Hallway conversations about teaching and learning

Month: January 2023

Positionality, Perceptions, and Power Dynamics in Educational Spaces

Contemplating questions worth asking over a mug of mocha.

There have been so many thoughts swimming around in my head in preparation for writing my first blog post here. I’ve been wrestling with positionality for a couple of years as a white, female body in a profession dominated by others who look like me. While the link above refers to the term positionality as “how differences in social position and power shape identities and access in society,” another very real aspect of positionality is how I am perceived by others because of my identities, and in light of others’ positionalities. 

In addition to thinking about my presence and the effect it has on others in my classroom, I also think about my practices, how they are formed, and who benefits or is harmed by them. 

One of my passions within the field of education is teaching (and presenting to other teachers) around critical thinking. I find myself changing as a human through the questions I wrestle with, and so my blog submission here is centered on questions we should be asking ourselves, and my meandering thoughts about each of them. For me, asking questions leads to asking more questions–until eventually I get to the questions that really need to be asked. I hope you’ll join in and add some questions of your own.

Presence in the Room 

How often do we consider the power dynamics at play in our daily interactions? Even as we grow collective consciousness around positionality, power dynamics don’t yet get enough attention in many educational spaces. Partially, this is a product of our system–a Frierian concept of learning, where teachers and other adults subscribe to the hierarchical system of being the authority in the room. The other part is the pace: juggling academics, meetings, parent phone calls, dealing with social and emotional issues with students, sick kids, etc. etc. It wouldn’t be too much of a hyperbole to say that I move a hundred miles a minute some days. And yet, that autopilot allows us to ignore the perpetuation of “power over” within our spaces. 

As I think about days I’ve felt most successful at my job, I’m aware that those are the days that are most dialogic with my students, the times I’ve paused the “hectic” and made adequate space for critical, student-led conversations–for all of us to be human together. Autopilot is responsible for so much of our bias creeping out from the recesses of our brains and into our practices–and ultimately, part of our bias reflects our upbringing and experiences we had as students in the classroom, including management, and teacher/student roles and relationships. I wonder what this looks like in other areas of education and in other professions entirely? How are others aware of power dynamics? How do you counter hierarchical power imbalances within your spaces?

What do students perceive  / What do I want my students to see? 

A few years ago, my principal asked us to give descriptors of our best teachers–what made them people we still remember today? We were also asked to describe what qualities stood out in those who were our least favorite. Teachers who were caring toward students, took time to listen, pushed students to do their best, were a consistent positive presence, and showed compassion to their students stood out as memorable. Those who just taught their content, didn’t seem to care, were sarcastic, had “favorites” or didn’t really know the students personally stood out in the opposite way–it was clear that teaching was just a job for them. First of all, I love this activity as a way to reflect on how I show up every day. Am I memorable? Have I created an environment within my classroom that I would want others to remember in positive ways? Would I as a student have remembered me as an educator? I think about what my students perceive about me, as a teacher as well as a white, middle-aged female. How do they experience my presence in the room, and what are their perceptions about how I create learning spaces for them. While I do get feedback from students and families pretty regularly, I reflect on how students’ perceptions likely vary according to their identities within my space. 

Last fall I listened to a newer podcast on leadership called Disrupting Our Practice, specifically an episode that focused on positionality. It completely changed my perspective on how I’m perceived in professional spaces (I highly recommend a listen). I wonder if others wrestle with how they are perceived in their professional spaces. Does stopping to reflect on perceptions and positionality cause us to reconsider practices or change how we operate? 

These discussions are happening in every field right now, and I’m curious to see specifically how it might shift educational practices in the next decade. What shifts have you noticed in your settings, and what do see as outcomes of disrupting the educational status quo?

Let’s not throw the baby out with the bathwater

Whew, a lot of pressure on the first “real” blog post. And there are so many things I could talk about! 

  • For now, John Warner’s take is about where I’m at regarding ChatGPT. I don’t teach a course that’s likely to be very affected by AI until next spring — at which point, no doubt, the technology will be very different from today. Maybe I’ll have to work out my thoughts more carefully before then.
  • I don’t know if this is such big news everywhere, or just here in Minnesota; anyway, no one needs my hot take on what happened at Hamline. I’ll defer to nuanced takes from Muslim organizations and commenters (unpaywalled link).
  • This article in The Verge is a good review of the whole Twitter fiasco of the last few months.

I had a strong reaction as I read “The Terrible Tedium of ‘Learning Outcomes’” (unpaywalled link). All I could muster at the time was a cliché . Maybe here I can develop my reaction more.

This article is the first time I’ve encountered Gayle Greene. She is apparently an accomplished scholar and professor emerita. It’s important to point out that her essay in the Chronicle is adapted from her current book, Immeasurable Outcomes, which I haven’t read. I’m sure the book has room for much more nuance and qualification than the essay. It looks like the book is a strong defense of liberal education ideals — I bet there is a lot in there I would agree with.

I find it striking that there is positive blurb there from Lynn Pasquerella of the AAC&U. They articulated the essential learning outcomes of a liberal education and promote a method of assessing student learning of those outcomes. Yet Greene’s essay is a protest against ideas like those.

Maybe her essay is a deliberate provocation. Consider me provoked (cautiously).

The air is abuzz with words like models and measures, performance metrics, rubrics, assessment standards, accountability, algorithms, benchmarks, and best practices. Hyphenated words have a special pizzazz — value-added, capacity-building, performance-based, high-performance — especially when one of the words is datadata-driven, data-based, benchmarked-data. The air is thick with this polysyllabic pestilence, a high-wire hum like a plague of locusts. Lots of shiny new boilerplate is mandated for syllabi, spelling out the specifics of style and content, and the penalties for infringements, down to the last detail.

Gayle Greene, “The Terrible Tedium of ‘Learning outcomes'”

I get it. There are some of these corporate-ish words that set my teeth on edge, too. “Scale” is one of my pet peeves. It always feels like a way to dismiss anything that’s good as not good enough; “Yes, that’s great, but how does it scale?”

Greene’s thesis is that the learning that takes place is college is ineffable, unmeasurable, “matters of the spirit, not the spreadsheet.” Her characterization of the current machinery of learning outcomes and their assessment as “pernicious nonsense” captures a feeling that I know many in higher education share. When these processes are approached from a perspective of box-checking, of compliance, then I agree, it is not a good use of anyone’s precious time. But what if the ways that these processes work are the bathwater, and the purpose these processes ought to serve is the baby?

In passing, Greene links to this comment: “… while we are agonizing about whether we need to change how we present the unit on cyclohexane because 45 percent of the students did not meet the learning outcome, budgets are being cut, students are working full-time jobs, and debt loads are growing.” I’d suggest that these are real problems and that learning outcomes assessment has nothing to do with them. In fact, learning outcomes assessment is how you know that 45% of your (I presume organic chemistry) class doesn’t understand cyclohexane — and isn’t that useful information?

A response to Greene’s essay from @MarcSchaefferGD

When she mentions these real problems in passing, I suspect assessment is just the punching bag taking the brunt of the criticism for the fact that higher education today is not like the halcyon days of yore. But let’s disrupt those nostalgic sepia-toned images of the past to also remember that higher education then served a much wealthier and far less diverse student body. Higher education today must learn to serve much greater diversity, families that are not so well-connected, and students who come with a greater variety of goals. Data — yes, some from assessment processes — are tools for helping us do a better job working toward those worthwhile goals.


I’m not being snarky here: I wonder what Greene would do with a student’s essay if they claimed they “understand Shakespeare’s use of light and dark in Macbeth.” Wouldn’t she ask the student to elaborate further, to demonstrate their understanding with examples, with (dare I say it) evidence? Why, then, is it any different when we look at our own claims? If we claim that students are learning things in college, then shouldn’t we be able to elaborate further, to demonstrate how we know they learn those things?

I think maybe a major stumbling block is the issue of objectivity. She writes, “But that is the point, phasing out the erring human being and replacing the professor with a system that’s ‘objective.’ It’s lunacy to think you can do this with teaching, or that anyone would want to.” I teach physics, so my humanities colleagues might expect me to be a major proponent of “objective” and quantifiable measures. But surprise! I think this is a misunderstanding of the assessment process.

Surely mentors read and commented on the chapters of Greene’s dissertation. That feedback was assessment but no one claimed it had to be objective. In fact, one of the most common complaints of graduate students is that different mentors on their dissertation committees give contradictory feedback. That’s just the way it goes.

I wonder if thinking of the dissertation helps in another way: Some faculty just seem convinced that critical thinking skills are, by their very nature, not assessable. But what were your mentors doing when they commented on your writing? Greene ends by saying, “We in the humanities try to teach students to think, question, analyze, evaluate, weigh alternatives, tolerate ambiguity. Now we are being forced to cram these complex processes into crude, reductive slots, to wedge learning into narrowly prescribed goal outcomes, to say to our students, ‘here is the outcome, here is how you demonstrate you’ve attained it, no thought or imagination allowed.'” Did she feel there was no thought or imagination allowed when her mentors clarified what they wanted to see from her, when she was a student?

Introduction

Welcome

a TMV logo

I had an idea — well, several ideas, I guess. I wanted a project that could be an excuse to work with some of the great people I know. I wanted a low-stakes venue to write as a form of working out my own thinking. I wanted a kind of writing that could be a joy rather than a dreaded item on my to-do list.

I started to loosely outline an idea for an old-school group blog. I envisioned essays and posts in each person’s distinct voice. I pictured us reading each others’ pieces, commenting, creating conversations. Some of my friends and colleagues were skeptical, to say the least. For one thing, who blogs anymore, in the era of social media?

A tweet about blogging from @scalzi

But one time, I described this idea of the most informed, engaged, inspiring educators I know, writing informally — maybe even tentatively — in conversation with each other and the wider worlds of education and pedagogy. And I got just the affirmation that I needed:

“That would be like listening to the conversations I wish I had with colleagues.”

(I’ll keep who said that to myself, to protect her colleagues.)

So I’m founding Teaching Made Visible. We’ll talk about teaching and learning construed broadly. If the team of voices I’ve put together here can be generalized, I think it’s fair to say we’re all interested in social justice, the interplay between theory and practice, and a certain balanced respect for both scholarly, research-based understandings and practical, experience-based ones. Maybe, if we live up to the affirmation above, it’ll be like virtual hallway conversations among educators.

Team of contributors

The “groupness” of this project has remained the one non-negotiable for me. I had no interest in just starting a blog of my own. I’m excited to showcase some great voices from important perspectives. And I get the joy of having a project I’m working on with them. Let me introduce them in my own words here, then I can give them the floor from here on out:

profile pic of Scott Seagroves

I’m Scott Seagroves. I teach physics and direct the liberal arts general education program at The College of St. Scholastica. A lot of my career has been connected to the Institute for Scientist & Engineer Educators, where I recently led a collection of publications. I’m pursuing an Ed.D. studying “teacher identity” in higher education faculty.


Anne Metevier

I’ve known Anne Metevier since around 2000, and I started working more closely with her around 2003. She has led and/or been invaluable for much of our work at the Institute for Scientist & Engineer Educators; for example, she led this recent publication. She teaches astronomy at Sonoma State University and Santa Rosa Junior College.

Anne is there in many of my best career and personal memories. She was part of the small group that helped my wife and I elope!


Linda Strubbe

I first met Linda Strubbe when she participated in our ISEE Professional Development Program around 2009. She is an independent educator and educational developer and, oh, also, she co-founded the Pan-African School for Emerging Astronomers. I’ve been circling around vague ideas that how professional development is done in higher education is all wrong, and I keep coming back to some points she and her collaborators make here.

If you have a serious case of impostor syndrome — not me, just, you know, someone — you defensively tell yourself that people who study astrophysics at CalTech and Berkeley might be smarty-smart but they’re not, you know, well-rounded whole people, right? And then you hang out with Linda.


Megan Perry-Spears

Around 2012, I became fast friends with CSS‘s Dean of Students, Megan Perry-Spears. I kept hearing students talk about the W curve, and she explained it to me. I wish every higher education faculty member understood that the student affairs staff are educators the way I understand it from knowing Megan. As a matter of fact, she might be more thoughtful about student learning than the average faculty member.

Megan and her wife were — unbeknownst to them — listed as the emergency contacts for my son at school. Obviously there’d never be a time when the school couldn’t reach me or my wife, right? Oops.


Rafael Palomino

Rafael Palomino joined our ISEE Professional Development Program around 2013, and within a couple years he was an instrumental member of the development team. Most recently we worked together on the Equity & Inclusion “theme” within that program. He is senior instructional designer at Cepheid. He has a remarkable command of numerous frameworks and theories; I’m excited to hear more from the corporate education/training perspective.

I can never tell if Rafael’s being sincere or patronizing when he compliments my music tastes.


Sarah Stewart

I met Sarah Stewart around 2015. She is the associate director of CSS’s Office of Equity, Diversity, and Inclusion. Somebody asked a dismissive question about the invite-only opt-in first-year seminar for students of color that she teaches, and I found that it demonstrably improves graduation rates for those students. She’s also my classmate in our Ed.D. program.

When I first met her, Sarah said something about a short, unpleasant stint in North Carolina, and I’ve felt that somehow it’s my job to make it right ever since.


Christine O'Donnell

I met Christine O’Donnell when she joined the ISEE Professional Development Program around 2018. Recently I had the privilege of working as her editor on this article; that really got me thinking about her experiences and perspective. She is an Education and Diversity Program Manager at the American Physical Society.

I can’t find it now, but I swear I’ve seen a collage of photos of Christine in hardhats visiting cool facilities.


Erin Karlgaard

I’ve only known Erin Karlgaard since 2021, when we joined an Ed.D. program in the same cohort. She is a 3rd-grade teacher, a Racial Equity Advocate, and a 2022 Minnesota Teacher of the Year finalist. She consistently asks an equity question at times when I’m distracted by something less important.

At one point I asked a “hypothetical” question: If I ask someone from my Ed.D. cohort to blog here, do I have to ask everyone from my cohort? It wasn’t hypothetical, obviously — I wanted to ask Erin!

What now?

Our plan, for now, is for someone to blog here approximately every week. Several of us will always be “on duty” to converse in comments. We’re going to see how this goes for a little while, and then pause to check in. I’m excited to get started!