Earlier this month, we published a Q&A with Michael McPherson about the value of quality instruction as a follow-up to the report The Future of Undergraduate Education, The Future of America. This conversation sparked such a great discussion among our community members that we wanted to shine some light on their thoughtful responses, which highlighted key concepts such as tenure, outcome data, and faculty and graduate student preparation.

Tenure

McPherson’s discussion of tenure and contract renewal provoked comments about evaluation and institutional culture. One reader advanced McPherson’s statement about the difference between evaluation for improvement and evaluation for promotion by recognizing the “self-preservation tendencies with tenure that end [up] taking priority over the mandate to actually cause learning.” Another reader voiced support for the tenure system while also noting the importance of debate around issues that upset the status quo.

The discussion also unveiled a larger systemic problem that often poses challenges for non-tenure-track faculty. One reader poignantly asserted that “unnecessary stress caused by the lack of job security and respect facing adjunct and part-time faculty is distracting to say the least. This is reflected in their ability to develop relationships with students and staff alike. Faculty and student contact is highly correlated with student success, and I would argue, teacher satisfaction too.” As McPherson shared, without better support and working conditions for non-tenure-track faculty, institutions will continue to fight a cultural battle around the recognition given to teaching faculty.

Outcome Data

Our readers also discussed the need for institutions to view outcome data within the larger context of education quality rather than simply looking at it quantitatively. One reader noted that “the academic system, as it currently stands, is mostly interested in quantifiable outcome data. This includes retention and graduation rates. There is little value placed on the teaching aspect.” With little emphasis placed on the active learning process, this reader noted, “the ability to retain the information is diminished, [and] test scores are not enough to foster innovative ideas.” Another reader highlighted the role of the learning process in creating “a competent labor force, higher retention rates, and education hegemony.”

Faculty and Graduate Student Preparation

McPherson stated that although many college and university instructors have teaching responsibilities, “they get very little training in most cases for that work,” and many readers supported his position. While a few commented on the need for more pedagogical support, one reader provided suggestions for better preparing graduate students for teaching, such as “[incorporating] an intensive teaching internship, involving mentorship, within graduate programs as opposed to the prevalent system of employing graduate students for low-level undergraduate courses.” Additionally, this reader offered graduate student unions as a potential tool for ensuring fair compensation and institutional support. And while many supported the premise that a PhD isn’t necessarily a degree in teaching, one reader reminded us that there are some PhD programs, such as those in curriculum development, for example, that do include preparation in pedagogy.

Thank you to our community for this vibrant discussion! We invite you to share additional thoughts and feedback by commenting on the Q&A post.

By Dr. Melissa Lenos, Assistant Professor and Chairperson of Liberal Arts and Sciences, Donnelly College

I held up a paperback and met 13 pairs of uneasy eyes. It was hard to keep the excitement out of my voice as I explained, “We’re going to read Bleak House together and we’re going to read it as it was originally released—in serial form. We’ll do one installation a week over the course of the semester.” My excitement was two-sided: Bleak House is one of my favorite novels (I reread it every winter break), and I was nervous. I typically teach freshman writing courses, and it’s been a long time since I’ve had the opportunity to teach a hefty novel. I felt rusty, and also worried that the scale of the text might intimidate my students.

Classroom demographics at Donnelly College tend to be unlike those of other schools, and this semester is no different. This “Great Books” designated section of Comp 2 has no young men and is majority Latina, majority English Language Learners, and almost entirely first-generation students, in keeping with Donnelly’s core student population.

Donnelly’s student population often arrives underprepared for college, due to continuous disruption and economic struggle in the local school districts. In my 6 years of teaching here, I’ve found that students sometimes fall behind in the first 4 to 6 weeks and then simply give up. With a 900-page novel, I wanted to create some failsafes to keep that from happening in this class.

Reflecting back on my first semester of the ACUE course, I decided to build regular “Fishbowls” into the syllabus. In the ACUE course, Dr. Tara Lineweaver describes the Fishbowl activity as a “close-knit conversation among four students” seated in the center of their classmates, who form a circle around them. The students in Dr. Lineweaver’s class prepare a short paper based on the readings, and then during class, she pulls four names from a fishbowl, and those students discuss the assigned articles for 20 minutes. The rest of the students listen, take notes, and have an opportunity to comment after the discussion has ended.

In my Comp 2 course, every Friday the students would come prepared to discuss one serial segment of the novel. We would randomly select three or four women to discuss the novel for 15 to 20 minutes (depending on the length of that week’s segment) and then regroup for a whole-class discussion. I also created a large, adaptable concept map to help keep track of the novel’s 50-some characters and myriad intertwined themes.

Friday was our most recent Fishbowl—each student has participated at least once at this point. We’d spent the past week discussing contradictory perspectives on the text. Several of the students are writing term papers addressing some aspect of the representations of women in Bleak House. The students found sources that argue for Esther Summerson’s powerful agency and determination, while other sources dismiss her as weak and uninspiring.

This week’s Fishbowl participants drew this previous conversation into their discussion, identifying moments that could be interpreted as supporting each point of view and considering how their perspectives of Esther have changed now that they’re halfway through the novel. They debated what Dickens intended the audience to think or feel about Esther based on how Esther, in her first-person chapters, describes herself and how other characters speak to and about her. The students then helped each other sort through one particularly confusing scene in the week’s reading and spent the rest of the Fishbowl debating developments in the overarching mysteries threaded through the novel.

Based on Fishbowl participation, whole-class discussions and their reading quizzes, I can tell that—6 weeks into the semester—every student is current on the reading. In a typical section of Comp 2, 10% to 15% would be dangerously behind, consistently absent, or otherwise struggling at this point in the semester. More than that, when I come into class at 9 a.m., they are often already chatting about the week’s developments: Lady Dedlock’s shady behavior and Mr. Tulkinghorn’s ominous looming. Last week they were particularly outraged by Mr. Guppy, greeting me with “Esther has a stalker!” Another warmed my heart, grumbling, “I wish Esther wouldn’t act so dumb when she’s not.” My students are pulling out interesting themes (Dickens’s portrayals of marriage, philanthropy, the legal system), noticing narrative trends, and asking compelling, complex questions.

This week, as we approach midterms, I had the students reflect on their Fishbowl experience so far in a 10-minute “Exit Ticket” for the class, which is essentially a prompt they must respond to before leaving. I asked them to reflect upon what they feel is working well with the Fishbowl exercise and what they might change or do differently through the end of the semester. They all agreed that we should continue with the exercise—that it keeps them accountable to themselves and their classmates. Several mentioned that keeping up on the reading and taking thorough reading notes feels more important if you know classmates “might be counting on you” to help lead a discussion. At such a small school, most of these students have multiple classes together and check in with each other during the week.

I find that every week’s content in the ACUE course impacts my teaching, but nothing has disrupted my personal pedagogy as much as the Fishbowl. I realized that I too frequently underestimate my students, that I jump in to “help” them too quickly, and that given control of class discussion, students will generate smart, provocative conversations. In restructuring the rhythm of my classes, my students have been given additional space to approach ideas from multiple perspectives. Every day that we have had a Fishbowl this semester, my students have surprised me.