By Mira Sucharov, Associate Professor, Department of Political Science
We often like to think that students value the readings we assign out of a sheer love of learning. But, like us, students have many competing demands on their time, and course requirements inevitably get prioritized according to incentives. For any given student, studying for a midterm in one class may take precedence over completing the weekly readings in another. Completing a term paper may supplant attendance on a given day. And this says nothing about off-campus demands like exercise and leisure, and, for many students, work.
For this reason, I try to build incentives for attendance and weekly readings into my course: I give a weekly mark for attendance (though I am sometimes ambivalent about doing so; attendance, I hear a colleague’s voice in my head, is a prerequisite for participation, not a substitute for it) and I assign weekly written assignments on the readings. There, students are required to summarize the weekly readings and conclude by posing questions that the authors do not address.
These assignments serve the purpose of providing incentives for students to read deeply and critically — and to read period. And knowing they have completed the readings enables me to be less concerned if the class discussion strays from a direct discussion of the authors’ points, which it often does as we chase a narrative thread in exciting and unexpected directions. This is liberating in two ways: I am relieved that students don’t feel that doing the readings was a “waste of time” (since they received direct marks for doing so), and I know that they will have benefitted both from the content of the readings and whatever additional avenues of inquiry we uncover in our class discussions.
Lately, though, I’ve been doubting the value of these assignments. They are time-consuming to grade — which would be fine, of course (it’s our job, after all!) if I felt the grading carried some pedagogical value. But it often doesn’t. I contrast this with grading their more substantial written assignments (op-eds, term papers, etc.). There, I often find the marking process gives rise to more meaningful teachable moments. And when I notice that something is tedious to grade, I tend to wonder whether these assignments might be tedious to write.
Writing about a similar topic on his blog, and specifically referring to an unwatched Holocaust film he had assigned, Syracuse University professor Zachary Braiterman reveals what he thinks must be going through the minds of his students: “Who indeed has the time? Who has the stomach? Who has a good reason?”
Some material indeed may be hard for students to “stomach,” as Braiterman puts it — especially in the context of a course on the Holocaust. But something tells me that students — except in particular cases where personal trauma may be triggered — are more worried about being bored and overcommitted than they are about being overstimulated by disturbing material.
Which brings me back to wanting to ask my Carleton colleagues: how do you ensure students do the readings while not burdening them with what may feel like busy work on their part, and too much tedious forms of grading on ours?