It’s commonplace to grump about student teaching evaluations. So I’ll join the chorus. Some of my colleagues make the argument–and I do try to keep an open mind–that we can learn something valuable even from the dumbest of comments. But just as there are stupid questions, there are insipid approaches to evaluating teaching. I cannot agree with those who argue that the end-of-semester evaluation can be an effective means of improving instruction. If we were being honest, we would call it what it is: a moderately effective way for students to talk back, to say a few of the things that have been on their mind throughout the semester.
Then again, this implies that something has been on their mind other than IM and beer bongs. (Or, at my university, cocaine parties.) My cohort of students almost never answers the qualitative questions, at least not thoughtfully. (“How can the instruction be improved? How can the course be improved? What did you like most? What least?”) These questions are most often answered with the same monosyllabic gutterals that seep out when students are asked to respond to questions in class, when I ask them to give us something to chew on. “Nothing.” “Course was ok.” “Too much reading.” “Instructor graded too hard.” “Prof. explained things clearly.” “Prof. didn’t explain things clearly.” “Didn’t know what he wanted on papers.” “Pretty cool.” “Boring.”
One of the only comments that has ever done me any good came after my first semester of teaching: “Teacher looks like a chipmunk.” I therefore resolved: I will do my best not to look like a chipmunk in the future. I will read books on how to diminish those aspects of my physiognomy that are too akin to the small mammal population. How can a student learn, after all, with Alvin in the front of the classroom? I felt ashamed and dirty.
My strategy must have paid off, for since then my evaluations have lacked the passion, the thought, the integrity that went into that first blast. I can now safely say that I no longer look the chipmunk. I can only hope that my students, when they look at me, see me for what I truly am: a snake.
The student teaching evaluation offends. It reeks of something putrescing. It lacks common sense. If the powers-that-be really want to know what’s going on in the classroom, they should open the door and come in. Take notes, if they want. Come back a second and third time. I have nothing to hide, except my tail.
Yes it’s true – and that way the best teachers would get the recognition they deserved…from their managers.
Our new professor had all her stundents walk out in one of her classes a month ago – as a protest at her poor teaching.
That’s a clear indication too I guess.
Here’s what some faculty at University of Missouri – Columbia and doing….
Five students are given PDAs that have the eCOVE Software installed. eCOVE Classroom Observation Software (I wrote it) is a collection of tools to gather objective data on classroom behaviors of the teacher and/or students. Each of the students use the PDA to gather a different piece of data during the class. Among the tools are Class Learning Time, Positive/Negative Statements, OnTopic/OffTopic, Attention to Gender, Levels of Questions, Student Question Type, and many more.
The last 10 minutes of the class the data gatherers share the data with the instructor and the class, and they spend a few minutes interpreting the data, deciding if a change is indicated, and developing a plan of action. At a later date (a week or two later) the same tools are used again to see if any actual change occurred.
The process is intended to make the process of teaching and of improving teaching transparent and a collaborative venture by both teachers and students.
I’m honestly interested in whether this would appeal to you and other blog readers. You can download the software through the link above. You are also invited to my blog (comments very welcome) Data-Based Classroom Observation
Peace, John