|
Spring 2007
Margarette Goss, senior office associate, saysworking with students is the best part of her job.
First impressions matter. That’s why the UWC is delighted that Margarette Goss
has signed on as Senior Office Associate.
In that role Goss is often the first person clients see when they walk through
the door, as well as the voice they hear when calling for an appointment. Her
warm demeanor and confident efficiency put everyone at ease.
“We’re so thankful
to have her on board,” says UWC Executive Director Valerie Balester. “She sets
just the right tone for the office.”
Goss’ responsibilities include managing
the office for a UWC staff that continues to grow. Currently the writing center
employs four full-time staff members, several part-time workers, and 36 consultants.
She also handles paperwork and administrative tasks for the W course approval
process, a job that often puts her in contact with faculty.
Goss, who previously
worked at the Texas Transportation Institute, is pleased to be part of the
UWC staff.
“I love working at the writing center because I get to interact with the students
and consultants,” Goss says. “I’m really in awe of the consultants and the
knowledge they have. They’re also a lot of fun and make the writing center
a great place to work.”
|
|
Dr. Terri Flateby, director of assessment at the University of South Florida, presents a UWC-sponsored workshop on assessing writing Feb. 21 during the assessment conference hosted by Texas A&M.
Instructors who give writing assignments are all too familiar with grading
students’ written work. They’re typically less familiar, though, with assessing
student writing. The latter is concerned not with evaluating the performance
of individuals, but rather with identifying overall patterns of strengths and
weaknesses in student work to find ways to teach both writing and course material
more effectively.
For Dr. Terri Flateby, that’s an important distinction and one she hopes
writing instructors will give more attention.
Flateby, director of assessment at the University of South Florida, came to
Texas A&M in February to present a workshop on writing assessment. The
workshop, sponsored by the University Writing Center, offered faculty a chance
to think about how writing can enhance their pedagogical goals.
For Flateby, writing assessment means “looking at the aggregate and asking
what is it students are doing well in general and what is it they’re not doing
as well and what can we do to improve?” Those questions should lead back, Flateby
says, to additional reflection on instructional methods, assignment design,
and curriculum mapping.
To facilitate writing assessment, Flateby and her colleague Elizabeth Metzger
have created an assessment tool known as the Cognitive Level and Quality Writing
Assessment (CLAQWA.) The instrument is designed both to give specific feedback
on writing and to help instructors determine the cognitive level achieved in
a text.
The emphasis on cognitive development is one of the things that sets CLAQWA
apart from most other assessment instruments. For Flateby, identifying the
level of thinking students’ exhibit in their work is crucial and something
she believes instructors should consider from the outset.
“I think it’s very important when an assignment is developed for the instructor
to think about the cognitive level students need to reach in that assignment,”
Flateby explains. “Faculty often think they’re asking students to analyze or
synthesize, when in fact they’re just asking students to explain something.
So, the faculty member is disappointed, believing students haven’t done what
was requested.”
“Faculty sometimes hesitate to give writing assignments because the writing
is so poor,” Flateby acknowledges. But she believes there are tools that can
help make reading student papers a less onerous task.
One of the many offshoots of the CLAQWA tool, for instance, is a version designed
for peer review. It’s very popular on Flateby’s home campus and Flateby herself
has become a strong believer in the value of having students respond to the
writing of their peers.
“We have faculty who will not give a writing assignment without peer review,”
Flateby says. “They feel so strongly about it because they’ve seen how the
writing improves.”
Students do have to be given some guidance in how to comment effectively,
though. “An instructor can’t just say ‘Review each other’s papers,’” Flateby
says. But with appropriate instruction, she feels the results can be impressive.
When asked about the upcoming program- level assessment of Texas A&M’s
W course initiative, Flateby encourages faculty here to recognize that any
kind of assessment is an iterative process.
“Assessment can be an evolution,” she observes. “It doesn’t have to be perfect.”
She herself would like to see universities integrate writing into many more
courses: “I’m a strong believer in having writing not only in an actual W course,
but having writing continue throughout the curriculum. If writing is isolated,
students don’t understand the importance of it.”
She compares learning to write to learning to play the piano: if pianists
become proficient, but then stop playing, what happens?
“If they go back to playing years later, the proficiency is not going to be
the same, and they’re not going to develop and learn nuances,” says Flateby.
“There’s an important analogy there. We have to continue to develop students’
writing throughout the curriculum and in various disciplines.”
|
|
|
What do you do when you’re reading a student’s paper and come upon an especially
confusing passage? What if the syntax is mangled or the ideas contradictory?
Do you jot words in the margin? Do you cross out redundant phrases and correct
punctuation errors? Do you—ever mindful of how many more assignments you have
left to read—adopt teacher shorthand? (“Sp, “Awk!”)
How do your students react when they read your comments—if they read them?
Do those comments help your students write better?
Research suggests that instructors’ written comments—at least the more typical
kinds of comments—do little to help students improve their writing. Since making
those observations can be time-consuming, it’s worth taking another look at
how to make your comments matter. Perhaps the most helpful way to think about
paper comments is to imagine sharing your own writing with a colleague. You’d
expect a respectful tone, an honest (but kind) sense of the worth of your effort,
and—most of all—some specific guidance on how to proceed. With that in mind,
here are some additional suggestions.
Time your words.
Commenting on final papers is largely futile; once you put a grade on a paper,
students have little interest in anything else you say. Reserve the bulk of
your comments for earlier drafts, when students can consider your advice in
their revisions.
Find your focus.
Ideally, when you give students an assignment, you have a specific pedagogical
goal in mind. Perhaps you want students to summarize both sides of an argument
or use research to defend their position. Keep that goal in mind as you read,
so you can focus your comments on bigger issues. That’s more efficient for
you and less overwhelming for students.
Ask questions.
By asking questions, you can encourage students to expand their assumptions,
or push the limits of their knowledge. When you ask questions rather than make
suggestions, you keep students engaged in the process and remind them that
it’s ultimately their work, not yours.
Be specific.
When you’re working through a batch of papers, it’s tempting to rely on stock
phrases: “Good introduction” or “Needs more analysis.” But such wholesale comments
are of little use to students when they revise. The more specific your questions
and comments, the more likely you are to see improved final drafts.
Be quiet.
Sometimes students don’t need an instructor to say anything about their writing,
particularly on brief assignments or explorations leading to a longer project.
Or take a few minutes of class time to give general impressions about what
you read. (“From your journals, I see that many of you are confusing two key
concepts.”)
Resist the urge to correct.
When most instructors see grammatical mistakes and spelling errors, they
feel compelled to correct them. Unfortunately, correcting errors for students
doesn’t teach them much. It also sends the message that you’re hunting down
errors rather than considering what students have to say. If a draft has an
overwhelming number of errors, you might mark up one paragraph or one page
and write a note offering to discuss the problems in person or suggesting the
student get help from he University Writing Center. You can also er models
for students to revise as a class or in a group. Another option: teach students
to correct the three or four errors that paricularly frustrate you as a reader,
and limit yourself to identifying only those. But isn’t it a teacher’s job
to point out errors? Not if pointng them out will do nothing to help students
eliminate them in the future.
Resist the urge to rewrite.
Just as it’s tempting to fix errors, it’s also tempting to rewrite a wordy
passage or awkward sentence. But making such editorial changes denies students
the chance to learn to revise for themselves. Furthermore, there are countless
ways to revise a sentence; by choosing one, you impose your preferences on
your students. Besides, if students are going to undertake a major revision,
they may cut or reword the problematic section anyway. If you’d like to teach
students how to revise for style and clarity, consider having the class work
together to rework a model—perhaps a less-than-stellar piece of “professional”
writing from your field.
Be a reader.
Writing is ultimately about communicating ideas and information to a reader,
a fact students often forget. Let them know you are, first and foremost, a
reader, trying to make sense of their words. The reader’s comment “I can’t
follow your meaning here” is less hostile than the teacher’s “Faulty syntax!”
and more likely to encourage students to revise.
Make it a conversation.
Before students turn in a draft, ask them to write their own comments about
it. Then you can address their concerns and answer their questions, which allows
you to be teacher and advisor, rather than judge and jury. It also encourages
them to take responsibility for their written efforts and reflect on what is
and isn’t working for them in their writing process.
|
|
Writing courses are intensive for faculty, too
What’s it like to teach a W? The University Writing Center recently sent
an informal survey to some W course instructors to get their impressions about
teaching a writing-intensive class. Some, perhaps
buried under the stacks of yet-to-be-graded student papers, never answered.
But a few found time to share their insights. What follows is a sample of their
responses. (To read more, click to www.writingcenter.tamu.edu/blog.)
What advice would you give to someone teaching a
W course for the first time?
"Be sure to develop self-discipline with grading papers: get them back as early
as possible, but try to spread out the grading so you don’t wear yourself out."
— Jim Aune, Communication
"Attend a UWC faculty workshop."
— Harvey Tucker, Political Science
"Many of the students have varying levels of trepidation about a W course, so
allay their fears. Make expectations clear and let them know you don’t expect
perfect grammar and organization on every assignment, that writing can have different
purposes."
— Courtney Schumacher, Atmospheric Sciences
"Use the UWC: they can help! Also, try to demonstrate
the relevancy of writing and/or writing assignments to students in their career
preparation. If students can see how learning to write can help them in their
careers, they tend to be more engaged in the assignment."
— Roel Lopez, Wildlife and Fisheries Sciences
Have you noticed changes in your students writing over
the course of the semester? If so, what kind of changes?
"My students write much better at the end of the course than at the beginning.
It even carries over into their problem working in that they write complete,
proper sentences
at the end instead of fragments. So grading their problems and proofs is easier
at the end. Also, they read more critically, so they get more out of the textbook.
I think they are amazed at the power of language, both written and oral, and
become more precise in its usage."
— Sue Geller, Mathematics
"They get better. Not in all cases, but in enough to make it worthwhile. They
are better organized, more conscious
of writing in complete sentences, and more adept at transitions from idea to
idea. They usually learn (re-learn?) about paragraphs, a concept many have forgotten
and do not use in the beginning of the semester."
— Sarah Bednarz, Geography
Has more writing for the students meant more work
for you? If so, how have you handled the increased
demands on your time?
"Although the additional writing has its rewards
. . . it has clearly meant more work for me in terms of assessment/grading.
This semester our department
has hired two graduate teaching assistants to assist
the [department’s] W instructors with the increased workload, and I believe this
will be a tremendous help to all of us. In the past, I guess I just slept less."
— Pat Wiese, Teaching, Learning and Culture
"Converting my course into a W course did not mean more work. The course already
was writing intensive due to the nature of the course material. Working
with the UWC, I was able to develop grading rubrics and developed an on-line
paper submission Web site that increased my efficiency in grading assignments
in the course."
— Roel Lopez, Wildlife and Fisheries Sciences
"For too long, I graded papers on a schedule that seemed to be endless. I have
learned to come up with assignments that are low-stakes enough that the students
have to write a lot but I can just check quickly, more to see if they made an
earnest attempt to learn the material than to nail them for grammar and style
errors."
— Darla-Jean Weatherford, Petroleum Engineering
"Of course it means more work for me, but it is work I genuinely enjoy. I
like reading the ways students express their ideas—it is a window into their
lives and thought processes. Sometimes what I see is pretty appalling. There
is no sense of logic or how to lay out an argument, or understanding
of what it means to evaluate or synthesize. Understanding this has helped me
to become better in my teaching of the thinking/research/writing process. I don’t
know how I handle the increased demands on my time other than to think of it
as contributing to my personal pedagogical development—the scholarship of teaching—
and to realize it is all part of my job as a professor."
— Sarah Bednarz, Geography
How are you responding to your students’ writing?
Do you use a rubric, hold conferences, or facilitate
peer review?
"I provide detailed instructions for writing assignments
and also a list of frequently seen problems and intolerable writing mistakes.
I give detailed comments on each submission. Students who write multiple short
papers
improve their skills and grades quickly."
— Harvey Tucker, Political Science
"I use several tactics in providing feedback to students
including grading rubrics, peer review, weekly class discussions, and use of
Microsoft’s ‘track changes.’"
— Roel Lopez, Wildlife and Fisheries Sciences
"I go through seven stages: a) shock and disbelief, b) denial, c) bargaining,
d) guilt, e) anger, f ) depression, g) acceptance and hope. Acceptance and hope
usually come long after the semester is over, so I am generally in an earlier
stage when the grades need to be given."
— Sam Cohn, Sociology
Has anything about teaching a W course surprised you?
"How much the students’ writing typically improves
after the first assignment. I suspect many A&M students can actually write
pretty well, but often they are just not challenged to write well. When they
find out that good writing does matter in their grade, they respond and ‘kick
it up a notch.’"
— Andrew Klein, Geography
"Our students are very, very poor writers. Students resent the extra work;
hence student evaluations
have dropped a little. The lack of meaningful support
from the administration for instructors making the extra effort is discouraging.
Just a quarter-time graduate assistantship to help with the grading for each
W course would be reasonable. Instead, I use contracts and grants to
subsidize my W course."
— T. H. Friend, Animal Science
"I was surprised at how much fun the students have with the term paper. Who’d
have thought that a term paper
in math would be fun?"
— Sue Geller, Mathematics
How has writing in the course affected student
learning?
"Students are much more engaged and interested in the course. They easily see
the relevancy of the writing assignments in their future careers. Working with
real landowners really makes this connection."
— Roel Lopez, Wildlife and Fisheries Sciences
"Since they read more critically, they learn more from the textbook. Since they
are aware of the need for precision in their language, they produce better work."
— Sue Geller, Mathematics
What’s the best thing about teaching a W course?
"The knowledge that you are testing people on real intellectual skills and
their ability to deal with ideas—rather than rote gurgitation on a spitback
exam. The opportunity to have extended written dialogue with students on sociological
themes, rather than check whether
they have read pages 80-220."
— Sam Cohn, Sociology
"Feeling like you’re dealing with students as individuals (something that, alas,
doesn’t happen often in such a large university with such large classes)."
— Jim Aune, Communication
"By far the best thing about teaching a W course is getting to better learn
about students. I especially
enjoyed reading student book reviews as it provides insight into their philosophies
and interests. This is something
I don’t normally experience in my other classes."
— Andrew Klein, Geography
What’s the worst thing about teaching a W course?
"Dealing with my own shortcomings in writing
and in English. Like many in my area, I was drawn to engineering because I enjoyed
science and math and didn’t care so much for English class. If I’d have known
then that I’d need a better handle on this, I’d have paid more attention."
— Ronald Lacey, Agricultural Engineering
"Tell my wife I love her. I will be home after I finish this stack."
— Sam Cohn, Sociology
|
|
UWC Executive Director Valerie Balester is beginning the process of assessing the effectiveness of the Wcourse program, an undertaking made more difficult by the organic nature of how students learn to write.
As we move into the second phase of implementing writing-intensive courses
at Texas A&M, we naturally want to know how well we are doing. Fortunately,
research data about writing instruction can help us design an assessment. We
know, for instance, that requiring more writing will not alone improve writing
ability. Writers need guidance, and, as David E. Harris and Robert Schaible
point out in their review of research, writers must be evaluated not only on
content, but also on organization, style, grammar, spelling, and presentation.
W courses have been designed with such research in mind. Now we need to evaluate
if our efforts are paying off at Texas A&M. Are our students better writers
as a result of taking W courses?
It seems a simple enough question with a simple enough means of assessment:
test student writing at the beginning of a W course, re-test at the end, and
measure improvement. Unfortunately, many factors complicate the process.
Let’s start with the obvious: the inherent difficulties of measuring writing
ability. With careful definition of a writing task and training of raters,
a reliable measure of a particular document can be achieved. However, even
if students can write one type of document well in one instance, they may not
be equally competent writing other types of documents. Measuring a single performance
on a single assignment provides only a partial view of writing ability. One
way to address this limitation is to examine portfolios of student work, written
and revised over time.
Another, perhaps less obvious, complication of assessing writing is that writing
skill develops over time and at different rates. Some students show only minimal
improvement over the course of a semester, with more substantial results becoming
apparent only later, assuming that the students continue to write. Further,
other variables can affect performance, from time-on-task and prior knowledge
of a subject to how seriously students view the writing requirement.
Our expectations, therefore, must be realistic, and our measurements should
not be limited to a single semester or too narrowly focused on individuals.
By the same token, we should not seek results that define better writing merely
by better written products. We could achieve better written products easily
enough by editing our students’ work for them. But that wouldn’t make them
better writ- ers. To help our students achieve that, we must:
- 1. Increase their repertoire of rhetorical strategies, for example, by enhancing
their ability to analyze and address various audiences and understand specific
genres.
- 2. Influence their writing habits and processes, for example, by encouraging
them to plan, revise, edit, and proofread, and to seek out and value feedback.
- 3. Improve their attitudes about writing, for example, by decreasing writing
anxiety and raising awareness about the importance of writing to their future.
To measure changes in strategies, habits, and attitudes, our assessment should
also include indirect measures of writing ability, such as reflective writing
or surveys of students and of faculty who observe them.
Over the course of the next year, I will devise an assessment strategy for
the W course program. It will be a realistic plan that will include student
writing and surveys of students and faculty, as well as data from sources such
as the National Survey of Student Engagement conducted on this campus. What
we learn will help us decide how to invest wisely in a program we cannot afford
to do without. In the end, I know we’ll discover new questions we’ll want to
ask. After all, assessment, if it is to be of use, must be ongoing.
|
|
| | |
Tidbits
|
Each time I sit down to write I don't know if I can do it. The flow of writing is always a surprise and a challenge. --Donald Murray |
|