May-June 2005

Active Learning


To the Editor:

As the unnamed assistant professor who was the apparent impetus for, and target of, Kevin Mattson's article in the January-February issue, "Why 'Active Learning' Can Be Perilous to the Profession," I feel compelled to respond.

First, Mattson should have done his homework (rather than rely on secondary sources) before he labeled my class and teaching techniques as "scary." First-hand information was readily available—our offices share a building and my class is taught on our campus. Had he visited me or my class, he would have learned that my method of teaching is hardly frightening. Most days, I post questions to help students maneuver the readings. The next day, I draw students' names, ask them to read their answers, elaborate on what they wrote, and illustrate concepts using examples from personal experiences and observations. This is how my students "do" engaged learning.

Second, Mattson turns several phrases with the obvious intent to disparage my skill as a professional. He states that I "run" and "scurry around the classroom." I am not a child nor a rodent, thus I do neither. He goes on to describe me as an "intellectual Phil Donahue." Is it because I use a microphone and demand student responses that Mattson needs to reduce me to an icon of pop culture?

Third, I was not manipulated into teaching this course. I asked to teach it—and I continue to request it, because I like it, and I'm good at it. More-over, my teaching load is reduced when I teach the large section—hardly a case of exploitation.

Further, while I share Mattson's concern about ever-increasing class sizes, I do not believe that attempts to engage students in large classes are the inherent equivalent of academic Armageddon. Finally, I would argue that there is ample room for a plethora of teaching styles. I have adopted and implemented a style of teaching that (1) works exceptionally well for me and my students, and (2) has nothing to do with exploitation. Mattson argues that "new professors" need working conditions that enable them to do their jobs. As a new professor, I have encountered few difficulties, despite those few individuals who feel compelled to belittle those of us who do not teach as they do. In a nutshell, without ever talking with me, Mattson used my class and my style of teaching as a scare tactic-hardly the stuff of good academic writing.

Deborah Thorne
(Sociology and Anthropology)
Ohio University

To the Editor:

Thank you to Kevin Mattson for raising a number of points that should be discussed more widely. I once chatted with one of our senior graduate students who, in order to pump up her c.v., had accepted a teaching assignment from a neighboring university. When I asked her how she was doing, she poured out a litany of complaints and frustrations similar to those of most instructors of large classes. No matter what she tried, no matter what assistance she obtained from our university's "excellence in teaching" office, nothing seemed to reach her students. They were bored and uninterested, mistrustful of her expertise in the topic, and indignant at her methods of evaluation. She was using all available resources, some of them quite imaginative, to make the class more interesting, but it didn't have any effect on the students: they simply wanted to know what they needed to know to get a good mark in the course, preferably with the least amount of effort.

Later that very day, the monthly bulletin of our teaching resources office landed in my mailbox. I opened it to find a feature article accompanied by a photograph of the graduate student I had been speaking to earlier. Interestingly, the theme of the article was how this new instructor had decided to develop her course in concert with the teaching resources office, and how they had worked together to create a course that would stimulate and challenge the students. The result? Well, in contrast to what the instructor had told me, this article claimed that her "classroom is abuzz with student discussion, questioning, and sharing-not always a common sight in a class of a hundred plus at 8:30 in the morning." It went on to describe how her creative use of various "activities" "excited" the students, as shown by their "enthusiasm" for the activities.

Whenever we read of the so-called successes of active learning principles in large classrooms, I think our response should be, "Show me the money." If I'm to believe that active learning is the panacea it's claimed to be, I'll need to see some research results with clearly articulated endpoints and rational methodology—not a hyped-up personal tribute.

Glenn Ward
(Health Studies and Gerontology)
University of Waterloo

To the Editor:

I was puzzled by the cynical tone of Kevin Mattson's ominously titled article, "Why 'Active Learning' Can Be Perilous to the Profession." After reading the article, I was still unclear as to how active learning could be perilous. Obviously, active learning can be difficult to put into practice, and at times poorly executed—but (insert scary music here) . . . perilous?

In his article, Mattson belittles a professor, whom he condescendingly refers to as "an intellectual Phil Donahue," for using a microphone in a lecture hall to give students opportunities for comments and questions. Mattson asserts this example provides a "scary insight into the future of college teaching." And the "scary" part is? Sadly, Mattson further trivializes and misrepresents active learning as making "classes as entertaining as video games," and taking "students out for coffee." Given the references he cites, it is surprising that his depiction of active learning is so shallow.

Intended or not, Mattson comes off sounding embittered, entrenched in his teaching style, and threatened by active learning. If you read only Mattson's jaded article, you might think that those promoting and implementing active learning are snake-oil salesmen or naïve, touchy-feely professors oblivious to the practical realities of rigorous teaching. The silly photographs in the article further stereotype the teacher who employs active learning as some sort of game-show host.

While I acknowledge the logistical difficulties inherent in implementing active learning in behemoth-sized classes, I have little sympathy for Mattson's general attitude toward active learning. Are some active learning strategies unrealistic in some classes? Absolutely. Are there certain topics that are less conducive to active learning techniques? Absolutely. Does this mean that active learning is, as Mattson characterizes it, an idealistic sham perpetuated by Pollyannaish administrators and workshop facilitators? Absolutely not. Fortunately, Mattson concedes that in terms of active learning, "there are some good ideas" out there. Some? I would argue that there are indeed more than "some."

Although I agree that institutions endorsing active learning must provide environments conducive to it (for example, smaller class sizes), this point is easily lost in the "helpless professor" persona adopted by Mattson. In laying the blame for not implementing active learning at the feet of administrators, Mattson absolves himself of responsibility for active learning while encouraging a passive, victimized orientation with regard to active learning among the professoriate. Now that's perilous.

Dan Segrist
(Psychology)
Southern Illinois University Edwardsville

To the Editor:

I was dismayed by the article on active learning in the January-February issue, which ridicules active learning without bothering to figure out what it is. The accompanying pictures, presumably inserted by the editors, are even worse, as they appear to support the article's assertion that there's nothing here to take seriously. While Academe isn't a peer-reviewed journal, the editors have done us a disservice by failing to insist that the author acknowledge the large body of serious literature on the topic.

"Active engagement" goes well beyond entertaining students, is not restricted to large lectures, and most definitely has nothing to do with taking students out for coffee. Its basic tenet is that students learn better by doing than by watching and listening. Any attempt to portray active engagement as bad must first address the substantial documentation to the contrary. To cite just one piece of evidence in its favor, mathematics professor Michael Freeman of the University of Kentucky documented a full letter grade improvement among students participating in a math program that involves collaborative learning. (See http://www.ms.uky.edu/˜freeman/mathexcel.html.)

I am a research mathematician by training and am obsessive to the point of paranoia about administrative interference. I pride myself on being an excellent traditional lecturer and didn't see much reason to change. Several years ago, I nevertheless experimented with some "active engagement" ideas. My amazement at how much better my students seemed to master second-year calculus led me to organize a national effort to share this approach with others, effectively putting my traditional research on hold for several years. (See http://www.math.oregonstate.edu/bridge.) While I continue to be skeptical of many aspects of educational research, there's no longer any doubt in my mind that some form of active engagement would dramatically improve most traditional lectures.

Active engagement should not be used as an excuse to keep class sizes inappropriately large. Care must be taken to compensate instructors appropriately for any additional burden. On the other hand, students deserve the best we can offer them. If that requires some additional effort on our part, well, that's part of our job. By all means, let's discuss which curricula and teaching methods are best. But avoiding that discussion is throwing out the baby with the bathwater.

Tevian Dray
(Mathematics)
Oregon State University

Kevin Mattson Responds:

First to my colleague Deborah Thorne. I never suggested she was wrong to teach the way she does. I suggested it was problematic how the provost of our university promoted her teaching style for others to emulate. To clarify for Dan Segrist, who somehow heard a musical score while reading my article, this is what I found troubling: the words of the reporter that my colleague "defeated the large classroom . . . simply, it seems, by caring." And the words of our ex-provost about class size not relating to active learning.

I had an exchange with Thorne in a public meeting of the AAUP, and I wrote in the article that she had "expressed reservations about" the story's "message." So, in fact, I had heard from her on this issue. Again, my concern was less about her style and more about the way the administration promoted her technique as part of a "general education" program—which, I should mention, went down to defeat recently in our Faculty Senate. When Thorne suggests that how she teaches is "hardly a case of exploitation," fine. But she can't deny what was being promoted in that article. And, yes, to my other readers, I've read the literature on active learning, both its academically rigorous and slightly more goofy renditions, and I've yet to find any good ideas about how to deal with larger class sizes in any of it.

Segrist suggests I'm "entrenched" in my "teaching style." (Has someone written a promotional piece about my own teaching I'm unaware of?) He also suggests I play a persona of a "helpless professor." And to that I say, turn down that "scary music," dude, and go back and read the article.