry requirements. Because of this, despite having national educational standards and shared ideas of what constitutes acceptable entry levels for University, there are understandable regional differences in the primary, secondary and tertiary studies.

Maintaining standards is hard, especially when you start to consider regional issues – whose standards are you maintaining. How do you set these standards? Are they prescriptions (a list of things that you must do) or proscriptions (a list of things that you mustn’t do)? There’s a big difference in course and program definition depending upon how you do this. If you prescribe a set textbook then everyone has to use it to teach with but can bring in other materials. If you proscribe unauthorised textbooks then you have suddenly reduced the amount of initiative and independence that can be displayed by your staff.

Excuse me, Doctor, you appear to be writing in invisible ink…

As always, I’m going to draw an analogue with our students to think about how we guide them. Do we tell them what we want and identify those aspects that we want them to use, or do we tell them what not to do, limit their options and then look surprised when they don’t explore the space and hand in something that conforms in a dull and lifeless manner?

I’m a big fan of combining prescription, in terms of desirable characteristics, and proscription, in terms of pitfalls and traps, but in an oversight model that presents the desirable aspects first and monitors the situation to see if behaviour is straying towards the proscribed. Having said that, the frequent flyers of the proscription world, plagiarism and cheating, always get mentioned up front – but as the weak twin of the appropriate techniques of independent research, thoughtful summarisation, correct attribution and doing your own work. Rather than just saying “DO NOT CHEAT”, I try to frame it in terms of what the correct behaviour is and how we classify it if someone goes off that path.

However, any compulsory inclusions or unarguable exclusions must be justified for the situation at hand – and should be both defensible and absolutely necessary. When we start looking at a higher level, above the individual school to the district, to the region, to the state, to the country, any complex set of prescriptions and proscriptions is very likely to start causing regional problems. Why? Because not all regions are the same. Because not all districts have the money to meet your prescriptions. Because not all cultures may agree with your proscriptions.

This post was triggered by a post from a great teacher I know, to whom I am also related, who talked about having to take everything unofficial out of her class. Her frustration with this, the way it made her feel, the way it would restrict her – an award winning teacher – made me realise how privileged I am to work in a place where nobody really ever tells me what to do or how to teach. While it’s good for me to remember that I am privileged in this regard, perhaps it’s also good to think about the constant clash between state, bureaucracy and education that exist in some other places.


Matters of Scale

I wrote about how important it is to get people properly involved in new learning and teaching approaches – students and staff – based on the the whole condemnation, complaint, compliance and commitment model. But let me be absolutely clear as to why compliance is not enough.

Compliance doesn’t scale.

If you have a lot of people who are just doing what they’re told, but aren’t committed to it, then they’re not going to be willing explorers in the space. They’re not going to create new opportunities. Why? Because they don’t really believe in it, they’ve just reached the rather depressing stage of shuffling along, not complaining, just doing what they’re told. When we don’t explain to people, or we don’t manage to communicate, the importance of what we’re doing, then how can they commit to it?

I’m fortunate to be at a meeting full of people who have done amazing things. I’m really only here as a communicator of some great stuff going on at my Uni and in Australia, I’m a proxy for amazing things. But being around these people is really inspiring. They know why they’re doing it, they’ve heard all of the complaints, fought off the underminers and, in some cases, had to make some very hard calls to drive forward positive agendas for change. (Goodness, such phrases…) But they also know that they need other people to make it happen.

We need commitment, we need passion and we need people to scale up our solutions to the national and international level.

The Higher Educational world is changing – there’s no doubt about that. Some people look at things like Khan Academy and think “Oh no, the death of traditional education.” Most of the discussions I’ve had here, and I agree with this, are more along the lines of “Ok, how can we use this to go further?” Universities are all about knowledge and the development/discovery of more knowledge. If we have people out there with good on-line courses that cover the basics in disciplines, why not use them to allow us to go further? The gap between what I teach my undergraduates and what I do in my research is vast – just about anything I can do to get my students to develop skill and knowledge mastery is a good thing.

Ok, we are going to have to sort out quality issues, maybe certification or credit recording, work out if someone has done certain courses: there’s a lot of organisation to do here if we want to go down this path. But, most importantly, I don’t see this as the death of the University – I see this as an amazing opportunity to go further, do better things, allowing students and staff to get much, much more out of the educational system.

So everyone has learnt to program by the time that they’re 12? FANTASTIC! Now, we can start looking at actual Computer Science and putting trained algorithmicists out there along with extremely well-trained software engineers. We can finally start to really push out the boundaries of education and get people working smarter, sooner.

Are there risks and threats? Of course. But, no matter what happens, the University of the 21st Century is not the University of the previous millennium. Change is coming. Change is here. We may as well try to be as constructive as possible as we try to imagine the shape of the University of tomorrow. We’re not talking about University 2100, we’re talking 20XX, where XX is probably closer than many of us think.

To quote Captain Jack Harkness:

“The 21st century is when everything changes. And we have to be ready.”


Are you succeeding?

My wife sent me a link to this image, created by Alex Koplin and David Meiklejohn.

The message is (naively) simple – if you don’t like where you are, change something. This, of course, assumes that you have the capacity for change and the freedom to change. There are lots of times where this isn’t true but, in academia, we often have far more resources to hand to help people if they assess where they are going and don’t like the direction.

I talk a lot about process awareness – making students of what they are doing to ensure that they can identify the steps that they take and the impact that those steps have. My first-years have their first process awareness assignment to complete next week where I want them to look at their coding history in terms of difficulty and timeliness. What did they do that had a big impact on their chances of success? Being honest with themselves, were they lucky to get the work in on time? What I really want my students to understand is that they have to know enough about themselves and their capabilities that their work processes are:

  1. Predictable: They can estimate the time required to complete a task and the obstacles that they will encounter, and be reasonably accurate.
  2.  Reconfigurable: They can take apart their process to add new elements for new skills and re-use elements in new workflows.
  3. Well-defined and understood: Above all, they know what they are doing, why they are doing it and can explain it to other people.

Looking back at the diagram above, the most important step is change something if you don’t like where you are. By introducing early process awareness, before we ramp up programming difficulty and complexity, I’m trying to make my students understand the building blocks that they are using and, with this fundamental understanding, I hope that this helps them to be able to see what they could change, or even that change could be possible, if they need to try a different approach to achieve success.

Remember MIKE and SWEDE? Even a good student, who can usually pull off good work in a short time, may eventually be swamped by the scale of all the work that they have to do – without understanding which of their workflow components have to be altered, they’re guessing. Measurement of what works first requires understanding the individual elements. This are early days and I don’t expect anyone to be fully process aware yet, but I like the diagram, as it reminds me of why I’m teaching my students about all of this in the first place – to enable them to be active participants in the educational process and have the agency for change and the knowledge to change constructively and productively.


The Value of Investment… in People

I apologise in advance because this post is less about learning and teaching as practice and more about protecting those people who provide the learning and teaching. It’s probably more political than usual, although I’m trying to be neutral here there’s some inevitability, so please feel free to skip it.

As many of you will know, a number of Australian Universities have had to slash their budgets in the wake of the global financial crisis, often due to a large amount of their operating budget coming from investments, rather than Commonwealth funds for student places or localised research and consulting incomes. As part of this, the rounds of staff retrenchments, targeted redundancies and the general theme of ‘reducing sail’ seems to show up on the news sites with increasing regularly.

Now, you might not be a huge fan of the American airline Southwest, but their continued profitability and growth after the horror of 9/11 was attributed to a number of key strategies that the airline took during that difficult time. Most other major airlines cut their routes and their staff to reduce their expenditure and, as we all know, staff are expensive. Southwest carried out no layoffs, instead looking at the situation as a possibility for expansion. If everyone else was reducing presence, well, soon enough, people would want to fly again. (I note that this was only really possible because Southwest had committed to keeping their debt low and their cash on hand high, which meant that they didn’t have to service dead debt or carry out a fire sale to strip out the debt or make their interest payments.) From what I’ve read, Southwest still pays some of the highest salaries, is still profitable, has surprisingly good ongoing relationships between management and labour, and, despite some hiccups, is proceeding pretty well.

Pilots take years to train. Crew take years to reach recognised higher levels of competency. A Captain requires somewhere between 10-20 years of experience, thousands of hours of flying, skill tests, commitment to physical fitness. Good cabin crew are also hard to find and take time to train, to give your airline the consistency and excellence of experience that keep people coming back. Who do you fire when the money starts getting squeezed? Senior people (and lose their expertise) or your junior people (and artificially age your workforce)? Worse still, when people start getting fired, what behaviour will you get from the rest? Solidarity, where you drive a wedge between management and worker because the workers unite for good or ill, or treachery, where workers turn on each other to scrabble up the side of the ship to get out of the water? A climate of fear takes focus away from your core business.

Academics take years to train. Senior educators, researchers and administrators take years to reach recognised higher levels of competency. A Professor takes 10-20 years of experience, thousands of hours of reading and writing, millions of dollars in grants, PhDs and other skill test, commitment to … ok, well there the analogy stops but a lot of us run or work out because we’re desk bound. Good administrative support people and professional staff members are hard to find and take time to train, to give our academy the consistency and excellence of experience that keep people coming back.

Do I really need to go on? At a time when the rest of the world is reeling from the GFC, Australia has had some interaction with it but, from most accounts, nothing like the impact elsewhere. When the world recovers, we want to be able to take as many students as possible, into well-established, well-staffed and actively growing programs. If we don’t do that, then somebody else will. There are new Universities going up all over the regions that we have traditionally seen as our student recruiting grounds. (Some Unis here are already changing their acceptance policies to address this but, with reduced staff, you have to wonder how extra intake is going to be balanced.)

This is the moment where we could go in many different directions – and only some of them are good.

We have an amazing opportunity to take what I believe to be a generally excellent educational basis at the tertiary level and make ourselves more available to the domestic and international markets. Shrinking a school, or an area, to half of its staff is not a 1 or even 5-year decision, it’s a 10-20 year decision. Could we be more efficient? Yes, I think we could. Do we need to keep quality levels high? Yes, but then let’s have that discussion and tell people what we want to achieve. Is there a finite amount of increase a given academic can take? Yes. There’s only so far we can squeeze before we risk compromising long-term sustainability, quality and excellence. It’s pretty obvious that there’s a lot of house cleaning going on at the moment, for a range of reasons, and I can’t help thinking that a lot of that can be handled through good management, rather than broad brush activities like this. But I’m a junior woodchuck, so my view may be heavily compromised and rose-tinted.

I’m always scared that these staff reduction exercises take out core aspects of our elders, remove the unlucky and encourage those who are capable in many fields to go elsewhere – at least as much as they remove people that we may actually want to “get rid of”. Worse, the climate of fear, of losing your job or having to shoulder the load as being one of the ‘lucky’ ones left behind, takes focus away from our core business – excellence in learning, teaching and research.

I look at Southwest and, yes, it’s a bit of a stretch, but I wonder what would happen if we committed to riding this out and seeing what opportunities opened up – with no need for division, enforced solidarity or encouraged treachery.


Participation: The Price of Success

In my various roles I have to look at interesting areas like on-line learning and teaching delivery. One of the classic problems in this area is the success of the initiative to get educators and students alike to use the technology – at which point it melts because the level of participation rises so high that the finite underlying resources are exhausted. The resource was never designed as if everyone would want to, and then actually go on to, use it.

I have had someone, seriously, say to me that an on-line learning system would work much better if the students didn’t all try to use it at once.

The same problem, of course, occurs with educators. If no-one is participating in class then you’re pushing a giant rock up hill to make things happen and it’s more likely than not that a lot of what you’re saying and doing isn’t being taken in. If everyone is participating in class, you’ve jumped into the Ringmaster’s hat, you’re constantly fielding e-mails, forum messages and appointment requests. And, of course, at the end of the long day it’s easy to fall into that highly questionable, but periodically expressed, mode of thinking “universities would be great if there were fewer students around“.

A picture of bread and butter.

Students are our bread and butter. (Not literally!)

I’ve attached a picture of bread and butter to drive this point home. Students are what makes the University. Their participation, their enthusiasm, their attendance, their passion, their ennui, the good and the bad things they do. If the systems we build don’t work with our students, or the volume of students, or automatically excludes a group of students because we can any provide resources for 70% of them, then I think that we’ve got something wrong.

Having said that, I get ‘tight budgets’, I understand ‘district funding shortfall’ and I certainly sympathise with ‘very high workloads’. I’m not saying that people are giving up or doing the wrong thing in the face of all these factors, I’m talking about the understanding I’ve come to that the measure of my success as an educator is almost always linked to how much students want to talk to me about constructing knowledge, rather than than just doing assignment work.

It’s one of those things that, if I prepare for, makes my life easier and I can then view that work blip as a positive indicator, rather than go down the curmudgeonly professorial path of resenting the intrusion on my time. Let’s face it, attitude management is as (if not more) important for the lecturers in the class as it is for the students. You want to feel like you’re doing something useful, you’d like some positive feedback and you want to think that you’re making a difference. Framing increased participation as desirable and something that you plan for has certainly helped me manage the increased workload associated with it – because I take is a sign that my effort is paying off.


I Am Thinking, HE/SHE Is Procrastinating, THEY Are Daydreaming

This is a follow-up thought to my recent post on laziness. I spend a lot of time thinking and, sometimes, it would be easy to look at me and think “Wow, he’s not doing anything.” Sometimes, in my office, I stare at a wall, doodle, pace the corridor, sketch on the whiteboard or, if I’m really stuck, go for a walk down by the river. All of this helps me to clear and organise my thoughts. I use tools to manage what I have to do and to get it done in time but the cognitive work of thinking things through sometimes takes time. The less I sleep, the longer it takes. That’s why, while I’m jet lagged, I will do mostly catch-up and organisational work rather than thinking. Right now I can barely do a crossword, which is an excellent indicator that my brain is fried for anything much more complex than blogging. Given that I last slept in a bed over 30 hours ago, this isn’t surprising.

Now it’s easy to accept that I stumble around, somewhat absent-mindedly, because I’m an academic and you can all understand that my job requires me to do a lot of thinking…

But so many jobs require a lot of thinking to be done well – or , at least, the component tasks that go to make up modern jobs.

It’s a shame then that it’s activity that most people focus on rather than quality. If I were to sit in my office and type furiously but randomly, answer mails curtly, and never leave for coffee or cake, have to schedule meetings three weeks in advance – what a powerhouse I would appear! Except, of course, that I wouldn’t really appear to be that to people who knew what I was supposed to do. I don’t do the kind of job where I can move from task to task without, in most cases, detailed research including a search for new material, construction, creation, design, analysis, building, testing and executing. As always, this doesn’t make my job better or worse than anyone else’s, but I don’t carry out the same action repeatedly, an action that can be reduced in cognitive load with familiarity, I tend to do something at least slightly different each time. Boiler plate repetition is more likely to indicate that I am not doing my job correctly, given the roles that I hold.

So, if there are no points in a week where I sit there with books or papers or doodles or sketches of ideas and I think about them – then I’m really running the risk of not doing my job. I need to produce work of high quality and, because there’s a lot of new content creation, there’s creation/editing/testing… load throughout. Some of which, to an external viewer, looks like sitting around throwing paper into the bin while I hunt for solutions.

I think about this a lot for my students. I expect them, in a lecture, to not sit and think so much that they don’t communicate. I will try and bring them back from mental flights of fancy rather than let them fly off because I’ve only got an hour or two with them and need to try to get certain concepts across. And then what? Sometime in 4th year, or PhD, I expect them to flip a switch and realise that the apparent inactivity of quiet, contemplative thought is one of the most productive activities? That a day where you write eight pages, and on review only salvage half of one page, could be the most important and useful day in your PhD?

This is why I tend not to give out marks for ‘just anything’ – two pages of nonsense gets zero, there are no marks for effort because I am rewarding the wrong activity, especially where we haven’t achieved quality. Similarly, I don’t give out marks for attendance but for the collaboration – if you are after an activity, getting the students to do something, I think it’s always best to reward them for doing the activity, not just attending the framing session! But this, of course, comes hand-in hand with the requirement to give them enough timely feedback that they can improve their mark – by improving the quality of what they produce.

Electronic learning systems could be really handy here. Self-paced learning, with controlled remote assessment mechanisms, allows this thinking time and the ability to sit, privately, and mull over the problems. Without anyone harassing them.

Years ago, when I was still in the Army Reserve, we were on exercise for a couple of weeks and my soldiers were getting pretty tired because we’d been running 4 hour shifts to staff the radios. You sat on the radios for 4 hours, you were off for 4. Every so often you might get 6 hours off but it was unlikely. This meant that my soldiers were often sleeping in the middle of the day, desperately trying to make up lost sleep as well as periodically showering, shaving and eating. 4 hours goes really quickly when you’re not on duty. People in our base area who WEREN’T doing these shifts thought that my soldiers were lazy and, on at least two occasions, tried to wake them up to use them on work parties – digging holes, carrying things, doing soldier stuff. My soldiers needed their sleep and I was their commander so I told the other people, politely, to leave them alone. My operators had a job to do and maintained the quality of their work by following a very prescribed activity pattern – but the people around them could only see inactivity because of their perspective.

Maybe it’s time to look at my students again, look at what I’m asking them to do and make sure that what I’m asking and that the environment I’m giving them is the right one. I don’t think we’re doing too badly, because of previous reviews, but it’s probably never too soon to check things out again.