I asked readers if they’ve done something similar and wanted to share examples here.
Carrie Hall, an English instructor at Kennebec Valley Community College, in Maine, describes her approach this way:
“I do something similar, but I actually have the students review the outcomes/objectives of the course and make a case for how we met them with the assignments and/or readings we completed.
“This helps with their metacognition and also helps me to know if there are areas of the outcomes that I am not explicitly covering. Or, if an assignment is too confusing for students to see how it helped us meet the objectives.
“As an ancillary part of this, I ask them to comment on what texts and assignments resonated most and solicit suggestions for activities or readings that they think could help next semester’s class meet the objectives. They often have great ideas that inspire some of my revisions from semester to semester.
“I label this work as a final reflection, but based on this week’s article, I might more directly call it a syllabus review because I find that students feel valued when they are asked to contribute to decisions about the class.”
Katie Trumpener, a professor of comparative literature and English at Yale University, wrote in to say that she has been doing syllabus reviews for several decades, with both undergraduates and graduates. She writes:
“On the last day, we spend about half an hour going over the syllabus, discussing how it was put together, what students liked/loved/disliked, discussing what might be done differently.
“I find it has a lot of different functions, all valuable:
- Students come away remembering the logic of the class — or point out that the logic didn’t entirely work, or [was] bogged down. (When I was an undergrad, I realized, in one breakthrough course, that if I went back to the syllabus, near the end of the course, thought about how it was constructed, and reread most of the reading, I could definitely ace the final. Aha! Thinking like the professor.)
- It is a cathartic experience and a final group-bonding experience. Students get a last chance to articulate joy, frustration, love for specific texts. I try to make it jocular: would you vote this off the island, or let it stay? remember that week when we all hated the reading (or didn’t finish reading it)? why did that go wrong, do you think? does this text just no longer speak to students now?
- It takes the students behind the scenes and shows me to them in a new light — as someone who tinkers, who makes mistakes, who actively tries to figure out how to help them learn but misjudges sometimes. …
- This enables students to say what they thought the class lacked, i.e., more historical overview at the beginning. There were too many of this kind of text, and we got worn down.
“I sometimes hear back from old students who specifically mention this exercise at the end as a good, even special thing — a sign I was really listening, cared about their feedback, wanted to improve the class for them, took their frustrations seriously. … I’m always trying to build a discussion that is intense but friendly, open-ended, curious. So I find these kind of ‘workshop moments’/’how could we do this better’? really help everyone get into the right spirit!”
More summer reading
Throughout the summer, we’ll be passing along readers’ responses to our question about what book has helped shape their teaching. Last week, Beckie rolled out the first set of recommendations, all of which connect brain science to the work of teaching. This week I’m highlighting books that have helped instructors stay motivated, energize their teaching, and reckon with burnout.
Dave Heitman, an assistant professor of leadership and director of graduate studies at Jessup University, recommends The Courage to Teach: Exploring the Inner Landscape of a Teacher’s Life, by Parker J. Palmer. “Wonderful first read on the topic of teaching as a first-year assistant professor,” he wrote. “Invaluable content and perspective that I find myself revisiting periodically to ensure I’m still orientated properly as an educator.”
Courtney Gibbons, an associate professor of mathematics at Hamilton College, in New York, recommends Mathematics for Human Flourishing, by Francis Su. “This book is a beautiful reminder that the study of mathematics is a liberal art,” Gibbons wrote. “In each chapter, Dr. Su links mathematics to a virtue (like “play” and “beauty” and “justice”) and illustrates how much more there is to the discipline beyond utility. In an age of data and AI, this book rehumanizes mathematics — and it helped me remember why *I* fell in love with math as a student.”
Jeanne S. Anderson, an adjunct faculty-development coordinator at Waubonsee Community College, in Illinois, and adjunct instructor of English at Elgin and Waubonsee Community Colleges and College of DuPage, recommends Unraveling Faculty Burnout: Pathways to Reckoning and Renewal, by Rebecca Pope-Ruark. “Burnout resilience is essential in today’s higher-education culture. You can love the institution, but it will never love you back. This book offers a practical framework to protect yourself from burnout.”
Want to suggest a book to newsletter readers? It’s not too late: Please use this form.
ICYMI
- How might ChatGPT benefit or harm students with disabilities? I explore that topic in my latest story.
- Dread reading your course evaluations? In this Chronicle advice piece, Jane S. Halonen and Dana S. Dunn explain how to take advantage of the most useful feedback and build a proper defense against the most hurtful critiques.
- Professors are struggling with student disengagement. But many of the ideas surrounding a “return to rigor” will only make the problem worse, writes Kevin Gannon in this Chronicle advice piece.
Thanks for reading Teaching. If you have suggestions or ideas, please feel free to email us at beckie.supiano@chronicle.com or beth.mcmurtrie@chronicle.com.
— Beth
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