Thursday morning at 9:30 in my office, Judith Arms and I learned
from Deborah Hughes-Hallett about a project using case studies to help
graduate students learn to teach which fits beautifully with what Judith
does in our TA-training program and potentially also with what I will be
doing with our PFF project. Thursday evening at 9:30 at the airport, I
learned from Deborah about some games for deepening understanding of
arithmetic which sound superb for at least two courses I plan to teach and
for our CML project (engaging enough so that third graders play them and
research mathematicians argue the strategies for them.) For a day of high
intensity learning about learning, I'm not sure Thursday could be beaten.
All this leads to an obvious danger of turning the newsletter into
an information overload, but I shall restrain myself, aided in the
restraint by the fact that my memory hit saturation point from time to
time.
The last tidbit of the morning (after we had kicked the case study
issue around considerably) was Deb reeling off, for the sake of someone
who is about to go there, the list of projects in and around the
University of Arizona which might be of interest to a visiting
mathematician with an interest in educational issues. No, tidbit is too
diminutive a word--the list goes on and on. What an incredibly live place
Arizona is!
Then came the Brown Bag, with a wonderful collection of people
from in and out of the department and on and off campus. Deb wanted to
provoke a discussion about international trends in the teaching of
mathematics, so she led off with her own background: schooling in England
(at a boys' boarding school, she said gleefully, but didn't elucidate),
graduate study at Harvard, two years of teaching in Turkey, some teaching
in China, a lot of work with mathematicians in South Africa as they dealt
with the aftermath of Apartheid, co-organizer of an international
education conference on the island of Samos--you get the picture. What she
wanted to explore was an idea arising from conversations with a Kirghiz
couple and experiences in South Africa. In both places the curriculum in
mathematics is undergoing major revision motivated in part by the fact
that what is now taught has too strong a flavor of Moscow in one case and
of Apartheid in the other. In effect, both feel that many topics are in
the curriculum simply to help mathematics serve as a weeder to keep the
elite class small and distinct. But given the freedom to change, what do
you change to? Meanwhile, here in the US, one of the major tenets of the
current math reform is "mathematics for all"--the idea that our focus
should be more on seeing to it that everyone has a chance for some good
and real mathematics than on accelerating the elite who are heading for
college and beyond. How do these things relate, and what else has anyone
seen? Those were the questions Deb rolled out to us. And since we had
representatives of India, Spain, New Zealand, Canada and the Philippines,
and a whole bunch of other thoughtful people as well, they got inspected
from many perspectives. One tidbit that stuck with me is that in England
the weeding job used to be shared with classical Latin, but now the Latin
requirement has gone, leaving math to bear the burden solo. Another tidbit
(from a slight excursion out from the basic questions) is a follow-up to
one of last year's Brown Bags: we watched a videotape of a geometry lesson
in a Japanese eighth grade and we all drooled: the students were tackling
a challenging problem, diving in on their own, then conferring with each
other, and eventually watching intently and commenting as a classmate
presented a (slightly flawed) solution. Just lovely. Then we gritted our
teeth and watched a few minutes of an American class in which students
clomped their way through a long drill sheet on supplementary and
complementary angles, while the teacher coaxed them along ("Look out,
you're going to have to subtract from something different this time.") The
follow-up is that American high school students watching the film speak
very ill of the Japanese teacher. He's obviously a bad teacher, because he
made his class do a problem he hadn't shown them how to do. OW!
Which leads us neatly into the next event of the day: the Calculus
Education seminar. Deborah's choice of topic was based on the observation
that somewhere between elementary school and the university there comes
about a shift of perspective from teaching PEOPLE mathematics to teaching
people MATHEMATICS. But those still are people out there in those rows of
bolted down desks, and the more insight we have into their expectations
and responses, the better we can teach them. Not that we necessarily want
to fulfill each and every expectation. There was, for instance, the
student filled with righteous indignation at her having asked how far a
particle had traveled along a curve, thereby cheating him of the points
that were rightfully his because she should have said "arc length".
Spurred on by that, Deb did a do-it-yourself survey including the
statement "A well written problem makes it clear what method to use to
solve it." On a scale from 0 (don't agree) to 5 (totally agree) the
calculus classes she surveyed gave it a 4.1, and the pre-calculus a 4.6.
That doesn't mean that we should convert and start feeding them problems
that deprive them of the opportunity to figure out what to do (Heaven
forfend!) But it might have some impact on what we say to the students as
we present them with those problems. And another expectation we would just
as soon not fulfill: very few students, in Deb's observation, find it
possible to imagine that doing mathematics can be fun or interesting.
That's one to ponder.
And then again there was the bright-eyed student who finally
figured out what he was supposed to have been doing on his test. "Oh, you
want us to do this the way we do English or Social Studies","???", "You
want me to THINK!" Well, at least he did figure it out.
On the other hand, a different type of thought to keep around is
the one generated by Deb's most recent overhearing of a "You know what
else they can't do" type sentence--the kind of sentence with which the
walls of the math lounge are saturated. Only she didn't hear it from
faculty members this time. It was two students discussing their parents'
computer skills, or lack thereof. They may not have a bunch of the skills
we wish they had, but they have others, and we need to be aware of that.
Further anecdotes and insights were numerous, but I think I will
hold it to the insight she stated most firmly and with the most resounding
conviction: the best way to get a student to engage with the mathematics
of your class, and to be an active learner in it, is to be interested in
the student. Stand by to do some listening--maybe even listening on
subjects that are not inherently interesting to you. The pay-off is
considerable.
One might think that after leading both of those seminars, Deborah
would be prepared to call it a day. Ha! She spent the afternoon in sundry
conferences and conversations, then joined nine of us for dinner at the
Sun Ya restaurant. There she regaled us with tales of her activities
around Arizona's remarkable department (like for instance taking a hefty
array of folks from outside the department to lunch, because that way they
are the most comfortable talking about what it is that they need
mathematically from their students.) Eventually I whisked her off to the
airport, where she boarded a red-eye flight home, complete with exams she
was planning to grade and return to her class in mid-morning. Talk about
dynamos (dynami?) (or maybe dynamae?)!!