Here is an example of one of the stories:

Too Many Reasons

I used to think I was pretty good at getting students to participate in class, but lately I’ve been facing a “wall of silence.” Knowing a few colleagues who do mid- semester feedback in their courses, I decided to give it a try and specifically asked my students why they don’t participate more during class. Boy, did they give me an earful! One student wrote that, on top of a full course load, they are working late hours at two jobs. By the time they get to my class, they are too exhausted to think. One reported that she (I’m assuming it’s a she) tried participating early in the semester but stopped when she didn’t feel like her contributions were appreciated— like the time two male students made essentially her same points and were praised for the stolen ideas. Another disclosed that they are on the autism spectrum and have a hard time navigating social interactions, like when to jump into a discussion without being rude or weird, or how to disagree without sounding angry or condescending. . . . To avoid the uncertainty, they simply don’t participate. Yet another mentioned feeling hurt when they were misgendered in class and, after that, they disengaged. And yet another wrote that professors, especially Southern ladies like me, don’t really want to hear from their Black students. That stung. I try not to make assumptions about my students, but they seem to have no problem making assumptions about me. On and on it went. There were as many reasons for not participating as there were students. I tried to find some common theme that would point to one clear solution, but no. I want to help my Why Do Students’ Identities and Stages of Development Matter for Learning? students, I truly do. But each one seems to want something different from me, and I can’t personalize my course for each individual student. Plus, now I’m even afraid I’ll say the wrong thing and make it worse. What should I do? Professor Charlotte Calhoun

This indispensable handbook provides helpful strategies for dealing with both the everyday challenges of university teaching and those that arise in efforts to maximize learning for every student. The suggested strategies are supported by research and adaptable to specific classroom situations. Rather than suggest a “set of recipes” to be followed mechanically, the book gives instructors the tools they need to deal with the ever-changing dynamics of teaching and learning.

Classroom Assessment is a simple, practical approach to getting and giving feedback to improve the effectiveness and quality of teaching and learning. It is an evidence- based approach to improving learning and teaching that involves college and university teachers and students working intentionally and collaboratively toward shared goals. When Classroom Assessment is effectively employed, teachers obtain useful information— in terms of direct evidence or learners’ perceptions— about what, how much, and how well their students are learning. Analyzing and reflecting on that information provides useful insights for making teaching, assessment, and feedback more engaging, effective, and efficient. By involving students in the cycle of providing, analyzing, and using feedback, teachers help them become more capable, independent, and successful lifelong learners.

In higher education we tend to go into class with our content guns blazing: I HAVE SOME STUFF TO TEACH YOU, LET’S GET STARTED! But the research on human learning that we will consider in this chapter suggests that the first step in the learning process should be to follow Anne’s lead— not necessarily through her specific activity of asking pre- reading questions–but by asking students to engage in predictive activities of some kind or another before we expose them to new course content. Such activities could include inviting students to answer questions about what they are about to learn or experience, but could also include asking students to solve problems that are beyond their current ability level or to try their hand at a new skill before they have been given any formal instruction. This approach can seem counterintuitive since it turns the normal teaching sequence on its head. The operating assumption of many teachers runs like this: First I teach them the material, then I have them answer questions or solve problems with it. Read the story about polar bears, and then ask them where polar bears live. Give students a lecture on poetry, and then have them interpret a poem. Show students how to solve a particular type of math problem, and then give them one to solve on their own. But learning research suggests something quite different. It tells us that asking students to use their existing knowledge and skills to struggle with the material before we teach it can provide a robust foundation for deeper learning.

As graduate students take on a teaching role (whether as a teaching assistant (TA) or as the instructor of record) and begin the process of becoming a teacher in higher education, they bring their experience of being a student. Due to this experience, graduate students hold robust beliefs and dispositions related to teaching and learning. However, their beliefs and dispositions are narrowly focused and based on what worked for them as a student. Further, since graduate students are teaching for the first time and have never been in a ‘teaching’ role, they default to approaching their work from a student subject position.