Creating as a way of Orienting

My friend Gary Daynes recently made a call for higher education to move "from consumption to creation" ("No more teaching to learning").  I think this idea has interesting implications for the way we orient new students to our campuses.

Of course, new students are in need of a certain amount of critical information (e.g. How do I register for classes? Where do I buy my books?); however, I wonder if our attempts to provide easy, pre-packed answers to  these types of questions might reinforce a consumer mentality.  At it's core, new student orientation is a learning experience just like sitting in a class or taking an exam.  And, if I'm right in assuming that engaging learners in a creative process leads to meaningful learning, then there is no good reason why orientation shouldn't do the same.  

If I was remaking an orientation program on a college campus (particularly a smaller campus where numbers and logistics aren't a huge problem) this is how it might look:

1.  Fewer "Easy" Answers:  Rather than sitting students down in an auditorium and bludgeoning them with slide after slide of dry information, it would be interesting to expect students to find some of their own "answers."  This would not be a scavenger hunt--I don't think gimmicks are the answer.  But, if we could design a meaningful experience that requires students to locate key resources, pieces of information, campus locations, etc. and then report back to a larger group, I think we would see students learning more.  We make a mistake when we try to make learning easy.  Struggle on the part of a learner can pay dividends (see Chapter 1 of Daniel Coyle's The Talent Code for a more in-depth discussion of this concept).  Of course, we don't want students wandering aimlessly across campus during orientation, but guiding them in finding or creating their own answers could have some interesting outcomes.

2.  Opportunities for Meaningful Written Reflection:  Even more important than transmitting specific information, orientation is as a time to transmit the values and culture of a particular institution.  For instance, what does it mean to be Yale Bulldog or a Delaware Blue Hen?  What kinds of things do students at Harvard do?  While orientation programming can hep create this vision for a new student, an equally valuable component  is the personal reflection that a student does after orientation is all over.  What if students were asked to reflect in writing about what it means to be part of the heritage of Washington State University or what Boston College really expects of its students?  For colleges that require enrollment in a freshman seminar course of some kind, this could be the first assignment and bridge the gap between orientation and the first day of the course.  This sort of activity engages students in creating their own picture of what it means to be a college student at their particular institution, which could help frame the way they approach learning.  Asking students to share "orientation stories" of struggle, anxiety, excitement, celebration, etc. could also drive interesting reflection, reflection that could help students make meaning and grapple with transitional issues (as an aside, these stories might also provide some interesting qualitative data that could be used in assessment of orientation programs).  

3.  Opportunities to engage with real problems or issues on campus:  What if each orientation group was tasked with developing a solution to a real campus problem during orientation?   A good problem or task would require students to make use of a variety of campus resources (e.g. the library, the Student Union building and its offices, campus maps, etc.) in gathering information and articulating a thoughtful solution.  Even if none of the proposed solutions are feasible, students will have been engaged in an authentic learning experience that introduced them to campus and modeled the type of learning (learning that benefits a community) that we hope happens during their time on campus.  In the best case scenario, some of the elements of these "solutions" could be adopted and highlighted so as to reinforce the importance of students adding to or enhancing the learning community that they are a part of.

We are experimenting (in a very small way) with some of this on my campus.  We have selected 20 students to be part of a small pilot program that involves them in creating film documentaries of their orientation experience.  These 20 students will be broken into groups of 4 (within their larger orientation group) and each group will be provided with a video camera.  We will provide them with a short list of learning outcomes for orientation and ask them to, using the medium of film, illustrate that they have learned or experienced the things we hope they will.  Ideally, we hope that the act of creating something during orientation helps focus their learning.  We have also made these students aware that what they are creating could be used to market orientation to new students that come to our campus in the future.  

We'll see how things go.  Maybe it will crash and burn, but I feel good knowing that we are at least making an attempt to provide a more interactive and engaging experience during orientation.

BYU's Dirty Politics

That title might get me in trouble, but something afoul is afoot at BYU and people need to talk about it.  BYU and the city of Provo are making it increasingly difficult for students to have any real voice in their community.  Students and those who care about students should be up in arms at the latest developments in this saga.  

Yesterday the Daily Universe (BYU's campus newspaper) ran a series of articles focused on student involvement in the political process of Provo, Utah (the city where Brigham Young University is located).  It is, in my opinion, the best journalism I've seen the Daily Universe do in the 6 years I have been here on campus.  For some good reading check out any of the following articles 

• "Divided districts diminish effects of student votes"
• "BYU, city reject proposal to put student on council"

The article regarding the failed attempt to put a student on the city council is particularly telling.  I'll address a few comments made in the paper below.  In general, the comments made by Nathan Ward, the assistant director of Student Leadership at BYU are vague, non-descript, and appear to be attempts to make the university look good without committing to any meaningful change.

"We declined to participate when it became clear that it was an inconsistent way to choose a good representation of the community"

What does that even mean?  What was inconsistent about the "way" this student representative was going to be chosen.  When were BYU students consulted about this?  And, why is a full-time administrator speaking for the BYU Student Association?  Shouldn't we be hearing from an actual student? (On a side note, this another indication that BYU's student leaders don't have any meaningful involvement in actual decisions impacting the students they represent--this isn't the student leaders fault, it's bad leadership on the part of those leading them).  

"One reason for concern about the idea of a BYU Provo City community representative was that BYU's and Provo City's interests are sometimes not identical."

Are you kidding?  Of course BYU and Provo city's interests are different.  This statement actually strengthens the argument that student's should be represented on the council--none of the other members of the council have similar interests or a desire to ensure that student interests are addressed.  Additionally, this statement is full of bad logic.  The whole idea of a democratic process is to allow for a diversity of interests and views to be represented and addressed.  If the discrepancy between BYU & Provo City's interests precludes students from sitting on the council, then, applying the same logic, anyone that doesn't fit the mold of the typical Provo resident should not be represented either.  Non-LDS Hispanics, Single-Mom's, non-BYU attending college aged-students--you're all out of luck.  If your interests don't align with the oligarchy holding positions in city or university leadership, then you don't have a voice.

"We applaud the efforts of students to engage in the civic process."

Really?  That seems very disingenous given the fact that BYU has done very little to allow students to have a meaningful role in the civic and political process here in Provo.  Yes, students can vote, but as illustrated by the first article I reference, the student voting bloc has been split so many ways that it would be virtually impossible for students to have a meaningful voice in the political process.  What BYU really means when they encourage students to be "civically engaged" is to provide the city with free service (tutoring in local schools, bolstering the economy by shopping at local stores and eating in local restaurants), put on a pretty face so BYU looks like a "well-kempt" campus, and vote in the BYUSA election.  I don't doubt that there are some very sincere individuals in the campus administration that want students to be involved, but let's put our money where our mouth is and actually go to bat with students.  Are we using buzz words like "civically engaged" because we mean it or because it looks good in newspaper articles?

"We've tried to communicate with BYU, and this is where it has gotten us."  

This was a comment by current council chair Cynthia Dayton.  It may be the dumbest thing I've heard this month.  Dayton was referring to the city's current struggles in developing parking guidelines for the area south of BYU campus (commonly referred to as the "Joaquin neighborhood").  Apparently Dayton believes that being on the city council does not include addressing significant issues.  This issue of parking has been an issue for years but the city and university ignored it until students made enough noise that it had to be addressed.  Being a political representative means dealing with hard things, having hard conversations, and working hard to make the city a better place to live for all citizens, not just those over 30 with families and full-time jobs.  Heaven forbid Cynthia actually make a difference.

BYU students should be outraged at this.  Provo wants them to serve, spend, and look pretty.  But, from the look and sound of things, they don't want students to be involved in any meaningful ways.  Likewise, BYU wants to prepare students to "go forth to serve," but they aren't willing to do much to provide authentic opportunities for students to be involved in the political process.  

Sad, very sad.  Thanks Daily Universe for doing a great job of bringing these issues to light.

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Education as a Social Contract

I recently read Predictably Irrational, by Dan Ariely, and was intrigued by his commentary on how our behavior is heavily influenced by either market or social norms.  When we perceive ourselves to be in a "market" situation, one where we have a business-like contract that requires us to do certain things with the expectation that we will be compensated for our efforts, we act very much like a consumer, employee, client, etc.  Contrastingly, in other situations (e.g. volunteer work, familial interactions, etc.) we perform certain actions not because we believe we will or should be compensated, but because it is the sociall acceptable thing to do.  The work of Ariely and others indicates that we are much happier, more engaged, and likely to report enjoyment when we are driven by social norms and acting without the sort of cost-benefit analysis that drives our actions in other settings.  This made me wonder what type of paradigm students in higher education function on when they enroll in courses, complete assignments, etc.  

My sense is that most students approach education with an attitude that they are here to get something from the university (a degree, certification, and if we're lucky, knowledge) and that in order to procure that set of goods they are required to make some type of payment.  That payment comes in the form of studying, taking exams, writing papers, and in general jumping through the hoops we set up for them (hence the image at the top of the page).  Following Ariely's thinking, this is likely to lead to a very superficial learning experience, one in which students do as little as possible to garner the largest reward (i.e. high gpa's, nice letters of recommendation from faculty members, etc.).  Furthermore, they aren't as likely to enjoy the experience because they are much like the employee who goes to work merely to earn a paycheck and collect insurance benefits.  There is little to no meaning in the endeavor.  

So, my question is how do we help students approach their education as a social contract where they are driven by social norms rather than the market norms that seem to govern the vast majority of our lives?  Is that even realistic?  

I think it is, but it will take a lot of change on the part of our insitutions and those of us who interact with students on a daily basis.  John Tagg has some interesting ideas that seem to be connected to this issue.  If you're interested, read up on what he has to say about "hot cognitive economies" in The Learning Paradigm College. 

We're all Designers

I had an interesting conversation a few weeks ago with Ann  Lambson, curator of the "Education in Zion" exhibit at Brigham Young University.  Ann is a great and innovative mind who cares deeply about education and is doing great things at BYU.  In our conversation she mentioned that she is sometimes discouraged by our failure to equip students with the skills they will need when they leave our academies.  She was making an argument for the inclusion of "design" as a core competency in our general education requirements.    

Ann is right, I think, in her assertion that we (meaning Universities as a whole)  often fill students minds with a lot of knowledge, but don't ever do very much to teach them how to solve real-world problems.  This is not an indictment of entire universities, I think there are individual departments that do this very well (engineering departments, industrial design departments, and others with a more interactive and hands-on approach to learning), but what about students who find themselves in a department like French, philosophy, or chemistry?  Are these students prepared to leave campus and confront substantial and authentic problems or challenges?  As I look around at what is happening in our country and the multitude of problems we face--global climate change, loss of civility, economic woes, and more--I hope that the students we are graduating are prepared to solve these problems.  If not our college graduates, then who?

At the danger of sounding over-zealous, I would argue that we are all designers.  A teacher designs educational environments and experiences, attorneys design legal arguments, plumbers design solutions to leaky toilets.  The problem with colleges is that we often naively assume that by helping students be "well-rounded" or "broad" learners they will somehow magically learn to use the skills and knowledge they acquire to solve problems.  I think this is foolish.  We have to explicitly teach them how to be engaged citizens  who use their skills and training to make a meaningful difference.

What if universities (and some do--please share good examples if you are reading this) included a "design competency" as a graduation requirement?   By "design" I don't mean the same old visual arts requirement that is so easy to tack on to a curricula.  As I have mentioned above, design doesn't just mean producing something tangible; it also means approaching problems critically and working to develop thoughful solutions in a strategic way.  

In my mind there is a right and wrong way to do this.  The wrong way would be to create Design 201 or some other such course.  That would lead to a generic and largely unproductive experience for students.  They would approach it like any other course by jumping through the hoops, disconnecting the content from their lived experience, and treat it as a transaction where they do certain things to receive a particular grade.

The better way would be to adopt the design competency as part of a broader portfolio initiative (no, portfolios are not just for artists anymore).  As part of their university experience students would be required to demonstrate that they have acquired design skills by submitting examples of work that illustrates how they have used content knowledge (nursing skills, engineering principles, the things learned in teacher prep courses, etc.) to develop solutions to real problems that real people actually care about.  Even better would be to ask students to tackle problems existing on their own campuses (the overcrowded cafeteria, the dying grass along side the campus walkways, student behavior problems, etc.).  Students could even approach these problems in interdisciplinary teams where they would learn to work with peers who bring unique skills and perspectives.  

Granted this would take a fair amount of work to coordinate; however, it can and should be done.  If we fail to equip students to make a meaningful difference in their local, national, and global communities, we don't deserve to be in existence.  And, lecturing, administering exams, and asking for writing samples just won't do it.

Are we selling our soul to the devil?

I just recently learned that blogger will allow me to "monetize" my blog and, in theory, make money off my blogging efforts.  That scenario, of course, rests on the assumption that there is someone out in cyberland that actually reads this (and I'm not convinced yet that is true, but I press on nonetheless).  

When I first heard about all of this I was somewhat excited.  The thought of generating even a little money from blogging (something I would do for free anyway) seemed like a good thing.  I was ready to click on the "monetize" tab at the top of my page and start building my kingdom. But, then my irksome conscience kicked in and I had to pause.  I'm not ready to say that those who do post ads on their blog are unethical or breaking some unwritten rule of blogging; however, I do think that this issue warrants some discussion.

The argument for or against revenue producing blogs seems to rest on two key questions:

• What is the purpose of a blog?

• How does one's knowing they have a real audience, impact what they write or blog about?

I would argue that there are two major types of blogs:  the "mommy blog" and the amateur scholar blog.

The Mommy Blog--Hopefully this doesn't offend any one too much, but I couldn't think of a better way to put this.  These are the blogs packed with pictures of family vacations, trips to the park, etc. and that individuals use as a year-long christmas card letter of sorts.  They tell about what is going on in their lives, share funny stories about themselves or family members, etc.  It's almost like an electronic scrapbook open to the world.  

The Amateur Scholar Blog--These are the blogs like the one you're reading right now, maintained by individuals who feel like they know enough to attempt to write intelligently about a topic or field and who hope to get connected with others holding similar interests.

Neither blog is inherently good or evil.  The point is that they have different objectives and different audiences.  My sense is that ads on the mommy blogs  of the world will never really take off because, other than family members and close friends, who wants to read about how your three year-old vomited on the rug?  However, there are a handful of the "scholarly" blogs that probably have enough of a following that an advertiser could see benefit in using that space to market their product or service.   My initial excitement about "monetizing" my blog rested on the probably naive beliefs that one day my blog might have traffic like that.  

There is a problem, though, in all of this.  My feeling is that blogging is mostly for the blogger (see this clip for a concise and thoughtful description of this argument).  Blogging forces us to reflect, make connections between ideas, and articulate our thinking in a way that is at least somewhat coherent.  While some readers might benefit from the ideas I have posted here, the real value is for me because I am engaging in a behavior that promotes active learning and deeper thinking.  What's more, when I blog, I know there is a chance that someone might read it and I work harder to flesh out my ideas and articulate them clearly.  I want people to read my blog because I want to be part of an intelligent dialogue about higher education, learning, design, etc.  

Some would argue that this focus on audience makes "monetizing" a blog seem like a natural fit.  We want an audience anyway, why not get paid for bringing people to the blog.  The problem I see is that catering to an audience of advertisers and consumers is much different than writing for an audience of professional colleagues.  A good example of this same principle is the difference between popular magazines and scholarly journals.  Magazines have to be fun or entertaining because they depend on ad revenue and advertisers want to be sure that what consumers read in the magazine is interesting enough that they keep coming back.  Entertainment, not accurate information or learning, is the objective.  While scholarly journals definitely want a readership, their ultimate goal is to advance knowledge, not entertain.

When we start to blog in an attempt to make money, something seems to change.  No longer are we writing for ourselves or for an audience of peers, but we're writing for the advertiser and for the consumer that we hope will visit our site.  The reflective and pedagogical value of the blog seems to be diminished at that point.  If I'm a big time blogger about design and have a good following, would dipping into the ad pool eventually change the way I write?  I don't know, but it seems like a slippery slope.  Would I start blogging about design software in hopes that the company might approach me about an ad?  Is this really the best software I've seen?  etc.  There just seem to be some problems here, but I recognize that my ideas are still embryonic.  

Am I wrong here?  Can a good scholarly blog also be a marketing & revenue tool?  

Deep Practice

I've been reading up on skill acquisition as of late and came across Talent Code, by Daniel Coyle.  In it he describes a concept he terms "deep practice" and argues that people become very good at something by practicing in a very specific, focused way.  He identifies three rules of deep practice:

 1.  Practice skills in "chunks"

            The critical idea here is that the learner first needs to develop a picture or "vision" of what a successful performance looks like (e.g. watching an expert, viewing film, etc.).  From there they break the skill into chunks and practice those parts of the skill individually, gradually adding pieces over time until each of the individual parts have been integrated into a smooth performance.   Coyle also argues that the chunks should be practiced slowly so that the learner can understand how each of the chunks fit together and flow into each other.

 2.  Lots of Repetitions

            This is similar to the 10,000 hour rule discussed by Malcolm Gladwell in Outliers.  The key is spending enough time and energy that the deep practice pays off.  Although expertise will take close to 10 years to develop.  Individual, high intensity deep practice sessions (those that include lots of repetitions) will dramatically increase the speed of skill acquisition. 

 3.  Learn to "feel" mistakes

            This is what I took to be the key element of deep practice.  People who are very skilled in some arena have become that way, not because of some innate genius or talent, but because they have learned to learn.  In other words, they were just as bad as the rest of us to begin with;  however, they were able to identify their mistakes and correct them.  As this cycle is repeated over the course of many practice sessions (often over a period of ten years or so), they develop expertise.   For a great discussion of the same idea, but in different language, you might want to look at Carol Dweck's work in Mindset. 

 When these three elements of practice come together Coyle says it places the learner in the "sweet spot" (very similar to Csikszhentmihalyi's description of "Flow") where the task is just beyond the learner's capabilities.  The dancer Martha Graham has described this as a condition that leads to "divine dissatisfaction" wherein the learner doesn't reach their goal, but is close enough that they are motivated to keep working.

 So, my question after learning about all of this is whether traditional educators can learn anything from all of this.  Can we design learning environments where students are engaged in "deep" academic practice?  Will this only work for the most highly motivated student (Coyle might argue that it does, although I haven't finished his book yet and he has a section devoted to motivation so I might retract this statement)? 

 Learning and thinking, in my mind, are both skills that we are trying to help students acquire.  So, it makes sense that these principles of skill acquisition would apply to our learning environments.  But, the transfer seems to be a little more difficult given that we aren't engaging students in overt actions like a tennis coach or music teacher would. 

 How do we make all of this work for education?

Blind Administrators

A conversation with a colleague yesterday has had me thinking ever since and they have been largely depressing thoughts.

Those that follow this blog know that my work is with first-year students at a large private university.  One of our biggest initiatives are New Student Orientation programs at the beginning of each semester.  Like most educators we are faced with making decisions about where to focus our efforts and what messages are most important to communicate to new students during our 2-3 day orienation sessions.  

Yesterday, I was talking about this with a colleague of mine and she related that one of our administrators had commented that "new students aren't ready to hear about the "Aims of a BYU Education" at orientation--it's too heavy."  In other conversations I have learned that this administrator, however, feels that reminding students to take shorter showers and turn off lights, as well as injunctions to "stay until the very end of weekly campus devotionals" are critical to communicate during orientation.  

This all seemed incredibly short-sighted to me and represents, I think, the lack of vision that is becoming common among university administrators.  I wholeheartedly agree that student behaviour is lacking on a lot of fronts, from mediocre study skills to sometimes appalling lack of decorum.  I also agree that universities have a charge to help students become better citizens, however that might be defined.  The problem I have with most university leadership is their way of going about changing behavior.  

My view is that most behavior stems from internal values and attitudes.  Consequently, if we want to change behavior, we need to change thinking.  Burdening students with a long list of do's and don'ts may bring about temporary changes in behavior (although, I would argue that more often it leads to rebellion and resentment--much like authoritarian parents' inflexible rules for a wayward teenager).  A more effective way, I believe,  to help students adopt change is to help them develop the same vision that we have for our insitutions.  At mine, that vision is almost entirely captured by our Aims of a BYU Education, and I would imagine that similar foundational documents and mission statements are found at almost every institution of higher education.  If students don't ever catch this vision or develop a picture of what a BYU education is all about (or Notre Dame or Westminster College or whatever institution we are talking about) it is naive to expect them to act and behave in the way we would hope they would.  As a result, their educational experience is fragmented and more an exercise of jumping through hoops and obeying abstract rules than anything else.  I think this is what the writer of proverbs may have meant when they said "where ther is no vision, the people perish."  Having an internal picture of the ultimate goal or objective helps frame the way people think and act.

This leaves me with a few questions I need to ask of myself (and wish I could ask of the administrator who I referenced earlier in this post):

• What is the vision that we want students to have of their education?
• Do all of our key stakeholders (faculty, administration, boards, student leaders, etc.) agree on this vision?
• How do we help students "catch this vision?" 
• How will we know that they have caught it

Until my administration, and others, are more thoughtful about the ways in which we orient students to the missions of out institutions, they will never become what we hope they will become.  All the orientation talks, seminars, workshops, and other technical responses will just lead to temporary change and continued frustration.