I've had two very different conversations in the past few weeks with two different colleagues, both of which relate to working with students. One of these conversations was very sympathetic to students, in a "how can we help them succeed and thrive?" sort of way. The other was...a bit less sympathetic...the sort of commiserating conversation with more of a "how do we hold students accountable to actually do the work?' sort of feeling.
I feel both of these things sometimes, as an instructor.
But I'm coming down right now on the side of sympathizing with students. Perhaps it's because I'm taking a computer programming course on audit right now, and feeling some of the same pressures. I am an achiever, and I want to do well, and represent myself well, and really learn the things I need to be successful! Though, to be clear, auditing a course is different--as much as I want to say I sympathize with my fellow learners, I'm in a bit of a different category. I'm taking this course just for the learning, with no grade attached, and no high stakes (e.g., scholarships) riding on a grade. Also, the professor teaching the course is a friend, and is very supportive and encouraging of me taking the course. And while she is equally supportive of the other learners in the class, there is a different kind of power dynamic, I think, since I am a peer, and the students in the class really are not.
But while all of this is true, I do feel a sense of the pressures the students taking the course do. There are times when I have to re-read the text multiple times to really understand it. There are times when I am really not sure how to start coding a program that I've been assigned, and I start to trial-and-error it. (Which never seems to work out well.) My wife could tell you how she knows when I'm struggling, because I mutter under my breath and sigh a lot. The work is challenging, and it's stretching me. And I feel a very real sense of accomplishment when I solve a programming problem that has been a bugaboo for me.
But one experience in particular had me sympathizing with students. We use an online platform as part of our homework for the course. I really like this! We get immediate feedback on the snippets of code we write, and we can redo things as many times as needed to get things right. I find that this is helping me check my understanding in a step-by-step kind of way, and deepening my understanding through repeated practice when I get things wrong. Sometimes I get things right the first go. More often, it takes me two or three attempts, but I figure this is actually a good thing, because it causes me to slow down and rethink my approach, and check my understanding of the syntax of the language I'm learning.
But there are limitations to this platform, and sometimes this has me running into dead ends, because my code isn't exactly right according to the specifications of the platform. I had this experience last week with a programming problem. I wrote a piece of code that I thought would solve the problem...but no joy. So I took the error messages, and used them to try and pinpoint where things went awry. No joy. I revised, and revised, and eventually started over from scratch. No joy, no joy, no joy. I tried over 30 different submissions on this project! (I was definitely muttering under my breath about it.) I'm stubborn enough to keep working away at it, because I really want to learn this stuff for myself! But there came a point where I felt like I was banging my head against the wall.
And so...in my frustration and defeat...I turned to Google.
I found a solution, of course. And my code was about 95% correct, but I had missed a crucial step. It felt so obvious when I saw it. I fixed my code, and submitted the project. All done.
But I also felt some guilt about needing to look up help online to solve the problem.
In this course, which I'm taking just for fun and for my own learning, I have the luxury of not caring about a grade. Did I have to find a solution for this problem? No. But I wanted to--perhaps out of wanting to represent myself well, to actually complete the assignment, do it correctly, and get 100% on this assignment. Was it cheating? In this case, no, because my professor-colleague encourages us to use our resources to help us learn, including looking things up online. But there was still some guilt there for me.
And this is where I'm feeling sympathetic with my students. They often have higher stakes attached to grades, after all. So perhaps it's no wonder that they seek out help when they run into roadblocks. And perhaps that "seeking out help" isn't always on the up-and-up. But in a moment of frustration, or uncertainty, or need to just-get-it-done-and-move-on-to-the-next-thing-because-there-is-always-more-homework, they might seek out illicit homework help.
So all of this has me thinking about what our philosophy ought to be for encouraging students to actually, deeply learn the material? Yes, I want my students to be accountable for doing the work. And, yes, I want to encourage and support my students so they will be able to be successful in learning. Both of these are true at the same time. Are they in opposition to each other?
All of this to say, placing myself in the students' seat has been a good exercise in understanding at least some of the pressures they are experiencing.
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| Image by Chris Ried via Unsplash |
