The last faculty meeting of
the term had gone along swimmingly. We were reminded to turn in copies of our
grades (just in case there is any dispute about them) and to provide whatever data
we’ve contrived for the course assessments that will help the local technocrats
sleep well at night. We had even gotten through the fairly complicated changes
to curriculum in two different programs and approved the hard work of the heads
of those programs and their faculty.
Amazingly, the elephant in
the room snoozed quietly in the corner, all this time. The means by which it
came to life is a story in itself.
Three for the Price of One
Near the end of the meeting,
a group of instructors who had participated in a Writing Across the Curriculum
program over the past year gave their report. The program proposed a number of
ideas to help insure that students emerging from our classes could write at an
improved level from when they entered. For an increasing number of students who
arrive at college with writing deficits, this could simply mean that their
writing would begin to approach college level in quality.
Then came The $64,000 Question: Did your program even consider the problem
of trying to teach writing skills to classes that are too large to provide any
kind of meaningful feedback to the students?
Oops.
Suddenly the elephant roared
to life, running rampant through the assembled faculty too exhausted from a
long and trying term to avoid it.
The room buzzed with heated observations
that overcrowded classes by definition eliminate the possibility of grading and
providing meaningful feedback on any significant amount of work an instructor might
assign each term. In real terms that means less writing assigned by the faculty
and thus less opportunity for students to improve research and writing skills,
critical reasoning, and various means of presenting their ideas.
I came to UCF in 2002. The
intensive writing Gordon Rule courses I had just been teaching at Valencia
Community College were then capped at 20 students per section to permit faculty
to focus on student writing. UCF’s version of the exact same classes at that
time packed 37 students into their classrooms. Within six years, that number
had ballooned to 75 students in a single section.
That’s nearly four times the
size of exactly the same class at the community college. And when you multiply
that by the four classes full-time non-tenured instructors are required to teach,
that meant an instructor was teaching up to 300 total students in a given
semester.
From an economic
perspective, that’s patently exploitative of faculty, particularly adjuncts
getting paid $2000/course, well below average (US average for adjuncts is only $2700)
with no benefits. It effectively means that instructors are providing three
plus classes for the price of one. But, more importantly, from the student’s
perspective, the instructor’s inability to demand that they write regularly,
receive critical feedback on those writing efforts and thus be provided an
opportunity to improve their writing is a serious pedagogical failing and the
denial of an educational opportunity.
Of course, this is hardly a
problem relegated to this university. Arum and Roska’s study of the academic
experience of undergraduates in America published in Academically Adrift (2011) found
that most students in America’s colleges and universities are being required to
read or write very little in their classes. Their study found that “as much as 32
percent of students each semester do not take any courses with more than 40
pages of reading assigned a week, and that half don't take a single course in
which they must write more than 20 pages over the course of a semester.” (Scott
Jasich, “Academically Adrift,” Inside Higher
Education. )
An Obsession with Size
And yet the problem of
overcrowded classes is more a symptom than a cause of these failings. A part of
the problem at our university came into focus early this month in the wake of
the latest audit of the university by outsider consultants. The John N. Gardner
Institute for Excellence in Undergraduate Education of Brevard, NC, released
its review of undergraduate education at UCF, a study actually commissioned by
the university. Among the findings:
·
The review found great uncertainty and lack of clarity
about the mission, purposes and organizational structure for undergraduate studies
·
These findings are in contradiction to the high level of
importance given to undergraduate education in the university’s stated mission
·
The review also found disproportionate attention on
graduate education, given the gross number of undergraduate students versus
graduate students (about 51,000 vs. 9,000)
The auditors noted that even
as the university had neglected its undergraduate programs, it celebrated the
swollen ranks of its undergraduate population as a source of pride:
The University of Central Florida (UCF) in Orlando is the
second largest non-profit higher education institution in the United States.
That fact is constantly emphasized and pointed to with pride by all types of
administrators, staff, faculty, and students. In fact, it appears to be a truly
dominant determinant of internal status. We have never visited another research
university where such emphasis is placed on size.
So, while the university
does not want to fund or adequately support the cast of thousands it has
admitted into its undergraduate student body or those of us who endeavor to help
them become educated, it still sees their mere presence as a source of bragging
rights. A number of our undergraduate
males wear tee-shirts around campus smugly proclaiming “Size Matters.” (One
wonders why one would need to advertise in such cases) But, apparently the
university’s management agrees. It’s a rather mindless obsession with quantity and
a major blindness to quality.
Herding the Cash Cows
Undeterred by its own
audit’s findings, the university continues to focus on graduate programs. As the
heated conversation at the departmental meeting about class sizes subsided, the
chair then revealed that the deans of the university’s 13 colleges had pronounced
at their last meeting that their colleges would actually be increasing their focus on graduate
programs. There are a number of reasons for that.
First of all graduate programs
offer the promise of research grants, an important source of income to a state
university slowing being drained of its lifeblood by a vampiric state legislature
increasingly beholden to the same wealthy interests which dominate most
governments in our nation today. Our own university long ago sold its soul to
the defense industry whose research dominates campus research and whose
corporate and governmental outlets populate the office park which girdles the
campus to its south.
Graduate courses also
provide cheap instructional personnel in the form of teaching assistants who
make factory process mega-classes (some well over 1000 in the business school) possible.
Many more take the reins of teaching of undergraduates entirely, competing with
adjuncts for these instructional slots.
Of course, the Philosophy
Department has never had any graduate students to fall back on since it has consistently
been denied any kind of graduate program by the university. It is the only
department in the College of Arts and Humanities without a graduate division.
Not surprisingly, the focus
of our meeting suddenly shifted to the possibilities that perhaps this might be
the opportune moment to once again apply for a graduate program. “Who better to
direct an interdisciplinary graduate program?” a faculty member quipped.
At this point, two former
chairs reminded the department of the devil’s bargain required for any new
graduate program: Graduate programs will
be added only if no new faculty lines or resources are requested.
So let’s see.
·
We already have more undergrads
than we can handle and thus cannot assign the kind of intensive writing students
need to develop their writing skills.
·
According to its own
audit, the university does not sufficiently support its undergraduate programs.
·
But more graduate
programs are the priorities of the deans of the colleges.
·
And the only way such
programs can be created is if the department agrees to take on those additional
tasks with existing staff and resources.
More job duties but no more
staff to help carry them out. And no more money even as the services provided must
expand.
That’s a good deal for
somebody. But it sure ain’t us.
No Bad Guys Here
So let's leave it alone 'cause we
can't see eye to eye.
There ain't no good guy, there ain't
no bad guy,
There's only you and me and we just
disagree.
As the smoke from these explosions
began to clear, I looked around the room, suddenly seeing my colleagues in a
whole new light. It was the end of a long hard term. We were all tired. We had
just sat through two hours of an end-of-term departmental meeting that had predictably
dissolved into the latest round of the ongoing vicious Catch-22 that is life in
a public university today. The frustration was palpable.
There was an air of futility
among these bright, well-educated people, most of whom had worked like hell
just to get through a very trying academic year. Now at the end of that year,
here we sat with the drunken elephant of the corporate university once again thrashing
about the room.
The reality is that those of
us who labor at these corporate universities will never be able to do enough to
meet the demands of a bloated corporate management oblivious to both the
students and faculty they allegedly serve. With their self-appointed privilege
to engage in unlimited job description creep, we will never be able to do
enough work for the same salary or less (our instructor’s beginning salaries
have actually dropped over the past three years) to satisfy this insatiable,
exploitative machine.
It is also unlikely that the
human dignity owed the dedicated men and women who operate this process will ever
be recognized. And it appears highly unlikely that the quality of the education
we seek to provide the undergraduates we teach will become a serious concern
for those who make the real decisions about how the university operates. It’s a
lot easier to maintain a flow of underpaid visiting instructors through the
cattle chutes and treat students as consumers, trying to insure their passage
through this Unlimited Credentials Factory in as painless a manner as possible.
As I looked across the room
at those faces, I realized how much I value and respect these people with whom I
have worked these past 13 years and how much I will miss them when I finally
give up the ghost and get the hell out of there. And it dawned on me that,
while it is easy to single out any player to blame in this danse macabre that plays out on a regular basis here at the
Factory, there really are no bad guys in this drama. There are simply a lot of
decent human beings trying to survive in a dysfunctional system that many readily
recognize as toxic.
One of the marks of any
pathological organization is that it tends to pit its victims against one
another. But the reality is that none of these folks alone are to blame for the
problems we face. As a colleague observed after the meeting, “The system is too
big and most of us can’t even see the problems clearly, much less try to solve
them.”
I believe my colleague is
right. And that then leaves those of us who actually still care with this
dilemma:
Knowing
that current conditions are unfavorable for quality education to be provided, that
this is unacceptable for those of us who consider providing quality education to
those who seek it to be our calling and that this is highly unlikely to change
anytime soon, at what point do the costs of staying outweigh any diminishing
returns?
Sadly, I know that the point
at which I must personally answer that question is drawing very near.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The Rev. Harry Scott
Coverston, J.D., M.Div., Ph.D.
Member, Florida Bar (inactive status)
Priest, Episcopal Church (Dio. of El Camino Real, CA)
Asst. Lecturer: Humanities, Religion, Philosophy of Law
Osceola Regional Campus, University of Central Florida, Kissimmee
If the unexamined
life is not worth living, surely an unexamined belief system, be it religious
or political, is not worth holding.
Most things of value
do not lend themselves to production in sound bytes.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
2 comments:
Harry, It sounds like return on investment (ROI) has more credence with the administration than the education of the students.
This is certainly the way a corporate manager would construct the situation, no doubt. Problem is, public universities are not corporations. And education of the students is the stated purpose of the university. At a basic level, this suggests at least a misfeasance on the part of university leadership if not malfeasance.
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