Thursday, August 18, 2011

College for All?

The time has come--in the life of this blog, at least--to address one of education's hottest current topics: "college for all." I've mentioned the concept in passing in a few previous posts, but my thoughts on the subject didn't really begin to gel until recently, when I read two new publications.

The first catalyst was Mike Schmoker's Focus: Elevating the Essentials to Radically Improve Student Learning (Alexandria: ASCD, 2011). Although the book is targeted toward K-12 educators and policy makers, the author included some helpful ideas which could easily be applied to teaching at the undergraduate level, and his support for "college for all" is as enthusiastic as is his disdain for standardized testing. His basic premise was the absolute centrality of "authentic literacy" as the key to success in all subject areas. Teach students to read (or "decode," in the new jargon) in kindergarten and first grade, and then throw away the reading groups and basal readers (the graded reading textbooks that most of us probably used in elementary school, which mostly contain excerpts from short stories and/or pieces written specifically for the textbook). From second grade on, students should read entire works of varying lengths (novels, short stories, poems, newspaper articles) and genres as an entire class, with the teacher modeling a critical reading method and having students pair up and share thoughts, reactions, and answers to self-generated questions before completing written assignments related to the piece. If all teachers would follow this disarmingly simple plan, he argues, students would actually exceed the standards that have bloated our current system, and they might just retain a love of reading in the process.

Mike Schmoker--who has actual classroom experience, unlike many policy makers--makes his case for reforming language arts and social science instruction using this model well, but he lost me when he applied it to natural science and mathematics instruction, and it was in the context of doing just that that the nuances of his interpretation of "college for all" came through. Schmoker believes that all students could succeed in college if his model were used, because they would have mastered critical thinking and writing skills (in a usable form). Moreover, he states that the skills needed for success in college are the same skills needed for success in the work force and for responsible citizenship. In an ideal academic world, his assumption might be correct. Unfortunately, colleges have their share of instructors whose primary methodology is to do nothing more than lecture for 90 minutes at a time and then test students on what they can remember later. Listening and memorization are useful skills in college and in the workplace, too, and some students actually need more helping learning how to learn in these environments than they do in the critical thinking department. On the other side of the aisle are those students--and let's face it, they do exist--who just never seem to make the jump to independent, critical thinking no matter how much they are prodded. I admit to being something of a visionary myself, but Schmoker's world is a bit too perfect even for me. Furthermore, Schmoker divulges, in his chapter on mathematics instructional reform, that even he can't envision "college for all" as a reality unless schools abandon the new algebra II high school graduation requirement. Most colleges and universities require incoming students to have completed algebra II or its equivalent (whatever that is), yet the traditional high school curriculum has allowed students to graduate with no mathematics mastery beyond geometry. For the policy makers who initially envisioned "college for all," the solution was to require all high school students to complete algebra II. For Schmoker, the solution is to cater to the average student's ability and eliminate algebra II as a college entrance requirement.

I disagree with both proposals; the United States would be best served neither by dumbing down college standards nor by imposing unrealistic (and, as Schmoker repeatedly points out, untested) standards on all high school students, but by bringing back tracking.

Those of you who didn't run away screaming at the word "tracking" probably realize that not all jobs truly require a college-level education. A degree from CalTech or even from the local State U won't make me more likely to choose one auto mechanic or plumber over another, but good reviews and certifications will. I'm also unlikely to query the first responder to a house fire to see if s/he has completed the new BS in "Fire Service Administration" (no joke--click on the link) from UMUC before I let him or her put out the fire. And you might also realize that most European countries--countries who consistently outperform US students on standardized tests--have maintained tracking programs even after American educators declared them "discriminatory."

If you're still reading, and you still believe that "college for all" is a realistic and desirable goal, let me introduce you to the second publication that is responsible for this post. A headline in today's EdWeek Update proclaimed, "ACT Deems More Students College Ready." Apparently, data from the ACT (a competitor of the more famous SAT) results of the class of 2011 indicates that "...25 percent of those students produced scores in English, reading, math, and science that correlate with higher chances of earning B’s or C’s in entry-level college courses." This, the article goes on to reveal, is an improvement from 21 percent in 2005. ACT's senior vice president for educational services stopped short of gushing, calling it a "great sign," but cautioning that the pace of improvement is still too slow to meet the desired goals on the desired timetable.

In spite of ACT's optimism, the results of the study look grim. First, only 49 percent of the class of 2011 took the exam. Second, even though nearly 75 percent of the testing cohort reported taking the new standard "core curriculum" (4 units of English and 3 each of math, science, and social studies), 75 percent of test takers failed to meet ACT's "college ready" benchmarks in all four of its subjects. And while math and science performance saw modest gains, English scores flatlined or fell. Does this look like a cause for optimism?

I've been a fairly outspoken critic of US public educational policy for some time. With Mike Schmoker, I feel strongly that K-12 public education has been taken over by political agendas, to its detriment. The policies that were intended to ensure a consistent, quality education for all children in this country have actually obscured the teaching of basic skills, and those who make the policies often have no real teaching experience. Committee-generated lists of standards aren't helping anyone. The effort to bring real reform to our schools is entering its second decade, and we don't have much to show for it. The policies and procedures are deeply flawed.

But the "college for all" mentality hasn't helped, either. From my perspective in higher education, all it's really done is brought more underprepared students to our campuses, a phenomenon which has too frequently been followed by the dumbing down of our programs. Many students spend their entire first year in courses that have been completely redesigned to address their academic deficiencies, and part of their last year in special "workplace readiness" courses. I hope that they are really learning in their middle two years, but I'm skeptical. Let's stop kidding ourselves and admit that just maybe both the reform policies and the basic assumption--college for all--that has driven them are flawed. Real reform will begin when we relearn the art of seeing students as individuals with different interests, aspirations, and abilities, rather than as clones produced from the same material.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Johnny May Be Illiterate, But At Least He Can Recycle

I can hardly believe that it's been over a month since my last post. It's been busy around here--we (finally) moved out of our apartment and into a house (rental, but who cares as long as it's detached?), took a vacation, and flew to Colorado and back for my sister-in-law's wedding. Time has flown past. I could have chosen to write about any one of those events for this post. Instead, I'd like to comment on a news item from a couple of weeks ago.

Two weeks ago, Maryland became the first state in the nation to require every high school senior to fulfill an "environmental literacy requirement" in order to graduate. The proposal defines "environmental literacy" as follows: "...students that possess the knowledge, intellectual skills, attitudes, experiences and motivation to make and act upon responsible environmental decisions as individuals and as members of their community. Environmentally literate students understand environmental and physical processes and systems, including human systems. They are able to analyze global, social, cultural, political, physical, economic and environmental relationships, and weigh various sides of environmental issues to make responsible decisions as individuals and as members of their community and citizens of the world." The drafters claim that although the requirement is new, it is merely reinforcing what many Maryland schools are already doing. They claim that schools would not need to offer additional or separate courses, and that many school districts wouldn't even need to develop additional curricula: "The implementation of this graduation requirement will be within existing curriculum offerings (unless otherwise designed by a local school system) and implemented and taught interdisciplinary [sic] by existing highly-qualified teachers (Proposed Maryland Environmental Literacy Graduation Requirement: Key Questions and Answers)." The drafters also claim that no new testing will be required (or at least, not yet): "The MDNCLI Coalition is currently working with MSDE and the Governor’s Children in Nature Partnership to discuss how local school systems can best measure the success of the environmental literacy graduation requirement, but no additional testing is planned. The goal of this graduation requirement is to provide all students with comprehensive, multi-disciplinary environmental education infused within current curricular offerings and aligned with the Maryland Environmental Literacy Curriculum (ibid.)." All schools must do is prove to the state's satisfaction that they have implemented such an interdisciplinary program and that it is being taught to all students.

This all sounds fairly benign, and the drafters go on to cite three "key reasons" why this requirement ought to be implemented: it would get children out of doors (thus improving their health), it would (because of its interdisciplinary nature and because of increased student "engagement") have a positive impact on student interest and achievement in other, core, courses, and it would supply the "green workforce of the new economy" with environmentally literate workers (ibid).

But like so many of the recent attempts at educational reform, Maryland's latest initiative has serious flaws. For one thing, the language is incredibly vague, even by "core standards" standards. The most specific description I could find was this one: "Under the graduation requirement, public schools will be required to infuse core subjects with lessons about conservation, smart growth and the health of our natural world. Local school systems will have the ability to shape their programs to be relevant to their county, but all will align with standards set by the State. Every five years, the local school systems will report to the State to guarantee that students are meeting the requirements (Maryland Department of Natural Resources Press Release, June 21, 2011.)." There's a mention here of "standards," but no specifics. For all we know, requiring students to separate their recyclables from their trash at lunchtime could suffice. I have to presume that the "standards" will be set later, but this document doesn't give any indication of who might be responsible for setting them, or how extensive they will be.

Second, the interchange of the terms "standards" and "requirement" in the document is confusing, especially because "standards" so often imply the kind of testing the drafters claim won't be imposed. Why make a requirement if accountability is minimal? Why set standards if students don't have to demonstrate mastery? What is this thing, anyway?

Third, and most alarming to me, why are we even trying to increase the number of requirements and standards--not to mention adding curricular emphases--when so many students aren't meeting the ones already in place in the core content areas? Traditional areas of instruction like penmanship and the systematic treatment of grammar and spelling have already been axed to make way for areas of contemporary concern like diversity awareness, "family life education," and "values clarification." The drafters say that the requirement adds no new curriculum, but if I, as a teacher, were faced with implementing it, I would have to replace one or more of my current assignments or units to incorporate "lessons about conservation and smart growth" in my content area, and that makes covering all the standards I'm already supposed to be covering that much more difficult.

I'm all for teaching the next generation to be good stewards of our natural resources. My parents both grew up on dairy farms, and even though they didn't continue in the agricultural profession themselves, they passed quite a bit of their knowledge on to me. I can tell you which breed of cattle produces the richest milk for ice cream (Jersey), the difference between a steer and a bull (the former has been castrated), and how to tell when your corn isn't getting enough water (the leaves curl inward and get spiky). So I support sustainable agriculture practices and other initiatives that conserve natural resources. But I can't understand why we're so concerned with making sure that our students recycle their soda bottles and pizza boxes when so many of them don't know the name of the current Vice President and think that Qaeda is the last name of a guy named Al. Or why we would devote precious instructional time on a field trip to clean up a river bank--as noble a cause as that is--when they struggle with critical thinking skills and can't write a coherent essay. This mindset is the reason our educational reforms are getting nowhere--but that's a subject for another day.

Friday, June 10, 2011

Relics and Reliquaries in Baltimore, Part II

In honor of the feast day of St. Columba (which was actually yesterday)--the founder of an entire family of Irish monasteries and, along with Patrick and Brigid, one of Ireland's three main saints--I'd like to report on the lecture that capped off the "Relics and Reliquaries" exhibit at the Walters Art Museum in Baltimore about a month ago.

The lecture was given by Dr. Ben Tilghman, a member of the Art History faculty at George Washington University, and focused on the way in which illuminated manuscripts such as the Book of Kells functioned as relics in early medieval Ireland. Dr. Tilghman argued that the legendary association of the Book of Kells with St. Columba is a clue to the unique perspective on relics found in the early Irish church.

For starters, the Irish seem to have regarded the Book itself as a relic. Many early Irish sacred books were encased in "book shrines," a type of relic that is unique to Ireland. Only eight have been found--the shrines are elaborately tooled silver boxes, which made them prime loot for the Viking raiders--and the manufacture of the shrines suggests that the books were not meant to be accessed once encased (this might explain why so many illuminated volumes are missing their outside covers and leaves--they were damaged when removed from the shrine), but were instead treated as sacred objects. Furthermore, the Book of Kells was found at the monastery from whence it derives its name, but according to the Annals of Ulster, it was found in the sacristy, rather than in the library. All the evidence suggests that the Irish treated these texts as more than collections of words on a page.

The Irish, however, didn't regard these manuscripts as relics for the reason we might suppose. The early Irish church appears to have enshrined books not because they recorded the word of God, but because they had come into contact with a saint and thus conveyed some of the saint's holiness. Dr. Tilghman noted that there is a distinct lack of "corporeal" relics--parts of saints' bodies, like the finger of St. Catherine that is on display in the cathedral in Sienna, Italy--in the medieval Irish church. Instead, the Irish seem to have preferred "associative" relics, like items of clothing worn by holy men and women (witness the number of "belt shrines" that have been found), books, and bells associated with esteemed abbots. There's even a tradition that links a kind of "flyswatter" used during Mass to keep flies from alighting on the host (called a flabellum) to Columbanus, and images of flabella can be seen throughout the Book of Kells. So far, no one has explained this preference for associative relics over corporeal relics, but it may have something to do with the lack of martyrs in early Christian Ireland. All this to say that the association of the Book of Kells with Saint Columba (however legendary) may have caused the Irish to regard it as a relic more than as a copy of the Gospels.

The lecture was fascinating. Dr. Tilghman showed several close-up slides that enabled the audience to see the manuscript in extremely fine detail and make his case, and it's always instructive as a historian to hear a lecture on something in my field given by a scholar in a different discipline. As surprising as it may seem, historians, archaeologists, art historians, and even church historians rarely interact with each other. But in a field like early Irish studies in which so little material or textual evidence exists, scholars need to cast a wide net, and the interdisciplinary approach can be quite helpful.

The trip itself was decent, too: the parking garage "chip coin" machine that I mentioned in part I worked on the first attempt, and I narrowly escaped the shut down of the north side of the beltway (the accident had just occurred, and emergency personnel hadn't arrived yet, so we were able to squeeze past). The only thing lacking was a cheese and wine reception afterwards (fairly standard at scholarly events), but I don't suppose many museums bring out refreshments for a free public lecture.

Friday, May 27, 2011

Book Review: Academically Adrift

Arum, Richard and Jospia Roksa. Academically Adrift: Limited Learning on College
Campuses
. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2011.

Much has changed in American higher education in the last half-century. Fifty years ago, U. S. colleges and universities lead the world in undergraduate graduation rates. Students averaged 40 hours per week--the equivalent of a full-time job--attending classes and studying (Arum and Roska, 3). A majority of these students either paid their own way through school or relied on scholarships and grants (money that need not be paid back except in terms of the graduate's contribution to society) to cover costs, and a college degree was seen as one of several viable post-high school paths to career success.

Today, America has embraced the "college for all" mentality. As the U.S. looks to (re)gain its world leadership in the medical, scientific, and technological sectors, policy makers have introduced a variety of initiatives designed to improve the quality of education at all levels, to encourage young people to study math and science, and to raise the overall educational level of citizens. Moreover, in the wake of the recent recession, young people who might previously have gone straight from high school to the work force have decided that they need a college degree in order to remain competitive in the tightening job market. A college degree is now seen by many as a necessity.

Yet, despite an increase in access to higher education in this country, America no longer leads the world in college graduation rates (53). Figures vary by study, but a government study in 2005 found that only 54 percent of students who enrolled in 4-year colleges in 1997 had completed a bachelor's degree by 2005. In another dramatic shift, today's college student spends an average of just 27 hours per week attending classes and studying--less time than s/he probably spent attending classes in high school (3)--and most likely funds his/her education at least partially through student loans and on- or off-campus employment.

With so much on the line, parents, policymakers, and employers are beginning to ask just how much value students are getting for their dollar, and how effective the reform and accountability initiatives have been. What, exactly, should students be learning in college, and how well are they learning it?

These two questions are the subject of Academically Adrift. Sociologists Arum and Roksa surveyed educators and employers and compared courses of study across a wide range of disciplines. They concluded that the primary academic goal of a college education was the acquisition of critical thinking and writing skills. They then noted that most standardized tests of college-learning measure major content rather than skills. In order to find the answer to the second question, therefore, Arum and Roksa designed their own test of college learning--the Collegiate Learning Assessment (CLA)--which could be administered to students of any discipline and which focused on critical thinking and writing. The test is open-ended (rather than multiple choice) and consists of two "writing tasks" (make an argument and break an argument) and a "performance" task that asks students to read several different texts and respond to a writing prompt by analyzing the texts, synthesizing the information, and producing a written solution to a practical problem.

Arum and Roksa administered the CLA to approximately 1100 students at 24 institutions of higher education at the beginning of their freshman year and again at the end of their sophomore and compared the results. After controlling for several demographic variables, they concluded that the average student's CLA score only improves by 7 percent in his/her first two years of college. They also found that 45 percent of students who took the test saw no statistically significant gains in critical thinking and writing skills at all in the same two years (36).

Arum and Roksa next turned their attention to institutional and cultural factors that might explain the "limited learning" demonstrated by the CLA. They concluded that none of the many parties involved in higher education--students, faculty, administration--has really made student academic development the highest priority. For students and parents, social development and "credentialing" were the top priorities, and while the latter might sound like academic development, today's college students have become consumers of educational services, seeking the highest (GPA) return for the least possible (time) investment (16). True "learning" takes a back seat. Research and student retention are the top priorities for college faculty and administrators. The technological advances of the post-World War II era fueled a shift within the academy from teaching to research, and most faculty now know that research and publication (activities external to the university itself) weigh more heavily in promotion and tenure decisions than student course evaluations do--and that better course evaluations are often linked to lower expectations and lighter assignment loads (13). Additionally, although administrators are interested in increasing undergraduate student retention, their efforts in this department tend to focus more on developing a close-knit student body, offering attractive residence halls, and improving student services rather than on increasing academic standards (135-6).

Few people, it seems, are really interested in teaching and learning. Yet the authors' research suggests that helping students develop critical thinking skills and good study habits contributes at least as much to retention as creating a positive social environment (ibid.). Based on their research, Arum and Roksa offer several practical suggestions for restoring the culture of learning on college campuses. For example, they note that students whose teachers require them to read more than 40 pages per week and write at least 20 pages over the course of the semester see the biggest gains in their CLA scores (94-5). They also urge adminstrators to train future faculty (i.e., graduate students) in good teaching techniques as well as in research skills.

As thought-provoking as this book is, the research behind it is limited. Only 24 schools participated in the study, and the students at these schools self-recruited. Thus, the study group likely contained a higher than desirable percentage of well-organized and highly motivated students. Additionally, over half the sample reported a high school GPA of 3.7 or higher (Methodological Appendix). Perhaps these students saw such small gains on their CLA scores because they came to college already in possession of the skills that the test measures. If the sample had included a higher percentage of "underprepared" students (those with the potential for greater gains in critical thinking and writing skills), would the test results have been more encouraging? Would the authors' conclusions and suggestions have changed?

In spite of its limitations, Academically Adrift is an interesting read that offers some good advice for those who work in the field of higher education, and the CLA is an instrument that has the potential to change the way we educate our young adults for the better. As much as this reviewer dislikes standardized testing, she believes that administering the assessment to more first- and second-year college students would offer some meaningful and much-needed insight into the education reform process. This book is highly recommended.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

End-of-Term Assessment: What I've Learned in the Last Two Years

School's out! My students have just finished their final exams, and I thought it would be appropriate to evaluate my own progress after two years of teaching, especially since I made some significant changes this year. Here's a review of what worked, what didn't, and what I've learned.

What worked:

1. Administering the reading quizzes as soon as the clock indicates that class time has begun seems to have eliminated tardiness, as I had hoped. Either that or this year's class was just more concerned with punctuality than last year's.

2. I have finally found a paper-grading rubric that yields grades I am (usually) happy with, but it works because it grades on a 4-point (i.e. GPA) scale, rather than on the 100-point (percentage) scale that students are used to. Explaining it to unhappy students has been difficult, but I can't figure out how to convert it.

3. This one's really basic: putting the desks in a circle went a long way to eliminating distracting side conversations. Last year, my classroom layout made circling desks impossible, and I had to resort to docking participation points for classroom distractions instead. Preventing the distractions in the first place was much more effective.

4. Providing students with a "creative option" on some assignments also worked out well. Not many students chose this option, but the assignments of those who did were exceptionally good. I'm not entirely sure why, but I know it's not because these students are the best ones in the class. I'd like to think it was because the creative option required them to think about the content on a deeper level in order to transform it into something new. I just hope it wasn't bias on my part (as in, "Oh boy--a break from the monotony! This is great work!").

5. Switching the focus of the final exam from course content to critical reading, thinking, and writing skills (with specific reference to texts read for class; basically, I gave them short passages from course texts and authors and a series of reading comprehension questions for each passage) worked out well, although there's still room for improvement. Last year I discovered how difficult it was to create a content-focused exam for a discussion course, especially when the discussion didn't always go the same direction in both sections. Sure, students were responsible for all the assigned reading, but for many of them, this was their first exposure to primary sources, and I didn't think it was fair to put something on the exam that I wasn't absolutely sure we talked about in class. This year I reasoned that since the main objectives of the course were to teach students to read a variety of genres of theological literature critically, to interact with them intelligently, and to write persuasively, the final exam should test those skills more than course content. The students will have to take additional theology courses at CUA, anyway, and those courses will focus on content mastery. The exam worked well, although since I didn't think to give a pretest at the beginning of the semester, I have no hard evidence to show how much progress the students made in acquiring these skills. Also, in hindsight, I think that I should have included an objective (matching or fill in the blank) section testing the students on their grasp of essential terms that they will run across later on.

What didn't work/needs improvement:

1. Reading quizzes didn't do enough to convince students to read in preparation for class. Many students were content to take their chances by guessing on the questions. I could eliminate guesswork by making the questions short answer or fill in the blank, but it was difficult to come up with questions that were easy enough to ensure that the students who really did the reading would be able to remember the answers but difficult enough to make blind guessing unprofitable. I could also weight the quizzes more heavily than I currently do.

2. Related to #1, reducing the length of reading passages also did not result in increased class participation. If anything, the number of students who read the texts actually declined (as the book Academically Adrift, which will be the subject of my next post, confirms).

3. The class session on speed reading was a bust this year. I had one student tell me "please don't assign speed reading ever again," even though I didn't have an assignment connected with the lesson and had no plans to grade anyone on their mastery of the techniques. I guess the latter didn't come across clearly in class. I think I will (mostly) take her advice, though. The "above-the-line" technique is easy to teach and master and has the potential to double reading speed instantly, so I think I will continue to teach it in class. But the full technique takes more than one session to learn and really needs to have homework attached to it for students to master. I may offer to teach it as a workshop series, but I don't think I'll attempt it again as a stand-alone lesson in a theology course, even if one of the major goals is to teach reading skills.

4. I need to improve my ability to rephrase the questions I ask in class discussions. I have this problem in Sunday School, too--I know what's in my head, but I can't seem to express it in a way that gets others there.

5. The rubric I used to grade the group presentations graded too highly. I'm pretty sure this is because I reverted to a percentage rubric (i.e. content is worth up to 55 points out of 100, observing time limits is worth up to 10 points, etc.) instead of using the GPA/"quality" system that worked so well for the written assignments. But GPA rubrics only work--I think--in cases where all grading criteria are weighted equally, and I don't think I want to weight observance of time limits equally with mastery of content. I'm not sure how to fix this.

6. The critical bibliographical essay assignment (honors section only) was a good idea, and the students seemed to appreciate the challenge. Most papers were good, and a few were excellent, but others had serious deficiencies relating either to poor or uninformed source selection or to an over-reliance on personal opinion instead of critical analysis. I'll definitely use this assignment again, but I need to provide more supervision of students' source choices (i.e., requiring them to submit abstracts for all three sources instead of only one) in order to make sure they don't paint themselves into a corner. Several students left my class still confused about the appropriateness of sources for academic papers, and that's unacceptable.


Other things I've learned:

1. Teaching is every bit as exhausting as being a student, although it's a different kind of tired. I was surprised at how much it took out of me last year. An experienced teacher explained that teaching is a kind of performance--inspiring and engaging students takes a fair amount of energy, both physical and mental. I have a new appreciation for elementary and preschool teachers--I can not imagine how much more tiring their jobs must be than mine.

2. Some students still see only what they wish the text says instead of what it actually says, no matter how you try to steer the discussion ("Is that really what Augustine is saying here?") or how many times you make this comment on their papers. I'm still trying to figure out how to get through to these students.

3. Some students just don't follow directions, even when they have an instruction sheet for an assignment in front of them. No one should have lost "format" points on papers, but about a third of one class consistently did, in spite of my repeated red inking and comments, both on papers and in class.

4. Related to #2 and #3, some students don't read the comments I make on papers and thus don't learn as much as they could from the experience. I was amazed at the number of "final" annotated bibliographies that I received that hadn't incorporated a single correction from the draft, although in hindsight (we all know this generation doesn't read much) I shouldn't have been so surprised.

5. Reducing student workload does not improve the quality of students' work. If anything, it has the opposite effect, as students either forget about or push to the side assignments that are less time-consuming. The old adage, "if you want a job done, give it to a busy person" applies here as well.

My faculty mentors have said that it takes two revisions of a course to get it exactly the way you want it, and this was only my second year (one revision). I tried several things differently this year, and for the most part, I would say that the overall experience was better. But there's still plenty of room for improvement, and I do think that one more revision would do the trick. So it was with some reluctance that I turned down the opportunity to return for a third year. The teacher part of me wants one more chance to get it right. The Ph.D. candidate part of me, however, knows that hiring committees consider how long it took an applicant to finish his/her degree, and that time is not on my side. I've been a student too long already, and teaching cuts heavily into writing time. I've recorded my ideas for next time here, and the sooner I finish the dissertation, the sooner "next time" will arrive.

Friday, April 22, 2011

Tenebrae: the Service of Shadows

The older I get, the more I find myself drawn to worship services that have lots of liturgical or symbolic elements (it might also be because I've spent the past seven years studying monasticism at a Catholic school). So when the opportunity arose Wednesday night to attend a traditional tenebrae service at a local Episcopal church, I took it.

Tenebrae is Latin for "shadows," and a tenebrae service is a visual and auditory reflection on the events of Good Friday (Tenebrae services used to be held on Good Friday, but because the Catholic Church does not allow Mass to be said on this day, most Catholic churches hold their tenebrae services on Maundy Thursday instead--even though a tenebrae is not a Mass. I don't know if a similar protocol exists in the Episcopal Church, nor do I know why this particular congregation chose to hold theirs on Wednesday.). At the start of the service, all of the candles on the altar and the hearse (the triangular-shaped candelabrum--I had to look this term up when I got home) are lit, and the rest of the sanctuary is partially lit. As the service progresses through a series of readings and choral responses, the candles and lights are gradually extinguished, symbolizing the growing darkness of sin in the world and the midday darkness that "covered the land" for three hours leading up to Christ's death (cf. Mark 15:33).

The readings for the service consisted of the first 14 verses of the book of Lamentations and several Psalms of lament and judgment. Following each cycle of readings, the cantor responded with "Jerusalem, Jerusalem, return to the Lord your God." As the lights got dimmer and dimmer, the Psalmist's despair grew increasingly evident. I found the reading of Psalm 77 to be particularly evocative. In the middle of this psalm, we read: "Will the Lord spurn forever and never again be favorable? Has His steadfast love forever ceased? Are His promises at an end for all time? Has God forgotten to be gracious? Has He in anger shut up His compassion (vv. 7-9; ESV)?" It was easy to imagine what Jesus' followers might have been thinking as they watched the events of the crucifixion unfold: "We thought this was the real deal. What happens now?"

When all the lights have been turned off and all the candles except for the "Christ candle" at the center of the hearse have been extinguished, there is a final reading, and the acolytes remove the Christ candle from the stand and hide it from view, symbolizing the moment of Jesus' death. In total darkness, the congregation recites the Lord's prayer and the cantor reads Psalm 51, the lament on the Psalmist's personal sin that has so often been set to music. After a final prayer, the acolytes drop or slam shut a heavy book or make some other "great noise" that represents the earthquake mentioned in Matthew 27:51 (I have no idea what produced the noise at the service I attended; even though I knew it was coming, it was still loud and sudden enough to startle me) and then return the Christ candle--still lit--to the hearse so that the congregation has just enough light to leave the sanctuary in silence.

A tenebrae service isn't all gloom and doom, however. The psalms that are read are psalms of judgment and lament, but they all--even Psalm 77--end on a note of hope and faith that God will keep His promises to redeem and restore. Moreover, the final reading before the church is plunged into total darkness is the Song of Zechariah from Luke 1, which ends with the line "...to give light unto those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet in the way of peace (Lk 1:79)." And the Christ candle's return to the stand at the end of the service is a reminder to all that the Light of the World could not be extinguished forever--Easter morning is coming.

I'm glad I finally got a chance to experience a tenebrae service, even if it wasn't actually on Good Friday. I could wish that the church had provided copies of the lyrics of some of the hymns that the choir song, since they were all in Latin and although I read the language, I don't have a very good ear for discerning words in songs (even in English). But the symbolism was every bit as rich as I had expected. I'd like to attend an Easter vigil service someday, too, but that one's going to be tricky since we have so many responsibilities at our own church on Easter Sunday and need to be reasonably awake and alert.

Have a blessed Easter, everyone.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Breaking News: Young Adults' Perceptions of High School and College

Today's EdWeek Update has a link to an interesting article about young adults' perceptions about the education and advice they received/are receiving in their high schools and colleges.

Some of their conclusions echo thoughts I've posted here before, especially in the area of how well high schools prepare students for careers and life in the real world. For example, the survey found that "a majority" felt that their high schools did not adequately assist them with choosing a major or a career field. Colleges fared better, however: a "strong majority...give their colleges high marks for preparing them for the workforce, helping them choose a field of study, exposing them to the latest technology and helping them get internships."

I do wish that a) the author of the article had posted a link to the actual survey questions and results (without this, readers are left to interpret the reported findings in a vacuum) and b) the sample size was lager (at just 1,104 students and recent grads, it's too small to be conclusive). It's an interesting read, nonetheless.