Buck Showalter's "Sixth Tool" - Measuring Heart

Allow me a brief baseball interlude during this October playoff season (for relevance sake, I will tie this into teaching, with only limited intellectual acrobatics, by the endpoint). 

The Baltimore Orioles were supposed to stink this year.  On paper, they looked terrible. Statistically speaking?  Terrible.  In the eyes of the experts?  Terrible.  A last place team waiting to happen.  Some predicted they would lose about 100 games.  Yet a funny thing happened on the way to cellar – the Orioles became….good.  Not good in the sense of setting your expectations to curb level, jumping onto the sidewalk, and celebrating exceeded expectation.  They are Yankee good.  That’s right, I said it:  Yankee good.   They are in the playoffs, a black and orange David, hurling change ups and curveballs at the bloated “Yankee, Inc.” Goliath.

How did this happen?  In baseball, players traditionally are measured on five different tools – power, batting average, throwing arm, fielding ability, and speed.  Prognosticators assessed too many Orioles lacking too many of these tools.  In the era of Big Data and Sabermetrics, nonplussed statisticians kept predicting an Oriole demise that never came.  Now, this is a logical point where this post could morph into a “Dear Buck Showalter, I am your biggest fan” valentine to the Orioles’ manager. [FN1]  I will resist, knowing that the greatness of Buck’s attention to every winning detail is documented elsewhere. [FN2]

I'll just say that for Buck and the Orioles, it must have been exhausting, politely answering the same question for six months, a million poorly disguised iterations of “why don’t you stink as much as we think you should?” [FN3] There are two constants in their year-long responses.  One is the reliance on setting high expectations.  We covered that last post.  Buck knows pygmalion.   The second is a reference to the cryptic “sixth tool”.   Here are two illustrative quotes from Buck:

“People kind of shake their heads about us statistically and how's this happened. But people who evaluate that sixth tool know what's going on. Put that on a pie chart.”

-and-

 “It’s hard to put a number on somebody’s heart and gut.  It’s the sixth tool.” 

The point:  looking beyond impressive credentials and good technique, character and courage matter, too.

All of this has relevance to teaching, too, I suspect.  

First, we can ask ourselves “what are the instructional equivalents of baseball’s five tools, the measurable abilities that lead to teaching success?”  Perhaps it is actually “seven tools,” as per Arthur Chickering's Seven Principles of Good Practice in Undergraduate Education? [FN4]

Secondly, what might be the teacher equivalent of Buck’s intangible “sixth tool”, the elements of character that fuel good teaching?  

Do “heart” and “gut” apply in the classroom as they do in baseball?  Or is that concept too sportsy and combat-ish?  Is there a different intangible that eludes the adjunct’s resume but can greatly impact learning?  Maybe passion? Passion for people?  Passion for the subject matter?  Passion for life?  Or maybe courage?  How about authenticity?

Some will say, if I cannot measure it, I will not invest in it.  My response is:  then let’s figure out the best ways to measure passion and courage and invest in them as much as we can.

Let’s go Orioles.

 [FN1] I recently found a letter in my basement, a draft letter to the Yankees written when I was eight. Adult life often is a search for clues about where in childhood the train left the tracks.  This letter does not explain all of the derailments but provides, perhaps, some insight to current vices: “I watch every game.  I bet my father and always take your team”.  The letter was proofed by my Mom and that line remained in the final letter to George Steinbrenner, et. al.

[FN2] Buck sets detailed organizational expectations that serve as a measuring stick for each member; either you are or are not the type of person who can play for the Orioles.  I like to think of you, the SPS adjunct, as being part of a likewise honorable select.  As part of the SPS family you are the type of person who can inspire adult students.

[FN3] I wonder if people sometimes underestimate adjunct instructors in the same fashion.  By focusing on the wrong credentials a good adjunct might be undervalued a la a Moneyball market inefficiency.  Give us a good person of sound character, someone with diverse knowledge and relevant experience, someone who possesses a desire to teach for the right reasons, and we can equip them with all the rest.

[FN4] Chickering’s Seven Principles of Good Practice are as follows:  (1) encourages contact between students and faculty, (2) develops reciprocity and cooperation among students, (3) encourages active learning, (4) gives prompt feedback, (5) emphasizes time on task, (6) communicates high expectations, and (7) respects diverse talents and ways of learning.   

The Power of Setting High Student Expectations - by Dr. Deirdre Letson

Audrey Hepburn as Eliza Doolittle

The correlation between setting high student expectations and student success has been established though research over the past number of years. Studies have shown that students achieve more when teachers expect more.  One study, conducted by Rosenthal and Jacobson (1968), posits that student success is largely a response to faculty expectations and their belief in success. Positive expectations influence performance positively, and negative expectations influence performance negatively. Rosenthal and Jacobson originally described the phenomenon as the Pygmalion Effect (a reference to the 1912 George Bernard Shaw play "Pygmalion") .  We might best let Shaw's dialogue explain the effect.  In a brief exchange between Eliza Doolittle and Colonel Pickering, Eliza says to the Colonel:

 “I shall always be a flower girl to Professor Higgins, because he always treats me as a flower girl, and always will; but I know I can be a lady to you, because you always treat me as a lady, and always will."

This exchange highlights the idea that a teacher’s belief in student success marked by the setting and communication of high expectations will, in fact, yield positive results. In part the Pygmalion effect is similar to a self-fulfilling prophecy where a person’s behavior is affected by an expectation, negative or positive, about a certain situation and where that expectation becomes fulfilled.

So you may be wondering how, as an instructor, do I set high expectations that motivate students to be successful in meeting the challenges of a rigorous curriculum. Below are but a few ideas.

•  Keep a positive attitude and promote enthusiasm. Promoting a “can do” environment will have a positive effect on student success.

•  Communicate your expectations clearly and concisely prior to the first night of class.  You can do this in your welcome message.  Let the students know that the work will be challenging and at times hard but that this is manageable and achievable with the right amount of effort.  

• Review with your students the course expectations set forth in the syllabus. Discuss grading, the amount of time you expect the student to dedicate to their studies, participation, attendance, content mastery, and skill development.  Let your students know what it takes to be successful.

• Provide continual and frequent feedback that is connected to the course goals. Let them know what they are doing well, what needs improvement, and what you expect.  It is easy to give positive feedback and avoid giving feedback that seeks improvement, but if delivered well, this type of feedback will help the student improve their performance.

• Set high expectations for yourself.  Raise the bar on your own teaching standards and set milestones to meet these standards.  Be prepared, provide meaningful, frequent feedback, and never underestimate the influence you can have on a student.

In conclusion, setting high student expectations is a fundamental part of the learning environment, and how we communicate these expectations cannot be underestimated. As we know, students will rise to meet the challenges we set forth, and it is our job to assist our students in doing so.

Robert Frost describes in his poem The Road Not Taken how he came to two diverging roads and selected the one less traveled. He states, “I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.” Perhaps the road less traveled was more challenging, but by taking it, Frost becomes a better person for having done so.

Dr. Deirdre Letson is the Dean of Centenary College's School of Professional Studies.  She holds an Ed.D. in Organizational Leadership - Higher Education and a M.A. in Administration & Supervision of Adult Education.

"Tense Present" - In Defense of Standard Written English

Eleven years ago David Foster Wallace wrote “TensePresent,” an essay defending Standard Written English (SWE).  The essay is brilliant, a descriptor I use sparingly and reserve for the truly magnificent things in life. [FN1]  It is one of those things you read and, when through, get a wobbly shocked-and-awed sensation and feel the need to share it, immediately, with everyone you care about and respect. 

The essay fronts as a book review of a dictionary but ultimately explores salvaging Standard Written English as our common and unfailing means of communication.  DFW was a prescriptivist, arguing in favor of preserving the rules of language rather than bending to a relativistic acceptance of usage-is-as-usage-does.  Just because people are butchering the language regularly, it does not follow that the rules have been butchered and served raw to the ghosts of snobbery past.  [FN2] Mass misusage does not dictate surrender for usage proper.   Otherwise, ham-fingered text messages and choppy “sent from my iPad” emails become the norm.  Is that what we want?  Are we willing to absorb the loss of clarity and precision that follows?   

    

Many English teachers use the article as a stage setter in their comp and rhetoric classes.   The rules of the English language can be archaic and untidy;  DFW realized this;  hence, students need to learn the “why” – the function, the beauty of SWE -- before they learn to accept it and love it and use it (and then become evangelical and spread it).  I super-highly recommend this article to our English instructors.  I highly recommend it to all others.

As caretakers of the SPS educational product, the duty is ours – all instructors, whether we teach English or philosophy or science or, dare I say it, math! –  to ensure all SPS graduates can communicate clearly, concisely, and precisely.

Our students must be able to write and present their ideas clearly.  And that will not happen by means of one great English class.  Communication must be taught and reinforced, class by class.

 

I know, I know.   You’re not an English teacher so how can you be entrusted to teach writing?  Consider each discipline as a separate dialect, a variation on Standard Written English, with special rules and unique words and particularized formats.  Start with that because that you know.   Law instructors can teach students to communicate as lawyers (and no, that doesn’t mean teaching them to lie; don’t be cute).  Quantitative instructors can teach students how to talk in statistics (if you are fluent in Excel are you bilingual?).  You know more than you think about writing and communicating. 

Writing-across-the-curriculum is an institutional and departmental goal.  We should make it part of our individual goals too.   

We will be holding a workshop on this topic in the fall and providing resources and materials throughout the year.  Stay tuned.  In the meantime, please read TensePresent.  It is worth your time. [FN3]

[FN1] For illustrations of what qualifies as truly magnificent consider Bill Murray in Wes Anderson movies, Marcella Hazan’s cookbooks, anything with a Werner Herzog voiceover, Breakfast Stout, or placing pork cheek on top of French Fries (bless you, Jennifer Jasinski, of Euclid Hall and Rioja).

[FN2] The beautiful thing about DFW as an advocate for SWE is that he was not a George Will-ish type adorned with bow-ties and crisply parted hair.  This was a scruffy, long-haired, occasionally doo-ragged writer preserving snooty, conservative ground. 

  

[FN3] This footnote simply is a nod to the greatness that is DFW’s use of footnotes.  He once wrote a 67-page letter, replete with footnotes, to break up with his girlfriend.

Putting the Focus on Learning (Conquering the Grade-Centric Mindset)

Would it surprise you to hear that one of sport’s greatest coaches never mentioned “winning” to his players?   To John Wooden, the longtime head coach of UCLA basketball, winning was an end result.  He wanted his players attendant to the journey, focused on doing the right things, the right way, every day.  Winning is the by-product of those labors.  And some days the best effort results in losses and the worst results in wins.   He asked his players to give all, save none, and do their best.  If that resulted in winning, great.  And Wooden’s teams, their focus elsewhere than on winning, won an awful lot. **

I think you will enjoy this short video clip of Wooden discussing his teaching philosophy:  John Wooden Defines Success (also linked at the end of this post)

Why do I share this?  No, SPS is not starting a basketball team (and even if it were, they would not be looking to a 5’4” ex-lawyer to spearhead the effort).   I share this because it provides a blueprint for getting our students focused on the learning process (the journey) rather than on final grades (the by-product of that journey).

We are not A’s or B’s or C’s.  We are what we know, what we do, and what we believe.  We are the effort we put forth, the potential we realize.  Grades are ephemeral transcript notations; true learning we keep as our own.  How do we help our students understand that, so they can emerge from the haziness of GPA fever and hunger not for A’s but for the means to keep getting better?

Suppose a student comes into Quantitative Analysis with zero understanding of the topic or its purpose.  Inspired by the passionate instructor (let’s call him Prof. Tom B.), the student identifies the course’s treasures,  redoubles effort to obtain them,  puts in extra time-on-task, devours Prof. Tom B.’s timely and useful feedback, and gets a final grade of, heaven help us, 87 (B+).   This student went from zero to 87 in eight weeks.  That’s the value, the scope of knowledge gained.   Despair awaits a student in this situation who laments falling short of an A instead of understanding the extraordinary situational value of this B+. 

  

Now imagine a student who came into the same class but with solid quantitative background and coasted to an 87 (B+).  Both students earned the same grade but with much different value gained because the rigors and splendors of their journeys differed.   The final grades are accurate and fair as they represent the ultimate mastery demonstrated by the student (equal).  But the first student has gained more.  This need not be reflected in the grade, as it is not what grades are for (in my mind).  Grades measure mastery.  The value added, the distance traveled, is recouped personally by the student in terms of human betterment and self-efficacy. 

  

Coach Wooden talked about those days when his teams worked hard and expended their best effort but faced a superior opponent.  Even if his team lost that day, he taught them how to evaluate their own effort, to understand that wins and losses were mere by-products and not the true measure of their ultimate success.

Learning is a culture.  As instructors we are cultural icons in our classrooms.  In that role we can focus our students on the learning journey, liberating them to value effort and quality and let the grades fall where they may.  We must help our students understand and recognize the situation where a hard-earned B+ in one class might be better than an easy A they earned in another. 

**If you prefer the same philosophy but in a different context, consider Eric Rippert’s approach to running a world renowned restaurant:

Jeff Haden:  [L]e Bernardin has received four stars from The New York Times for a record 26 years in a row, with you as executive chef for 18 of those years. How?

Eric Ripert: As much as we don't take for granted our four stars and any awards we have received, we do not think about these on a daily basis--our focus is solely on the kitchen preparing the best food and front of house providing the best service possible.

Click here for the full interview with Chef Ripert from Inc.com.

Grade Inflation and the "Process of Learning" by Dr. Wojciech Mrozek

Dr. Wojciech Mrozek

Paradoxically, the inflation of grades in the U.S. universities and colleges is neither about the grades nor their inflation.  If this was the case, then the solution could be straightforward: since the grades are inflated, one just has to lower every grade from A to B, from B to C and so on. Yet, the solution is not that simple, because the problem is bigger than the grades. I would argue that the problem is directly related to the crisis of the educational system. 

What is the purpose of education? Why do we learn? Why do people pay money (in some cases a substantial amount of money) in order to attend a school? The typical answers to those questions are as follow: “I need that degree to earn more money.” “I need to graduate to advance in my career.”  “I have to become more competitive in the job market.” To be honest, those statements are perfectly fine, but they cannot be the main reasons why we learn.  Yet, as long as we choose to answer those questions in a very pragmatic way, we will face the problem of focusing our attention on the highest possible grades earned. In other words, as long as education is seen as a commodity that can simply be bought and sold, or as an investment that can bring about a certain profit, then the grades are going to be the most important part of the learning process.  The investments must pay off the highest interests, meaning the highest grades because the investor expects the highest profit (the highest grades), and the institutions of higher education do not want to disappoint their investors (students). If that is the case, then the students, whether labeled as consumers or investors, would demand the highest possible grades and challenge any grade that does not fulfill their expectations. The outcome of such an approach is the “entitlement attitude” on the part of the students, and the “compliance attitude” on the part of the educational institution. Yet, I strongly believe that education is not a commodity, it has value in itself and the grades should be seen as a byproduct and not the main focus of the learning process.

Furthermore, I believe that education is not simply about teaching. It is primarily about learning. Education is not merely about what I teach, but it is more about what you learn. I believe that if the emphasis is on the latter, then the pressure of getting the highest grade would be minimized, and the students would gradually realize that the goal of education is not purely the final grade (which still is important), but the comprehension and skills they have discovered through their learning experience.

Unfortunately, there is not a simple solution to the problem of grade inflation. However, I believe that the initial step that may lead to a gradual solution is to change the focus of education from earning grades or degrees to learning and experiencing something new. If the students (and the instructors) increasingly change the focus from the grades to the learning process, then, I believe, we are on the right path. Instead of asking, “What grade did I get” one should ask, “What have I learned?” “How can I improve?” “Have I really achieved my best?”

Of course, we still needs grades, we have to recognize the achievements and accomplishments of every individual learner. The question is how to do it?

In every human interaction, there is a certain tension between subjectivity and objectivity. The relationship between the students and the instructor is not excluded from this tension. Yet, subjectivity is not only the problem of the instructor who is grading a paper; the student has his or her subjective interpretation too. Now, the question transforms into: Can any grade be ever objective? 

There is a further tension between objectivity and fairness. Which grade is objective? Which grade is fair? Does objective mean fair? What should we emphasize, objectivity or fairness? Should we pay attention to both?

Another tension is between the process of learning and the final product. While grading, are we looking at the final product or at the process? Are we rewarding just the basic value of the assignment or the work involved in accomplishing the assignment? Are we helping the student to achieve his/her best potentials (thus learning) or just judging the final paper? (I do not even know who wrote the final paper. See: The Chronicle of Higher Education, November 12, 2010. The Shadow Scholar. The man who writes your students' papers tells his story.)

Still another tension is between the uniqueness and individuality of every student and the standardization of the students’ achievements. We live in a society where individuality is highly regarded, almost essential to our identity as human beings. On the other hand, when it comes to education, we have standardized, numeric tests to define the value of a particular achievement, which effectively destroy individuality.

If the goal of education is achieving certain standards, then what should the standards be? Should it be the accomplishment of certain numeric values? Or the standard should be defined in terms of learning, widening horizons, growing and experiencing oneself and the outside world in a new and a very personal and individual way? The question is then, how do we measure the achievements? How do we recognize the individual accomplishments?

Dr. Mrozek is an adjunct instructor with Centenary College's School of Professional Studies; he teaches courses in Religion, Philosophy, and Academic Foundations.

Frank Longo Receives 2011 CAPS Adjunct Excellence Award

At the faculty workshop on Saturday, June 18, 2011 we proudly presented the 2011 CAPS Adjunct Excellence Award to Mr. Frank Longo.

Frank teaches finance and accounting in the CAPS program.

When students attest that Frank takes the mystery out of finance and, moreover, convinces them that "finance is fun", you know a special teacher is in your midst.

The selection process was multi-faceted. We first cemented the criteria: "The winner should be an instructor who brings not only knowledge and expertise into the classroom, but also passion for the material, respect and care for the students, a patient and uplifting demeanor, and a genuine love for teaching. Ultimately, this instructor's students achieve deep learning in a meaningful and relevant fashion" ** see footnote below **

We next asked students to nominate instructors based on that criteria; they embraced the request: 47 students submitted nominations, in some cases accompanied by a page-long testament, and 25 different instructors received nominations. Read these stats as you will, but I think an easy take-away is that your students appreciate the efforts behind quality teaching and will go out of their way to acknowledge it.

Finally, a panel of 5 CAPS staff members reviewed each nomination and thoroughly deliberated until consensus was reached.

How did we decide upon Frank Longo? The words of his students (below) will provide you the answer.

“He has a genuine love for teaching”

“He connects with his students”

“His passion for the course comes through with transferred excitement”

“He makes our entire class want to be taught”

“He has the ability to effectively identify and address individual needs of students while moving the whole class forward effectively.”

“He has a willingness to work with our class until we get what is being taught. If it takes additional hours to get us there, he puts in those hours.”

“His teaching approach is multi-faceted providing an enriched learning environment.”

“He used a variety of tools for learning.”

“He understands that finance is a course that builds.”

“His use of humor keeps students motivated and engaged.”

“He has the most patience of anyone I know.”

“He gave me the confidence to really break through and understand.”

“He helped me to see that finance is fun or in my case a whole lot less scary.”

Congratulations, Frank, and thank you for your hard work, your dedication to your students, and your commitment to teaching excellence.

**A footnote: You should know that we had Scott Williams in mind when setting our criteria for this award. A model adjunct and good friend, Scott passed away in December; he was a quiet mentor to many and an irreplaceable part of the CAPS fabric. When Scott offered advice it was wise to listen. Unfailingly honest and caring, he worked from the assumption that his students and colleagues had the responsibility -- and the ability -- to set and meet high expectations. Too late, I know, but to honor his good works we named Scott as an honorary recipient of the CAPS Adjunct Excellence Award.

In Memory of our Friend, Scott R. Williams