Autonomy, Coherence, and Rigor in the Academy, part 1

What is the place of the Humanities in the real world? This question haunts me as I reflect on an altogether mundane conversation I had recently with a colleague at my other (non-CUNY) job, where I teach writing. Here’s a synopsis of the exchange:

A (that’s me): “Hi! What are you teaching this semester?”
C (colleague): “Nothing. I finally have some time to work on my own stuff. What are you teaching?”
A: “A business writing course.”
C: “Oh, that’s really great! You don’t have to deal with . . . you know, the ideology.”

The ideology my colleague was referring to is the theoretical framework behind the program’s basic composition and expository writing courses. Instructors teaching these classes have to adopt a fairly prescriptive approach, both in terms of assignment sequencing and instructional methodology. Such requirements are understandable and perhaps inevitable, given the large number of instructors, most of whom are adjuncts. There has to be pedagogical coherence if thousands of students are to be held to the same rigorous standards.

The business writing course, on the other hand, allows instructors a greater degree of autonomy. There certainly is coherence and rigor in the curriculum, yet there is also a refreshing freedom. I suspect that there is more to this than the fact that a smaller pool of instructors (in business writing) requires less directorial oversight. The requirements and standards of the business writing course result from, and represent, goals that are more non-academic in nature. The ideology behind the more traditional writing courses (basic composition and expository writing) is connected to their “background” in the Humanities, while the “idea” behind the business writing course is to prepare students for success in the “real world.”

Yet the Humanities, it seems, cannot serve purely academic interests. In an environment of assessment and academic accountability, the Humanities, struggling to survive in a largely business-driven world, have little room for failure. They must produce results at once satisfactory to the academy and, in some way, relevant to the “outside” world. Administrators of courses like basic composition and expository writing thus have all the greater need for top-down quality control. The relative autonomy of the business writing instructor, in this view, corresponds to the entrepreneurial freedom of the real-life business person, who may create (to an extent, of course) his own means to a purely practical end.

The issues raised by all of this are particularly interesting to me in my work at Baruch, a business school with traditional Humanities requirements. In the upcoming installments I’ll explore how the different institutions I’m associated with are reinventing the traditional liberal arts education, specifically with regard to writing and communication.

NYT article on blogs of college leaders

We’ve been discussing here on our own blog how students and professors make use of blogs, but now even college presidents are getting into the game:

Erasing Divide, College Leaders Take to Blogging by Diana Jean Schemo

Teaching Faculty Members to Fish?

With the generous support of Baruch’s Provost’s Office, the Schwartz Institute’s Great Works Communication Fellows will pilot a faculty development seminar during the Spring 2006 semester. The idea is to work with Baruch faculty members who teach CICs, helping them expand and improve their communication-intensive teaching techniques. Over the course of the seminar, we plan to facilitate discussion, lead activities, and even assign homework on a variety of issues such as assignment, exam, oral presentation, and syllabus design; grading and responding to writing; Blackboard participation; group vs. individual assignments; in-class writing/communicating-to-learn techniques; and so on. (The irony has not escaped me that we are, in effect, hosting a seminar that revolves around the concept of communication-intensive courses in a communication-intensive fashion; at least we’re practicing what we preach!)

To get things rolling, at the end of last semester, we distributed applications to Great Works and LTT (Literature in Translation) faculty for a semester-long, three-meeting seminar, with a modest stipend. We are delighted to announce that we now have 12 faculty members enrolled.

So here’s what I’m wondering. The impetus for this seminar reflects an ongoing question among those of us involved in the development and honing of CICs: where’s the most efficient place for us to focus our limited time and resources – on students, faculty, both? For the past few years, Great Works fellows have concentrated on two methods: running in-class workshops, in which faculty request that we lead their class in a particular exercise, such as how to generate ideas for a paper or how to formulate a thesis; and leading out-of-class workshops, in which students enroll for similar workshops on their own. More recently, though, we’ve started to consider whether we might get better bang for our buck by targeting our efforts directly at faculty as well. Our thinking is that the positive pedagogical changes we’re working for will have to come, in the long term, mostly from the classroom itself, no matter how successful our “support” services are with students. So what do you think? By primarily working with students, are we just running in place instead of improving things more systemically? Should we balance our work with students with an equal emphasis on working with faculty? Would this be doomed in practice by the sensitivities and politics of upward-instruction (i.e. fellows “teaching” faculty about how to teach communication-intensive activities better)? My instinct whispers that each reinforces the other, but I would enjoy hearing comments from others, since most of us have some teaching experience, or have even led similar faculty development seminars.

CAC and Liberal Arts — Strange Bedfellows?

I teach THE 1041C (Intro to Theatre) at Baruch, which fosters oral as well as written communication, and I love doing it. I think theatre, as a discipline, is particularly well suited to meeting CAC objectives. But I’d like to play the devil’s advocate for a moment and discuss the tension between skills-development and content in CIC courses.

I recently read Carol Geary Schneider and Debra Humphreys’s article “Putting Liberal Education on the Radar Screen”in the Chronicle of Higher Ed (23 Sept 05). The authors describe a ten-year project by the Association of American Colleges and Universities (AACU) called “Liberal Education and America’s Promise: Excellence for Everyone as a Nation Goes to College.” The initiative aims to increase awareness of the importance of liberal arts education to a generation of students (and their parents) who tend to believe a college degree is “just a ticket to be punched on the way to their first job.”

I imagine most college teachers will not be surprised by the findings of the AACU study, which suggest that students today consider “values and ethics, an appreciation of cultural diversity, global awareness, and civic responsibility” to be the least important outcomes of a college education. Indeed, most view college as “a private rather than a public good,” a way to develop professional skills. The data also suggest that “colleges are not conveying the importance of liberal education to their students,” and Schneider and Humphreys argue that this is part of the problem.

As someone who is personally, politically, and professionally invested in the objectives associated with liberal arts education, I found this article disturbing. It also makes me wonder whether or not CAC feeds the fires of the consumerist mentality described in the AACU study. I am a bit embarrassed to admit that I sometimes find myself “selling” CIC objectives to my students, since most of them are non-majors with little interest in the subject: “Two courses in one! More bang for your buck! Learn not only how to talk intelligently about ‘Hamlet’ at cocktail parties, but be scintillating while you do it!” I genuinely believe that communication is intimately connected to critical thinking, cultural awareness, and ethical conduct. But typically, CAC is about skills development, not these other things. Schneider and Humphreys insist that educators and administrators not only need to talk about the value of liberal arts among themselves, but also find ways to articulate their value to students. But will CAC programs, as they expand and proliferate, legitimize students’ tendency to view college as little more than a springboard to a high-paying job? How can CAC teachers and administrators strike a balance between the often-competing objectives of higher education: to shape the next generation of leaders and thinkers professionally, ethically, culturally, intellectually?

If you had a million dollars . . .

Well, maybe not a million but a lot.

Let’s play a game: Imagine that a big corporation wants to give your school, program, or department a lot of money over three years for an innovative initiative aimed at improving your undergraduates’ ability to communicate orally and/or in writing. How would you spend it?

Now for the rules: 1) The initiative you propose can be hinged on a single big program or a bunch of little ones and can involve curricular support and development as well as co-curricular programs; 2) The outcomes have to be measurable. Assessment of program outcomes, however, may be built into your proposal so that some of the money would go towards assessing how well it’s working. That brings us to . . . 3) Be sure to mention how you plan to assess your program; and 4) Be sure to identify the population of students your program is intended to target.

So that’s it. Put your thinking caps on, people. To add a comment from the cac.ophony.org homepage, click on the post title or the number next to it.