In a new personal record, I have a fully-developed course policies and expectations document two weeks before classes start. (You might call it a syllabus, but since the proper definition of syllabus doesn’t include all the information I put  in my course policies, we’ll agree to call them course policies.) This will take us through the last four steps of Fink’s 12-step model of course design. First up, we have step 9, which concerns grading. Normally, like most mathematicians, I’m a weighted average sort of guy, aiming to have the final worth twice the weight of a single midterm. However, with all the things I’m planning to incorporate this semester, I decided that using a point accumulation model would be more appropriate. I hope that I don’t later decide this is a mistake, but I’m pretty confident that I’ll be happy with it. Those who want to suffer through the details can consult Table 1 in my course policies and expectations. The pie chart below tells pretty much the whole tale. (The miscellaneous category is participation, note-taking assignments, and reading assignments.)

Fall 2009 Precalculus Grade Components

I think the most interesting thing about this is that last time I taught precalculus, I based grades on quizzes (10%), four hour tests (15% each), and the final exam (30%). Now tests and quizzes account for only 55% of the grade. In order to prevent this from leading to students who don’t know the material passing the course, I’m going to use two mastery exams (you might know them as gateway exams) that will decrease grades by one letter grade each if they are not passed and a mastery quiz (half a letter grade reduction if not passed). Table 2 helps the students sort out this part of the grading. Overall, I’m really happy with this grading scheme. It’s going to give the students the incentive they need to do many of the activities I want them to, but it’s also going to allow me to assign grades that really show what they know.

Step 10 in Fink’s scheme is really silly. I like to call it “Stuff happens,” although I normally use a four-letter word in place of “Stuff”. Basically, just look at the whole scheme you’ve developed and make sure you’re prepared for things to go wrong. Is this something you should do? Absolutely. However, I’m not quite sure that we need to make it a whole step of the process, unless there’s something absolutely magical about having 12 steps.

Step 11 is all about writing your course policies (or syllabus). The idea is to clearly communicate to the students what’s going to happen. In CETL 8803, we did a lot of reading beyond Fink on this matter and had class discussions that helped us develop the rubric that was used to assess our documents. The idea was to develop a “learner-centered syllabus” (or course policies document). This includes telling the students a bit about your teaching philosophy, why they’re taking this course, your goals, your instructional methods, assessment and grading, course policies, and institutional policies. By the time you get that all spelled out, you’ve got a tome on your hands. For this fall, mine runs to almost nine full pages. It’s actually exactly nine pages after I include this Brown Sharpie cartoon about what happens when you cancel fractions incorrectly. There are a couple of policies that are left undefined at the moment, and that’s intentional. Part of what Weimer discusses regarding learner-centered teaching is the balance of power in the classroom. She encourages us to give the students some input into the course policies, where it’s appropriate, so I’ve done so. The main opportunity is regarding the frequency at which homework will be due, but we’ll also talk about coming to class on time and how to handle students who use technology in class irresponsibly, mainly by distracting others.

Fink’s Step 12 is about assessing how the course is going, which I’ll do via our standard end-of-semester CIOS instrument as well as a midterm survey that I’ve used in the past, although I’ll probably augment it with some additional questions about the new things I’m doing this fall. Of course, there’s a lot more to be said about how successful a course is, and to do this, I’ve had to start wading through bureaucratic red tape that I never imagined I would do as a mathematician. The fine folks at CETL mentioned to me that there’s a chance I might be able to produce a scholarship of teaching and learning paper from class this fall, since I’m incorporating a lot of ideas and making a conscious effort to increase student self-confidence. Of course, to do this I need approval from our Institutional Review Board. Thus, I’ve spent a lot of time lately getting certified to conduct research on human subjects (a process I’m glad to never have to go through again) and preparing the protocol to submit through CETL to the IRB. I appreciate the intent behind IRB, since there have been lots of crazy experiments that have not been conducted appropriately, but all I want to do is ask my students some survey questions and then analyze the data. That’s it, nothing fancy. Really, it comes down to using the ATMI (Attitudes Toward Mathematics Inventory), a survey that’s been repeatedly validated. All the grousing aside, however, the human subjects protections are for the best, and the benefit has been that it’s made me think more carefully about how to carry out the assessment of student confidence levels.

I intend to keep blogging about my course as we get going this fall, since the process should lead to some nice reflection. However, now it’s time for nitty-gritty details of entering assessment instruments into T-Square and making copies (not of the nine-page course policies and expectations, I’ll just give them a one-page summary in hard copy). Oh, yeah, and I should work on my research statement so that I can work on getting a job.