Showing posts with label learning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label learning. Show all posts

Sunday, June 29, 2014

the bogus of enrollments

Institutions are in their very essence hypocritical about their aims, methods, and practices, a fortiori when an institution of “higher learning” claims that its “high” aim is nothing but “knowledge,” the common good, or “Jesuit education” and the goodness of the world.

So it was no surprise to detect that level hypocrisy in a letter from the Chair of our department addressed to me in late January apropos my “low” enrollments. (Full text below, letter #1) (A letter always reaches its destination, says Jacques Lacan.)

Even though the letter seems to be written in a “consensual” “friendly” tone, albeit with cowardly undertones, that “friendliness” is precisely the problem. Thus, while placing “loyalty” in the institution of higher learning that employs us both as tenured professors for over 20 years, what the letter lacks is that institutional objectivity: the simple fact that if my enrollments have been lower than they should in the past couple of years, it is for no other reason due to objective institutional changes which have nothing to do with me (nor with the Chair for that matter) as an individual.

Yet the whole tone of the letter is individualistic, addressing enrollement as if it is “my” problem, while maintaining that bogus institutional loyalty as the bearer of “higher principles” of learning (Jesuit and Catholic education and all that crap). Universities are known to thrive on the non-said, which is a general non-dit policy down to the most mundane memos.

From the beginning, the letter comes directly to the point, addressing the problem of “my” low enrollments in fours seminars in Fall 2013 and Spring 2014. Considering that the Chair and myself both work in the History department (with a big H), two semesters do not seem much of a time framework either historically or statistically for that matter. So why did the Chair, who seems to appreciate historical time in his research (on the British monarchy), not check my enrollments in the last five years (at least since my return from the Institute for Advanced Study at Princeton in 2009), comparing them with broader institutional patters.

As the letter de facto criminalizes me for my low enrollments, making me responsible for what happened (again, without explicitly naming the criminal act(s), for being, say, “hard” on students, “irresponsible,” élitist, and so on), it fails to mention the essential, namely, that enrollments have shifted due to strategic changes in the core requirements, which, in turn, have prompted changes in the departmental requirements.

To solve the mystery problem of low enrollments, the letter engages in a vicious circle: to reach a “decent” enrollment, which is set at 100 for a 2:2 load like mine (“research intensive,” another one of those bogus terms), I must teach 3 courses in the Fall 2014 on a 3:2 load, but now the minimum enrollment should be in the order of 125. The Russian roulette continues until we reach the maximum 4:4 load for a 200 minimum. To reach such “demanding” numbers, the only solution is to load one’s schedule with tons of useless core courses. Adieu à la liberté, bonjour tristesse, vive la fraternité! Adieu au langage, as Jean-Luc Godard would say.

Loyola has been toying with the cash-machine of the “core” since eternity, but it was only in 2003–05 that this Jesuit (and Catholic) institution of higher learning (and knowledge) finally found its Eureka moment: to transform the “core” into a capitalist enterprise one must include every possible subject on the planet, from western and non-western civilizations to terrorism and Boko Haram. In other words, the “core” became truly “Boko.” We should name it the Boko-core. Moreover, departments, in light of the new core, started changing their own requirements accordingly. For example, a “world history” course, history 299, which was a requirement for “international studies” students, was no more required since 2012–13. Instead of the 35 students I would normally get, I had only two in Spring 2014.

At the time, when Loyola made its great discovery on über-capitalism (a.k.a. Jesuit education), I was a visiting professor at Aleppo University, the major industrial city in the Syrian north. The then Chair sent me a “good news” letter informing me that “Islam” (whatever thay may mean) is now part of the core, and that I could, if I wanted to, offer “Islam” within the core. I’ve responded that the “good news” must coincide with the end of the core-as-core, as it had lost, through extensive inclusion of non-western societies and civilizations, and various topoi, its heart and soul, becoming more of a shopping mall and a supermarket of ideas. Equally important, I predicted, the “special topics” seminars would lose both their status and momentum; indeed, I thought that all 300-level courses would be affected. That’s particularly true of someone like yours truly living from a “minor” field, whose courses are not “required,” and with no openings to graduate studies and upper-level dissertations. Needless to say, it looks pretty much clear in hindsight that the killing of the 300-level seminars was pretty much a deliberate institutional policy, as those courses look less “profitable” than the fully capped core courses. (See letter #2 below)

When I returned to Chicago in Fall 2005, after a two-year absence, we developed with colleagues working on Islam, the Near and Middle East, North Africa, and east and central Asia, a “minor” that we decided to call “Islamic World Studies” (IWS). Our main aim was precisely to counter the “crisis” of the lack of variety in the 300-level special-topics offerings for “minor” areas like ours. We naïvely reasoned that if we could sign in 50 to 80 students into the IWS minor, we would not be cursed forever with low-enrollments at the 300-level. By 2006–07 we had 60 students joining in, which enabled me to offer topoi like “the middle east on film,” “Iran,” Egypt,” “Turkey” and “the Arab uprisings,” with 20 students on average. We got $3,000–$5,000 grants on newly designed seminars from the Department of Education in D.C. to promote novel ideas and expose students to new topics.

In 2009–10, upon my return from Princeton, my enrollments were at their highest, so were they in 2010–11. The decline in numbers started in earnest in 2011–12, albeit modestly, as an outcome of the “reforms” that were worked out in 2003–05, and they accelerated further in the following year, until we reached a low point in 2013–14. The IWS has now only 20 students, and a seminar on the “Ottoman Empire,” scheduled for Spring 2014, had to be cancelled because it had “only” 8 students by Christmas. The lucky 8 students received their providential cancellation Christmas time. No one has offered such a seminar in 20 years, and possibly throughout the university’s long history.

Nor is this cowardly cancellation of courses limited to history. A friend of mine got his "philosophy of religion" seminar canceled in November 2013 for no other reason than it had missed the 10-student mark a couple of months before the beginning of the new semester in mid-January. Instead, he had to teach four identical "ethics" core courses, capped at 35 each: some will die teaching the core, the same way some die from eating too much chocolate. Needless to say, it has become impossible to plan for a more coherent thematic approach in teaching and writing in such an environment.

It does not require a rocket scientist to realize that the problem of enrollment is institutional. The university has spent in the last decade close to $500 million (and counting) on projects to “renovate” its various campuses, making them more agreeable to the body and soul, hence, it goes without saying that it needs the cashing-machine of the core to service its debt. In other words, it operates like a banana republic economy which is grossly indebted to hungry investors and banks, while surviving annually only by servicing its mounting debt. Debt aside, Loyola faces another crucial problem, namely, the fact that no more than half of the students are able to make it in four years for graduation, compared to 86 percent for our neighbor Northwestern, which fairs poorly for the university in its “national ratings.” So all this shuffle between core and requirements has no other purpose but to give students a college degree without much work.

Which is precisely the problem in American higher education in the last decades. Colleges and Universities of sorts attempt to become lucrative not by improving content and knowledge, but by opening up to entertainment, at least for the arts and humanities and social sciences. It’s a live or die situation where the high expenses of learning could only be met if the institution transforms itself into a machinery for promoting investment capital.



letter #1
Dear Zouhair,

I am sorry that we have not had a chance to speak since I became chair.  I write to you now on a matter of some seriousness.

As you may know, I am required to monitor the enrollments of all faculty in the Department. According to the latest figures, your two courses for this term, Hist 300E-001 and Hist 299E-001 have enrolled five and two students, respectively. This comes after a Fall semester that saw 13 students take your Hist 322-001 and 5 take your Hist 299E-00. In addition, you supervised a Provost Fellow in HIST 399, for a total across the academic year of 26 students.   

Unfortunately, those numbers are not appropriate or financially sustainable for a faculty member with a 2-2 teaching load in the College. According to the Department of History Standards for Research-Intensive and Research-Active Faculty (adopted by the department and approved by the Dean in the Fall of 2010):

As a general rule, faculty should average approximately 25 students per class. Research-intensive faculty with a 2-2 load should teach at least 100 students per year; research-active faculty with a 3-2 load should teach at least 125 students per year. Faculty with 3-3 teaching loads should teach at least 150 students per year; those with 4-4 loads, 200 students per year. Exceptions are granted with the approval of the chair and/or dean. 

In addition, the Principles and Normative Guidelines on Faculty Instructional Responsibilities, approved by President on October 20, 2009 (available on the Academic Affairs web-site as the Loyola University Chicago Faculty Instructional Responsibilities:  http://www.luc.edu/academicaffairs/pdfs/Faculty_Instructional_Responsibilities_2009__rev_3-11.pdfindicate that "Undergraduate courses that enroll under 10 students do not generally qualify as fulfilling this course load, except with permission of the Dean as may be necessary to delivery of a particular program."  

As a result, after consultation with the Dean, it has been determined that your total enrollment of seven students this semester cannot count for two courses.  Though it does not reach the threshold of one course, we have decided to count it as one.  In order to fulfill your commitment to the College as a research intensive faculty member (2-2 load), you will be required to teach three courses next semester (Fall 2014).  In order to approximate the required number of students, we will ask you to teach at least one section of Core (History 104 or, if you prefer, History 101) and possibly two, in addition to one or two upper division courses (your choice of Hist 312, 313 or 322) for a combined total of three.

I cannot imagine that this E Mail will be welcome to you.  Please understand that it is not intended to be punitive and I take no pleasure in having to write it.  As you may recall, I have read your work, Zouhair.  It addresses many subjects, but one of the most important is that of institutions.  As we would both agree, institutions have shared cultures and specific requirements of their members.  This initiative is intended to help you to justify the salary paid you by the institution that granted you tenure, as well as to assist you to participate more fully and rewardingly in its life.

If you wish to discuss this in person, I am in the chair's office most afternoons. In any case, I look forward to your response. 

Bob

Robert Bucholz, D.Phil.; F.R.Hist.S.
Professor and Chair
Department of History
Loyola University, Chicago
1032 N. Sheridan Road
Chicago, IL 60660
773-508-2594


letter #2
Marcia Hermansen on 11/19/13:

HI and thanks for supporting the program.

I will be happy to help you promote classes to get more enrollments.  300 enrollments are also down in Theology.

Due to changes in core beyond my control--the IWS program now has only 20 Minors rather than 60--this may also be a factor so plan for less interest from that quarter in 300 courses in future semesters.

Best wishes,

Marcia

Marcia Hermansen
Director, Islamic World Studies Program
Theology Department
Loyola University Chicago
1032 W. Sheridan Road,
Chicago, Il 60660
773-508-2345 (office)

Friday, June 27, 2014

dept. of education

Chicago, 5 April 2013

Dear Dean Reinhard Andress,

Thank you for receiving me in your office in mid-March, and I apologize for the delay in responding to your email.

During our conversation, I made it clear that a major reason for my reluctance to submit my annual assessment form to the Chair of the History Department since January 2010 was the unwillingness of our department to make public the relevant data that would correlate teaching evaluations with grading and other matters.

In the last few years, beginning with the departmental committee report that evaluated my request for promotion to the rank of professor, and further assessments by the Chair, the students’ evaluations have become the most contentious issue. In our meeting last month, you read to me what you perceived as “negative comments” by the students, and in your letter you mention that “your teaching is problematical because of a significant number of negative comments by students.” And you add that “I see you as not fully complying with your teaching responsibilities.” First of all, I don’t know what “significant” means here, since the department has failed to provide us with any relevant figures that would correlate evaluations, grading, and the quality of teaching. In effect, since the students’ evaluations have become computerized around 2005–06 through a new system, I’ve requested from the Chairs of our department to provide us with relevant data that would situate the evaluations for each professor in relation to his or her colleagues. Such data would include at the very minimum the class average for grading and assessment; the standard deviation for each course/seminar and the overall average; the correlation between each professor’s performance and that of the department; and the distribution of grades for individual courses and seminars and the department as a whole.

To wit, there is a national problem of grade inflation, well documented in the academic and journalistic literatures, and to which the department and university are willingly not paying much attention. Consequently, those of us who have our courses and seminars structured on rigorous readings and grading of papers and assignments are punished for not fitting with the mysterious and unpublicized “general curve” of grading and behaving. It is no secret, however, notwithstanding absent data about grading and the performance of students and their professors, that 50 percent of Loyola’s students fail to receive their bachelor degrees within the four-year period normally assigned to them, and that this may in turn point to a major structural weakness in the performance of students, in spite of Loyola’s lenient requirements.

Should professors like myself, who have been at the service of the university for 20 years, be punished just few years before their retirement, simply for assigning first-class readings, and for providing rigorous comments and grading to their students’ papers? During our conversation in your office, you have quoted what you perceive as so-called “negative comments” by some of my students, which were randomly accumulated by the departmental Chair. Besides the fact that such statements would only produce circumstantial and anecdotal evidence at best, they should not be used for purposes of tenure/promotion and the renewal of contracts, unless, of course, they are substantiated by statistical evidence for the totality of courses and seminars offered by the department in a semester. Moreover, the so-called “negative comments” are taken for granted for what is perceived as negative. When, for example, a student claims that “the professor’s lectures are too long and incomprehensible,” shouldn’t we inquire further and check whether this student has read the assignment, cares about the content of the assignment (the assigned book), and if so, whether his/her dissatisfaction stems from any differences of interpretation, or is indicative of something else? Or when a student claims that “the essay’s prompt is vague, if not incomprehensible,” shouldn’t we pursue the question further and ask her whether she has read the texts upon which the prompt was based? And if so, does she care about the texts she has read? Do they mean anything to her?

Why are you confronting me only with the negatives? Why not look at what “positive” comments have to say, and, again, confront such comments with a rigorous test of quality in order to see what they have in turn to say about what Loyola has to offer—or what it fails to offer?

There is the desire of a consumer society to avoid learning curves. This tends to result in dumbed-down products that are easily started but compromised in value and application. Shouldn’t we contrast this with teaching experiences that do have learning curves, but pay off well and allow students and teachers to become well versed in reading and writing? For over 20 years I’ve committed myself to demanding learning curves in my writing and teaching, and I want to pursue along that path.

Sincerely,

Zouhair Ghazzal
Professor of historical and social sciences
Department of History
zghazza@luc.edu



Post-Scriptum:
Regarding my writing and research, I prefer to be read rather than simply graded. For that purpose I made public all my contributions since 2009–10:

Additional material is available here: