talking about a homework...

it sounds like a whisper.

Our discussions in 5931 and various of the linked blog entries here have gotten me thinking about what to do when people in class aren't doing their homework.

I think about *why* students don't do their homework, and I come up with the same reasons why I am sometimes under- or unprepared for various tasks. If I am crunched for time, if I see no good reason for doing work, if I'm not interested, if I'm resisting giving in to a situation I resent . . . then I don't (or don't happily) do the work. And often these reasons feed on each other: if I'm really interested in something, I will somehow find time (by giving up sleep or TV or . . .) to do that something, but if I'm not interested, the time just won't be there. Because of my own, er, issues in this area, I have a hard time demanding other people to live up to standards that I myself can't always keep. So: what are my responsibilities as a teacher to "make" the work of class interesting or relevant to students, and what are students' responsibilities (to put this in words that reflect my least patient moments) simply to do the damn work without me having to babysit them?

In addition to all the above about why I -- and students -- sometimes aren't prepared, though, most students (here at Tech) do not yet connect what happens here in classes with life outside campus. Classes don't connect much to each other, either. And the environment on this campus often doesn't much ask students to value what it is we think is important in Humanities classes.

And if I fully follow out the implications of what I've written above, I'd never give homework and never expect anything of students and I'd be swimming right now since it is such a gloriously beautiful day. But, well, obviously not.

So I am thinking more about how to create motivations for shaping the homework as worth doing. And there seems an easy division to make in categorizing approaches:

stick approaches
When I send students home to read an essay, I can tell them there will be a short quiz (counted toward the final grade) at the beginning of class about the essay, or that we will start class by going around the room and requiring everyone to give a one sentence summary of the reading. On the day a reading is assigned, I can give each person a different question about the reading, and ask each to write a short response to the question, to turn in; in class the day of discussing the reading, students would start by comparing their responses -- small groups could compile their responses to different questions into a unified summary of the reading or of its main points or of . . . I can ask them each to bring a question about the reading to class, so that they quiz each other on the reading.

carrot approaches
What about the reading should matter to students? Why should they care? The day of assigning a reading, I can explain why I think the reading matters to the goals of the course or to life at large, but, most importantly, to their lives. I can ask them to come up with any experiences they've had with the topic of the reading, and to discuss (or write for a few minutes about) how the topic matters to them -- and ask them to come up with one question about the topic, tied to their own lives and experiences; as they read the essay, they should look for answers to their questions, and write up a short piece on how the essay did -- or did not -- suggest a response. I can ask them to come up with reasons why an essay on X topic should matter to class, and then to read to see if the reading does matter -- and to suggest other readings they think might better address the topic.

so . . .
My division of approaches into carrot and stick implies a value judgment, and it is one I hold. The stick approaches bring an external motivation to doing homework: students are told to do the work because we think it matters and because it shapes their grade. The carrot approaches attempt to build internal motivation, by asking students to make connections between the work and their lives. The carrot approaches are, yes, a bit utopian in their hopes; realistically, I know that it is hard to develop real motivations with people taking 5 or more classes and working 2 jobs and more interested in engineering than academic communication. But, well . . . I wouldn't be teaching if I weren't generally optimistic about people caring about creative and just communication -- and if I didn't also try to mix classroom realities with the optimism.