[The Montana Professor 18.1, Fall 2007 <http://mtprof.msun.edu>]

It Takes a Whole Faculty to Educate a Student: One Professor's Personal Journey

Claire R. Oakley
Biology
Rocky Mountain College
oakleyc@rocky.edu

My son was completing a worksheet for his advanced biology class in high school and he asked me a genetics question. I pulled out a biology text and said, "Read this first and then tell me what you think." He said very matter-of-factly, "Mom, this is a worksheet--you are not supposed to think or write anything complicated!" His comment seemed to explain my frustrating experience with the many students who have come to my office over the years to ask how they could do so badly on college tests and laboratory reports when they had done so well in high school. Students want to succeed in college, but they often do not know how. In my view, all faculty must take the time in the introductory courses to teach basic academic skills as they apply to their discipline.

It is reasonable for a reader to ask why a professor should spend time teaching what is usually covered in college skills courses. While these classes are an important element in the transition to college workloads, they cannot exist in a vacuum. A recent study by Zeidenberg and coworkers (2007) found that across Florida's community college system, "students in [student life skills] courses were 8 % more likely than their peers to earn a credential, holding all else constant." While this study points to the value of skills courses, it surely does not provide overwhelming confidence. And therefore, I advocate that professors must make a personal effort to supplement campus initiatives and help teach students how to study, take tests, and ask questions within the disciplines. Just as we understand that writing must be taught not only in a language arts class, but in history, science, and even math classes, so too must fundamental skills be reinforced in every discipline. Using a sports metaphor, we do not expect that a good ball handler in basketball will automatically translate into a good ball handler in soccer. Knowing the strategies for football offense does not necessarily translate into good tennis offense. Taking time to show students how to glean important parts of an examination question, suggesting how to use figures and tables in a text, and practicing close reading are essential tools for students to learn to apply within individual classes.

Students need help transitioning from high school to college, to make the big step from worksheets, daily assignments, and constant oversight to the collegiate schedule of non-daily classes and fewer examinations and papers or projects. They need to be taught how to move from memorizing definitions to synthesizing concepts and applying formulas or models. But they also need to understand that the work being asked of them is fundamentally different than in high school. Greater faculty acceptance of assisting students in learning how to navigate academe may increase Montana's statistics for "persistence." According to the Postsecondary Education Indicators (2007), Montana as a whole has a 68% "persistence in the 1st year (2004)" and a 43% "degree completion rate within 150% of expected time." These percentages compare unfavorably with the national rates of 77% and 51% respectively.

When I meet student recruits and I ask about how much time they spend studying as a junior or senior in high school, I am usually greeted with estimates of five to 10 hours per week. When questioned about how they study I often hear that chapters are read the night before the exam and that homework problems are done for math, chemistry, and physics classes as assigned. At that point in the conversation, I suggest that a major transition will be expected in the amount and type of out of class work that is completed on a weekly basis. I typically then mention my expectation of two hours of outside study for each credit hour for freshman and sophomore classes and three to four hours per credit for junior/senior classes. I emphasize that going to college is a full-time job. But I demonstrate that the week has plenty of hours to allow the student to go to all classes, do 30 hours of studying and "homework," sleep eight hours a night, work a part time job, and have some free time. I do this on a piece of paper or a chalkboard and try to get them to help me through the simple math. I note the ease with which time can just "melt" away without parents and teachers constantly around to goad them into doing what they should be doing.

During the first class session of my introductory Biology 111/112 sequence, I will repeat all the above for my new students--and I try to interject humor into the process of multiplication and subtraction as we work our way through. Since most students are horrified at the prospect of 30 hours of coursework outside of class time, I use sports and music performance metaphors of training and practicing for an athletic competition or a concert and not walking onto the court, field, or stage without being physically and mentally prepared. I try to cajole them into recognizing that if they approach their academic pursuits with the same anticipation, dedication, and attention to detail that they played their instruments and/or sports to reach a highly skilled level, college courses will be manageable and hopefully fun in an intellectually engaging way and lead to academic success.

As the semester progresses and we near our tests, I remind them that weekend parties do not really begin until 9 p.m. or so, and therefore, they can get at least two hours of homework or studying in on each of Friday and Saturday night--before the root beer starts flowing. The root beer comment causes snickers, but the point comes across that both the social and academic forces can and should be balanced.

I think every professor who teaches first-and second-year students must recognize that 18- and 19-year-old students, and even non-traditional students returning to college, need help in understanding how to do college level work. Last June as I sat reading Advanced Placement Biology examinations, it struck me how many students (I read 1537 exams) were losing points merely for strategic reasons. They simply did not systematically answer all parts of the questions. I vowed to spend more time with test-taking and studying strategies as part of my Biology 111 class.

I accomplished this in several ways. I emphasized that tests should not be viewed as punishment, but as an opportunity for students to "show off" what they know--why practice a sport if you never get to play a game? I spent two class periods before the first three biology examinations going over sample multiple-choice questions and the essay questions of the previous year. I placed emphasis on skills. I suggested that students needed to be "cranking away" as they read the questions and applying what they were supposed to know, and not just waiting for the correct answer to "pop out" at them from the multiple choices. I also encouraged students to physically cross out the obviously wrong answers first, and then to re-read the question and choose between the remaining responses. For the essay portions of the test, we likewise melded both content and strategy. Students divided into groups of four and discussed the questions as I circulated around the large classroom. During both the preparatory sessions and the post-test analysis, I gave the correct answers after students worked in their groups to figure out good answers. Frierson's study (1986) of test taking and team building strategies on boosting scores for the State Board Examination of nursing students supports the value of integrating and supplementing content instruction with academic skill instruction.

Yes, this means I spent 12 class days preparing for, giving, and then reviewing tests during the fall semester--we practiced close reading of multiple choice and essay questions. Yes, that means I did not cover the lac operon and much detail of gene regulation. I did not get to the chapter on DNA technology. But I decided that it was more important to cover the subjects in depth and prepare students to think about biology and help them synthesize the material, and to help all students learn successful strategies instead of regurgitating vast quantities. Across the semester, I talked with my own daughter at another small liberal arts college and with her friends visiting the house over vacations, and I questioned them about what was happening in their freshman classes. I discovered that they were not getting this concentrated help. And they wanted it; and most importantly, they needed it.

All too often, students leave high school with "A" and "B" averages and then meet less than stellar success at the college level. A very recent example featured in our local newspaper is the proposed establishment of a high school "pre-engineering"course to counter failure rates in first-year undergraduate engineering courses. That solution ignores the real problem--the mismatch of expectations at the high school and college level as documented by the 2007 ACT report where "high school science teachers consistently rate science content as more important to student success than science process/inquiry skill. These responses are in direct contrast to those of middle and post secondary science teachers" (par. 10). According to the ACT report, the mismatch may be due to state standards to which high school teachers are held accountable. If the numerous content standards are a source of poor college performance, then we in the academy have the ability to address the problem much more quickly than our colleagues in secondary education. We do not have to wait for the time-consuming process of negotiating and rewriting new high school standards. Therefore, I think it is incumbent upon all faculty members who teach freshman and sophomore students to take more responsibility for teaching students college level skills. We need to teach these skills and strategies within the disciplines. It is too narrow-minded to think that our job is to only teach "content." If we all incorporate and intertwine these skills into our classes early in the student's career, students will be better armed to master our classes and to complete upper division coursework.

Years ago I decided that if a student completed all assignments, tests, and papers, that student would not receive an "F," even if he earned one. I figured a "D-" would still indicate poor performance. However, I never formalized that action; I merely made the resolution in my head. But in the fall of 2005, I began to issue student contracts where I listed my responsibilities as a professor and those of the student. I checked my document with the Registrar to ensure that I would not be breaking any academic policy. The contract lays out the expectations for studying and states that if the student does not miss more than two classes (except officially sanctioned athletic/music/speech & debate, etc.) and takes every examination and hands in all assignments, the student will pass the course. I rationalized that the formality of the commitment would encourage students to take my advice on studying and to give them confidence that if they upheld their end, they would surely pass the course--a similar rationale used in issuing employment contacts. It takes first-year students a while to realize that a "D-" is passing. My view is that a "D-" is not very much different from an "F" and yet the student still earns some quality points toward the grade point average. I have not yet met a student who does not have the talent or skills to at least marginally pass the first-year biology course--when I meet such a student, I will have to modify or stop using the contract. Students have signed the contract yet failed the course, because they did not honor their contractual responsibilities. If a student accepted and matriculated to college truly lacks academic skills and talents, then his performance in multiple courses will cause him to "flunk out". I am not a wimpy professor with an easy class. My class has a reputation for being quite difficult, but students also know that I try to help them and that they are not in a purposefully "weed out" class meant to demoralize and get rid of students.

In conclusion, I am advocating that every professor of first- and second-year students devise a personally deliberate and intentional strategy that encourages student success and provides guidance. I do not advocate "lowering the bar." I argue that teaching less content in exchange for teaching problem-solving, close reading, and test taking skills in the early courses and designing courses so that it is difficult to fail if they follow our advice is necessary to encourage and engage our current students. Leskes (2003) appropriately writes, "The competence of college graduates directly impacts P-12 education.... The better college study becomes for all students--the more rigorous, coherent, integrated, and related to the needs of contemporary society--the better it becomes, too, for prospective teachers" (p. 34). We all must share the responsibility for teaching students to succeed academically, to help them make the transition to the academy and thus to society in general. Indeed, I think we must do this to act professionally responsible in meeting students' needs as we prepare the next generation of leaders and citizens.

References

[The Montana Professor 18.1, Fall 2007 <http://mtprof.msun.edu>]